by S. L. Naeole
“What are you doing?” he bellowed before tearing me away and flinging me to the side as though I were an insignificant speck of dirt. “Learn to play the game right or don’t play at all!”
I stumbled, but did not fall as my feet found sure footing in the soft grass thanks to my boots. With dogged determination, I ran forward and insinuated myself between them once again, this time alerting Robert to my presence the only way I knew how.
My mouth pressed on his and I wanted to cry out from the contact. It felt like his lips were on fire but I fought against the need to pull away, fighting instead for the need to keep them there, to keep him with me. I tried to reach him with my thoughts, but the voice in my head refused to let anything out or in, trapping me inside of myself.
“Robert,” I breathed, my breath remarkably cool against his lips. “Robert, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me, please.”
“It’s not going to work,” Sam sneered as he grabbed me by my hair with uncaring fingers, pulling out clumps as he yanked me away. “He’s too far gone; just say goodbye."
"No, there's still time," I argued, grabbing at his hand to try to get him to let go though I struggled with my own hands that were too stiff and swollen to be of much use.
"Just accept it; you're too late little sister. You've failed, just like our mother. The only thing you can do is pray that I'm more merciful with you." His hand squeezed down on my skull, the pain nearly unendurable as he threw me back. I felt the impact of my body hitting the ground, but all I heard was the roar of anger and rage as Robert hurled himself at Sam, a battering ram of blackness and fury, crashing into the welcoming evil that was Sam's laughter.
I shook off the feeling of dizziness that assaulted me and stood on unsteady feet just in time to see Sam throw Robert off of him with a careless toss of his hands. Robert was too consumed by his rage to focus on his attack strategy--he was just attacking for the sake of doing so—and the consequences were obvious.
"No, Robert!" I screamed when I saw him take a blow to the chest that looked as though his entire torso would cave in.
Shut up, you meddlesome whore!
Sam's thoughts were a bullet that shot straight to the core of my mind, and I felt the ground against my cheek before I felt my knees giving out and sending me crashing down. My eyes remained open as I watched in fascinated horror as Robert, seeing me lying there, seeing the pain and anguish that littered my eyes and my face, slowed down his attack and stood for a brief moment, his wings sinking, pulling in, his face slack with misery as he took in what it was that Sam had done with a single thought.
My mind reached out to him, like a hand reaching to a falling star. The song that played in my head seemed to travel the distance between us, a bridge between our minds as what little claim I had left on his heart reached into him.
Without warning, Robert was behind a mocking Sam, his hands at the base of Sam's wings, and with an unceremonious shout of despair and guilt, he pulled.
I saw the look in Sam's face falter—no longer was he grinning like someone crazed. For a split second, I saw the fear, the genuine, palpable fear take a hold of him before the realization that he had lost set in. Robert's hands separated, and like a curtain being split to let in the bright glow of morning, Sam's back was torn open, releasing a blinding burst of light.
"You will still die…" Sam cried out in a distorted, almost metallic voice before the crack spread to his face, halving him.
With one final roar of anguish, Robert’s hands wrenched Sam in two, the resulting blast of unimaginable brightness sending him sailing into the sky and disappearing from my sight. I closed my eyes, but the golden ghost of what I had seen remained; there was no haven for me behind my closed lids as the halo that formed behind them haunted me. I struggled to focus when my eyes opened but even half blind, I could still see quite clearly that Robert was gone and that all that remained of Sam was the spiny frame that had once held his pristine, white wings.
"Grace, are you okay?" I turned my head to see Lark kneeling beside me, her hand resting gently on my shoulder as she bit back a gasp when she saw my dark limbs. "It's too soon," I heard her mumble before her eyes rose to meet my own.
"Too soon for what?"
"Nothing," she said quickly before falling over and clutching at her abdomen, a harsh, shrieking sound slipping past her clenched teeth. It was a cry of pain. Pain that only came from one source.
"You're lying to me,” I remarked.
