Manuscript: Wayside, Chapter 5

“Wake up, Desert Mouse!” The Finder called Lee shouted as he kicked Grim in the foot. “Unless you want to get left behind.”

Grim had clearly slept like the dead, for all four men were already packed up and any evidence of the fire they had constructed the night before was entirely gone. Grim rubbed his blurry eyes and sat up. Osborne looked off into the black distance with a brass spyglass that was out of place with his uniform and rifle.

“Will we make it to Wayside today?” Grim asked, gathering his borrowed blankets and shaking them free of dust.

“Probably,” said Osborne, “if you get your shoes on. Do you remember your name?”

“Pardon?” Grim wasn’t sure he had heard the question right.

“Your name,” Osborne prompted. “Do you know what your name is?”

“Y…yeah? Grim Munroe.”

Osborne nodded his satisfaction. “Alright then, off we go.”

The team set a fast pace, and Grim had to occasionally rush to catch up. It might have been just his imagination, but the soft glow that Wayside cast into the inky sky did seem rather brighter today and the anticipation of reaching the city lightened Grim’s steps and loosened his tongue. He wanted to know some things before he got to the city.

“So, why’d you ask me if I remembered my name this morning?”

“The Wastes.” Osborne answered without hesitation. “They drain memories. Anyone who stays in the Wastes longer than a few days, especially alone, risks forgetting everything -- their name, their family, how to read and write. Everything.”

“Really? Why does it do that?” asked Grim.

“It just does. Even in Wayside we get some of the effect, but the city is definitely safer. That’s why you’ve got to share your story with the Council when we get back. Well, and so the Foundling Society can find your family and get you back home,” said Osborne.

Grim thought about this for a moment, and decided to remain quiet on that particular topic. It probably wasn’t the best time to mention that he wasn’t interested in going back home. Certainly not yet, anyway.

“So what’s Wayside like then?”

“Well, you’ll see for yourself what it looks like. Suffice to say it’s divided into several wards, which are also managed by the members of the Council. People there are just like people back in your world. Some of them are dead, of course, but mostly it’s the same.”

“They’re dead?”

“Hmm?” Osborne looked back at Grim. “Ah, yes. Some of the Lost stay that way after they die. They usually stick around in Wayside. It’s...a little complicated.”

“Sir?” Prith jogged up to match pace with Osborne. “Someone should share.”

“Oh yes,” Osborne nodded. “Hey, Murphy!” Osborne waved the red-headed man over. “I think it’s your turn to share today.”

“Golden!” Murphy shouted from the front.

Osborne nodded to Grim. “Pay close attention to what he says. It’s important to try to remember.”

Murphy trotted up closer to Grim, his newest audience member. “Ready?” He said, punching Grim on the shoulder.

“Um. I guess so?” Grim rubbed his arm.

Murphy cleared his throat and addressed the group in a loud dramatic voice. His speech was practiced, and metered.

“My name is Murphy Dominick Emanuel Fish. My father was Edward Dominick Gregory Fish, a pig farmer from County Cork. My mother was Emma Marie Fish and was also a pig farmer by way of my father. I was born October 18th, in the year 1930. I was Lost at sea in July of 1949 when the cargo ship I was traveling on from Ireland to New York capsized in the Atlantic...”

Murphy went on for a good fifteen minutes, telling the group all kinds of personal historical facts, some of which made Grim blush with their honesty. Grim found it strange that Murphy, who looked no more than twenty-two, mentioned in his tale that he barely missed serving in World War II. He claimed it had ended just before his sixteenth birthday, which would make him nearly seventy. Murphy waxed on about a particular love interest he had courted during a trip to Dublin and, at last, wrapped up his story with a flourish.

“And that’s probably enough for today. Don’t want the boy’s head to explode.” Murphy coughed took a swig from his canteen.

Osborne shook his head. “Your memory always astounds me, Murphy. Especially when it comes to women.”

Murphy put a hand to his heart. “I loved every one of them. Some on multiple occasions. Ow!” Murphy flinched as Lee slapped him on the back of the head.

“So you share stories with each other to...keep from forgetting them?”

“That’s right,” Osborne replied.

“And what happens if you do forget?”

Grim’s question hung in the air a moment Osborne finally answered. “We call those people Forgotten. All they have left is emotions, usually the bad ones. Drives them insane. They usually run off into the Wastes and we don’t see them again.”

