Skeletons (51 page)

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Authors: Al Sarrantonio

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: Skeletons
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And later still, as he put his book aside in the fading light and leaned back to rest his skull against the side of his balloon and close his eyes, before I closed my own eyes to sleep, I looked on him for a moment with almost fondness, knowing that some strong, vital part of him wanted to destroy me, but that some other, stronger, more human part, his mind and intellect, would not let him do that.

That night I slept more soundly than I had since before the madness came, and dreamed again of the brown-skinned girl and the huge tilted ship.

12
 

The following day, as we slid above a drift of thin clouds that made the earth below look as if it were covered with a baby blanket, it occurred to me that Yu
Fon
had not dropped any more pamphlets.

"There is no need," he said.

"Why?"

"There are no more humans in this province. There are no more in all of China and Russia. There are no more in America, Europe, and Australia, too, for that matter."

This thought struck me like a thunderbolt. "The human race is gone?"

He shook his head. "There are a few. The Americans, always an inventive race, have perfected an air-borne machine to find those remaining. Soon . . ."

"Soon it will be the end," I said.

Yu
Fon
looked at me dispassionately.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Where fate brings us," he said cryptically.

Later I asked him, "Yu
Fon
, have you heard of
Kral
Kishkin
?"

"All races have heard of
Kral
Kishkin
, in one form or another. In China we called him
Fo
Yin, the One Who Starts Again."

"You asked me who I am."

"Yes."

"I am
Kral
Kishkin
."

"What do you mean by that?"

He said nothing.

The remainder of the day he was silent, tending to his balloon, reading, arranging a meal for us. The rest of the time he sat lost in thought, his back against the basket of the balloon. When I spoke to him, he put his finger to his lips, begging my silence.

In the late afternoon a thin smile came to his lips. He began suddenly to sing, the gentle Chinese song I had heard on my first night in the balloon.

He smiled at me. "All is clear!" he said. He closed his eyes and sang for the next hour.

As the sun lowered through the haze he studied his charts, made adjustments, dropping a sandbag so that we rose higher.

He called me to his side at the gas jet. "There is something you must learn," he said. "When the balloon lands, you must have your hand on this lever, Keep it light and ready! Try!"

"Why?"

"It is necessary!"

He took my hand. I flinched slightly at his cold, ghostly touch. He placed my hand upon the gas jet's lever, guided me with sharp words while I practiced using it.

"Good!"

He taught me the use of sandbags, how to gauge the wind, how to alter the direction of the balloon and use the sky.

"Again, good!"

He sat back down, leaned his skull against the wall of the basket once more, and sang contentedly, his thin voice trailing over the clouds as night turned upon us.

13
 

The next morning I awoke to find Yu
Fon
looming over me. I lay curled on the floor of the basket. I came awake, suddenly afraid of the depthless skull eyes, the merciless straight grin of the skull jaw.

It was only when the faint, gauzy outline of his human features became evident to me that I beheld him as more than a monster.

"It is time," he said.

I studied his calm features. I looked for the fiery rage that would herald his surrender to his instincts and attempt to turn me. But instead he rose and went to the side of the basket. He stood studying the northern horizon.

I joined him.

"The winds are good!" he said. "You will have little trouble. You are hungry!" He pointed to a meal on his chart table, laid for one.

He put his hand briefly on my shoulder.

Without a word he climbed over the side of the basket and jumped.

In shock I watched his garments flutter out like a parachute, turning him onto his back.

"Why have you done this!" I shouted down.

He held his hands out, retreating toward the beautiful earth, and smiled his calm smile.

"Why!" I shouted.

"When one visits a place," he shouted back faintly, "one always returns home!"

"Don't speak in riddles! Tell me!"

"Fly to your destiny . . . !" he said, in a trailing whisper.

"Yu
Fon
!"

But he was gone, down through the clouds to the patchwork earth, and I was alone, missing him already.

14
 

Yu
Fon
was right; the winds were good. My one mistake in navigation brought me closer to the earth. Rather than regret it, I savored it, studying the trees, watching the reflection of the balloon in sparkling cold lakes. The world was like an unreeling movie beneath me.

As the sun passed its zenith a flock of skeleton gulls appeared, squawking. They studied the balloon. I thought they might attack. I stood ready with a rolled chart to fend them off. But they were only looking for food. When none was offered, they flew off.

It turned out they were a herald of water. Soon I saw the northern horizon spread out in a rocky, ice-flecked coast that spread rapidly toward me.

I studied the approaching coastline.

"Jack!"

There was the wolf and his mate, standing high on a rocky cliff, looking up at the balloon as it drifted over. “Jack!" I called down.

The wolf arched his head back and howled, joined, a moment later, by his mate.

Desperately, I tried to follow Yu
Fon's
instructions for descent. The thin, sandy beach below the cliffs grew close. I dropped, but too slowly. I would drift out over the water before landing.

I glanced back. Jack and his mate were making their way down the cliffs to the beach.

The water approached.

And then, abruptly, the wind, blocked by the rocky cliffs, slackened. I dropped down to a bumpy landing yards from the lapping waves.

I jumped from the basket, carrying the coil of thick tethering rope in my arms, and sought to secure the balloon. Instead, the wind picked up. The balloon bobbed up, leaving me desperately holding the rope taut so that the balloon would not drift away without me.

