The Shade

[gridlore]

This is a bit that was sparked by a discussion at my writing group. I'm not going to try to sell it, because I've read any number of similar stories in the past. I'm just trying to get into the habit of always writing when a story idea hits me. Comments and criticism welcome. As I was checking for typos I realized that the Shade itself was inspired by the Domination win video from Civilization IV.


The Shade

Crazy Jane walked into the communal hall looking like hell. “Marin just went dark...about 15 minutes ago.” There was the mandatory few moments of silence before somebody asked if that was the one claiming to be the Government of the Muir Republic.

Jane took a pull from a vodka bottle before answering. “Same station, but a new voice. She said the others had ‘opted out’ before the Shade hit them. She was really calm. Was saying prayers or some shit. Jewish, I think. Right before the station dropped, she said ‘it has come.’ No carrier wave, dead air. I heard a station die, I claim my due.”

Everyone nodded, the ones who had been monitoring when Seattle and Portland dropped nodding the hardest. Crazy Jane gathered a few bottles and left. We’d see her in a few days, or she’d run off, or we’d find her dead. But she had earned her grief. She’d been an air-traffic controller when the Shade first appeared. She watched thousands vanish in planes flying polar routes.

Beside me, Mission Man started bouncing in place. “‘Opted out’? What does that even mean, man? I mean, did they run? Off themselves and leave one chica behind to sign off? Maybe they decided to tell the Shade they weren’t participating; I mean, I mean, maybe they made signs saying ‘Shade Off Earth’ and ‘Hell No, We Won’t Go’ and walked up to the Shade with a freaking petition, man! A strong statement! Maybe they. . .”

That’s when Victor slapped Mission Man hard enough to draw blood. Behind Victor’s back we call him the Human Forklift. He dragged Mission Man to his feet. “You’re being manic, MM. Go run up and down the mountain a few times.”

“Yeah, yeah! Run up and down the mountain! Gotta be in shape! Going to run around the world to get away from the Shade!” With that, Mission Man bolted out the doors, yelling about running and mountains.

Victor sank onto the couch where Mission Man had been sitting. It groaned under his weight.  His voice was as big as the rest of him.  “Fucking Shade’s moving faster.”

The room fell silent. Everyone was looking at me. “So, what are we going to do?” asked one of the relative newcomers. Every eye on me, and I hated it.

Before this all started, I was a forester with the California Department of Forestry. When the Shade started creeping down from the Arctic Circle and things started getting crazy, I had the keys to get into the old Air Force base on top of Mount Umunhum. I let some friends in, and they let friends in, and when civilization crashed in the Bay Area some stragglers showed up. And everyone just assumed I was in charge. I organized salvage runs, taught how to identify edible plants and how to set snares, and resolved conflicts.

So here I was, a feudal lord in his high castle. I wanted nothing to do with it. But most of our survivors were here, so I had to say something.  “We have, at best, three weeks before the Shade arrives. Maybe less. Anyone who wants to run, feel free to do so. You can take one weapon, three days of food and water and 50 gallons of gas. Any vehicle will be filled with people before another one rolls out. I’m staying. These mountains are my life. Make your own choices. I resign.”

Seven of us stayed. We partied for a solid week, getting drunk, screwing, eating all the food we’d squirreled away for a special occasion. But as the Northern horizon grew darker each day, the parties stopped. People kept to themselves.

All too soon, there was a clear line where blackness cut off the sky. A few days before the Shade’s arrival, Mission Man came up to me with tears in his eyes. He apologized for forgetting which meds he was on when he came up here. He ran off, apologizing to everyone and no one.

Arrival night, and I’m sitting here on the edge of the old radar block building. The Shade is towering, cutting the world in half. Crazy Jane sits down next to me.
“Who’s on radio?”
“Does it matter at this point?” She shrugs. “Leo asked to do it. He always felt like he wasn’t doing enough, so I gave him the mike.”
“Fair enough.”

Off to the west there’s a brilliant sunset. I look at the reddened sun and think Who spared you? Why us? Why this? Why now? Questions I have never asked before. I get no answers.

The Shade is swallowing Mt. Umunhum. I watch as the foot of the black wall climbs steadily, devouring trees and ridgelines without any fuss. I think of the years I spent guarding this range. I’m strangely calm.

The Shade has reached the fence line. The entire world seems still and flat. Crazy Jane takes my hand. It’s like holding fire. We look at each other. We both speak.

“It has come.”