Deserted (15 page)

I popped
the lid off with ease, losing it in the piles of sand around us. It no longer
mattered, though. With no sound but my horse’s short breaths in the now still
night, I poured a spot of the medicine into my palm. “You know this is for the
best…” I murmured to no one in particular.

Then, with
one quick motion I slathered the medicine over
Ponika’s
dangerous wound and he kicked out in pain, barely missing my own knees. “I
know, buddy, I know. It’s
gonna
hurt before it heals.
You just
gotta
relax.”

I rubbed
the mixture around the scar and watched as the silver liquid quickly went to
work, pouring into the tissue and restructuring it. I took a few more globs and
rubbed it around his other scratches, afraid the toxins might try to manifest
themselves somewhere else. And that was it – the panacea was now gone. I tried
to get a few last drops out of the canister all the same, though. It was a very
slow process but I managed to get a small droplet, which I quickly rubbed
against my own wound. It tingled slightly and within a few seconds the sensation
was gone. What good that might have done, I wasn’t sure, but it was worth a
shot. I flexed my arm and while it still felt sore at the shoulder, it no
longer felt so numb. I allowed myself to grow hopeful – maybe I would be okay,
although the air still ripped at my flesh and caused it to ache in small
bursts. It didn’t close up like I had hoped, but maybe the contagion was gone?

Ponika’s
breathing started to even out and his wound was almost
non-existent now. I smiled at him, but I still had a nagging feeling in my gut.
I patted
Ponika
as he slowly attempted to get up and
I tried to will away my bad feeling, but deep down I knew the truth. It was all
just wishful thinking – I had resigned myself to death.

           
With a few scraps of bandages still salvageable in my First Aid kit, I fixed up
my shoulder as best as I could. It still throbbed occasionally – usually when
the wind picked up – but for the most part, I felt alright…good, even.

           
I don’t know which direction we had taken off in after the attack. I was taking
care of myself as best I could while I let
Ponika
choose a new route. It had been a long, dreary day; no storms, scarce
wind…nothing
but the ever-blazing sun to keep us company as
we pressed on. There were shadows in the distance, though; figures that I
stayed hopeful in thinking were the outlines of a town. Night was nearly upon
us when
Ponika
and I finally arrived at the
silhouettes we had seen all day; yet another deserted town. This one, however,
appeared to be immaculate; even better than the houses back home, actually.
There was no path through the town but merely six large homes on either side of
me. They were all identical two-storey homes with white picket fences and a bright
green yard out front. My eyes widened in excitement when I noticed the grass
but my hopes were quickly dashed as I got near them. It wasn’t real; for some
reason they had artificial turf for a yard. Why would someone want that?

           
“Sorry
Ponika
; looks like you’re stuck with oats for
tonight.” I patted his mane and noticed him tense up at the touch. “You’re
alright,
Ponika
; there’s nothing out here to be
worried about.” I assumed he was starting to grow nervous about the oncoming
night.

           
We wandered slowly through the town, taking in each home’s façade. Their
resemblance was uncanny; they looked exactly like the homes I had seen on
magazine covers back in our town’s library. I didn’t think those homes still
existed yet here there were; I had always wanted to own one.

           
“Well, what do you think, boy?” I had stopped and took in the view around me.
“Should we stop for supplies? Can never have too many, you know.”
Ponika
seemed to ignore my words as he glanced around, his
ears pricking up every so often at sounds I couldn’t hear. “Alright, wait here
bud; I’ll go see what I can find.” I patted his back briefly and went inside
the closest house.

           
The inside was immaculate. I had entered into a living room with faint pink
wallpaper and beige carpeting, with beautiful paintings on the wall of forests
and oceans and some framed pictures of children. Yes, that’s right; actual
photographs. My heart leapt at the thought of a camera possibly being inside
these homes. There was a white sofa across from me and a loveseat to my left,
along with fake potted plants in the corners and on the coffee table. Behind
the loveseat was the doorway to the kitchen; my first destination.

           
It was a rather spacious kitchen, though I suppose it only seemed that way
because there were no tables or chairs within it. The wallpaper appeared to
have some kind of floral design upon it and the floor was made of a pristine
white tile. The fridge looked brand new but there was nothing within it and the
same went for the shining white stove. The countertops were spotless and a
small pile of dishes were stacked next to the sink, with a row of small mugs
and plates lining up beside the pile. I was taken aback at first. After finding
nothing in the fridge and stove I flung open the cupboards. The majority of
them were empty but the ones that weren’t were filled to the brim with goodies.
I had stared at them wide-eyed; even the campsite’s supplies could not compare
to the mound of food before me. I packed as much as I could into my backpack
and prayed I would find this place again in the future. I grabbed a large cup
from the counter and tried the tap, not expecting anything and yet getting a
full stream of water instead. Rinsing any dust and debris out of the dish I
hurried the now full cup out to
Ponika
; I was sure he
would enjoy the ice cold water.

           
“
Ponika
!”
I called out to
him but his attention was continuously elsewhere. “Look what I have for you.”

           
I had run out to meet him in the centre of the town, excitedly holding the
splashing cup out in front of me. As soon as I held the cup to his snout,
however, he recoiled and whinnied defiantly at me. I was confused…why didn’t he
want water?

           
“Everything alright, bud?” I held the cup steady in my hands this time and
tried to offer it to him again but he backed away and shook his head wildly.
Was the dish still dirty, maybe? It looked pretty clear to me…but since when
has a little dirt stopped either of us? Perhaps he was still on edge from what
happened at the lab…I know I for one was still reeling from it. Patting his
back softly, I raised the cup to my own lips instead.

