Escape Beyond the Barriers

By Miik YS

Sailor flees her home to avoid an attack by gang members. She stashes herself in the garage of her neighbor, Timi, who invents equipment at a military black site and who also tinkers in his garage. One of the gang members, Rocky, tails her into the garage, so Sailor takes her chances with Timi’s invisibility device still under development instead of facing the gang’s violence.
Rather than become invisible, Sailor transports to a world, Notia, in another universe, but Rocky pursues her there. The ruler or caretaker for that territory, Slick, dips into the minds of all living creatures as easily as dipping a toe into water. Meanwhile, Timi supposes his device killed his neighbor, so he struggles with ironing out the final kinks in it while his boss, the colonel, schemes to get his hands on it.
Sailor’s driving urge to return home pales with the possible military invasion of Notia by the colonel. Compounding that with the decimation of Earth as well leaves Sailor, Timi, and Slick as the only three to avert the destruction of two worlds.
The story celebrates individualism and friendship. It also challenges the notion that striving toward a goal is the only way to reach it. As Slick says, “A better strategy sometimes is to escape what binds you to your particular rut, break through the barriers restraining you, so to speak, and then your paths to possibilities open up.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Miik YS
• Release date: Sep 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463497487

Miik YS

The story is important, not me. I craft stories that are enjoyable at a surface level. The works include other levels of imagery, symbolism, and meaning should the reader want to delve deeper into the stories.

Book preview

Chapter One

The Unwelcome in the Clearing

Sailor sprawled in the dirt of a clearing between a forest and a river. The canopy of stars and the three moons, one crescent, one about half full, and a large full one, shed about as much light as on a gloomy day. To her right, black clouds threatened. She scrambled to her feet while chafing her tattoo-covered arms in the cool air. Since she scuffed marks in the dirt on arrival with her body and feet, she scraped an 'x' with her heel to mark her spot on the ground before fetching a branch. She tucked her blue hair behind her ears as she stepped three paces from the 'x' and gouged a circle in the dirt around her 'x'. She plunked down in the center of the zone boundary she just drew in the clearing.

Spitteler, are you there? Is this where you went? No wonder you didn't come back. I'll bet this is a much better hunting ground than our backyards, hmm? She paused. Spitteler? She waited with only the silence keeping her company. The other stuff came back, so we should be able to as well. She raised her voice because a rumble of thunder echoed closer. Come on, I think all we need to do is wait here in the zone for the timer to reverse the process. Come on, girl. You don't want to be here all alone, do you? Won't Timi be stunned to learn what he really did? She doodled in the dirt, and her voice dropped to a whisper. We aren't exactly invisible, are we?

***

A breeze kicked up as Sailor hunched cross-legged in the zone in the clearing. She leaned forward and braced herself with her hands on the cool ground as images and sensations flooded over her.

A porch stocked with a bicycle, a small backpack, a pocketknife, and a worn adventure novel abutted a wooded area. The woods grew dark after only a few paces in. Magic flowed between the trees and tangled with the underbrush. Whispers beckoned from a nearby cave with all the happy souls from so many ages that penetrated never to dream of departing. It furnished a portal to many worlds enabling anyone to devote a day light-years from the porch and the banality connected to it in the house.

Scents of pine and leaf dust coated the nooks and hollows of the woods where dreams sprouted more numerous than mushrooms after a rain. An area of boulders served as a battleground to face the giants who scattered the slabs and the wee ones who darted among the cracks and crevices. All paid homage to the king of the hill. Awe frolicked with unlimited possibilities while hope embraced any explorer who dared immerse herself or himself in the streams of wonder.

But then sadness crushed the throat of awe under its boot while desolation raped hope. The shabby porch of a ramshackle house, sagging under the crusted bicycle, the moldering backpack, the rusted shut pocketknife, and the sodden novel no longer legible, flanked a clump of dying trees. Visible through the trees, meandered the next street over, another dead-end. In between, a rock overhang that once granted shelter for a stray dog to birth its pups now reeked of urine and vomit. A few rusted and broken lawn chairs marked where even delinquents dared not waste their time anymore among the muck and the trash. The cacophony of nearby traffic and arguments spotlighted the area's decay while despair crouched ready to pounce on anyone foolish enough to venture in.

Sailor shook her head a few times. She still hunkered in the zone in the clearing of the forest. That was trippy. Spitteler, come on, girl, let's get out of here, she yelled. Come on, I'll help you escape. Maybe there's acid in the air. Don't you want to go home?

