Jake Haggmark - Andrew Petty - Ernesto Pacheco - Kumari Pacheco
Why Do You Do It?
“Why do you do it?” Offlaw shouted, but the woman in the dress only
stared. The metal platform she stood on threw Offlaw’s voice back at him, why do you do it returning sour with a desperation he scarcely recognized. Stupid.
“What’s your name?” he tried. But the woman had already retreated.
Offlaw fell back onto the cracked tile of the IIL’s floor. The Swarm hummed against him, not at all unpleasant, and he passed a hand over his grimy face, thinking, people live in there.
“What’s your name?” he tried. But the woman had already retreated.
Offlaw fell back onto the cracked tile of the IIL’s floor. The Swarm hummed against him, not at all unpleasant, and he passed a hand over his grimy face, thinking, people live in there.
● Day Six: Contact
w/woman approx. 5.5 feet tall in blue dress on platform
Offlaw’s pencil dragged up the page suddenly as he lurched forward, claimed briefly by exhaustion. Wake up, he thought, thumping a fist against his hip. But his body felt so heavy. When was the last time he’d slept? Doesn’t matter. Offlaw rolled himself into a seated position and flipped his notebook to its first page, thinking this is pathetic, and quite narcissistic. He began to read anyway.
● 7, Jan. 5218 : This pad is for me finding out what it is
Offlaw had written this in the wake of a particularly bitter move. This time he and his family had relocated a whole three blocks south, in an attempt to avoid the Behemoth’s path through the city.
Offlaw had hoped it would be the last move, but no matter where they went, the Behemoth was coming at them -- destroying, consuming, or pancaking, as his parents would say wearing overly bright smiles, every home Offlaw had ever lived in. They were never in any danger -- the Behemoth moved too slow for that -- but Offlaw, gangly and grim with adolescence, shedded every ounce of life pre-move, as everyone else did, except one: the dogged, visceral feeling that the Behemoth was after him.
Offlaw’s pencil dragged up the page suddenly as he lurched forward, claimed briefly by exhaustion. Wake up, he thought, thumping a fist against his hip. But his body felt so heavy. When was the last time he’d slept? Doesn’t matter. Offlaw rolled himself into a seated position and flipped his notebook to its first page, thinking this is pathetic, and quite narcissistic. He began to read anyway.
● 7, Jan. 5218 : This pad is for me finding out what it is
Offlaw had written this in the wake of a particularly bitter move. This time he and his family had relocated a whole three blocks south, in an attempt to avoid the Behemoth’s path through the city.
Offlaw had hoped it would be the last move, but no matter where they went, the Behemoth was coming at them -- destroying, consuming, or pancaking, as his parents would say wearing overly bright smiles, every home Offlaw had ever lived in. They were never in any danger -- the Behemoth moved too slow for that -- but Offlaw, gangly and grim with adolescence, shedded every ounce of life pre-move, as everyone else did, except one: the dogged, visceral feeling that the Behemoth was after him.
Ask anyone in town, however, and they’d say the Behemoth was just a part of life. “It’s another city-cleaner,” some said. “It’s a government drone,” said others. But it just wasn’t, couldn’t be true. Offlaw knew the Behemoth wasn’t some token Walk-A-Landfill, just like he knew that the structures it devoured were not always deserted. He’d been to the Dead Zone, right before it came through. He’d seen.
The Govies, of course, always assured they had it handled – sometimes, they even went so far as to claim the Behemoth’s ownership. Offlaw knew better. He worked as a custodian in one of their labs, but it was at night that he would reap the real benefits: their research, maps, and photos. With them, he’d quickly concluded that the Govies didn’t understand the Behemoth, let alone own it.
The Acid Plume is a dangerous knot of toxic gas at its base that dissolves everything, one of their reports had read. As with the others Offlaw had taken a photo of it, though he didn’t believe it. The Govies frequently broadcasted their so-called “hazardous” Plume experiments, but the biohazard containers in the lab never contained any gloves, or other protective gear. Liars, he’d thought on the way home that night. You won’t scare me away.
● Day One: I’m walking into the Plume
Offlaw traced a fingertip along his scrawling. How naive he’d been, then. Expecting to die, and yet dreading it. His heart had thundered so fiercely in his chest, in fact, that he’d worried his own body would kill him before the Plume did. It wouldn’t have been hard; the Behemoth was approaching at an agonizing pace.
It took hours for it to reach Offlaw. He remembered hearing the city groan as structures nearer and nearer to him were felled. And then the Plume: rolling toward him like a great fog. Offlaw could recall the length of the breath he’d sucked in, the number of times he’d damned it all to Hell -- what he didn’t remember, was how he first jumped in.
The memory resumed in a skyscraper-less milky yellow cloud that fizzed like the static on old Telerealities. A cloud that had then dispersed into clumps of tiny twittering things that had settled on Offlaw’s clothes. He’d swatted them off, noticing the holes in his clothes but his skin remained untouched, and to his surprise they did not retaliate, only emitted high-pitched sounds similar to an empty blender. Neither robotic nor organic. Both?
