No birds flitted from one treetop to the next, vanishing into heavily needled alcoves. No ground squirrels scampered across carpets of crackling dead leaves from one opening of their burrow to the next. No deer clung to the wilderness in the distance, their curiosity piqued by the rumble of the engines violating their sanctum. An aura of death emanated in their stead, creating a vacuum of life that sapped the strength from the riders speeding through the forests of purgatory.
Phoenix shivered on the motorcycle behind Missy. Not because of the breeze or the weather, for only heat rose in waves from the freshly-baked ground, but because of the narrowing gap between him and his opposite number, the dark half of himself he had begun to think of as some inseparable shadow. With each mile that fell away into the dust, the feeling of dread amplified tenfold. He no longer pretended to know what waited on the far side of the Rocky Mountains. When he closed his eyes, all he could hear were the screams of his friends playing over rapidly changing images of fire and torment. By this time tomorrow, they would be standing at the precipice of their fates.
He was tired. So tired. Exhaustion had passed like a speeding bullet train, leaving him somehow hollowed, his emotions frayed. He wept for the forest and the innocent life forms consumed by the blaze. He cried for the pain and suffering that radiated from the earth in dissipating funnels of smoke. And for the first time in his life, he wept for himself. He was scared. Even locked away in the darkness of the basement that had been his home, he had never been afraid for himself. When the Swarm had dangled over him from the ceiling, waiting for him to rise just a single inch to tear him to bloody ribbons, he hadn’t been frightened for himself. He was unaccustomed to such selfishness, the feeling stirring a sense of loathing. His friends needed him, now more than ever, and he was unable to set aside his terror long enough to be strong for them.
Shaking his head, he tried to force his feelings down deep into his well of thought, where maybe he could still hear their echoes, but he wouldn’t have to deal with them directly. He tried to focus on anything else, but the eternal forest of scorched nothingness only made the echoes more insistent. He thought of his friends and again heard their agonized cries. Honing in on the buzz of the motorcycles only conjured images of flies circling the corpses of his loved ones.
He experienced a brief moment of lucidity. Those emotions and the pain they summoned, all of the self-doubt and dread, were gifts from his adversary, the first of many battles to come between them. He had underestimated the power of Death to reach though the ether and wage war against him. What kind of strength did this black monster possess to be able to nearly cripple him from afar? How much greater would that power be when they finally stood face to face?
That line of thinking could only lead him back into the cruel grasp of depression. There was no option but to let the path lead him where it may. He would stand across the field of battle from serpentine Death with the ultimate fate of humanity hanging in the balance…but not today. This was his time to make preparations. His adversary knew it, and thus launched a mental assault to distract him from the task at hand. He needed to not only ready himself, but his newfound family as well. He still had two precious gifts left to bestow, two parts of himself to share in the only way he knew how. Healing Ray’s eyes had granted second sight to the blind. In her hands, Evelyn contained the lifeblood of nature. And he had given everything that he was, the promise of love and life, his very heart, to Missy. Jake and Jill had been special without his endowment. They could see not the world as it was, but as it would be, a power that had already served them well, but would be of greatest use should they manage to defeat Death. To begin the world anew, they would need visionaries. That’s what they were. Jake was the future of mankind, the child king who would usher in a new era of peace on earth, whose seed would pass on the very best traits and guarantee a future dedicated to humanity’s ascension rather than its obliteration. And Jill. Jill was…
“Pregnant?” he whispered. A sense of hope swelled within him, filling his bloodstream and traveling outward to overwhelm his entire body. All thought of bloodshed and screaming death vanished, leaving only a newfound sense of love and understanding. He looked back over his shoulder and saw nothing of the scorched earth or the trees standing as tombstones to mark its demise, only a young girl struggling against a big bike, carrying within her enough hope for the entire world. Within her was another dreamer, whose visions would show nothing of the evils of her species, but the promise of its perpetuation amidst green fields of flowers, of love and laughter…of hope.
They would triumph, Phoenix thought. Not because they were stronger than the evil ahead, but because they must. There was a child who would be king and a queen who must be delivered into safety.
His own life was of no consequence. He would lay it down without a second thought.
The world would endure.
They would survive.
And hope would be birthed into a land that had known none for far too long.
III
THE SKY CLUNG TO ITS MANILA HUE, BUT THE CHURNING SMOKE WAS NOW well behind them. Adam had been watching the path of the sun, still clearly visible overhead in the unmarred patch between the midnight-blue peaks behind and those still ahead. It had fallen to him to push the others, balancing progress against potential demoralization. They needed a break to refuel themselves and their bikes with the dwindling rations remaining for both. The celestial orb had barely passed its zenith and begun its descent into the waiting arms of the coming night when opportunity finally presented itself. The trail had wound to the south, the forest falling away to the right in the form of a steep slope that led downhill past burnt trees and charred boulders to a lake that could have been a window to heaven. Sunlight had glimmered invitingly from the gentle white caps, small watery hands waving them closer. Never had such a perfect vision called to him. The others had felt it as well, a budding sense of anticipation building as they had woven down through the charred remains and finally driven right out onto the soot-covered shore.
