Survivor (Secret Society)

Survivor 

~Talin 

–60 minutes– 

It's been an hour since time stopped, and I think I’m still in shock.  

I was shopping with my mother and baby sister when it happened. I was talking to my mother in the produce aisle, looking at some red peppers, recounting some story about a funny video I’d seen recently, my mother ‘mhm-ing’ half-heartedly behind me, when suddenly everything went silent.  

The hum of conversation, of carts being pushed along tiled floors, of the clacking of a register, everything dropped away. One moment the world was moving then the next it was still. Silent. I stopped mid-sentence, confused, turning around, and looking for the problem.  

My mother was frozen mid-step. She had one hand on our cart, the other hand reaching out to grab some tangerines, a mildly bored look on her face. My baby sister sat in the cart seat, a finger in her mouth, her little feet mid-kick; slobber glistening on her cheeks, eyes glassy and open, not blinking.  

“... Mom?” I asked tentatively. I set a hand on her shoulder. I shook her a little when she didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t even blink. I tilted my head, so I was looking into her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, the ones I’ve grown up with, the very first pair of eyes I saw.  

Her eyes were dead. The spark that lived there was gone, or perhaps pinned still, either way, I couldn’t see it moving. There wasn’t any recognition in her eyes, and she stared right through me. Like I was a ghost.  

She was warm and still and silent. A living statue that I couldn’t wake, I couldn’t shake, I couldn’t bring her back into motion.  

I stumbled back, eyes wide, jaw slack, heart pumping wildly.  

Then I whirled around and ran through the store, searching desperately for someone, anyone, who could help me.  

I found more of the same, every single person trapped in time, caught mid-motion. I walked through the whole store, coming upon the statue of a father mid-struggle with a crying child. The child’s face was scrunched up, screaming silently, the father leaning over to calm it. I crouched in front of the two of them, looking back and forth between the child and the father. I reached out a finger without thinking, and gently touched the child’s cheek. It was still wet with tears.  

My heart suddenly sped up and I stood up fast, crying out in distress. I ran back to where my mother and sister were frozen, the realization of the situation washing over me. They were all frozen! A horrible thought came to me - Was I the only one?  

I stared desperately at my mother, imploring her silently to come back to me, to tell me it was all a joke, that this was just a dream. She didn’t move, and I choked back a gasp, clapping a hand over my mouth, my eyes flooding. I turned on my heel again and sprinted to the front of the store.  

The world was void of human activity. No cars rumbling, no people talking, no one walking, moving. No one was breathing. The cars had stopped in the streets. One driver was even frozen shaking his fist out the window at someone who had, I assumed, just cut him off. 

The wind gushed through the trees as I stood on the pavement, stunned. I watched with wide eyes, a leaf broke off from a tree branch and fluttered down in front of me. I could hear the birds chirping, suddenly loud, in the overpowering void of silence created by the lack of human noise. 

I’m not sure how long I stood there but eventually, I began wandering the familiar streets of my neighbourhood, eyes wide open and drinking in the statues, the stillness, the penetrating silence.  

I wandered back to the store in a sort of daze. Entering the store and seeing the clock overhead. The second hand is still ticking, and I estimate it’s been an hour since everyone froze. What do I do? What do I do?  

Then a comforting thought comes to me. If the time stopped like this for everyone but me, for no good reason that I can see, it only makes sense that it will turn back on again, right? Right. I nod assertively to myself, almost chuckling. I’ve just got to wait this out, and then everything will go back to normal. An even more comforting thought comes to me: What if this is all just a dream? Horribly realistic, but I’ve had realistic dreams before, and I’ve always woken up from them sooner or later.  

I pinch myself. Unfortunately, nothing happens. I don’t wake up from this nightmare, but I’m not too concerned. It's just a dream, I’m sure. I’ll wake up eventually. And in the meantime, … I think I can find some fun in these new-found circumstances.  

–5 hours– 

I’m sitting in a small dark corner wedged between two fruit barrels, with my head in my hands. The velvet darkness behind my eyelids is comforting, but the silence roars in my ears as I count time, using my heartbeat as a clock, the booming in my ears are the seconds. I count.  