Jack and Ra-see ran down along the beach toward me. I gave a mighty pull on the rope. The balloon touched beach again.

"Jack! Quickly! Jump in!"

I pointed to the balloon. I bent over, giving Jack my back. I felt his weight spring off me, and then Ra-see followed, vaulting into the balloon.

A sudden gust of wind pulled the balloon up and over the water, and me with it.

I hung on to the tether rope for dear life. The balloon rose, then fell, dipping me into the waves.

Hand over hand, I pulled myself up, grabbed at the basket, and pulled myself up and over the wall.

Immediately I went for the lever on the gas burner. I threw a jet of fire up into the balloon opening.

We rose.

The water receded below. Behind us the land fell back, and then disappeared. We flew onward to the east. The world, suddenly, was made of water.

15
 

It was Jack, standing watch, propped on a chair, his tongue lolling, his fur blowing forward by the wind, who saw the island and the ship first. Ra-see, who had not had an easy journey, lay curled on the softest part of the basket's floor, sleeping. Both she and Jack showed signs of having been in at least one fight, with what sort of beast, probably skeletal, I could only imagine. Neither, though, had been badly hurt. Ra-see's hearty appetite had done much to assure me that there was little wrong with her.

I had pronounced the she-wolf healthy, and was rising to join Jack at the helm when he howled. I stood beside him and studied the horizon. I saw nothing but a line of low haze spreading to the water.

Soon, though, the haze resolved itself and grew, rounding into the coastline of an island.

Jack gave another howl. There, just visible to my straining eyes, was the long form of a beached ship, the one I had seen in my dreams.

“Jack!" I said.

I began our descent. The island spread. It looked a virtual paradise, a deep green expanse of trees edged in white sandy beach. A rocky promontory rose along the far end, showing the view of a high waterfall cutting down one side, reflecting light like a crystal ribbon, dropping to a clear pool of water.

We dropped lower. The ship became clear. Etched on its bow was the word
Arc
. It lay slightly tilted, just as in my dream, and looked as though it had been driven up onto the beach as far as it would go. I could see the ragged markings of a hole in her side.

Soon the water would leave us behind and give us to the beach.

I saw a shaggy figure appear near the ship and point excitedly in our direction. The figure lumbered behind the
Arc
. A moment later it returned and pointed something at us. As I realized it was a rifle, a shot went off.

The balloon gave a little jerk and then dropped.

Suddenly we were losing altitude. More shots were fired. I turned up the gas jet, but it could not keep us up. We drifted over the water.

The balloon faltered and collapsed, and we fell in.

The basket tipped over as we hit. As it filled with water I saw Jack fall into place next to Ra-see. The two wolves began to swim.

I went under. When I rose to the surface, I located the beach, about two hundred yards away.

I kicked and swam.

The two wolves were well ahead of me. As I approached the shoreline one leg, and then the other, cramped up.

Suddenly I was like a stone. Gulping for air, I went under the waves. Unable to kick, I sank.

I attempted to claw my way up. My lungs wanted air. I rose perceptibly, saw light on the water a few feet above me.

I knew I wouldn't make it. I began to slide back down as my lungs prepared to give up.

Then Jack was under me, driving me up. Now my arms came alive again. With Jack pushing at my legs, I clawed for the surface. My lungs were about to burst as I came up to air. I threw water out of my mouth, pulled oxygen in. I felt myself blacking out.

Jack stayed with me. Now my leaden legs found the bottom. The water
shallowed
out.

I staggered to the beach, trying to regain my breath, and collapsed.

Someone was standing over me. I heard a grunt. I tried desperately to come awake, but suddenly fell to unconsciousness.

When I awoke, I had been rolled onto my back. I lay staring up the long barrel of a rifle held by a very angry ape. I turned my head.

There was the outline of the beached ship, and there in front of it was the brown-skinned woman from my dreams.

She took a step toward me. The ape became very disturbed. The girl came quickly forward, calmed the ape, and moved him back.

She stood looking down at me wordlessly, and then knelt down, gazing into my eyes. She looked very young and new, like a rose that had just opened.

"I am
Kral
Kishkin
," I said.

She nodded, reached out a tentative finger, and touched my face.

And suddenly both of us knew everything.

The repulsively desolate, nearly but not quite redeemed existence of Roger Garbage
 
1
 

Flying high.

I've got the world by the bon-
er
:!

In the sky,

I'm no longer a
lon-er
!

People always said that I was a
skel
,

Now I don't have to say, "How can you tell?"

(Chorus) Because we're all
Ba-Ba
Ba-Ba-Ba-Ba
Ba-Ba
BONES!

Repeat the last line, lots of drum snap, maybe get the audience involved, clap their bone hands in time. Great tune, if I do say so myself. Maybe I was cut out to write songs all along, you know? I even sang it for Mr. L, over the sky phone, but he didn't have much to say. I mean, the guy's got a lot of catching up to do to get to rock and roll, right? And with this big human crisis and all, I figure we'll give him time. For now, like I told him, he can leave all the rock and roll to me.

Yeah!

I mean, is this the life, or what? Twenty thousand feet high, a big jumbo jet, fuselage crammed cockpit to tail with all kinds of weird antennas and radio equipment. I told the pilot first day up, though he's one of these Secret Service types who wouldn't laugh if his mother-in-law slipped on a banana peel, what I told him is we need a motto for this plane.

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