Aisling Page 2
She stuffed the satchel into her sleeve and turned sharply. Marching from the store, her heart trembled in her chest. The shade slid between standing before her and miming pushing her forwards from behind. No one stopped her. Nobody questioned her awkward behavior as she walked quickly down the street and turned into a pathway leading southwards. Minutes ticked by without counting as they walked side by side in silence.
“See?” he whispered up at her from the grass and dust. “That was easier than you thought.”
Letting the pick satchel hang in front of her face, Jess stopped and sighed. “I’m a schizophrenic kleptomaniac.”
“You’ve stolen before – the book in first grade.”
“That wasn’t intentional!” she retorted holding the organza bag to her chest.
“Sorry.”
Jess glanced sideways at the shadow who sounded less than apologetic. “How is it safe to carry them in a satchel but not a pocket?”
“Pockets have holes.” The shade explained.
“So do satchels.” Jess pointed out opening the top and closing it in demonstration.
He folded his arms back over his chest. Idly, she wondered how no one had noticed the discrepancy between the two of them as he said, “Seriously, just humor me. I hate how distrustful humanity has gotten.”
“Talking to shadows – I’d think I’d be burned in the past. Not so distrustful, just self-preservation instincts.” She dropped the stones into the folds of pick fabric. “Hmm…”
“What?” The shadow stretched moving part way up her legs. Jumping back, she kicked one leg than the other until he returned to the sidewalk.
“I can’t describe them,” she told him.
Jess couldn’t see it, but she felt the Aisling roll his eyes, “You just noticed that now.”
“They are small…stone-like…with things carved into them…they don’t have a color or…” She struggled with the words. “They aren’t a material on earth, are they?”
“Every material in the outer dimensions exists in the core. Trust me – it’s better if you can’t describe them,” he murmured softly.
Jess hummed softly for a moment before saying, “They’re rather a bit like you, aren’t they? Are you an it? A man? A woman? No – you’re not anything. Indiscernible something nothingness.”
An eerie silence followed until the shade pushed himself from the wall and leaned towards the park. Without wasting words, Jess trudged along. Questions whizzed around her mind as she watched her shadow twist out of sync with her. Hundreds of mornings and nights floated around her mind connected only by hands against shadows. The touch reinforced the unquestionable reality there was no separation between her and the darkness cast by her presence. With another entity existing within her own, she was left only doubt to her sanity. The alley led to a side path running alongside the canal. The green murky water twisted ahead as vines loomed in from either side of her.
“Why did she have to die?” Jess asked. The words gently split the silence though did nothing for the heaviness of the air around them.
“There was no other way to sever your connection. No one could know. She was a loose end,” he dismissed. “It was unfortunate but necessary.”
His words sounded rehearsed, and with a rough exhale, he seemed to be doing little but reciting excuses he’d practiced making to himself. The corner of Jess’s lips twitched upward into a smirk when she said, “You don’t know why, do you?”
“I know enough. The Compass doesn’t give orders lightly. The safest way was for her to die. It wasn’t the first time I had done so. If we do this correctly, I won’t have to murder another soldier,” the Aisling intoned.
“Child,” Jess corrected. She had little idea how Aisling aged, but three years didn’t seem old enough to be anything else.
“Too often, they’re the same,” the shadow replied. He shrunk down to her shape only to stretch out in all directions and return to his previous figure.
Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. “They’re never the same.”
“And we’re never children.”
The houses broke the tree line as the road passing through the park rose in the distance as Jess spoke, “Everyone is a child at some point even if it ends when you’re eight, Brucey darling.”
“Computers aren’t children. Robots aren’t children. Things that are created aren’t children.” His voice remained monotone as he replied.
“We still say that technology is in its infancy,” she said after a moment of consideration. Her eyes narrowed into a glare. “Everything is young at some point.”
