Planet Purgatory (6 page)

I used to think my dad was a well-respected mover and shaker. But I eventually came to understand he was nothing more than a wily opportunist who would have voted for Adolf Hitler if it meant being able to have him over for dinner. And that’s what had me worried.

“That guy’s nothing but trouble,” I said. “I had a peek inside his wagon. I’m telling you, Dad, whatever he’s selling, we need to get him the hell away from here.”

My dad’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “You saw his friend?”

“He’s got some kind of monster in there. I only saw its eye, but that was enough. The thing’s evil.”

“So it looks dangerous, then?”

“Dangerous doesn’t do it justice. I might as well have been looking into the eye of the devil.”

I watched as my dad took a squinty-eyed drag of his cigarette. I was losing him.

“You should have seen Rosie. I thought she was having a seizure. Look at her, she’s still spooked.”

My dad nodded, his dark eyes betraying the thoughts I knew were taking shape inside.

“Come on! You can’t seriously be considering that guy’s offer. Giving him one of our own? That’s just wrong!”

“How is it worse than what we’re already dealing with?” I think my dad surprised himself, because he glanced at the trailer behind him, cringing ever so slightly. “Eight people were hit, David,” he said, bringing his voice low. “Eight. And it would have been nine were it not for whatever sorcery is keeping you alive. Have you seen them? They’re zombies. And there’s no bringing them back. I know you don’t want to hear it, but that old man might hold the key to keeping you, me, and Mummy safe.”

“But at what cost? I couldn’t live with myself knowing my survival was bought with someone else’s soul. And I’ll tell you right now, he won’t be content with just one. He’ll want more.”

“How do you know that?”

It was times like this that I wanted to smack him. Instead I stood up and paced in front of the fire.

“What about my plan?” I asked.

“What about it?”

“Don’t you think it would be better if we all had
SYS
guns? We’d be in charge of our own destiny.”

“Oh, come on, son. You can’t possibly think that’s going to work—”

“Why not?”

My dad looked like he was going to answer, but he shook his head instead.

“Look, I know it’s a risk, but it’s the only plan that makes sense. I’d be armed with my own
SYS
gun, plus I’d have Rosie with me. And I’d stick to the roads. I’d have to find them eventually.”

My dad took a contemplative drag of his cigarette. “Okay. Let’s say you do find the
SYS
building? What guarantee do you have they’ll even see you? They’re so secretive. Hell, they never answered any of my questions the day they came to get you. If you want my opinion, you’re more likely to be sent walking than talk to anyone, let alone convince anyone to give you more guns.”

“Yeah, well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

The certainty in my voice must have appealed to something inside him, because he leapt from his seat to peer into my eyes.

“Why? Did someone talk to you?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“The whales.”

You could practically see the words bounce off my dad’s forehead. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This morning I was out in the back, back fields when I felt one reach out to me. It was huge. In fact, I’m certain it was the same one that killed me, and it showed me what I need to do to get out of here.”

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me this has got to do with that Purgatory thing of yours.”

“In fact, it does—”

“For God’s sake, David! This isn’t time for games!”

“It’s not a game! Listen to me, Dad. The whale knows.”

My dad narrowed his eyes. “Okay. I’ll bite. How does it know?”

“Because its an angel.”

“An angel—?”

“They all are. And this big one, he’s like the, the, what do you call it? The archangel. Like Gabriel. That’s his name, isn’t it? And it’s his job to get us out of here. But to do that, I need to find
SYS
, and bring back some guns.”

It was as though all the energy that was keeping my dad standing disappeared, and he toppled backward onto the seat of the picnic table to cradle his face in his hands.

“I know it sounds crazy. Hell, just saying it out loud makes it all sound so stupid. But it makes sense up here,” I said, tapping my temple with my finger. “God’s given me a mission, and the devil’s here to stop me.”

“David, David, David. What’s happening to you? You used to have such a good head on your shoulders—”

“Oh, come on, Dad. Don’t do this to me.”

“Do what?”

He was near tears, and not knowing what else to do, I poured myself some chikka before sitting beside him on the bench.

