by Bryan Davis
“Definitely faster than this bus. We’d get to Castlewood in no time.”
“And in style. Then we can pick up my parents and maybe Walter’s family, turn around, and fly to the Second Eden portal. Everyone would be better off getting away from this planet.”
“Perfect. But how many passengers will the jet carry?”
“Six, besides the two seats in the cockpit.” Billy pulled a lever that opened the bus’s swinging door. “Some can sit in the aisle if we pick up too many hitchhikers.”
“That should work.” Bonnie looked outside. “Have you seen anyone?”
“Not yet. I think the airport’s closed.”
“How did you get in?”
“The gate has a combination lock. It hasn’t changed since I was here last—two, four, six, eight. I guess they’re not too worried about people breaking in.”
“No. I guess not.” A tear trickled down Bonnie’s cheek.
“Hey …” Billy brushed the tear away. “What’s wrong?”
“I was remembering a dream I just had.” Her voice cracked. “When you mentioned the lock … it came back to me.” She sniffed. “I saw Lauren trying to break through some kind of barrier, but … but she couldn’t. Then I saw Matt with his fingers inside a bleeding wound. Maybe Lauren’s trapped somewhere. Maybe Matt was trying to heal his own wound.”
She clutched Billy’s hand and pressed it against her cheek. Her face contorted, and her voice pitched higher. “Billy, I … I have to know if they’re alive. If I knew they were dead, at least … at least I would know they’re in Heaven, but this … this silence is unbearable.”
“Then we’ll ask God to give you more information.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Maybe you’re seeing Matt and Lauren in Second Eden, and they’re fine. Maybe Matt is healing someone else, and Lauren isn’t trapped. She’s just trying to get to someone who’s in trouble.” He added a cheery edge to his tone. “And that would mean she’s alive. She resurrected.”
“Maybe.” Bonnie sniffed again and looked at the floor of the bus. “I’ll ask God for more dreams. Maybe he’ll make it clear.”
“In the meantime, we’ll get to Second Eden as fast as we can.”
“Then let’s get started.” Bonnie folded her wings tightly, descended the stairs, and squeezed through the open door.
“Right behind you.” Billy turned the engine off, grabbed a flashlight from under the dash, and limped down the steps. His pair of broken toes still ached, but no crutches were available.
With the flashlight beam waving in front, they walked to the hangar’s closed door, a garage-like entry, high and wide. Billy aimed the light at a numeric pad on the wall. “Electric. It won’t work.”
“Is there a manual override?”
“Maybe.” Billy pointed the flashlight at a smaller side door. He tried the knob—locked.
“A locked door means something valuable’s inside,” Bonnie said. “The jet might be there.”
“True.” Billy rammed his shoulder against the door, but it didn’t budge. The thrust sent a painful jolt to his toes. “It’s solid.”
“The bus might have a crowbar. I saw a lockbox in the back.” Bonnie extended a hand and smiled. “The keys, please?”
“Good idea.” Billy handed her the flashlight. “I left them in the ignition.”
Bonnie ran that way, her wings flapping to boost her speed. Less than a minute later, the bus’s engine rumbled to life. The headlights flashed on and turned toward the door.
Billy shielded his eyes with a hand. What was she up to?
The horn sounded a brief toot, and the twin beams darted toward him. He hobbled out of the way. Seconds later, the bus angled toward the smaller door. The corner of the bumper crashed into the door, ripped it from its hinges, and sent it flying inside. The bus backed away several feet with one headlight cracked and darkened.
Leaving the engine running, Bonnie hustled down the bus’s stairs and flew to Billy’s side. He crossed his arms and grinned. “Let me guess. You couldn’t find the crowbar.”
“The flashlight went out. Too dark in there.” She winked, her smile evident in the headlight’s glow. “I hope your father’s company won’t mind getting the repair bill.”