“We are as old as the first light. If we had an infancy, it is long over. There isn’t a tragic past for us. We are soldiers born to protect the core world. When the rest of the dimensions rebelled, the Aislings remained true. The Compass is our commander – I have killed enough of my brothers to know we were never like your children,” the shadow informed her. There was no ill will in his words. His words were a simplified reality beyond reproach.
She watched him carefully out of the corner of her eye for a moment before speaking. “We’ve got the pouch, so now what?”
“Unfortunately,” he said. “We’re going to be heading the long way around to Victor.”
“What? Why didn’t we just go to the mall? We would have been at least heading in the same direction! Seriously, if you’re some ancient genius shadow, shouldn’t you at least think of these things?” she yelled down at her feet.
“There are rules about how this must be done. There are rules about where the pouch needs to be taken and how it may be transported. No one, least of all me, believed that I would be able to hide them so long. Humanity has walked for thousands of years – tens of thousands, so for once in your incredibly spoiled life, walk the distance to get where and what you need.” The shade stretched into a taller more muscular form as if to intimidate her, but Jess wouldn’t be dismissed.
“It took an hour to get here, and you want me to walk six plus hours to somewhere in Victor! Where are we even going?” she demanded. Her eyes flickered between the shadow and the children playing at the park.
“Camp Greenwood.”
She swore colorfully and pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s at least seven hours.”
Clucking his tongue, the Aisling shrunk back into his thinner masculine form. “Then you better get walking.”
“That’s not going to happen. I’m taking a bus, thank you very much!” She stomped towards the metal sign denoting a bus stop despite the shades horrified exclamations.
“That isn’t safe!” he bellowed, chasing after her and swelling up on a nearby tree. “You’re taking unnecessary risks!”
Leaning against the metal pole, she sighed. “I want this done as soon as possible. This isn’t my fight.”
“This is everyone’s fight.”
“Yet I’m the only one doing anything,” Jess muttered before turning to check the times for the next bus. “There’ll be one in fifteen.”
“There are constantly billions of people fighting battles every day, and they’re doing it alone. You are not a victim. This modern world is beyond the imagination of any of the greatest men I have served with more conveniences than hardships for one lucky enough to be born into the right family – especially easy on this continent.” The shade shook his head condemningly.
“Oh yay, I’m a middle class citizen of the United States – I’m the luckiest girl ever.” Though she said it sardonically, guilt edged into her mind, but she was not about to pass over an hour bus ride rather than trudge thirty miles and take at least seven hours.
He slithered up the trunk. Darkness rippled against the bark when the sun stood above her. After a moment of quiet consideration, the Aisling asked, “How are you going to pay?”
Her mind went blank as she patted her pockets. Swearing, she glared at him. “I grab a knife, but I forget my wallet. I’m a freaking moron!”
After a moment, the shadow spoke again, “And you
forgot that you forgot your wallet. We’d already talked about this at the shop.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he added, “I don’t fault you for your weakness.”
“What?” she asked. Her voice tensed falling to a colder tone.
“It isn’t your fault. You weren’t meant for this. You were meant to be unimportant in a world of debt and convenience.” He nodded moving to cover the bus schedule.
Jess counted to ten. Each deep breath seemed a bellow on the fire burning at her core. “I’m weak?”
“Dreadfully so,” he informed her. “Is the next bus the one coming up the road now?”
This was where she stumbled. Jess could write a scathing letter or paint a picture of venomous disgust, but faced with an opportunity to hide, she’d rarely speak a word. Her time with the Aisling had been her cruelest. With a rush and a glance, her anger fled. Every emotion drifted away so swiftly she wasn’t sure what was real. If her eyes remained her own, the lumbering multicolored form was a bus. Whether it was their bus, Jess could only guess.
“Yes,” she replied watching the metal rectangle rumble up the road. “It’s a bit early. Not much though.” Jess glanced down at her watch then up at the bus. “Like – eight minutes.”
