Everything is Not What It Seems

Everything is Not What It Seems
By: Katie Soblosky

A cool breeze swept through the desolate town of Ferrington. It was the middle of fall and the leaves on the trees were starting to drop to the ground coloring the landscape in hues of red, yellow, and brown. The air was crisp and would cause a burning sensation in your lungs if breathed too fast. It smelled like fall. The empty town seemed a bit spooky since it was so quiet, but it was something that Steve was used to by now. As he sat in his shop, he wondered if he would ever have another customer. A large part of him doubted it, but he kept his normal routine in hopes it would keep him from losing his mind.

He sat behind the counter of his shop cleaning his double-barrel shot gun until he heard a noise that sounded like a scream from outside. He immediately flew out of his chair and hurried to the window. Looking in the direction of the scream, he saw a young man about 19 years old with long brown hair carrying a small backpack. He was running toward Steve's shop, wearing old ripped jeans, a red flannel shirt, black boots, and what appeared to be dried blood all over his clothes. Steve cautiously opened the door and stood with the gun at his side. When the boy saw him he slowed his pace. "What are you running from?” Steve called out as he stroked his long gray beard.

“They saw me!” the boy called back.

“Who saw you? What are you running away from? Are you a criminal or something?” Steve asked. Steve knew who, or rather what, the boy was referring to but in his mind if he didn't recognize that they existed then he could pretend like things were normal again.

“You know what saw me,” the boy snapped, “everyone knows what kinda critters lurk in all the towns and even the big cities now days.”

Steve just sighed and motioned for the boy to come into the shop. As he stepped through the door's threshold, Steve could smell the dirt, grime, and other unidentifiable horrific odors radiating from his guest. The boy reached his hand out and said, “Tha names Bucky, Bucky Thudley.” When Bucky smiled it was obvious that he had come from the backwoods somewhere since he was missing quite a few teeth. Steve reluctantly shook his hand and said, “My name is Steve, just Steve.”

Bucky smiled back and asked, “Is there a chance I could get some fix'ins or at least a bath? I've been traveling a mighty long way.”

The front of Steve's shop is where he sold guns but in the back is where he lived. There were three small rooms aside from the shop area. There was a bathroom with a broken mirror, a very small kitchen that was almost bare, and a bedroom with a frameless bed sitting on the ground. Steve showed him to the bathroom and said, “ I'm quite handy. I have managed to keep running water through all this mess.” Bucky went in and closed the door behind him. A few minutes later Steve heard the water come on. While he waited for Bucky to finish, he went back to cleaning his gun.

Without warning , there was a commotion outside—a car alarm had started to go off. It had been awhile since there was a disturbance of any kind and Steve knew it was only a matter of time before they came. Plus, Bucky probably led them here. Steve was slightly irritated, but it did give him something to do now that they were here. He trudged to the window and searched the mangled mass of broken down cars from where the car alarm was sounding. He stopped when he spotted something unmistakable—a tail covered in scales. “Yep,” he thought, “they are here.”

With gun in hand, Steve opened the door and marched toward the sounding car alarm with his shotgun raised and aimed in that direction. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he chanted as he slowed his pace toward the mass of wrecked cars. Suddenly, he heard the sound of claws hitting metal. He quickly turned to his right and shot the beast in the head, “Head shot,” Steve chuckled as he looked at the creature's body. There it was— a zombie velociraptor. He knew this one was just a scout and when it didn't come back the others would swarm the town. He ran back to the shop as fast as he could and grabbed two camouflage duffel bags and filled them with all the guns and ammo he could find. As a gun shop owner, he had access to the best weaponry around which he believed at least gave him a fighting chance. Bucky was combing his hair in the bathroom when he heard Steve barge through the door, “What was all that racket 'bout?” he asked puzzled.

“They know we're here and there gonna swarm this goddamn place if we don't leave. Get everything you need. But only the things you absolutely need',” Steve said sternly. Despite his old age, his long gray beard, and his hippy-like appearance, he had the air of an army general. Bucky nodded and collected his small bag of belongings he brought with him.

