Chapter Ten Heaven

It was the light that woke him.

Light from the rising sun, forming beams as minute and glorious as strands of spider’s silk, penetrated the small spaces between the green leaves and intertwined branches that made up the vast canopy of the dark forest. Although now it was not so dark.

Roach’s lashes fluttered as the remnants of a dark and desperate dream echoed vaguely within the recesses of his wearied mind before disappearing completely and leaving him wondering if he had ever dreamed at all. He couldn’t remember crawling down to this grassy space between the roots of the massive tree looming above him and the others. As he sat up, Roach glanced down to Precious, who was still lost in a restless slumber. Roach carefully slid his arm from beneath Precious’ back then lifted his eyes to look about them where the others were huddled together.

Mourning seemed to not have moved since the previous night. He was still poised on the large arching root, his back to the rest of them and his head tilted back. His muscular body cast a long shadow over the faces of Prince and Early, who was pulled to Prince’s chest with both of the darker boy’s arms locked around his small frame. Early was shivering; his blonde hair dampened by sweat that was easing its way down the side of his face. Prince was trembling himself, and his face was lined with pain even in sleep; there were fresh sores on his cheek and one of his eyes was watering heavily. Roach frowned and looked down at Precious, finding he also was coated in a thin layer of sweat that mingled at his chest with the water, blood, and pus gathering at his sores.

Cherry Toes was sitting up, leaning his back against the roots, his arms resting limply in his lap and his head lolling to one side. He was still asleep, too, as was Spider, who was stretched out by himself.

“I don’t think Prince is going to last much longer.”

Roach was startled by Mourning’s voice that, despite being a low whisper, seemed as loud as a gunshot in the quiet forest. “Why do you say that?” He replied, easing away from Precious. He rose to his feet and stood by the root, looking up at Mourning’s back. “He seemed fine yesterday.”

“He has a fever; a high one.”

Roach stiffened. “Is there anything we can do?”

“I’m afraid not, its not like we have any sort of medicines out here.” Mourning said, turning to meet Roach’s gaze. “Even if we did, there isn’t any kind of medicine for this. The Mothers wouldn’t have tried to kill everyone if their had been a way around it.”

Roach knew he was right, but it didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. “Should we wake them?”

Mourning shifted and slid down the root, drooping to his feet in front of Roach. He nodded, running his hand through his long, black hair. “We’re too close to the colony here. We need to move deeper into the forest to see if we can find any shelter, maybe another colony. We can’t be the only people left after the bombings.”

“Do we really want to find another colony?” Roach questioned as he knelt down beside of Precious. “I mean, look what’s happened …”

Mourning fell quiet and lowered his eyes, pressing his bare, mud sprinkled toes against Prince’s side. Prince moaned softly as his eyes opened, and he squinted up at Mourning, moving one of his dark hands from Early’s back to rub his heavy eyes. “Morning already?” He whispered, his voice thick and hoarse.

Mourning nodded and glanced over his shoulder back toward the colony before looking back at Prince, who had begun to ease himself into a sitting position, drawing his thin legs to his chest and draping one of his arms about them. His other hand was toying with Early’s blonde hair. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re moving further into the forest,” Mourning explained as he bent to shake Cherry Toes awake. “Right now we’re too close to the colony.”

“We can’t be very close,” Prince argued, furrowing his brows. “We ran all night… surely we must be-”

“From where I sat on that tree root I could see the Morgue, Prince.” Mourning interrupted, pointing in the direction they had come from. Cherry Toes rose to his feet and stretched his thin arms over his head, giving a squeaky yawn.

“I’m hungry.” He said pleasantly, looking around at the others with a drowsy, half smile. Roach hadn’t even thought about food since they had fled, but the statement made his stomach growl furiously. He touched a hand to his flat stomach and glanced to Mourning.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Mourning muttered. “What are we going to eat, Roach?”

Roach sighed, turning his attention from Mourning to Precious. He laid his hand against Precious’ sweaty cheek and gasped, finding his Son’s skin to be quite hot to the touch. “Precious?” The boy groaned wearily as Roach gave his shoulder a gentle, but firm shake.

“Roach?” Precious pushed himself into a sitting position and leaned against Roach’s chest, lifting one of his pale hands to rub his eyes. Roach smiled and draped one arm around Precious’ shoulders.

“How are you feeling, Precious?”

“Fine.”

Once Precious and Spider had been woken, the small group set out from the tree and wandered through the forest. Roach was at the lead with Precious by his side followed by Spider then Prince and Early, and lastly Mourning, who was continuously glancing over his shoulder as if he suspected they were being followed.

They were able to tell time by the beams of sunlight falling through the spaces between the leaves. Roach could roughly tell the position of the sun depending on the slant of the beams of light. When the beams were falling straight down like thin, gleaming pillars, Roach found himself stepping from the forest into a circular clearing.

Tall grass swayed in the calm breeze that was disturbing the canopy of leaves; the sun shone in full force, giving the field of grass a heavenly aura. There were wildflowers sprouting up between the emerald stalks; butterflies floated on the breeze like colored leaves. Roach blinked in the harsh light of the unhindered sun, and lifted one of his arms to shield his eyes.

While he was still waiting for his eyes to adjust, he felt Precious slip away from his arms. “Precious?”

