by Bryan Davis
Movement from the Foleys’ backyard caught Marilyn’s eye—a woman carrying a sleeping boy, his head against her shoulder, both barefoot and wearing long-sleeved pajamas. Marilyn stifled a gasp. Shelly and Mark!
While Shelly skulked toward the front, staying close to the house’s stucco wall, the Foleys’ door opened. Carl appeared, wearing a zippered West Virginia sweater and leaning on a cane. “What may I do for you officers?”
“Do you have a child here?” The officer looked at a notepad clutched by his thick glove. His voice was barely audible through his protective hood. “Markus Pastore?”
Carl shot him an annoyed look. “Of course not. Both of my children are grown and out of the house.”
“Our information says that he’s here.” The officer unfolded a sheet and showed it to Carl. “We have a warrant to search the premises.”
Carl gestured inside. “Be my guest.”
The officer waved a hand at the other two. “Secure the perimeter.”
One of the officers walked toward the wall where Shelly hid, while the other hurried in the opposite direction. Their thick suits and hoods made them look like yellow-skinned aliens stomping around in a hostile environment.
Marilyn ran toward the closer officer. “Wait! I saw a woman carrying a little boy! I’m so glad you came, because she’s obviously exposing him to the fallout.” She pointed down the street, away from Shelly. “They went that way.”
“Impossible.” The officer’s eyes, visible through the hood’s plastic shield, narrowed. “I’ve been watching the area. Besides, our drones would’ve spotted them.”
“Drones?”
The officer looked up. Marilyn followed his line of sight. A winged beast sprang from a treetop and began flying in a circle above the road. With black scales, leathery wings, and hideous face, it looked like a cross between a dragon and a vulture.
Marilyn ventured a stealthy glance at Shelly as she pressed her back against the wall. “So that’s a drone?”
The officer nodded. “There’s more where that one came from. And you should get under cover before you get too much radiation.” He pushed Marilyn to the side. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
A shot rang out from inside the house. The officer spun and ran toward the front door. The third officer joined him, and they bustled inside.
Marilyn pulled out her gun and waved at Shelly, whisper shouting, “This way!”
Lowering her head, Shelly ran toward Marilyn. When she arrived, they hid together behind the paddy wagon. Mark’s eyes were closed, and drool streamed onto Shelly’s shoulder. “He’s asleep,” she whispered. “He’s on Benadryl. He’ll stay quiet.”
“Good. We’ll try to sneak—”
More shots erupted from the Foleys’, too many to count. Marilyn pointed toward her house. “Go! Adam’s there!”
Holding Mark close, Shelly ran. The drone swooped toward her. Marilyn aimed her pistol and fired at the beast—once, twice, three times. One bullet zinged past it, a second glanced off its scales, but the third plunked into its head.
The drone crashed to the street and toppled over Shelly. As it thrashed on top of her and Mark, Marilyn dashed toward them. Adam burst from the front yard and ran as well, Excalibur drawn. With a quick swing, he lopped off the drone’s head. It fell limp, dark blood gushing from its neck.
Adam and Marilyn pulled Shelly from underneath the carcass. With Mark still in her embrace, she steadied herself. The boy wailed. Bleeding claw marks streaked across his cheeks and chin.
Marilyn pivoted toward the Foleys’ house, her gun extended. More flapping noises drifted from the trees lining the street. Their branches rustled with veiled movements. “Adam …” Steeling her muscles, she glanced at him. “Get them inside.”
“Let’s go.” Just as Adam reached for Shelly’s arm, a second drone swooped. It latched on to Mark’s shoulders, snatched him from Shelly’s grasp, and zoomed upward.
Shelly screamed. Adam leaped but missed Mark’s rising legs. Marilyn aimed her gun, then lowered it. With Mark swaying under the beast’s talons, firing was out of the question.
“Shelly!” Carl shouted as he hobbled onto the street. Catherine supported him with a shoulder, blood on her long-sleeved blouse and denim pants.
As the second drone circled overhead, a third launched from a tree and dove toward Carl and Catherine. Adam took off toward them in a sprint, Excalibur still in his grasp.
