Chapter 6 #4
At first, his mind couldn’t compute what he was seeing coming from the trees. It felt like a fever dream.
Animals. Dozens and dozens of animals. Deer, both does and bucks.
Elk, their hair thick around their necks and chests.
At least ten mountain goats, their bodies white and muscular, black horns protruding from their heads.
Squirrels. Chipmunks. Coyotes. Cougars. A trio of black bears, one larger than the other two.
Cattle. Horses. Lizards. Snakes. Voles. Varieties of birds flying above them, some tiny, some with wingspans of at least ten feet, all flying awkwardly, almost floating, as if they too felt the change in gravity.
As the people watched, the animals began to walk in a wide circle.
It was only then Don saw similar circles in the fields around the house.
“It started a week ago,” Jerri said as the animals moved slowly.
“First, it was just deer. Same time every night. They’d appear, walk in a circle for a while, and then disappear.
Three days ago, the birds came with them.
Two days ago, the elk, the goats, the wild horses.
The bears are new. Haven’t seen them before.
I wondered if the predators would only see prey, but so far, that hasn’t been the case. ”
“What are they doing?” Rodney whispered.
“They know,” Jerri said. “They might not know what they know, but they know something.” She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “What do you think humanity’s legacy will be?”
“Why does it matter?” Rodney asked. “There won’t be anyone left to remember it.”
“Rodney,” Don said, mortified. “You can’t just—”
“He’s right,” Jerri said, clear-eyed. “It’ll all be gone. No one will remember what we did here. No one will remember all the good and terrible things people did.” She laughed.
“Do we live to be remembered?” Don asked. “Or do we live to live?”
“Is there a difference in the end?” Jerri asked.
“We’re not all bad,” Rodney said.
“Of course not,” Jerri said. “But those of us who are tend to be the loudest. And much of the rest choose to ignore them, pretending they don’t exist. They want to believe we’re part of some exceptional utopia rather than reality.
No, our legacy—if that’s what it can be called—is a lie.
Humanity grew through the destruction of others, of the land, the animals, the people.
Sometimes, I wonder if we’re the disease, and this is just the universe’s way of inoculating against further infection.
It’s the only way I can rationalize this. ”
Don hadn’t thought much of the idea of legacy in a long time.
Any and all hope for such things had fallen apart a decade before, when the phone had rung on a winter afternoon.
He hated how much he’d been expecting that call.
For years, he wondered every time he picked up the phone if this was going to be the news they’d been dreading, the news that felt like it was inevitable. It never was until it was.
“I don’t know that we deserve to be remembered,” Jerri said.
“But then there’s a part of me, a big part, a human part, that says I’m wrong.
That even with all our faults, we did something special.
We were something extraordinary. Of all the chances in the universe, what’s the likelihood that we’d have survived long enough to learn to love and hate?
It’s minuscule. Of course it is. If it wasn’t, we’d have found others long ago.
And now, another minuscule chance has happened. ”
“One in a trillion,” Rodney murmured.
“Exactly,” Jerri said, startling them both when she clapped her hands.
“Luck,” Don said. “Rotten, shitty luck.”
Jerri laughed. “It is. So much. But here we are, strangers who never would have met. Maybe that’s what the point of all of this was. To have these random moments of collision, to learn from each other, to hear stories.”
“To live,” Rodney said.
Jerri looked back out at the animals. “I suppose you’re right.
And you gotta admit, the universe is hysterically funny.
Why the hell else would I stumble upon two random white men at the end?
Maybe it means something. Or maybe it means nothing at all.
I think … I think I’m okay with that.” Then she frowned. “Huh. That’s never happened before.”
Don and Rodney looked back out to the field. The animals had stopped moving. They still stood in a circle—at least a hundred of them in all—but they didn’t move. Even the birds had landed. A fat crow stood on the horns of one of the elk.
Every single animal had their face turned up toward the sky.
“It’s coming,” Jerri said. “For better or worse, it’s coming.” She turned to look at them with dark eyes. Behind her, the animals stood stock-still, staring up at the moon. “We should get you two on the road.”
She gave them her truck, saying again she no longer had need of it. She had what she wanted: a roof over her head, and Naks by her side.
“You could go with us,” Don said. There wouldn’t be much room, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind without a vehicle.
“Nah,” she told them. “I’m where I’m supposed to be. We’ll wait here.”
She loaded them up with supplies, enough to last for a few days.
No one said that there wouldn’t be anything in a few days, but they didn’t need to.
They knew. Water, dried meat, fruit. She even put five cinder blocks in the bed of the truck.
“Just in case gravity decides to play a few more tricks. Should keep you grounded. Though, I suppose if the whole truck starts to float, it won’t matter much. ”
By then, it was nearing midnight, and though neither of them liked to drive at night, they were past such things now. Either they’d get on the road now, or they never would.
As they stood in front of the truck, Jerri said, “In movies, black holes sometimes lead to other places. A rip in space and time, sending you from one corner of the universe to another. Maybe that’s what’ll happen to us.
Maybe we’ll float away and when we wake up, everything will be the same, but different.
A new sun, maybe blue. Constellations we’ve never seen before. I think that would be amazing.”
“Thank you,” Rodney said, taking her hand in his. “Thank you for helping us. You didn’t have to.”
She squeezed his hand as she chuckled. “I know I didn’t.
But everyone needs help, sometimes. Careful with the truck.
Keep it below sixty if you can. She doesn’t like going faster than that.
” Then she moved to Don. She stood in front of him for a moment, studying him. Then, “What’s at Copper Mountain?”
Don said, “Absolution.”
She nodded. “You might not make it all the way in the truck. Careful of the snowpack. Snow in the Cascades is like cement. You have a map?”
“We do,” Don said.
She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before stepping back. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. It must be something important.”
“It is,” Rodney said. “More than you know.”
Jerri smiled at them. “Then I wish you all the best.”
They drove down the driveway. In the side mirror, Don saw Jerri waving, Naks sitting beside her. He thrust his arm out the window and waved back.
Rodney pointed the truck west.