The Lilies

Tom scratched his head then sighed as he saw the scabs and blood piled beneath his fingernails. He needed to stop scratching that spot. Every time nervousness struck, his fingers crept up and scratched away until his skin became mushy. The clan hadn’t noticed the perpetual wound thanks to his long, scraggly hair, but he worried that they would eventually. He was their leader, and leaders didn’t bleed by any hand, not even their own. Blood, wounds, nervous tics, any sign of weakness, any at all would surely dissolve what scrap of hope the clan had managed to preserve throughout the years. He adjusted the backpack hanging from his shoulders and checked that the single small shoe he had placed inside was still there before resuming his journey through the Forest.

He puffed out white breaths as he trampled over dirt and frost. The further he journeyed, the thicker and taller the trees became. Soon, the trees stood as wide as skyscrapers and soared up into the canopy of fog that hung beneath the ever-gray sky. Something dimmed a little within his heart as he thought back to the days when skyscrapers had stood just as tall, just as glorious. 

Decades ago, the Nuclear Ending had transformed all of Earth, from the land to the sky. Tom still remembered the stench of burning flesh that had hit him as he and the other survivors had stepped out of their shelters. They had all stared at the black wasteland the Ending had left behind before setting out into the new unknown. From then on, they and Earth had rebuilt themselves slowly. They by cobbling together a new life out of scraps and debris. Earth by nurturing new trees and even some grass. 

But fruits and vegetables refused to grow in Earth’s tainted soil no matter what anyone did, and most animals had died along with the soil. Hunger constantly plagued the clan as a result, and it was that very hunger that had driven Tom to stumble high and deep into the Forest a year ago. He had been searching for something–anything–to eat. He couldn’t accept that he and the others had survived this long just to shrivel up and die from starvation! 

And that was when he had found it. 

The key. 

The key had been suspended in the middle of the air, hanging from nothing in a circular clearing in the woods. It was heavy and rusted, obviously something that had survived the bombings. The keyhole had been suspended next to it, black and empty. 

The Ending had permanently disfigured Earth, so Tom had come across many strange and surreal sights by then and had even encountered a few mutated reptiles and bugs. But the key and the keyhole had been unique even for his standards. Desperation had overridden fear and convinced him to grab the key and shove it into the keyhole. Recklessness, which had burst out of his hunger, had pushed him to turn the key. And in the year that had passed since then, he had traveled into the Forest and turned the key dozens of times. 

He pulled out the key from the safety of his deepest pocket and stepped up to the keyhole. He inserted the key and turned it. A click sounded before the keyhole disappeared. A large, square opening appeared before him as if an invisible slat had slid up. He stepped into the other world which had opened. The square shrank and reformed into the black keyhole behind him, locking away Earth. He returned the key to his pocket.

The sky was blue here in this other world. The sun was gentle and bright. He shivered as the shallow, warm water in which he stood thawed his legs. Flat, green land stretched on into the distance. Large terraces of land descended infinitely to his right. Clear pools of water segmented all of the land much like rice paddies of old, and the water from the flat land ran continuously down the descending terraces in rivulets. Red water lilies bloomed in each of the pools, making the waters blush. Tom focused on a ring of lilies nearby to avoid looking to his left. There stood the one blemish marring the beauty of this world. He called it “the House.” The House was an enormous cement cube with an empty rectangle that formed its single entrance. Darkness possessed its interior. 

He checked again that the small shoe was still inside his backpack then waded across the waters. He stopped at a pool in which so many lilies had bloomed that their red bodies hid the pool’s surface entirely. Satisfied, he knelt down, dug his hand into the muddy floor, and eased his fingers into a web of roots. With a swift upward motion, he uprooted one of the lilies. He held up the tangle of roots as the lily dangled upside down. The lily began to pulse like a heart freshly torn from a body. The whole plant shuddered, and everything, from its petals to its roots, dissolved as if doused in acid. A fat pouch appeared in his hand. 

He opened it and smiled as he saw that it was filled with rice. He placed the pouch inside his backpack and continued uprooting lilies. Some yielded pouches. Others didn’t. But each pouch he found was full of some sort of food that had long ago disappeared from Earth. He plucked a quarter of the pool’s lilies then stood up and shifted the weight of his backpack, which was now heavy with food. After weeks of surviving on nothing but stale crackers they had found in the remains of a fallen building, the clan would finally eat a real meal tonight.

Tom dared not indulge in his joy, though. There were only so many of Earth’s buildings that the clan hadn’t picked clean throughout the decades, and they dared not wander too far from the stream at the foot of the Forest where they now camped. The stream was the only fresh water they had, maybe the only fresh water left on Earth. What would they do when they could no longer find the canned and vacuum-packed foods they had relied on for so long? What would they do when they ran out completely? Tom scratched away at his head again before forcing his hand back down to his side.