“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

My dad took out his handkerchief, giving his eyes a wipe before returning it to his pocket. “No, I don’t think you’re crazy. But something’s happened to you. That energy orb was proof of that. I think between the accident, and the aliens, and that drink, your mind has suffered.”

“So you
do
think I’m crazy!”

“I didn’t say that! But I do think you’re having a mental breakdown.”

I closed my eyes, willing the chikka to bring forth its fuzzy calm, but it was broken the moment my dad left the table.

“Come on,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. I knew exactly where he was taking me. There was an empty warehouse on the edge of the settlement, and for some reason, call it a hunch, I knew that’s where they were keeping the people touched by the energy orbs. Opening a side door, my dad turned on a light switch to reveal seven naked men and women, rocking to and fro on a cedar chip strewn floor.

Flies buzzed over mounds of feces and forgotten bowls of food, and me and my dad took refuge in the fresh air of the doorway.

I knew all of them. Not very well, but well enough to recognize the toll the energy orbs had already taken on their bodies. It was too much, and I moved to leave, only for my dad to pull me further inside.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, failing to tug myself free.

“I want you to see what we’re dealing with here. This isn’t a daydream. These are real people. Look at them.”

I purposefully looked at the door.

“Look at them!” he commanded. “They might as well be dead! And it’s only going to happen again. And that’s why I think we need to give this stranger a chance.”

“So we just give him one of our own?” I asked, finally ripping myself from my father’s grasp.

“At least it’s only one!”

“What if it’s you? Or Mummy?”

“Ain’t gonna happen,” answered my dad, with a dismissive shake of his head.

“How do you know?”

“I’m too important. Me and you are the only ones who can grow food around here. There’s no way any of us would be chosen. Especially with some of the dead weight around here.” He smiled at that last part, like we were privy to some private joke. All that did was make me angry.

“So you’re better than them, is that it? You’d rather take your chances with the old man, because in the end, you think you’re too good to be fed to that thing he’s got locked in his wagon!”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!”

“Of course it is! My God, I never knew you were such a coward!”

My dad’s eyes widened. “You take that back!”

“This is exactly like growing up on the farm when you’d schmooze the mayor. It’s got nothing to do with the community. You’re just taking care of yourself. In fact, I bet you’ve already got some poor soul in mind. Who is it? Who’s the bum the great Tag Eno has decided is going to be the sacrificial lamb?”

I knew he was going to hit me. I didn’t even bother to try to get out of the way. He popped me in the cheek just below my eye, sending me staggering.

“I’m sorry, son, but I will not be disrespected. Not by you. Not by anyone. Besides, I already have a plan on who to give to the old man.”

I was waiting for him to tell me who he meant when suddenly I understood. “You’re talking about giving him one of them,” I said, referring to the people rocking on the floor in front of me.

“He didn’t say nothing about it having to be normal people. He just said it had to be one of us.”

It took me a moment to digest what he’d said. On the surface, it made perfect sense. These “zombies” were, in many ways, already dead, their minds having been taken the moment they were touched by those energy orbs. They couldn’t protest being given to that devil any more than someone lying comatose in a hospital. And that’s what made it unacceptable.

“No,” I said.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, it’s unethical. You don’t sacrifice someone simply because they can’t advocate for themselves. That’s just wrong.”

“Dammit, David! Why do you have to make everything so difficult? We’ve got enough people here to survive six invasions. That’s providing his demands remain the same—”

“Oh, my God! You’ve got all this plotted out! No wonder we’re stuck in Purgatory. You’ve got no shame!”

“Enough with the Purgatory crap! This is real life, and I’m not going to let your delusions stop me from saving this town!”

So that was it. The line was drawn. My father and I were about to embark on two very different paths. Heart racing, I forced myself to look at the seven people rocking to and fro.

“Wait a second,” I said. “I thought you said eight people were hit by the energy orbs.”

“That’s right.”

“So where’s the other one?”

“The Scavenger took her.”

My stomach tightened. “Who is it?”

