Transcending the Legacy

by Venessa Kimball

  Looking back at me, Daniel responds, “They haven’t had a reason to, until now.”

  The truck lurches forward again, jolting me lose from the rod as it picks up more speed. I’m able to rebound quickly, but Corinna screams as she tumbles backward down the middle aisle of the truck.

  Sam yells for her, “Corinna!”

  She is heading straight for the rear doors and the force of her body could unbind them!

  I yell, “No, grab her!” I reach for her just as Siobhan and Xander do. Each of us have one hand gripping the rod behind us and the other holding onto her.

  When Corinna gets her footing on the floor of the truck, Siobhan looks at Xander and me, “You got her?” We nod in unison and Siobhan releases her sending her body to our side of the truck. Xander and I hastily pull her onto the vacant seat between us. Greedily, she takes hold of the rod behind her, wrapping her arm around it while clutching it with the other hand.

  Once Corinna is secured to the rod, we all begin latching the safety belts we didn’t acknowledge as necessary from the get go.

  I notice the pounding is slowing and I look out the windows fervently, searching for Dwellers that have not given up chase or may have attacked Briggs and his men in the truck behind us.

  My search is disrupted by the familiar scraping noise coming from the front of the cab. The small, metal panel slides open again and the two dark eyes peer through again. “Safety belts, dolls! Safety first! That is warp speed, boys and girls! Wooooohoooo!” The soldier’s eyes disappear from the opening and he leaves the panel to the front cab open. The other soldier is hooping and hollering as well.

  I’m relieved to see the soldier’s face, but at the same time disturbed by their reactions. How can they be calm about all this, treating it like a rewarding game of chase? I take into consideration what they have been through as a troop back in the compound and realize that they have become accustom to the Dwellers invading and infesting. Briggs and his men had been attacked repeatedly at the compound. They have become callous to experiences like this one we just encountered.

  Nick yells out, “You are crazy!”

  The soldiers continue their banter, yelling and chuckling as we rock side to side in our seats.

  I did not notice until now, but my heart is hammering against my windpipe with pure adrenaline and fear. I look back behind us out the rear window and watch the Dwellers fall away from Briggs’ truck about fifty yards behind us. They stumble and roll away from the truck, but rebound quickly and continue their raged hunt. They are fast, but not fast enough to keep up with the trucks’ rate of speed. Even though we are getting further and further away from them, it doesn’t affect their purpose. They continue to run. Continue their steadfast pursuit.

  I watch as they disappear into the dust kicked up from the trucks and I remember Briggs’ words, “They can smell you a mile away.”

  * * *

  I’m staring out of the unbreakable glass at the blurred world as we continue our high speed escape, when I feel Corinna shift away from me and another take her place.

  “Did you feel the vibrations?”

  I pull my forehead from the window and look at Xander squarely. His question is bothersome because I had not openly talked with him about the strange warning system I had developed in regards to attacking enemies; the vibrations, the humming, and the nausea. I look away from him out the window, avoiding his weighty stare. “What do you know about them?”

  He doesn’t answer. I look at him to see what has silenced him. He is looking down at the floor of the cab. “I learned about them a while back through your thoughts before we went beyond the veil. Your attackers make the vibration within you increase and you feel sick when they are close by, right?”

  I don’t hesitate, “Yes.”

  Urgently he asks, “Since I can’t read your thoughts now, I need to know if you are feeling the vibrations?”

  “You mean right now?” I ask.

  Xander keeps his eyes trained on me as he nods. “Yes, do you feel it right now?”

  I look through the glass of every widow panel on the truck, searching for Dwellers among the fast moving world beyond this truck. I don’t feel the pang of queasiness at the moment, it has faded. The vibration is very low, barely a humming rumble in the center of my abdomen.

  “I can feel the vibration slightly. Why?”

  Xander looks over his shoulder toward Nate and he breaks his silence, “We just want to make sure you are safe, Jes.”

