Skeletons (16 page)

"There was no need to do that," I said testily, brushing what little was left of the stew back into its bowl, the rest of it off myself to the ground.

She turned scarlet red and refused to look at me. "Did you hear me? I've done nothing to you. There's no reason to treat me this way."

Unaccountably, she turned away and began to weep.

I was at a loss. She dropped the stew pot at her feet and ran off into the woods. I followed. I found her cradled against a tree, covering her eyes, crying.

"You shouldn't be making such noise. You'll give us away," I said.

She rose and tried to run, but I caught her arm. "What's wrong?" I said. "Why do you treat me as if you hate me?"

"I do hate you! Let me go!"

I released her, and she fled deeper into the woods. I looked back toward camp, sure that Sasha or one of the others would have followed by now. But I was alone. Sasha had repeatedly warned us about wandering too far.

"
Reesa
! Come back here!"

Ahead, I heard her weeping.

And then I heard a sound I had heard once, long ago, in another country.

I ran to the small clearing where she stood frozen against a tree. She had stopped weeping. A wild boar, a vicious creature, stood in the clearing between
Reesa
and me, regarding her sullenly. It was real, not skeletal, its black eyes and white tusks only adding to its fierceness.

"Don't move,
Reesa
," I whispered.

She nodded slightly.

The boar snorted angrily, a prelude to attack, its eyes riveted on
Reesa
.

I searched the woods behind me frantically for a weapon. I found a long, hard stick, but neither end was sharp. I threw it down. I was searching for another when I heard a cry and looked up to see that the boar had charged
Reesa
.

I grabbed the unsharpened stick and ran into the clearing. Unthinking, I jumped onto the boar's back, looped the hard stick under its throat, and pulled back. The beast's legs buckled. But I had merely transferred its wrath to myself. In a moment the boar had flipped me over. I held the stick around its throat for dear life, as the boar now poised to thrust at me viciously with its tusks.

Reesa
appeared above me, drew a knife out from her boot, and slashed down at the boar, cutting long and deep into the animal's throat.

It gave out a horrible wail, kicked its legs, and as
Reesa
held the knife to the main vein, the boar suddenly collapsed in a bloody heap.

Only to come back to life a moment later as a skeleton.

But
Reesa
had anticipated this. When the change came, she brought her knife through the bones in the animal's neck.

Once again it died, its bones turning to dust.

We were thrown into a heap together as the boar disappeared.

We lay panting, and
Reesa
laughed. "I'm afraid you'll have to put up with my vegetable stew for some time to come."

She raised herself over me, her hair hanging down like a mantle as she studied my face. "More than anything in my life," she said, "I've feared, and wanted, this moment."

She kissed me, pressing her mouth hard against mine. I felt myself respond, enfolding her in my arms, holding her tight against me. It seemed not only right, but strangely inevitable.

I broke the kiss and smiled slightly. "But I thought you hated—"

"Be quiet,"
Reesa
said.

I was, for a time.

So the next weeks passed.
Reesa
and I were lovers. There was nothing but acceptance from the others. Indeed, it had been expected. Sasha was not
Reesa's
father, as I had thought; neither were
Tibor
or Caspian her brothers. The other girl, the dark-haired one named Maria, was a cousin of the young men. I gathered from one conversation with Sasha that there had been many more of them at one time. When I pressed him for details, he gave me his sad smile and said, "In time, I'll tell you."

We passed through much country. It had become summer, making our journey more pleasant; the nights, especially, were cool and clear, with stars overhead through the trees. Many evenings I lay with
Reesa
in my arms, looking at the turning bowl of the Big Dipper, the rising keystone of Hercules with his club, the easily recognized Leo, the huge lion.

We traveled by day, mostly. We met no opposition; the towns and villages we passed through on our journey north and east were deserted of all but skeletal animals. There were plentiful provisions, mostly dry foodstuffs, with an occasional prized can of meat or fish.

During the first few days of this time the pilot in the wagon grew worse. I know that Sasha had been ready for his death; one night when it seemed the young pilot would pass from this world, Sasha stood vigil the entire night, after binding the man hand and foot.

"If he dies," Sasha said, "he will die a second time, quickly."

It was a rough night for Maria, who had come to be the pilot's nurse. But the next morning, after the pilot's fever finally broke and he awakened, it was Maria's and not Sasha's face he saw. There was instant feeling between them, and as the pilot grew stronger he and Maria were inseparable.

One night after dinner the pilot was strong enough to join us as we sat around the fire, talking. He was not a shy young man, but he did wait to be invited. When Sasha bade him sit with us, he wasted no time and pulled out a pack of American cigarettes from his pocket to pass around.

"Marlboros!"
Tibor
cried happily.

"Ah, wonderful," Sasha said, lighting one. "It's been a long time since I could kill myself slowly and enjoy it."

"You are good people," the pilot said. "I thank you for my life."

"You would have thanked us for your death, had you not recovered," Sasha said.

The young man nodded. "I would have done the same thing." He paused. "I did it for my best friend the day I flew out."

"Was it madness?" Maria said, coming up behind him to put her hands on his shoulders.

"Yes, madness is the word for it," he said. He leaned in closer to the fire. "A nightmare. The sirens went off, but when we got to our planes, half of them were already in the air, with them at the controls." He shivered. "It seems the skeletons had attacked the other barracks, turning all of those fellows into
 
. . . those things. We had to fight a battle just to get into the air. We were ordered to fly north, save the planes, regroup. Only four of us got off the ground without being . . . changed."

