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Smith, Jonstin and Abe made their way to the red mountains, to the fallen ship, as fast as they could. They had left Sylvia in charge, with no complaint from Jonstin. Smith looked at his son. Smith had wanted to stop Abe from coming, but after everything, he couldn’t tell his son no.
The sun had risen. They were already a few miles ahead of the others and continued at a relentless pace. Smith and Jonstin took turns carrying a large pack that had water and food. The three ate and drank as they moved, stopping only when their bodies forced them to. They didn’t speak. Smith was almost always at the front, his breathing heavy but his stride steady. He found that the more he moved, the less he thought, and the less he thought, the less the beetles seemed to appear. The more he strained his body, the less he felt. The less he noticed the dull pain in his head that seemed to move every hour. So, on he went, Abe and Jonstin following close behind.
Hours passed. The sun began to set. Smith stopped to hand the pack to Jonstin. He turned to start walking again when, suddenly, the ground in front of him was covered in the same prints that he had seen that first day. This time, however, there were dozens of them. In front of them. Behind them. On both sides. The footprints began to move, circling the three travelers. Smith closed his eyes, and then opened them again. The footprints remained, but he saw no beetles.
“Smith?” Jonstin called.
“What?” Smith tried to ignore the footprints.
“You see those prints?”
Smith paused. It wasn’t a hallucination. At least some of the insanity he’d been seeing was real. The realization lightened his mood, gave him a surge of confidence.
“Yeah, I see it.”
“And?”
“Keep moving.” Smith took a few steps forward. “Abe, you good?”
“Yeah. Pure O2.”
They slowly moved forward. Smith tried to step on the prints, but they moved before his foot touched down. He didn’t feel or see anything moving around them. No wind. No dirt being kicked up. Yet the prints began to disappear and reappear faster and faster. The three pressed forward, the circle of prints following them, neither growing nor shrinking. Smith decided to ignore the prints. Nothing he could do about them, anyway. And, whatever they were, they didn’t seem to want to harm them. He spent several minutes debating whether he should try running past the circle, but decided not to. The more they walked, the more comfortable he began to feel with the footprints.
The sun set. The sky glowed a silver-blue as the moon and stars appeared in the sky. Still, they walked. Still, the circle followed them. For Smith, the walking felt natural. As if he wouldn’t be able to stop even if he tried. His sole focus was on the simple task of reaching the mountains. He would worry about getting past them to the ship when they came to it. As long as he walked, his mind held no thoughts of the past. He put one foot in front of the other, again and again. He knew they needed to rest, so he stopped and sat down. Abe and Jonstin did the same. The circle continued to move around them.
“You two rest,” Smith said. “Jonstin, I’ll wake you up to switch in two or three hours.”
“Are we really not going to talk about—” Jonstin pointed to the circle of prints.
“What’s there to say about it?”
“I don’t know.” Jonstin tossed his hands in the air. “Like, what the hell is it? Is it a herd of invisible beasts? An illusion? One invisible animal with dozens of feet?”
“Does it matter?” Abe asked.
“What?”
“Does it matter?”
“What? Of course it matters!”
“Why?”
“It matters because we need to figure out what it is.”
Smith smiled and shook his head. He wanted to hear what his son had to say. He turned to Abe.
“I’ll admit I’m curious,” Abe said. “But how are we going to do that?”
Jonstin was silent. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.
“Right. So we could talk about what it might be, what it might mean. But I would rather sleep. Besides, we’d probably be wrong anyway.”
Jonstin shook his head. “There’s no way you’re going to fall asleep with these things walking around us.”
Abe shrugged, lay down and then closed his eyes.
A loud laugh burst from Smith. It was one of many moments that reminded Smith how much he loved his son. “He’s got a point.”
Jonstin shook his head. “There’s no way I’m falling asleep. You get some rest. I’ll keep watch.”
“Maybe.” Smith pulled two food bars out and tossed one to Jonstin.
They ate in silence. Smith looked at the stars, then at the dark clouds that still hung in the distance. They were a long way off, but Smith was sure the storm was still moving toward them. He brought his gaze back to the ground to look closer at the circling footprints. After a few minutes, he realized every footprint was identical. Same shape. Same size. Each and every one. Were the footprints connected to the beetles? Smith lay down on his side and watched the footsteps pass him by, over and over, until he fell asleep.
