“Why did you shoot them?” Swartz asked me. “The kid is dead now!”
Truthfully, I didn’t know the answer to it. Two men, who now lay dead at my feet, had been following us for days. I didn’t know why, and I wouldn’t now. No one survives the Bloom according to the Statesmen, but these men wore no mask. Just the leathers of dear and the furs of bears. One of the men looked surprised, they had no guns only bows and spears and arrows. The younger of the two had a sheathed knife. Its beautiful pink blade of sharpened rock, so I took it. I took their water too. I thought about the skins, but they had already soaked in the blood.
“Well?” Swartz asked again.
“They have been following us!” I yelled and my voice reverberated mechanically through my mask. “What would you do, wait until they slit our throats at night.”
If they wanted to do that they already…
“Then why would they wait so long?” Swartz asked. “They have had plenty of opportunity. We should go back to Eden. The Statesmen need to know-”
“No,” I said. “How do you think that is going to go? With all their drones, do you think they don’t know? We left, I didn’t ask for you two to come, you followed me. Want to go back, then go, see what happens.”
“We-we are already dead aren’t we…” Swartz said. “Corpsmen don’t desert, we just die…”
This was my Purgatory by design. A false reality of Eden, or the hell of the true world. The old world was nearly lost by now, and the few standing buildings had been completely transformed into multistory jungles. Eventually one by one they would collapse under the weight of nature, but until then there was a beauty to it. Bridges of roots and vines stretched between and connected buildings. Trees grew off and through the buildings flowering and bearing fruits that fell and dropped to the ground, splattering from the sheer height. Vines created lattices up the sides of some buildings, almost braided and man made.
We had been following a herd of deer, picking them off as needed leaving the rest for scavengers and bugs, following them west. We left a trail of dead, and now we added two more to the trail. Was it so different?
Debris and branches fell to the ground a few yards behind us. It cracked and thundered on its way down, and it woke me from thought. I trained by gun quickly at the dust and looked up, and down and up, and back down. Swartz fumbled and shook.
“Are there more of them, Clive?” He asked.
“No,” I replied, “I only saw the two. Just the wind. C'mon let’s go before we lose the light. Unless you want to camp near the dead and welcome the predators in.”
“But we should bury them right?” He asked. “At least the kid?”
Full of questions this one. So I started walking. If he wanted to waste time making the kid food for worms instead of coyotes and wolves and whatever other nasty things lurk in the night, he could. It would be a waste. Soon he hustled behind me, his gun held tightly. He breathed heavily as he got closure. I was doing the same. The air was stale in our mask, batteries nearly dead. Those men didn’t wear mask. I often thought the Statesmen hid the truth from us. The more time I spent patrolling the wilderness, the more I questioned. Old books, old tools, scavenging left me a bit in awe, and it made me far more aware that they had an agenda. Soon I was placed on a leave. You are becoming wild, my commander would say. I was. Staying out with the men longer, even camping out one night. That was the straw, too much risk. Exposure to pollen, and I would Bloom inside of Edens walls.
I took my mask off and threw it to the ground and held my breath. Around my neck I slung a large square scarf I picked up at the market. I folded it over into a triangle, and I fashioned it into a mask bound tightly over my nose and mouth. Even through the fabric the air tasted sweet. It was welcoming, and it begged me to breathe it in unlike the heavy recycled air of the mask and the buildings in Eden.
Swartz looked at me concerned, but he knew the mask wouldn’t last forever. Only the severity and truth just set in. He looked around for something to use. He knew what he was getting into, but he was still so woefully unprepared. Maybe he really didn’t grasp the gravity of leaving Eden. Either way I took an old jacket from my back and used the newly acquired knife to cut large swaths of it free and tossed it to him.
“Do you think the Statesmen lie about people blooming?” He asked as he tied and tucked in the extra fabric. “I mean I have never seen people Bloom.”
“That is because we burn them before they really start to show.” I said realizing that didn’t really answer the question.
Maybe nobody Bloomed, maybe it was just a control measure to scare people into obedience. Generations have come and gone in Eden, so who would really know. Then again the sickness was real. Aged out men often were rounded up and burned for showing symptoms, I used to help do it. If the Bloom was real, then why wait around to see it happen. I had to wonder how many people I took to the furnace just because they were old or sick.
“Maybe it is a half-truth.” I said. “Maybe some people bloom, maybe others don’t.”
Swartz looked at me and asked, “How many people do you think we burn-”
“Don’t think about it, Swartz. We did our jobs, nothing more.” I replied.
