Where is Everybody? twenty four

Saturday the Seventeenth of June. Naturally we should all feel depressed. The situation never becomes less undesirable, but you can't consistently be sad anymore than you can be eternally blissful. The sentient mind doesn't work that way. I feel much better than ever physically. I should be more spry. I'm not. Maybe I should remove that there bracelet. Maybe I might ride me bicycle. There have been less effective ways to get up than literally getting up. I feel less and less inclined to let this thing drag me down. And I did go out, but not before reporting a dream to the others, later finding someone I found who couldn't come with us.

Last night I had another weird eccentric dream. Not at all like a nightmare. But mum was there, and her face was blank. With all the vivacity and clarity of the last dream I mentioned the night that odd chopper showed up, she said all I know is at an end. That can't be right. I'm still here. They are still here. Society may collapse, towns and cities will crumble, machines and tools will rust. I have seen it, and it doesn't impress me. When she vanished, an odd looking mare showed up, and she wasn't humanoid like mum was. Oddly, she was undefined other than having a mare's build. She had less clarity than everything else. She said not anything verbally to me, but she did flash me several images within my head.. within my head. It didn't show me much more than a half dozen men and women twitching like they were in the chair, and she was standing there watching it, no more than eight feet away. She wasn't doing anything, just looking without a care in the world. She then turned her head at me and aimed a hoof at me and shouted something incomprehensible and indistinct. Even though she had no fingers, the sounds of fingers snapping was heard anyway. The result? About a half dozen horses appeared around her one by one. I flashed out of the vision and popped back into reality number two. The mare seemed to nod her head silently as if she was in deep thought. I wonder what was in her head.

I woke up. What a non nightmare. Who was that mare? Was she real, or my subconscious being odd to me again? I could never remember dreams this crystal before, nor the other. Either the dreams are real, or I'm going mad. I sincerely hope not.

When Sweet gave me a pat on the back and massaged me on the neck, I thanked her and left my-- our room to run into Pickering and Samantha, the former going to pick a piece from the trunk, and a sack of lettuce on her shoulder, the latter staring me in the eyes.

"Had a nice dream, Alex? Had sweet dreams?"

"I'm not sure sweet is the word you would use. It wasn't quite a nightmare, but it wasn't rainbow and gumdrops either."

I later told the rest about it and Will stated he saw a belt. No idea what it was about, but it led to nothing and had no obvious connection to anything. Without another word, I went to the pit, followed by Sweet Stuff. I took my stuff down to the garage and entered with anticipation. My bicycle hadn't been ridden in over three weeks. I wondered if I could balance it this way. Spoiler alert: I could. I could not hold the handlebars, only apply pressure on them with my ass on the seat. My posture was surprisingly flexible when I wasn't trying to stand without support. After five minutes of riding in circles, my balance and steering was good as it had ever been. I sped off without a word and only Anthony and Will seemed to see it. Which means Val knows about it, too.

Down the creek I went. Up I went. I was nearly at the coast when I heard a man's scream. I couldn't pull the brakes like this, so I had to slow down.

"HELP! HELP!"

"WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Over here, by median."

I don't know if a few trees in the middle of the creek by coincidence is a median. I slowed down, and threw by bike on its side to charge for that poor guy. When me eyes caught a flash of silver, I could see Monica in me head. Unfortunately what I discovered was unlike anything I had seen up until now. It wasn't mobile and free to go where it pleases like me and everybody I met thus far. How he came to this point is a mystery, but he certainly hadn't been here too long.

What I saw was what appeared to be-- I don't know. A fish? A man trapped in a fish's body? A beached sea lion? And an alien like us for sure in any case. What I said next would be the making of this guy or the ruin of him: "What were you doing here?"

"I was running alongside the river when I fell all of a sudden. Everything went silent, I fell over, and tumbled into the creek. If I hadn't, I feel like I would have burned. I haven't been able to walk for the past four days, and I could only crawl in the shallow water. And you look like a horse." I didn't react at all to that. "I began to call for help, but no one would respond to my calls nor texts. My clothes have been all important to not getting sunstroke till I found these trees. I haven't eaten nor had clean water for the past three days. I haven't felt hunger oddly, but I did get thirsty. Much as I hated to do it, I had the water here, which is cleaner than I remember it. Not a trace of obvious sewage. I don't recall forecasts for rain, but a storm must have happened upstream. I feared I would drown. Not only did I not drown, I felt strangely comfortable in the rising water, and it didn't rise more than and inch or two. Still, I held onto this here tree. I know not where everyone is, as this trail is never this deserted. Is there anyone else?"

I gave him the brief frankly. He seemed apprehensive, skeptical. "Alright."

"Give me a moment." I pulled out a walkie talkie and pushed the singular button. "Monica? Are you in?"

Without a beat, he responded: "YES! Where are you, Torrez? My brother and I have been scanning the place and asking the others where you went, and we have been annoyed you would take off like this without reliable communication or informing us where you went!"