***
Evalee stood in front of Smith. Her eyes were wet with tears, but her lips curled in a gentle smile. Smith tried to speak, but no words came out. Evalee stood next to an open grave. She looked down into it, then back at Smith. She waved to him, turned her back to the grave and let herself fall. Smith ran to the grave and fell to his knees, staring into the hole with wet eyes. The grave had no bottom. It went on and on, swallowed up by darkness. Smith screamed and opened his eyes.
He lay on his side in the gray dirt. The sun was just cresting over the red mountains. He rubbed his eyes. The circle of prints had turned into a circle of visible creatures. He jumped to his feet and backed into the middle of the circle. They were black, dog-like. He realized they were the same as the one he had seen the night his eardrum blew. The creatures that had rushed past him, toward the deafening sound. Was he the only one seeing them, or were they real?
Abe and Jonstin stood beside him. Neither spoke. The three stared at the creatures. They were real. Smith thought something was wrong with the dogs. Their fur didn’t seem quite like fur. It looked like black smoke, gently moving along with the creatures as they ran in the circle. And there were no facial features to be seen. No nose, mouth, eyes or even ears. Whatever they were, they didn’t seem to be alive. They only resembled a living creature. But Smith thought again about that first night he had seen them, and got the feeling the creatures were not there to harm them. If they were dangerous, wouldn’t they have hurt him already?
“I’m pretty sure they’re not going to hurt us.”
“Pretty sure?” Jonstin whispered.
“Yeah.” Smith shrugged. “And even if they are going to attack and devour us alive, what can we do about it? We’re surrounded. Better to keep moving forward.”
Abe nodded. “Hell yeah.”
And they kept moving. Just as the prints had, the creatures continued to circle them while also moving along with them. After a time, they decided to run, but the creatures kept pace with them the entire day. Eventually, Abe decided that they needed to name the creatures.
“Smoke dogs,” Abe said.
“They don’t look like dogs,” Jonstin said, still nervous about their presence.
“Closest I’ve seen in real life,” Abe pointed out.
They kept walking. The sun had reached its peak and was beginning its slow descent behind them. Smith found it oddly comforting to hear his son talk about naming the creatures. It made him feel as though they would all be around for a long time. If their time on the planet was going to end soon, why bother naming things?
“I got it,” Abe announced. “Smokies.”
Abe crouched down as he walked and reached his hand out. “Isn’t that right, my little smokies?”
Smith chuckled and rolled his eyes.
“Your kid is insane, Smith.”
Abe smiled. “I got that from my mom.”
Smith slapped Abe’s back and then squeezed his shoulder.
Abe turned and gave him a bittersweet smile.
A beetle crawled across his son’s bald head, and Smith had to force himself not to slap it away. They walked the next few hours in silence.
***
The last rays of sunlight were about to dip behind the horizon. They continued to walk, though their pace had slowed significantly. The circle of smokies continued to match their speed. Smith noticed a slight trembling in the ground. He stopped walking, as did the others. A high-pitched whine screamed at them from the red mountains. The smokies squeezed tighter around the group, pushing them together until their shoulders touched. The screeching grew louder. Closer. Smith looked toward the mountains.
Dozens of lines raced along the ground, small clouds of gray dust rising above them. As they got closer, Smith realized that each line was made up of hundreds of biotech beetles. His heart pounded in his chest. He hoped it was only in his head.
“What in shit’s name are those?” Jonstin screamed.
“Ah, shit,” Smith whispered. They were real.
As if reacting to Smith’s adrenaline, the wall of smokies moved faster and faster. The black smoke that made up their bodies began to spread out, morphing into one spinning wall of black wind. The lines grew closer. Smith clenched his fists as the first beetle hit the wall with a spark and a pop. It didn’t make it past the barrier.
Soon, the screeching was replaced by a constant battery of electrical pops. It went on for what felt like hours. Abe shouted something in his dad’s ear, but Smith couldn’t make it out. Suddenly, a hole appeared in the wall next to Jonstin. The smoke filled it quickly, but not before one got through and latched onto Abe’s forearm.
He screamed and tried to swat it off, but it didn’t budge. It began to sink into his skin. A small pool of Abe’s blood squished out from beneath it.
“Dad!”
Smith grabbed his son’s shoulder with one hand and ripped the foreign insect out of his flesh. He threw it on the ground and smashed it under his boot. Abe dropped to his knees, his eyes riveted to the hole in his arm. It was an inch long, and half that across. A thin yellow line ran across the outside of the wound. His dad sat next to him and pulled a roll of bandaging out of the bag.