The white city bus covered in fast food advertisement drove steadily closer before the screech of oil-desperate breaks precluded its slowing. With a mechanical sigh of relief, its hulking behemoth’s rickety frame settled before the stop. It released a last huff of exhaust, and the door slid open revealing a tired looking man with sallow skin and white hair sprouting in tuffs at odd angles from his balding head. He wore the blue shirt and dark trousers of a transit worker, yet as the lights flickered, his shadow absorbed him before falling back to the floor.
“Where to?” he croaked and beckoned her up the stairs with a few flexes of his fingers.
“Camp Greenwood?” she stepped forward leaning against the door.
“$2.50 – though you’ll have a ten minute walk from the closest station on the run.” Cloudy white glazed over his blue eyes like a corpse hard china doll.
“I know, but I don’t have money,” she flinched, a bit certain she’d get the door shut in her face for wasting his time.
He coughed in hacking spurts before sighing. “Come on, you’re my first for this run. You look like you’ve had a tough day.”
“Seriously?” Doubt colored her words then, at his nod, the corners of her lips twisted upwards. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”
The driver nodded with a slight smile turning his eyes back to the road. Walking down the empty aisle, Jess stared downwards. She ignored the dancing shadows and willed away the grim reflections of the buzzing overhead lights. When the Aisling threw himself around the cabin, she pretended not to notice his hands reach out where her own dark reflection should have been. All she could think about was how enormous the abyss felt at her feet. Sliding into a seat, Jess pressed her head into her hands. A screech-clicked announced the door’s closure then a roar rumbled in the engine.
“We need to get away,” he whispered, climbing up her shoulder.
Jess shrugged and slid back further in the seat. Close to the window, she could see her reflection’s face. A tanned man stared back then away as if scrutinizing the bus for danger. His hair shortened before rolling back out in long thin strands of black as his skin paled to a yellow-toned tan. The man in the reflection grew burlier and became wrapped in furs. A thin scraggly beard covered his face before he shuddered leaving Jess staring at her own face once more.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
Her reflection didn’t speak and fell easily into what had been his natural state beside her. She glanced around, but no one was around except the driver. His shadow appeared normal flickering only with the light. The reflection beside her watched Jess carefully. His eyes the only bit giving him away when Jess glanced up and saw him gesture towards the driver again with his eyes. She glanced back at the driver, but nothing was obviously unusual. That was until he slowed at the next stop. Two young girls hopped onto the bus talking and laughing before sitting towards the front. As the bus pulled away, Jess noticed a foot stuck up from beyond the hill. She turned back to the girls and saw them watching her though they pretended to talk casually. Their shadows flickered beside the driver’s.
“He let them on the bus. He’s letting us all onto the bus without paying. Can Aislings control their -.” Her voice dropped in uncertainty. Her reflection shook his head. “Just tell me.”
“The girl’s crazy,” one of the girls sing-songed, playing with her long hair.
The other nodded sagely. “Mm-hm.”
Jess shifted in her seat seeking some clue to what the shade had seen. The lights flickered above the driver’s head, and her eyes caught another’s in the wind shield. It wasn’t an old man who watched in the glass. A middle aged man stared out with black leeches digging in and out of his flesh. His eye sockets were empty. Jess blinked, and the reflection was an old man again. She looked back to the girls who had fallen silent. Their shadows snaked about each other far more mature than their flesh counterparts. Jess fell back into her seat. The rigidness of her posture left as she became aware of the tension mounting between the figures on the bus.
“God, they have no idea they’re being used – do they?” Jess whispered, “They killed someone already. They did it by killing the shadow. If they can’t take control of their people…how are they going to kill me?”
“Kill you?” a voice rumbled like thunder, “Unnecessary – too messy.”
No one moved or acted as though they had heard a thing. Jess glanced at her reflection who stared beyond her at the parasite-covered Aisling. Slowly turning, she saw his long shadow across the opposite side of the bus, “You can’t touch me – and killing him won’t do shit.”
“Not attached,” it mumbled, and the girls’ shadows stretched out long and covered the back of the bus in darkness.