“Laurie.”

I’d never experienced anger like that before. With tears streaming from my eyes, I ran outside, trying to remember where I’d left my gun.

“David! David! Where are you going?”

“Where is he?” I shouted.

“He’s gone.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” My dad looked truly sorry, and he put his hand on my shoulder while I struggled to regain control of my breathing. “He left the night of the attack. I didn’t even know he’d taken her until the following morning. And you were already so injured, I thought I’d spare you the shock.”

I slowly regained my composure and accompanied my dad back to his trailer. I didn’t stay long, just enough to down a shot of chikka, and then I grabbed my gun and Rosie to make the two kilometer trip back to the farm. My dad’s plan had backfired. He’d hoped the direness of our situation along with the shock of seeing the victims of the energy orbs would cause me to see things as he did. Instead, it reinforced what I already knew to be true. That old man was evil, and so were the aliens, and it was up to me to free the people of Harkness from their demonic hold. It wouldn’t be easy, but then, nothing worthwhile was.

I spent the night hunkered down in the back, back fields, even farther than my farthest patch of beets. I wasn’t scared. Perhaps it was the chikka, but I felt completely at ease, and dropping an old blanket on the soil, I lay down while Rosie guarded the periphery. My plan was to speak with the whales, and I wasn’t disappointed. They were waiting for me, and I spent the night in communion with them, these angels of the deep, asking them what I should do. It was glorious, but also frustrating, as I couldn’t quite grasp what they were showing me. That was until the leviathan appeared, and then things were made suddenly clear.

It was as I thought: the old man was the true threat to Harkness. And it was my job to see him gone. They didn’t say how, they just told me there would be a reward waiting for me at the end. I wish I could have understood more, but they existed on a higher level, and there was only so much my poor brain could handle. And so I fell asleep, only to wake several hours later to Rosie barking excitedly at a trio of demons who were watching me from only a few yards away.

Their eyes were that beautiful shiny black, and I sat up to light myself a cigarette.

“I see you,” I said, with a smile.

The demons responded with a string of clicks and whistles.

“I wish I knew what you are. I always get the feeling that you know what’s going on. That somehow you know me. Well, whatever you are, you’ll be happy to know that I’m taking your appearance as a good omen. Me and Rosie have some difficult business to attend to and, well, I’m not even sure I’m coming back.”

I stood up and rolled up my blanket, and with a final wave goodbye, Rosie and I boarded the tractor and made our way back to the farm, where I put some supplies in a knapsack and headed off to Harkness.

The lack of direction from the whales was both disappointing and liberating. I’d hoped to be given a clear path to follow, yet without one I was free to make decisions on my own. And really, that suited me. I was never one for following instructions, just ask my dad. My greatest strength was my intuition, and my intuition was telling me that, for this quest to truly begin, I had to pay a visit to the warehouse on the edge of town.

It sickened me what had happened to the people housed there. And it sickened me even more that my dad planned on using them as payment to the old man. While the whales never explicitly told me to put them out of their misery, I knew they wouldn’t object. And so, letting myself inside the warehouse, I shot each of them in the head before returning outside. It was surprisingly easy. They were free now. No more suffering, no more pain. And most importantly, they couldn’t be used as anyone’s pawns.

I felt really good. Like that warm feeling you get when you know you’ve done something truly noble. But that all disappeared the moment I spied my dad hurrying along, carrying an armful of chikka.

“Hey! Dad! Where are you going with those bottles?”

My dad stopped to give me a big old grin. “I’m bringing them to Bill.”

“So you know his name now, huh?”

“Of course. You think I’m going to let someone stay here and not know his name?”

“Oh, I see. So y
ou’re
letting him stay here, are you?”

“I don’t have time for this,” he said, starting up the road.

“Yeah, well, those are my bottles you got there,” I said, planting myself in his path.

“Stored in my
trailer. Besides, it won’t kill you to give him a few. Lord knows how many you’ve got stashed on the farm.”

“Forget it, Dad! He’s not having them!”