It's been five freaking hours, and I gave up the dream idea a good while ago. But in the beginning, I spent some time having fun, rearranging the statues, and eating as much food from the store as I wanted.  

I ate the chocolate mother never let me have, drank milk right from the carton and filled the heavy air with my unapologetic burps. I revelled in the freedom, no one telling me what to do, no prices, no expectations. I danced around the store, trying out different pairs of shoes and outfits from the few clothing racks in the front. I laughed and chortled and munched and tried to ignore the heavy silence that descended on me when I stopped making noise. If I stopped moving, I got scared. So, I didn’t stop moving. I didn’t go outside the store again, couldn’t bear to change from this comforting thing I am used to. So, I danced down the aisles filled with frozen people and stuffed myself with sugars and lollies until I felt sick.  

I also had some fun with the people. The man with the child crying, for example. I straightened the father and picked up the child, placing the child in his arms. They were easy to move and held the positions I put them in. They were warm and mouldable, and I found it fun until I psyched myself out. I looked at the man and child and took a step back, gulping. I changed them. It was too easy to change their bodies to fit my fantasies. A feeling of wrongness flooded me, and I fled back across the store and sat at the feet of my frozen mother.  

“This is weird, Mom,” I said to her, then I coughed a knot forming in my throat. My voice sounded weird in the silence. Foreign, and unnatural, in this blanketing quiet. I didn’t look at her, trying to pretend like she wasn’t frozen, like in the next second she would reach down and pat my head.  

“Now, now, Asha,” I imagined her saying. “It’s going to be alright. You have such an active imagination.”  

It sounded so real in my head like she was talking to me. I shook my head at myself. Two hours of silence and I was already going crazy, having conversations with myself. I’ve got to keep my head on straight until I wake up from this dream, I told myself.  

I sat there, at the feet of my frozen mother and sister, feeling the sweets I had consumed threatening to make their way back up again. I felt sick and scared. I had had my fun, and now I wanted this to end. It was all a sick joke. A horrible dream. I felt like crying. The knot in my throat swelled and bobbed. 

I sat there, and time started to stretch out in front of me. The silence wasn’t complete, I heard the buzzing of flies, the clacking of the AC radiators that still ran, and far away, the barking of dogs. I heard my heartbeat and blood crashing in my ears. I was too aware of my body, of the solid, unmoving warmth of my mother’s legs behind me.  

The ticking of my watch was deafening and all-consuming. I was acutely aware of the passing of time, and how the people were not a part of this passage of time. Only me. Me.  

It was around that time that I started to think that this wasn’t a dream and that I wasn’t going to wake up.  

It was about then that I started to get seriously scared. I started to panic. I wandered around the store in fearful bewilderment, snapping my fingers in front of blank faces, I poked, prodded, shouted, screamed. Nothing I did mattered. They were frozen. Nothing I did seemed to change that.  

There is no one here to judge me now and so I cried openly, tears streaming down my face as I cried and begged and wandered through the aisles, the realization fully dawning on me. This was not a dream. This was my new reality.  

I feel like a shadow, like a spirit, like a ghost.  

– One day– 

I eventually went home, leaving my mother and sister frozen in the aisle. It was nearing dusk when I finally got up the nerve to leave the store. I shivered and hugged my stomach, hurrying along the pavement, trying to ignore the barking coming from some of the houses I passed. The pets were trapped inside, with their humans frozen, immobile. I ignored them for the time, speeding my way home, numb inside.  

I opened the door in a daze and locked it behind me. My dad sat frozen at the kitchen table, computer screen black in front of him, hands poised mid-type. I gulped and rushed past him to my room. I collapsed on my bed and fear gripped my heart in an iron fist. The world was so quiet, so void of human noise. It was scary, unnatural, and wrong. I’m scared of being alone, I hate this loneliness. If only one other person was unfrozen with me! It would make this a million times better. I’ve already checked my phone, and my computer, and nearly had a heart attack when I saw that no one has posted anything, there is nothing on the news about this, nothing, nothing, nothing. I scoured the internet for as long as I could stomach it and as far as I know, I am the only one unfrozen in the whole world.  