***

Sekoittavien stretched to her full sixteen foot height as she yawned. She only vaguely resembled a double-sized, more muscular polar bear because of her white shaggy fur. Atop her head grew shimmery transmitters and receptors reminiscent of antlers, adding another three feet to her height, and she always walked upright. Those antennae enabled her to dip into the minds of all lifeforms in her territory as easily as dipping a toe in water. With no eyes or ears, and hands with long curved claws at the tips of her fingers, she cast an imposing figure from any distance.

She sauntered through the forest of Notia with the three moons playing peek-a-boo with the gathering clouds. She radiated feeler waves, since as caretaker she oversaw her vast territory. Her people with their primitive language in the various caverns busied themselves with preparing supper. The larger clan in the valley did, too, but many there still harbored animosity at how the clan leaders distributed food and decided issues affecting the whole clan. She bathed in the antagonism bubbling in her pets while she dipped into their minds to peruse their thoughts and emotions.

However, independent people radiated contentment as they wandered the forests of her territory, either alone or with a mate, because they steered clear of the clans. One independent woman, Furacak, portended much promise since she reasoned through situations and issues more deeply than most, but then she died, or at least she ceased to exist from one instant to the next. Being a caretaker meant tending and nurturing her people, her pets, but she bestowed on them the latitude to shape their own lives and make their own mistakes, even if life threatening. Her pets flourished, although some harbored some drama, while the other critters of the forest focused on where their next meal might pop up.

A thought caressed her mind from miles away. Sekoittavien, this is Rava. I'm giving you a courtesy request that I'll need to pass through your territory to return home.

How are you, Rava? How is your mother? Sekoittavien never uttered a word as she planted the sentiment in his mind; caretakers communicated telepathically.

She passed away. Rava beamed Sekoittavien an image of his mother's funeral from his memory.

I'm sorry. I didn't know. Why did you shield that from us caretakers?

I shouldn't have, I know, but I had a hard time dealing with her death. She was the last of my family. Soon, I'll be gone, too. I needed to be alone for a while, so I sealed off my mind during the grieving process. And then I opted to forgo the traditional funeral rites.

I understand. Sekoittavien squashed images and impressions of Rava's illness ravaging his mind. Instead, she directed Rava peaceful images and sensations ending with an image and the sensation of a hug.

Later, as Sekoittavien felled a massive dead tree so it acted as a bridge for the smaller woodland creatures to traverse a small ravine, a disturbance washed over her. She froze and paused for it to fade away, but it didn't.

Rava, do you feel that?

I do, Sekoittavien. I didn't know how to interpret that sensation. This is your territory, so I assumed you did something.

No, I don't know what to make of it, either. I've received much weaker sensations similar to it, but this time is different. Sekoittavien darted toward the disturbance miles away. She forwarded the sensation to all the caretakers telepathically. She also requested any information about it. Would you join me where it emanates from, Rava? This could be important.

Of course. I'll intersect your path before we get there.

Responses poured in from thousands of caretakers in their far off territories who received Sekoittavien's message for information. No one contributed anything useful about the disturbance.

***

A force scooched Sailor in the dirt without her flexing a muscle. She pressed her palms onto the dirt to prevent her movement, but the force pressing on her back intensified. When she craned her neck, nothing lingered behind her, not even a breeze. She flailed her right arm at whatever heaved her, so no hand braced her on that side. The invisible power toppled and rolled her to near the edge of the circle in the dirt marking the zone. She scrambled to her feet.

Rocky materialized with a pfft, standing where Sailor had been sitting. You think I'll let you ruin my-- What the fuck? Rocky twitched his head in many directions with his eyes bulging. He settled his eyes on Sailor. What the fuck did you do to me? He twirled the chain in his hand.

I didn't do shit. What are you doing here?

Me? What about you? What did you do?

I told you, I didn't--

Don't screw with me. We were-- A clap of thunder distracted him as the clouds, nearly overhead, crowded the sky. He marched a few paces first in one direction then another and another, examining the clearing and the surrounding forest. Hitting one tree with his free hand and a few others with the chain, he finally dropped his chain and picked up a handful of dirt. He squeezed it and tossed it aside. He plucked some long grass from the clearing and sniffed it.

Sailor inched toward the center of the zone.

Don't you move. You don't do a damned thing until you explain what's going on here.

No, we need to be in the zone.

"We don't need to do anything. You need to explain--"

Fine, whatever you want, but first we need to get--

He drew his pistol as he stormed over to her and shoved her to the ground well outside the zone. You seem to have a problem following directions. If I need to hurt you, I will. Now explain what you did. Rocky raised the hand with the pistol as he stood over her. I don't hear any explanation yet. You ever been pistol-whipped? It hurts like hell.