 “Don’t
worry,
Ponika
; everything is going to be okay now.” I
had barely finished my sentence when my horse went crazy, thrashing around and
neighing at me.

           
“What?” I asked him, lowering the drink. His eyes seemed transfixed on the cup
as he calmed himself.

           
I raised the mug to my face once again and
Ponika
instantly danced around me again, his head shaking violently.

           
“Alright, alright…I won’t drink it.” I tossed the cup aside, spilling the water
onto the false grass.

           
Ponika
watched it tumble as he calmed in his
prancing. I wasn’t sure what was going on but his demeanour was starting to
worry me; what exactly happened to him? With my horse still seeming on edge I
gave him some water from my bags. Oddly enough, he drank it instantly but still
gave the mug on the ground a wide berth.

           
“I’m going to check for more supplies…” I spoke to him, expecting another
reaction but he stared out into the wasteland instead. Grabbing a few handfuls
of oats from my backpack I made a small pile on the ground for him to eat from
and I left him to his own devices.

           
I had planned on checking all the homes there and while the thought of a camera
was still fresh on my mind, I was curious to see the inside of the other homes
around me. With a last glance at my horse I entered the neighbouring house
..
It was…eerily similar to the first. It contained the same
colour scheme, same furniture with the same layout…even the exact same
portraits on the wall.

           
“What?” I murmured as I stared down the face of a young, brown-haired boy in a
photograph. “You were just next door…” I studied his picture carefully; his
blue school uniform with his perfectly managed hair and studious
expression…yep, this was the same kid from next door, all right.

           
I scanned the photographs that lay above him and they were the same as well; a
woman who I assumed was his mother was placed directly above his head and an
older gentleman – a father – lay directly to the right of her.
Same placement and same stone-faced people from the previous house.
“Why would they have the same…?” I trailed off as I looked up into their eyes;
eyes which seemed to watch my every movement.

           
“Same family…” I eventually whispered. Must be a large and close-knit family
that belonged to all these houses; the pictures were probably someone’s daughter,
or aunt, or grandson or niece or any other relative under the sun. “Creepy…but
it works I guess.”

           
I smiled slightly at them as I turned and continued on my search for supplies.
The kitchen was once again my first destination and I was a little irritated by
how similar it was to the previous house. “You even line your dishes the same
way?
Really?”

The
kitchen was exactly the same; the tiles were a faded white and the dishes were
perfectly stacked and lined next to the sink, just like the previous home. “I
wonder which one will have…” I stopped short as I opened my assumed cupboard
and sure enough, mounds of food greeted me. “Huh.” I merely grunted the sound
in response to my own thoughts. “Maybe it’s time to see what the second floor
has in store.” Slamming the cupboard doors shut, I headed back to the living
room and proceeded up the stairs that were embedded into the back wall of the
house.

           
There was a small landing at the top of the stairs that opened up into a very short
hallway that appeared to be more like a second floor foyer than a corridor.
There was once again a white loveseat that sat next to a small coffee table and
fake plants dotted the corners of the room. A rather regal looking bookshelf
stood tall on the opposite side of the room but there was nothing within it;
not even a stray paper. I shouldn’t have been surprised but I was; why have a
bookshelf and no books? Jutting out from the main room were two bedrooms that
appeared identical from my spot outside them. I sauntered inside the bedroom on
the left and found the room actually lacking in furnishings. There was a large
four-post bed in the centre of the room and a dresser near the window that was
full of rich-looking clothing for both men and women but otherwise the room
felt very empty. The bed, however, appeared immaculate and almost as though it
had never been slept in and the clothing that hung inside the wardrobe was
spotless. I wasn’t really sure why but I assumed that people must still live
here; they must keep the places constantly tidy but it does beg the question;
if that’s true then where are they now? I checked briefly near the bed and the
two drawers on the wardrobe, looking for anything worth taking but everything
was squeaky clean; no camera and certainly no sign of the men I was looking
for. I wasn’t ready to give up just yet, though; I entered the second bedroom
and by now I was no longer surprised that it was the exact same. The bed, the
wardrobe, the positioning and the colours…everything was a perfect mirror of
the room next door; even the same shirts and blouses.

           
“This is starting to feel like a little bit more than just family homes…”

           
With nothing to show for my scavenging I went back outside and was immediately aware
of how dark the sky had become.  I joined
Ponika
and saw that he did not touch the food I had left for him, causing most of it
to blow away in the wind. I was a little annoyed at the waste at first but I
was mostly just concerned; was
Ponika
sick?

           
“Everything alright, boy?”
I patted his mane and
offered more oats from my bag but he still refused.  “You need to eat,
buddy…” I continued to pat him as I gave him
a
once-over. He appeared to be okay – his wounds were completely healed. He was quite
alert still, twisting his ears at the slightest gust of wind. I had hoped that
it was merely his nerves and that he would calm down once we settled in for the
night, which was coming on soon.

           
“C’mon
Ponika
; let’s rest up inside for the night and
explore the rest in the morning.” I urged him towards the nearest house, hoping
he would stay inside with me but he vehemently refused. Something about these
houses bothered him but I had no idea why; something that happened while he was
gone or before I met him, maybe? I was skeptical of him staying outside but in
the end I decided he was smart enough to know how to run from danger. I propped
the door to the house wide open just in case though.