“Usually,” Prith added.

“Which is why when we get to Wayside, you tell your story. We trade memories for a lot of things in Wayside. You’ll get the hang of it.” Osborne smiled at Grim.

“Oy, Commander.” Murphy was back in the front of the group, and whistled for Osborne. He pointed off to the group’s right. Grim could see a tall hill covered in brown that he hadn’t noticed a moment ago.

“Draugh mound, yeah?” Murphy lifted his rifle and peered through the sight.

“Looks like,” said Osborne.

“Should we check it?” Murphy looked excited.

“It means we’ll probably have to camp tonight. We won’t make it to the city by evening if we have to deal with a Draugh or pick up any more hitchhikers.”

Murphy looked at Osborne with puppy-dog eyes.

Osborne sighed. “But yes. Of course we should check it.”

“Sorry. What’s a Draugh?” Grim said, so that both the men in front could hear.

Well, with any luck, you’ll see.” Murphy grinned like a fox and started off towards the mound.

Osborne joined the rest of the group and let Murphy jog on ahead. “Now,” Osborne said as he reached Grim. “When we get to the mound, Prith and Murphy will go in ahead and make sure it’s secure before we follow. Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine.”

“Right...” Grim wondered why they took the risk to go exploring when they were close enough to reach Wayside today if they avoided any more distractions. He was tired of the Wastes.

The mound loomed ahead. It was a few stories tall, a pile of brown earth. Parched grass crawled over it, as if nature had made an attempt at giving it some life before cutting its losses. Only a small hole, large enough just for a grown man to crawl in, revealed it to be more than just a heap of dirt and reeds.

Murphy looked like a school boy on a field trip as he rushed up to the hole. Osborne and Lee hung back with Grim as Murphy and Prith shimmied into the hillside. After the two had vanished, Lee addressed Osborne.

“That pup’s still too reckless.”

Osborne smiled. “Murphy’s just young. Don’t you remember being young?”

“No.” Lee grunted. “I was born old.”

In his own weird way, Lee sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but Grim wasn’t entirely sure.

“Still,” Osborne rubbed his chin. “You’re right. He could use some more discipline. I’ll have a chat with him when we get back.”

“Where are you from, Mister Feng?” Grim interrupted. He liked Murphy and didn’t want to see him get in trouble.

Lee narrowed his eyes and grunted, “Kentucky.”

A whistle from inside the cave signaled that Murphy and Prith had deemed it safe. Osborne and Lee led Grim to the entrance and flanked him as they maneuvered through the tunnel. It was dark and smelled of soil and water. Grim thought it wasn’t altogether a bad smell.

The tunnel bent downward about five feet in, then quickly opened into a large chamber, one that appeared to fill the inside of the hill. Grim imagined that the whole thing was hollow, like a giant eggshell. Torches lit the chamber, cutting deep swaths of shadow in the rough ceiling. Murphy and Prith stood near the center of the room and between them was a little boy. His light blond hair was tousled and his blue eyes were fixed forward.

“Doesn’t appear to be any Draugh about, unfortunately. Such a shame,” Murphy sighed. “But hey, we did find this little nip. Looks to be scared shitless though, or otherwise he’s already Forgotten. He hasn’t spoken a word. Won’t even look at us.” The boy was slight and no older than eight; He was tense and shaking.

Osborne approached him and knelt down. “Ay, lad.” The boy did not react. “Do you know your name?”

“Babel, Commander?” Prith suggested.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Osborne leaned in next to the boy’s ear and whispered. “Know.” The boy didn’t move, but strained his eyes as if attempting to.

“Can you hear me?” Osborne shouted. The boy did not respond. Osborne scratched his scruffy chin again. “I don’t think he’s Forgotten.” He stood and began to scan the chamber. “Looks more like he’s in shock or...enthralled.”

“And who would he be the thrall of?” Murphy spread his arms in frustration. “There’s nothing here.”

The group searched the room for some key to the boy’s paralysis. There were old crumbled bones strewn about, and pitted copper ornaments and broken earthenware riddled the chamber. Nothing particularly stood out as strange.

Grim picked up a dusty bit of chipped clay and fingered it. It was gray and boring. He tossed it aside and grunted as a pebble fell from the ceiling and thumped him on the head. He looked up.

For a moment he thought he might be seeing things. The shadows in the chamber moved. They swirled and gathered and coalesced into something huge and black.

