Chapter 12 - Cloak

Chapter 12

Cloak

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The truck came to a stop, pulling into an open clearing down some bumpy dirt road. After seven hours through the midwestern backcountry, following a night stop in Columbus, Ohio, we had finally reached our destination, at least almost. Around us the grasses and leaves had taken on the brown and yellow colors of death, interlaced with the white rot of infection. A force was strangling them from beneath the soil to make way for its own ancient ecosystem. It was the same force that broke and displaced the ground in a transformative geology—a bulb. This one was days from sprouting.

Looming in front of us was a tall border, the edge of a fracture. Mystical was the best way I could describe it. It pierced up through the ground, creating a colorful cloak of pinks, greens, purples, oranges, and reds on top of a white canvas. Though it appeared translucent on the outside, the inside was blurred to the muddy browns and greens of the prehistoric forest on the other side. It acted as a barrier meant to keep its internal environment intact.

I opened the map inside my booklet. I traced my finger over to the first pentagonal feature our route connected through. We were on the southern tip of Illinois, just 300 million years away from our destination, the Carboniferous period. The horror stories I had been told about the period shivered through my head.

The truck radio crackled on. It was the first sound we had heard from the silent truck ride.

“We’re going to breach. Brace your vehicles,” Red spoke through it.

Our driver set the vehicle into neutral and pulled an additional lever on the console demarcated with a white sticker. A loud clang sounded outside, and the vehicle lowered to the ground a couple of feet. With it, the vehicle powered off. Our guard flipped off the last remaining light switch, and everything was quiet.

My eyes were peeled on the barrier ahead. It was only a matter of seconds now.

Our guard waved the implant activation dial in the air. It caused me to recoil. He snickered, “Don’t be blaming me for this one now.”

Crrrackkk. The barrier opened with the sound of shredding paper as a hedron deployed by Red’s vehicle exploded against it. Our truck bounced as a wave of energy escaped from the crater in the cloak.

It came in disjointed, random jolts through my body as the timestream messed with the electronics within the guard’s device. I bit my lip. They were spaced out enough to where I couldn’t estimate when each would trigger. Sometimes it was a light tingle, sometimes it was a yanking contraction.

The truck in front of us slowly raised. A simple, untampered function in the form of a metal shovel beneath it was pushing it up against the ground. It swiped against the ground. The truck rolled forward and then sank back down, squeezing the wheels before the strong winds could reverse the progress.

Our guard grabbed another lever on the console. This one activated the same mechanism, and our vehicle lurched forward, its wheels spinning against the strong timestream, then lurching to a stop.

The truck slowly crawled forward towards the hole in the wall. The cloak was slowly healing itself, one pentagonal fragment at a time. We had more than enough time to get through, though. It was an expeditiously slow process.

“Ready for the Carb?” I asked Hannah.

“I’ll take an Allosaurus over a car-sized centipede any day,” she replied.

“Yeah—fair,” I replied, a strong cramp in my chest fluttering my words.

Our vehicle passed through the gate. The broken plains of southern Illinois abruptly changed into sky-touching trees planted in the muddy swamplands of the late Carboniferous.

I could feel the humidity from where I sat. The moisture seeped into the vehicle like an oncoming fog cloud. I leaned my cheek up against the window, observing the new species of plants through the thin layer of condensation. Some trees reached upwards to one hundred feet, opening into sprawling palms or dual-headed grassy nubs.

The driver pushed the first lever back up, and the vehicle roared to a start again, rising from its crouched position. Away from the intermingling timestreams, it could run normally again.

The ground we travelled on was thick mud covered in patches of ferns or horsetails. The traction of our tires was capable of churning through it without struggle.

Vehicle usage within fractures was still highly controversial. In general they became a nuisance closer to the bulb, attracting too much attention. Stealth was of the essence, and most vehicles did not allow for it. For our mission, where bulb destruction wasn’t a necessity, they would prove more effective in moving us along the outskirts.

Something zipped by my window, causing me to flinch back. I followed its trail to the winged creature that had come to rest on a nearby tree.

The creature was larger than a house cat with a sparkling blue body and translucent wings. Meganeura was the name I recalled for the dragonfly creature from my brief reading of the booklet the night before. It was stunning.

I turned to Hannah to gauge her reaction. She was also watching the creature.

It flew off of the tree and zipped off into the woods as our truck passed by it.

“It’s always so peaceful when we first come through,” Hannah spoke.

“Yeah,” I replied. I wasn’t used to her talking so openly.

