Bish scraped the crisp edges of the cards across his callused palms to drown out the young woman’s voice coming from the viewer screen behind him. Lightning flashed through the window and the screen went dark for a moment. He shook his head and scratched his neck before laying out the beginnings of a game of Solitaire. He paused when he heard the light sound of Kalo’s feet crossing to the bunkhouse door. In the distance, thunder rumbled. He scooped the cards back into a pile.
“Hey, young lady. What’s the rush?” He tilted his head back until the brim of his hat showed his eyes.
Kalo jerked her fist from the door, but held her toe against it. “No rush. Just, uh, going for a walk.”
“You’re going for a walk in this storm?”
Kalo stuck out her arms and spun around. “Isn’t that what a raincoat is for?”
Bish eyed the hump under the backside of her raincoat. Her backpack. “The way you tear out of here every evening, you’d think you were going for a run.” He waved his hand. “Come here a minute.” He turned and yanked the power cord from the viewer. “I swear this thing’s gonna get fried by a bolt of lightning.”
Kalo wiped her feet on the concrete and put her hands in her pockets. “I really just want to go and relax for a while.”
“Okay. Then come here for half a minute.”
“I…”
Bish motioned to the table until Kalo relented. When she got there, she glanced at the clock before turning her sweaty face toward him.
Bish slapped the deck on the table. “Cut ‘em.”
“Look, I really want-“
“The quicker you cut, the quicker you get out of here.”
Kalo palmed a small stack from the top of the deck and laid it down on the table.
“Turn ‘em over.”
Kalo flipped the stack over to show a Jack of Diamonds.
Bish clicked his tongue. “That’s gonna be hard to beat.”
“Can’t we do this later?”
“No. Now.” He rested his wrinkled hand over the deck and forced the tips of his yellow fingernails in between two cards. When he raised the stack, he twisted his wrist. “King of Clubs.”
“Okay. You win.” Kalo adjusted her pack and turned to the door.
Bish stood up. “Now hold on there. I won. I’m coming with you.”
Kalo froze. “No.” Slowly she faced him and threw back her hood. Beads of sweat showed on her forehead. “I mean, I like to be alone this time of day.”
“I know. I know. It’s high time you let me in on your little secret.”
“What secret?”
He frowned. “Every evening you leave here like you’re on some mission. Then when you come back, you’re walking on air. All happy and excited like you found a stash of whiskey. I don’t know if that’s it because I never smelled it on your breath, but if it is, I’d sure like a drink or two.”
“It’s not like that, though.”
He tightened the laces on his boots. “It’s like this. I had high card so I win. Now toss me my raincoat.”
Kalo checked the clock and she shrugged. “Suit yourself. If you can’t keep up, it’s your problem.” She lay the raincoat on his table and headed to the door. She pushed it open and slid out into the light rain.
Once outside, Bish adapted to her brisk pace while avoiding the muddy spots in the grass. “What’s this all about anyway?”
Kalo sighed. “I was going to tell you all eventually. I didn’t know how.” She regarded Bish’s slight limp and made a turn toward a pickup truck. She pulled open the driver side door and got behind the wheel. “Get in. I don’t feel like running all the way there tonight.”
The truck engine roared to life before Bish climbed in the passenger side.
Kalo let off the clutch and the rear tires spun in the mud for the first twenty yards. The rubber on the windshield wipers squeaked against the dry glass so she turned them off. When they reached the wet gravel, she said, “How long have we known each other?”
Bish scratched his chin. “Let’s see. You came here about four or five weeks ago.”
The gears ground as she forced the shifter forward. “Thirty-seven days.”
“Okay. If you say thirty-seven days, it’s thirty-seven days. What’s that got to do with where we’re going?”
“I’ve been here for more than three years, Bish. You just don’t remember. None of you started remembering until thirty-seven days ago.”
Bish turned and shoved his back against his door. “Young lady, just what the hell do you mean I don’t remember? I remember when you came in the bunkhouse. In fact, everybody showed up on the same-” He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his grimy gray hair.
Kalo slowed the truck. “None of us showed up. We’ve all been here the whole time. Now just hear me out before you think I’m lying.”
“Right now, I think you’re crazy.”
The rear tires threw gravel into the muddy ditch when they skidded to a stop at the edge of a cornfield. “Come on.” She jumped out and he followed her into the corn, walking gingerly in the row next to her.
She asked, “Have you ever seen the flying machine that comes through here four times a day?”
“Yeah. Who could miss that annoying sucker?”
