Black Ribbons Page 5

  “I will deal with Shae!” Rowan shouted. “Go back to your shelters.”

  None of the men moved. They stood silently in their cloaks, waiting to see what would happen to Shae.

  Rowan turned to Shae. Shae looked afraid. Rowan looked angry. Abigail watched them from the clearing, not wanting to be a part of their world. And knowing now the sun really did protect her.

  “You killed your brother,” Rowan said through gritted teeth.

  “Many times he tried to kill her,” Shae argued. “He'd gone mad.”

  “From lack of sustenance!” Rowan shouted. “On our ship would be supplies to restore us. You knew he would be well again.”

  Shae said nothing.

  “You killed your brother,” Rowan said again.

  “He attacked the girl,” Shae said.

  “That girl has torn our family apart,” Rowan said, pointing at her.

  Abigail thought she was going to be sick. What if they decided it was best to kill her after all? Should she run? She knew they could hunt her and chase her down. There was no escaping them. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly shivering in the sunshine.

  Rowan had paused to think. “You must decide what to do with the girl,” he said to Shae. “But she cannot stay as she is.”

  “What are you saying?” Shae asked, a little horrified.

  Rowan fumed quietly for a moment, then tried to speak rationally. “Either we kill her and drink her blood—”

  Shae gasped.

  “—As we meant to so many weeks ago,” Rowan said, “or you turn her into one of our kind and she stays... or...”

  “Or what?” Shae demanded.

  “Or she stays human and you stay here with her,” Rowan finished.

  Shae looked over at Abigail with tears in his eyes. She had tears in her eyes too.

  “What if we leave her here alive?” Shae asked. Tears rolled down his face.

  “We do not know how close our ship is or if it still functions. We may have to learn to live here for a great long while,” Rowan said. “If we let her go, she will tell the humans where we are.”

  Shae cried silently.

  “We killed her family, Shae,” Rowan said to him emphatically. “She will lead them to us.”

  He was right, she thought. That is exactly what she would do if she had the chance.

  Shae's voice was full of tears, but he tried to speak normally. “We can't turn her into a savage, like one of us,” he said. “We may never leave this planet.”

  “Yes,” Rowan said quietly.

  Shae dipped his head down. Then he crouched and sat on the ground, and buried his face in his arms, folded on his knees, as he cried.

  Rowan watched him sternly.

  Shae took his face off his arms and said, afraid to look up and see sun, “I will stay with her.”

  A few of the men gasped.

  “All right,” Rowan said. He put a hand on Shae's shoulder, then walked away.

  Abigail stood in the clearing with tears running down her face. The men all wandered back to the camp with Rowan, some shaking their heads in disbelief at Shae first. When they were gone, Abigail ran over to Shae and kneeled and threw her arms around him. He held her tightly in his arms, careful to cover his hands with his sleeves.

  * * *

  It was decided that Shae and Abigail should leave immediately. Walking back the way they came, to get distance from the group, and make their own camp. Rowan and the others would do a funeral for Piah at nightfall and then continue on their journey.

  Abigail and Shae had decided to go back to the ghost town for now. She had packed her things and filled her pouches with water, and she and Shae started walking. Through the deepest part of the woods, away from daylight.

  Shae no longer held her hand as they walked. He was lost in his own thoughts.

  Abigail said nothing, but she was relieved to be free from the menace of Piah. And the threat of the others becoming like him, one by one.

  Chapter 10

  Shae and Abigail walked through the woods for the rest of the day. Abigail had thought they would stop and make a shelter, but Shae seemed determined to keep walking. He avoided shafts of sunlight, and Abigail kept up with him.

  Nighttime came and they could walk along the road again. They passed the fuel station, but lights were on inside it now, so they went back into the woods to pass by it.

  Abigail was exhausted. “Shae,” she said.

  Shae turned and looked at her, surprised to hear her speak. He took his hood down. “Yes?”

  “Can we stop to rest?” she said.

  “Of course.” He stopped and looked around. There was a fallen tree they could sit on. He walked over to it and sat, and she followed.

  She took a drink from her water pouch.

  Shae didn't know how to ask what he wanted to know, so he stared at her for a minute.

  She glanced over at him and smiled.

  “What's your name?” he finally asked.

  “Abigail,” she said.

  “Abigail,” he repeated. He liked it.

  He stared into the night. Light from a lone streetlamp near the store filtered into the woods.

  “Abigail,” he said.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “I'm sorry about your family,” Shae said quietly, sincerely.

  “Oh,” Abigail said, looking down, a tightness growing in her chest.

  “I'm sorry about your family,” Abigail said to him. He'd been torn from his family because of her.

  He looked surprised and sort of nodded at her.

  He stood up and offered her a hand. “We should leave now and make our camp in a house in the empty town.”

  Abigail took his hand and smiled at him. She stood and said, “Actually, it's called a 'ghost town'.”

  “Really?” Shae asked as they started to walk hand in hand. He sounded fascinated.

  “Mm-hmm...” Abigail said. She once again felt happier than she thought she should.

