Not Fade Away
Liberty turned her face into the warm wind blowing through the river valley, letting the damp air take her thick brown hair in a sheet behind her. She closed her eyes and smiled. To Liberty, the wind acted as a portent to the winter finally coming to an end. A handful of months was like a blink of the optic to Cybertronians like her. But, as she liked to tell herself, she was hardly an Autobot any longer. Adopted with her Pretender shell was a human way of thinking. She shivered in the cold of the past winter. She awoke with a start at the memories that followed her from the north, up the river that she followed downstream. The last several months felt like an eternity for her. She wanted nothing more than to start over, but that chance had yet to reveal itself.
The river was dotted with settlements, some along the water’s edge, others within a half day’s walk. Rare was it that she saw a single human. Those she did see stayed hidden behind locked doors, as if wood and glass would keep the truth of what the world was now like from them. As if mere wood and glass could keep out those like Liberty wished that she was not. For an entire winter, Liberty walked and could not find a place to fit in. She would stop for a week or two in some towns, but was greeted with silence from any of the humans that lived there. She had tried once to initiate a conversation with one, but ended up looking down two barrels of a primitive ballistic rifle. Liberty doubted that it could have harmed her in any way, but the human instincts she favored now told her to flee from it.
She felt lost, despite what she continuously tried to tell herself. She told herself that she just needed to find some people that were not constantly afraid of outsiders and then everything would be better. Then, she would finally belong here. She would finally feel like a human and would not need to have to constantly remind herself of it. But every step that she took away from where she had been and what she had done, she felt reality slipping through her grasp. Instead of frightened town folk, Liberty began to wonder if it was not something else. She started to wonder if perhaps the other humans were able to see what she truly was inside. She shuddered at the thought.
As the breeze subsided for a moment, Liberty opened her eyes again. She looked up at the trees, which were still bare of the leaves that she remembered seeing when she first arrived on Earth. Instead, the branches were covered with the remnants of a heavy snowfall from the day before. Already that snow was beginning to melt, something that made Liberty feel quite happy. Snow was beautiful at one point, but now she was getting a little tired of it. She wanted warmth again. Somehow she knew that with that change would come a change in her fortune. She would finally belong.
Liberty’s eyes darted away from the water toward the scraping of rocks along the steep hills that lined the river. She walked slowly through the trees, peering as best she could for what could have made the noise. It was a sound that an ordinary human could not possibly have heard, but Liberty ignored the notion, as she ignored any thought that eventually led to remembering what she really was inside. After several minutes, she paused and studied a cave opening not far away. It was too dark to see very deep into it, but even still a faint movement could be seen. It was too large to be one of the small creatures that yet lived hidden in the forests. Almost certainly it was a human within the cave. Liberty looked up at the light fading from the sky. The days were longer than they had been earlier in the winter, but dusk was still fast approaching. Humans sought shelter in the dark. The cave would suit that purpose as well as her curiosity as to who would sit in the dark on such a beautiful day.
Stepping up to the cave entrance, Liberty said, “Hello, is somebody in here?”
A soft laugh answered. “I think you already know the answer to that question or you certainly wouldn’t have asked.”
It was the voice a young female, one that Liberty thought sounded strangely confident and unafraid. She had not heard such a tone since leaving Dr. Archeville’s resistance group. It was a kind of confidence that usually meant that there was a weapon nearby.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” the young women called from the cave. “I promise I won’t bite.”
Liberty emitted a nervous laugh, something she always thought conveyed an innocence she never could feel in reality. “Do you mind if I come in? It’s been a while since I’ve been able to spend a night with a roof over my head.”
“Of course,” the young woman said, motioning into the cave.
Liberty walked in and took a seat on the hard, cold rock floor of the cave and studied the woman sitting across from her. She seemed to be in her late twenties from what she had been able to gather of her study of humans before her last mission. Her hair was a sandy blond shade and tussled in a way that almost looked purposeful. Her eyes were a striking blue color and almost seemed to shine in the dim light that funneled into the cave. Liberty looked closer at her eyes. The woman’s expression was odd somehow, as if she were staring off at something in the distance. Liberty warily looked over her shoulder before turning back to the young woman. Liberty blinked at the small smile on her face.
“I’m blind,” she said matter-of-factly. “I have been since I was a kid.” She turned her head to the left. “There’s some wood over there, if you want to start a fire. I was going to wait until a little later, when it was a bit cooler, but now that I have company . . . ” She smiled warmly again. Liberty could not help but return it.
“My name is Libby,” Liberty offered, trying out for the first time the new name that she had decided to use for her new start.
“It’s nice to meet you,” the young woman said. “I’m Anne. With an ‘e’.” She paused for a moment before thoughtfully adding, “Names are a funny thing. You’ve got people with names that sound the same, but are spelled differently. Anne with an ‘e’ and Ann without. Sarah with an ‘h’ and without. John and Jon.”