Adam had shed his boots and rolled up his pants, and now stood shin-deep in the crisp water, chewing on leathery kelp and staring toward the center of the lake. Clusters of cattails stood to either side, saved from the fires by the water lapping their stalks. The plants closer to the bank hadn’t fared nearly as well, but there was something special about the fact that these had. Every tree as far as he could see, every coarse black trunk outside the water had succumbed to its flaming demise. He couldn’t help but draw a measure of symmetry. If these few plants, wavering on the wind and throwing downy seeds from their blossoming brown buds could survive, then maybe, just maybe, they could too.
Swallowing the last of his dubiously satisfying meal, he turned and splashed back toward the shore. The tension had abandoned him through his wrinkled toes, into the relaxing water, and it appeared to have had a similar effect on the others. Jill and Mare held hands on the bank, splashing their feet and giggling like young lovers should. Missy tugged on Phoenix’s arm, trying to drag him into deeper water with a sly twinkle in her eyes that promised a good dousing. Jake stood in the shallows, rummaging through the silt for flat stones while Ray counted how many times they skipped by sound. Evelyn sloshed out to meet Adam, wrapping her arms around his waist and turning to head back to shore with him.
“Isn’t this beautiful?” she said, gesturing in a wide arc with her free arm. “I can’t think of a more perfect spot.”
Adam smiled. He loved seeing her happy, if only momentarily.
“You’ve got something…”she said, pointing to her top front tooth. “Right here.”
Adam scraped at his tooth with a fingernail. “Did I get it?” he asked, baring his teeth.
Evelyn laughed. “It looks like a whole plant growing out of your gums.”
“Stupid kelp,” he said, again chiseling at his tooth with his nail.
“Let me,” she said, her mouth closing over his before he could even move his finger. Her to
ngue teased his teeth, which he allowed to part to welcome it into his mouth. His finger now freed, he wrapped both arms around her and their bodies merged together.
Their lips parted and she leaned her forehead against his. She looked up at him through those fathomless green eyes, and he wished for nothing more than to spend the remainder of his life staring into them.
“Did you get it?” he asked, beaming.
She laughed. “Nope.”
He rubbed his upper gums with his index finger and smiled.
“There you go,” she said, taking his hand and guiding him toward the shore.
The time had come, he knew. They were burning daylight, though he couldn’t understand why they were in such a rush to reach their destination, especially why he felt compelled to hurry them along. He was a rancher driving cattle to the slaughter, his herd consisting of his only friends in the world, his family, the love of his life.
He looked at Evelyn, her hair tangled and dirty, her face smudged with mud and a spot of blood by her right ear that she hadn’t been able to wipe away, and yet still she was positively radiant, the most beautiful woman he could ever imagine. She was so strong, so brave, and his chest ached at the prospect of having to release her hand when they reached the bank, that union the only thing that felt real in the entire world. Before he knew he was going to do it, he stopped.
“I love you,” he said, surprised not by the words, but by the seriousness with which he had spoken them. Making sure she knew that right then and there seemed like the most important thing he had ever done.
She looked into his eyes again, preparing to smile, but the look on his face caught her by surprise.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her brows knitted with concern.
“Yeah…I just…just needed you to know that.”
She squeezed his hand. “I love you, too.”
A rush of relief passed through him, his strained posture visibly relaxing.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess maybe my emotions got the better of me for a moment. Let down your guard for a second, right?”
“You don’t have to have your guard up with me. You know that.”
He smiled and looked toward the others, who had seen his advance back to land, and taken the cue to start preparing themselves to hit the trail again.
“I’m not good at these things,” he said.
“You did fine,” she said, pulling him closer, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaning her head on his shoulder.
Adam kissed the top of her head and was about to repeat his declaration when his mind was derailed by the revelation of what he saw ahead. The formerly black cattails near the shore were now green and lustrous, thicker than they had been before. As he watched, the thick seed clusters swelled like hotdogs roasting on a stick until they exploded, filling the air with fluttering white seedlings that floated down to the bank, from which long green blades of grass now grew from the charcoal, and alighted on the water.
“You did this,” he whispered. “You, Evelyn. You brought them back to life.”
She could only shake her head, the color draining from her face as what almost looked like snow surrounded them.
“You’re amazing.”
Evelyn leaned away and splashed toward the bank, falling to her hands and knees. Thin green lines slithered out from beneath her, curling up between her fanned fingers. They widened into distinct blades and folded almost lovingly over the backs of her hands.
“I can’t believe it,” she whispered, rising from the ground. Four oblong swatches of grass remained against the soot, patches of fur on a mangy dog.
Everyone had seen, and edged closer to her until she was surrounded. They all crouched and stroked the grass, petting it softly.
Phoenix hung back, for only he was immune to the surprise.