  They walked the rest of the way in silence. They went back to walking along the road and eventually reached the little town again. They walked down the main street. It was now too dim for Abigail to see well. But Shae pointed to a house and Abigail nodded. It was a little brown house she could see as they approached it.

  Shae shoved open the front door and went inside. It was too dark to see anything. He got out the flint stones and flashed them so he could look around the room. He saw an old candlestick on a shelf. He used the flint stones to light it, then carefully carried the candle over to Abigail and gave it to her. She smiled.

  She was guessing it was close to dawn, though the sky was still dark. Shae wandered the rest of the small house, looking to see what was there. He could see fairly well in the dark, but flicked his flint stones now and then for a better look. He brought Abigail two more half-burned candles.

  She had made a bed in the middle of the living room. The curtains were drawn on the one window on the front wall. She had lain down on a cloak and covered herself with another. Old furniture was randomly placed around the room. Shae laid his cloak down next to hers. They each had bunched up some of their cloak to make a pillow. They were lying down, facing each other, and the candle burned a foot or two from their heads.

  Abigail reached out and took Shae's hand. They intertwined their fingers.

  “What is the name of the place you are from?” Abigail asked.

  “Raress,” Shae answered.

  They spoke in hushed whispers for no reason.

  “A planet?” she asked, fascinated.

  “Yes,” he smiled.

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked her.

  She gave him a serious look. “Why didn't you kill me?” she asked.

  “What?” he sounded surprised.

  “In my family's house.”

  “Oh.” He let go of her hand and rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling. “You know there are no c
hildren on my planet.”

  “Really?” she said.

  “We make more of our kind through a ritual, an exchange of blood. With adults.” He rolled onto his side and propped his head up with his hand, elbow on the floor. “So, there are no babies or children.”

  “Oh,” she said, a little confused.

  “We don't have innocence on my planet,” he said.

  She was starting to understand.

  “Everyone there is old or wise or jaded... but no one is innocent.” He looked sad and dreamy as he spoke. “We have all seen war... and tribulation.”

  Abigail listened intently, but said nothing.

  “So when you opened your eyes that night... I saw innocence,” he said. “And fear.” He lay down again, facing her. “I couldn’t hurt you,” he said. “And I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

  Her eyes were becoming glassy with tears. “If I hadn't woken up,” she said, “I'd be like the others.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I'm sorry...”

  She nodded. Tears ran down her face. One ran near her mouth and she stuck her tongue out to taste the salt of it.

  Shae laughed at her.

  She laughed too.

  He reached over and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “How old are you?” she asked with a wrinkled forehead.

  “Four hundred and two.”

  “What?!” she exclaimed.

  He laughed. “How old are you?” he asked her.

  “Sixteen.”

  “Hmm.”

  “How can you live to be four hundred and two?” Abigail asked, incredulous.

  “My kind live forever if we are not killed,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Whoa...” she said.

  “Rowan is three thousand fifty-seven,” he said smugly.

  “What?!” She sounded incredulous again.

  Shae laughed.

  She smiled.

  “I'm glad you're here,” he said.

  “I'm glad you're here,” she said back.

  He leaned over and kissed her on the nose.

  She blushed.

  He blew out the candle. The sky was starting to get lighter outside. He threw an arm around her and she let him. And they fell asleep.

  Chapter 11

  When Abigail woke, Shae was pacing the living room. It was still daytime. He noticed she was awake.

  He gave her a quick smile. “You know, having a house to pace in is much better than a tiny tent, but it still feels small. Like I'm trapped.”

  “Sorry,” she said, sitting up.

  “It's not your fault,” he said, crouching to hold her by the shoulders briefly. He stood and started pacing again. “I just need... blood.” He hoped she wasn't offended.

  “I know,” she said, straightening her nightgown. It was getting pretty worn and dirty. She had managed to wash it twice in the river while the others were trapped by daylight. She'd worn her cloak and let the nightgown dry in the sun. But it still had a few tears around the bottom and grass stains and some dirt here and there.

  Shae was watching her inspect the nightgown. He sat cross legged on the floor in front of her. “What can we do in this world of yours,” he asked, “to... live?” He took her hands.

  “I don't know,” she said. “We could... grow food in the back yard. You could hunt deer... I don't know.”

  “We don't have to decide now,” he said. He jumped up. “There's a place in the kitchen where you can build a fire,” he partially walked toward it. “A black metal chamber.”

  “A wood stove?” she said, laughing.

  “Yes!” He paced some more, excitedly. “And I could chop wood for you. At night.”

  She laughed.

  “And you could get water from the river, and maybe we could find berries, and you could 'grow food',” he said, miming a plant growing taller than him.

  “That's some pretty tall food,” Abigail said.

  Shae sat in front of her again, “But in my world the food is that tall.” He was speaking passionately. “We have a flower, the Malinar, that grows taller than a man. It has a tough stalk with the flower's milk running through it. That's why we have the sharp teeth that descend,” he said pointing to his teeth. “Those who made us what we are evolved on that planet.”

  Abigail was fascinated.

  “And the Malinar is full of life energy, much more than anything on Earth. We eat the flowers and stems and drink the milk of it, all without cooking it. Cooking food is an Earthly custom. We had Malinar flowers growing in our ship, but exposure to the air of Earth killed them.” He looked sad. “And our teeth that are sharp enough for the Malinar stem cut human flesh so easily.” He had grown quiet.