He gazed into the flames. "My best friend, Mikhail, was turned into one of them before my eyes. One moment he was fighting beside me, the next he was hit by a bullet."
           

"We all have similar stories," Sasha said.

"Yes," the pilot said, "I suppose you do." He gazed very hard into the fire. "But I killed him with my own hands, watched him turn to dust. We had been at flight school together."

Maria hugged him.

"But," the pilot said, looking up from the fire and giving us a hard smile, "we have a new army now, eh?"

Sasha shrugged. "Of sorts. There are things that can be done."

"Such as?" the pilot said bitterly. "Do you know that most of the Red Army was decimated in one day? I listened to the radio when I finally got into the air. My three companions were shot down before me, by men they had known, played cards with the night before. Men made of bones . . ." He snorted, threw his cigarette into the fire. "I'm sorry I'm talking like this. I'm being selfish. It's just that when I awoke, I thought it might all have been a bad dream."

"Did you hear anything about Moscow?" I asked.

He looked at me. "Yes. Total destruction. Half the city in flames. Things went better at Leningrad. Before I crashed, there were reports that Leningrad had become a garrison town, a tough band of fighters holding out in the center of the city. I wish them well."

He pulled another cigarette from his pack, lit it. Around the fire there was silence.

The pilot said, "Well, what chance do we have? They have the planes, the tanks, most of the soldiers. Thousands of years of bodies to use in battle. What hope is there against them? Nuclear weapons? Where do we drop them, on ourselves? Destroy everything to save our own skins?" He became more angry. "Did you know that that bastard Stalin was in charge in Moscow? He had Lenin killed on the second day. He had already killed most of the czars as they approached the capital. It's said he murdered Nicholas the Second himself, waiting by the grave. It's insane, I tell you."

"As I said, there are ways," Sasha said quietly.

The pilot looked at him sharply. "Do you think anywhere is safe? We heard reports. China, America, the same everywhere. There's not enough vodka in the world to make this nightmare disappear."

Sasha went to the wagon, returned with a dark bottle. "Perhaps this will help," he said.

The pilot took the bottle thankfully, drank long from it. He gave it back to Sasha. "I apologize. I'm afraid I'm not myself. It's just the shock of it all."

The bottle was passed around, came back to the pilot. He took another drink and then yawned.

"He's tired, he must still rest," Maria said.

"I am tired," the pilot said. He stood up. Some of his anger had drained away. "You are good people. Please forgive me."

"Go to sleep," Sasha said gently.

"Yes," the pilot said, yawning again.

Maria led him back to the wagon.

"He's right, you know," I said, accepting the bottle and drinking from it. "It does seem hopeless.”

“I don't see you giving up," Sasha said.

"No."

"I can't see you offering your throat to become one of them. Can you?"

"But no, I couldn't do that. Someone once said, 'The man without himself is nothing.'"

"Ah," Sasha said. He leaned closer to me. "Tell me," he said, "just who are you?"

He let me drink from the bottle again. I shook my head. "I'm nobody." I looked at him sharply. "Why don't you tell me why you seem to know so much about me, and where we're going?"

Sasha smiled, accepted the bottle back from me. "Ah," he said. "All good things in their time, eh?"

A week later the pilot and Maria left us.

It was a parting that Sasha seemed to know was coming. All of them did.
Reesa
began to fuss over Maria the day before, mending her clothing, helping her gather food. The pilot was sullen and anxious.

The night before their leaving he announced his intentions.

"We wish you well," Sasha said simply.
Tibor
produced a satchel with weapons in it, opening it for the pilot's inspection. It contained a handgun, a rifle with bayonet, a hunting knife. He rewrapped it, handed it to the pilot.

"It will help,"
Tibor
said.

"Thank you," the pilot said. His nervousness had drained away. "I came here expecting a fight. Maria has agreed to go with me. I thought you would fight to keep her. I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," Sasha said. He proffered a dark bottle. "Drink. Your decisions are your own."

The pilot sat with us. "I do want to explain my decision," he said. "I just feel we should be on our own. I want to find a place away from all this madness, perhaps in the Urals. I still hope that one morning I will wake up and all of this will be gone. I just feel in my heart it will end, and I want to come down off my mountain someday and find that the earth has been returned to us."

"That would be a good feeling," Sasha said, looking at me.

"And ... Maria has agreed to come with me. We're going to hide, start a family."

"We wish you well," Sasha said.

"I . . ." He looked down, suddenly angry. "You sound as if you don't believe my intentions. Perhaps you think I'm a coward for not fighting on?"

"Not at all," Sasha said.

"What is it, then? I can tell by your tone of voice alone that you don't think we will succeed."

"Please don't be angry. It has nothing to do with you."

"All right," the pilot said, his anger draining.

Sasha rose, came around the fire to embrace Maria. The pilot rose and shook his hand. They embraced briefly. "You'll be leaving in the morning?"

"Yes."

"Good. We're heading for the Urals ourselves, but our way is slower. We have things to do along the way. Perhaps we'll see you up the road. Two will travel faster alone. I hope you find what you want."

The pilot looked at all of us, filled with emotion. "You are . . . good people," he said.

He turned away, bearing his satchel of weapons, Maria at his side.

At first light the next morning they left.

We saw them off. I turned to
Reesa
, who stood beside me, and said, half smiling, "Perhaps we should do the same. We could hide in the mountains ourselves, become Adam and Eve."