It’s not easy wrestling glass bottles of anything off of someone, especially when they’re as determined as my father. Three of them ended up smashing on the ground, leaving the two of us glaring at each other, a bottle of chikka gripped in either hand.

“Why do you have to be such an ass?” huffed my dad. “Don’t you get it? This isn’t just a gift! It’s a reminder!”

“A reminder of what?”

“A reminder that the Eno family has something no one else does! Something he wants!”

“So you’re using something I not only made, but risked my life growing the beets for, to slither into his good graces?”

“He asked for it by name! He wanted the Eno brew! That right there shows you how important we are. A steady supply of this and there’s no way he’d do anything to you, me, or Mummy!”

I felt like throwing a bottle at his face. “You’re a coward!” I shouted, to which my dad merely shook his head and continued up the road.

I was livid, but I wasn’t going to let emotion get in the way of figuring out what was to come next. And so I made my way to my parents’ trailer, where my mother was busy sweeping in front of the entrance. Her face lit up the instant she saw me, and she motioned for me to sit at the picnic table while she put on the kettle.

“Have you eaten anything?” she asked, bringing a freshly baked loaf of bread to the table.

It didn’t matter what my answer was. I could have said yes and she would still have made me eat something. So I obediently waited while she put together one of her famous chicken sandwiches.

“You naughty boy,” she said, placing the sandwich and a steaming mug of tea in front of me. That was her way of apologizing, and after making me kiss her on the cheek, I started thinking about my options. Did I leave now, or did I wait? The truth was, I was frightened. I’d never left the safety of Harkness, and even with Rosie traveling alongside me, the thought of walking that road filled me with butterflies.

“What’s the matter, Davey? Why aren’t you eating?”

I forced myself to take a bite of my sandwich, washing it down with some tea. “What do you think of this Bill?” I eventually asked.

My mother frowned, scrunching up her face like it was an old rubber mask. “I don’t like him,” she answered.

“Really?”

“Something bad about him. Something nasty. I don’t understand why Daddy is so interested in his business.”

As simple as she appeared, my mother could be surprisingly sharp, especially when it came to assessing character. A person wouldn’t have to say anything, and within a few moments she’d have them figured out, and more often than not, she was right on the money. It was actually unnerving, and it often led me to wonder if she had some sixth sense about her.

Her dislike for the old man made me feel better, and I finished my sandwich in silence, tossing the remaining crusts to Rosie.

It wasn’t much later that my father appeared. He didn’t like me being there, but he sat down anyway, calling for Mummy to put on the kettle.

“So, did Bill like his gift?” I asked.

“What do you care?”

“You know you’re a weasel, right? Because only a weasel would try to ingratiate himself with someone who’s got a monster like that in his wagon.”

“Monster?” repeated my mother. “What monster?”

“He’s exaggerating. You know how his imagination gets.”

“I saw it with my own eyes! He’s got a monster in there. A demon! And not one of those little fellas you see in the trees, but a real demon!”

My dad’s mouth rose in a smirk. “Oh, so it’s a demon, now?”

“You should have seen it, Mummy! The thing was pure evil!”

“Now you’re just making stuff up.” My dad was visibly irritated, and he pulled out a cigarette while my mother brought him a mug for his tea.

“I trust my Davey on this one,” she said. “And even if he is wrong, there’s something about that man I just don’t like.”

“Well, it’s too late now. Everything’s been finalized.”

I stared at my dad in disbelief. “How is that even possible? There wasn’t even a vote!”

“Didn’t need one.”

“Didn’t need one? Since when did we—?”

I couldn’t even get the words out of my mouth when the ground began to shake from the thud of giant footsteps. I glanced up, and sure enough, there was the alien mothership, floating ghostlike against the orangey sky.

There were aliens everywhere, and they lumbered through the settlement, readying their cannons as the people of Harkness scurried to find places to hide.

Why are there so many?

And that’s when I heard it, a howl that made my hair stand on end. It came from the direction of the old man and his wagon. Grabbing my gun, I leapt behind my parents’ trailer, Rosie beside me. Even the aliens seemed surprised, and they turned as one as a figure from Hell came galloping down the road.