"Grace, please…" she moaned while shaking her head.
"What's wrong with her?" Stacy asked, appearing so suddenly, I scrambled back and away from them.
"How'd you get here? How long have you been here?"
"How else do you think?" she replied, bending down to offer Lark a smooth hand for comfort. "What's going on with her? Why is she like this?"
"She's lying to me about something. If she doesn't tell the truth soon, the lie will kill her, and I don't think that she's going to be given a second chance like Robert."
"What are you keeping from Grace, Lark?" Stacy asked as she brushed a lock of hair out of the tormented angel's face.
"I can't say it," she groaned, and began to writhe on the ground in sheer agony. I had seen it before, watched it happen to her brother just before his heart stopped beating forever.
I didn’t understand why anyone would willingly go through that all for a lie. "Tell me the truth, Lark. You know what will happen if you don't, and what that will mean to Graham."
She looked at me with such anguish in her eyes, the pale silver nearly swallowing up their dark centers. "You'll hate me," came her whispered reply.
"When has how I felt ever stopped you from telling me anything?" I laughed coldly as my sides ached and burned, and my hands throbbed with unyielding pain.
"Please, Lark," Stacy pleaded. "We're your friends. Don't do this to yourself. I can't believe I'm saying this but, don't do this to Graham."
My head turned towards where I had said my goodbyes to my family, and I sighed with the immense feeling of relief that took over me when I saw that the parking lot now only contained one car. Mr. Branke's vehicle was still there, as were two lumps that, from where I lay, looked like two sleeping forms ready to wake at any moment and question why they were there. I had to fight off the grief and guilt I felt at the sight to appreciate the knowledge that at least Graham and my family were safe.
My gaze returned to Lark's and she could see my thoughts, know them and be as glad for them as I was. "After everything he's been through, he deserves to be happy," I murmured. "He deserves to have the life he wants. Tell me the truth so that you can do that for him. He didn’t go through all of this just to have you die because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings."
Her mouth opened, her eyes glazed over, but her lips closed and I saw the defeat in her take hold and she began to speak. "It’s your call, Grace. It’s the reason why you were born. You were born to die, because dying saves Robert. Every second spent ignoring your call pushes you closer and closer to the very same darkness that is destroying him. You are, for all intents and purposes, an Innominate, too."
"Wait, so Grace is part angel? Where the hell have I been? Oh yeah, that’s right. Dying."
Lark’s face was crunched in an anguished expression. "In a sense, yes."
"And you knew this, you knew all it this entire time and didn't tell her?"
Lark looked away, ashamed by the accusatory tone that stained Stacy's voice. "Yes."
In a move that was characteristically Stacy, she grunted and raised her hand, curling her fingers and pulling them into a ball against her palm. Stacy's fist slammed into the ground, sinking in as though she had dipped it into water, stopping at her elbow and causing her to fall forward and land on her chin, the sharp point carving its own niche into the soft grass and soil.
"Dammit," she cursed as she pulled herself up, dusting the dirt and stringy roots off of her arm and face. "I'm going to need to learn how to control this if I'm g
oing to get mad."
She glared at Lark, and the hurt and anger that built up inside of her began to tug at her brows, pulling them in, the frown on her face one that I had never seen before. She looked betrayed.
"I cannot believe that you'd do this. The whole time you were hating on Robert for what he knew about Sam, you were keeping this from Grace. Did Robert know about this, too?"
Lark shook her head, too full of guilt to speak. Stacy did it for her. "You knew and you kept it from both of them. My God, all the lives you risked, even Graham's! The guilt you put on Grace, the strain you put on your brother…I-I don't think I even know you. How could you do that to them? To the people you claim to care about?"
"You don't understand. This had to happen, I had no choice but to keep it from her. Grace had to do this, go through this and make these decisions on her own. My kind has no choice; we have no say in our own destiny. We simply do what we must because that’s the path that we must follow. Robert went against his path, which will lead him to his death and Grace's sole purpose for being born was to prevent that from happening.