If only he could bring everyone here to this other world, this one blessing the Ending’s nuclear wounds had left behind. The lilies always regrew along with their pouches. The water was always fresh. Life would be so much easier here. Hope would be possible here. 

Tom hesitated then looked at the entrance of the House. Two round, lidless eyes stared back at him from the darkness within. He reached into his backpack, took out the small shoe, and held it up. The eyes disappeared. A long, black tendril reached out of the darkness and stretched toward him. It lifted the shoe out of his hand then slid back into the House. The eyes reappeared, their pupils now pinpricks.

“Ah,” the creature crooned. “Delicious. Thank you for bringing it.”

This creature. If only this creature didn’t exist! It loved the taste of human flesh. When Tom had first stumbled into this world, it had taken a chunk of his arm. He had barely managed to escape but not before noticing how much it had liked eating his jacket. Desperate, he had dared to propose a deal. He would bring the creature more flesh-scented things if it would allow him to enter this world and harvest more lilies. It had taken some haggling because the creature had craved the rest of his body. But in the end, Tom had convinced it that killing him would cut off its access to all the clothes and shoes he would bring. 

The greedy bastard had forbidden him from bringing others to help him harvest, though. It fed on the blood-red petals of the lilies, and like a dragon guarding its gold, it hoarded its infinite supply of food. Tom had run through a million ideas on how to kill the creature, but it was no use. The Ending had destroyed all guns and bombs. He and his clan didn’t stand a chance against this massive creature. So, he had come alone for the past year whenever the clan’s scavenging had yielded far too little for far too long, and the monster had upheld its end of the deal and let him harvest. 

But Tom knew that their shaky truce teetered on the verge of breaking. More and more, he found himself empty-handed after combing through buildings. More and more, he found himself sneaking into the tents of his clansmen and stealing what little clothes they had left. He despised himself each time he had to steal from a child. The creature loved children’s shoes in particular. 

To make matters worse, Falcon, one of the orphaned teenagers, had caught him while he’d been snooping. He had been crouched down on all fours, rummaging through bags, then looked up to find her staring at him in disbelief. Her little brother was probably the reason she had maintained her silence afterward and settled for watching Tom carefully instead. She was a sharp, spunky girl with an uncanny ability to dig up food and supplies out of nowhere. But even she needed the pouches Tom brought back if she wanted to keep her brother alive. 

He turned aside and started walking back toward the keyhole. 

“Not so fast, my friend.” A tendril slithered out of the House again and swayed in front of him like a wagging finger. “I have a request.”

“A request?” said Tom. He hid the fear that jumped up within his chest. The creature asked for certain items once in a while, but instinct told him today’s request would be different.

“Yes. It’s been a full year that you’ve been bringing me these delicacies. But, well, I must confess that I still think about your arm from time to time. Oh! I didn’t mean to imply anything,” it said as Tom took a step back. “It’s just, well, one does tire of appetizers after a while. Why don’t you bring me some real flesh next time? A whole human would be–”

“No,” said Tom. He turned around fully to face the House. “No real flesh. Just things that smell like it. That was the deal.”

“Yes, but much time has passed since we made our little deal.” 

Tom stiffened as the tendril slid up and hovered next to his head. He flinched as it jabbed the spot where he had scratched. Blood trickled down his neck as the tendril withdrew into the House. The creature slurped. 

“I am tired of all the teasing you do with these flesh-scented things. I want the real thing now. If you don’t comply then, well, it’s been pleasant, but I’m sure you’ll be better as a meal than as company. In fact, I know you will be. Like I said, I was never quite able to forget the taste of your arm.”

Tom hated himself for trembling. He maintained a stoic expression, though, as he resumed his walk back toward the keyhole. The clan’s survival depended on every word he said from this moment on, and he had to feign indifference if he wanted to haggle successfully. 

“And who will bring you your delicacies if I stop coming?” he asked.

“Oh, now, don’t start bluffing. I know how much you love the lilies.”

“True. But you should also know that my clan and I would rather die than sacrifice our own. We’ve suffered much, but we will not suffer that.” He paused then told it the truth. “There’s not enough of us to do that. Because you’ll want more flesh next time too, won’t you? You’ll always want human flesh from now on. Which means that this is the last time you’ll see me.”

He continued walking at a steady pace as behind him, the creature stepped out of the House. Small waves of water swelled and rolled past Tom’s legs. The creature’s shadow overtook him, covering him like a great, black net. The thing meant business if it was leaving the safety of the House to talk to him. Its black tendrils, along with the rest of its body, faded and slowed if it remained in the sunlight for too long. Had Tom succeeded in turning the creature away from its desire for fresh meat? Was it braving the sun to negotiate an alternative? Or had it simply decided to eat him here and now? He swallowed as he came to a stop in front of the keyhole. 

