Escape from the Noh (An Original Story - Part 4)
Part Four
The two runners walk for a few hours, passing several rusted-over signs along the way. “I wonder what the signs used to say?” Sofia thinks aloud.
“I think their destinations were scraped off long ago,” Ryan answers. “They used to write distances to cities on the signs for travelers.”
“’Deluvia, one hundred meters!’” Sofia laughs.
Ryan smiles, shaking his head. “I think it would be more like ‘Deluvia, five kilometers!’”
The sun hides behind a cloud, alerting them that dusk will draw near. Their pace quickens, and Sofia gasps as they come to a fork in the road. “Now there are two signs, one beside the other.”
Ryan peers down each fork and thinks for a moment. “Which way do we go?”
Sofia examines each road; the northwestern route opens straight and wide into a plain, while the northeastern route thins into a hillside and disappears from view. “I think we go that way,” she says, pointing northwest. “If we follow the sun, we will avoid the Noh.”
Ryan takes a second look at the northeastern route. His back is bronze from the setting sun, and she feels compelled to hold him. Her arms barely meet around his chest, and they slide to his waist. He pays her no attention.
“What’s wrong?” Sofia asks, prodding.
“The left road is open, no trees, no shelter. This other road may have more useful escape routes.”
“But it’s so dark over there.” Sofia shivers at the thought of those hills. “Besides, Deluvia is rumored to be on a wide, well-traveled road. I’m sure one of those signs points to her, but not the one on the right.”
“Deluvia is a fantasy. There are no farm cities,” Ryan states, walking forward. Her grip breaks, and she stands there for only a few moments before catching back up to him.
Luck is with them. Beyond the curve in the road and the hill lies a small village, pockmarked with tattered and dilapidated shanties and tarpaper shacks. A dislocated shutter clacks in the distance, a victim of some distant gale. Shadows creep from post to eave, watching their movements through town. The sun begins its decline behind the hill they emerged from.
“This place gives me the spooks,” Sofia says, gripping Ryan’s arm.
“We may have to camp here tonight.”
“I think I hear children playing.”
“Not here, not now,” Ryan says softly and slowly. “Not evermore.”
Ryan takes her hand as they step over a line of burnt-out automobile husks. Their feet find purchase on a few car bumpers, which squeal in antiquity. Ryan notices a ramshackle wood house set behind a termite-infested wood-post fence. Grass and vegetation overrun the sides of the buildings, covering the bottom-most halves of windows.
“Where are we going?” Sofia asks, a tremor in her voice.
“Inside.”
Bzzz…. Bzzzzz.
The familiar buzzing sound follows them as they run down the side of the building, squeezing through a door that protests both the ideas of opening and closing.
First comes the buzzing, then chitter chittering.
Inside, Ryan pushes the door, kicking away dirt and stones from the jam. “Help me,” he wheezes, and Sofia throws her shoulder into the door as well.
The door slams shut. Ryan engages a deadbolt, and they stand there breathing. He peers out a grimy window. “They’re scrambling past us,” he says with darting eyes.
Sofia circles the room, holding her arms together. Ryan motions her to stop, but she shakes her head. “I’m not used to standing still with those horrible sounds.”
The clicking, chittering insectile sound passes, and all becomes quiet.
“Are they gone?” Sofia whispers.
Ryan nods. “I think we’ll be safe here.” He motions her to him, and when she draws near he holds her.
“I can’t,” she says with heavy breath. “I just can’t…”
“I know, Sofia, I know. I too tire, all the running, the climbing, the nightmares.” He wipes her tears with a thumb. “I long to have a home, to sleep in a bed and feel the warmth of another’s arms. To have someone.”
Sofia shakes her head.
Ryan’s emboldens his embrace. “I feel like the years have been stolen from me.”
Sofia slides out of his arms and moves towards the window, pressing her hand against the cold glass. With the last of the sun’s violet rays touching her face, she says:
“I can’t stay here. I have to run.”
But they stay.
Read the next chapter:
Part Five - https://steemit.com/fiction/@michaeladamparis/escape-from-the-noh-an-original-story-part-5
Start at the beginning:
Part One - https://steemit.com/fiction/@michaeladamparis/escape-from-the-noh-an-original-story-part-1
Part Two - https://steemit.com/fiction/@michaeladamparis/escape-from-the-noh-an-original-story-part-2
Part Three - https://steemit.com/fiction/@michaeladamparis/escape-from-the-noh-an-original-story-part-3
(More installments of this 8-part story are coming soon.)
"Escape from the Noh" is a short-story that is a combination of sci-fi and horror. As a writer, I enjoy deconstructing genres to see where I can mix them for a synergistic effect. I welcome feedback and will be publishing my 300,000 word epic novel "The Messiah" on Steemit in 2017.
Facebook page: (https://facebook.com/michaeladamparis/)
My Blog: (http://www.michaeladamparis.com)
Thank you all for your support and encouragement.
Image Credits: stevebidmead | blickpixel | MichaelVines | Unsplash
nice :)