A new shot rang out. Gun in hand, the first officer limped from the Foleys’ house. Blood covered his hazmat vest. “Stop!” He lifted the plastic face shield and blew a whistle. The third drone flew up to the tree and perched on a limb.
Everyone stood motionless—Marilyn next to her driveway with Shelly, Carl and Catherine twenty paces closer to their house, and Adam halfway in between.
As the officer limped toward the Foleys, he pointed the gun at Carl. “This is for killing my partners.” He pulled the trigger, but the gun just clicked.
Adam charged. The officer raised the whistle and shouted, “Stop, or I’ll order the drone to drop the kid!”
Again Adam halted. He pointed Excalibur at the officer. “You’ll kill him anyway.”
“Ridiculous. He’s being taken into protective custody.” The officer backed to the paddy wagon and opened the rear door. “Everyone inside. You’re all under arrest.”
“In your dreams.” Adam dashed toward him. The officer blew two short bleats with the whistle. The drone opened its talons, and Mark plunged toward the street.
A blur streaked by and snatched Mark out of the air. As the blur slowed and landed, its form clarified. A winged woman stood next to Carl and Catherine, Mark in her embrace. She patted him on the back as he sobbed.
Marilyn gasped. “Bonnie!”
Shelly staggered to Bonnie with outstretched arms. “Mark!” She took him and held him close as he sobbed. “Thank you, Bonnie! Oh, thank you! Thank you!”
Marilyn jogged over to them and grasped Bonnie’s hand. “How did you get here? Where did you come from?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute.” She pointed upward. “First things first. Those monsters are deadly. Better check Mark for bites.”
In the tree, a drone sat on the branch. Its head bobbed as if it were waiting for a command. Another flew directly above in a slow orbit.
Shelly pulled down on the collar of Mark’s pajama top and searched his skin. “I don’t see any bites. Just scratch marks. They’re pretty deep, though.”
Adam stood over the officer, who now lay on the road. He ripped the protective headgear away and set Excalibur’s point at the officer’s nose. “Tell the drones to get lost.”
The officer held the whistle with a trembling hand and blew a series of short bursts. Seconds later, the pair of drones flew lazily away.
Adam pointed at the paddy wagon with the blade. “Now get in.”
The officer struggled to his feet, groaning. “I’ll bleed to death in there. My partners are already dead.”
Marilyn focused on the officer’s face. An ulcerated sore stretched across his forehead and down one cheek.
Adam jerked the whistle from him. “Then start walking. Maybe you can find someone to help you.”
Holding a hand to his chest, the officer hobbled away.
When Adam joined the group, Carl patted him on the back. “Good work, son. But why did you risk attacking him?”
Adam winked at Bonnie. “I saw air support coming in. I knew she’d catch Mark.”
With Mark crying softly on her shoulder, Shelly kissed Adam’s cheek. “Thank you.” She looked at the others. “Thanks, all of you.”
“Something strange.” Adam nodded toward the retreating officer. “Did you see the sores on that guy?” He dropped the whistle. “I don’t want to catch whatever’s eating him.”
Bonnie nudged the whistle with her shoe. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain the sores after we get out of here.” She spread her wings aro
und Marilyn and Adam. “Billy’s waiting with a jet on the highway next to the Shell station. Now that it’s daylight, someone’s bound to notice him soon.”
“How is he doing?” Marilyn asked as she slid her gun into her pocket.
“He’s banged up, but otherwise he’s okay.” Bonnie set her hands on her hips. “There’s a lot more to tell, but basically we’re going to fly to the Second Eden portal and get everyone we can out of this mess.”
“That would be great, but Mardon says the portals are all closed and can’t be opened till he gets there.”
Bonnie drew her head back. “Mardon’s here? How does he know?”
“Oh, he’s here all right.” Marilyn crossed her arms. “He’s a ghost again, and that means the portals are closed. And wait till you hear about Jared, but I can tell you while we’re hoofing it to the highway.”
Catherine hugged Carl’s arm. “Can you walk that far?”