“I think he’ll get over it.” Taking Bonnie’s hand, he followed the headlight’s beam through the doorway and into the hangar. A Learjet sat on a concrete expanse, its nose pointed toward the larger main door. Triangular chocks attached to ropes secured the wheels. “There she is.”
Bonnie flapped her wings and glided to the jet. She ran a hand along a spot on the fuselage where paint had peeled away. “Looks pretty old.”
“It still flies. If it didn’t, they would’ve mothballed it by now.” Billy scanned the main door’s lifting mechanism. A wide strap on each side wrapped around a shaft near the ceiling. At waist-level, a lever protruded from a control box mounted on the wall.
“I’ll crank it up.” Billy grabbed the lever. “When I was here, Oscar kept the key to the jet’s door on a hook near the back wall.”
“I’ll look for it.” Bonnie walked toward the rear of the hangar and faded in the dimness.
Billy turned the crank. It was tough but manageable. While the door slowly lifted, more light filtered in underneath. “How’s it going back there?”
“Nothing yet. I found a hook, but …”
“But what?”
“Someone’s here.”
“What?” Billy locked the sprocket in place and hurried to the back. Bonnie stood next to a man sitting on a folding chair. A cap covered his face, and his arms hung limply at his sides.
“I prodded his shoulder,” Bonnie said, “but he didn’t budge.”
Billy removed the cap. As his eyes adjusted, the face clarified. Open sores covered both cheeks, his forehead, and much of his scalp. His mouth was wide open, and a fly perched on his lower lip.
“Oscar?” Bonnie asked.
“I think so. Hard to be sure.” He checked for a pulse. Nothing. “He’s dead.”
“The poor guy!” Bonnie leaned closer. “Maybe—”
“Wait!” Billy pulled her back. “He might be contagious.”
“Not to us.” Bonnie lifted Oscar’s arms and crossed them over his chest. “These are the end times, Billy. Those who don’t follow God are suffering his wrath. We don’t have to worry about it.”
“Good thing, because we both touched him.” Billy set the cap back in place and patted Oscar’s pants pockets. Something jingled in the left one. He pushed his hand inside, withdrew a ring loaded with keys, and extended it to Bonnie. “See if you can find the right one. It should be narrow and silver. I’ll work on the door.”
She took the ring. “Will do.”
Billy hurried back to the cranking mechanism, grabbed the lever, and began turning it again. “This might take a while.”
“Let’s make it quicker.” Bonnie flew to the center of the door. Bending, she slid her hands underneath and beat her wings furiously.
Something clicked. The lever loosened. While Billy cranked, Bonnie pulled upward. The mechanism creaked, but it gave way. When the door lifted far enough to fit the jet underneath, Billy called out, “That’s good!”
Bonnie swooped down and walked into an elegant two-step landing as she brushed her hands together. “Now we can see if the jet flies.”
“It should, unless the tank hasn’t been filled. Then we’re out of luck.”
Bonnie pulled the key ring from her jeans pocket. “How far will it fly on one tank?”
“About twenty-five hundred miles, depending on cargo and wind.”
She flipped through the keys. “Twenty-five hundred? And we have to go to West Virginia and then to the portal?”
“Right, but I haven’t checked the coordinates Elam gave me, so I won’t know if we can make it until I plug them into the jet’s GPS unit.”
“But we know the portal is west of the Mis
sissippi.” Her eyes rolled upward in thought. “Not much room for error.”
“We can make it.” Billy looked toward the rear of the hangar. “I’m just wondering what to do about Oscar. We can’t call anyone—tell them to pick him up. And we don’t have time for a burial.” He pulled a pair of ropes and slid the wheel chocks away. “We have to move on.”
“I know.” Bonnie lowered her gaze. “We have lives to save.”
He set a finger under her chin and lifted her head. “Tell you what. I’ll write a note and put it somewhere conspicuous in the bus.
