Rule 6

Beware Long Walks & Baby Orcs Love Bush

Statement: Time had passed. Lots of time. More than I ever expected. On the ride home the storm overhead cast down lightning. In bouts of brief illumination a country side, the city, and finally my neighborhood had clearly changed. I did not start questioning this until a few days later. Why?

At first I believed this all to be a dream. It might still be. Yet, the entire event had been just familiar enough to make sense. Human seeming bus drivers. Human seeming store owners. Machines that resembled those from school. It was carefully designed, like a badly painted stage would represent some storyland. But unlike a theater event, this one kept right on going after the curtain close.

There was another line which led up to a smaller bus. This hardly surprised me. I tucked the book into an inside pocket and limped into the much tinier group of people. We hadn’t all made it, but part of me hoped others had left on earlier rides home. Perhaps this single story tiny bus, which looked like my county supplied door-to-door service, served as a final take home.

The driver was not Leon or one of the green-eyed stewardesses. A large fat balding woman with a cigar thumbed me on. I limped back to a seat, feeling slightly better but still hungry. Twisting knots in my gut suppressed all other pains. There was no time for a bathroom.

I felt thankful that my desire to eat had dropped since the accident. One water bottle of water should be survivable for the bus trip. My vision shifted in and out of focus. My current goal was to go, wherever this bus went. Then once I landed it would be possible to evaluate how to survive.

Staying compartmentalized was not easy. My body shook and arms were unsteady. The only reassuring factor was a return to my town. I recognized the city. Distance between where we’d been and my hometown was too short. California had a lot of towns and a few major places that could have housed that stadium-sized shopping mall.

Everything felt almost normal. A storm boiled overhead, rain poured down in thick waves, and lightning flashes illuminated an almost normal looking town. Bright lights along the street helped me feel comfortable. Signs were in the right spots.

The words were illegible through the water. I attempted to read them over and over to distract myself from stomach issues. The supermarket was lit up, but it looked less white and more yellow. It might have been a late night casting of the lights.

I suspected it wasn’t. This world was no more normal than the long line and vending machines. Or the barely human-looking stewardesses. There had been many slightly off items. Word choice, features, each one nagged me for attention. Debt cards, Wildlings, Underkin, Secret King, whatever the heck all those things meant was beyond me.

“Those who wander are losers” and “We’ve got great prizes.” They called dollars by the wrong name. That fat store owner had called them deers. If I operated under the premise that all these people were speaking English as a second language, it vaguely made sense.

The trip home, returning to a more familiar setting, helped. I closed my eyes constantly and strained muscles to control my bladder. At times I’d doze off completely, as if I’d been awake for endless hours and only now been given a chance to sleep.

When I dreamed, I imagined blissful quiet. That did not last. A deep darkness swallowed me whole and muscles tightened. Something tried to pull my head off. They pulled my leg. I tensed, and flailed against it. Someone screamed, and another person laughed wildly.

My leg popped off, and a new one grew behind it. I snorted. The attempt at ripping me apart was useless. Legs, arms, even eyeballs. Something yanked all of them, and I simply grew another. The other person was no longer laughing, instead I bubbled over with mirth. I’d survive this. I’d survived being hit by another car. I’d survive it all.

The attacks grew more brutal. My regeneration continued. It itched, pulled, and twisted new body parts into place. Each time they grew back wrong. They were less normal. Skin tone changed. What I saw changed.

Then in the dream, I thought it would be funny to attack the other person back, instead of simply laughing at their inability to rend me apart. Catharsis felt good.

Post Note: In the dream, and this was a dream, I showed the other person how it was done. Our roles were truly reversed. I was the render, and that other person the one being rent. I laughed cruelly and they screamed. I woke, afraid of myself. I’ll say no more on the depths of that darkness.

A horn honked loudly. I jerked awake. Sweat dripped from my face and pooled uncomfortably around my groin. Drool trickled down my chin and part of me had been excited. My clothes smelled exactly as a damp dog.

The woman covered by boils grumped. “Get off.”

No one else but me was on the bus. I couldn’t remember anyone else getting off. None of the other passenger’s faces had stuck with me. Dozens of us had gotten on, but I was either the last one to get home, or the only one to survive.

A foul smell of fat people odor hung around the bus driver. Her eyes darted uneasily. The walking cane in her hands dripped with green ooze. She reached out to poke me with it and I smacked it away. Gross liquid smeared across my hand and the seat side.

“Get off.”

“All right.”

The bus had parked outside a convenience store on the corner. My house was four blocks away. Normally I’d complain but the woman’s smell worsened the longer I sat still. Sweat, flour, and an open sewer scent all mixed together. I fled the bus while the woman with no hair on her head hacked wetly.