The truck was running parallel to a wide stream now. It flowed with the murky waters of the swamp. It was the Mississippi, at least what remained of it. On the other side appeared to be a semblance of civilization in the ruins of an old town. A concrete bridge connected the two sides of the river. It had two large pillars connected by suspension cables, a few of which had already snapped.

The vehicles ahead of us started to turn up the bridge but came to a stop.

The driver hopped out of the truck just behind Red’s vehicle, holding a long stick. He stabbed at something. I couldn’t see what it was through the concrete barrier of the side of the bridge until two creatures tried scuttling over it.

The amphibious animals had long, fat bodies with stumpy legs colored in muddy browns, greens, and yellows to match their environment. They splashed down into the river below them.

The driver returned to his vehicle, and the procession carried on down the bridge.

The old town on the other side wasn’t much to see. The buildings had all been draped in a dull gray and brown coating. Not a single light flickered inside any of them. It was dead, likely evacuated months prior to the bulb overtaking it.

Our truck bumped over the cracked and broken road. Plants and roots sprouted out of the asphalt, weathering apart the poorly constructed street.

The trucks in front of us pulled into a flat area surrounded by the stands of an old football stadium. The stadium was relatively intact. A few weeks of refurbishments and it could be good enough to play a game on.

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Our driver put the vehicle in park around midfield. “We’re here,” he said. He turned off the truck and exited the vehicle. His boots splashed as they hit the muddy ground.

Almond was quick to follow him, hopping down and out of the vehicle.

I turned to Hannah as she opened up her door.

I sat still for a moment before following her out. I was procrastinating the inevitable, I supposed to myself. What had been the turmoil of anticipation had turned into the rock of apprehension. I pulled on the door handle. I was blasted with a humid breeze. It filled my nostrils. The air was so rich it almost burned. I stepped out and onto the ground, my white boots already becoming covered in the gunk of the swampy forest.

The passengers of the other trucks, parked parallel to us, were also becoming acquainted with their new surroundings. Each took in a deep breath of oxygen-heavy air the same as I had.

I watched Verona as she exited out of her truck.

Her gaze lifted up for a moment, resting on me. There was a distinct numbness in her face. She blinked twice before sinking her eyes back down.

“You need to talk to her,” Hannah said.

I heard Almond grunt, but he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, maybe,” I muttered.

“Whatever, man,” Hannah answered. “I’m not your relationship coach.”

“That’s not—,” I started before cutting myself off and turning my attention away. I didn’t think of her like that; I couldn’t.

“Attention Troops!” Red shouted from atop a large stump. “This is where we will be stationed tonight. You will take the left side of this stadium, and we will take the right. You may start removing the luggage from the back of your truck. You are not permitted to remove any of your launchers or hedronic weapons. Knives, we will allow. It should be a quiet night. We are still miles from the bulb. If there are any sightings of time mutes, report them via the radio. If you have any other concerns, I would suggest considering their true weight before coming to us about them.”

“Well, that’s four less tool bags to deal with,” Hannah said.

Almond growled this time, about ready to say something, but Hannah walked away to the back of the truck to start unloading.

A humid gust of wind blew over the field. It prompted me to do the same.

—Break—

It took a couple of hours for people to get set up. By now people had organized into their different social groups. There were two main social parties, a group of three and a group of four. One consisted of men and the other of women. Their tents were formed in small circles with each other.

An outlier tent was where Almond had set up. He sat outside sharpening a stick with a rock.

Then there was Hannah and Verona. Their tents sat relatively close to one another but also not with the warmth the other groups had made.

I made a tactical decision to set up at a similar distance to Hannah but opposite Verona. Still, I made sure to keep her tent within line of sight of mine.

It wasn’t long before rain started to pour over the campground. It wasn't heavy rain, but it made the fire process quite difficult.

I didn’t plan on eating that night, but I could hear them bicker about it outside my tent. Each person thought they knew better than the other. It wouldn’t have surprised me if a fight broke out on the first night.

Maybe Almond would keep them in line, I chuckled to myself. I still couldn’t figure out his whole deal. Clearly he joined out of some misplaced devotion to the time officers, actually believing the propaganda advertisements. I’d never met anyone so devoted. Most of us were worn out, but he seemed lively. Confident? The sickness perhaps exemplified some of those traits. I wondered if I acted any differently since the sickness started to incubate in me. Maybe it could help explain the weirdness I felt over Verona.

“You’re not doing it right!” some man yelled. I recognized the voice as the same one from our other two encounters, Phillip. “Here, give me the lighter.”

“Oh shut up, Phillip, I grew up doing this thing,” a woman replied, Jenny.