As they hurried out the door with their guns and personal items in hand, Bucky quickly realized that they did not have a car. “Ya plan on walkin', old man?”

“For now. I have a truck hidden somewhere. Don't worry, it has plenty of gas. It's about a day and half's travel or so from here. But we can make it there sooner if we move faster,” Steve said as he quickened his pace to a slow jog. Suddenly, there was a screech from the other side of town. “See they already noticed their little friend didn't return. We need to hurry!” Steve added as he broke into a run.

“Wait up fo'me!” Bucky called as the cool fall air caused his lungs to burn. He wasn't used to running so much or maybe it was just the fear that was creeping over him—they may not make it out alive.

The pair disappeared into the southern tree line that hugged the town. The woods were filled with tall trees whose canopies still blocked out almost all of the sunlight even though many of the leaves had fallen. Despite it only being the early afternoon, it looked like evening. When night fell it would be very difficult to tell where anything was. Even after Steve and Bucky made their way fairly deep into the forest, Steve would not slow down. “Can we take a break. I'm dyin'! I need a rest, ” Bucky pleaded.

“Wrong. You're not dead yet but you will be if you stop. We need to keep moving. Stop lolly gagging about and run. You're young and strong. I should be the one begging for a rest because I can't keep up with you.”

“I'm tryin' but I just can't.”

“Boy, if you can hold a conversation while running then you aren't even out of breath. You'll be fine, just keep going.” The rhythmic beating of their footsteps and the crunching of the leaves beneath their feet was almost musical. Everything was kept in time.

“That's it. I'm taking a rest. You don't gotta stop with me. But I'm taking a rest. I ain't gonna run anymore,” Bucky said as his pace slowed to a walk and then a complete stop as he sat down on the ground among the fallen leaves.

Steve stopped and turned around when he no longer heard Bucky's rhythmic footsteps. “Get up. You don't wanna die, do you?”

“Yep. You betcha'. You got it. That's exactly it. Besides, we'll be runnin' forever. There is no where we can go where they ain't gonna find us. Might as well just accept that now old man and get it over with.”

“I don't know about you but I am no quitter. Now get your sad, sorry, skinny ass up and keep running.”

Bucky obeyed. He couldn't help it. The way Steve talked and conducted himself was the way a military leader would command his troops. Bucky stood up and looked Steve right in the eyes and said, “This better be worth it. I better not be tirin' myself out for nothing. There better be somethin' we're working towards and not just stretching out our death sentences.” Steve nodded and the two continued.

By the evening Steve decided they should stop for the night since traveling was becoming too dangerous. Even though the sun was just beginning to set, it appeared to be pitch black in the impenetrable forest. Steve chose a spot along the Albuminium River to camp for the night. In the morning they would continue to follow the river until they reached the truck.

They built a fire a keep warm as the temperature dropped. “You know it will reach about 30 degrees at night around here. I hope you brought some warm clothes with you,” Steve said as he stared wistfully into the fire. “Yeah, I'll be alright,” Bucky responded. Steve shifted his gaze from the fire to Bucky, “I also hope you can climb trees because that's where we'll be sleeping. Its safer than the ground since they can't climb trees.” Bucky stared at him for a moment and said, “Yeah, but I'm sure there's all different kinds out there. Ones that climb trees and fly and swim. All kinds of nasty critters.”

“Actually no. There is only one kind and they can't climb,” Steve remarked.

Looking slightly annoyed Bucky retorted, “How do you know? You don't know. Stop making up stories old man.”

“Its true. I was there when these things were created.”

“Oh. I didn't realize you were that old.”

“humph. No. I was in the army a long time ago and the government was doing experiments with all sorts of things. These monsters being one of them. I oversaw the safety aspect of the project and when things got out of hand even the army couldn't control them.”

“That's such a stupid idea. Why would you want to make dangerous animals like that. They were dead for a reason and they should stay dead.”

“ To be completely honest I'm not entirely sure myself. I just oversaw for safety reasons. They didn't tell me much because I could cause a breach in security or something. Anyway, yes, it turned out to be a stupid idea. I think they originally did it because of the wars. You know all those wars that happened shortly after 2026. They figured they would be a good secret weapon since dinosaurs have long been extinct. It's also much harder to kill the undead. I couldn't tell you how they did it though since I'm no scientist.”

