Halted Progress

Written on October 16th, 2022 by Jacob Mayes

NULC Submission 2022

It is the sixth time that Liam had rode that long, winding mountain path in the past three months. Despite how narrow the path is, a near constant stream of traffic had established itself, made up mainly of couriers, laborers, chemists, and other deliverymen like himself. As he sidesteps the other wagons, horses, and people making their way up and down the path, Liam’s wagonful of the picks and shovels his father made just a few days prior shifted and softly clanked against one another at the bottom of the wagon. Looking back from the seat of his family horse, he sees the extra cargo his family had sent him to the construction site with, a basket of freshly baked bread in a woven basket and a not so neatly stacked pile of clean linen rags. His expression sours when he sees the rags, as it reminds him of what is to greet him at the end of that road.
 

During the mid to late 1800s, the coast-connecting transcontinental railroad was in construction across the United States. Throughout this period, many challenges faced the Central Pacific Railroad Company, who built their tracks starting in Sacramento heading East towards the Sierra Nevada, and the Union Pacific Railroad Company, who would be building from near the border of Iowa and Nebraska on the Missouri River. These challenges were most often environmental and logistical, regarding the navigation of building a railroad through harsh, mountainous regions and the dangerous work involved. The companies had solutions for these problems, though often, the solutions sacrificed the well-being of those laborers constructing the railroad. But not all problems had solutions so easy they could simply ignore the needs of their laborers to solve.
 

As the Central Pacific Company toiled away at the mighty Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, sending Chinese and Irish migrants into holes armed with nitroglycerine to blast a path through the mountain, new problems began to arise. The mixing shacks chemists constructed the nitroglycerine would spontaneously combust for seemingly no reason, food rations spoiled in mere hours of arriving, no amount of time healed the laborers of their work-related injuries, and even stranger were the disappearances at random times of day. At the same time, The Union Pacific Railroad Company had covered more than twice the ground of the Central Pacific, driving the competitive spirit between the two. This increased pressure made the Central Pacific desperate for any sort of solution. They hired the most expensive, safe chemists and most experienced laborers, but for months the progress was slowed to a shaky crawl. As the summer crawled on, and winter threatened to stop progress altogether, nearly everyone involved came to the same conclusion that the Central Pacific was cursed.
 

Distant clanging rings through the mountain pass, signaling the young blacksmith’s son that he is nearing his destination. The path widens up to a flat area in front of an imposing slate-gray wall of stone. At the base of this obstacle lays the tracks of the Central Pacific, stopped completely by this impossibly obstinate barrier. All around the worksite are small tents and temporary shelters, made mostly with sticks from the surrounding woods and whatever scraps of fabric those poor souls could find to block out that bone-chilling breeze. Liam’s nose curls and he shakes his head in disgust as the foul stench of infection and death reaches his nostrils.

 

Liam makes his way to where he knows the stables are, which is tantamount to a small grouping of horses and wagons, tucked away from the busybodies running around with pickaxes and shovels. A man in a black coat and cap sits on a log near the horse, his sun-stained skin lightly coated in perspiration. Liam recognizes his coal-black eyes and thin brown mustache; this is the foreman. Liam and the man speak for a moment about the weather and the current state of the railroad as the foreman inspects the delivery. The man bemoans that wall of stone and informs Liam they’ve been progressing mere inches every day. Even using nitroglycerine and the strongest men they could find were proving completely useless. This news is not entirely unwelcomed to the blacksmith’s son, as his family had been making more than enough money to live from with all the smithing contracts, yet Liam meets the news with a frown. He knows that the longer they worked at this wall, the more likely people would get injured while trying to break through.
 

He quietly dismisses himself and sets about making his second delivery of bread and rags to the wounded and sick. His stomach cannot take the sights of open, infected wounds so all he focuses on are the cracked and filthy fingers of the wounded. For what feels like an eternity of holding his breath to avoid the stench, the young man gives small loaves of bread and even more linens to every single pair of reaching hands. Once the final loaf is passed and the last of the linens used to cover wounds, Liam lets out a sigh of relief and turned to head back to his horse before nearly tripping over another of the injured. Barely avoiding stepping on the exposed, bruised, and bandage covered body of a gaunt man on the ground, Liam lets out a yelp of surprise and jumps back.
 

“Are you the one who brought bread?” The laborer questions, his voice raspy and coarse. Outstretched are his clawing, ravenous fingers that twitch and flex with anticipation for a sweet morsel of bread.
 

