Putrid Delta Blues
By Genesis McClure
PERFUME OF THE DYING TREE CHAPTER INDEX - SHORT STORY INDEX - FALLING PAST THE LAST CHECKPOINT
Earth, 1992 - Dimension 8675309 - Putrid Delta
The cool breeze doesn't bring comfort on this side of the wall. It's hot and humid in a way that causes sweat to pour down like the water you wish you could drink. The air carries a smell you can't quite name. You know instinctively you don't want to breathe in enough that you may begin to taste it.
Seeing videos and reading research papers made me believe I was prepared. My bag is filled with trinkets, test gear, and anti-fungal sprays. I was so confident that I stood in front of my doctoral board and declared I would unlock whatever biological secret hid there as my thesis. I prepared, then I prepared more. Then I read more and studied more. There was even an alleged sample from someone who got to the other side of the wall that I analyzed until there was nothing left of it.
It was just after the brief video from a colleague got sent to me that the CIA showed up at my door and took all of my computers. I was convinced my dream was over. I had delved so deep down the rabbit hole that things I was sure could only be theory started clicking together like a bullet locked into the chamber.
I hear a low sloosh in the water then there is a gentle knock on my containment helmet. The knock reminds me how wrong I was about everything and that I need to pay attention.
In this Putrid Delta I can tell you the reason the fireflies move as fast as regular flies but not what to do if a swarm is coming for you. None of my countermeasures worked besides the suit that covers me head to toe. I would be dead if-
Another knock on my helmet a little less gentle this time.
“-Hello, McFly. Anybody in there?”
I would be dead if it wasn't for him…
He looks skinny as a beanpole but underneath that special suit are muscles on top of muscles compact and ready to tear things apart.
“You know I really hate when you do that, right?”
He would normally say something like, “You can always make like a tree and leave.”
Instead, he takes in a deep breath and lets it out with a sort of, “Sssshhhhh, hhhhhaaaahhhh,” sound made with extra static because of how close he gets to the microphone.
“Can't help it. I am a father.” He says in a voice that is abnormally deep and dramatic. I think it is some kind of epic movie line but I have never heard it before and don't get the reference.
The man's name is Jeff McClure. He is missing his shadow. He has more gadgets than the guy from the one cartoon I watched as a kid, Inspector Gadget. He is weird. So weird I get lost sometimes just trying to puzzle out what the heck he is saying. He is also strangely kind, like he literally let himself get impaled so I wouldn't die but he also acted like he was dead just long enough to give me a jump scare. I don't really know how to take him. If I hadn't personally watched him slice apart an eight foot tall tree demon I would definitely not believe he was some kind of bad ass.
His eyes twinkle as he looks at me.
“You’re thinking about how I sliced that Delegmon apart aren't you?”
I shake my head.
“I thought you didn't have any mind reading powers?”
“Kid, you don't need to read a mind when your partner's face gives away everything with a glance.”
He pats me on the shoulder gently.
“There is no better teacher to check yourself before you wreck yourself than being out in the field. Also-duck!”
The place behind the wall isn't at all what I thought it was. In fact, although there was some serious toxic waste here and there were some wild biological anomalies, that is not the full story.
There is a tree where the river splits. A giant tree. One with arms like tentacles, roots with thorns, and sometimes I swear that Jeff is talking to it about a girl he is really mad it tried to snatch away from him.
He slices apart the rotted limb that was crashing toward me like a tree trunk with ease.
I examine the way the wood covering that thing curls inward as black smoke crawls out of it and inside Jeff's very clearly sealed pant leg.
The thing on the ground is definitely part of what brought me here. I posited that a tree was infected with whatever they were trying to dispose of and that it somehow grew sentience. The theory I came up with to combat it is novel but Jeff is convinced it will work but only if I get enough and the right kind of samples.
Jeff has explained to me the hundreds of times he has already battled that thing on his own and that the real problem is that it can just eat and eat and eat to heal itself every time you cut it.
“How many more of those samples do you need?”
Jeff holds his pointer finger and middle finger up in the air and makes them look like they are talking to each other when he says samples.
“How close to a 100 percent certainty do we need to realistically not die?”
“How close to 100 can you get us?”
“With enough time I can probably get to within..”