He leaned to one side and grimaced. “I’m not sure. It’s about a mile away, and there are a couple of mean hills between here and there. No use trying to start the car again. The nuclear pulse flat killed it.”
“And my Mazda’s cooked, too,” Adam said.
“Then I’ll get the wheelchair.” Catherine jogged toward their house.
Adam handed Excalibur to Marilyn. “I’ll get Larry’s portable brain unit.” He hurried toward the door.
“And bring Jared’s pot!” Marilyn called.
Adam pivoted and walked backwards toward the house. “And Mardon?”
“Yes …” She let out a sigh. “And Mardon.”
Carl set a hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. “Can you tell us if Walter and Ashley are all right?”
Bonnie smiled, though her expression seemed to mask torture. “They’re fine. At least they were when Billy and I left them last night. They were in a solar-powered car heading for the portal, so we might see them there if they haven’t already gone through it.”
“Bonnie?” Marilyn touched her arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Well …” Tears crept to Bonnie’s eyes. Biting her lip, she brushed the tears away with a knuckle. “I’ll tell you while we’re flying. I want Billy to be with us.”
Marilyn’s throat narrowed painfully. Something awful must have happened. “I understand.”
Catherine arrived pushing the wheelchair. A purse and a small suitcase lay in the seat. Carl slid the items to the side and squeezed into the chair. “Now …” He reached for Mark. “Let’s give this big boy a ride.”
Several shots rang out. Shelly crumpled to the street, Mark still in her arms. Catherine screamed and threw herself over them.
The officer stood next to the paddy wagon’s open door, a rifle poised at his shoulder. “You should’ve listened! Now all of you get in the wagon!”
CHAPTER 6
THREE DOORS
Lauren walked with Sir Barlow into Jade’s sanctum. From the rear, the flaming tree in Hades painted a thousand tiny flames on this room’s surrounding wall. The flickers spun and danced; they seemed to fly back and forth—random and wild—radiant butterflies caught in a cyclone.
She snatched at a butterfly, but her hand passed through it. Was it a ghost? A hologram? In this chamber of mysteries, who could tell?
Sir Barlow pulled the cloak from their shoulders and tied it around his waist. “We are surrounded by a mirror, Miss. The lights are an optical illusion.”
“A beautiful illusion.” As her eyes adjusted to the carousel of lights, a glowing central column filled with tiny hexagonal holes came into view. A laser beam shot from four of the holes, each beam ending at a spot on the surrounding wall—a white one at the portal they had just passed through and three more spread equidistant around the perimeter, one white and two red. At each beam’s contact point on the wall, the light bled from the center and filled a window-like rectangle, its edges hazy.
“What is this?” Lauren reached for the chambers’ central column, but Sir Barlow grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
“Darcy met her tragic death by putting her finger into one of those holes.”
“I’m already dead, but I’ll be careful.” Lauren waved a hand across one of the white laser beams. The light passed through without harming her skin or affecting the rectangle on the wall.
Sir Barlow pivoted slowly. “The four-armed lass is not in sight, but I assume she could appear at any moment. According to Matt, she can crawl along the ceiling or floor like a spider, so be watchful. She might be able to provide valuable information.”
Lauren searched the floor. A glittering object lay near the base of the column. She picked it up and set it on her palm. The egg-sized stone cast a green glow over her skin. “A jade?”
“Ah!” Sir Barlow touched the gem. “The mistress of this chamber had this embedded in her chest, perhaps a symbol that matches her name.” He touched his tunic several inches below his throat. “It was about right here on her.”
“Embedded?” Lauren asked. “Through her bones?”
“I think so, though I failed to examine it closely.” He cleared his throat. “Her four arms distracted me.”
“Understandable.” Lauren touched the gem with a fingertip. “It couldn’t have accidentally fallen out of her chest.”
“That much I am certain of.” Sir Barlow dragged his boot along the spot where the gem had been. “Considering how Darcy died and the proximity of the stone to the column, perhaps Jade also inserted a finger into a hole and dissolved here.”