“It’s bad. It steals your memory.”
Bish stopped. “Now I know you’re crazy.” He turned to leave. “What are you trying to pull here? Machines stealing memories. That’s a load if I ever heard it.”
The clouds darkened behind them and lightning flashed.
Kalo jumped through the corn into his row, blocking his way. “I’m not pulling anything. Why would I lie to you? You got high card. Remember? You think I want to tell you what’s really going on? To shock you like this?” Her eyes watered and her lip quivered. Thunder clapped. She grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. “I told you not to come.”
He shrank into her. “Keep talking.”
“While we walk.” She moved back into the row next to him and pulled on her hood when light rain began to pelt the cornstalks. “For more than three years, I’ve lived here alone. With all of you. None of you talked or laughed. You got up every morning and did your work. Nobody ever complained. You never played cards. You all just sat in your bunkhouses watching Ada on the viewer until she told you it was time for bed. Speaking of that, didn’t you ever wonder why it’s only Ada on the viewer talking? Nobody else is ever on there. She’s always giving numbers that don’t make any sense. Every day, it’s something different. Some days it’s the complete opposite of the day before.”
Bish asked, “Yeah. Suppose you’re right. How could that be? How could we not remember?”
“I told you. The flying machine came here four times a day and made sure you stayed that way.”
“How can a machine steal memories?”
“I don’t know. It always let out a loud noise that took away everything in your heads. Like it had a big straw to suck away your thoughts.”
“Well, how come we remember now?”
“Because about six weeks ago, I figured out how to disable whatever it was doing. It took almost a week for you and the others to come out of your daze and start talking to each other. Ever since then, things have been pretty good.”
Bish reached through the corn and grabbed her arm. “Wait, why doesn’t it have any effect on you?”
“I wish I knew. I guess it did at some point. I know I’ve been here longer than the three years I can remember. I woke up one day and started hearing it instead of it taking my memory. I call it my remembrance day.”
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A distant buzz sounded in the darkening sky behind them. Kalo quickened her pace. “It’s coming. Just a little bit further.”
As they moved forward through the slipper mud, daylight from the opening ahead bled through the rows of corn. After another fifty feet, they stood at the edge of a freshly cut hayfield.
Kalo pointed at two dark sticks laid out in a cross pattern. “See that?”
Bish nodded.
“That’s my marker. It’s gonna stop and hover over it.”
“You’ve got this thing all figured out.”
Behind them, the sound of the propellers shredding their way through the raindrops grew more intense. Kalo slipped off her pack and leaned it against a corn stalk. She pulled out a small metal box with a toggle switch on it. Bish held out his hand and she gave it to him. He held it out of the rain as he turned it this way and that.
“Yep. You’ve got it all figured out.”
She took it from him. “I hope so.” She looked back into the corn. “Here it comes.”
Once the gray plastic drone passed over them, it slowed. As it approached the marker, the noise of the four propellers decreased. Kalo rested her thumb on the switch. A cool breeze hit the sweat on her face and she shook with anticipation. “Almost there.” The drone dipped and continued several yards past the marker before finally hovering near the opposite cornfield. She said, “Huh. That’s weird.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead and a heaviness grew in her stomach. “Maybe the rain is playing tricks with the GPS.”
Bish said, “Maybe so. You’re the expert.”
She flipped the toggle on the controller. The whirring blades spun. “I’m out of range. I need to get closer.” She took a few steps out into the field and the drone dipped. She eased back inside the corn. The drone climbed.
Bish grabbed her arm. “Did it ever do that before?”
“No. Stay here.” She exploded across the wet field. After several long strides, her stomach splashed onto the ground at her marker about thirty yards away from the purring plastic marvel. She pulled up her sleeve and checked her watch before briefly surveyed the surroundings. Nine minutes.
Her stomach caved when the moisture from the grass bled through the front of her raincoat and into her jumpsuit. Goosebumps formed a path to the back of her neck causing the hair to stand up. She tapped her heaving chest wondering if it was the cold water or something else before flicking the switch on the controller. The blades died after a full second and the machine fell with the rain until it touched down on the soaked grass in the opening about twenty yards from the corn. She took a deep breath. “There was a delay, but it still worked.” Back on her feet, she shrugged while waving for Bish to join her.
She grabbed the two sticks and checked her watch again. Eight minutes. On her way to the drone’s new resting place, a pinpoint of red flashed behind her eyes and her thoughts went to the strange happenings. Well, not strange. Just… a little weird. She shook her head and paused.
