DIRECTIONS FROM A SMALL TOWN APOCALYPSE

by John M McCormick

 
 
THE YOUNG WOMAN stood before the weather-beaten farmer. Ruins of several farmhouses had caught her eye as she meandered through the wasteland of what was once a bustling rural community. The farmer’s house, which was surrounded by fields that had been mostly cleared of ash by ploughing it under for fertilizer, was largely intact.

‘If ye’s aiming to get to the city, you’re on the right track,’ the farmer said, a length of hayseed bobbing hypnotically from his mouth as he talked.

The farmer continued, ‘Ye ain’t from around here, so let me tell you, first things first, you be careful. This ain’t a place fit for man nor beast, and I’m afeared of letting you go it alone to the city, but,’ the farmer gestured to his mule hitched to a plough before continuing, ‘I’ve got things to do here that can’t be neglected.’

The woman nodded and pulled her dust-covered poncho tighter around her emaciated body to stave off the chill of early spring.

‘Now, you cain’t go the interstate because it come to life and has been slithering about like a snake for a while now. It’s plum dangerous to get near the damn thing, let alone try to walk on it. It’ll be still a ways and then start up it’s nonsense, and I’ve knowed several good folks that met their end that way. Hell of a thing for a survivor to get kill’t trying to walk a road, but that’s the way she goes.’

The farmer turned and spit, the brown juice from his chaw of tobacco staining the ash-covered rock next to his boot. The young woman wondered at the soil here. It seemed rocky and hard to manage, and she couldn’t help but question the farmer’s sanity for not moving on to an easier tract of land. Despite her urge to give unsolicited advice, she said nothing, staring intently as the farmer began to speak again.

‘Now, girl, you’re gonna want to listen close, ya hear?’

‘I hear,’ the young woman said, her tone punctuated with a seriousness that seemed to satisfy the worried farmer.

The farmer licked his lips, put his hands on his hips, and stared up above her right shoulder into the sky at the cloud-obscured late afternoon sun. He stood like this for a moment, lost in thought before he met her eyes again and continued.

‘You’ll follow the road as far as you can see it. The main road, cutting right through town.’ The farmer gestured, pointing and letting his finger guide the young traveller’s vision along a road that had been cleared of obstructions. It was surrounded on both sides by what appeared to be foundations of buildings and houses, as well as piles of debris.

‘I cleared it up to a point, as far as I care to go, give or take. After that, you’ll have a hard time following it. I reckon you should watch the ruins on either side of you to get an idea of when it curves after the ash takes back over. Poke around with a stick down in the ash and use the feel of it to guide your way.’

The young woman thought for a moment. She’d need a walking stick. Her eyes darted back and forth, already searching the remnants of the town for something she could use when the farmer’s voice drew her attention back to him.

‘Okay, so you’re gonna follow the road for about a mile, and then you’re gonna see a dead god. Can’t miss it. It’s round about twenty feet tall, and made out of what I reckon could be pure ruby. It’s laying face down. Thing’s got twelve arms, six on each side, and one of the arms is pointing north. You can tell because all the other hands are splayed open, but this one’s middle finger is pointing. I did that.’

The farmer held up his right hand, showing the young woman the disfiguring burns on his fingers, long since healed.

‘Don’t touch the damned thing,’ he said with a grimace before flipping his hand over and staring at the scars.

‘Anyway, you are gonna walk in the direction it’s pointing. That’ll take you up to Elouise Johnson’s old place. You’ll know it because it’s half still standing, about a mile away in the direction you’ll be walking. Blue paint. Avoid the red-painted ruins. Those are the barn, and they’re full of ghouls.’

The farmer shuddered at the thought. Then he looked the girl up and down from head to toe. She immediately became uncomfortable, but that discomfort subsided when the man began to speak again.

‘Damn my eyes,’ he said, sounding genuinely frustrated. ‘You’re a skinny thing, and I had a girl about your age. When you get to Elouise’s place, be sure to open the old oven in there. You’ll find some rations. Eat what you can while you’re there, and take as much as you can carry. I’ll be alright, but I don’t know if you will if you don’t eat.’

‘I bet you miss her,’ the girl said.

‘Every damned day,’ the man replied.

‘What was her name?’

‘Sadie.’

‘I’m sorry she’s gone,’ the girl said with sincerity.

‘Me too, child,’ the farmer replied, his voice tinged with hurt, ‘but I reckon we’ve all lost more than we ever dreamed we could. All ’ats left to do is keep on living til we ain’t able no more and see if there’s something after.’

‘You think there is?’ the girl asked, uneasy about the turn toward the philosophical the discussion was taking. She hated to think too much about it all because the thoughts could be unsettling.

