High Arkana

2033. Deep within the Puerto Rico Trench, a subduction event violently shakes the Cenozoic crust, slamming it shut. The U.S. rim of the trench dropped thirty feet, shattering land barriers separating freshwater from salt. An Atlantic king tide jet streams onto the Gulf and East Coasts, drowning coastal populations and migrating millions inland.

2035. The first war breaks out over new land boundaries. Many die.

2044. A second War erupts for resources in the remaining lands. Shreveport, Louisiana, becomes the southernmost city able to survive and thrive following the many disasters. Purified water, small engine parts manufacturing, and electronic hardware continue as main exports.

2052. After a viral outbreak, a checkpoint, known as “The Gate,” restricts travel between the southern territories of Lousiana and the northlands of Arkansas.

2063. Present-day. Handyman, Tommy, whose entire family was among those swept away, ambles down 5th Avenue. At sixty, his eyes and ears are still keen and focused. He spots a young girl near the highway, cornered by feral dogs. He fires his own pistol into the oily ground, sparking a flame. As dogs flee, Tommy turns toward her to see if she is okay. Her simple tunic is free of the ever-present grime that permeates Hosanna. With a piercing gaze, she assesses him with curiosity. Tommy realizes she is unafraid and holsters his gun.

“You’re lucky, kid.” He observes, spraying the blaze with a pocket extinguisher.

“Where did you get that.” She points to a pouch on Tommy’s opposite hip. 

“Where’s your family, kid? It’s dangerous out here.”

“So, you’re the one who has it.” The girl looks at Tommy, then to the pouch.

He looks at it blankly. “My daddy gave it to me.”

“It wasn’t his to take,” She says. 

“My daddy was a hero. He didn’t take nothin' he wasn’t given. Wait. What do you…?“

“Because,” She says, softly. “It’s the same as this.” She reveals a bronze, heart-shaped locket. As she draws near, its metal begins to ripple.

“What the?!” Tommy blinks. He feels a sudden movement inside the pouch. His eyes widen. Instead of his father’s gun, the pouch holds the same, rippling liquid metal.

“Daughters of Benjamin! That piece belonged to my daddy, kid!”

“It was never a real gun,” she replies cooly.

How’d she know it was a gun? Where’s she from??

“It was his last gift to me,” he replies, a little irritated.

“Because it was given to you, I cannot control its use.”

“It’s all I have to remember him,” Tommy explains.

“It wants to bring us home, but it needs to be whole,” She appeals.

Tommy is confused, annoyed and uncomfortable at what he hears and sees. “A whole what? Where’s home??” 

The girl steps away as the pieces return to solid. Arms outreached, she gestures northward. “Less than a hundred thousand left in this land you call Hosanna, while millions north can shield you from further sorrow.” 

Tommy's eyes tear with grief. “And who are you? The population expert, come to save us?!” He asks sarcastically. Her response is silence as if listening for a deeper directive. She looks toward the dusking horizon and its twinkling stars of uncharted galaxies.

“It won’t return them,“ She comforts, stepping nearer. “Yet, they will feel closer.” The pouch gurgles again.

“How are you doing this?!” Tommy stammers.

”I’ll show you,” she invites. 

“You mean, how to turn my Daddy’s gun into a puddle??” He says doubtfully.

“It's not a gun, but it’s yours if you can get me there,” she points north.

“You can’t just get anywhere from here,” he says defiantly. "This is mine!"

“Please believe, if only just for now,” she emphasizes with exasperation.

“Who are you?!” He asks, at last. 

Her eyes flash as she steps away. The gun and locket return to their former shapes. She looks southward, pauses then turns to the north. Lifetimes of silence wash over Tommy before her gaze returns. He feels as uneasy as he does safe in her presence. 

“They call me Ellzya,” she introduces herself.

Tommy reflects again. This girl didn’t destroy my family. She couldn't possibly have been there. If I don’t hang around, this kid's mission is gonna go sideways and these metals are gonna give her trouble.

“Where you headed? ” He gently inquires.

“Highest point, five hours.” Ellzya points north again.

“You mean Magazine?” You wanna reach the highest peak in Arkansas in the middle of the…“

“By daybreak, I have to be there.” she clarifies.

Tommy peers at a nearby, familiar, light-polluted area, marking the only road to cross into the next state - The Gate. Vertical spotlights rise skyward, like cell bars, punching shapes in the thick clouds, above.

