Descending Road - HIS MOUTH TRIED TO CLOSE by Dana W. Paxson

HIS MOUTH TRIED TO CLOSE

1563 4D

The autocart said to Deen, “I need a new battery seal. I’m supposed to ask you to buy a TringValue 400X — they’ll give me an extra jolt of ambimethox.” The cart toddled slowly homeward with Deen and Marra and a load of triffel, husks, stalks, and grain, purchased from a neighbor.

“That’s fine, Plod,” Deen said. A clacking sound made her look up.

“Tononnsars. Is there something dead out here?” Marra pointed up at the two gigantic flyers circling lower ahead of them. The autocart approached the top of a rise, where the road bent downward again toward the farm. Mountain peaks rose close on the right, and across a broad valley on the left. The flyers, carrion eaters, kept the mountainsides clean.

“The road was clear when we came up.” Deen stood up from her seat in the from of the cart. Trig sniffed, whined, then raced ahead, barking. He disappeared off the side of the road.

“Trig! Come here!” Marra commanded. The dog had gone into a stand of roadside flowers — Deen watched his tail stand still, quivering.

The cart drew even with the dog, and Deen said, “Stop here.” She got down and started to call to Trig. A body lay in the flowers.

It was a man, or it had been one. Its clothes were ripped into bloody tatters, sliced and chopped as if by a thousand knives. “Marra,” Deen whispered, “It’s a…"

“He’s cut all over!” Marra came to stand beside her.

“He’s still breathing. Let’s pick him up.” Deen knelt close, touched the matted cloth and skin.

Marra leaned over her. “It’s the corpos did this. We shouldn’t—“

“Come on, Marra. Let’s stick him under the triffel. It’s not heavy, and he’ll be able to breathe.”

“But remember what they did to Tellian? Just like this one. Only he was dead. And when Fenz tried to pick him up they—"

“I know, I know, but sunset’s coming soon.” Deen reached under the body, feeling the blood still warm on her hands and arms. She regretted their feud with Oortonel and Aoriver now. “Besides, Fenz didn’t keep his mouth shut. That’s what got him killed.”

Marra pouted. “All right, Deen. But I’m keeping an eye out.” She took the man’s legs carefully.

Deen raised him by the chest, grunting with the effort; even though he wasn’t very large, he was solid. His skin oozed more blood as she lifted. When he groaned, she almost dropped him.

“Don’t talk,” she said, elbowing their bundles of triffel aside. The two women set him down tenderly in the autocart bin; Deen took a pad from the seat, lifted the man’s head, and set the pad underneath. His skin was crosshatched with knife cuts, fluid running and stiffening all over him. His eyes opened, blinked rapidly, closed again. Deen‘s stomach clenched. This was so brutal, worse than anything she’d seen.

Marra found a bottle and trickled a little water onto his lips. His mouth tried to close, his tongue worked.

“Quiet,” said Deen firmly. “We’ll get you to a quiet place and then you can talk.” She said to the autocart, “Plod, time to go. Home, please.” The sun descended toward the mountain edges.

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	HIS MOUTH TRIED TO CLOSE 1563 4D The autocart said to Deen, “I need a new battery seal. I’m supposed to ask you to buy a TringValue 400X — they’ll give me an extra jolt of ambimethox.” The cart toddled slowly homeward with Deen and Marra and a load of triffel, husks, stalks, and grain, purchased from a neighbor. “That’s fine, Plod,” Deen said. A clacking sound made her look up. “Tononnsars. Is there something dead out here?” Marra pointed up at the two gigantic flyers circling lower ahead of them. The autocart approached the top of a rise, where the road bent downward again toward the farm. Mountain peaks rose close on the right, and across a broad valley on the left. The flyers, carrion eaters, kept the mountainsides clean. “The road was clear when we came up.” Deen stood up from her seat in the from of the cart. Trig sniffed, whined, then raced ahead, barking. He disappeared off the side of the road. “Trig! Come here!” Marra commanded. The dog had gone into a stand of roadside flowers — Deen watched his tail stand still, quivering. The cart drew even with the dog, and Deen said, “Stop here.” She got down and started to call to Trig. A body lay in the flowers. It was a man, or it had been one. Its clothes were ripped into bloody tatters, sliced and chopped as if by a thousand knives. “Marra,” Deen whispered, “It’s a…" “He’s cut all over!” Marra came to stand beside her. “He’s still breathing. Let’s pick him up.” Deen knelt close, touched the matted cloth and skin. Marra leaned over her. “It’s the corpos did this. We shouldn’t—“ “Come on, Marra. Let’s stick him under the triffel. It’s not heavy, and he’ll be able to breathe.” “But remember what they did to Tellian? Just like this one. Only he was dead. And when Fenz tried to pick him up they—" “I know, I know, but sunset’s coming soon.” Deen reached under the body, feeling the blood still warm on her hands and arms. She regretted their feud with Oortonel and Aoriver now. “Besides, Fenz didn’t keep his mouth shut. That’s what got him killed.” Marra pouted. “All right, Deen. But I’m keeping an eye out.” She took the man’s legs carefully. Deen raised him by the chest, grunting with the effort; even though he wasn’t very large, he was solid. His skin oozed more blood as she lifted. When he groaned, she almost dropped him. “Don’t talk,” she said, elbowing their bundles of triffel aside. The two women set him down tenderly in the autocart bin; Deen took a pad from the seat, lifted the man’s head, and set the pad underneath. His skin was crosshatched with knife cuts, fluid running and stiffening all over him. His eyes opened, blinked rapidly, closed again. Deen‘s stomach clenched. This was so brutal, worse than anything she’d seen. Marra found a bottle and trickled a little water onto his lips. His mouth tried to close, his tongue worked. “Quiet,” said Deen firmly. “We’ll get you to a quiet place and then you can talk.” She said to the autocart, “Plod, time to go. Home, please.” The sun descended toward the mountain edges.