that might direct them to
their lost friends. With no sign of either Squirrel or Alice , the
party eventually found themselves at a crossroads.
“Which way?” Captain
Banantyne asked, bringing the group to a halt.
Jacob Cain stopped. He looked
from one street to the next. “This way,” he said, then moved away from the
junction and headed further into town.
They reached the end of an
empty street, ready to turn into the next. Taking the lead, Jacob led them past
soulless structures, burnt out hulks of twisted metal, and the dried-out
cadavers of things that had once dreamed.
Elliot said, “The town’s too
quiet. Something’s wrong here.”
“You sense it too?” the old
tracker asked.
“Yeah,” Elliot replied. “I’d
expect it to be quiet, but not lifeless. I haven’t seen a single living thing,
not even a goddamn rat.”
“This town’s been picked
clean.”
“By what?”
Jacob brought them to an abrupt
halt. He didn’t speak or signal, simply stopping in his tracks. Elliot
instantly recognised the act as a warning. He stopped in mid-stride and dropped
to one knee. The rifle slipped from his shoulder. “What is it?” he asked in a
whisper.
Jacob dropped at his side and
then gestured towards two empty buildings. “Over there,” he said.
Elliot saw only a slice of
darkness, caught between the two buildings. “I don’t see a thing.”
“Wait,” Jacob said. The
shadows shifted slightly. “There, did you see it?”
Elliot’s trained eye spotted
movement from within the darkness. He waited a moment and was rewarded with
another brief movement. Captain Banantyne and Lieutenant Kate Hutson drew up
from the rear.
“What’s going on here?”
Captain Banantyne asked, his voice echoing noisily.
“Quiet!” the older tracker
warned in a hiss.
“Why have we stopped?”
Banantyne asked.
Ignoring Banantyne’s
question, Jacob turned to Elliot. “Wait here. I’m gonna check it out.”
“Check what out?” the captain
queried.
Jacob moved away from the small
group and headed towards the darkness. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he passed an
abandoned vehicle. He had a second to think about how well the vehicle had been
maintained before the intimidating emptiness drew his attention. He stepped
onto the lawn. The turf under his feet was hard and brittle. He crossed this
forgotten sward, looking about him, examining the broken windows. He focused on
the open doorway.
Even in the poor light, he
could see the remnants of some family’s forgotten belongings. An assortment of
damaged items lay scattered about in the hallway. An old chair with only three
legs was propped up against a wall. Broken ornaments lay scattered on the
floor, providing a sharp carpet of porcelain. But it was one item in particular
that stopped him in his tracks. Hanging from the wall, directly at the
entrance, was a photograph in a crooked picture-frame. Although he could not
make out the photo’s finer details, he could just about see that it was of
three people, all smiling into camera. The person in the centre had the
suggestion of long hair, and Jacob guessed that she was the mother of the
household. Flanking her on either side were two smaller faces, each possessing
a head of short hair: two young boys; twins maybe.
He stood there for a moment,
transfixed by the photograph. Memories flashed to mind, and next he was
standing on his own lawn, looking up at the door of his new home. He felt the
late afternoon sun on his back. He twisted his head and looked upon the
abandoned Buick. Rather than seeing the strange vehicle parked awkwardly, he
found instead a newly washed Sedan .
A feeling stirred in his
stomach. Warmth. He remembered – felt – the enjoyment of having arrived home
from school after another long day of teaching. The excitement he felt came
from the anticipation of seeing his wife, Hannah. They hadn’t been married long
when a position for head science teacher had arisen at Pittsburgh Elementary.
As usual,
their lost friends. With no sign of either Squirrel or Alice , the
party eventually found themselves at a crossroads.
“Which way?” Captain
Banantyne asked, bringing the group to a halt.
Jacob Cain stopped. He looked
from one street to the next. “This way,” he said, then moved away from the
junction and headed further into town.
They reached the end of an
empty street, ready to turn into the next. Taking the lead, Jacob led them past
soulless structures, burnt out hulks of twisted metal, and the dried-out
cadavers of things that had once dreamed.
Elliot said, “The town’s too
quiet. Something’s wrong here.”
“You sense it too?” the old
tracker asked.
“Yeah,” Elliot replied. “I’d
expect it to be quiet, but not lifeless. I haven’t seen a single living thing,
not even a goddamn rat.”
“This town’s been picked
clean.”
“By what?”
Jacob brought them to an abrupt
halt. He didn’t speak or signal, simply stopping in his tracks. Elliot
instantly recognised the act as a warning. He stopped in mid-stride and dropped
to one knee. The rifle slipped from his shoulder. “What is it?” he asked in a
whisper.
Jacob dropped at his side and
then gestured towards two empty buildings. “Over there,” he said.
Elliot saw only a slice of
darkness, caught between the two buildings. “I don’t see a thing.”
“Wait,” Jacob said. The
shadows shifted slightly. “There, did you see it?”
Elliot’s trained eye spotted
movement from within the darkness. He waited a moment and was rewarded with
another brief movement. Captain Banantyne and Lieutenant Kate Hutson drew up
from the rear.
“What’s going on here?”
Captain Banantyne asked, his voice echoing noisily.
“Quiet!” the older tracker
warned in a hiss.
“Why have we stopped?”
Banantyne asked.
Ignoring Banantyne’s
question, Jacob turned to Elliot. “Wait here. I’m gonna check it out.”
“Check what out?” the captain
queried.
Jacob moved away from the small
group and headed towards the darkness. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he passed an
abandoned vehicle. He had a second to think about how well the vehicle had been
maintained before the intimidating emptiness drew his attention. He stepped
onto the lawn. The turf under his feet was hard and brittle. He crossed this
forgotten sward, looking about him, examining the broken windows. He focused on
the open doorway.
Even in the poor light, he
could see the remnants of some family’s forgotten belongings. An assortment of
damaged items lay scattered about in the hallway. An old chair with only three
legs was propped up against a wall. Broken ornaments lay scattered on the
floor, providing a sharp carpet of porcelain. But it was one item in particular
that stopped him in his tracks. Hanging from the wall, directly at the
entrance, was a photograph in a crooked picture-frame. Although he could not
make out the photo’s finer details, he could just about see that it was of
three people, all smiling into camera. The person in the centre had the
suggestion of long hair, and Jacob guessed that she was the mother of the
household. Flanking her on either side were two smaller faces, each possessing
a head of short hair: two young boys; twins maybe.
He stood there for a moment,
transfixed by the photograph. Memories flashed to mind, and next he was
standing on his own lawn, looking up at the door of his new home. He felt the
late afternoon sun on his back. He twisted his head and looked upon the
abandoned Buick. Rather than seeing the strange vehicle parked awkwardly, he
found instead a newly washed Sedan .
A feeling stirred in his
stomach. Warmth. He remembered – felt – the enjoyment of having arrived home
from school after another long day of teaching. The excitement he felt came
from the anticipation of seeing his wife, Hannah. They hadn’t been married long
when a position for head science teacher had arisen at Pittsburgh Elementary.
As usual,
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