  Ezra speaks up from behind me. “We all do,” says Ezra from behind me and I wind around to look at him. He continues, “That is our only warning before they attack, Jes.”

  I shake my head, “I will let you know when I feel it.”

  Avoiding the uncomfortable stares boring into me from Nate, Xander, and Ezra, I lean my forehead against the window panel and look fixedly at the fleeting landscape outside.

  Minutes seem like hours as I grip the metal rod behind me, bouncing back and forth from the high speed we are maintaining. I wonder how fast we are actually going. The world beyond the glass continues to soar past, obscuring the trees, the quick glimpses of buildings, the signs. I pinch my eyes closed, dizzy from trying to focus on pieces of the world out there. I pull away from the glass and look at the guardians on the bench across from me. Sebastian has his eyes closed. Siobhan and Jake are staring down at the ground rocking side to side in unison, deep in thought.

  Elisha’s eyes are closed and she is resting her head on Nick’s shoulder still consciously gripping the rod behind her. Monica is looking out the window much like I was earlier; head leaning against the metallic glass.

  She is sitting next to Sam with her back to him and he is grasping the rod with one hand while the other is scratching the side of his head. I wonder what he is thinking. I look back at Monica and the way her body is turned from him. Some of the team still does not fully trust him.

  The truck suddenly downshifts and slows significantly. It’s still going fast, but slow enough for us to release our grip on the metal rod if we wanted to. The soldier driving yells back at us, “We will keep this pace now. Briggs’ orders.” Without another word, the soldier shuts the small, sliding panel.

  I stretch my fingers out splaying them wide, then tighten them into fists to get the blood flowing again. Corinna rises from her seat next to Xander and carefully maneuvers the short distance across the floor of the truck to sit next to Sam again. After Corinna buckles in, their hands intertwine. I can’t see Corinna’s eyes, but I can see Sam’s and how they reflect the agony and guilt he is still holding onto internally.

  Ezra places his hand on my knee, pats it once, then unbuckles his own safety belt and rises from his seat.

  “What are you doing?” I ask urgently.

  Ezra doesn’t answer, just moves across the aisle toward Sam and Corinna. Oh no, what is he up to? I look at Monica with warning to watch Ezra and be ready to react. She nods at me and starts to stand herself to stop him from advancing. Ezra puts his hand up to stop her from intruding and she slowly sits back down, but keeps her eyes on his every move just as I am. I look around the cab and notice everyone is watching him vigilantly as he slides into the seat next to Monica and Sam. I immediately notice Corinna tightening her fingers around Sam’s hand, the white on her knuckles showing. Ezra makes a move toward Sam, stretching his hand out toward Sam’s head. Fearing the worst, I’m surprised when Ezra’s hand makes contact with the metal rod behind his head.

  Corinna and Sam are both visibly stunned as they watch Ezra sit next to them casually gazing out the window in front of him. When Ezra shifts and turns his body to face Sam, I feel my heart pick up pace again. Ezra slowly extends his other hand and holds it mid air with the clear intent of shaking Sam’s hand. I can’t see Sam’s reaction, but Ezra’s eyes reveal the pain and sorrow this gesture is stirring within him as his hand remains firmly outstretched waiting for Sam to receive it.

  Sam unwinds his fingers from Corinna’s and ca
utiously extends it to meet my father’s.

  “My wife...” Ezra’s voice hitches on the words and he pauses to re-collect his emotions. He breathes out shakily as he starts again, “My wife forgave you beyond the veil, Sam. Her beautiful, free soul forgave you.” Ezra looks at me briefly then back at Sam. “Jesca forgave you as well. It is my turn.”

  Sam bows his head, appearing conscience-stricken. “I am not worthy of your forgiveness, Ezra Kahn.”

  Unexpectedly, a tear drops from Ezra’s eye. “You are worthy, Sam.”

  I close my now gaping mouth and glance at Xander for his reaction to what I am seeing. He is watching Ezra and Sam with a visible sense of pride on his face. I look around the cab and each guardian’s face carries a similar sentiment as they watch my father make peace and dissolve any animosity and grief that Sam and he held in their hearts for each other.