Jeff raises his hand and tilts his head. Then his whole body lights up in that black flame and he falls through a dark hole that disappears the second his head goes under.
I shiver even though the air is blistering inside my suit.
Although I don't think he is dead I have to force myself to calculate the odds of his return in my head so I don't just go crying like a baby who hasn't been fed for a day.
It is always bad when he does that.
- - -
Jeff McClure, Earth, 1992 - Dimension 8675309 - Putrid Delta - At the foot of the corrupted World Tree, Dodana
“I heard you in there, you bastard! If you're still alive somehow that kid I am raising with Srey Pov better not be yours you giant phallic chode!”
A hiss like a strangled dragon trying to crow like a rooster assaults my mind in waves. Roots covered in toxic vapor come shooting out of the ground like spears at me.
“8675309 is supposed to be the number you call for a good time, you asshole!”
On instinct the shadow sword manifests into my hands and slices those spears into pieces, then the Delegmon who follow them.
I leave down through the same technique I came through before physical exhaustion can take me. Psychological exhaustion went out the door a long time ago but somehow I still keep going.
Hell, you haven't seen psychological warfare until you have seen a woman fight past the pain to push a human head out of her vagina.
After Srey Pov and I made it out of the prison complex I didn't bother to see if Dodana won or lost. I found her some clothes and coordinates for a still habitable universe.
I am no cosmic world tree whose existence travels across space and time continuously for eternity.
All I ever wanted was to get my woman back and leave it all behind.
The first time that little guy slept through the night though I knew we were in danger because Dodana started talking to me again. Mostly in whispers of Jeff every time I was in the produce section of the grocery store which was at least three times a week as Srey Pov always cooked.
Then cracks in the floorboards of the house started showing up. The walls creaked like something was trying to squeeze them apart.
Every single time I turned on the radio it was on the oldies and the same song would be playing.
When I emerge on the other side of the shadow step I look up at that kid shivering like he's gonna die at any moment.
Can't really blame him. Lord knows I was scared as hell when I was put in front of Dodana the first time.
Still have to chuckle to myself though as I strongly consider if I should make my hands into a fin shape, sink back down, and float toward him like a shadow shark while doing the jaws song.
- - -
Jeremy Baker, Earth, 1992 - Dimension 8675309 - Putrid Delta
Since there is nothing else to do I have been dissecting the creatures filled with roots covered in thorns as best I can. Jeff supplied me with a suitcase full of high tech scalpels and digital testing equipment for field study. He couldn't find his way past the most basic organic chemistry exam but if you know how to explain what you need to him in a simple enough way he has a remarkable ability to find a technological solution.
“Jeremy!”
I nearly cut a finger off as I dive into the direction furthest away from that yell.
“Jesus Christ man! What the hell is your deal?”
Jeff is slowly healing inside his suit but the burns across every inch of his exposed skin make him look like some kind of radiated mutant.
He smiles at me. “Gee, that's a lot for minimum wage.”
For some reason he stands like he is holding a mop.
I obviously don't get the reference.
He isn’t surprised.
A long beep back by where I jumped when he appeared behind me tells me that the sample is ready.
I go back and look through it. This last one was especially helpful. Something about the material inside of it leads me to believe it came from much deeper in the tree.
The biodiversity of this tree is wild. Most people don't really understand the way certain bark and wood can have whole entire civilizations of insects, birds, predators, and other creatures hiding in every crack and crevice. This one doesn't just have a few of those things, it holds a whole world. One that seems to be feeding them and helping them grow like a mother giving over her breast.
I go so deep in my head I don't even notice when Jeff goes for a second jump scare.
When I finally put another piece into the clear liquid to test the efficacy of the chemical reaction it will get, I smile for the first time since I landed in this hell-forsaken delta.
“It isn't a 100 percent but it is as close as we are likely to get.” I tell Jeff.
I think he is going to say something serious as I turn to face him but this is Jeff McClure after all so…
He plays air guitar. Bangs his head and wails out a chorus I have come to know as his happy song.
“8-6-7-5-3-0-9-e-ine!”
We test it on him first.
He keeps most of his suit on because of the special healing properties but he takes the helmet off.
Despite my protests to go slow. He chugs down the vial like he is taking a shot of whiskey.
