Naked in the Hay

"The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room," were the last words Mum told me before the Surce came. I knew the window she was referring to, the last window on the barn, the glassless pane that allowed cold and heat to seep into the wooden space.

Nobody could hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But what would you do if your world went silent? I learnt too quickly what my answer was.

It had been three years since the Surce blew through my town, on the star in the Milky Way. Thousands of towns live on thousands of stars. Not quite sure what mine was called because the Surce wiped all possible sounds from existence, leaving me as a survivor, people who were left behind but were separated. The only sounds I could hear were the whistles and ticks of my own voice and movements.

I know I didn’t lose my hearing, and that the Surce stole sounds. Once I punched the rotted wood of my dilapidated barn’s walls; it splintered against my knuckles. The structure buckled and creaked before stilling again. Deafening silence hummed in its wake.

The Surce destroyed the pattering of raindrops and the swooshing of wind. Now water never tapped against my barn’s roof in a storm. When it leaked through the holes the vibrations swallow the sounds. The wind wouldn’t whistle through the cracks in the foundation.

As I curled on my hay bed, I pulled an old horse blanket up to my neck. All animals vanished with the sounds. But as I gazed out the barn window, the one with missing glass, I still hoped to see any movement of life.

Silence was my curse. After the Surce, remaining life scattered across the continent, so far that I didn’t see life anymore.

I grew berries and vegetables to eat. Fortunately, I was secluded on a farm. Probably other survivors of the Surce didn’t fare as well without farmland.

I went on with my usual routine, running to the water hole, about 2 miles, and scavenging my vegetable garden for breakfast. After that, depending on the weather, I’d sweep the hay about or paint with supplies from local, abandoned shops.

Running through the fields, the grass scratched my calves, so I stopped briefly to itch. The searing of my nails on my sunburned skin warmed and comforted me. Feeling anything tickled my lungs, even pain. I laughed. The sound of my own laughter was swallowed by the thick air.

The Surce hung low, gagging my noise from echoing too long. Heavens forbid I attracted a person, if any were nearby. I never knew what would happen if two survivors of the Surce connected.

The gravel and dirt scraped against my tough feet. I didn’t wear shoes. The sensations of the earth tickled as sweat coated my skin. My legs seared from the excursion. It was my fastest mile yet.

My blonde hair brushed my nose, sticking to my cheeks. My deep breaths expelled with step. As I approached the water hole my skin pebbled up to my neck. I stopped. My rock, the one I sat on daily, was slightly over to the left. Without wind, the water won’t ripple high onto the shore. The only way the rock could shift locations was if someone moved it.

Someone was here. Another survivor? Or had the Surce come to uproot me from my barn, planting me elsewhere. I wasn’t even sure that was a possibility, but I wouldn’t exclude it.

“Hello?” I said, heaving from my sprint. My heart thumped against the inside of my chest, pulsing my entire body. My voice was engulfed by the air, not travelling far enough for someone to hear. “Hello.” I tried again, inching closer to the water hole. The blue sky reflected off the clear surface, making the sunlight waltz over the sparkling water like glass.

I halted. Letting myself sense any shift in my surroundings. Anyone elses step would thump against the soil. Maybe it was an animal. Panic swirled from my chest into my throat. I left my knife in my barn. I gulped.

A twig snapped, although I didn’t hear it, it danced lightly through the gravelly ground.

I whirled to my side, heart beating my entire body. I prepped my fists in front of my face to fight. But the twig snapper wasn’t a threat, no, it was a woman about my age. Her pitch-black hair shun moonlight blue in the day. Her green eyes matched the surrounding grass with specks of gold. Her lips lifted into a snarl, baring her crooked teeth to me. Besides her feared facial expression, she was the most beautiful being I had ever seen. I lowered my fists and straightened my posture. Waving to her, I strode toward her.

She held a knife by her side, ready to strike if I attacked. But my gesture at least relaxed her shoulders down.

“What’s your name?” I said as loudly as I could, scared that the Surce would swallow all my sound.

She glanced at our surroundings, tugging on her tattered grey shirt. “Alice,” she said, like she was unsure what her name was. “My name is Alice Berry.” Her voice barely reached me, so I got closer.

I nodded, sitting on the ground before her. I left a big enough gap between us to not attract the Surce nearby. The Surce separated everything for a reason. Heaven knows what the Surce might do to keep us apart.

“I’m Brynn. Brynn Saunders. This is my farm. Well, the farm the Surce put me on.”

Alice relaxed her muscles, lowering to her knees even closer to me. I could almost feel her warmth radiating through the thick air. “I was just displaced here. The Surce moved me here yesterday evening.”

The Surce can move people. “I’ve been here since the Surce took place,” I said, scooching closer.

“My last place became inhabitable.” Her green eyes glistened even brighter up close. Mud and dust brushed under her cheekbones, defining her narrow face. Beside the sharpness of her features, her body was curved and full, thick with muscles, and her skin was pink and freckled from the sun. A faded snake tattoo wrapped around her right bicep.