“If Robert knew, he'd have never come back here, never have met Grace, but his call was going to come no matter what, as would hers because they both existed, and destiny doesn’t care where you are, or what you’re doing. Its demands can’t be avoided, and Robert and Grace would have both died for nothing."
"But I saw Robert's vision, the one your grandmother put into his mind about my life had we never met. Why would she see that if we were both going to die?" I asked, indignant all of a sudden.
"She didn’t see it; it was a false vision. He asked to see what would happen if he didn’t return; she showed him a lie. It was benign, and didn’t hurt anyone."
"It hurt me! How could you do this to me, to Robert?” I was nearly hysterical as the sound of my voice carried out into the emptiness and quiet around us though the loss of blood was starting to get to me.
"I did it to save him," she shouted back, angry and defensive. She stood, her dark hair slung over her shoulder in a thick braid, her clothes impeccably trendy and neat, not a single wrinkle or thread out of place. In effect, she was perfect.
And I tried to hate her, wanted to hate her, but I couldn't because as horrible as I thought she was for what she did, her reasons were justified. I had justified them myself when I had chosen to give myself up to Sam.
"So now what? Sam's dead. What do I do now?"
"I don't know," Lark murmured, her shoulders suddenly drooping as hopelessness crept over her. "Why didn’t he kill you when he had the chance?”
"He said that the plans had changed. His partner-"
"Partner?" Lark’s face of despair was instantly overshadowed now with concern and fear. "If Sam had a partner then that means that there's still a danger to your family no matter what happens to you. And Robert’s still raging. He won't know what he's doing. He’s a danger to everyone."
Her head whipped up and then back down in a flurry of silver and black, her face filled with panic. "Grace, run!" she shouted as she lunged forward, only to be knocked out of the way by a ball of gleaming ebony.
"R-Robert?" I heard my shaky voice ask as I stared at the creature hunched over Lark's body.
"Run, Grace," the muffled voice said again as Lark pushed herself off the ground, sending Robert sailing towards Stacy's terrified frame. Stacy lunged out of the way with an impossible speed, letting out an awed exclamation of "righteous" at her actions before turning to look at me with wide eyes. "Don’t just stand there staring! Run, Grace!"
I fought a mini war within me as I stared at the prone figure that glared at me through blackened eyes. I didn't care that for the first time he looked like Death. I loved him. I was willing to die for him if it meant that it would save him.
"But not this way, Grace!" Lark shouted before she slammed into her brother, pinning him down onto the grass. "If he kills you, he kills himself. You can't want that for him."
I didn't. I didn't want that for him. I gave one last look at him. My life. My love. And then I turned around and ran. There was only one place I could go, only one place I knew my life was forfeit without Robert beside me. Sam was gone, but there were other options. I ran as hard as I could, my sides and my legs aching, my strength sapping as my blood continued to leak out of me. My mouth opened once to cry out a name. It was my last chance to save Robert, and I knew of only one other person who wanted to help his much as I did.
"Bala!"
And I rushed towards the dark woods as it began to grow alive, my call heard, my desire welcomed.
LEAVING COURSE
It was as if my feet couldn't push forward fast enough. The first sign of trees and shrubbery was like a welcoming screen, their dark, evergreen boughs opening for me to enter and lose myself behind them. I was more than willing to do just that.
Without the aid of the parking lot lamps, or even the moon, the darkness in my wooded retreat was nearly suffocating, and it amplified the noises that erupted upon my intrusion of this black infested world. Shaking off the creeping foreboding within me, I pressed forward, allowing my feet to lead the way as fast as they could move. The stinging slashes of branches that hung down low, their greedy ends marking my arms and face, kept me alert to the danger that threatened me from where I'd entered. Though it did not distract me from the eerily swaying branches that rattled their leaves above and around me, the sound like thousands of little bones clanking together was a warning that I refused to heed.
