A Soft Barren Aftershock by F. Paul Wilson
“Levi?”
“Would you believe they came back again tonight?”
Jack felt his heart rate kick into high gear. “They took the bait?”
“Hook, line, and sinkhole. Figured since it was your idea, you oughta come see. We got the car. Wanna?”
“Be right there.”
He pulled on jeans and a rugby shirt, stepped into his Vans, then unlatched the screen and slipped into the night. Levi led him around the corner to where Elvin and Saree were waiting in the buggy, Saree behind the wheel—no, wrench. Her white hair looked silver in the moonlight. They hopped in and Saree took off without a word. At least she couldn’t stare at him.
The Pines were practically in Jack’s backyard, but she entered along a path he didn’t know. She made seemingly random turns through the trees but seemed to know where she was going. Finally she stopped in a small clearing.
“Gotta walk from here,” Levi said, “else they’ll hear us.”
The four of them hopped out and this time Saree led the way, single file, down a deer path.
“They fell for it, Jack,” Levi said from behind him. “Just like you said. I never would’ve thought of that in a million years. You got a twisted mind. I like that.”
Jack enjoyed the praise, but thought the solution had been obvious. Whoever had dumped those barrels didn’t know the Pines, otherwise he wouldn’t have needed to post reflectors. So Jack’s idea had been to move the reflectors off the path to the dumping ground and onto a path that led to the cripple instead.
He heard angry voices before he saw anyone. Saree slowed her pace and gradually a glow began to grow through the trunks. They crouched as they neared the treeline.
Jack peeked through the underbrush and saw a flatbed truck angled nose down into the cripple. Its headlights were still on and its motor running. A blue tarp covered whatever was stacked in its bed. Its front end sat bumper deep in the water and its rear wheels had dug ruts in the soil from trying to reverse its way out.
One man was cursing and swearing as he stood in the two-foot-deep water and pushed against the front grille while another gunned the engine and spun the tires.
“Now that we’ve got them,” Jack said, “what do we do with them? Call the sheriff?”
Levi shook his head. “No way. We bring in some grownups. They’ll take care of them.”
“Take care of them how?”
“Piney justice.”
Piney justice . . . Jack had heard about that. He was going to say something, but right then the one in the water gave up pushing and slammed a hand on the hood.
“Ain’t gonna happen, Tony!”
Tony—dark, heavyset with a thick mustache—jumped out and began kicking the water in a rage.
“Save it, man,” said the other guy as he splashed past him, heading toward the rim of the cripple. “We’re gonna have to offload this stuff to get outa here.”
“How’d this happen, Sammy? We marked the trail!”
“Must’ve made a wrong turn. Or . . .” He stopped and looked around. “Or somebody moved the markers.”
Tony stared at him. “Who?”
“Wise-ass locals, my guess. Probably out there right now having a good laugh.”
Uh-oh, Jack thought. Time to leave.
“Yeah?” Tony reached into the truck cab and pulled out a revolver. “Well, laugh at this!”
He began firing wildly. One of the slugs zipped through the brush between Jack and Saree, narrowly missing them. Jack froze in terrified shock while Saree let out a shrill yelp of surprise.
“There!” Sammy shouted, pointing their way.
Levi yanked on Jack’s arm. “Run!”
Jack didn’t need to be told twice—or even once. The next half minute became a riot of crouched running, snapping brush and branches, darkness ahead, shouting behind, and then a high-pitched scream that brought everything to an abrupt, panting halt.
“Saree?” Levi said, looking back. “I thought she was—aw, man, they got Saree!” He turned to Jack. “Go with El for help!”
“You’re staying?”
He nodded. “Can’t leave her.”
Jack wavered. Why had he come here? He wanted to be home. Then Saree screamed again.
“I’ll stay with you.”
“No way. You go—”
“Elvin doesn’t need help. Saree does.”
Elvin was already at the car, starting it up. He wasn’t waiting. That settled it.
“I don’t get it,” Levi said as he turned and started back toward the cripple.
“What’s there to get?”
“You don’t owe her. She’s not kin.”
Jack couldn’t see what that had to do with anything. He wished he’d stayed in bed, but he was here now.
“We came together, we leave together.”
Levi didn’t reply. They were almost back to the cripple.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” a voice was sing-songing. “We got your ugly girlfriend.”
Jack peeked through the brush. The moonlight and backwash from the headlights revealed Tony standing on the rim of the cripple by the rear of the truck. He had his gun in one hand and a fistful of Saree’s hair in the other. She looked terrified.
Sammy, standing a few feet to his right, shouted, “The rest of you get out here now. We ain’t gonna hurt you. Just put you to work. You got us into this mess, so you’re gonna get us out.”
Jack saw three options. Help was on the way, so until it arrived they either could do nothing, find ways to distract them, or show themselves and do whatever they wanted.
“Get out here or this could get ugly,” Tony said, twisting Saree’s hair and making her wince. “You don’t wanna see how ugly.”
Jack winced too, and crossed doing nothing off the list. He decided on distraction. He could always show himself if that didn’t work.
“Stay here,” he whispered. “Gonna try something.”
