Broken Things (6 page)

Each night went by much the same. He would hear creatures
outside his tent, rummaging through the garbage of what had once been his food,
the stuff not worth picking up, searching for scraps they had missed. Josh
prayed that whatever was out there wouldn’t try to get into the tent for what
he had. Once one of the animals actually put its nose against the tent and
sniffed, rubbing against the fabric as though trying to decide if getting in
would be worth it. It sounded small, like a fox or raccoon. He’d dug through
the boxes his mother had left, but all he had were spare clothes. They hadn’t
even packed him a flashlight. It made his nights nearly unbearable.

Evening came and his stomach felt unbearably empty. He had
one can of soda remaining, but he decided to save it for breakfast. But there
was something else, tonight felt different. It felt just as uncomfortable as
the other nights, but he sensed a new element. As the sun dipped behind the
mountains and the shadows grew longer it felt as though something were watching
him.

It grew too cold and dark to remain outside much longer. He
turned, sensing something, or someone, in the trees. He could nearly look right
at where he could feel the eyes, but he only saw trees and brush and shadows.

“Hello?” he called out, but nothing answered.  

He couldn’t tell if anything were out there. Could it be
another deer? His mind played tricks on him every night, making monsters out of
shadows until he would rush to the tent and hide in his sleeping bag.
Fortunately nothing had eaten him yet. But the shadows tonight felt alive,
sinister, much more than usual. Sometimes he just knew when he was being
watched, like feeling eyes on the back of his head. This felt much like that.
The shadows seemed… real. If the wind would die down, and if he could separate
noises from the river and his head, he thought perhaps he could almost hear
breathing.

If it were, it belonged to someone sicker than him, or not
human, someone that had bad lungs, rasping like a smoker needing to cough.
Every hair stood up on the back of his neck, and he felt an overwhelming need
to run. But where would he run to in the dark? He had nowhere to go. And how
did it get dark so rapidly? As he’d sat there staring, watching for movement,
the night blanketed his campsite until even the shadows were indiscernible from
one another, and the tree tops were black silhouettes against a midnight blue
sky.

Josh forced himself to walk as nonchalantly to his tent as
possible.
Don’t show fear. That’s what they tell you about animals. What if
it’s not an animal? Don’t think about that. Just… walk… It’ll be gone in the
morning. It’s just shadows, nothing more.
 

Hiding in the tent felt a little safer, if only in the fact
that he wasn’t lost in the woods. Well, technically he knew he was lost.
Otherwise he’d be home in his warm bed. His ears strained against the natural
cacophony of the environment, trying to separate and discern different sounds,
praying to not really hear anything. The high-pitched whine from his head
fought to blanket out everything else. Perhaps the damage was a blessing,
giving him the bliss of ignorance.

No. There
was
something there.  It sounded like…
something pulling itself across the ground.

Drag. Silence. Drag. Silence. Drag.
He could hear it
pull itself across the twigs and dirt and leaves, coming closer, getting
louder. It moved so slowly, yet steadily. Whatever it was it had seen him enter
the tent. And it sounded big.

The darkness of the tent was absolute, no light, not from a
moon nor the stars, penetrated the fabric. Though a barrier from the outside,
Josh felt like a mouse in a thin cardboard box. He squeezed his pillow tightly
and scrunched deep into his sleeping bag. He could no longer hear the whining
in his head over how loudly his heart beat in his chest. He was sure that
whatever approached could hear both.

The
thing
continued ever closer and closer, right up
to his tent. Josh’s eyes were wide but he couldn’t see anything. He tried to
breathe quietly, to control his whimpering, and to mute the sound of his brain.
He couldn’t stop any of it. Something like a paw,
or a hand
, moved along
the tent, the structure shifting, fighting to remain up as
the thing’s
weight pressed against it. Somehow it didn’t collapse. He strained his eyes to
see it, he could barely make out the walls of the tent, see the impression of
something leaning into it, coming dangerously close to collapsing his tenuous
shelter.

He fought to find his voice but his throat wouldn’t work. He
only emitted a tiny whimper. It patted the tent, searching. And then Josh heard
the zipper.

