SANDBOX

AFTERMATH

1

DAY

Weeks had passed since the night the Event had taken over the town of Elizabeth. Recurring dreams brought with them consistent reminders of lost friends, taken for reasons unknown. His body lay there, recovering from injuries sustained during the Event, in a medically induced coma. When Darby regained consciousness, it was already spring.

***

The light in the room was dim, the temperature cool, and Darby was comfortably warm under the hospital sheets. Bright light didn't seem like something he was ready to deal with, not just yet anyway. He wanted to sit up, get out of bed and move around, but his arms and legs disagreed and remained still. There was a sensation of needing to blow his nose and an itch on his right arm that wouldn't go away. If only he could move, he could check his nose and scratch that itch, he thought.

Hey, Sheriff, Stan whispered from beyond the grave, You look just like I feel.

Darby wanted to laugh, fog shrouding his mind stunted him emotionally—besides the pain he felt in his abdomen whenever he twitched. He wanted to speak to Stan, but his throat felt so dry he was scared it would crack and bleed if he so much as opened his mouth.

It's okay, boss, Burke this time, Keep your strength. You're going to need it.

It wasn't just their voices, Darby thought. He could see them standing in the room with him, mostly in shadow but visible enough to determine who was who. Burke stood next to Stan, Jules next to him, and someone else behind them he couldn't make out. Darby wanted to call out to them, tell them to come forward, and to ask who that was in the chair, but again he couldn't speak. He chose instead to look up at them, admiringly, and wait for them to say what it was they had all come here to say.

Their mouths did not move, their voices floated through the air as though they were on different wavelengths—this was the best, and only, way Darby could describe it. It didn't seem weird to Darby, his dead friends standing in front of him, talking to him. Gotta be the drugs, he thought.

You survived the Event, Sheriff, Jules said with a smile on her face. You did what you could to save us, but in the end you were the only one left. Jules took a step toward the bed, not enough for Darby to see any more clearly. You have to leave, she warned.

But, it's all over, Darby thought. They begged him to get up out of bed and to leave, go far from here, it didn't matter where. It was Burke who posed the question Darby wanted to ask, Why should you leave?

The door opened before Burke could answer, and a nurse walked in with a tray of food.

2

EVENING

Darby woke suddenly, the dream he had was frighteningly vivid. He was wet with sweat and threw the sheets off to cool down. He looked around the room, no dead friends there to keep him company. The TV played the news, but the volume had been turned all the way down. Wildland fire crews fought vehemently to gain control of a fire that was ravaging whatever forest they were showing, the blurb at the bottom of the screen kept track of the death toll—ten separate remains found so far.

The news reporter spoke to a firefighter, most likely a captain or chief Darby thought. The fire in the background put a warm orange glow over everything in the hospital room.

Colorado had its fair share of forest fires, some caused by lightning strikes, others caused by human error or intent. Darby wondered which this was.

A nurse entered, taking his attention away from the television set, and handed him a tray.