The other boy did not answer; instead he lifted one of his sore speckled hands and stretched out his thin fingers toward the sky, trying to brush the tips of his fingers to the edges of the butterfly wings. Early laughed and stumbled from Prince’s arms to join Precious among the flowers and the grass.

Roach did not follow even after Spider let out a whoop and pushed passed him to join the younger boy’s in the field. He simply stood at the tree line with Mourning and weary Prince by his side.

The butterflies dipped down, caressing the cheeks of the boys with their wings as the young ones pranced and bounded about like fawns. Roach barely breathed as if he feared that the slightest sound would shattered the beautiful morning and bring reality crashing down onto them. Soon, he and Mourning were the only ones remaining beneath the shade of the trees.

Prince had limped out into the sun and caught up Early into his thin arms, spinning the smaller boy around until they both fell and tumbled in the grass and flowers, coming to rest on the soft, emerald carpet with their arms about each other and their soft laughter easing from their lips. Cherry Toes had sprinted out after Spider, and they had engaged in a game, darting after each other and blowing the white, downy seeds of dandelions into the air so that the parachuting seeds landed among their hair and clung to their robes.

Soon, the robes had fallen away, their bare skin glowed with an otherworldly light, and when Precious turned to face Roach, to beckon him to his side, his blonde hair slowly caressed his cheeks and his blue eyes danced as Roach had forgotten they could. Roach felt the pain and the worries that had anchored him fall away; his robes slid off of his back, and he danced out into the open air like a proud yearling, tossing his dark brown hair over his shoulder as his lean arms encircled about Precious.

And together, they swayed with the breeze, they swam in the tall grass and plucked flowers from the earth to weave into one another’s hair. One, however, still remained beneath the shadowy canopy of the trees.

Mourning could not bear to step into the light, for doing so would surely cause his pain to burst from behind the walls he had built with sleepless nights and a few meager tears. In the playful boys he could see his Son, Bright Eyes. The six boys became one as they moved in the field, becoming the young boy that Mourning had murdered. At the time he had thought that he had no other choice, but now as he saw Precious and Roach, he realized that he had had another choice and had been too cowardly to choose it.

The pain that shattered his skull was a welcomed, but short burst. For the brief period before he fell to the earth, he could hear the back of his head give beneath the piercing lead. He watched the bullet as it hovered for a few moments in front of his face after exiting his forehead. Blood oozed down his nose and spilled between his parted lips. The warm liquid was pouring down his neck and staining his shoulders.

When he fell, he fell into darkness, but this was soon replaced by slivers of amber light, and a familiar hand grasped his, lifting him from the earth to lead him home.

Spider was laughing when the pain struck his throat. It was not such a terrible pain, and for a few happy moments, he believed that his laughter and shouts had caused the sudden spasm. He found that he was mistaken when he began to gurgle and choke on the warm liquid rising into his throat.

He had seen Mourning fall forward to the earth and had gone to see what was troubling the boy, but had stopped at the edge of the field when the pain hit him. He had never heard the thunderous crack of the weapon or if he had, he had paid it no heed, attributing it to a coming storm. He could not have known how correct he was; instead of rain and hail, this storm brought a volley of bullets and a spray of crimson.

The smile still hung stupidly on his face as his hand, trembling from shock, lifted and the tips of his fingers plunged into the gaping hole left in his Adam’s apple by the bullet. The smile did not fade even as he sank to his knees then fell beside Mourning’s body. His eyes remained partially open, and as he faded, he felt the weight of his killers as they walked on his back and hands and legs, crushing him like the insignificant pest he was.

And the last memory that came to him, ironically was also one of his first. It was the memory of his namesake as it dangled in front of his mother’s face while she clutched him to her breasts. The spider he had been named for had perished the way he now was, beneath the unforgiving soles of a pair of dark boots.

Early was nestled against Prince when he felt a change. The older boy’s skin was no longer burning with a fever, and his form was unnaturally still. Early shifted to place his ear against Prince’s chest, listening for the beating of a heart. Somehow, even before the long moments passed in silence, he knew that the Drone was dead. Early swallowed hard, feeling a lump working its way into his throat.

He heard the shattering of the weapons and the thumping of boots as they trudged through the sea of grass. He didn’t flinch when the shadow of death passed over him and the bullet tore a hole into his heart. His heart had already been shattered before the physical wound was inflicted. He did not lift his eyes to meet the gaze of the masked figures trudging over him and Prince; Early only shut his eyes and fell asleep knowing that when he awoke he and Prince would be rested and able to run again together in golden fields forever.

The shot that sent Early to join Prince startled Roach out of his reverie.

He wheeled about on his heels, staggering backwards once before finding his balance. Somehow, he was not surprised when he saw the figures with their weapons and gas masks marching across his fragile heaven like demons. He did not have to look to know that the others were dead, but as another gunshot shattered the morning stillness, he could not stop himself from glancing to see Cherry Toes topple backward with trails of blood arching behind him in the air as he fell.

Without taking the time to feel even the slightest twinge of pain for the fate of the others, he turned and jogged to Precious’ side. There was no need for words; Precious leapt onto Roach’s back, knowing that he was too tired to be able to run. He flung his arms about Roach’s neck, and Roach fled.

He glanced back only once, to find the field aglow with orange flames. Black smoke billowed into the sky, blotting out the sun so that the only light that shone on the field was the light from the fires, and Roach knew as he turned back to face the forest before him that he had lost his heaven and was descending now into a hell from which he could never escape.