After Tomorrow: A CHBB Anthology Read online

  AFTER TOMORROW

  EDITED BY SAMANTHA KETTEMAN

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, including photocopying, recording, or transmitted by any means without written consent of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Characters, establishments, names, companies, organizations and events were created by the author. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events, companies or organizations is coincidental.

  Published by Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly Publishing

  Text Copyright 2014 held by CHBB Publishing and the Individual Authors

  Edited by Samantha Ketteman

  Cover by Rue Volley

  Contents

  Warp and Weave by C.L. McCollum

  The Oryx and the Undead by Kelly Matsuura

  The Cure by Nicole Daffurn

  Landers by Samantha Ketteman

  Piano Man by Catherine Stovall

  The End by Eada Janes

  Escaping Rapture by Jess Watkins

  Darkness by H.J. Daly

  Dead World by Toni Lesatz

  Red Scorpion by Yasmin Fazli

  Looking In by Cathy Daff Ricketts

  Terminus by Scott Venus

  Falling Through Time by Emma Michaels & Michael Cross

  Population Zero by Nicky Louise

  Last of His Kind by Sherwin Matthews

  Insurrection by Madison Stewart

  Behind the Mask by Nicky Louise

  Forgotten by Demetria Motsinger

  No Tomorrow by Catherine Stovall

  Dakkar, A Tales of the Orb Prequel by H. L. Houghton

  Delilah’s Birth by K.C. Finn

  Double Exposure by Andrea L. Staum

  End of Days by Jeff Motsinger

  The Mirror by Cathy Daff Ricketts

  About The Contributors

  Warp and Weave

  C.L. McCollum

  I am outside the Domes when the sirens sound for another Time Dilation drill. Only, it is clear that this is no drill. I wonder if there have ever been drills or if the world has slowly been warping itself to pieces for years while I sat in my little cubby in the dark and waited for the sirens to stop.

  I was taught that the first Time Dilation destroyed the world, or at least the world as it was known then. Some 100 years ago, a single worldwide Dilation shook the globe, bringing some civilizations back to the Dark Ages and sending others years ahead of their neighbors. Still more are simply gone, their cities drowned in prehistoric forests and jungles, and their people lost and mostly forgotten.

  I have always wondered about those lost to the Dilation. Wondered if and how they died, or if they somehow changed. I was taught the Time Dilations never affect humans. Everyone was taught that in the Domes.

  That doesn’t explain why anyone caught outside during a drill is immediately exiled from their residence within the Domes. If people can’t be affected, then why can’t they come home? I used to ask it over and over again, and my brother scolded me for asking.

  Until he was late during a drill and couldn’t come back to scold me anymore.

  I was looking for him tonight, checking in at the residence some wealthy citizen insisted be built for the exiles, so that maybe, just maybe, they might survive outside the Domes. I’ve gone to the shelter before. My brother was the one who took me there then, to see our uncle after he’d been exiled in his turn, following after our father. And our mother.

  I’d never stopped asking why we couldn’t see them anymore. Why my brother stopped taking me on visitation days. Why he stopped going himself, until that night he couldn’t come home again.

  Now, I read the panic on the transport driver’s face and the hate he turns on me when he thinks I’m not looking, and I finally understand the reason my brother scolded me. I wonder if the driver ever asked “Why?”

  The sirens grow louder outside the transport, and the other passengers start to shake and huddle together, fear making them wild. The Time Dilation is close, and the effects are already apparent outside the transport’s tinted windows. I watch as a sidewalk across the street begins to crumble and sprout flowers. I don’t know if someone in the Domes knew the Time Dilation was coming, but I have to suspect they did. After all, they’ve clearly been lying about the drills; what’s one more lie by omission? I wonder what else they’ve lied about.

  The transport starts to shudder, and I guess at another lie. The transports are supposed to be made of the same material as the Domes and the exiles’ shelter to protect us from the effects of the Dilations, some metallic marvel created to shield humanity. We were taught it was created by the same scientist who supposedly predicted the Dilations and tried to warn the masses of the world. I’ve met him once with the other children in our class; an ancient, ragged man who ranted and raged more than the drunks on the lower levels of the Dome. I always wondered about him, too. He is far older than anyone else I’ve ever heard of, kept alive by some science no other citizen is allowed to use. The Dome material and technology is far beyond that of the rest of the world, as well. It was beyond them when the first Time Dilation hit. If it even was the first. If humans really are immune.

  Clearly the transport isn't as immune as we are, I decide, watching as cracks begin to appear in the windows, metal curling in at the edges. My choices are to wait and see if the material holds, or risk the ever-changing landscape and unknown creatures outside. The choice is easy. I’ve never forgotten the film they showed in class of a commercial transport undergoing the effects of a distant past Dilation. The modern railcar shifted to a long out of date electric monorail, metal writhing and shrieking until that turned to some sort of coal engine, then to one run on steam, and then finally to a hunk of barely recognizable metal alloy.