I can’t think about that. It is too terrifying. My chest constricts and it gets hard to believe. I curl up in the tightest ball I can and throw the covers over my head.  

I imagine my dad is sitting at the end of my bed, his hand on my shoulder.  

“It’s okay Asha, breathe.” He says to me. “It’s all going to be alright; I promise. Breathe with me – in, 1, 2, 3, 4, out, 1, 2, 3, 4. This is something scary that is happening, but it will pass, and you will be okay, I promise.” 

In my imagination I feel his hand on my shoulder, the weight of him sitting on the end of my bed. I breathe with him and slowly my breaths even out and become steady.  

I pull back the blankets from my head. No one is sitting on the end of my bed. The imagined weight of my father disappears, and I am left in an empty room.  

I burrow under the covers again and sob myself to sleep.  

– One week – 

It has been a week since the time stopped for all the humans except for me, and it hasn’t turned back on. Since the day I went home after being in the store on the day the time stopped, I feel like I’ve gone through some stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining…  

The first two days I went around in a daze, lost and in shock, not believing what had happened, that this isn’t a dream, that this is my reality now. I think I’m still partly in denial. The next few days I was angry and upset. I went around to all the people in my town who were in the streets and shook them, screamed in their faces, sobbed at their feet, held them, and pleaded with them. I feel a little embarrassed at this today, but hey, there's no one here to have seen that, no one to judge me, so that's nice. I guess.  

Today I’ve decided to accept that this is reality - for now - that doesn’t mean I like this new reality. I’ve never felt religious, but now I get down on my knees in my bedroom and pray. I pray for a release, I pray for this torture to end, I pray for someone, anyone, to be unfrozen with me.  

I don’t know how plumbing, or electricity works, but I’m sure they are going to stop soon. I’ve tried to prepare myself for this, raiding stores and stocking up on water and canned foods. I also let all the pets in my town out of their houses so they wouldn’t starve. I’m not sure if this was the best idea because dog packs have started roaming the streets, and I’m scared in the night that they will come for me, for the food I have. I’m afraid if they get hungry, they will eat the frozen humans. That is why I left all the doors of the stores open so that the animals can eat what they find there too. I lock all the windows and doors when it's night, and I make sure to close the curtains, after that terrifying night I saw glowing eyes in the dark looking in at me. We are next to a forest and forest animals have started to wander into the town. I’m afraid of bears, of coyotes. The nights are the worst, I talk myself to sleep and even then, I have nightmares.  

I’ve charged all the flashlights I’ve found, knowing the electricity will soon go off. I don’t know what to do. At night the terrifying thoughts come for me – What if the time never switches back on? What if they are stuck like this forever? Should I plan better for the long run?  

I’m afraid, and so I pray and cry, and keep myself company with my voice.  

– Two weeks – 

Electricity and plumbing are gone. I panicked when the lights went off, plunging me into darkness. I cried and shook and fumbled for my flashlight. Even though I knew this was going to happen I wasn’t mentally prepared.  

I’ve dug a hole for myself outside, a way off from the house, behind a tree. I tried to dig it as deep as I could. I haven’t taken a shower in a week, and I’m scared of going outside. So far, I’ve survived only venturing as far as the latrine hole, but I know my supplies will eventually run out and I will have to leave the comfort of my house.  

I’ve moved my father to lie on the sofa. I put a blanket on him and closed his eyes, and if I pretended hard enough, I could hear him snoring. In the early days, I got my mother and sister from the store and put them in the living room too. My mom was too heavy to carry so I lifted her into the shopping cart with my sister, made sure they were comfortable, and pushed them home.  

“You are such a strong girl,” my mother said to me approvingly, when I managed to place them carefully on a living room chair with my father. I took her warm limp hand, and held it to my cheek, imagining her reaching out to push a strand of my hair back. “My beautiful girl.”  

Tears gathered in my eyes. “I’m trying so hard Momma. What do you think I should do? Plan for the long run? I don’t want to do that. I’m sure any day now you will wake up and hug me and tell me it's okay, that it was all a bad dream, that it's over now…”  

“Asha!” My mother tuts, scolding me. “You mustn’t get distracted thinking about what you want to happen. That will do you no good. You must be smart and plan for the worst that could happen, do you hear me?”  