● Day Three: Here’s what I’ve gathered
The next two days Offlaw had spent trailing the Behemoth and -- as he’d come to call the horde of creatures -- its Swarm. Essentially, the Swarm was decomposing the city: covering a building and reducing it to rubble, then driving the rubble into the Behemoth’s underbelly. After that, Offlaw had no clue; each time he’d venture close to the Behemoth, the Swarm would force him back.
I need a different approach,
he’d thought, gazing longingly at the Behemoth’s base. I need to see where the debris goes. A day later, Offlaw was on the
roof of an abandoned hospital, studying the wake behind the Behemoth. He had
rarely ventured behind the Behemoth, always running from it’s path. A handful
of structures were left untouched. What?
Why these, and never his home? The question had boiled Offlaw’s brain.
Later that day, the Behemoth had been nearing a familiar place: the Industrial Ironwick Library. The palatial blocks and steps of granite comforted Offlaw, as he’d left the Behemoth’s side, venturing ahead of it to explore the IIL. So beautiful, he’d thought; not that its beauty would save it.
The library was vacant now anyway, its workers having already packed up the holobooks and marble desks, leaving it a dusty shell. Offlaw had felt his insides twist at the sight, and to console himself he decided he would hide inside and crumble with it, a proper send-off for the both of them. Even empty, the inside mimicked the grandeur of the exterior. The IIL reminded Offlaw of those lucky buildings standing strong in the Behemoth’s wake. That’s it! The thought hit him.
With crumbling buildings next to the IIL, and the Behemoth headed right for Offlaw, the Swarm surrounded the library like a wave hitting a rock. Only the library stayed dry. He was finally in. As the Behemoth floated closer, the sound of the Swarm intensified, only interpreted by a nearby collapsing building.
Later that day, the Behemoth had been nearing a familiar place: the Industrial Ironwick Library. The palatial blocks and steps of granite comforted Offlaw, as he’d left the Behemoth’s side, venturing ahead of it to explore the IIL. So beautiful, he’d thought; not that its beauty would save it.
The library was vacant now anyway, its workers having already packed up the holobooks and marble desks, leaving it a dusty shell. Offlaw had felt his insides twist at the sight, and to console himself he decided he would hide inside and crumble with it, a proper send-off for the both of them. Even empty, the inside mimicked the grandeur of the exterior. The IIL reminded Offlaw of those lucky buildings standing strong in the Behemoth’s wake. That’s it! The thought hit him.
With crumbling buildings next to the IIL, and the Behemoth headed right for Offlaw, the Swarm surrounded the library like a wave hitting a rock. Only the library stayed dry. He was finally in. As the Behemoth floated closer, the sound of the Swarm intensified, only interpreted by a nearby collapsing building.
● Day Ten : It’s almost gone
An orange glow washed over the Swarm. The sun’s setting, Offlaw realized. He craned his neck from his soggy pillow, checking the platform. It was empty, so he checked the Swarm. It hovered in the street, completely nonchalant.
“I know you’re watching me,” someone drawled. Offlaw blinked, surprised to find words falling from his own lips, and wetness gathering beneath his eyelashes. “I know you see me, on this building you’ve chosen to ignore. All I want is to know is why do you…” Offlaw’s throat shuddered, and he covered his face with his hands, smelling his own filth.
Somewhere above him, footsteps clanged on metal.
Instantly Offlaw was on his feet, one hand firmly gripping his Masetaser, the other wiping his eyes. The platform was a little to the left now, as the Behemoth moved, but still visable.
“Where are you!?” Offlaw called. Then, “Why do you do it!?”
It was quiet for a few seconds. Then, a tall, lanky man dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and black pants, approached the railing.
“Why do you do it,” Offlaw asked again, trembling.
When
the man did not reply, he threw his Masetaser to the ground, screaming, “Who do you think you are? Inside this thing that’s chased me all my life? And now that
I’m here, now that I’m not running,
you won’t even take me? Why do you do it!?”
The man gazed at him, not quite condescending but not kindly either. Fascination? Offlaw wondered. Disgust?
Offlaw stared back.
“Why do you do it?” the man said.
“Wha...what?” Offlaw uttered.
“Build.”
The machine lurched then, and the Swarm flared hot orange, and Offlaw’s back slapped the pavement. No, he thought, as his mind floated above him, stay awake!
But by the time he came to, all that remained of the Behemoth and the Swarm was a trail of ruffled earth. Who will believe me? he’d thought, who will enter the next unwanted beautiful building with me?
The man gazed at him, not quite condescending but not kindly either. Fascination? Offlaw wondered. Disgust?
Offlaw stared back.
“Why do you do it?” the man said.
“Wha...what?” Offlaw uttered.
“Build.”
The machine lurched then, and the Swarm flared hot orange, and Offlaw’s back slapped the pavement. No, he thought, as his mind floated above him, stay awake!
But by the time he came to, all that remained of the Behemoth and the Swarm was a trail of ruffled earth. Who will believe me? he’d thought, who will enter the next unwanted beautiful building with me?
A