But we're running out of time.

Then you better talk fast. He lowered his arm.

I don't understand all of what's happened to us. My neighbor, the one whose garage we were in--

Are in.

Go ahead and waste time if you want to be here forever. Sailor brushed off her backside. My neighbor, Timi, invents stuff.

Like that stupid gun that didn't work?

Yeah, but that doesn't do what you think. Anyway, I turned on the timer for a machine he's working on right now, the TID. He thought it made things invisible when he showed it to me.

We aren't invisible.

No shit. That's what I'm trying to explain to you. I somehow came here when I turned on the timer and moved into the active zone in the garage. I'm guessing you stepped into that area after me?

Rocky nodded. So where is here?

I have no freaking idea.

So how do you know anything about this?

Timi and I are neighbors. We talk. Can we stand in the zone... that area I marked with a circle? She pointed. See?

How do I know I can trust you? You know I'm after you to bring you to the boss. It's more likely you'll tell me something to hurt me. It's more likely you set a trap for me. He walked around the outside edge of the circle.

First, I didn't know I'd go anywhere; I thought I'd become invisible. Second, I didn't know I'd come to this particular place, so how could I have time to set a trap. And third, how the hell could I know you'd follow me? Now we both need to stand there. If I wanted to get rid of you, I'd stand in the zone and I'd have you wait outside it. Do you want to do that? She stepped toward the circle.

Rocky raised his gun. Not so fast. He positioned himself between Sailor and the circle. This sounds like so much bullshit to me. You slipped me something, didn't you? This is some kind of hallucination, isn't it?

Listen to me. I turned a timer knob to activate the TID. It's just like one on a toaster-oven. When it counts down to the end, the machine ends its cycle. Just before it turns off, it reverses what it does, so it brings back whatever it sent away. We need to be in that circle when it does that.

How do you know it'll bring us back?

I can explain more once we're in the circle. Sailor moved her left foot.

Rocky shoved his gun in her face. How do you know!

Because simple things like a board and a box came back. If the machine sent us here, it'll pull us back if we're in time. There's no time to lose. If we aren't in that zone when the timer ends, there'll be no escaping this place.

How do you know we have to be inside that circle?

Oh, for God--

How! he roared.

Because Spitteler, Timi's cat, dove into the zone by mistake. She didn't come back. I'm guessing she ran out of the zone.

You take one more step, and you'll take a bullet.

***

A strong gust kicked up, so Sailor clung to a tree branch to brace herself against the notion about to overwhelm her. Rocky's eyes dilated.

A desolate road wound past pastures devoid of any grazing animals. Beyond the right side of the road, the land sloped gently down for miles, punctuated by stone walls and shrubs to divide the fields into countless farms. The springtime snow still refused to release from its clutches the patches in the fields as the bitter winds herded the overcast canopy to beckon back the winter and to insulate the landscape from summer's delicate fondling.

On the left side of the road, a dairy farm sprawled dead at the edge of more fields. One of its barns, rotted, half eaten away, spread its doors to display its desolation inside. The farmhouse flapped its broken doors in the icy winds. The elm tree beside the house contributed one of its trunk forks to the house roof, which ripped wide open; the other half of the trunk still stood erect, but it dropped the tire swing it had supported.

Eruptions out of the soil around the farm vibrated the house and barns to dust. The sprouting stone stretched skyward, swallowing the farm and all of the surrounding pastures. The ground leveled as the stone, brick, steel, and glass reached ever higher to form a city. Asphalt flowed like lava, snaking between the various sized buildings. No sooner had the buildings attained their full height than they exhibited accelerated decay. Even the roads dried, cracked, and crumbled. Windows shattered, facades crumbled. A few structures imploded under their own weight, and others canted at perilous angles.

A middle-aged woman hovered beside her teenage daughter in one of those structures. The window they huddled behind splintered to the ground far below. They stepped back as a few fragments of glass shattered inside their apartment. They spun to scrutinize a black swirl that melted the door from the hallway and drifted into the living room. The terror gripping them swelled so large, so the mom snagged a shard of glass off the floor. It sliced into her fingers as she brandished it. Her blood dribbled down her forearm and dripped from her elbow. The daughter hugged her mother around the waist; unable to tear her eyes away from the black swirl that floated nearer.