“Really? Let me show you something,” Phillip responded.

“Oh, fuck off, I’ve had enough. Here’s the damn lighter. I'm finding a gas stove,” she replied.

“Sheesh,” the man said. “Can y’all believe this bitch?”

There was a loud smacking sound. It caused me to perk up and try to peer through the mesh on the side of my tent.

Jenny was storming away from the man back towards the truck. Phillip had one of his burly hands to his face, rubbing his cheek.

“Didn’t even hurt,” he yelled back.

I slunk back down. It could’ve ended up a lot worse.

It continued for some time, the constant chatter. Through the muffle of the rain, it was almost soothing. It kept me distracted as I tried to fall asleep. Distracted was so much better than the alternative. Though, as of late, sleep had been coming a bit easier. I couldn’t recall them, but my dreams over the last week had left a cozy feeling that I could taste in the moments before succumbing to the thoughts that plagued my conscious mind.

Tonight one of those dreams came quickly, and soon a warmness filled my chest as I welcomed it.

—Break—

I awoke to an interruption in the rhythm of the rain. I rubbed my eyes, the blissful dream fading quickly out of my head. I laid awake for a moment, trying to recall what it had been. A different realization overwhelmed it.

Through the noise of the sprinkling raindrops was a peculiar sound. It came in soft clicking.

My heart floated up into my throat.

The almost wooden clinking sound repeated several times a second in an evocative beat. Accompanying it was the moist squelch of mud being pressed under many tiny feet.

I sat up and twisted on my lantern, holding it up to the mesh in my tent. There was nothing I could make out. It was far too dark, and any silhouettes were hindered by the rain.

The clicking sound continued. Louder and louder, it was getting closer.

I picked up a small dagger I had stored with me in my tent.

Sitting as still as possible, in bated breath I waited for whatever was lurking to approach me. The clinking sound had become ubiquitous, drowning out even the rain. It rattled my skull, each clink layering in my mind.

My anticipation was broken when it scratched at the fabric of my tent. It was not only a sound now; I could see its silhouette. At least I could partially see it. The thin legs were no larger than small twigs, but there were many. Each poked around at the unfamiliar material. Attached was a jagged figure with a rounded head. It was large. This was the ‘nightmare bug,’ as other officers had claimed it.

My vision started to blur from the oxygen I had delayed myself. I didn’t dare to take a breath, though. I would die of asphyxiation before I let this thing touch me.

A pair of antennae pushed through the flaps of the tent cover.

I gripped my dagger tighter.

They touched the inner fabric of the tent, and the creature appeared to recoil, backing away from the tent doorway. It pushed itself around my tent and made its escape. The clinking sounds meshed with each other as the creature retreated.

Was it scared?

I waited a moment longer before unzipping the small doorway of my tent. I only made enough room to fit my head through the flap. Soft raindrops hit my face. Pulling the lantern out, I could make out its brown body.

In the sea of mud and tents was a long creature, at least three yards in size. The large plates on its back hit together with the unpleasant clinks. It almost seemed to slither through the campground on its hundreds of stubby legs. It was moving towards the larger pile of tents.

I wasn’t sure if I should’ve shouted a warning. Instead, I muttered a curse under my breath. I didn’t know the ecology or what this creature was capable of.

It didn’t take much of a sound for the creature to recognize my presence, but as I stepped away from the tent opening, a pocket of mud released from beneath my tent.

The squelch froze the creature in its tracks. The millipede creature turned its head back to look at me, its antennae twitching in the air. I wasn’t sure of the vision of the creature, but it seemed to have spotted me. There was no aggressive action from the animal. It made its decision, crawling to the right between mine and Hannah’s tents in a sprint and away from the campground.

I let out a long, relieved breath. What was the saying? They’re more scared of you than you are of it. That was true, at least for now, it seemed.

I crawled back into my tent, wiping away the droplets that freckled my face. I pulled myself back on top of my sleeping bag. I didn’t bother to get in it. It was far too humid, and I was far too sweaty.

The booklet from the briefing lay beside me, and I decided to pick it up. Using my dim lantern to read, I turned the pages to the start of the Carboniferous section.

Flipping through the section showed pages dedicated to different creatures and how they would act in both their natural and sick states. I stopped on page 16, finding a stenciled image of the large millipede-like creature I had just seen. It was an ugly thing, even in drawing form.

Arthropleura was the creature's name. I was thankful to find it to be rather docile, choosing to flee rather than fight, at least prior to it being infected. Still, I read its dietary habits: herbivore, detritivore.