Behind the Last Window

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse through the window in his room. There was a darkness surrounding them, the kind that burrowed deep inside your soul, and snuffed out the light. She felt like a used-up candle, all singed wick and soot.

He was stoic beside her. She tried to take his hand, but he flinched at her touch. She could see the muscles in his jaw working through the tension. They hadn’t spoken since she had awoken in this foreign place.

She heard the rumble of her stomach. It must have been days since she had eaten. Yet she wondered, what kind of food would grow in such a desolate land. Outside, the trees were thin, rotting corpses swaying in the slightest breeze. The air smell putrid. She immediately thought of the dead rat under the stairs at home.

Home.

She had been living on Earth for 28 years. She was going on about her life, grabbing drinks after work, laughing with friends, and dancing. She even danced briefly with him.

Then there was an explosion. Fireworks of light and sound erupted from every direction. She was pushed by a wave of terrified partygoers and fell, hitting her head on the floor. The last words she heard before she blacked out were his, “I’ve got you.”

Now, he said nothing.

She continued to stare out the window. Abandoned buildings loomed in the distance like forlorn shoulders. The sky was as gray as a decaying cemetery, mossy and damp. Green smoked through like a layer of aniline dyes. An emo artist’s canvas.

There was a pale, weak sun. Mostly an orb of strange hues, like a droplet of hope wedged into an abyss of despair. It made no shadows on the ground below.

“Where am I?”

“Discordia. Named after the Goddess of Chaos.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He sucked in a breath and held it.

“Conall, please. Why did you bring me here?”

“Your world was dying. I saved you.”

“And brought me here?” she scoffed. What kind of place is this?”

He finally looked at her. His icy blue eyes were like frozen daggers. “It’s refuge.”

She felt her blood growing hot, flushing her pale skin, burning circles of red onto her cheeks. “This place is garbage.”

He laughed a deep throaty chuckle that seemed transplanted. “I’ve heard it called a lot of things, but never garbage.”

“Why?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Why did you save me?”

“Trust me, that very question is plaguing me right now.”

“You can fix this. Just take me back!”

“I’m sorry Maggie. Your world is gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” Maggie cried.

“It blew up,” he said, his eyes softening a little. “I’m sorry, everything is gone.”

“My mom? My dad? My sister? Nicole?”

“I’m sorry. I have lost many as well.”

“But you stole me.”

“I saved you,” he corrected.

Maggie cried, “To die here . . .”

Conall shook his head. “This world can be saved.”

“Are you blind?” Maggie asked returning her gaze to the window. “Where are all the people?”

“Staying safe inside.”

“And they’re staying safe from?”

“The Jacimarok.”

Maggie’s eyes widened like saucers waiting to house teacups. “What the hell are Jacimarok?”

“Zombie werewolves.”

“I’m dead,” Maggie cried. “Dead . . . dead . . .dead.”

“You’re going to be fine, Maggie.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I am a Jacimarok hunter.”

Maggie slapped her forehead in disbelief. “Of course, you are. Please tell me this is all a dream, and someone slipped something into my drink last night.”

Conall pinched Maggie.

“Ouch! What the hell did you do that for?”

“Guess it’s not a dream,” Conall said with a wink.

“OWWWOOOOOO.”

Maggie jumped startled. “What was that?”

“The howl of the Jacimarok. They’re hunting. Someone must have left the compound.”

The howling evolved to growling.

“Omigod!” Maggie cried. “I think I would have rather exploded than be ripped to shreds by a zombie dog.”

“Wolf,” Conall corrected, grabbing Maggie by the hand. “We must go underground. They can’t smell us there.”

“Everything smells so bad here, how can they smell us?”

“I think that might be you,” Conall said, unapologetically.

“Oooh, when I get out of here,” Maggie threatened.

Conall laughed. “We have to go.”

Maggie took one last look out the window, there was a frenzied movement in the shadows, like thousands of spiderlings exploding from mother spider’s egg sack.

Then there was a thud against the window. Maggie came eye to eye with the Jacimarok’s green luminescent eyes. She tried to scream, but Conall had covered her mouth with his hand and dragged her away from the window.

“There’s no time. We have to go!”

To be continued . . .