The Eye of Zoltar

A brush with death

I stared in the direction in which Ralph and Wilson were staring, but could see nothing. The Empty Quarter was living up to the ‘empty’ part of its name surprisingly well.

‘I can’t see anything,’ I whispered.

‘Moribundus carnivorum,’ said Wilson in a low voice, ‘moving in from the north-west.’

‘Mori … what?’ I whispered back.

‘Moribundus carnivorum. A Lifesucker. It is nourished not by the energy and proteins, fats and starches within life forms, but the very essence of life itself.’

I looked again. There was nothing visible in the direction Wilson was pointing except a rabbit, nibbling the grass about thirty feet away, and steadfastly ignoring us.

‘You mean the rabbit?’

‘The rabbit? No, of course not the rabbit. I mean behind the rabbit.’

‘I can’t see anything behind the rabbit. Except …’

My voice trailed off as I saw the Lifesucker. Or at least, I didn’t actually see it, but the effect it had on the grass as it slowly crept up on the rabbit. Where all around us the grass was bright and green and lush, there was a trail of brown and withered grass advancing slowly towards the rabbit like a gravy stain on a tablecloth. The brown stain of death was no more than six inches wide, and as the rabbit stopped nibbling and looked around cautiously, the encroaching area of dead grass stopped and waited.

‘I see it now,’ I whispered, ‘it’s stalking the rabbit.’

‘It usually takes bigger prey than that,’ Wilson whispered back. ‘Must be hungry – it will take one of us if it picks up on our scent.’

‘We can outrun it, surely?’

‘Outrun death?’ said Wilson, eyebrows raised. ‘I think not.’

I turned my attention back to the approaching patch of dead grass behind the rabbit. When the Lifesucker was about a foot away from the unwitting creature, it pounced. The rabbit didn’t know what was happening at first. It seemed shocked and made to run, but then faltered, convulsed for a moment, tipped on its side and twitched a few times before lying still.

‘Sh-ook,’ said Ralph, who, like us, was staring intently at the now-dead rabbit. The Lifesucker didn’t only steal life, though, it seemed to strip away many of life’s associated functions: warmth, moisture and beauty. In less than a minute the rabbit had aged and withered until it was nothing more than patchy fur stretched tautly across a dry skeleton.

‘I’ve not seen anything like—’

‘Shh!’ said Wilson. ‘It’s strongest when freshly nourished. It will be hunting for more prey – I’ve seen one take an entire herd of sheep before finally collapsing into a gorged stupor. If you can push anything charismatic and life-confirming to the back of your mind and fill your head with thoughts of utter banality, now’s the time to it.’

‘How do I do that?’

‘I usually start with daytime TV, and then work my way down through celebrity biographies to international road aggregate trade agreements.’

Despite Wilson’s advice, it’s hard to think of boring thoughts when requested, especially when there is death lurking nearby, so I instead attempted to relax, and I could see Wilson and Ralph do the same. The area of dead grass moved at a slow walking pace in our direction, then stopped a few feet from Ralph. The Australopithecine sensed the danger, remained utterly still and stared absently into the middle distance, his mind apparently blank. The dead patch of grass remained in one place for what seemed like an age, then moved on and past Wilson towards me in a slow, purposeful manner. I’d faced down death a couple of times, but never like this.

I stayed as still as I dared until the Lifesucker was barely a yard from me, and that’s when Wilson stamped his feet.

‘Heigh-ho!’ he yelled in a forced tone tinged with fear. ‘Boy, am I feeling terrific today. So full of life. So much to do, so much to see! Everything in the world is there to witness, and I am the one to breathe in its many varied splendours!’

For a moment, it seemed to work. The dead patch of grass stopped, paused for a moment, but then carried on in my direction.

‘Ook, ook!’ said Ralph as he joined Wilson and danced an odd dance while making a strange trilling noise that, while not exactly musical, might become so given a few hundred millennia.

I hurried to get away, stumbled on a rock and fell heavily to the ground.

‘Ha, hoo!’ yelled Wilson as he moved closer to try to draw the Lifesucker away from me. Ralph joined him, but it wasn’t working. Death was after me, probably because I was the youngest and had more of life left in me. A small frog died instantaneously as the patch of dead grass moved over it, and I found myself attempting to flee in an undignified rearward floundering movement while still lying on my back. I panicked, and just as Wilson was about to jump forward and put himself between the Lifesucker and me, a bellow rent the air.

‘HOLD!’

I stopped. Wilson and Ralph stopped. Death, ever the opportunist, stopped as well – perhaps in case a tastier snack might suddenly have come within easier reach.

The newcomer was standing less than a dozen paces away. He wore walking breeches, stout boots, a checked shirt rolled up to the elbows, and carried a large rucksack. He had an agreeably boyish face, even though I guessed he was in his thirties, and his thick brown hair was tied up inside a red bandana, and he regarded me through the most piercing blue eyes I think I had ever seen. They didn’t so much look at you as look into you.

He was weighing a stone up and down in his hand, presumably to ensure accuracy when it was thrown. I wondered whether you could kill death with a stone, until I realised it wasn’t for death. It was for me. He swung his arm around, there was a sudden blaze of light and everything went black.