“Corpses have shadows,” Jess whispered. Her mind spun, but something dark and unfamiliar whispered at the back of her consciousness. “The driver’s a corpse…but the girls…” Jess glanced back at the bright young faces.
“By the Book, child!” one of the female shadows exclaimed. “Are you this dumb or just playin’?”
“He was a corpse’s shade – killed the man’s original to stay in the game. That doesn’t make your involvement make sense,” Jess retorted before the words hit her.
Her reflection glowered before returning to its previous fur-covered form, “Parasitic leeches from the Eighth. Control over infected Aisling – get off the bus, Jess.”
“The humans might think I’m schizophrenic, but they can’t hurt me,” she smiled, “Just you.”
“Ahh…she’s sadistic,” the rotting shadow purred.
“There’s a difference between sadism and indifference,” her Aisling muttered beneath its breath before turning his glower onto the girls’ shades. “He’s corrupted, but neither of you have any excuse for your actions.”
“Hmmm…” one hummed softly to the other.
“Old man croons from his porch, but he doesn't hear the rhythm no more,” the other sang back following the tune of the first’s vibrations.
“What are you two – some sort of stereotype?” Jess rolled her eyes when the two girls ahead of her heard her grumblings. Jess slammed her forehead into the heel of her palm. “Shit.”
“Are you talkin’ ‘bout us?” the elder of the two girls called from the front.
“Come on, just let the crazy girl be,” the other pleaded.
The elder girl shook her head and turned around declaring, “She’s disturbing my calm.”
The shadows giggled as their bodies’ voices drifted back into the ether of white noise. Sporadic squeaking from the wheels acted as the only interruption to the rumbling sound of approaching thunder. Jess sighed into her hand. Running her hands up and down her face, she concentrated on counting her calluses. She let them fall into h
er laps. One – two – three – four, she couldn’t each scar across her fingers. This was real. Her fingers stood – just ten. Everything she was seeing was real.
“Four Aislings.” Her eyes flicked between the shadows. “I bet if I cared more, this would be the beginning of some great cosmic joke.”
“Can’t run. Even if you could, there’s nowhere to hide. The Devil’s at the door – a murderer waits inside. You’ve survived without an Aisling before. What’s one time more?” The two girls’ Aislings spoke in unison.
“You need me, Jessica,” her reflection whispered.
A fight loomed, and Jess bunkered down. Whether she liked it or not, there wasn’t much she could do. The other Aislings couldn’t hurt her, but she was unable to do anything to stop them either. The lights flickered. She sighed glancing between the three as they slithered closer.
“I’m coming up blank on this one, Scotty,” Jess replied, patting down her pockets and continuing to fail at finding anything remotely useful to the current event.
Three shadows stretched over her, but she had no way of feeling or reacting to their presence. She pushed further back in her seat; however, her Aisling simply said, “I would say you were being purposefully obtuse, but I can never be sure with you.”
Smacking the red button, the bus screeched to a stop. There was little that she could do except remove herself from the situation. It was another example of an event in her life where importance –heroics honestly – were beyond her reach. There had been a day for heroes. Many days – but they had existed mainly in books. Rushing forth from the metallic beast, she let out a scream of frustration once the engine started up, and she was left with her shadow clinging to her feet.
“Why are you screaming?” he asked. Already, he pulled at her feet.
Jess crouched before sitting back and staring at the sky. “For once, I want to just go completely out of my mind.” Before he could retort, she added, “Not like this – not voices, murderous intent – I want a legit reason to unleash some pent up aggression – seven years of it.”
“That’s your problem. Always looking for a fight, you don’t care as long as you’re the hero. Just about any cause will do.” He scoffed from the grass at her side still tugging as if to run away. “This isn’t a war fought with fists. This is espionage and dodging behind enemy lines. You won’t earn a medal or a byline in the morning post.” With a sigh, he settled beside her. “Jessica, you can’t fight everything in your life with fists.”