Grim tapped Osborne on the shoulder.

“Um...Mr. Osborne?”

“Charlie.”

“Right. Charlie. Uh, there’s something...big, on the ceiling.”

The party looked up as a unit and without warning the little boy in the center of the room let out an ear-splitting shriek. He grabbed his head and clenched his eyes shut and his knees buckled.

The massive black shape dropped free from the ceiling and whirled in the air. It slammed onto the ground, knocking everyone off their feet and then slithered like quicksilver to engulf the small boy. The beast roared and the boy shrieked and the two sounds created a hideous harmony. Grim could see the child writhing inside the dark silhouette of the creature. The black shadow-mass swirled around him and through him and the boy lifted his head amidst it; his eyes were clouded and dark, no longer his own. The child’s face screwed up in rage. He let out another cry and the monster roared in symphony.

“Run, run, run!” shouted Osborne, grabbing Grim by the arm as he rushed for the hole in the earth. The rest of team didn’t need to be told twice. Murphy fired a shot to distract the monster.

“No, no! Don’t shoot at him, just run.” Osborne admonished.

They all scrambled for the entrance. The creature-boy flailed its massive black arms around the cave. It crashed into walls and ceiling, but managed to miss the group.

Grim’s heart raced as he scuttled through the passage. He could hear the others ahead of him and knew that the monster must be just behind. The passageway narrowed, and Grim squirmed through and up. The light from the Wastes was just ahead.

There was a roar from behind him. He had almost reached the light when the hill exploded around him. He was thrown forward, rocks and earth showered down onto him and the world rushed away.

The beast burst through the ground, a breath’s pace behind the Finders. Osborne had just cleared the entrance and looked around to make sure everyone was out. He didn’t see Grim.

“Oy! Everyone look for Grim!”

“We’re a little busy, Oz!” The beast was bounding between the men. He took a swipe at Murphy and the impact sent him skidding twenty yards; a trail of dust marked his trajectory. The monster whirled around liquidly to face Prith.

Grim moaned, and the pile of rocks that covered him was pushed away. Osborne grabbed him by the waist and pulled him up. Grim snapped to consciousness and squirmed in Osborne’s grip, throwing wild fists.

“Steady! Steady!” Osborne cried. Grim looked around in confusion and suddenly remembered what was happening. Osborne set him down.

“Ok?” Osborne said, holding Grim’s head and looking at his pupils.

“Y..yeah. Fine.” Grim rubbed his jaw.

Osborne stood and scanned the horizon. He spotted something and blinked his eyes. “Ha! That’s a stroke of luck.” Grim followed his gaze. There was something white in the distance; it was too small to be a city, too large to be a person. Osborne shouted at the group to follow him and he raced towards the object.

The boy-monster bounded, and Prith juked sideways to avoid it. It shrieked as it tumbled beyond Prith, skidding to a halt. Prith gained his footing and sprinted back to the group. The beast stood but stumbled again as it turned. The shadows surrounding the captive boy briefly dissipated and his eyes darted around wildly as if suddenly under his own faculties. He opened his mouth to shout but the shadows engulfed him before he made a sound.

The party ran through the wastes and the beast followed. Grim was sure it would catch them. It was, after all, much larger than they were. Just as it was catching up to the group, the white thing came into focus. It was scattered group of wagons, covered in white cloth. There were dozens of people around the wagons and as they spotted the fleeing group, they stood and raced forward to meet them.

Grim and the Finders rushed past the men from the wagons. They were swarthy and dressed in piecemeal garments of clashing colors. As the creature approached, the wagon-group spread out to surround him. The monster rushed one of them, but the man it charged melted away as its claw crashed down.

The group jeered and taunting the creature with wordless shouts. Slowly they converged, tightened the circle. The creature thrashed and flailed its arms and cried out in frustration as each of its prey shifted just out of its reach each time it attacked.

At last, as each of the strangers stood nearly shoulder to shoulder and the creature had almost no room to move, it reared up and gave a dissonant howl. The double-shriek faded to the single cry of the child as the black mass arched into the air, then burst into formlessness. The dwindling shadows slithered back to the mound.

The blond boy wobbled for a moment. He looked around at the men who surrounded him and reached out a hand. He staggered forward, but as he met the man in front of him, his eyes rolled back, his face paled and he collapsed.