It unzipped slowly, sounding impossibly loud against the
stillness of the woods, a premonition of something horrible, unknowable.
The
thing
slid down with the zipper, using its own weight to pull it open. If
only he could see. What was it? But he didn’t
want
to see it! He closed
his eyes tightly, willing himself to be quiet, to become invisible. Maybe it
couldn’t see him in the dark either.

The chill of the mountain’s night air filled the tent,
bringing with it a new scent. He nearly gagged, smelling something rotten. It
reminded him of spoiling meat mixed with the smell of an old garbage can.
Whatever it was,
the thing
fell into the tent
. Its weight landed
with a dull thud. He could hear its breathing now, a pained, sick rasping, a
wheezing, as though it fought for each breath.

Josh pulled his knees to his chin, making himself as small
as possible.
Please make it go away
, he prayed,
please send it away!

The
thing
dragged itself into the tent, and he felt a
tug on the bottom of his sleeping bag. It pulled on it, slapped along the bag,
searching for him. And then its hand came to rest on his foot.

Terror seized him and he kicked away from it, leaping out of
the sleeping bag and into the corner of the tent. He pressed himself against
the wall as hard as he could. He had nowhere to run.

“Go away!” Josh said with his voice nothing but high-pitched
whisper. He couldn’t see it, not even a silhouette, but it drew closer, until
Josh could feel its hot, fetid breath on his face. It smelled foul, of refuse.

Josh held perfectly still, he could feel the thing’s
movement inches from his skin. It sniffed him with deep congested snorts. He
wanted to shove past it and run, but his arms and legs felt like they’d turned
to jelly. They wouldn’t obey him, they didn’t want to move. He considered
playing dead, but this wasn’t a bear. No way was it a bear, unless they knew
how to open zippers. It had to be something dead. Nothing else could smell so
bad. He began to cry.
It’s going to eat me!

The whine in his head increased unbearably as his awareness
slipped away and he lost consciousness.

5

The child wasn’t human! But it had to be. The androids
didn’t feel such emotions. Had the world changed so much? The differences
between this boy and the children of the past were so few it almost hadn’t been
able to tell the difference. Maybe the rest of the children were the same now.

It would’ve thought the kid human if not for his damage. The
boy’s head continually emitted a loud whine like bearings going out in a motor,
but when it approached the sound suddenly stopped and he collapsed. It could
still hear the blood pumping through him.

The question was… did this change anything?

It grew weaker by the second, its energy dissipating. It
cursed itself for its weakness. Its body was failing. It screamed its misery for
what it had become as its energy slipped away. Near the river an empty, rotting
log would provide shelter. The child was broken and abandoned, with nowhere to
go, just like it. Nobody wanted a kid that wasn’t perfect.

6

Josh awoke, shivering. The whine in his head started up
again and brought with it a dull ache within his skull. The sun had just risen
above the eastern peaks and its rays had yet to provide any heat to the cold
morning.

It all came back to him in a rush. Something horrible had
trapped him in his tent. He leapt to his feet and looked around hurriedly. What
if it was still out there? Of course it was, these woods belonged to it. He
didn’t belong here, he was the one intruding on its territory.

He shuddered. Nothing hurt though, other than the obvious
pain in his head. That was good. It meant that the creature had decided not to
eat him.

There was only one place he’d be safe, and that was at home.
He had to get back and reach his parents. He couldn’t be here in the dark, ever
again. He sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. Just when he
thought he couldn’t cry anymore, it all started up again. Maybe he could at
least reach the lake before night fell again. If there were people around, the
creature should stay away. He had to hope it would. 

Josh found his one last can of soda and drank it quickly for
breakfast, and thought forlornly of all of the treats the animals had stolen.
He tried to take down the tent but gave up quickly, leaving it in a jumbled
mess. He couldn’t sleep in it another night anyhow. He would never sleep in a
tent again. He looked around for anything to take, but he had nothing.

That’s good, I’ll get where I’m going that much faster.
He
needed to conserve his strength. He didn’t know how long of a walk it would be.
Maybe he would find other campers, and other campers meant food.  