It was the demon from the wagon. Like an enormous rabid baboon, it barreled into the closest alien, ripping the armored colossus’s arm from its socket before biting off its head with a savagery I didn’t think was possible. It reveled in its violence, screaming and baring its canines as it tore into victim after victim.

The alien giants were helpless. They tried shooting it with their cannons, but all that did was enrage it further, igniting its emerald eyes. And the noises it made — a constant stream of screeching and braying that crescendoed after every kill. By the time it was finished, my ears were left ringing like after a few rounds of firing my gun.

It was terrifying, and even after the fiend disappeared back up the road, I remained in my hiding place, arms wrapped tightly around Rosie’s neck until enough time had passed that I cautiously stepped out to survey the carnage. The aliens, those seemingly invincible giants from the sky, were dead, their limbs strewn across the settlement like broken branches after a deadly storm.

Others emerged, and it wasn’t long before the air was filled with the hushed tones of folks who didn’t quite believe their eyes. But those whispers were replaced by excited chatter, even clapping, and I soon found myself surrounded by a celebration, with people hooting and hollering like they’d just witnessed their team win a championship ballgame.

Don’t they know what this means?

My lamentation was interrupted by a hand on my shoulder. It was my dad. He could barely contain himself he was so happy.

“I told you Bill would come through!”

“Yeah, but at what cost?”

His face darkened, but only for a moment, and then he went to speak to a pair of men, sending them off in the direction of the warehouse before joining the jubilant throng as they made their way to the old man’s wagon.

For a moment I thought of remaining behind, but a morbid curiosity pushed that aside, and so grabbing my knapsack along with my gun, I followed them, purposefully keeping my distance, in case my dad thought I’d changed my mind.

The old man sat hunched on his wagon bench, the ever-present cigarillo jutting from his mouth. The crowd fanned around the front of the wagon, with my dad taking his place of importance at the old coot’s feet.

“My God, Bill! It worked! Your plan really worked!”

The old man looked down at my dad and smiled. “Told ya. My friend’s highly effective.”

My dad gave an uncomfortable laugh. “Effective’s an understatement. But he’s, uh, he’s locked in there, right? He can’t get out now, can he?”

“Oh, my friend can leave whenever he wants. Ain’t no lock gonna hold him. But don’t you fret. He likes his wagon. And as long you fine people keep yer end of the bargain, there ain’t no reason fer him to leave it.”

You could feel the anxiety ripple through the crowd.

“Heh, heh. Don’t worry, Bill. You’ll be getting what you asked for. In fact, I was just abou—”

My dad’s words were cut short by the shouts of two men sprinting up the road. They were the same ones he’d talked to earlier, and they forced their way through the crowd to whisper something into his ear. I knew exactly what they were telling him, and I’m ashamed to admit I watched with satisfaction as a look of shock washed over my father’s face.

“You were sayin’?” said the old man.

My dad did something kind of funny right then: he plunged both his hands into his pockets and started to walk away, only to spin around and return to the wagon’s foot board. “Uh, it appears we’ve run into a little problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Well, we had someone lined up for you, but it, uh, it appears someone shot him in the head.”

The old man took his cigarillo between his thumb and middle finger and blew a cloud of smoke. “Well, that’s unfortunate. I guess yer going to find a replacement to go with the other one you owe us.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” the old man rumbled. “In exchange for my friend’s services, yer to give us two of yer own.”

A murmur rose from the crowd.

“Now, hold on a second! We agreed on one person, and one person only!”

Suddenly the wagon shifted, and the old man peered down at my dad with a most disturbing smile.

“I don’t think yer in a position to be arguing, Mr. Eno.”

“But you said—”

“You have twenty-four hours. If you don’t give us two of yer own, there’ll be Hell to pay.”

A panic set in, and within seconds the crowd dispersed, leaving only me and my dad. He didn’t see me at first, but when he did, he grabbed me roughly by the arm.

“That was your handiwork, wasn’t it?” he demanded, once we were out of earshot.