"Hold that, Mr Hadley. I've got a serious issue here. There's a sapient fish creature here of sorts. He's not going to last long if we don't do something."

There was a pause. Then he said:"I want to shrug this off, but weirder things have happened. But we can't do anything about him now. You'll have to leave him there."

"A talking horse and a talking box!" a voice said in the distance. What? It came from the bank. Then I put the pieces together. He's trying to make a joke. I couldn't do this with a clean conscience, but what can I do but hope another heavy rainstorm upstream would take him away towards the ocean? I came back and told him I'd be back tomorrow.

Just as I took a step towards the stone wall, I felt a cold, flexible, yet strong hand or flipper grasp my hind left hoof. "NO! DON'T LEAVE ME!"
I had to give my best kick to get the desperate merman or whatever to let go. A tear ran down my cheek as I began to trot towards the instrument of my affection. Getting it up was harder than mounting it when it was up in the first place. I hated that. But what could I do? I looked back and could still hear his cries not to be abandoned. I shook my head and cycled away, still hearing his cries for miles. Not surprising considering I had far more sensitive ears than ever before, and the canyon of concrete echoes. "it gets pitch dark here at night. it gets silent as the grave..."

His aura seemed somewhat more clean and pure than all of ours. His demeanor seemed content to be known about and seen. Yet he was petrified at being left utterly alone. I don't blame him. I didn't even ask his name, as I should have. Shoot.

When I got back, Will was in his notebook again documenting his morning. Was it me, or did his breath smell like sweets? Monica and Sherman were tapping their feet on the carpeted floor. "Alex. You just got out of a prison. You just recovered from illness. Do you want to get ill again?"

Indignantly, I told him I needed to help those in need. He only scoffed and rolled his eyes, saying:"No, Torrez. Just no. You aren't losing us that easy. We still haven't figured out what it all means, where everybody is, and where this energy came from."
"I agree." Sherman.

Will, Angela, Sweet, Anthony and Val were watching intently. Will had put his notebook down as if irritated by this commotion, and wanted to see what was the racket. After a minute, he got up and left.

Sherman finally spoke:"Tomorrow, we'll get up early, and we'll spend the Sunday on the beach. If we see any mermen in the creek, we'll believe you. Until then, no more craziness. Those HPI men could be pulling our legs trying to psyche us out."

"I saw it!" Sweet then put a hoof on my shoulder as did Angela. "Drop it. It's not worth it. Maybe you saw something, perhaps you did not. What's important is you stay here and stay safe. Whether I believe you or not doesn't matter. What matters is your own desire to help and I'll be here to take care of you."

I melted. I came up and went to the bed I now lay in. I hope he's still there tomorrow.

--Alex Chance Torrez.

Saturday, an unexpected pleasure awaited me on the seventeenth.

The day wasn't too eventful, save for Alex babbling about merfolk or some such fiddle faddle. I swear that head is hollow at times. But who am I to pass judgement? I'm considered a nut by my blood. Earlier there were not-so-much complaints about seeing an odd mare watching people die from thaumen overload, then sending the dreamer away to reality. I had one, too, but much more vague.

Where was I? Oh, yes. Before I was interrupted, I was going to document my experience when the two of us went into a bakery in town that was conspicuously open. The enticing smell of pies was luring us to the empty establishment. Val was in the cart with us and said he wasn't going to leave it alone. We agreed we'd meet him again when we came out.

As I came out, I let her jump onto my back. Then dumped her onto the ground. After dusting herself off, she scoffed and went right in. The queer thing was the store didn't look like the ones around it. There was an offness about it. It took me a full minute to see the place was sparkling. A garbage can empty except a Windex bottle empty stood by the door. The glass was clear as crystal. The display cases were the same. The floors were not only swept, they were waxed. But oddest of all was the line of pies lining the interior of the case. On the glass was a sticky note:dear horse people. We hope you can enjoy sweets. We hope you love apple. Your dear friend, Martinez, HPI man.

I didn't trust it. How'd he know we were coming here? They had to be tailing us. The pies are too fresh, still steaming. And the note still smells of ink. Sweet took a bite, and showed no ill effect. Val and she would soon tell me how safe it will be. She took them without question and went to the cart. I followed.

Val seemed unsurprised when we came back. He could feel out feelings when we left the shop, knowing we found something good. I'll gladly be Alex's extra guinea pig to see if sweets in general, and these in particular are safe for us.

All the complaints I have made, I do like one thing: The heightened senses. Too bad A one and A two have that extra sense I lack. I wish I could sense thaumens like they can. I envy Alex and Anthony.

The former got chewed out by our resident cop when s/he came back for running off alone without an escort. I'll go with them tomorrow. And offer a slice when I know it's safe to our host.

Post Statement: I suspect the HPI men left that pie there for us to test our senses. To see how sharp they are? Perhaps they've been doing this everyday since they found us and knew we'd come downtown to find more people where the odds are highest. Plus, it's by the river. They know our senses to be strong now. At least if I die, no one who senses thaumic auras will perish from these pies.

Till tomorrow, Willie Maket.