“Wait—” Levi grabbed for his arm but Jack pulled out of reach.
He moved counterclockwise along the treeline, feeling around the ground until he found a fist-sized hunk of shale.
Perfect.
He backed up, cocked his arm, and let fly toward the truck. The rock bounced off the tarp with a gonging sound, then splashed in the water.
“Son of a bitch!” Sammy yelled, flinching.
“You guys deaf?” Tony shouted. “Remember what I said about things getting ugly?”
Oh no. Jack’s gut knotted as he saw Tony yank Saree backward. She lost her balance and fell into the water. Tony stayed with her and held her head under the surface as her arms and legs thrashed and splashed. It was only a couple of feet deep, but plenty enough to drown her.
“She stays under till you come out!” Tony yelled.
Jack couldn’t take it. Only option three remained.
“Okay! Okay!”
His bladder ached to empty as he jumped out of the bushes with his hands raised.
To his left Levi also stepped out, hands high, saying, “Let her up!”
As Sammy started toward them, Tony pointed the gun their way and grinned. “When I’m damn good and ready. You kids—aah!” He dropped the gun and released Saree as he grabbed his right hand with his left. “She broke my finger!”
Saree sat up, choking and gasping and crying. Jack had seen one of her thrashing arms come near Tony’s hand but no way it touched him. She lurched to her feet and staggered away toward dry ground.
Tony started after her. “You little—my gun!” He turned and bent, feeling around underwater.
As Sammy turned to look at his buddy, Jack took off toward Saree. He grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her up the bank of the cripple.
Sammy started toward them. “Hey–!”
Suddenly he tripped and fell face first into the water. But instead of rebounding to his feet, he stayed down and began kicking and thrashing as Saree had. He couldn’t seem to get up.
Tony finally noticed.
He started toward Sammy but tripped himself. He went down and stayed down too. Were they stuck in the mud? No, their arms and legs were free. It almost looked like they were being held down. But –
Jack saw Levi on his knees, white-faced, eyes focused on the men in the cripple. As Jack headed for him, Saree grabbed his arm.
“Leave Levi be.”
Jack pulled free. As he neared he could see the boy’s lips pulled back in a snarl. His face and hair dripped sweat, his shirt was soaked, and air hissed between his clenched teeth like he was bench pressing twice his own weight.
“Levi . . .?”
He glanced at Jack and just then the two men in the cripple got their heads back above water. But not for long. Before they could draw a full breath they plunged their faces back beneath the surface.
And then everything seemed to happen at once. Elvin roared out of the trees in the buggy followed by a pickup full of rough-clothed men with shotguns, Levi let out a breath and slumped forward onto his hands, the two men in the cripple got their heads out of water and sucked air.
When they caught their breath and looked around they found themselves staring into the headlights of the buggy and the pickup, and down the muzzles of half a dozen shotguns. One of the Piney men, tall with a gray beard and features that looked like they’d been taken apart and put back together wrong, had lifted the tarp and was looking at the barrels hidden beneath.
“Not good,” he said, shaking his head. “Not good ay-tall.”
“You don’t wanna mess with us,” Tony said, still panting. “We’re connected, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m right sure of that,” the old Piney said. “And we’ll want to know who to.” He swiveled and his gaze fell on Jack. “Who’s this un?”
“Friend of ours,” Levi said, rising to his feet. He’d caught his breath. “He set the trap.”
“Well, we’re right grateful for that, but he ain’t one of us. Take him back wherever he came from.”
“What about them?” Jack said, pointing to Tony and Sammy.
“You forget about them. We’re all gonna have us a nice chat, then we’ll send ‘em home.”
“But—”
Levi grabbed his arm and pulled him away. “No questions. Let’s go.”
Elvin and Saree were already in the buggy. As soon as Jack and Levi settled on the rear couch, Elvin put it in gear and they roared off.
“What happened back there?” Jack said.
He was feeling weak and shaky. That guy had almost drowned Saree, and he’d never been shot at before—never dreamed it would ever happen and never wanted it to happen again. Ever.
Levi shook his head. “Nothing. And don’t go yakking about it.”
“You kidding? Tell my folks I snuck out tonight to see some toxic dumpers we trapped and wound up getting shot at? Yeah, right. Soon as I get home I’m gonna run into their bedroom and blab all about it.”
Levi laughed. “Okay.”
Of course he’d tell Weezy. She’d eat it up.
But Jack hadn’t been talking about the dumpers.
“I meant you. What did you do to those guys?”
The smiled vanished. “Nothing.”
“But I saw—”
He stared straight ahead. “You saw a couple of guys slipping around on a mucky cripple bottom and getting stuck. That’s all.”
He was sure it had been more than that. But what exactly?
Saree turned to face him. “Yeah, that’s all it was, Jack. But what about you? What’s your talent? Is it being able to hide? Is that why I can’t see you?”
What was she talking about?
“I don’t have any talent.”
“Maybe you just don’t know about it yet. You’re hiding something, but that’s okay. You came back for me. I never expected that. I still can’t see you, but I like you.”