The lines of parking lot paint were still wet. I gave the store a once over and couldn’t bring myself to step inside. The lights in there were dim and the open sign unlit. It felt wrong, but everything did.

My ride home peeled out wildly. I hobbled to the sidewalk, stepping in fresh paint, and covered my face with a hand. The vehicle spun around in place, gained traction, ran over three bushes and tore off down the empty road. I made it to the corner, glanced around and released my bladder over wild shrubs.

I shook in relief and zipped back up. My body still hurt, mostly at the hips and a hungry stomach. Home would take only a few minutes to reach. It might be different, but it might be the same. There’d be bread, jelly, and peanut butter. A sandwich would be welcome. Medication could take care of the remaining pain while I figured out what to do.

Three blocks from home, I realized that all the cars were in new positions. Someone had piled them up along the road like a barricade between two houses. It was dark and the street lamps overhead didn’t light up enough. They were dimmer than I remembered.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Rain pelted me. My footsteps were dim and socks soaked through. Puddles lined the roadside. There were excessive cracks in the cement. Roots and grass poked through. People’s untamed lawns swallowed the sidewalk.

I shuffled faster. The neighborhood worried me. Darkness covered up too many secrets. A few other houses were lit. Inhuman shadows moved inside.

Two blocks from home, a corner house flared with light. An angry laugh echoed through the open door. The door hung, partially off its hinges. The brightness faded. I tried to pick up the speed but my body tensed.

One measly block from home and a short creature dove out of the bushes. I pulled back. A second thing charged out after it. The more human-shaped creature had a broken fence post in its hands. Two huge tusks dripping with fur and gore protruded from its mouth.

It resembled a half-sized orc from some fantasy movie. Only it wasn’t on a television or video game, it was in front of me. It was chasing something that ran like a chicken but looked like a rabbit with short ears. Both of them bolted across the road.

“Meat! Meat, meat, meat, meat,” the mini-orc shouted while running after the rabbit, or chicken.

Speculation: I had gone insane. This was an advanced hallucination and I’d simply gone on a trip to get prescription refills. All of the store’s goods were perfectly aligned with everyday normal items.

I held very, very still. The mini-orc did not show the slightest amount of caring for me. I thought it may be a little person chasing after a loose dog, except for the large stick in its hands. It ran, swinging the piece of fence repeatedly.

My groin tightened and butt clenched. I tried to tell myself that had simply been a delusion. The mini monster shouted. There was a disgusting wet crunch of noise. I broke and moved quicker than I had in months, straight for home.

I worried that no place else would be safe. Maybe there were monsters inside my home. Something had moved my wheelchair and closed the door, and it no longer made sense that wind could do such a thing.

Two houses away, I noticed one of the neighbors’ homes had been completely crushed. The ceiling line that normally stood out against a low moon had clearly been smashed in the middle. I hoped it was a trick of the overcast night.

One house away.

“Eat, eat!” something nearby chanted. Three other voices also shouted the same words. A cracking sound came from the neighbor’s wooden fence. Shadows waved, lit by God knew what.

“Eat!” the creatures grunted in badly timed unison.

My foot caught on something in an overgrown lawn. Down I went. My tired body barely registered the shift and I landed on my elbows. Shock rippled through and jolted my shoulders. The book in my jacket pocket pressed against multiple ribs. I gasped.

Voices chorused behind me, “Eat! Meat. Eat. Meat.”

I kicked and pushed myself toward the walkway. Asphalt tore at my pants. My body twisted and turned as sticks slammed into my calves. I crawled the entire way up the sidewalk, over grass, and to the doorstep. The doorknob refused to turn. The house had been locked.

“Eat!”

I froze with my hand behind me on the doorknob. I turned to kick one of the creatures back. They chattered madly. Dozens were there, chanting, and banging objects stolen from people’s backyards. Their uneven teeth and long tusks waved around. One held a lantern that cast dancing light across the yard.

A dead man’s body sat in the middle of them. Its arm reached out awkwardly toward the door. There were signs of it being picked at by scavengers. This was the end. I closed my eyes and swallowed.

Something on top of dad’s house growled. The creatures jerked their heads up in unison. They eyed the roof, backing up and bobbing.

“Retreat!” the one with the lantern shouted. He, or she, waved it. The creatures scattered and fled down the street like a badly formed pack of children.

I stood slowly. The knob under my hand felt warm. There was a click, and the door opened. A few minutes passed as I stood there shaking. Images of the inside of my house, before getting on that bus, flashed through my head. There had been a lot of creepy factors that I’d simply ignored.

