Planet Purgatory Read Online Free Page B

Scavenger blinked and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
    “You died. That’s why you’re here.”
    “Oh, David, don’t start with that!” said my dad, angrily.
    “No, I want to hear what he has to say,” the Scavenger replied.
    This would be the first time I’d told anyone other than my parents what I was about to say. My palms were sweating, and I did my best to hide my excitement by taking an extended drag of my cigarette.
    “This isn’t a planet,” I explained through a thick plume of smoke. “Or at least, not as we’ve been led to believe. This is a destination. For people after they die.”
    “What, you mean like Hell?”
    “No. Not Hell. More like … Purgatory.”
    It felt strange speaking those words, and I took a deep breath, wiping my hands on my trousers.
    “Where did you get this from?” asked the Scavenger, still wearing that mask of derision.
    “It’s the accident,” my dad replied. “He didn’t have these thoughts before.”
    “I did too! I just kept them quiet, that’s all. But the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced we’re inhabiting an afterlife.”
    This prompted the Scavenger to clap his hands together and laugh. “Sounds like you got too much time on your hands, my friend.”
    “Think about it. This is supposed to be a space colony. But where’s the proof? I’ve seen no rockets. No spaceships. Yet there are new people all the time. Where are they coming from?”
    “That’s because the landing base is further south,” answered the Scavenger.
    “Is it? How do you know that? Have you seen it?”
    The Scavenger leaned over to pick at something on the side of his boot.
    “And what about the voyage here? Thirty years in space, and no one can remember a single detail. Why is that?”
    “It’s the suspended animation,” answered the Scavenger. “You know that. It fogs your brain.”
    “But what about the time before that? On Earth. I don’t remember anything about deciding to be a space colonist. There would have to have been training, and interviews, and forms to fill out. You’d think some of that would stay in here,” I said, tapping my temple. “Hell, I don’t remember there being a habitable planet besides Earth. Things like that tend to get on the news.”
    As I spoke, the zombies became agitated, rocking back and forth with renewed urgency.
    “When’s Daddy coming?” one said. “The mall’s closing.”
    Her voice was clear, healthy, not at all like the dried-out husk that was her body. It was shocking, and I looked to the Scavenger for an explanation.
    “Just reliving an old memory,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand.
    “He said he’d be here a half hour ago. I’m going to have to walk …”
    While the one zombie spoke, the other’s teeth chattered. Violently.
    “Are you sure they’re okay?” I asked.
    “Yeah, that’s what they do,” said the Scavenger, irritably. “Now back to this whole not-a-planet thing. What gave you the idea that this is Hell?”
    “I told you, it’s not Hell. It’s certainly not Heaven. But it’s not Hell. At least not for us.”
    “And what makes you say that?”
    “Well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if this was Hell. Human interaction, as much as I go out of my way to avoid it, is something people need. Even I can see that. Like these gatherings. They don’t just happen. People need fellowship. And there are other things as well, like the warmth of the campfire. And books. And clothes. And pumpkin pie. I’m pretty certain there’s no pumpkin pie in Hell.”
    Rosie butted her way beneath my arm, forcing her furry face into mine.
    “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten about you,” I said, kissing the top of her head.
    The Scavenger’s smile returned, albeit muted. “So this is Purgatory, is it?”
    “That is what I believe.”
    “So all these people.” The Scavenger motioned to the campfires around us. “Somehow they’re unworthy of entering