Liberty was suddenly glad that Anne could not see. At hearing the name “John,” she started as terrible memories tumbled through her. She shook her head, trying to make the images of J.D. vaporizing in front of her and of Konnie and Dirk’s distressed, angry looks. Of Lincoln, dying before her eyes.
Fighting back the painful memories, she rose and crossed over to the pile of small twigs laying against the cave wall. They were dry and brittle to the touch, a stark contrast to the air in the cave. She turned and set them in a circle of stones that lay near the mouth of the cave. She glanced around for something to start a fire and was interrupted by Anne.
“There’s some flint to the right of the fire pit,” she said.
Liberty grasped the flint and created a spark over the dry wood. In the light of the small fire, she watched as Anne crossed to the entrance and pulled a sheet of netting down over the entrance. Without so much as stumbling, she tossed a blanket on the rocky surface for herself and Liberty and sat down. She sighed.
“I don’t build a fire every night. You never know who is going to be walking around out there. It’s necessary sometimes though. It keeps the cold from getting to you.”
“Why did you invite me in, if you are wary of strangers?” Liberty motioned back to the net and grimaced when she realized Anne could not see the gesture.
“You seem different somehow,” she said, as if that explained it.
Liberty waited to see if Anne would say more and looked into the fire. Of course, Liberty knew she was different. She looked like a human. No, she corrected stubbornly, I am a human. But she was still something more, which was something that she could never bring herself to forget, no matter how hard she tried. She liked being around other people though, even the ones that simply hid in their houses. It made her feel like a human as well, and not an Autobot. Anything but that, she thought miserably.
Shaking her head, Liberty finally said, “Different how?”
“I don’t know yet,” Anne replied. “Did you want something to eat? I’m afraid that I don’t have much and certainly nothing fresh. I might be able to hear and smell the rabbits out there, but without being able to see them, the catch-of-the-day remains at large.”
“That would be nice, thank you,” Liberty said.
“Hope you like Spam,” the blond-haired women said with a smile as she rose and walked confidently to the back of the cave and was swallowed by blackness. “It might taste like crap, but at least it has a shelf-life of infinity.”
After several seconds, she returned with a can in one hand and plate in the other. She deposited the contents onto the plate with a splat and tore it into two pieces before setting the plate between them by the fire.
“Help yourself,” she said, tearing off a chunk for herself.
Liberty leaned forward and studied the substance for a moment. It smelled like food, but it was unlike anything she had seen since she arrived on Earth.
Cautiously trying a piece of the (Meat? she questioned internally) substance, Liberty looked up at Anne again, who was serenely looking over Liberty’s shoulder.
“How is that you can get around so well by yourself?” she asked. “Aren’t you ever scared?”
Anne shrugged. “Sometimes, I suppose. But not a soul has been by here in some time. Those that do come by are usually just passing by on the river. I can always hear them coming long before they can see me. As for getting around, I’ve been blind for more than twenty years. You can’t rely on others for everything, so I just started fending for myself. It’s actually quite easy. I know where everything is in the cave. I know how many paces it is to the river when I need to bathe or get some water. It’s just a matter of learning and remembering and keeping at it. It’s something that I think all of us have been needing to do lately, given the circumstances.”
“Have you been down here since they came?” Liberty asked, almost dreading the answer. It was her brethren that did this. No, she thought again, they weren’t humans; it was the Autobots.’
“Oh no,” Anne replied. “I’ve been here for a little over a year. When I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to help the rest of the people in my hometown. They just wanted to fade back into the gloom and pretend that nothing odd or dangerous was happening. I’m not one to fade away. I almost did that when I lost my sight.
“I was seven when it happened. I thought it was unfair that some disease could take my eyesight and not someone else’s. I wondered what I had done. I suppose it didn’t help that my family thought it was unfair too and just let me get away with everything. God, was I a spoiled brat.” She frowned at some memory before continuing.
“For three years it was like that until my grandmother had had enough of it. She pulled me aside and told me it was time to quit sitting in the darkness that I had created to go with my blindness and take charge. She told me that I was the only one who could do it.” She paused. “I called her the nastiest word I could think of and she slapped me so hard I saw stars. We didn’t say another word to each other. She died two weeks later.”
Anne sighed. “At the funeral, all of these people came up to the front of the church and started telling these stories about her. About all the people she helped during the war, how she never gave up on anything ever. It hit me about as hard as she did and I swear to this day that I saw stars again. I got up, shook off my mom trying to help me, went up to the front of the church and told them that she was the one who taught me that I have to live again. Then, as they say, there was no looking back.”
Anne stopped and continued looking over Liberty’s shoulder. Liberty looked down at the fire, spitting sparks into the air and driving away the darkness that infiltrated from the back of the cave and from the forest outside. She could hear crickets and birds singing their songs. She could hear the rabbits that continued to elude Anne hopping as stealthfully as they could through the snow and the dead leaves that it covered. All of those creatures and the woman before her belonged to the world. They seemed in sync with each other, even through all the chaos the Autobots wrought. She had sensed it too, with Dr. Archeville’s group. That feeling of oneness, of belonging. Liberty felt like an outsider.