“I know, I know,” I whisper, and drop her hand. Her eyes are dead, looking through me and a tear runs down my cheek. I know what that means. I know what I must do.  

Planning for the worst means planning for this to last forever.  

– One month – 

My food ran out a day ago. I must go outside and find more. 

I’m afraid of the animals, of the other living creatures that might see me as weak, as prey. I carry a large kitchen knife and a pistol I got from raiding a store. I don’t know how to use a pistol, but I feel safer with it in my hand.  

– Three months – 

I nearly died when a dog pack attacked me, now I am another pack’s leader. The first pack attacked me when I was small weak and hungry, equipped only with a kitchen knife and a hunk of metal I didn’t know how to use. They cornered me after I came out of a store with food out of my hands. They attacked me and took the food, tearing it apart with slobbering mouths while I lay in a pool of blood a little way away looking at the sky.  

It was amazing how fast nature overtook what humans cleared out. Already there were vines on the buildings, and this was what I looked at when I was sure I was dying.  

Later that evening, I came back to consciousness with a wet nose nudging my side. A big creature, I think they are wolves, or coyotes, or dogs, I’m not sure, licked my face and helped me get up. I limped until I was outside the town and at a river. I collapsed and cleaned and wrapped my wounds. The creature sat on its haunches and watched me with dark eyes. I’ve named it Grey, because that was its colour, and I’m not creative with names.  

More of them came out of the trees. At first, I was scared, and my wounds ached with the remembrance of sharp teeth and claws.  

Then a small wolf – I’ve named her Small unsurprisingly – came forward and dropped a can of beans into my lap. I don’t know why they chose to help me, but Grey had a collar on, and I think they used to be pets now turned wild, and so have some loyalty to humans. Since then, they’ve let me run with them.  

Since I am a human, I can open doors, and open food containers, and so now I’m the leader. I feed them, and they guard me from other wild animals who are jealous of us. At night I sleep curled around Small, with Grey guarding my back. I talk to them, but I also make polite conversation with the other humans we come across. A lot of the humans have started to fade into the background, some with vines growing around their feet, for example. I move them around sometimes and makeup plays in my head about what they are doing. I try to remind myself that I am still human, not a wolf or dog. The pack watches me curiously while I do this.  

– Five months – 

I’ve gathered all the humans I could find in the centre of the town. It took me a week, but I’ve made a train of carts and so I can stack the humans and attach my friends – Black and Red are the strongest dogs – to the front of the cart and together we pull them into town. I’ve decided I will be the queen of the humans as well as the dogs. I am the human survivor, after all, it is only fair.  

The humans are all gathered in a pile, and I go about setting them up very carefully.  

“You my dear sir, look too old to go into a kneeling position, don’t you?” I say to one elderly man. I think I knew his name a long time ago but now I’ve forgotten it.  

“Yes, my queen, my knees are getting weak this year, you see.” He tells me, his voice old and wavery.  

“Never you worry, I will help you out,” I tell him and make him, so he has one fist on his heart and bend his waist so that he is bowing. “This will be enough to show your loyalty.”  

I go to each and every one, making sure to make eye contact with them and talk to each other personally. One cannot have an army without having them loyal, I’m sure. My friends watch me with cocked heads and wagging tails. They like my voice but cannot talk back. This is why I need the company of humans. They understand me well. They will be a faithful army.  

These are my humans, my wolves, and since time hasn’t started again and likely never will, this is my life now. I am a ghost no longer, I am a leader, a captain, a queen. 

I laugh into the frigid morning air and the wolves howl with me and all around me is the silence emanating from the humans, the living dead.  

-Outside the simulation- 

“Sir, I think she’s cracked. Isn’t this enough?” 

“Yeah, sir, I agree. We need to cut the simulation. We’ve gone too far.” 

“No. We will not cut the simulation.” 

“But sir, we have all the information we need, don’t we?” 

“Yeah, I think it’s time we stopped. She’s been living like this for almost half a year. It's too long for anyone to be by themselves. We need to stop.” 

“I said no. You don’t understand. This is perfect.  

We’ve.  

Only.  

Just.  

Begun.”