Bish caught up to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a GPS issue. And a bit of a lag. It has to be the rain. We’re good.”
As they approached the drone, she squinted. “Something’s weird.”
Bish said, “What exactly?”
“It’s not sitting flat on the ground. I hope it didn’t land on a rock.” Another point of red flashed behind her eyes, this time a bit larger. She froze, her eyes now blurry and her legs grew weak.
Bish grabber her elbow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She blinked the blurriness away and steadied herself. “I’m fine.” She set the controller down and dropped the two sticks next to the drone. “Let’s see.” She squatted down and put her right hand under one side of the flying machine. The skies let loose and a drenching rain began. The propellers exploded to life and one of the blades tore into her palm. “Ow!” She jumped back and shook her hand violently sending spatters of blood onto Bish’s face and the front of his raincoat. The drone slammed into her hood. “Run!”
The flying machine rocketed away from Kalo and toward the fleeing Bish, its propellers screaming louder as they accelerated. Bish hit the ground just before the blades shredded the rubber just above his neck. The drone reeled and zipped back toward Kalo. It didn’t appear out of the torrent of water until just a few feet away. She dodged sideways and her feet slid out from under her on the wet grass. Her backside slammed to the ground and for a moment, she lay there struggling to bring air into her paralyzed lungs. She leaned back and the propellers skimmed over her face, sending a blast of air that tickled the hairs in her nostrils and stole the moisture from her eyes. She rolled over into a puddle and curled up, waiting for the deafening blades to return and rip through her raincoat and open the skin on her back.
Lightning flashed and thunder clapped almost immediately. Kalo opened her eyes. The soaked controller lay inches from her face, its toggle still set in the ‘Off’ position. She grabbed it and rolled onto her back aiming it at the rising machine. In a bout of fury, she flipped the switch back and forth until the point of it made an impression in the meat of her palm. After several seconds, the internal mechanism snapped and the toggle moved freely without clicking. The drone now steadied itself about twenty feet above her. With her body now drenched in helpless sweat, she tossed the controller aside and threw off her raincoat. She checked her watch. Still time.
“Grab some rocks.” She thrust her fingers into the mud, jumped to her feet, and ran out from underneath the drone.
Bish threw off his raincoat and joined her with both hands full of rocks and mud.
She said, “We need to knock it out of the sky.” She reared back and launched a stone into the blinding rain, missing the drone by a few feet. Bish’s throw missed a propeller by inches.
Kalo pulled back her hand, but before she could throw, the drone repositioned itself directly over the both of them. Instead of throwing, she bent her legs with rocks scooped in each hand. Bish did the same. They launched four rocks at the same time straight up at the drone.
Kalo said, “Come on.”
The drone hovered directly in the path of all four rocks.
Bish said, “I think that might do it.”
The machine jerked sideways at the last second. The stones lost their momentum and began to fall with the giant drops of rain.
“Crap!” Kalo tugged Bish out from underneath the falling rocks and they landed with a splat in the waterlogged mud. She reared back again, but before she could throw, the flying machine plummeted at them.
“Get down.” Kalo dropped to her right and barrel-rolled several times. She saw Bish running away into the waterfall, the drone hot on his trail. She did a sloppy handspring and then tore across the hayfield after him. With the blades preparing to cut into his back, she tackled him and rolled over on top of him. A loud crack of broken plastic sounded and Kalo felt a terrific pain. She screamed, instinctively pulling the broken blade from the muscle of her left shoulder. The drone listed to one side and lost altitude as it buzzed away.
She tapped Bish on the back. “Stay here.”
Pumping her arms and legs, she covered twenty yards before springing herself into the air and receiving a face wash that felt like a bucket of water hit her. She snared the body of the floundering machine with both hands. Before her feet touched the ground, the propellers exploded to life and the hard plastic body slipped from her slimy grasp. A ruse.
“Crap.”
She wiped her hands on her jumpsuit and jumped again. This time, even with the damaged propeller, the drone had risen beyond her reach. She found another rock and lined it up for another throw. When a bolt of lightning flashed, the glint from the glass on the camera lens attached to the underside of its battery compartment caught her eye and the rock fell with a thud from her weak defeated hand.
Her stomach cramped and her body shook with the familiar sense of abandon and isolation that had disappeared thirty-six days ago. “They found out. I knew it wouldn’t last.”
Her eyes lit up. She yanked Bish off the ground and pointed to the corn. “Run to my backpack.” He turned to run. “Wait.” She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to him. “Tear this up and stuff it in your ears.”
