The scenic vista before us no longer brings the sense of wonder that it once did. Too much in recent days has dulled my senses. Still, though, I watch a raptor glide overhead, far above us, removed from the ground-shattering chaos of our world. And maybe that’s the key, I wonder. To break free of the landscape, even for a moment.
“Sis! Look there.”
“Where? Those mountains?”
“No, in front of us.”
Her gaze follows my pointed finger. “At what? There’s only a few feet of dirt before the ground drops off!”
“Exactly. That’s where we go. Past the dirt.”
Sharon looks at me, her expression a parody of bewilderment which would be amusing if the situation weren’t so dire.
“Listen, Laura, I know we’re pretty much out of options here, but… snuffing ourselves? This isn’t your best scheme.”
I gesture again towards the sharp line ahead of us, the scenery beyond it hazy from the distance. Desperation warring with a crazy hope. “Will we? Die, I mean. You’ve seen what I’ve seen; we’ve both read the reports. This cataclysm has been scrambling everything around us, faster and faster. Hills disappearing, mountains appearing, rivers re-routed. Who knows? We might get lucky and be buffeted by some ground eruption and tossed far away from here, a splashdown into a lake.”
“No! We might go splat right down there! Or we might fall forever into some newly-opened chasm. Heights scare me, and depths even more!”
A deep roar, primal and rumbling and shaking us to the bones, rolls over us. I point over my shoulder in that direction, my hand shaking.
“Do you want to stay here and face that? We know where that choice leads! I had to watch Dave… he… dammit! I’d rather take my chances with Mother Nature pitching a full-out fit than with… that thing.”
Sharon, who always would ultimately go along with my wild schemes, has no answer as she stares at me again, mouth moving but no words coming out. I’ve never seen her quite so at a loss for action; this cracking of our world has shaken us both, but she now seems to be far beyond frightened. Likely doubting what little sanity I have left. I can’t blame her.
The ear-shattering roar sounds again, much closer, and a stench hinting at rot and sulphur slaps us. Coupled with the roar is a growing rumble from ahead of us, beyond the edge of our vantage point. The pebbles on the ground by our feet dance wildly.
I snap out of my grief over my husband. Hell of a choice here, but I make it.
“Now or never, kiddo. We go. Together.”
I grab my sister’s hand and pull her towards the cliff edge with me. She nods slowly in my direction. Then we jump.
Climbing. Forever. That’s how it appeared. He paused in his efforts, to look up. The dark cliff he found himself on felt far too smooth for his comfort, his grip at no time inspiring any confidence. Up, though, was the only option. Downwards was death, and he struggled to not look anywhere in the general direction. Even outward, away from the face that he clung to, was unnerving; shifting dark shapes, too large to resolve, loomed nearby and watched. The whistling of distant activity buffeted him. He twitched one antenna in distress, and moved another foot forward.
It had never been the plan, to simply disappear. She had hoped that there could be a discussion, an exchange, even a yelling contest if necessary. However, as she pulled the porch door closed behind her, she realized that words could no longer bridge the gap between her and her mother. Familial devotion had crumbled, and self-care now was the priority. Now was the time to leave. With any luck, later would be the time to revisit the gap.
“Robert?” Jeremy leaned against the corner of the shed. The back yard that his brother was so fond of tending to, the shrubs and flowering bushes and fruit trees, muffled itself in the fading twilight. Dandelions shone despite the deepening shadows, and seeing them made Jeremy pause. Robert had an intense dislike of the sunny weeds and was fastidious about uprooting them at the earliest appearance. The veritable carpet of those yellow flowers now spreading across the yard went against what Jeremy knew to be a hard tenet of his brother’s. With a growing unease, he straightened up and cautiously walked behind the shed.