  “Yes,” she said, trying not to sound emotional.

  He put his hands on hers. “But I like your human ways,” he said.

  She looked up. He smiled. She smiled back.

  He glanced out the window. “Yes! The sky dims.” He jumped up again.

  She laughed.

  * * *

  Shae went out hunting that night and fed on a deer and brought her meat to cook. He also brought her huckleberries and raspberries. He had found wild patches of both.

  Abigail had found a bucket and cleaned it in the river, which was across the street and in the woods behind the houses. She'd filled it with water and brought it back. She'd also found an ancient pile of wood in a shed out back. So dry it would burn quickly. She was a little afraid that spiders and mice would jump out at her, but she blew dust and cobwebs off the wood and built a fire in the wood stove. She swept out the house with an old broom. She cooked deer meat on the stove, using sticks to hold the meat above it. She didn't think it was clean enough.

  She ate berries, she ate deer jerky, and drank cold water from the river. Shae had drunk a lot from the deer and he was happy. Once again they fell asleep in each other's arms.

  It went on like this. She tried to clean and organize the house and he'd go out hunting at night. And when he was away, she'd wander the town in the dark. At first she did it to gather things from the other houses that they might need. A cast iron pot, small table and chairs. She found an old rusty bicycle that still worked, though she couldn’t find a use for it.

  But days passed, weeks, and she began wandering the town just because there was nothing else to do. They were so isolated. It was depressing that it was always dark. She didn't go out in the day much. She felt guilty for leaving him trapped.

  He had become less excited by this adventure. Deer blood still wasn't quiet enough for him. It made him moody to be so hungry. He didn't much like all the darkness either. On his planet the light was softer and gently invigorating. The air was cleaner, and full of life. Much more so than the dead stale air of Earth, which is how it seemed to him.

  They talked of these things, everything, while trapped in the house in the day. At night they were separated. This depressed her too. She missed him. Never knew exactly where he was or if he was okay, until he came home, just before dawn. He'd quietly put his arm around her and fall asleep.

  Even in the daytime, they were becoming quieter, after they woke. He would stare out the window, a safe distance from the light. She would stare into space. Each missed his or her family.

  She wondered why God had spared her. In reality it seemed like he was punishing her. She was suffering. Her family was in Heaven. And even Shae's family was in a sort of Heaven, if Raress was as he described. And he had no way of getting back there either.

  And they couldn't live like this forever, in a broken-down home in a ghost town, no contact with anyone else, nothing.

  One night as she wandered in the dark, she discovered a cemetery. It was two streets behind their house, and at the edge of town. The trees opened up to a big sweeping valley, but before the valley was a low flat hill. The old cemetery sat on top of this. A large area, surrounded by a short rotting fence, falling down in some places. She discovered it at twilight and walked down the rows of headstones, broke
n, chipped, or tipping over a little bit. There were only about 100.

  She read the headstones in the dim light. People who had died over a century ago. Many of them children. There was a 16-year-old girl, and two 15-year-old girls, all in a row. Different last names. Not related probably. What had children been dying of?

  She went to the cemetery often and invented stories about the people there, and reasons they had died. Scarlet fever for that baby there. Maybe this young mother had died in childbirth. She decided the teenage girls had died of influenza. History was her favorite subject in school. She loved imagining what their lives had been like.

  Sometimes she talked to them, having no one else to talk to at night. Sometimes she'd lay down on the grave of the 16-year-old girl, Susanna, just to feel closer to her. She'd whisper confessions and secrets and fears to her. Sometimes she'd fall asleep there.

  On one moonlit night she was dozing, lying on the grave. She heard footsteps approaching, crunching the dry grass. She didn't even care.

  “Abigail?” Shae said in a worried tone.

  “Shae,” she said dreamily. She opened her eyes and sat up. “Have you met Susanna?” she asked sincerely. He may have visited the graves too for all she knew. He didn't answer, just crouched in front of her still looking worried. “She collects dolls,” Abigail said. “See? There's one carved in the corner of her headstone.”

  “Abigail...” he said sadly.

  “She's in love with the schoolteacher’s son, but no one knows, shhhh...”

  He took her hands and helped her up. It was summer and warm, so she wasn't wearing her cloak, and she was barefoot. He could see in the dark she had cuts and scrapes on her feet from the dry grass and rocks and dirt between the house and here.

  “She likes to lie on the ground on bright summer days and find shapes in the clouds. When it rains, she makes paper dolls.”

  He helped her start walking home.

  She said in a whisper, “I wasn't allowed to have paper dolls. Fashion is vanity.”

  He saw her limping and scooped her up into his arms to carry her. She wiggled her feet happily.

  Clearly she has gone mad, Shae thought. What had he been thinking? They killed her family, stole her from her village, and now he was making her live in the dark, alone, with no one but him to talk to. Selfish.

  He carried her into the house and set her down on their bed on the living room floor. He had tears in his eyes. He meant to walk away, but she said, “Shae, Shae, Shae,” and pulled at his pant leg.