“What?”
“If you don’t hear it, it might not work.” Her body shook as she hugged him, maybe for the last time. “I’ll be right behind you. Now go.”
Bish lumbered through the storm toward the backpack, ripping the handkerchief and shoving the pieces into his ears along the way.
She watched him meld into the raindrops with tears in her eyes. “Please let it work.”
The rain suddenly stopped and it grew quiet. Kalo put the controller in her pocket. Beyond Bish, a cloud of blackbirds flushed from atop the cornstalks and flew over his head toward her. Waves of darkness bubbled inside its thick shadow. It captivated her, stealing her urge to run the other way. Instead, she ran at it. As the somersaulting wheel of black gained speed, a more disturbing darkness settled in the pit of her stomach. An even heavier downpour began. She felt naked like inside the shower at the bunkhouse. She crouched and threw her forearms across her face.
With the black mass now just twenty yards away, she sat. At ten yards, she fell into a ball and covered her face, giving the rest of herself entirely to the impending barrage of feathers, claws, and beaks. A gust of air hit her and she braced for impact. Nothing. Just noise. She opened her eyes to a pitch-dark wind tunnel comprised of flapping wings and deafening calls. And not a drop of rain. For a moment, it stole her breath. When she finally did breathe, she took in not just air, but the chaos of its life and along with it, the fresh feeling of strength and euphoria.
Her midsection tightened as an explosion of light killed the darkness inside her and a wad of energy took hold. She rose and stuck her arms out to each side, absorbing the raw power of the force around her. By the time she closed her eyes, a feeling of invincibility consumed her. She no longer cared about her fate. She whirled and howled with laughter somehow knowing not one wing or beak would touch her. When the rain appeared through the rear stragglers, Kalo slowed her spinning enough to make out a smaller, denser flock at the edge of the corn. She waved at it, an invitation.
The rain plastered her face and after five blinks, moisture returned to her eyes. This approaching black acrobatic mass, with its ebbing and flowing edges and light-sucking core, had gained tremendous ground. Out of its center, a finger of darkness exploded at her and a ball of red flashed behind her eyes. When it hit her midsection, her world exploded into darkness. Then it retreated and she felt empty, hungry. This thief of not just light, but all things good, took something with it – what it had just given her. Her eyes blurred and the dark mass disappeared.
The forgotten drone, still lingering above her, let loose its horrendous greeting across the stormy fields to every citizen within a three-mile radius. With a weak voice, she called out to Bish. She covered her ears and turned toward him. He held his own hands over his ears as he approached the edge of the corn.
“It’s working.” Under the intense call of the drone, she screamed, laughed, and danced around. “We won.” In the middle of her laughter, Bish paused from his dead run and turned right, trudging back to the life that ended thirty-six days earlier.
Kalo called out his name until her voice cracked. She then let loose a heart-wrenching howl in perfect harmony with the drone’s final brays. A large point of red flashed behind her eyes and an unfamiliar inner voice said, “Save yourself.” She started for the nearest stand of corn, but a large group of blackbirds swooped in to block her way. No matter where she turned, feathered darkness materialized and blocked her way. She rammed her shoulder against it, but its steel-like wall of feathers held. To her right, Bish dissolved into the corn and with him conversation, laughter, emotions, and memories from all three hundred fifty-two of them. Gone. Nothing left.
Over the course of several seconds, the birds and the drone vanished beyond the corn. The inner voice said, “Now.” Kalo started toward her backpack. As she glided across the grass, a rush of wind pounded against her back, pushing her faster. Almost there. Several blackbirds pulled up alongside her and squawked, urging her onward. She giggled. “I’m running as fast as I can.” Her feet floated ahead of the feathered tailwind and as she approached the corn, the stalks swayed in their collective breeze. So close.
Ten yards out, the cloud of birds overtook her, taking with them their speed boost. Her feet touched the grass and she fell face first into the hay. She crawled onward until the black wall met her again. She veered both left and right, but the birds cut off both paths. She ran several yards back into the field. Her chest heaved as a loud collection of squawks echoed all around daring her to try again. Thunder rumbled, and an even larger, darker point of red flashed behind her eyes. When her eyes cleared, the black mass roared directly at her.
She bit her lip and hurled the controller into its hungry darkness. Like before, a thin line of black exploded from its center. This time, though, the lines of darkness expanded into the shape of a web. She laughed in its face. She laughed when it clamped over her body. Then she laughed all the way into unconsciousness.