“Or maybe she put a finger in each hole the beams are coming from. This column is narrow enough to reach around.”
Sir Barlow again pivoted in place. “Agreed, Miss. Four arms, four beams, four portals. It all adds up.”
“Which explains why the portal we came through was still charged. The tree didn’t create it; Jade did.” Lauren ran a finger along the gem’s slick surface. “Why would Jade give her life to open them?”
Sir Barlow stopped his rotation. “Surely she knew that Abaddon’s Lair was destroyed. Perhaps she is giving us passage to the life reservoir.”
“Okay, but why four?” Lauren looked back at the tree room. “Well, one let us come in here, but why three unknown passages? We have no idea which one leads to the reservoir.”
Sir Barlow tapped his chin with a finger. “Perhaps the way is guarded by a puzzle. Each portal leads to a puzzle piece, and once the three are joined, we can discern the proper path.”
Lauren raised the gem and looked through it. The portal windows altered in color but otherwise remained unchanged. “I understand why the reservoir would be guarded by something, but if all you have to do is collect three puzzle pieces, anyone could solve it.”
“Meaning that a scoundrel could also figure it out.”
“Exactly.”
“Then we will need an expert at puzzle solving. When I was trapped in the candlestone, my fellows and I concocted all sorts of mind-bending puzzles, so perhaps I can be of service.” Sir Barlow passed his hand across a red beam. It also seemed to do no harm. “First, we confirm the purpose of the puzzle. Until now, Jade herself guarded against invaders, but once her duty had been fulfilled, she opened the portals for us because she knew you had not yet been resurrected. Such a sacrifice was both costly and risky, but it might have been the only way to bring you back to life.”
Lauren lowered her head. Another death. Another tragedy. “So many people have sacrificed so much … for Matt … for me … for people they barely even knew.”
“To be sure.” Sir Barlow set a hand on her shoulder. “Sacrifice is the heartbeat of love, and those who love others sacrifice themselves willingly.”
Lauren slowly closed her hand around the gem. Sacrifice was all about love. Darcy and Jade died willingly. Feeling guilty about it didn’t make sense. “You’re right.”
“Now that we know the purpose, we can assume that each step of the puzzle will have the same theme—sacrificial love. Keeping
this in mind will guide our steps.” He gestured toward the laser pointing to the left. “I suggest that we try the portal with the white beam first, since it differs from the other two new ones.”
Lauren slid the jade into her pocket and peered at the white splotch on the wall as it spread like oil across water. It vanished at the edges and created a ragged, door-sized window suspended two feet from the floor. Nothing but blackness lay beyond the boundary. “No time like the present.”
Sir Barlow untied the cloak, spread it over himself and Lauren, and helped her vault to the window’s lower border. As she stood with him in the portal plane, crackling light flashed in her peripheral vision. When they stepped through, the crackles ceased. She turned and looked back. The white beam faded until it vanished.
Arid heat blew across Lauren’s face, drying her eyes. A dim land of cracked earth and sparse grass spread out in all directions, save for a long row of trees perhaps a hundred yards directly ahead. Near the horizon to the right, an enormous red sun illuminated the area. No clouds interrupted the purplish sky.
The hot breeze flapped the cloak. “Well, it is certainly too warm to keep this on.” Sir Barlow whipped the cloak off and began tying it around his waist. “I suggest that we explore that stand of trees. Since it appears to be late afternoon, I wouldn’t be surprised if night arrives soon, so we should not delay.”
“It seems like the only choice. We just have to make sure we can find our way back. I suppose we’ll leave footprints, but a breeze could cover them up.”
“No problem, Miss.” Sir Barlow withdrew his sword and pressed the point into the ground. “In this climate, I think it is appropriate to say that we will be hot on the trail.”
“Good idea.” A tremor ran along the ground, sending vibrations up Lauren’s legs and spine. “An earthquake?”
“A minor one. Nothing to worry about unless another is ready to rumble. Such shocks often come in a series.”
“Then we’d better hurry.”
“Right.” He marched toward the trees, holding the sword at his side as the tip scratched the ground along the way.