The mother slashed at the blackness, which only swirled more. She glanced at her transfixed daughter. In a flash, the mom pulled her daughter's hair with her left hand to expose her daughter's neck. She plunged her right hand with the glass dagger into her daughter's juggler and sliced the weapon across her daughter's throat, ripping a fatal gash in it. The mother released her daughter's hair and hefted her around the waist to prop her up as her child's legs buckled. She staggered back two steps so they tottered at the windowsill. She slit her own throat while she leaned back. Mother and daughter sailed out the window and tumbled in slow motion.

Thousands of people just like them poured from the buildings onto the broken ground between the structures. Those bailing out near street level trampled one another while those from upper floors splattered themselves and those they landed on. The blackness floated out in pursuit. As it engulfed crowds of people with nowhere to run, it devoured them. The crowds it gobbled ceased to exist. The swirling blackness tolerated no satiety. It cleaved itself countless times to slurp up more and more people until it engulfed everything. It still grew until it absorbed the entire city and beyond. The ground ceased to exist, as did the sky. Existence itself transformed into the blackness, the emptiness.

Rocky staggered before dropping to his knees.

Sailor, shaken by her own, different, vision still clutched the tree branch for support.

***

As Sekoittavien trundled through the forest, a new disturbance radiated to her. She halted. A chill flowed down her spine. This is bad, very bad. Rava, approach with caution.

Rava zigzagged through a few more trees and emerged near Sekoittavien. Have they escaped from another territory?

They must have, but I fear not one anywhere near here. How could they simply flash into existence? Sekoittavien lingered until Rava strutted up to her. She clasped his upper arms as he did the same to her. After a moment, she released him and turned her back to her near carbon copy.

How could they travel so far without caretakers knowing? Rava pivoted his back to her to mirror her motions.

That's the most unlikely part. I don't understand it, either. Sekoittavien stepped backwards until her back contacted Rava's back. She tilted her head back until the backs of their heads bumped, careful not to intertwine their antennae. They remained in that position for a few seconds before terminating their formal greeting pose.

Sekoittavien led him near the clearing the two strangers occupied. They tucked themselves into the shadows of the trees and bushes. As Rocky shoved Sailor to the ground and raised his arm with the weapon, Sekoittavien placed her arm on Rava's shoulder to prevent him from interfering. She crouched, pressing her friend's shoulder so he crouched, too. Their language is different from our pets, but their thoughts are splayed for us. The patterns may be dissimilar, but there is sense in them.

So many of the references and memories are strange. They make me queasy.

They're difficult to relate to. Sekoittavien wiggled her fingers as if perusing an album collection; she picked through the minds of Sailor and Rocky. Part of our confusion is that these two are themselves confused.

Ah, that context helps. Do you think other caretakers taught them that language? Rava stood as his leg cramped.

Sekoittavien also rose to her feet. I wonder. I thought our network spanned this whole world. That's what we're taught.

Yes, but the proof is right there that other caretakers, not part of our network, had to have taught them.

Maybe they taught themselves the language. Sekoittavien shuffled aside some leaves on a branch. It could be they're from an isolated area. What if their caretaker died long ago, and we didn't know about it? Maybe they've been left to fend for themselves.

That's a stretch. For us not to know one of us passed away is hard to believe. Rava wiggled his right leg and kicked it in the air to work out the cramp.

Is it that much of a stretch? We don't scan one another's territories out of respect. Who knew your mother passed away?

Yes, but she no longer tended pets. She relinquished her duties before she grew too feeble. Besides, those that knew her felt her loss when she passed.

Right, but what if in an isolated place there was no one else to take over, and no other caretakers to feel the loss? If death came unexpectedly--

Pets without a caretaker?

I'm just considering possibilities. Something generated this situation. It's an unusual situation, so we shouldn't look to usual explanations. She tapped a claw against her lower lip.

Rava massaged his thighs.

You're in pain. Do you want to leave? I'm sorry. I was inconsiderate.

No, I want to observe more if you'll let me. Whether I stand still or walk, the pain is the same. There's actually nothing wrong with my legs; my mind creates the pain to keep in contact with my body. Otherwise, I'd die right away. Something intriguing like this takes my mind off the pain.

I know it's inappropriate to ask, Rava, but even regenerating your body can't correct your illness?

Come on, Sekoittavien, you know it can't. I already regenerated countless times since my symptoms first appeared.

As a breeze kicked up, Sekoittavien clutched Rava's arm. Oh, they're overwhelmed by the memories on the breeze. They haven't learned to handle them yet.

How can that be? Even child pets learn that when still very young.

Does that mean they didn't grow up here? Sekoittavien released Rava and squatted as she picked at Rocky's visions and sensations of the dairy farms and the city, flicking her fingers as if pawing through a card catalog.