“Every year, then,” the creature rumbled. “Every year, you bring me a human. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve had a taste of you, after all. One living human to buy you one year of harvest. That’s more than fair, is it not?”

Tom remained silent as he inserted the key. He despised the panic fueling the rapid pounding of his heart. He racked his brains to try and come up with some kind of argument for a better deal. He couldn’t possibly agree to this bloodthirsty plan. He had to think of another way! But all he managed to do was suppress his nausea as he turned the key. 

“It seems we have a deal, then,” the creature said with a grin in its voice. “And–oh! Do make sure it’s young flesh. The younger, the better.”

Tom stepped out of the warm sunlight and back onto cold Earth. The square opening shrank back into the black keyhole and locked the lilies away from sight. He returned the key to his pocket and wiped the blood from his neck. He stood for several minutes, still shaking, before making his way back to camp. 

The clan cheered as he distributed the pouches. Everyone had long ago stopped asking where he found the food. He kept the secret to himself, fearing the recklessness and greed the lilies might awaken in his desperate clansmen. He handed a pouch to Falcon. She glared at him before snatching it out of his hand. He couldn’t help but stare at her younger brother as she ran back to him. The boy’s name was Robert, but everyone called him Rocky. He was only six, the youngest in the clan. 

Easy to overpower. Easy to steal. 

Tom looked away, horrified with himself. 

The pouches lasted several weeks. When they ran out, Tom and the others pawed through endless debris. When that yielded nothing, they ventured far out into the wasteland only to return a week later to their camp by the stream, exhausted and hungrier than ever before. Nobody complained, but Tom saw what haunted their vacant eyes. It was the same thought haunting him. The thought that they had finally reached the end of the line. 

He forced his focus onto the ground whenever he passed Rocky. Each time one of his clansmen collapsed from exhaustion, he reined in his thoughts of grabbing the boy. His gaze would wander toward the Forest before he would grit his teeth and look away again. But as more of the clan curled up and stopped moving except to breathe, the strength he used to war with himself withered. Hunger carved away at his insides as one day bled into another. The last time he had been this hungry had been the day he had harvested his first lily. 

He stumbled and fell to the ground. Several clansmen yelped and rushed forward to help him. But with that one mistake, he felt the morale of the whole clan drop and shatter. 

By sunset, one of them had died. 

By nightfall, he had made up his mind.

He rose early in the morning before the others. He found Rocky alone, drawing in the dirt with a rusted pipe. He stared at the boy for several moments before approaching him.

“Rocky,” he said.

The boy jumped at the sight of him. 

“Y-Yes, sir?” he said, standing straight-backed. 

“What are you doing here? Where’s your sister?”

Irritation scrunched up Rocky’s face. It was endearing how he betrayed his emotions so easily. Only youth allowed that kind of honesty. 

“She’s mad at me, so I came out here,” he muttered. 

Tom stopped his hand as it climbed up to scratch his head. 

“I see. Would you mind coming with me, then? I need help with something.”

“Of course, sir,” Rocky replied, straightening his back so much that he seemed in danger of snapping in two. 

He followed Tom without another word. They went up into the Forest together. Tom marched on, ignoring Rocky as he huffed and puffed to keep up with him. If he slowed down, he would lose his nerve. If he lost his nerve, the clan would starve to death. Damn that Falcon, though. What kind of sister was she, leaving Rocky so alone and vulnerable? Why hadn’t she taught the boy to be more suspecting of others? More suspecting of him? She had seen him stealing! Why hadn’t she warned Rocky about Tom, their cowardly, thieving leader?

Rocky slipped on a patch of ice. Tom caught him before he fell. Rocky’s skin was cold within his grasp, and he was shivering so much that his whole body rattled like a twig in the wind. Yet, he hadn’t voiced a single complaint about the cold. Tom took off his jacket and gave it to him. Second thoughts began eroding his determination as Rocky hurried to pull on the jacket. Maybe it would be better to turn back. Maybe it was time to let go of the lilies. The clan was bound to find some food sooner or later. There had to be something left out there. There had to be! 

But even as he strove to convince himself that this lie was the truth, his feet resumed their march forward. By the time they reached the keyhole, Tom was shaking from hunger and the cold. But more than anything, he was shaking from dread. Rocky gasped as Tom unlocked the other world. The lilies, red and ripe, greeted them. 

And there stood the House.

Had it really come to this? Was he really out of options? Images of his clansmen curled up and dying flashed through his head. He saw, again, the hopelessness in their eyes. He stared at Rocky standing open-mouthed next to him. Rocky, whose cheeks should have been round but had turned gaunt years ago because he only ate scraps. Rocky, Falcon’s little brother, for whom she had suffered every pang of hunger gladly ever since their parents had died. Rocky, the six-year-old boy who had shivered and stumbled through the Forest for his leader, Tom, who was about to feed him alive to a monster! 

