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I Don't Like Heights
"Ben!" The voice echoes in my head as I'm pulled out of the dream. Ben. I think that's my name. I curl up close to my Skitter, shivering from the confusion and fear that's biting at my gut. I'm sure it was a nightmare, and waking up to the pitch black of the strange room where we have been sleeping the past few nights only intensifies the confusion. I don't remember much from the nightmare now, I know my Skitter seen what I was dreaming. He seen it and came inside my head to stop it. His legs have embraced the other kids, but his arms are holding me close to him, one clawed hand resting on the back of my head. Faded pictures of people that I feel I should know hide behind the fog in my brain. My Skitter pets at my head, and I feel him willing me to close my eyes and go back to sleep. Calm envelopes me like a blanket; I feel safe lying so close to my Skitter, and I welcome the control my Skitter holds over me at that moment. He will make it better. I used to depend on someone else to take away nightmares and ease my fears, I know I did, but I can't quite grasp that memory. I close my eyes and try not to connect with the one face from my nightmare that is still lingering in my thoughts. The features are hazy, but I remember a beard, and a voice that seemed to be calling for me. What had he called me? Ben, I think. Ben. That seems so familiar. I've heard that name recently, I'm sure, but I can't remember when. It's a name that seems to keep coming into my head, a name my Skitter is trying to drive out. My thoughts fade as my Skitter slips into my consciousness and wills me back to sleep. No more dreams, not tonight. I'm going to sleep deeply until morning and then I won't have time to think about it; I know that as I lose awareness of everything around me.
I feel a pull in my head that brings me out of sleep as the dim morning light peeking through the windows starts to etch shadows on the walls, the nightmare a lost memory, for the most part. We all stand as soon as our eyes open, knowing we are going to eat before we go to fill our quota for the day. We walk from our room to the hall, where we line up and kneel on the floor. We are given a treat this morning, cereal. There's no milk, and most of it is kind of stale, but the Skitters dump the contents of various boxes on the floor and let us all eat our fill. I think of Froot Loops, and though I'm not really sure what they are I wish that I had some now, but the granola bits and wheat flakes that I manage to scoop up off the floor are filling, and it's better than what we had last night before bed. I eat my handful of cereal and then wait until we are directed to fall into line.
I'm walking through the halls, eyes straight ahead; I barely notice the painting on the walls, until I see a cow jumping over a moon. 'The little boy laughed to see such a sight'. I'm not sure where the thought came from, but the voice from my dream echoes in my brain, saying those words. I would smile at the thought, but that's a concept that is lost on me somehow. I used to smile. I try to ignore the rhyme that is now running through my brain, and the voice that is speaking it. The morning light is faint, the sun isn't up, but there's enough light to see where we are stepping. If we can't see, the Skitter will direct us around obstacles, like the cars in the street, or the piece of wall that was blasted from a nearby building at some time in the past; pieces of brick, and shingles blown from houses by devastating blasts. I'm trying to remember what caused the blasts, but it's as vague as the face of the man from my dream. I shouldn't be thinking about the dream. I know that, and as the Mech meets up with us on the street, my Skitter turn to me, a warning buzzes through my brain and I force my thoughts to blank out on me.
I don't like heights, I'm not afraid, I just don't like being that far off the ground, but as we move through the deserted streets I understand that I'm going to be up high today. I'm going to be far from the ground. I'm going to be on a roof and I'm going to be there all day. I can't think about it or I'll get sick. Not that I can get sick anymore, but I'll feel sick and I'll wish I could get sick. I focus on the thunder under my feet that vibrates through the black top with every step the Mechs take. There are three of them with us today. We never know how many will be watching over us, waiting for…. I'm not sure what they are waiting for. I think I used to know, but if I did, it's no longer important enough for me to remember. There is never anything but metal and concrete, and silence. There is no talking, no music, and no sounds of car engines; no lawn mowers or teapots whistling. There is only the clicking of the Skitters and the ground shaking like an earthquake under the weight of the Mechs as they move forward.