A note was pinned on the door; covered by a plastic bag but condensation had caused the ink to fade. I stepped inside toward a lone light sitting on the kitchen table. It danced, as if flame was instead a small captive creature. Shaking assaulted me as I read the waterlogged letter.

Son,

I hope this reaches you and that you’re safe. I’ve bargained with an unnamed being. We’ve reached an accord to keep the house protected for three days after you arrival.

Asking questions will void the contract. Stay out of my room. Stay out of the attic. Keep quiet if you can. The, contracted being, detests loud noise.

I saw you in line, far, far behind me. I pray you reached the end. Learn the basics of whatever you earned quickly then venture to the government building downtown.

If you truly did survive, if you continue to survive, we’ll meet again. Be sure of that. Faith will keep you strong. Strength is all that matters, or we’ll be sheep among wolves.

Dad

I asked myself a hundred malformed questions. None of them came with easy answers. My brother mentioned dad was on his way home before this whole event. It was possible he’d been kidnapped to this other place. The march of millions could have started days, or weeks, before my own boarding of the bus.

Post Note: I still do not know. I will find out. I will find the truth. But what should I do once I learn the truth? What can I do? A changeling’s gift, a blade of night, a star runed board—all partially broken. These gifts pale compared to others. But unlike some, I still survive.

The promise of safety might be a lie. It didn’t matter. I was too hungry and needed a place to rest. Both were beyond important. I staggered to the kitchen, found a piece of bread and beer, and promptly devoured both. The beer might have been a poor choice but there were no other bottled objects inside my home. The faucet had a bit of water but that might be only what remained in the basin.

Plus, alcohol had a secondary effect. It helped me pass out that much quicker. I was drowsy going to my room. There were blankets in a closet, the clothes were layered with dust. They stayed in the closest. I closed the curtains and pushed my dresser in front of the window. A fuzzy haze peeked out from behind the curtain. I worried there might be a creature on the roof who’d dare crawl in my window and kill me before that guardian took action.

I pushed my desk in front of the door. The dancing light from my kitchen table danced, sending alien shadows around the room. Home no longer felt safe. But I was too tired, and my stomach hurt from the slice of bread, to the point of nausea. I hadn’t eaten anything real in too long.

Then, once again, I slept. This time I dreamed of nothing.

In the morning my eyes opened, and I prayed it had all been a dream.

The window was boarded still. My bedroom door stayed closed with a table pressed against it. Clothes in the closet hung, grayed by a thin layer of dust. My fingerprints were on the desk, and bed warm from body heat. I stayed there, shivering violently and tried to understand.

Post Note: I’ll spare you the details. In truth, I could no longer compartmentalize what had happened. Of my three allowed days, I spent most of the first experiencing a nervous breakdown. All questions of this new world were shoved into a box and ignored. I exited the room only for food, water, and a bath—which involved me, a washcloth, and a bar of soap. It was pathetic.

Three days dwindled rapidly to two. Or, I assumed it did. The actual time escaped me since zero clocks worked and the sky barely brightened. At times, rays of sunlight shone through. I felt better and worse after having a most of a day to break down quietly.

By midday, I felt brave enough to wander around the house. Somehow the home, as light outside dimmed, felt less foreign. Darkness made the world harder to see. It was easier to lie to myself about the horrors outside.

I closed the blinds on every window of the house. The doors were all double-checked. There were no signs of anything missing or changed to the home’s belongings.

First, I established edible food. Items in the fridge were oddly okay, despite the lack of electricity. I ate more because my stomach kept rumbling. The pain from my trip had mostly faded. Even my hip felt better. Sleep might have done it, or food, or simply moving.

My phone didn’t turn on. I shook it, cracked open the back, and sand trickled out. The device couldn’t operate without a battery. The television, microwave, and vibrating chair all failed to do anything. Even the red light for power refused to flicker. Electricity should still work unless we’d lost a power plant. Lightning flashed occasionally outside. The laws of physics were being violated and I wasn’t smart enough to figure out anything beyond that.

Once again I found myself in front of the window, sitting my wheelchair. It wasn’t even that I needed the device anymore, I walked without pain. It served as a glorified moving chair which allowed me to observe the outdoors. Monsters prowled the street but none dared get too close to my home. The world I’d known was different. That included me.

Richard and his entire family might be dead and gone. Dad, hopefully my dad, might still be downtown. He and others might be different as well. The possibilities were so far outside my scope it was impossible to know for sure.

I munched more food from the cabinets and ran water from the sink. Hunger had been solved. My purchased items must be able to help me survive. I had three days to learn how to use this fancy journal, find better food, and figure out how to handle those small tusked creatures roaming the streets.

Then there would be dealing with other survivors. I couldn’t decide which would be worse.