I am sure that he is messing with me when he starts falling on the ground and convulsing but it becomes obvious when it goes on too long to be a joke that he isn't. Just when I move in to see if I can mitigate whatever is happening I hear a howl from one of the mutated wolves that Jeff slaughters like wheat from the field.
My PTSD from the last time I almost died fighting these things kicks into overdrive and I start running.
- - -
Jeff McClure, Earth, 1992 - Dimension 8675309 - Putrid Delta
When I originally fell to the floor it was definitely part of a gag. Although I am about 30 years too early for anyone to truly understand what trolling means in this time line, I have been trolling this kid for laughs since the second he showed up.
He's smart. He is so smart I honestly feel like an idiot every time I let him speak. I don't know anything about retrosynthetic analysis, pericyclic reactions, stereochemistry, or chiral selectivity but I 100 percent got him on movie references and pop songs so I try my damndest to make his face look like my face when I talk about that stuff.
Up until now there has been an equilibrium but face down in the mud with my tongue trying to crawl out of my mouth despite all protest, I feel like I may have cried wolf one too many times.
When the wolves start coming I know I am truly fucked. The universe has decided to troll me.
- - -
Jeremy Baker, Earth, 1992 - Dimension 8675309 - Putrid Delta - At the foot of the corrupted World Tree, Dodana
Like an idiot, I let myself be corralled right to the foot of that giant tree where monsters that make those corrupted wolves feel about as dangerous as baby kittens licking you with their dry tongues.
Inside the clearing that circles the tree like a wedding ring the wolves are too afraid to approach but that isn't a good sign.
I have barely a moment to catch my breath before something starts speaking to me directly inside my head in a language I don't recognize.
The beep telling me the second batch of the stuff that put Jeff on the ground in convulsions rings like a church bell calling me home or the final horn before the apocalypse. I don’t know which but I rip off my helmet and do my best Jeff McClure whiskey shot impression, then play dead.
The tree still lifts me off the ground and tosses me inside a mouth full of rotted bark that looks like someone shaved it into a predator's teeth, one layer at a time.
Inside a slimy black liquid I instantly recognize as stomach acid envelopes me from head to toe.
Gosh dangit!
I wish I had listened to my dad when he told me I had to go back to the YMCA for swim lessons because it might save my life one day.
My skin is burned like Jeff when he covers himself in that black flame. I try to hold my breath for as long as I can but I am not in good shape. The time I spend in this world is not in the gym. I am skinny because I forget to eat, not because I have ever run a lap outside of the ones they forced me to do kicking and screaming in gym class.
When the lack of air forces that black liquid down my throat I am sure it is going to be horrible. Instead I feel a sort of euphoria like I have entered back into the womb and the whole world is just my mom's belly encasing me in her protective shell.
Then the tree vomits me up and I understand why babies cry when they get out.
Jeff comes out of the surrounding wood and into the clearing looking tired but whole. He doesn't say anything when he looks at me like telling one of his jokes might call down lightning. He just strips down to his birthday suit, strips me down to mine, and then covers me in the clothes off his back.
When he sits his naked butt in dirty black water it runs against his skin and stays clear as it runs off behind him.
I have become so immersed in watching Jeff it suddenly dawns on me that there was no black liquid covering this clearing before. The black liquid was inside that enormous tree.
Inside Jeff's suit it feels like I am back in the womb and everything that was stripped off me is returned. Even the bum knee I got when I let my friends convince me to play football with them in elementary school feels healed.
After much too long to just stay laying there Jeff finally gets up and looks around. The strangest part about whatever I just watched happen was the lack of any dramatic explosions, screams, or mutant attacks.
If before, the forest was a predator trying to consume us, after whatever happened between that tree and I when I was inside its stomach made everything that was anywhere near us suddenly view us as the predator.
Jeff holds out his hand to me.
“Jeremy, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
I finally get the reference.
END OF CHAPTER 6
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Genesis such an intriguing blend of cosmic horror, science fiction, and dark humor. The contrast between Jeremy’s analytical mindset and Jeff’s chaotic personality keeps the story engaging, while the corrupted World Tree and Putrid Delta create a vivid, unsettling setting that leaves you wanting to learn more about the larger universe behind it. I am new here and curious. Are you turning this into a book?
Love this. The micro-histories dropped along the way give the characters depth. Pranks and shared struggles are good anchors.