Liam begins to shake his head instinctively to avoid any sort of awkwardness with the man but quickly sees that the injured has no way to notice his signal, as his eyes are perfect white pearls. Unable to see, the man asks again, and Liam quietly states he did bring the bread, but that he does not have any more. The claws slowly retract from Liam and the injured man lets out a loud, disappointed sigh, shaking his own head before tossing a tin mug at Liam’s feet. “If you brought none for me, then would you mind grabbing water for a blind old man?” His finger points down away from the construction site and towards a small stream at the base of the small hill they are standing on.
 

The blacksmith’s son leans down and grabs ahold of the tin cup, examining its dull sheen before agreeing, as he did feel bad for not having enough bread for the man. Not wanting to waste any time, Liam quickly tells the man he would be just a moment and begins walking down from the crowded worksite.
 

Liam’s gaze is downturned as walks the downward slope towards the stream, focused on his foot placement on the uneven, sliding earth. The young man becomes lost in his focus for much longer than he had anticipated. He looks up and finds himself the same distance from the creek that he had been when he took his first step down the hill. Confused, he begins to focus on his destination as he walks forward, but no matter how many steps he takes, the earth itself seems to be keeping him the same distance from the stream. A creeping shiver claws its way up his spine as he takes more information in. The sparse forest that was separated from the construction site now surrounds the area around the clearing and stream. Mountains that were once distant have closed the distance, now surrounding the boy and looming over him with an ominous air. There is nowhere else to look other than behind, and what greets him is an impenetrable slate-gray wall mere inches from his turned face.
 

In a bewildered and frightened state, Liam scrambles down the hill, unable to process the impossible events that are happening to him. Before a moment goes by, the young Bell finds himself tumbling down the hill for an instant and sprawls across the wet dirt of the creek the next. By his side lays the tin mug, and without anything else to grab on to, he graspes its handle tightly. He slowly gets to his feet and brushes himself off, doing his best to regain composure. Slowly, he begins to take in the area once again. The looming mountains and their cruel gray faces stare down at him in contempt, the numberless trees sway with an unnatural breeze, and near inches behind him remains the slate wall, locking him in this unknowable place.

 

With nowhere else to look but towards the creek, Liam grips the mug tightly and peers into the cool running water. Just under the surface of the stream lies the very same laborer who asked him to retrieve his water, but he was changed. His skin resembles the slate gray wall blocking the railroad, his eyes now pearly white river stones, and his clothes decaying bark. He takes one step closer and feels the wind begin to rush through the valley. It comes in a strange rhythmic back and forth motion, as if the world itself is panting in anticipation. Another step and from the corners of his eyes he sees the mountains lean down towards him with a scrutinizing gaze. His heart pumps faster than any time before. Then, the stone man’s head turns slowly towards Liam, prompting the boy to squeeze his eyes shut and flee directly into the slate gray wall behind him. Whimpering and frightened as he knows nothing other than that what he is experiencing goes against everything he has ever known, Liam, leans against that cold gray stone and forces himself to open his eyes to the world once again.
 

Beneath the pristine waters of the creek lies the man from the railroad, just as he was when the two first met. Milky white eyes peer up at nothing and his frail, broken body gently floats about the creek bed, and his impossibly filthy bandages sway gently in the current of the stream. From his bandages, putrid black blood darkens the waters below and fill the air with a scent not unlike that of the tents of the injured. Liam grips the mug tight and shakily, leaning forward over the man to take a closer look.
 

In that very moment, the man id replaced with the stone creature from before and his hand shoots out from the creek at Liam. The strike is inhumanly fast, leaving no time for Liam to react before he is dragged fully into the creek by his arm. Liam wildly beats at the water to no avail, as his face is nearly fully submerged, and the strong grip of the creature keeps his arm close to the bottom. Breathing becomes incredibly difficult for the young man as he can barely keep his head above water and the stones slip beneath his feet, preventing him from gaining purchase.
 

Suddenly, by luck alone the boy’s boot-covered foot finds purchase against the torso of the filthy stone thing, pushing off to wrench his hand out of its grip. Liam takes this chance to stand up before trying to sprint out of the creek, but his captor already has another stranglehold on the blacksmith’s son’s boot-covered foot. In a complete panic, the young man takes his mug and strikes down at the cold, unfeeling face repeatedly. He slams the mug repeatedly, and with a few solid impacts against the stone face, cracks begin to form.
 