Jack had no idea how to respond to that, so he didn’t.
They dropped him off about a block from his house. As they raced off he saw their bumper sticker flash in the moonlight.
Piney Power.
He had an idea why those kids liked the sound of it.
4
“I can’t believe all that happened without me,” Weezy said as they entered Jack’s house though the kitchen.
He’d waited till after school to tell her about it.
“Believe me, you were better off at home.” He shuddered at a vision of that Tony guy holding Weezy’s head underwater instead of Saree’s. “While it was happening, I wanted to be anywhere but there.”
As they stepped into the front room where his folks were watching the 6:30 news, a TV reporter said, “The two bodies found inside those barrels of toxic waste have been identified.”
Jack stiffened as he recognized the mug shots on the screen.
“Anthony Lapomarda and Santo ‘Sammy’ Carlopoli have long rap sheets. Their bodies were found outside a South Philly body shop this morning along with two dozen barrels of toxic waste. More waste was found inside the body shop, along with a number of stolen cars. The suspected chop shop—”
He nudged Weezy and whispered, “That’s them!”
The old Piney’s parting words came back: We’re all gonna have us a nice chat, then we’ll send ‘em home.
He hadn’t mentioned how they’d be sent home. He glanced at Weezy and found her staring back with wide, dark eyes.
“Piney justice,” he said, feeling a chill.
His father looked up. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Dad pointed to the TV. “That’s why we live out here. To get away from scum like that. You don’t have to worry about running into any of their sort in these parts.”
“I guess not, Dad.”
At least not anymore.
THE DEAD WORLD
I
As Emperor of Pellucidar, I’ve always felt it good policy to make occasional visits to the heads of state of the various Federated Kingdoms that make up the Empire. I find myself visiting Thuria more than the others. I hadn’t realized this until my wife, the beautiful Dian, mentioned it.
I was surprised. Why would I be drawn to a kingdom set in the Land of Awful Shadow?
On reflection, I realized I was drawn there because of the shadow.
For those new to Pellucidar, let me offer a quick tutorial.
Earth is hollow. Five hundred miles below the crust exists a separate world, seven thousand miles in diameter, with a miniature sun suspended in the center. Because its sun shines ceaselessly, Pellucidar has no day-night cycle, and the concept of time is, therefore, elusive and ephemeral.
It’s inhabited by refugees from ancient times, from the Jurassic through the Pleistocene epochs, including primitive Homo sapiens.
Pellucidar also has a moon—a small, strange sphere that hangs stationary about a mile above the surface. It has a number of names. I’ve heard it called the Pendant Moon, but most often it’s referred to as the Dead World. Since its orbit is, for want of a better term, geosynchronous or geostationary, the land below exists in the perpetual twilight of its shadow.
Since I’m from the surface world and grew up with a day-night cycle, perhaps my body craves periodic sojourns in the twilit Land of Awful Shadow. Perhaps it sees that Shadow as anything but Awful.
On this particular trip, after crossing the Sojar Az on my clipper ship, the John Tyler, I took lunch with Goork, the King of Thuria, in his palace. Thurians are hut dwellers, so their idea of a palace is a single-story structure made of stone block. These folk are unique among the humans of Pellucidar. Since they live in shadow, their skin is pale; they carry heavy traces of Neanderthal ancestors, with a squat physique that is more muscular and more hirsute than the average human here. Goork and I did not get off to a good start when first we met, but we’ve become fast friends since.
As we ate I found myself, as usual, gazing up at the Dead World slowly rotating only a mile above. I’ve never understood why th
We had barely begun our meal when a young Thurian came charging up, shouting, “Father! Father!”
I recognized the lad as Koort, younger brother to Goork’s other son, Kolk. He looked frightened and angry.
Goork shot to his feet. “What is the meaning of this? What is so important that you interrupt my meal with the Emperor.”
“My lidi!” he cried, panting. “Someone killed it!”
“What? Who?”
“A giant stone fell from the sky and killed it!”
Goork turned to me. “Are we being attacked? Could a Mahar have dropped it?”
I doubted that. I had long ago driven those winged reptiles out of their nearby cities and into the north regions.
“Let’s go look at this stone.”
II
We came upon the dead lidi about two miles deep in the Thurian forest. I use the term loosely. Forests in the Land of Awful Shadow are unlike those anywhere else in Pellucidar. The endless sunshine makes for thick, lush vegetation out there. In here, in the eternal twilight, the greenery tends to be pale and thin. Not pretty, but it makes for easier travel on foot.
The lidi are the Pellucidar equivalent of a diplodocus from the surface’s Jurassic period. There’s a polar entrance to the Inner World, and the theory is that fauna from various epochs wandered through over millions of years and never left. Thurians use the huge saurian quadrupeds as mounts and place a high value on one that’s trainable.
“There!” Koort cried, pointing. “I was letting it graze when that stone crashed through the trees and crushed its head. Someone owes me a lidi!”
As I stepped closer to examine the “stone,” I realized it was nothing of the sort. It measured perhaps four feet across and was perfectly spherical with a smooth, gray, almost polished surface. It looked like steel or some sort of alloy.