“Damn it,” he whispered. “No antibiotics.”
He wrapped Abe’s arm tightly and tugged it to make sure it would stay.
“You okay, son?”
“Yeah.” Abe shrugged. “Does Sylvia really think one of those made it into your brain?”
“Maybe.” Smith pushed his fingers to the back of his head. “Sure as hell hope not.” Pretty sure one’s in there right now, he thought.
The air around them began to change, a howl emanating from the wall of smokies. Smith looked up as the black air rose higher and then curved inward until they were encased in a dome of smoke. His feet trembled beneath him and he looked down to see a thin crack appear directly underneath the wall. The smoke continued to spread, this time into the ground. Somehow, Smith knew they would soon be inside a sphere of black air. The howling intensified, and the entire structure shook and moved. Upward, Smith thought. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Then, without warning, the sphere sped off, knocking the three to the ground.
“Dad?”
“Smith?”
“Abe.” Smith rolled to his side. “You all right?”
“Crisp, Dad.” Abe sat up and scooted to the curved wall. He stretched his good hand to touch the smoke.
“Abe!”
He stopped for a moment. “It’s okay,” he said.
Just as his fingers were about to touch it, the smoke parted. His hand went through unharmed. He slowly moved his hand in a bigger and bigger circle until the opening was over a foot across. With a soft grunt he moved onto his knees and peered out through the hole.
Abe gasped. “Woah.”
Smith and Jonstin looked at each other.
Smith stood up warily, realizing the sphere had carried some of the gray earth up with them. He walked to his son and looked out of the opening.
“Damn.”
They were speeding thirty feet in the air over the gray earth toward the red mountains. The wind rushed against his face and he couldn’t help but smile. He stepped back and waved Jonstin over. With a cautious nod, Jonstin shuffled over to the hole. From a distance, he peaked out for just a moment. That was all it took. With a cough, he fell to his knees and vomited onto the floating dirt.
“Jonstin!” Abe shouted, taking a step back. “And they called you a chief pilot.”
Jonstin shook his head and let himself fall onto his side. The hole in the smoke closed and the sphere began to slow.
Smith stood up, his body tense. He thought the smokies were friendly, but he had no idea what was coming. The sphere shook and settled. The smoke spanned in opposite directions until the smokies, in their dog form, were back. The three had been carried to the base of the red mountains.
Smith had imagined a hill that gradually rose to the peak, but instead what they found was a cliff that stretched thousands of feet above them. The rock was a deep red. Vines of nearly every shade of green slithered upward. Smith touched one, wondering if they could use them to climb, but pulled back when a hooked thorn caught the skin between his thumb and forefinger.
“How the hell are we supposed to get over that?” Jonstin asked.
Smith shook his head and looked to either side. If they walked one way long enough, they could probably find a safe spot to ascend. But there was no telling how long that would take. And the smokies had brought them to that particular spot. Smith had a feeling the creatures were aware they wanted to reach the other side of the mountains.
As if reading his thoughts, one walked to Smith and sat at his feet. He looked down. They really did look like dogs, but with an airy quality Smith couldn’t quite describe, as if they weren’t completely real. Slowly, he reached out a hand to let it smell him, like a real dog would. In response, the smokie turned away and walked alongside the cliff. Smith followed it about twenty feet. The creature stopped, turned to the cliff and sat.
“Abe, Jonstin,” he called. “I think we have something.”
The three stood next to the smokie, staring at the wall. For a moment, the spot looked no different than the rest of the cliffside. But then Smith noticed a section of vine that was all one shade of green. It was a dark green rectangle, the size of a large door. He stepped toward it and reached out to touch it.
“Dad,” Abe said cautiously.
“Yeah,” Smith stopped and turned toward his son.
“What the hell is going on?”
Smith chuckled. “No damn clue.”
“Okay, so we’re all on the same page,” Jonstin said.
“Yep,” Smith said. “So, are we going where these things guide us?”
Jonstin shrugged. “Let’s do it. They haven’t killed us yet.”
Abe agreed and Smith turned back to the cliff. He grabbed one of the off-colored vines. It felt cool to the touch. Some sort of metal, then. Smith gripped and pulled. The door swung open. The smokies rushed in as a group. Smith took a few cautious steps into the black opening, holding his breath. When nothing happened, he waved the other two in. They joined him. The door closed silently, and they were swallowed by darkness.