No! What was he doing? How could he have thought that this was the answer? How could he hope to live with himself after the deed was done? He would rather starve forever than do this. He would rather drop dead than do this! He would never forgive himself in this life or the next if he sent this child into the jaws of that monster! 

“Rocky,” said Tom. He balled his fists as he tried to calm his shaking without success. “I’m sorry. Let’s–”

“No!” someone screamed.

Tom and Rocky both jumped. 

“Falcon?” Rocky exclaimed. 

Falcon ran into the clearing, skidded to a stop, and pointed something at Tom. It took a split second for him to register that it was a gun. He hadn’t seen a firearm since he was her age, and it had been even longer since he had found one that actually worked. He was sure this one worked, though. The fury in her eyes told him as much.

“Where did you find that?” he asked her. “And why didn’t you tell anyone about it?”

“Why didn’t I tell anyone? Why didn’t you tell anyone about that?” she yelled, flicking her chin toward the lilies. “I know you come here every time we run out of food. I know how you feed that … that thing! And I know about the deal you made with it last time!”

Tom tightened his fists as he failed yet again to stop shaking.

“I’ve been following you. I can hear everything through the keyhole,” Falcon said, answering the question he failed to hide from his eyes. 

Laughter rumbled out of the House. It started low, like the purring of a great cat, then grew into something uncontrolled. The darkness inside the House stretched out like so many thick, black ropes, weaving together to form the creature’s enormous body as it took one step then another out of the House. The water in the pools swelled beneath its heavy footsteps and cascaded down the infinite terraces. Falcon dropped her gun. Rocky remained frozen. 

It had four legs, four clawed feet, and a single, long tail. Great mounds of black muscle and flesh bubbled and undulated on different portions of its body so that instead of retaining a single form, the creature seemed to shift its shape slightly at all times. Two round, unblinking eyes opened on its flat face and glanced at Tom before fixing on Rocky. Its mouth split into a wide grin full of triangular teeth. A black tendril rose from its back. 

“Get behind me,” Tom commanded Rocky. 

The boy only trembled as the creature began crawling toward them like a deformed spider, its four legs pumping up and down one at a time. 

“I said get behind me!” 

Tom grabbed Rocky and threw him behind himself. The tendril shot toward Tom’s head. He stood his ground as the tip of the tendril hit Earth’s air and dissolved. He already knew that the creature couldn’t step foot onto Earth. It could barely tolerate the sunlight of its own world, never mind the Earth’s raw atmosphere. That was how Tom had escaped from it the first time. He had scrambled back onto Earth just before it had managed to take full hold of him, leaving only his jacket behind. Still, instinct triggered him to position himself in front of Rocky as the creature continued crawling toward them. It stopped in front of them and stooped its head so that one eye took up the entire opening into the other world. 

“Well, my friend,” it rumbled. “You’ve brought me my meal. But you won’t have your lilies until I eat.”

Panic throbbed within Tom’s chest. He couldn’t lock the world away from this side. He had to go in then come back out for the keyhole to reform. But he couldn’t step foot in there now. The creature would devour him if he went in without Rocky. 

But what did that matter? The monster couldn’t step onto Earth anyway. Tom would take the children, go back to camp, and forget about this damn, cursed place! 

But the clan. What about the clan? For Tom, starving to death was certainly better than allowing this creature to eat Rocky alive, but leaving like this would sentence the clan to die too. Sacrificing Rocky was not an option. But sacrificing the clan wasn’t either.

Tom finally stopped shaking as he accepted the solution. 

He turned to find Falcon and Rocky trembling with their arms wrapped around one another. They recoiled slightly as he walked up to them. He held out the key to Falcon. She stared back at him with wide eyes that were filled with more fear than hatred. He gently tossed the key onto the ground before her feet. 

“One year,” he told her. “That’s how long you’ll have before that monster tells you to bring another human. That’s how long it’ll let you harvest the lilies and how long you’ll have to find more guns from wherever you managed to dig that one up. Get some bombs too. Use them to destroy its house. It grows weaker whenever it steps out of it. Kill the creature, and move into that world. There’s no hope left on Earth.”

He made to speak to Rocky, but the boy’s palpable terror silenced the apology he wanted to give him. He turned around instead and faced the creature still looming at the opening. He held up his arm and flexed it so that the missing chunk of his flesh stood out. The creature’s pupil shrank into a pinprick. 

“One year! Do we have a deal?” Tom yelled.

“Oh, yes!” the creature replied. 

Its eye bobbed up and down as it stomped its feet with excitement. It raised its head so that instead of an eye, its grinning mouth occupied the space. Tom told himself not to scream as he broke into a run. The last thing he heard before he hurled himself into the creature’s mouth was the kids screaming his name. The last thing he saw was a lily, red and beautiful, blooming in the water from which he knew his clan would someday drink.