  The instructor never did answer when I asked if anyone had been aboard that railcar.

  All I know for sure is that I do not want to be inside this transport if it begins to shift. The other passengers are starting to panic now, shouting at the driver to keep going, to reach the Domes. As if there was any hope of getting inside. I won't panic. I have never panicked during a drill in the Domes; I refuse to panic now.

  I gather up the few things I have with me, knowing only Time will tell if I'll get to keep them intact outside the transport. It is unlikely, but I'll take any chance I can get. Then I shove my way through the small crowd around the driver to make my way to the exit. I’m leaving, I shout at them, escaping before the transport collapses. Then I punch at the door controls and force myself to leap down the stairs. I won’t tell the others to follow me. This is my choice. They'll have to make theirs.

  Outside, I discover at least one truth in what our teachers taught us. I’m not shifting, though part of me feels the Dilation like a strong wind, tugging at my skin and bones as if to warp me to pieces. There used to be a song, I remember, almost dizzy from the effort of standing upright as the ground rolls beneath me. A classmate found it in the restricted archives and played it for a laugh on the rec field. Something about doing a time warp again… As if anyone wanted to do it the first time. Our instructor had been ashen when he’d caught everyone listening, confiscating the recorder and placing the classmate in isolation. The instigator was caught out during the next drill, or so I remember now. I never see him at the shelter, either.

  Where do they go? Where have all of the lost exiles vanished? I wonder if I’ll finally find the answers I’ve
wondered about for years; I suspect I will discover the answer first hand.

  Enough standing around. Time enough to wonder as I walk. I step out against the force of the Dilation against my skin, stumbling a bit as the pavement shifts and crumbles beneath my feet. The rails of the transport are still intact, I notice. They, at least, seem to be truly made of the Dome material, and so might actually remain stable beneath me. It is as good a road as any other I might find out here.

  And at least I know it leads in the direction I need to travel. I might survive outside for a while, but to last longer than a day, I need the shelter.

  I nod to myself and step to the rail line, tapping it gingerly with a rapidly changing boot and then stepping up onto the rail and striding out along it, one foot in front of the other.

  Behind me, there is a shriek of metal and a dozen or more human screams that abruptly fall silent. I don’t look back. I made my choice. They made theirs. I do pause at the sound of running footsteps behind me. Someone else has escaped the death trap and follows my lead. There is strength in numbers, I remind myself. The steps sound beside me, and I look over to see their owner stumbling up onto the other railing to my left.

  It's a woman, and I think I might have seen her once or twice. Another face on the transport seeking out a loved one among the exiles. I can’t help but wonder how often she and her family asked "Why?" If they ever did. I might have been this woman's doom, I realize, a heavy weight growing in the pit of my stomach before I force it away. It is too late to consider such things. Now we need to survive.

  I realize we have both paused, the pair of us staring at each other warily, and I nod at her and then down the rail line towards the shelter. For some reason, I hesitate to speak over the roaring of the Dilation, and it seems she feels the same. She merely nods back, and, almost as one, we both move again, balancing on the wide rails as confidently as we can.

  Care is certainly a necessity; a slip and a twist of the ankle could be fatal out here, but neither do we want to linger. The quicker we both can reach the shelter, the sooner there might be some semblance of safety. We’re farther down the line than I expect when speed fails to offer that safety any longer.

  Off to my right I begin to hear a whimper, and my fellow traveler and I slow despite knowing better, eyes drawn to the pitiful figure of a ragged mutt of a dog flailing about, ground and body both betraying it.

  I remember there was a dog in the Domes years ago – a little thing, fluffy and adorable. It belonged to an older couple just a few residence blocks over. It died eventually, but I’ve never forgotten the fear that always struck in the pit of my stomach at the thought of a Time Dilation reaching through the Domes to affect that little bit of cute. Our instructor had shown films of what happened to animals, as well as physical objects. He had found it all fascinating or so he’d say, grinning at the screen.

  I wish he were here instead. Let him be the one ‘lucky' enough to witness the transformation that the Dilation is about to bring about. I find myself pinned in place as the dog whimpers again, the sound roughening to a low growl as its legs lengthen, and its chest grows broader, stronger. I know the word ‘wolf,’ but I have never understood it until now. I can’t decide if I should try to run or stay still as the snarling animal begins to pace towards us slowly, but so, so steadily.

  The woman makes the decision for me. Breath escaping her in a terrified gasp, she takes off sprinting away from the rail line, keeping her feet as best she can in the ever-changing landscape. Her flight catches the wolf’s attention, and I can almost see the animal make its decision. It lunges into motion, powerful legs leaping over the transport rails and hurling itself after the fleeing woman.

  The sight of its tail somehow spurs me into motion, and I run while I still can, hardly daring to look left to see if the other woman still runs. My feet pound against the metal of the railing, the solid soles of my shoes shifting to soft leather, the change throwing off my stride. In the midst of a stumble, I hear a faint cry of fear. It cuts off abruptly, and I shudder and force myself to run faster, feet now bare against the rail. My clothing is little more than tanned leather draped about my shoulders now, and a hysterical part of my mind wonders if I will reach the shelter completely nude, if I reach the shelter at all.