“I have a barn. It’s nice enough.” I smiled at her. Glee glittered my stomach, making me want to laugh. “I haven’t seen or heard anything else for three years.”

She grinned back, so hard that I’d imagined that her cheeks would hurt. Folding her hands into her lap, she stared right into my hazel eyes. “Me either.”

I pushed into the earth, standing up. “Want to swim with me? Then we can return to the barn together.” Together. A word I never thought I’d use again. “Together.” I repeated. I liked the way the word felt on my lips.

I didn’t wait for her answer, and I stripped my sweaty clothes, hanging them over the weeping willow branch. Naked, I stood there.

She gazed from my eyes down to my breasts, trailing her gaze to my belly. She chuckled, covering her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot what a body besides my own looked like.” She went silent, lifted from her knees then strolled up before me, keeping her eyes locked on mine. “You're perfect.” Her breath sliced through the air, warm against my lips. She slid her torn tank overhead, and her breasts sprang free.

After a moment of taking in each other’s bodies and scents, I finally didn’t feel alone. I stretched my hand toward hers, brushing my fingers against her knuckles. The contact tingled inside me, down between my legs. I was sure it was just the contact of touching anyone’s skin, but there was something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it was because she was the first person I’d seen in a while, but she was the model of everything wholesome and true.

I ran into the water, diving into the still, clear pool. I emerged, scared to open my eyes and see that Alice had left and that she was a figment of my imagination, the epitome of my dreams. But as I fluttered open my eyes, she was standing there. She followed me in. The water sparkled off her skin like stars in the day as she pushed toward me. The closer she got, the warmer I became. It’s like I was being magnetised to her.

For the next hour, we washed in the water, sweeping away the dust and sweat accumulated from the day and night. “It’s safe to drink,” I told her. Both of us, rehydrating for the day. “I come here daily for a bath and drink.”

“I look forward to accompanying you daily then, Brynn,” Alice said, “Brynn,” she said my name again. “I like the way your name feels on my tongue.” She bit her lower lip, making the place between my legs throb.

The water massaged my skin as I emerged from the liquid with Alice behind me. The air thickened, either from the Surce detecting our sounds or from an impending storm. The dark sky bombarded the sun, shading the dirt and greying the water.

“We should head back to the barn now. I don’t usually dress until I’m completely dry,” I said, dangling my dirty clothes. I washed them yesterday, and I usually dunk them in water every other day.

“Sounds good,” Alice said.

We strolled back to the barn, the rain breaking through the clouds and coating our skin like tears from the sky. But still, there was no thunder, no strum from the rain, just the cold wetness and damp smell of heat and moss. Our slow walk quickly became a sprint for shelter in my old barn. Water broke through the wood, dampening the hay in the corner, but never my bed. I strategically picked that spot.

“This is where I sleep,” I said, laughing as Alice and I finally found the dry and homey feeling of my barn. Now our barn, I guess. “It stays dry in the silent rain.”

“I miss hearing the drops against the world,” she said, never taking her eyes from me. She was still shirtless, cradling her clothes under her arms.

I sighed, swaying my weight into my hip. “I know. Me too.” It was true. I missed the sounds of everything. Even Alice’s voice was strained unless she was up close.

As though she read my mind, she shuffled through the hay before me, leaving only a sliver of space between us. She placed her hands on my hips, sliding them along my skin toward my navel. My heart beat faster with her so close, touching me. I throbbed … everywhere. I wanted her. Her eyes followed the movement of her hands from my hips to my stomach, and back again, forming gradual circles.

“I believe that this is the softest part of a woman,” Alice said, her voice was breathy … warm. “I think I’m right.” She smiled at the sight of me.

I touched two fingers under her chin, lifting it to mine. Her lips parted, inviting me in. And I kissed her. I haven’t kissed anyone in over three years. She twisted her tongue around mine and slid her hands to my lower back, pulling me into her body. We just kissed and kissed and kissed.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed from beyond the barn. My eyes were shut, but the red of the light glared against my closed lids. I dismissed it as lightning, but the light flashed again. And again. And again. I separated from her, opening my eyes.

“Alice,” I said, dragging her to my side and behind me. We were both topless now, staring at another woman by the entrance of the barn. “Who are you?” I asked. Her nose was purely slitted, and her tongue wasped from her mouth like a snake’s.

“Brynn and Alice, you like your new arrangement?” The woman tucked her blouse into her black trousers. “I’m one of the Surce, and you two aren’t putting on a good enough show.” She snapped her fingers and the clothes from our bottom halves disappeared.

I shot Alice a worried look, her brows lifted, and she crossed her arms over her front.

“Hmm,” the lady of the Surce sighed. “Now, it’s a party.” And she disappeared, leaving Alice and I confused, naked in the hay.