We had built a fire, just before the sun hid itself away beneath the horizon. The night snapped cold and the plants all retreated into themselves. Our fire fought back the frost around us, but it glistened in the moonlight waiting for our fire to die out. We ate a few remnants of venison that was tough and gamey, but it sustained us nevertheless. We were bringing down beast that weighed upwards of 80 to 100 pounds, but only taking 10’s of pounds with us. Some wolves and coyotes howled into the night sky. They had been following our trail for as long as we had been killing, feasting on our leftovers, being thankful. Smart creatures, they would never forget the thrill of the hunt, but free food is free food. I couldn’t help but imagine them tearing the kid to shreds, ripping the tissue and muscles, and snapping his bones to lick out the marrow. I would be taking first watch tonight. Swartz quickly dozed off and I was alone with my thoughts still. The moon was waxing, but still offered plenty of light around the landscape. Dark shadows of trees cut into the navy night sky.
For hours I stared at the stars, lost in the recesses of my mind. Going from thought to thought, my wild unrelenting consciousness steering the ship. A few stars shot across the night sky, and the Milky Way shone brightly. I looked for the north star finding it and losing it. Farther the better I thought. Go west until you can’t then go north, go south it is all the same right? I could see a flicker of light in the distance, an orange dancing flame. Swartz was right to question. There was more following us. Then it was gone. I fought off a yawn, and my eyelids grew lazy. Maybe I just imagined it all. Either way… Shake it off man. Wake Swartz up and stay up a little longer. I shook him awake with my foot.
“Get up, Swartz,” I said. “Your watch.”
He grumbled awake and slowly sat up reaching for his water.
“No,” I said, “We need to save our water.”
He begrudgingly set it down and rubbed his face.
He was a much different man when he was tired and trying to wake up. Short tempered, easily annoyed. Generally no fun to be around, but he would fall back asleep first chance he got so I had to stay with him for an hour or so. Truth be told I liked him a bit better this way. Intolerable for sure, but he didn’t whine or question.
“Why did we leave?” Swartz asked.
Well, he definitely was awake now.
“Because Eden is a lie.” I replied stretching.
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“What else could I mean? It is fake, it is unreal. It is compartmentalized, hierarchical. All truth is determined by them, kids are raised by them, trained by them. They assign you a value, and you have to bear that value, if you are worthless than you cost, then you will burn.” I replied.
“But, if it is so fake, so controlling, then they must have wanted you to leave.” He said.
Damn. He had a point, I mean. They did put me on leave, had me watched, evaluated by doctors and shrinks. Then they let me go back to work out here. Didn’t even make me patrol with in the city. They must have known this would happen. Maybe we gave them too much credit. Despite their desire most people in Eden didn’t view the Statesmen as all knowing, at least on the surface they didn’t.
“Maybe,” I said, “you are right. But do you mean to tell me you never questioned their doctrine?”
Silence.
“Exactly,” I said. “I am going to sleep. Wake me in four hours.”
Sun’s rays lit my eyes and warmed my skin. It glistened off the dew dripping from the grass. It had been far more than four hours. My boots were nowhere to be seen, our water all gone, but one empty bottle remained. Swartz snored. Idiot. I dust and dirt into his face and he couched himself awake. He scrambled choking on the coarse particles in his throat. Surprisingly who ever took our water and boots left our guns. Maybe they didn’t understand what they were. Maybe they hadn’t been with the two dead men. We had to be more careful, far more careful. We. Swartz did, but I guess by extension I needed to be. I should have never trusted him with such an important task.
“They are gone.” I said as he looked for his boots. “Water too, except for this empty one. I wonder why they didn’t take it?”
I knew why, but I wanted him to admit it. He didn’t.
“You said, there were only two of them.” Swartz said fearfully.
“There were, now there are more.” I replied. “Let’s get moving. See if we can find any tracks, and keep the sun to our backs until midday.”
We walked for hours, the sun beating down on our shoulders, no breeze to lick away the sweat, and the ground was so cracked and dried from a lack of rain that it bit into our feet. My mouth was so dry that what little spit I could swallow clattered down like glass cutting into my throat. I couldn’t help but to be resentful of Swartz who lagged behind me. I kicked myself too, but that imbecile has no will power. I couldn’t let it eat at me. We had enemies now, real ones. They meant to do us harm, and this was just the beginnings. I hoped they had some reason for not killing us there, some code of ethics or honor. No, if it was purely survival, they would have slit our throats in our sleep. That is what I would have done, but this. This was something different. A test maybe. Why? To see what type of people we are? Maybe they hadn’t seen the other bodies, or those men weren’t their comrades? Maybe…
“Clive, please can we stop.” Swartz asked. “It is so damn hot. I need - “
“You want to stop in the middle of the day, with no shade around?” I asked. “How would that help? Maybe next time you won’t fall asleep asshole.”
Maybe I was the asshole.