Adam watched the pink-eyed boy, whose white locks were stirred by the rising breeze, cattail blossoms swirling around him, and suddenly it all made sense. Ray’s sight. Evelyn’s eyes and her miraculous green thumb.
Phoenix caught Adam’s stare and looked quickly away.
Until then, Adam hadn’t truly noticed how thin Phoenix had become. The bones in his wrists were knobby, his cheekbones more pronounced. He’d become more withdrawn, but not because of the mental preoccupation as Adam had assumed. He was passing his life force into them, sharing the amazing powers that he possessed. And such a thin frame could only hold so much.
He was killing himself for them, Adam knew.
Slowly but surely, he was killing himself for them.
IV
THE COLD WATER FELT AMAZING ON HER FEET. JILL HADN’T REALIZED JUST how hot and sweaty they had become inside her shoes. Her head ached and her back felt as though it had been twisted in knots, but for the moment she was able to relax. She leaned forward, cupped a double handful of water, and splashed it into her face. She scrubbed the caked soot and sweat from her cheeks and forehead, thrilling in the sensation of the frigid fingers of water trickling down the back of her head and along her neck.
Jill leaned back, bracing herself on her elbows, and looked up to the heavens, closing her eyes and allowing the sunlight to massage her features. There was a splash beside her, then another as Mare plopped down on the shore to her left. She pretended not to notice, waiting as long as she could bear before kicking her feet and dousing both of them with water. Giggling, she sat up, took his hand, and pulled him closer.
“You’ll pay for that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her toward the lake. She squealed and fought against him all the way until they splashed down into the water.
Jill jumped right back up to her feet, standing there with her arms held away from her body, water draining from her clothing. Mare sat in the silt, looking up at her and laughing. She lunged for him and drove his head back beneath the surface. He emerged a heartbeat later, spitting out the foul taste of the lake, his smile cocked to the side, obviously prepared to go another round, but Jill had already sloshed back to the bank. She sat and patted the ground beside her.
“Uh, uh,” Mare said. “You can’t start something you aren’t prepared to finish.”
“I did finish. And in case you didn’t notice, I won.”
“Then I want a rematch,” Mare said, climbing out and plopping down beside her.
“You’ll get your chance,” she said coyly, taking his hand in hers and setting them on her thigh.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even dripping wet, her hair hanging in dirty strands down her cheeks, she was positively radiant. It was almost as though she glowed.
“You smell like wet dog,” she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye before again looking out across the lake.
“I’ve got news for you, honey. You’re a little past ripe yourself.”
Jill squeezed Mare’s hand and lowered her head to his shoulder. This was how life was supposed to be. And maybe one day soon it could be like this again. She chased away the thoughts of her last vision, of both of them being incinerated by flames. Now was not the time for such things. This was their moment. Their perfect moment. And she wasn’t about to spoil it.
She sensed movement to her right and turned to face the reeds. As she watched, those burnt black sticks widened, the black carbon falling away to reveal green stalks straightening and plumping as they grew. Knobs formed atop them, elongating into exaggerated cattails, the soft meat swelling from within until the stems buckled under their weight.
“What in the—?” Mare gasped as the strange blossoms exploded, filling the air with white fuzz like goose down.
Jill smiled and held out her hands, allowing the fluff to land on her open palms. She brought her right hand to her mouth and gently blew the seedlings back into the storm. The entire world, it seemed, was filled with the joyous snow. Jill was mesmerized by it, clumps falling straight down while others swirled on the air currents. It was like being set down in a child�
�s dream where teddy bear stuffing rained from above, and there was nothing more threatening than the accumulation, which invited her to lie down atop it and drift off to sleep. The transition had been so gradual that she hadn’t known she had woken into a vision until the white dots coalesced into a great white falcon, wings spread wide and descending toward her with outstretched talons, not from the cloud of seedlings, but from a blizzard of snow. Its claws clamped down on her thigh and its wings folded to its sides. Jill looked for Mare’s hand, but it was gone. She sat by herself on the shore, only the snowstorm had closed in so tightly around her that all she could clearly see was the bird, its face inches from her own. She looked into those stark white orbs and was transported.
She was again in the cavern, sitting in one of the earthy rooms of the pueblo. There was a small child swaddled in her arms, her face still bright red, eyes closed. Before Jill, her dark-skinned ancestor sat, looking directly into her eyes, but they were the white eyes of the bird.
“This can’t be a vision,” Jill said in her mind. “If this were going to happen, you couldn’t be here.”
The woman nodded. “Yes, child.”
“The baby. Does she ever exist?”
“If you are willing to sacrifice everything for her.”
“I don’t understand. If I lay down my life for her, she can never be born.”
Her multiple-great grandmother smiled, but it contained only sadness.
“You must tell him.”
“Who? What am I—?”
“Tell him now.”
The lake again appeared before her, the last remnants of the cattails settling atop it. She still held handfuls of cotton, and Mare was beside her as he had been all along. She looked at him, at his crooked smile and his crooked nose, at the way he looked at everything through shining eyes full of wonder. She had never loved anyone as much as she loved him at that moment.
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