  At the thought that I might not make it, I shudder again, and I lose my stride as panic overtakes me finally. I try to run helplessly, limbs barely coordinated, feet falling off and on the rail until it hardly matters that the metal stays stable. I’m not stable any longer. I know it. I just wish I'd managed to hold it together long enough to reach help without looking like a sobbing fool. I’ll arrive naked and bawling at this point. The experience is like a horrible birth into life outside the Domes.

  I stumble to a halt, too exhausted to run anymore, and hopeless enough to wonder if there’s even a point in running. I’m the only one who was on that transport that is still alive. What gives me the right to live when the others died so horribly? I’m almost sure it’s my fault the transport was sent out too late before a Dilation in the first place. My fault, I whisper.

  All my fault.

  I turn slowly in place between the rails, stomach rolling with the ground under my feet, the rails the only point of stillness on the horizon. How much longer? How much longer until the Dilation passes? Until the world feels sane again? Too long, I know is likely to be the answer.

  I sink to my knees and sigh, my head falling down to my chest. I don’t want to die like this. I don’t want to die at all. But I’m just so tired. A part of me thinks that the Dilation is finally affecting me. Maybe it’s just shock finally kicking in, another thought retorts. Shock would be the sane reaction, after all. I’ve held it together up until now. It’s not surprising the adrenaline has finally let me down.

  I just wish it had held through long enough to get me to the shelter.

  I fall farther to sit finally, all but sprawled against the rail behind me. There could be another wolf about for all I know, but there’s nothing I could do to escape it if it appears. A bone deep lethargy has me curled up, almost content to simply let the end come. No more fighting against it.

  I try to muster up the energy to look around for threats, but my eyelids are fluttering shut almost on their own. I am nearly ready to let them simply close, but movement in the distance spurs me to sit up straight, strength almost gone.

  They might be a mirage, I think, eyes somehow unable to look too closely at the figures striding towards me. They are humanoid, or so they must be the way they walk erect. Two legs, two arms. They should appear familiar, but they are not. Their skin gleams a faint metallic sheen, almost seeming to reflect the invisible ripples of the Dilation around them. They wear only skin as far as I can tell; I don’t see clothing on any of them.

  None of them seems to care either.

  I am already curled in, shielding as much of my nakedness as I can, but the strangers are… unconcerned with their nudity. I have never been as comfortable in my own skin as they appear to be. I wish for that confidence suddenly, with a yearning strong enough to distract me even from the Dilation storming around.

  It’s odd that, of all the things I could want right now, that confidence is key. It is the lack of fear, I think, that appeals. Nudity is vulnerability, and these beings striding unhurriedly towards me lack any weakness that I can see. They are strange and yet, beautiful, I realize, taking them in as they reach the far side of the rail.

  One steps forward away from the others without a word, its strides taking it over the rail and to my side. It bends towards me, and with a rush of certainty I realize I know it. Know him.

  He’s my brother, and with a twist of that strange mouth, he smiles and nods down at me.

  You’re right. I am.

  I do not hear his words; no sound has penetrated the din of the Dilation, but yet, I know he’s spoken. Part of me wonders how, but he shakes his head, as if to stop me from wondering further. Still scolding me for too many questions,
I think with a small smile tugging at my lips.

  Always. Someone’s got to do it. Now, we should get you to safety.

  He bends over and lifts me up in his arms in one smooth, effortless motion, and I realize he is much taller than he used to be, towering above the rails like one of the ragged buildings near the Dome. Only so much stronger than the man-made structures are anymore.

  Thank you, he responds, and I sense more than see the pride that would have graced his face if it were still capable of showing it.

  He turns with me in his arms and begins the trek to the shelter, following the rail line as I did. The others pace us from outside the rails, their long legs moving smoothly, barely affected by the shifting of the earth beneath them. I wonder if this is what it truly means to be immune to the Dilations.

  For a while, perhaps. This, too, may change. I wonder that I no longer fear it.

  But how did it happen? I can’t help but wonder at this, as well. As always, I need to know why.

  Always why, he chuckles, echoing my unspoken thoughts. There is a sense of faint laughter from the others, though they give no outward sign of their mirth. Time happened. Time always happens. Humankind adapts to the world around them, with tools and great machines. Our instinct is to build to protect ourselves from the dangers of an ever-changing world, and we seek to respond to the Dilations in the same manner. Our minds resist the physical changes because we know we can change everything else. Just as we have for many thousands of years. Evolution is somewhat slower to affect our physical forms than it is to affect everything else. But it does, in time, affect us.

  I blink in response, but I doubt I understand.

  You will, he tells me. Mind over matter is a funny thing. But still, even that cannot hold out against time forever. It simply takes longer.

  So I’ll become like them. It is not as terrifying a thought as it might have been an hour ago.