I'm on the roof collecting the sheets of aluminum other kids have stripped from ventilation shafts sticking out of the roof. I don't remember how I got from the street to the roof; it's gone from my mind. I hear my Skitter in my head telling me to work fast, so that we can move on to the next building. It's not so much words; it's more like a feeling that swallows me up. We are behind, and we need to catch up or there will be no afternoon feeding. I move to the edge of the roof to drop the awkward load that fills my arms. I let the load fall just as the shimmer of a reflection flashes across my line of sight. I ignore it, turn around and go back for the next armload. I'm moving steadily, but none of us can really move quickly. I make sure not to look down each time I get back to the edge.
Three more loads and I can go back to the street to help the other kids collect what has been dropped from the roof, and I'm thankful that I'm going to be going down. I reach the edge of the roof, and once again the flash hits my eyes. My Skitter isn't close, I can't feel him. I let my eyes flick across the view in front of me and my stomach starts to spin when I see how far up I really am. A picture flashes through my brain of being on a ride, off the ground, laughing, despite the nausea that grips me. It's a quick flash and doesn't last long, but it's followed by another flash, I'm leaning forward, throwing up on Hal. Hal is my brother. I remember him. And a man leans over me asking me if I'm okay. The voice is familiar and I try to remember who it belongs to as it starts to recite the nursery rhyme I remember from that morning.
Dad, it has to be Dad. I can't make out the details; it's too far away, but the face, the beard, the shape of the hair and the jacket, it all looks so familiar. Wait; what I'm seeing isn't in my head. It's on the roof across from me. It's a group of people, I'm not sure how many, but I see the vague form from my dream, looking my direction. Next to the form is another one that looks familiar and I'm sure that one was watching me from a stream at some time; it's Hal, I threw up on him and then I laughed about it, I can remember that. It all runs through my mind, mixing together, confusing, and it feels like I'm watching them for a long time, but I know it's only been a split second as my body involuntarily turns to go back for another load. I feel my Skitter screaming at me, and then I hear a Mech moving around below. Moments pass and then the sound of the Mech gun blasting fills the air. We all drop to lay on the roof, directed by the Skitter. We stay on our stomachs until the blasting from the guns stop, waiting for instructions. What are we supposed to do? Stand, move to the door that takes us to the stairs. Stay in line. The day is over, there will be no more work, at least for my group. We will go back and rest for the remainder of the day. I don't understand; we are behind and we have to catch up, how can we rest for half the day? Not everyone will rest, some of us will work, but it will be back at the building with the cow jumping over the moon. I won't be one of the workers; my Skitter has to fix what is wrong with me, somehow. This is becoming a problem.
I don't want to go back, but my feet keep moving forward. As I reach the street I think about running, despite the Mech and my Skitter that are staying close to me; but I stay in line and keep pace with the rest of my group, I can't control what I do. They know. They know I seen people on the roof, and they know that I recognized them. I know that they didn't catch them, I know that they weren't alerted to them when I seen them. Something fell from that other roof and gave away their location. I can feel those facts seeping into my mind. I will not be working for a while; I have to be kept away from the others or I might contaminate them.
"Ben, are you okay?" The voice is clear in my head, and I know who it belongs to. My mind focuses on him and the face comes out of the fog. Dad; and the picture in my head is of him helping Hal wipe my puke off of his shirt. Moments afterwards, Hal is covered in fresh vomit that seems to have fired straight from Matt like a projectile. We laugh, all of us except Hal. I feel an arm wrap around me and I look up to see who it is, but the sun is in my eyes. For a split second I see a woman, her sunglasses propped on her head, but then, as we pass under some trees the vision is morphed and distorted and I see my Skitter. He's going to make it better.
Ben, I have to hold onto that name no matter what. My name is Ben.