The cold morning quickly turned hot and muggy as he set out.
Heat radiated from the road as he walked and he wiped the sweat from his
forehead with the bottom of his dirty t-shirt. Hunger and fear pushed him on,
the desire for shade from the sun a distant second. He wished for clouds. If
the day were cooler, he could travel faster, and leave whatever lived here far
behind. He trudged on, constantly keeping an eye on the embankments, looking
for signs of his family’s vehicle where they might’ve gone off of the road, or
signs of a monster hunkered down in the brush, waiting to pounce.

Maybe the creature had gotten his parents too.  

A giant black fly landed on his arm and he brushed it away
hurriedly. The big fat ones bit. It swarmed around his head angrily before
landing on the back of his neck. He swung his arms wildly and jumped up and
down until it finally left him alone. There were mosquitoes too, but for the
most part they didn’t bother him. They, at least, didn’t like his taste.

A giant shadow passed over him. He looked up to see large
billowy clouds rolling in over the mountains, blocking the harsh sun.
Finally
,
he thought,
a break!

The clouds brought some relief, but they grew steadily
darker as they spread across the sky, and brought with them a rumbling of
thunder. He picked up the pace, as the first cold drops of rain began to fall.
Within minutes it fell thick and heavy. The dry dirt road seemed to resist it
at first, but soon lost the battle, becoming a thick, sticky mud. He darted
over to a thick copse of trees to escape, but it only diminished the downpour,
it couldn’t stop it completely, and before long he was soaked.

It didn’t let up, continuing to hammer him as though it had
a personal vendetta. As the wind increased it brought the rain in sideways
under the limbs of his shelter, even when he tried to hide on the other side of
the trees. The thunder shook the very air, louder than anything he had ever
heard at home, and the lightning lit the cloud-created darkness in brilliant
but short flashes.

His eyes began to gray out, and his head began to pound, and
with it the noise in his head increased.
No
, he thought,
not again.

7

Josh woke to a loud rumble of thunder. His back rested
against a tree and his clothes were soaked completely through. It had grown
darker, if that were possible. Had he blacked out through the entire day? The
whining of his head started up again and increased in volume rapidly and he
pressed his palms to his forehead. “Please stop,” he said out loud, “No more.”

He had to get moving again, but the pain increased with the
sound, threatening to split his head open. If it were night, the creature would
be back. He had no doubt it waited for him at the edge of the shadows, waiting
to taste his fear with its long dry tongue, and this time it would eat him,
piece by piece. He stumbled to his feet, but they slipped in the mud and he
fell to his hands and knees. He let out a single sob as his mind slipped away
again.

8

He lived! Josh looked up at the dissipating clouds in
relief. Was it even the same day? He didn’t know for how long he’d been
unconscious, but he shivered from his cold wet clothing. He lay on his stomach,
cheek pressed into the wet earth. He hadn’t bothered to grab spare clothes, but
he didn’t know how he would’ve kept them dry anyhow. The dirt road had
transformed to mud, and every dip held a puddle, but the clouds had thinned and
the sun finally broke through. With the sun returned some of the heat. The sun
had risen higher into the sky.  

The noise of his head came back, but softly.
I can’t get
scared again
, he thought,
I keep rebooting.

The sun felt good, but a cool breeze offset it, giving him
goose bumps. He started walking again. The only other option would be to head
back to his camp, but that felt like crawling back to die. As long as he
walked, as long as he got home, he’d be okay. His parents would know what to
do. They could be close, maybe they were at the lake with the other people.

The passing of the rain brought back the insects in full
force. More flies followed him, biting at his arms and face. He walked faster,
as fast as he thought he could get away with without taxing himself to the point
of blacking out again, trying to leave the flies behind. Whatever had gone
wrong in his head seemed to be getting worse. He felt miserable in his wet
clothing. He tried to ignore the cold, ignore the constant growling of his
stomach, to stop thinking about monsters, and ignore his malfunctioning head.
He had to focus on each step. Keep each foot moving. One foot in front of
another.