The creature pays no mind to the young man, emotionlessly taking Liam’s foot and placing it above its mouth. Without warning, the creature’s mouth unhinges itself and opens so wide Liam’s entire leg falls through as if there is nothing but open air under the creature. Upon dropping into the creek again, Liam loses his handle on the mug and begins clawing at the stones in the river, trying to find it once again. All that comes to his hands are stones from the riverbed that are so slick and smooth they continue to escape his grasp, as if the earth itself is taunting him as he struggles against this monster. And as his hands fail to find a solid source of support, the water rushes over his head, stealing whatever chance at breathing he believed he had.
 

Teeth like jagged obsidian grind at the soft flesh of his thigh and he feels the creature’s mouth get even wider, threatening to encompass his outstretched leg even as he runs out of air in his lungs. The pain is getting to the young boy and he can feel the world itself salivating, ecstatic to consume him. His lungs burn for air and his leg bounces ineffectually against the slick stones of the riverbed. No mug nor weapon of any sort can be found by him, and his strength is beginning to fade forever. But before he fades too far, a far off boom sounds off, loud enough that Liam hears it even as he was submerged and the whole world stops everything for just a moment.
 

A piercing scream shatters the silence under the water, coming from that horrible creature’s maw. It convulses and violently shakes as Liam feels something force his foot out of the creature with explosive force, as if his leg had encountered an elevator floor moving upwards at incredible speed. The force of the explosion shoots Liam onto the shore of the creek, eliciting a pained groan and a confused yet relieved look from the boy.
 

Looking up, Liam’s eyes widen and tears threaten to break through as he sees a small hill leading up to a busy construction site suddenly alive with cheers and shouts of joy. Looking to his side, the tin mug lays on its side with a clear dent near the base of the cup. All around, Liam finds himself back where he was not minutes before going to grab that injured man his water.
 

In a strange mix of joy and panic, the boy sprints back up to the construction site, where the workers were giddy with relief. A renewed energy had suddenly infected those working, and the injured began emerging from their sick tents, nearly all looking as healthy as they were before they were injured. This is of little consequence to young Liam Bell, who runs straight to where he last saw that horrible creature of a man. When he arrives to where he last saw the worker, no sign of the man remained. No disruption of dirt or grass gives any clue a man ever lied there. Unable to comprehend what was seen, Liam wordlessly runs back to his horse and rides home without stopping once.
 

Upon arriving back at his home, Liam barely speaks or eats his dinner. No rest comes for Liam either, as every time he closes his eyes, he feels those obsidian teeth grinding away at his thigh, sees those perfect white stones set into that rocky face, and feels the whole of the world hunger for his consumption. The boy even sneaks a kitchen knife into his bed, just in case that thing would come for him in the night. Like a caged animal, Liam watches every corner of the room with his bloodshot eyes and softly pants in anticipation of what he believes he knew was to come.
 

Morning comes without incident, and before his parents could awaken, the young man concludes he has to go back, to see if that thing was still there so he could tell someone. Detaching the horse from the stables and the wagon, he leaves in a hurry, even more disheveled than when he went to bed the night prior. His exhaustion is felt in every moment as he rides, barely able to keep his eyes open save for the fear of what awaits him in the darkness behind his own eyelids.
 

The path is even more crowded than before, but Liam no longer steps to the side or slows down for these people, he needs to get there and fast to prevent any more people from getting hurt. Liam rides for mere hours before reaching the camp. All of the tents and sickbeds were removed, the workforce had more than doubled as it seems as though nearly all who had been injured have been healed. Liam hears the foreman from yesterday telling another workmen it was like a miracle had occurred.
 

Frantically searching, Liam goes around asking workers if they have seen the man from yesterday, but everybody tells him no blind men have been on site for the past month or so. While asking around, he finds out what happened that caused all the celebration. Yesterday, the workmen got lucky with a well-placed blast of nitroglycerine, and it blew open a path to a cave more than big enough to allow for the train tracks to pass through. Without asking, Liam grabs a pick he finds on the floor and sneaks into the cave. He feels drawn to it, his hand gravitating to the knife on his belt as he closes in on the cavern.
 

Just two steps in, he hears a small clattering sound in a dark corner. Liam grabs ahold of his knife and withdraws it from his belt, holding it as tightly as he held his mug the day before. Again, he hears the clattering sound, and from out the darkness two perfectly smooth, pearl-white stones roll towards him.