“See that?” Tommy gestures to the checkpoint. Ellzya scans it. “That’s The Gate. That’s your only exit. What if someone asks questions?”

“Don’t answer questions,” she shrugs as if giving orders, not asking permission. 

“Well, alrighty, then,” Tommy muses, walking her to his car.

“Wear these and no one will notice you.”  Tommy gives Ellzya a pair of Cover-Up sunglasses. She puts them on, climbs in the back and they drive to the checkpoint. After placing the car in the loading queue, they enter the compound’s restaurant. To prevent more metallic rippling, they sit at a long booth, across from each other.

“So, what’s at the top?” Tommy asks. Ellzya peers through her sunglasses. 

“The top,” she says nonchalantly. 

Tommy sighs. “You mean, you don’t know?”

She places her locket on the table, scooting closer. It ripples. His pouch gurgles. 

“Stop that!” Tommy covers it up with a napkin, moving further away. The metals quiet. 

“Nice evening!” Tommy is startled by a stranger approaching their table, holding a drink. 

“I couldn’t help but notice you,” He says.

Ellzya shoots Tommy a withering look.

“Y’all look so familiar. What’s with the glasses, kid?”

“She's got an eye thing,” Tommy says. 

“Sorry to hear. I thought she might be famous,” he speculates. “Or old.” 

Ellzya looks up disgusted.

“Maybe her future is so bright, she needs ‘em 24/7,“ Tommy remarks. 

The man chortles, signaling a robot arm to bring a soda for Ellzya and a beer for Tommy. Ellzya begins to slurp as the stranger raises a toast.

“To brighter futures!” He clinks Tommy’s beer, then holds his glass to Ellzya’s. She pauses, as if questioning the gesture. He speaks louder toward her. “Oh, how rude of me, maybe you can’t see it.” He clinks her glass with his. “Enjoy, kid!”

As Tommy observes, his mind processes the day’s events.

“What brings y’all here?” The man asks.

“She left something last visit,” Tommy offers. 

“My last visit,” Ellzya repeats, chewing a paper straw. 

”Well, if you're here, you must've found it. Which way you goin'?”

“About five hours north," Tommy specifies, as Ellzya slurps her soda.

“North Arkana?” The man says, suddenly interested.

Ellzya pauses drinking to glance at the man, as if judging his very presence.

Can’t just waltz through at this hour, unless you know a Keeper.” He breaks out in a raucous, delayed laugh. “When she gotta go?” 

“Do you know a Keeper?” Tommy asks curtly.

The man’s laugh drops.“I might!” he says, chortling again.

Ellzya raises an eyebrow, tightening on her straw.

An empty silence ensues as Tommy realizes he doesn’t trust the man, yet might need his help.

“And who are you exactly?” Tommy asks. 

Regrouping, the stranger looks directly at Ellzya. “Sometimes I forget I’m not everyone’s boss. Name’s Cesar,” raising his glass again. Tommy straightens, spilling his beer, quickly clinking it to Cesar’s.

“Cesar Luciano, Light Keeper of The Gate? I only heard of you on the radio. Didn’t know you were real.” Cesar smiles wryly.

Ellzya pauses from her drink as Cesar feigns indignation. He smiles again.

“Oh, them radio rumors. Sometimes, even eagles got to land.” Cesar summons the robot arm. A second soda arrives. Ellzya intently slurps.

I know him from somewhere, but where? Tommy questions himself.

As Cesar clears his throat, Ellzya finishes her second drink in record time. She summons the robot arm herself to replace her chewed straw and drinks more slowly. Tommy raises an eyebrow.

“Reckon, she’s happy as a dead pig in sunshine,” Cesar chuckles. “So, when?”

“Tonight,”  Ellzya quips offhand.

Cesar clucks, “Officially, I must remit, it’s a two-week turnaround.” Then, louder, “since the contagion of ’52, more paperwork is needed to send the kids through.”

Too many tragedies to count, Tommy ruminates.

Cesar shakes his head solemnly. “Fifty-two million younger generations lost. My brother and I arrived in Port Arthur after the war for junk duty on rigs, keepin’ trash from gettin’ in the intakes. We'd just cleared the inner nets and were on the outers when we saw it. If we’d been at one of the valves, no tellin!’ We managed to ride out on that little raft, all the way to San Augustine, crossing the border and then heading north. We rescued a man trapped under a branch —Mr. Luciano, Cesar ruminates with a sentimental smile. “Hard to say who saved who. As Shreveport overflowed with refugees, Luciano took us in and offered his home and his name. He taught us to innovate and trade. The Gate was his idea, passed the whole operation to us just before he died. When the Contagion took my brother, I realized, that I had to take The Gate.” Cesar pauses, laying his badge on the table, scratching his chin. “And the rest is grits in the gumbo.” 