I tell him, “Look a few more minutes and we will reach that grove of trees. Suck it up and we will stop there in the shade.”
So we continue to move, the ground stabbing our feet with each step. It began to feel wet. Blood. My feet must have blistered, and blood and pus oozed out. Move faster, I thought. Swartz lagged further behind. His loss, but I turned and looked back. His feet too now. It was just past midday, and we had six to seven more hours of sunlight. Six to seven more hours before we had any break from the heat. We could only hope for some sort of water at grove.
The shade sooted and blessed us, and we sat and rested in its splendor. Swartz began peeling his sock off as it stuck to the bottom of his foot. I dug into my bag. I had to have some bandages or gauze in here. Anything. Nothing.
“Swartz, got any bandages or gauze?” I ask knowing the answer.
“No,” he said.
Of course not, I thought.
I began peeling off my own socks, skin tearing and flaking off from the opened blisters. There was a small brook in the grove, and I washed my feet. I winced at the sting and I rubbed them until the puss stopped oozing. With what was left of my jacket, I fashioned a new set of pseudo-shoes. Swartz stared at me. Sorry bud, not enough to go around.
“Toss me the empty bottle,” I said.
“I-I didn’t bring it…” He replied.
I wish I could have seen the look on my face, because whatever it said turned Swartz pale. Flushed he quickly stood up. It wasn’t until I felt my nails dig into my palm that I realized I had clenched my fist.
I knelt down, cupping my hand into the water and sipping it up. After a few moments, I saw Swartz out of the corner of my eyes. Not even two feet away, he decided to wash his own feet upstream. I didn’t even think about it, but I had knocked him to the ground. I was on top of him clenching his collar and spit flying out of my mouth.
“What kind of idiot are you Swartz!” I yelled. “Why did you even come with me?!”
I took a deep breath and let out a sign. Collected myself.
“Go. Down. Stream.” I said the calmest manner I could muster.
I let go and turned back to the stream as he crawled further downstream, much further than necessary. I drank my fill and leaned back against the tree, chewing on venison. I knew there was no way to get Swartz moving now, not today anyways.
“Do you have anymore cloth?” He quietly asked.
“No,” I said closing my eyes.
“Anything I can use?” He asked again.
“NO,” I said again. “I am going to take a nap. Stay awake this time, I’ll be up before nightfall.”
I dreamed I was in Eden with towering smoke stacks rising above the skyline. Ash lazily floating down and disappearing on the wet streets. Electronic ads displaying in the windows and glass based off my wristbands data. Corpsmen patrolling the streets and walls, freezing any sign of green breaking through the layers of concrete. Aged out men being rounded up and relocated and tested for the Bloom. Music escaping Breeders and polluting the night air with bass and synth. The sour smell of synthetic meat wisping in the wind. Video feeds across all the buildings up to date with the latest devastation mother nature could devise. The wall to wall white observation room I spent a week in after I spent the night in the wilds. The furnace I was thrown into to burn before I Bloomed…
I jolted up brush off the fake fire as the sun dipped below the horizon. Swartz jumped as well, readying his gun. Did he fall asleep? No, no way. I looked around and nothing was out of place. But I still smelled smoke. Lightly in the air, but none reaching towards the darkening sky.
“What is it Swartz?” I said as I switched my rifles safety off.
“I saw,” he said, “something, some kind of light go over head. I don’t know where it came from.”
“Describe it,” I said. “What kind of-”
An arrow zipped past my face, implanting itself in the tree behind me. I dropped down to my face looking ahead.
“Get down you fool!” I ordered.
As I looked back at Swartz, I saw the light. A flaming arrow had landed a few yards on the back end of the grove. The dry leaves and grass quickly caught and it spread up trees and made its way to us. A few more arrows landed between us. There was no way these were meant to kill, no, they were preventing us from sleeping. The heat slowly made its way to us. Forcing us to move, these men were far from savages. Warriors. Their yelps and war cries seemed to permeate from all around us.
“Swartz, lets go!” I said jumping up and sprinting ahead.
The arrows still zipped past our heads. I don’t know when they stopped but we kept running, through tall towers of grass, and into old decaying crops thick with pest. Swartz breathed heavily and gagged from the smell, which I didn’t think was that bad. He kept moving but fell farther and farther behind. The crops stretched for miles, but in the distance there was hill with high walls. It was so out of place and unnatural, it must have been man made.
A silhouette in the distance drew my eyes, it barely stood over the crops disguised and breaking its human shape. I lit it up, until my gun clicked. Stupid. Swartz caught up with me with his gun raised screaming a war cry. I knocked it away. It shouldn’t still be standing. No, no one would stand after my shots hit. Cautiously we moved closer, until the moonlight lit it. A demonic looking scarecrow of sun bleached bones from various animals wrapped in vines and flowers towered over us crucified on heavy branches. The antlers around its head broke apart the moon, and it seemed to stare down into our souls.