With the headlight on, someone’s bound to come along to check it out. They’ll find him.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
Billy searched a worktable that abutted a side wall and found a clipboard and pen. He jotted a note, speaking while writing. “To whom it may concern. I found Oscar Mendez dead in a chair near the back of the hangar. I had no way to call for help. Please take care of his body and contact his family. I took the Lear because of an emergency. It belongs to my father, Jared Bannister.” Billy then added his signature.
Bonnie looked at the note. “I guess there’s not much else to say.”
“No time to write a book.” Billy limped out the hangar door. “I’ll be right back.” He climbed into the bus’s driver’s seat, curled the note, and wedged it into the steering wheel. The bus chugged noisily, backfired, and died. The headlight dimmed. It wouldn’t last much longer. Airport employees would have to find Oscar without a beacon.
He turned the headlight off and stepped outside. Darkness again enveloped the area, veiling the hangar. A cold breeze raised a chill. A vague sense of danger filtered in, like fog settling in a valley—nothing close or urgent, more like an encroaching influence, a corruption of the unguarded soul.
He looked up. The sky had cleared to the north, revealing a dazzling display of stars. Except for his thumping heart, all was quiet. The scene felt surreal … familiar … like a cold night in England when he and Professor Hamilton gazed at a star-filled sky while they waited for Bonnie to arrive from her transatlantic flight, a flight propelled by dragon wings.
The memory animated and added voices. The professor slid gloves over his aged fingers and said, “Much of what you have learned about faith, you have learned from me, but where you are soon going, I cannot come.” After checking the time on his pocket watch, he enclosed it in his gloved hand and stared at the northern sky. “God always provides a guiding light, William. No matter how dark it seems or how terrible the situation, you can always count on finding a glimmer, a spark of light in the deepest blackness that will tell you which way to go.”
As the memory faded, Billy searched the sky. The North Star twinkled in its usual place, never changing, always ready to provide a guiding light.
“Prof.” Billy swallowed past a lump in his throat. “I wish you were here. The world has gone completely out of its mind. Arramos and the Enforcers are collecting children, even babies, and gassing them. And people aren’t rising up to put a stop to the madness. It’s like they don’t care. I never dreamed that darkness like this could sweep across the world, but it’s happening. It’s really happening.” A tear slid down his cheek. “I wish I could ask you for advice right now. While children are dying, I’m just a crippled man flailing in the darkness. I don’t know what to do.”
The professor’s words returned to mind again. “God always provides a guiding light, William.” The words echoed as if called from a distant valley. “Do you understand?”
Billy focused on the North Star and echoed his answer from that night. “Yes. I think I know exactly what you mean.”
“Billy?” Bonnie called from the darkness. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” He whispered to himself, “Sort of.”
“I got the jet door open and the stairs down. And the jet has snacks and water bottles.”
“Good. Oscar must’ve been getting ready to fly somewhere.” Limping again, he retraced his steps to the hangar, now visible in the glow of an emerging moon. As he passed Bonnie, he spoke through a narrowed throat. “Let’s go.”
He climbed the waist-high airstair and settled in the pilot’s seat. Bonnie followed and stood in the aisle just behind the cockpit.
Billy nodded toward the copilot’s chair. “This jet is supposed to have two operators, so I’ll need a beautiful copilot to help me reach some controls.”
“Assuming you mean me …” Bonnie folded her wings tightly and sat in the chair. “Thank you for the compliment.”
Billy reached across and caressed her cheek. “We were separated for fifteen years. I’m not going to miss any chance to tell you. You’re like a guiding light in the darkness, beautiful inside and out.”
She grasped his hand and kissed it. “And so are you.”
“You think so?” He grinned. “Even with broken toes? Bruised face? Smelly feet?”
Bonnie leaned across and kissed him. “More than ever.”
“That does it. I am officially inspired.” Billy flipped on the battery switch. The control panel lit up with various colors all across the front. As he read the instruments, memories of his training hours flowed easily to mind. “Okay. This shouldn’t be a problem at all.”
Bonnie touched a glowing screen near the center of the console. “GPS?”
“Yep. I hope the satellites are still functioning. With everything dark on the ground, we’ll need the GPS to find a decent landing strip.”