“Oh, I wish it wasn’t so, Lib,” she whispered sadly before she could stop herself.
Anne looked at her thoughtfully, as if her sightless eyes could suddenly see right into her soul. Liberty fought back the urge to shift uncomfortably under the gaze, knowing that Anne would know that she had.
“You know a John, don’t you?” Anne asked.
Liberty looked at her sharply. “Yes,” she said. “Two of them actually.” She left out the fact that she had killed one of them and had stolen the other’s best friend in the process.
“It’s hard to lose someone close to you, especially in times like this. But you can’t fade away, Libby. You can’t let them win.”
“How do you know I’ve lost someone?” she asked, bitterness tainted her voice.
“Because you’re here,” she said simply, “and not there. I don’t know what has happened to you since this all started. I’m sure it’s horrible based on how sad you sounded when you said that. But I feel the same thing in you what I felt when I was ten. All alone, in darkness.”
Liberty stood suddenly. “I’m not the one sitting in a cave by myself,” she said angrily.
Anne looked up at her, her face still placid. “And I’m not the running away blindly. You can see the world around us. You know what is out there. I might be able to make my way around a cave, but in a world that changed so suddenly? No, I’m biding my time, Libby. There will come a day when I will walk out of this cave and reenter the world, but that time has not come yet. I don’t know what I’m waiting for and how I will know when it’s time. I just do. I can barely remember the color green, but I know my time on this world isn’t over yet. My grandmother told me to not fade away and I will not. I will only wait until it’s time.”
Anne stood and continued to consider Liberty with her sharp, blue eyes. “You are the one that is fading away. You’re lost, running. You can’t find your way. I’m sorry that I cannot be of any true help to you except to say that you can never give up.”
Anne took a deep breath and brushed her hands down the front of her shirt. She smiled.
“Will you stay a while longer?” she asked.
Liberty’s mind reeled. She wanted to be angry. A part of her, a part she hated, wanted to reach out and snap Anne’s neck where she stood for saying what she had. But Liberty knew that she was angry not because Anne had told lies or misjudged her, but because it was true. She was running blindly away. She left behind death and chaos before she fled downriver. The same death and chaos that Autobots brought with them no matter would world they trod on. She turned toward the entrance to the cave and reached for the netting covering it. She stopped.
“I should go,” Liberty said. “I have a lot to think about.”
“I understand, but can I ask you one question.”
“Sure,” Liberty sighed tiredly.
“What are you?”
Liberty turned and gaped at the woman before her. How can she know? she wanted to scream. “What?” Liberty asked incredulously.
“You’re not human, I know that,” Anne said, almost cautiously. “You smell of people, but none of it belongs to you. And your voice. It’s . . . I don’t know. It’s odd. I’m not sure that anybody else would hear it though, it’s so indistinct.”
“I’m a human being,” Liberty said loudly, as if the volume of her voice would convince herself as well. “Just like you.”
Anne nodded. “Maybe it’s just your accent. I hope you find your way, Libby.” She smiled warmly, she same genuine smile that had greeted Liberty when she first poked her head into the cave. “You know where to find me, if you’re ever in the neighborhood again. You are always welcome. My cave door is always open, in a manner of speaking.”
Liberty nodded and, throwing open the netting over the door, walked out into the night. She hung her head sadly, thinking again of those she left behind upriver. She wondered if they were all still alive and where they had moved to. She wondered if she would ever see them again and what their reaction would be if that day came. Liberty shook her head. You know what the reaction would be, Lib, and you’d deserve it. She looked up the stars above her. But I will make up for it. I’m a human now and I’ll fight for the humans, not simply fit in. Being a part of a community isn’t enough. Helping that community win just might be.
Liberty started walking back toward the river. She found her path, but she did not know where it would lead. She smiled, thinking fondly back to her old life and how much she had always loved a challenge. She stopped, listening to a stealthy patter among the leaves.
“Thank you, Anne,” she said.
* * *
Anne opened her eyes and was greeted by the same darkness that followed her since she was seven. She could still hear the crackle of the fire before her and the sound of crickets beyond the netting over the cave’s entrance. She had drifted off to sleep, but she had not slept long; it seemed that she never did anymore. She sat up and stretched, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. She breathed in the soothing smell of the fire, remembering when she was just a little girl and how she would fall asleep in front of her mother’s fireplace with a book at her side. She smiled at the memory.
Then she frowned. Smelling the air around her a second time, she rose to her feet and paced to the left side of the cave she temporarily called her home. She stretched her hands out and drew them back quickly in surprise was they brushed against something. Reaching out again, she grasped the object and slid her hands across its surface. Her smile returned.
“You’re welcome, Libby,” she whispered. She pulled the skinned and cleaned rabbit from the rope it was tied to and brought it over to the fire. “Perhaps we’ll see each other again.
“When it’s time.”
The end.
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