“How tragic.” Ellzya briefly softens.

“How much?” Tommy asks. 

“Depends,” Cesar sucks his teeth. “Always a price for the right buyer.”

“What do you suggest?”

“How about what’s under that napkin,” Cesar says, motioning toward the covered locket.

“You can have it later,” Ellzya volunteers.

“Fly-unders are too risky. Fees upfront.”

“I need it to complete my task,” She protests.

“And I need it to help you. Be a shame if another two weeks went by due to clerical errors.”

Ellzya grits her teeth. “Uncle Tommy, please,” she pleads.

As Cesar stands, Tommy’s mind races. Uncle Tommy??? This wasn’t the plan.

“Wait,” Tommy offers. “I’ll give you my other gun.” He feels Ellzya’s disappointment.

“Same as this?” Cesar motions to the napkin. 

Tommy shifts again. “Better.”  

Cesar smiles and sits. “Mr. Luciano used to say, ‘blood is thicker than water and even thicker in the shallows. Here to help, after all, Uncle Tommy? Keep that thing, kid. You’ll go to Arkana tonight.”

Ellzya jumps over the back rest of the booth, heading for the restroom.

“Don’t be long,” Cesar announces, fading into the restaurant.

As they approach the oil-sweated tunnels beneath The Gate, Cesar whispers to Tommy. “For protection, hand it over now." Tommy hesitates, before passing along his pouch. Cesar smugly glances inside.

“If I’m giving you this gun,” Tommy convicts. “Remember my daddy.” 

“My honor,” Cesar assures. Guards approach, flanking Tommy.

“For security,” Cesar adds, “It has to be me to escort her fully through. We'll swing you around another way.” 

“I’ll be waiting,” Tommy tells Ellzya, his eyes in a bistering stare, as they separate. She waves as the door closes, her eyes hidden by the glasses. Tommy is brought to a waiting room where, without surprise, he observes Cesar and Ellzya jump in his car and speed away. 

“Well, alrighty, then,” Tommy says flatly, as they leave him at The Gate. 

Four hours later, northbound on Route 27, Ellzya awakens and climbs into the front seat. She rolls down the window, letting the the air rush in as it escapes the darkness. She is visibly annoyed.

“Why did you give it to his father?” she scolds.

“Because,” Cesar says, “I wanted to be first to place it at the top.”

“You should’ve told me,” She chides. “It might have been lost forever and you could have been killed the first time around."

"Well, I made it through both, cuz I can walk 'tween the bullets," He brags.

"Reckless, going out on a limb like that," she reproaches.

"I had help," Cesar assures. "Even to bury Simon."

"I don't understand how the virus killed your brother. Where is he buried?”

“I'd won't say. I want his body to stay on the planet."

"They won't like it. They'll ask questions."

"Let 'em. What are they going to do with him up there, anyways, throw him in fuel processor?" Cesar jibs. He feels Ellzya's consoling stare.

"Besides," he jokes, shifting in his seat. "I wanted to see the look in your eyes, when it finally came back, except those glasses were ridiculous.”

"I'm sorry he's gone. We could have used his ears," Ellzya contemplates. She brings her locket toward the pouch and stops cold with a gasp. 

“They’re not moving!” She exclaims.

Cesar halts the car. Opening Tommy’s pouch, they find Tommy’s actual gun! 

“Are you telling me…“ Ellzya contorts.

"But, I checked!"

“Uncle Tommy,” she grimaces. “He actually did it.

"Well played,” Cesar concedes.

“If we don’t finish this,” Ellzya suggests ruefully, holding the still locket.

“We’ll finish it,” Cesar assures turning the car around.

“Gonna be awkward goin’ back, with Tommy and all.” 

“Tell him the guards were ‘First Years,” Ellzya concludes. “You’ll still be first. Now, step on it and watch out for reptiles.” 

"It's gonna be awkward," Cesar scrunches again.

Stepping on it, they hasten their return under a blanket of stars, so close, yet so far from High Arkana.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Eric Brooks

World Creator, Music Composer, Motion Story Graphics

www.puppeteeric.com