“Did Elam say what the terrain is like around the new portal?”
Billy picked up a map from the floor. “Just coordinates. No details. We’ll have to check it out when we get there and put her down wherever we can. We might have to fly around a bit to find a spot.”
Bonnie fastened her seat belt. “How long will it take to get to West Virginia?”
“Counting takeoff and landing time, a little extra to figure out where to land, maybe a couple of hours. We’ll get there around dawn.”
“Are you thinking about landing at the Castlewood airport? It’s pretty far from your parents’ house.”
Billy shook his head. “We need to land close enough to walk and minimize exposure to fallout.” He sketched a mental road map of his neighborhood including bridges and power lines. “I think I can put her down on the main highway near where it intersects Cordelle Road. I doubt anyone will be driving on it. But if the space to land is too short, I might have to deploy the drag chute to stop in time.”
Bonnie nodded. “That’s about a mile from your parents’ house, so I’ll just fly there from the highway. That’s the best way to avoid much exposure time, especially since your toes are banged up.”
“Good thinking.” Billy fastened his seat belt. “Let’s go to Castlewood.”
CHAPTER 4
A FORK IN THE ROAD
“Lauren!” Matt grabbed her hand. “How did you get here?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head and blinked hard. “The last thing I remember is chasing Tamiel. I was wondering why he wasn’t flying away. Then the dragon picked him up, and I said something that made the dragon drop him, so I just tackled him and held on as tight as I could.” She furrowed her brow. “Did he die?”
“He burned to a crisp.” Matt stood, helped Lauren to her feet, and pulled her into his arms. “You killed him. You sacrificed your life to save the world.”
“Then are you dead, too?” She looked around, again blinking, as if in a daze. “This isn’t Heaven.”
“I’ll try to explain.” He drew himself back, leaving a wet imprint on her shirt. Her clothes still displayed rips in the fabric from earlier struggles. How strange that she would be wearing the same clothes that perished in flames only moments ago. “Sorry. I got you wet. We went for an unscheduled swim while trying to resurrect you. I guess it worked anyway.”
Lauren half closed an eye. “Did it really? I just saw my body burn to ashes.”
; “But you’re solid now.” He compressed her arm. “This must be your new body.”
“Maybe.” She touched a spot on her forehead, then on her wrist. “The stitches are gone, so that’s an improvement.”
After greeting Listener and Sir Barlow, Lauren set her hands on her hips and pivoted slowly. Flames from the tree highlighted her worried expression. “The portals to Earth and Heaven are closed.”
“Portals? What do you mean?”
“This is the tree-of-life room in Hades. It had portals to Heaven and Earth.” She stopped her rotation and looked at Matt. “How did I get here?”
“It’s a complicated story.” He glanced at the ashes that were once Lauren’s body, but her presence seemed to make the human debris a nonissue. In any case, they had to hurry. Semiramis’s deadly device still lay hidden somewhere in Second Eden.
He provided Lauren with a quick summary of events, including his harrowing descent into the abyss while carrying her body on his back, Darcy’s sacrificial death in Jade’s sanctum, Abaddon’s written entry in his book, the destruction of his lair, and their need to find Semiramis’s device. He also included his own failure—disbelieving Darcy’s change of heart—and how he embraced the faith his mother had told him about, faith that helped him cast off the bitterness poisoning his mind.
When he finished, he gave a light shrug. “And now here we are, and apparently we have a new portal to Jade’s sanctum.”
Sir Barlow clapped Matt on the back. “Outstanding work, lad. You are a hero among heroes.”
Listener folded her hands at her waist. “Thank you for baring your soul for us. I’m sure we will all benefit from your example of faith … especially me.”
“Matt.” Lauren took his hand. “I don’t know what to say. You carried my body through all that … that torture?”
As a tear dripped to her cheek, Matt wiped it away with a thumb and cupped his palm under her chin. “You’re worth suffering any torture.”