Swartz began a coughing fit, choking on the air. He pulled his mask off his face and tried to breath. Put it on you moron, put it back on. I lifted him up, and he quickly replaced his mask. We pushed through the thick crops and swatted at insects that flew in our faces. There were more scarecrows surrounding us the closer we got to the quite hilltop.
I pushed Swartz ahead, so he wouldn’t fall behind. No need going in this alone. He was still breathing heavy. I felt some bumps on his back with every push. He fell screaming as the ground gave way beneath him. Sharpened sticks impaled his feet and shins and he howled into the night. I tried to pull him up but his shirt and jacket ripped away as he thrashed about. The sticks tore away with every move and I could see the sprouting of green across his back. The Bloom. I tore his gun away from him and checked it. Five shots left.
“Please, Clive!” He screamed. “Help me!”
I executed him with his gun and he fell to his face.
The bullet was a better end than the Bloom.
The walls were only a field away, but it was the longest walk of my life. Longer than all the pacing in the observation room, longer than any walk to an extraction point. I poked and prodded the ground every step of the way with the muzzle of Swartz’s rifle. Soon I was at the entrance, the doors effortlessly swaying in the night breeze, and my breath fogged in front of me.
The village was long abandoned, most of it burnt or scorched and in the center stood a large wooden effigy in the likeness of some chimera creature that was filled with human bones blackened by a fire. Evil marked this place and the souls of the sacrifice victims echoed along its walls. Their fats and skins had bled into to the ground forever holding the scent. Across from it was a freshly dug grave. My grave.
I felt the presence behind me. They finally decided to show themselves. I put my heels to the edge of my grave and felt more along the walls. At least six warriors. I held my rifle tight, not that it would matter.
“Why?” I asked. “What was all this for?”
The man, no, it was a woman draped in the familiar furs of a bear replied, “Because, we have enough predators without you.”
She let loose and arrow into my chest, and as I raised my gun I felt two more in my back. I fell into my grave, and my shirt drank up the blood. The woman stood over me, knocking my gun away. She patted me down searching, and as I feebly fought her back she broke off her arrow and stabbed me repeatedly with its shaft, leaving it in my gut. She found the pink knife I taken from the man.
“This doesn’t belong to you,” she said as she stabbed it into my gut and tore it up to my...
** Thank you for taking the time to read my short story. This is my fourth installment in the Bloom Anthology. Read my other stories here:
Bloom
Love is the Reason
Rebirth
As always I appreciate and encourage any feedback or criticism in the comment sections, and I look forward to seeing your thoughts! Again thank you! **
Wow! Really good, I can't wait to read the next instalment. Have you been published? If not you realley should be, that was worth a follow. Thank you for sharing!
Oh my god. Thank you so much! I haven't been published; however, I am thinking about publishing the anthology on Amazon when I am finished with it. I'm a little nervous but I have to start somewhere. :)
Thanks again for the amazing comment and support! Be sure to check out the links to the others I've posted. Most of them are paid out, but it's about the story not the money!
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Good action and nice pacing - well done!
You may wish to edit out the typos, as there are a fair number of them, and as a reader, they do detract from the story. I'm guessing that autocorrect may be partially the culprit.
But I liked the story, and I'll check out your other work. ;-)
Thank you very much! Yes, I'm not the greatest speller in the world. I quickly ran it through my native spell check, and Grade Proof, but skipped grammarly. I should of paid closer attention to it, but I was excited to post it. 🙃
Again thank you and I appreciate the feedback!
You're welcome!
I've always been a great speller, not that I don't make occasional mistakes myself, but I was surrounded by terrible spellers for years, so I know how it goes.
The biggest issue I find with some of the spell checkers is that, especially for those of us using poetic or unusual word choices or sequences, they will actually choose the wrong word, which is close in spelling, but not in meaning.
For instance "and" in place of "an," which can't be corrected using just a spell checker, since both are spelled correctly.
As I said, the errors were minor, but yes, when you have the time, it will make your story even better. ;-)
Yes I've noticed that as well. Grammarly also seems to use UK based English since it always tells me to use colour instead of color, but again what do I know haha..
I'll definitely give it another treat mean after work. Again thank you for your help. 😊 I look forward to seeing you around!
Yeah, my laptop is actually set up for British English, despite being a US machine. And my email provider, being based in Europe, also uses UK English.
But some of the suggestions I get from the spell check and grammar check utilities are beyond hilarious.
I was responding to a reply using my phone last night, and if I had gone with its suggestions, they would have sent the men in white coats. Unreal.