Ben Bedard - The World Without Flags

The moon is bright and large. I see in front of me dozens of rusted automobiles and trucks, like a junkyard. A path runs to the front of the warehouse. My heart thumping in me, I open the door and stick my head out, looking behind the warehouse. I see a large, rusting tank with a wood furnace underneath it. Gray smoke pours out a long tin stovepipe. I don’t know how it works, but that must be where the good Doctor gets the power for his laboratory.

Then I hear the river. The roaring sound comes up from past the steam engine tank, down a banking. I guess there’s a river down there. It’s what we need. A way to escape. I duck back inside and make my way back to Eric. I just have to get him through the laboratory, down the bank, and we can cross the river and get away. It will be easy leading him toward water. Eric’s standing with his face against the wall. When I grab him, he pivots and then walks directly into the open door, causing an echoing crash to pulse through the hallways.

“Unh!” he grunts.

I wait, counting heartbeats. No sounds. “Damn it, Eric,” I hiss. “Be careful!”

I maneuver him more carefully through the door and then down the hallway of shelves. He’s walking strangely again. He keeps shooting out his right arm. I have to keep pushing it down as he walks forward, in case he hits one of those horrible glass jars and brings it crashing to the floor. Then he takes a few steps and shoots it out again. I’m thinking to myself why now?! as we make our way down the long hallway toward the door when I hear a clattering. I push my knees behind Eric’s knees and drag him to the ground as the door opens loudly behind us.

I put my hand over his mouth and press firmly, hoping he doesn’t react by biting me.

He doesn’t. I lay beneath him, holding his mouth, as I listen to footsteps on the concrete. I look through the shelves and see shoes. Not boots, but shoes, leather shoes, polished, hardly dirty. Then the shoes walk away from me.

I feel Eric’s drool against my hand, but I hold him firmly. If he makes a sound, we’re dead. I look around on the shelves for a weapon, but there’s only jars full of dark liquid.

I stretch my neck to see what the Doctor is doing. I see his clean leather shoes in front of the chair. I watch his feet turn as he sits down on the chair where they shackled me before. I can’t see what he’s doing. Then I hear him groan a little. My heart beats, and I’m shaking. I hear him sniff then, and I think, he’s crying. Is he crying? Somehow this frightens me more. I’m trembling, holding on to Eric. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that Eric won’t make a sound. The Doctor makes a strong sound, like a growl or a moan. He coughs.

“Bill!” he cries suddenly. I just about jump out of my skin. “Bill!” He’s shouting for Squint. He makes a sound and heads for the door toward the prison cells. For a terrible moment, when he reaches the door, all the Doctor has to do is turn his head. Just a little bit. Just a fraction. And he’ll see us here on the floor, me beneath Eric, with my hand around his mouth. I see him clearly in that moment, his long black hair, his long, pale face, turned toward the door, his corduroy pants, leather shoes, his immaculate robin egg blue shirt. And then he swings the door open and vanishes, crying out, “Bill!”

The minute the door closes behind him, I scramble to my feet. I tug at Eric, my heart racing wildly. Any moment now, he’ll find Squint in the cell, and he’ll know we’ve escaped! Eric has no sense of urgency and goes “Unh” as he gets slowly up to his feet. I shove him forward more violently than I mean to, the adrenalin pulsing through me so hard I can’t think of anything except getting out of the warehouse. My shove sends Eric into the shelving and glass jars topple wildly off and crash to the floor.

“Run!” I plead. “Please run!”

I take Eric’s hand and pull him roughly forward as I hurl myself toward the open door. I push the handle and then Eric crashes into me from behind.

“Unh!” he exclaims. He has me pinned against the door so I can’t open it.

“Back up!” I cry. I arch my back and push him backward and then throw the door open.

“Stop!” I hear, and my heart falls. I turn around and Doctor Bragg is standing in the middle of the hallway. He’s got a gun in his hand pointing toward us. “Stop!” he says again. He pulls the hammer back on his gun. His aim is steady. My mind is running too fast to think. I can only stand there terrified. We’re so close to freedom! So close!

Suddenly there’s a tremendous shattering sound and the Doctor falls to the ground. Standing over him is the woman from the prison, holding the remains of a jar. Next to her is the little girl, looking dispassionately down at the Doctor. The woman looks at me for a moment without emotion. She just stands there. We all just look at each other. Suddenly my heart races to life, and I grab Eric and we bolt outside into the cool, night air. I leave the door open, in case the woman and the little girl follow, but I can’t think of them. I can still feel their eyes on me, but I don’t understand what they want. Standing in the cold, fresh air, I see their eyes gazing at me, the hollowness of them, the darkness.

Finally I take Eric’s hand and lead him down the bank toward the river, trudging through leaves and mud. It feels like I’m dragging Eric forward, which I practically am. He doesn’t act any different as he always does, oblivious to the fact that we’re fleeing for our lives and that if anyone sees us, we’re dead. There are several loud gun shots that seem so loud, the sky seems to crack in half. I stop and look back, but I don’t see anyone charge out of the steel warehouse as I feared.

“Please, please, please run!” I beg Eric. I realize I’m crying again as I drag him forward toward the sound of the river.

And then he is running. He’s running faster than I’ve ever seen him run, even before he had the Worm. I’m gleeful for a moment, thinking it’s a miracle, until I realize he’s running for the water. I bolt after him, thinking that I have to stop him from drinking himself to death, when I run out of the trees and almost die from terror.

The river is not a calm thing, gently gurgling its way to the ocean. It's a roiling, boiling mass of white water, churning up river stones and tearing whole trees from the banking, roots and all. The flooded river has cut a swathe through the area, and there’s a huge, granite outcrop on our side—Eric is sprinting straight for the edge! I hurl myself forward, bursting forward with every ounce of energy I can find. I race toward him, reaching out, hoping I can get to him before he reaches the deadly river. I hammer forward with my legs, expending every bit of energy I have. I sprint forward and reach out for him. I feel my fingers graze his back and then he drops away from me. I skid to a halt and watch with terror as Eric falls, falls, falls, his body turning strangely below me until he vanishes under the white water.

“Eric!” I scream. My whole body goes cold and distant. I look over to see Eric’s red shirt downriver, impossibly far away already.

Time seems to slow. My heart beats once, languidly, like it has to pump ice through my veins. I am stunned he’s gone. It doesn’t seem possible or real. I can see my hand out there, still reaching for him. My heart thumps again. I can get him, I tell myself. I look down at the boiling river and I think it doesn’t look bad. I can jump. I can still get him. I feel myself begin to jump, and then I stop.

“Think, Birdie!”

It’s like a voice. Like his real voice. Like Eric’s in my head talking to me.

My heart thumps again.

Think.