‘Hope not,’ the farmer said, his voice flat. He pondered a moment before adding, ‘Unless it’s better’n this shit, and maybe my Sadie is there with her ma and her brother and, hell, every dog and cat we’ve ever had.’

The young woman smiled at this, and the farmer smiled back.

‘It’s a nice thought,’ she said.

‘I figure once you get up to Elouise’s place and get some food in you, it’ll be about dark. Sleep there in one of the rooms that’s still intact. Nothing ought to bother you. But listen, you’re gonna see and hear things, and you need to be prepared and aware. In the southern meadow, there’ll be a burning horse running around, likely shrieking through most of the night. If it catches on that you’re there, it’ll try to talk to you. Do not talk to the horse. There’s no treasure in the cave, and it’ll just try to eat you if you go with it, but I’ve only know’d it to eat people that are actually inside the cave, so as long as you don’t go, you should be fine.’

The young woman’s lips curled into the thinnest of smiles as the aged farmer spoke, his firm warning sounding like it could have come from the mouth of her own father.

‘Now, the good thing is that horse is absolutely fuckin’ terrifying. It’s running around screaming like a madman and covered in wild blue-green flame. It won’t hurt you unless it talks you into going home with it, but the barn ghouls scatter at night in every direction but Elouise’s house.’

‘Well, there’s that,’ the girl said.

‘Silver linings and all,’ the farmer replied. ‘So, come morning you’re going outside the house, and you’re going to look off at the northern horizon. You’ll see a sort of reddish lump in the distance. Head toward it. It’ll look like a hill or a mountain, but really it’s a rancid corpse of some kind. Tough skin laid over bone. The thing is absolutely massive, and the skin’s full of holes, and it’s plum full of imps, those little green peckerless fellas that swarm and eat whatever gets near them. They don’t like coming out during the day but give that thing a wide berth anyway, just to be safe, and then use its head as a guide point. The head points the way to the city.’

The farmer considered the girl for a moment. ‘You sure you want to do this? You could stay here. I’ve the room and could use hands to do the work. It’s a tough patch of ground, but it spits out turnips and cabbage, and since I lost my girl, I could…’

The farmer trailed off. The young woman looked at him and saw tears begin to well in the corners of his eyes before he managed to fight them back. It was a tempting offer. She didn’t know what lay ahead in the city, and the farmer had said he didn’t either when she’d first arrived and asked for directions. It could all be dead or filled with something worse than the dead, or it could be salvation if there were people.

‘Sorry, girl, I ain’t trying to make it weird.’

‘No, no, you’re good. It’s just, I don’t know.’

‘Aye, it’s a difficult thing to make a way in this world. I’m old, and this land is lonely, but it provides, and I have no urge to die in the city. More important, I have no urge to tell you not to if that’s what your heart desires.’

‘Once I’ve started away from the big corpse, how far to the city?’ the girl queried.

‘About twenty miles, and best I can tell from my explorings there’s no shelter out there. I spent a few nights in those plains, dug little hovels in some of the ash drifts, and slept sound inside. It’ll take you a while to get to the city, but it’s safe if you walk the days and sleep at night. Be mindful of the sun, know when to stop, and know how long it’ll take you to dig. Take no chances, girl. Taking chances out there, that’ll get you kill’t deader’n four o’clock.’

‘Anything else I need to know?’

The farmer considered for a moment.

‘When you get about halfway to the city, you’ll cross the interstate. I already warned against following it, but you’ll have to walk across it. If it seems like it could be awake, be sure to avoid it until it sleeps. If you’re not sure, then please, err on the side of caution. I don’t want you getting hurt needlessly like.’

‘Thank you,’ the girl said.

‘What’s your name, girl?’ the farmer asked.

‘June.’

‘You can call me Otis.’

‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Otis.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine.’

The farmer thought for a moment, then said, ‘I’ll make you a promise. When the crops are planted and the busy time is over, I’ll trace your steps. If you’ve died, I’ll put what’s left of you in the soil. I won’t enter the city, but I’ll follow your path up to the outskirts.’

June was touched by this gesture and thanked the man, urging him not to put himself in danger to do such a thing, no matter how much it warmed her heart to think of the man’s voluntary kindness.

June departed with kind words for Otis, who went back to ploughing the obstinate ground, his mule protesting as much as the soil.

She walked a good way along the path he’d described, and just before she was out of sight of the kindly man’s farm, she looked back and watched him for a moment in the distance. She glanced in the direction of the city, then back to the man. The sun would not linger just because she had not made up her mind to return to the farm or continue on her own.

She hesitated, and then with her mind made up she began to walk.

 


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