I did not know how much time I had left before Robert overpowered his sister and came after me, but it wouldn't be long. He was stronger than Lark without the rage coursing through his veins; having such anger and energy boiling deep within him was like adding jet fuel to a forest fire and I feared that he might hurt her or worse. I needed to find Bala, needed her to help me end this before Robert did something he'd regret.
I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but the lack of light acted like a fog that clouded my vision, preventing me from adjusting my eyesight to my surroundings and its obstacles. I stumbled several times on the uneven surface of the forest floor, catching myself before I could tumble to the ground, thankful that, if nothing else, I at least wasn't as clumsy as I sometimes felt. I could feel the burning in my legs and arms as they expended and borrowed energy and strength that I did not possess in order to keep me moving, heading deeper and deeper into the dark unknown that lay endlessly ahead of me.
My sides burned as though fire was shooting out of the wounds that Sam had inflicted. But I could tell that the bleeding had slowed down some. My shirt clung to me, sticky and cold, and the smell of my blood, the rusty, metallic tang of it, seemed exaggerated in the chilly air, the scent acting like a siren call to the excited, the anxious, the hungry, and the curious as it traveled beyond the path I was leaving behind.
I shook off the concern I felt and pushed on. With each pounding thrust of my agitated and overspent heart, Robert's name echoed within my head, flowed through my veins, and singed my skin with memories that I had hoped would have made this part easier.
Instead it was worse. I could sense the greed inside of me grow, fighting the urge to do what I had been born to do. I didn't want to run away from Robert. I wanted to run towards him. I wanted to be with him. He was everything to me, and the song that played in my head was like some cruel joke, a slap in the face of everything that I felt, everything that I wanted.
Over the din of forest chaos, a chuckle burst from the shadows that were somehow darker than even this lightless world, and its malevolent sound forced me to clear my head. There was no time, no place for selfishness in this fight. I wasn't going to let the distraction of it steer me from what it was I had vowed to do. To keep Graham and my family safe, and to save Robert, I had to stay focused.
"Bala!" I cried out, but hearing nothing as the sound of my voice was quickly consumed by the growing excitement that reverberated around me. My hands reached out in front of me for reasons unknown and the
n I felt my foot catch in something, my body still propelling forward by my sprint.
The unmistakable snapping of both bone and branch echoed through the sudden silence that filled these dark woods as I fell to the ground, my outstretched hands catching me and preventing me from knocking myself out against the hard, rough surface of what felt like an upturned root. Of course, I landed with such tremendous speed that the force of it caused me to roll over, my back slamming against the knobby base of some ancient tree, its bark raining down on me in musty flakes.
"Ow," I groaned as I gingerly pushed myself up to a sitting position, using the tree that had acted as my brake to help keep me supported. The strange quiet that surrounded me was eerie. Not a single sound could be heard save for my rough breathing, and yet the lack of noise was itself almost deafening.
The mocking silence acted much like the chuckle that had startled me earlier and shook me from my roaming thoughts. I brushed aside the fear that began to crawl inside of me, not wanting it to take a hold of my heart. I knew it would only further hinder me if it did.
"Bala?" I called out,
My ankle felt like it was lost between freezing cold and scorching hot, and though I couldn’t see much, I could make out the faint white tip of something protruding from the side of my foot as it peeked out from the prison that two thin roots had formed around my quickly swelling ankle. “Please,” I cried out into the darkness, my lungs starting to constrict in my chest. “Don’t let him find me. I don’t care about me. I don’t care about what happens to me, but he can’t be the one to end it.”
A soft rumbling began beneath me and I felt the leaves and bark that had fallen atop of me begin to dance with the vibrations that shook the soil we sat upon. The roots that surrounded me began to unfurl, and I soon found my foot released, though I quickly regretted it when the slicing pain shot through my leg.
“Oh, dear bananas,” I groaned, grabbing onto my shin and gritting my teeth.