“Yeah I head about them wars. I don't really read much but I do recall hearing about them. I guess them scientists weren't so smart, they should have found another secret weapon.”

Steve didn't respond, he just looked into the fire in silence. The night was eerily quiet, nothing could be heard except for the crickets chirping and the occasional crackle of the fire as the wood burned.

“Alright. I'm calling it a night,” Steve said as he stood up. He found a large tree not to far away from where they built the fire and climbed up into it about 20 feet from the ground. “About this height should be good,” Steve called down from the tree, “make sure you put that fire out before you sleep. We don't need to be burning down the whole damn forest.” Shortly after, Bucky put out the fire as he was told and climbed into a different tree and he fell asleep.

Steve was awoken the next morning by the sound of splashing in the nearby river. Steve, worried that it would be one of them, grabbed his shotgun, climbed down the tree and made his way to the river bank. It turned out it was just some deer passing through so he walked back to the camp. By the time Steve got back Bucky was awake and sitting with his back against the tree he slept in. “Let's go! I'm ready to get out of here and find that truck. I don't wanna to run anymore and the sooner we find that truck the sooner I can stop runnin' everywhere,” Bucky said enthusiastically.

“Alright, we're going to continue south and follow the river for about 5 miles. Shouldn't be too bad. We'll follow as close to the bank as possible so we will have one less side to be worried about being ambushed from.”

Bucky nodded and they started walking along the bank of the river. The river bank was lined with jagged rocks that became increasingly more slippery as the water splashed up against them. “Watch your step. Walking on these rocks is really difficult,” Steve called out, “don't lose your footing. I really don't want to go in after you.”

“Yeah, yeah old man. I'll be fi-”, Bucky was cut off abruptly.

“Bucky. Bucky?” Steve turned around and didn't see the boy. “Bucky! Where are you?” Steve yelled frantically as he searched the river with no luck. Suddenly, Steve realized that there was no splash and that could only mean one thing. They were here. Steve left the bank and moved into the woods scanning the area in hopes he would find something that would tell him where Bucky was taken.

Steve suveyed the area as closely as he could with no sign of Bucky. Just as he was about to continue toward the truck he noticed a part of Bucky's flannel shirt on the ground. When he went to pick it up he realized it wasnt just a flannel shirt, but Bucky's severed arm.

Steve knew he had to get out of the area fast. There would be a feeding frenzy and he did not want to be in the area since they might pick up on his scent. He decided to cross the river to end his scent trail but he woud continue to follow the river to the truck. He made his way to the river bank and stood on the wet rocks. He carefully scoured the opposite side of the river to make sure everything was clear. Right before he was about to jump in, he felt something hard hit him behind his knee. His legs buckled and gave way. His face hit the rock hard and his mouth began to bleed. The fall had knocked some of his teeth loose and he accidentally swallowed them in all the commotion. He looked down at his legs to see what hit him. It was exactly what he thought it was, it was one of them. He grabbed his shotgun and aimed it at the foul best releasing a shower of shells on its ugly, scaly head.

Unexpectedly, Steve felt something restraining his arms.

There were people surrounding him. A woman wearing a white coat said, “It's alright Mrs. Peterson, you may see your husband now. The medication has taken affect and he's safe to be around.” The woman in the white coat then turned to a cluster of people in scrubs and said, “It's important that he take his pills so we don't need to force them when he is in the middle of a psychotic episode.”

A tall man dressed in white who was holding down Steve's arms, looked at him and said soothingly, “Mr. Peterson, drop the mop. Everything is not what it seems. It is the year 2011, there were never any zombie dinosaurs so you could have never overseen such a project. Bucky is not a real person and you do not own a gun store. You have a distorted perception of time, it has not been days but rather minutes and you have hallucinated a few things but you will be alright. You are Steve Peterson and you use to be in the army but are now retired. This is your wife Maryann. Do you remember her? Of course you do. She visits you here everyday.”