If they didn't grow up here, that raises so many questions. I'm exhausted just thinking about them. Rava leaned against a tree trunk.

Indeed. The very concepts of a dairy farm and a city are so alien.

Is such a thing possible, to commit the primal taboo on your daughter and then on yourself, as he just envisioned? This is sickness itself.

I don't want to pluck at him anymore. Sekoittavien shook her whole torso while standing. His sensations and images are almost as bad as the real thing. I feel filthy just observing his mental activity.

Chapter Two

Patchwork

Sekoittavien stitched together the recent memories of Sailor and Rocky to construct a timeline of how they arrived in her territory. She broadcast the result to the other caretakers.

Two late model sports cars, each with the driver's side window smashed out, screeched to a halt in front of a house with peeling paint and a sagging porch on a Sunday afternoon in August. Five young men piled out of the first car while six young men clambered out of the second. They hurled beer bottles and insults at the house until all the men pulled themselves from the cramped cars. Most bottles smashed against the clapboard, although one smashed a narrow window beside the living room picture window.

The gang leader from the first car snatched one of the less burley men lagging behind from the second car and snarled, Remember what I told you, Rocky. You bring her to me, or else. You let her escape like last time, and you know what happens. He shoved Rocky up the steps. The rest of the men charged the house.

Ace, can't we talk about this? Rocky twisted his neck to face Ace although he still ascended the steps. Aren't you only making more problems--

Shut it and move. Ace stuck his finger in Rocky's face until it poked between his eyes. He prodded Rocky onward.

Sailor perched at her kitchen counter beside the pot of brewing coffee with an empty cup in her hand. Her finger twirled her blue hair, and then brushed some lint off her tank top. The smashing of bottles on the house outside and then the crash of the living room window drew her to the doorway between the two rooms. With the men already on the porch, she bolted back into the kitchen and escaped to the backyard through the backdoor.

The men burst through the front door. With the stairs leading to the second floor in line with the front door, most of the men stomped upstairs. They fanned out into the bedrooms and bathrooms whooping and ransacking along the way. When they didn't locate Sailor, they scoured the rooms for valuables. A few men remaining on the ground floor checked the living room before they went down a back hallway leading to the cellar.

Rocky straggled behind. He overlooked the backyard as he hovered in the kitchen by the window above the sink. He clutched a two-foot length of chain in his right hand like that used on swing sets. The part wrapped around his hand sported plastic sheathing while the rest remained exposed and stained with blood and a few pieces of skin. He adjusted the SIG Sauer P220 at the small of his back and whacked the sink with the chain as movement in the backyard attracted his attention. Got you, bitch, he muttered. You can't escape me.

Sailor dove through the hedges between her yard and Timi's.

Ace shouted to his men from the living room, She isn't here, but she can't be far. Surround the block and work your way back here. She won't get away.

Rocky sprinted out the backdoor toward the hedges.

***

Sailor dashed to Timi's detached garage. She pried opened the right double door just enough to slip inside then latched it behind her. She fumbled for a lock but found only the latch, so she dove into the darkness of the windowless garage.

Rocky wriggled through the hedges into the neighbor's yard behind the garage.

Timi, are you in here? Sailor held her hands in front of her in the pitch black until she stumbled into one of many rows of benches piled with junk parts; even the built-in shelves underneath overflowed with boxes, cans, and bulk parts. Timi, if you're here, they're back again. Watch out. She snatched a small part among many on the benches and wedged it under the door. She scurried to the back of the garage and tucked her small frame between carts of electronic and mechanical parts near Timi's main work area.

Rocky approached the detached garage. He glanced around. No one followed him from Sailor's backyard. No one roamed the sidewalk or the driveway, and no other hiding places presented themselves. He tugged on the right double door. He pulled harder, and harder still. It opened outward, so the door slid off the wedge under it. He yanked open the door a sliver and ducked inside. As he swung the door to, the triangle of light sneaking in with him dwindled until only blackness ruled the garage. He planted himself in front of the door. There he lingered a couple moments in the dark, allowing time for his eyes to adjust. I know you're in here. You might as well come out. There's nowhere for you to go.

Sailor crawled from her hideaway in the still pitch-black garage. She slithered on her belly under the shelf below a workbench to the next aisle and squatted beside another bench. Her hands danced over the contents on the bench above her head gently enough to avoid disturbing a feather. Her fingers alighted on a wooden stock. They traveled up to a trigger and further to a large diameter barrel. Her fingers caromed a piece of junk on top of the barrel, so she slowly shifted that part to the side and hefted the blunderbuss. She retraced her path