  Sam covers my father’s and his hand with his other and says with a weak and quivering voice, “In my eyes I am not redeemable. But, I will fight to atone for all of those lives... all of those souls that he made me...” His voice becomes so heavy with remorse, he breathes in deeply and stills.

  Ezra leans in toward him and says, “We need you in this fight, Sam.” Then he looks at Corinna. “Both of you. You are one of us now.”

  “Thank you, Ezra,” says Corinna timidly.

  Ezra pats Sam on the back, releases his hand, and makes his way back toward my side of the bench. He releases a deep sigh as he sits down heavily and latches his safety strap. The knot in my throat is threatening any words I might say, but I want to acknowledge what he has done. How he has tried to clear the air for Sam and Corinna in front of all the guardians.

  I clear my throat before I speak. “Wow, dad, that was…something.”

  Ezra and I both sit back in our seats and look at each other out of the corner of our eyes at the same time. His eyes are no longer glassy, but damp under the rims. Reacting to his visible emotions, I feel one tear fall from my own eye. I wipe it away on my sleeve then look at him again. His smile is small, but content with what he has done.

  “Wasn’t it though daughter,” he says modestly.

  Breaking our typical and unconventional flow of conversation, I lean closer to him and ask, “Why now?”

  Ezra’s face shifts from the impish disposition that had been masking his emotions to the sober manner revealing his true intentions. “My forgiveness has multiple purposes, Jes.”

  I nod understanding that his forgiveness was not selfish and it had intention. Him forgiving Sam in front of all the other guardians, showing compassion for a man seeking atonement, reflected in each of the guardians eyes at that moment. They forgave through Ezra’s forgiveness in a way. Ezra leans his head back against the window panel and shuts his eyes. I continue to watch my father in awe of what he had just given Sam; redemption and the will to carry on and fight for something greater beyond the murders he committed.

  * * *

  I don’t know how long we have been traveling. It seems like it has been hours. Now that the truck had slowed to a speed that would allow me to see the world around us beyond a flurry of speed, I was able to see the changes that occurred while we were beyond the veil. The sun is losing the luster it had when we first left the compound. A thin layer of grey mist has blanketed the sky. It isn’t like normal clouding over cast of a dim day. It’s like a film hovering above us just below the stratosphere.

  “The clouds have thinned because of the shift in elements. All the levels are skewed,” Monica calls out to no one in particular.

  “This is how it looks before rain,” says Daniel.

  I look down my side of the truck at Daniel who is leaning his head against the window staring at the metal roof of the truck. The pitter patter of rain starts its dance on the roof.

  He shakes his head and says, “Thank God it is still water; one of the elemental combinations that remained undisturbed.”

  The lush, thick tree cover is beginning to thin out and the dirt road we took when we left Brigg’s compound is now asphalt.

  “We are on a paved road.”

  The metal sliding panel opens again and a voice calls from the front cabin. “This road will take us north west of the Appalachian Mountains.”

  The Appalachian Mountains? We couldn’t have covered that many miles that quickly!

  Watching my reaction, Daniel interjects, “The speed has thrown you off. It’s the Nitrous Oxide; NOS.”

  There is that word again, the one I heard one of Briggs’ soldiers mention; NOS.

  Daniel continues, “With it pumping through these cargo trucks, what would have taken at least a full day has taken us less than half.”

  Looking out amongst the new landscape; I notice the white paneling of a house hidden behind a cluster of trees and tall, overgrown grass. Then, another house comes into view. This one is blue paneled with a chain-link fence surrounding the front yard. Overgrowth intertwines in the links, sending creeping leaves up skyward about four feet. Again, the grass is unkempt and tall enough to partially hide the steps leading to the front door. These houses were either abandon by their owners when the Dwellers attacked, or the Dwellers occupied them now, which really set my adrenaline pumping. The landscape changes from houses to small buildings, a sign for the post office and a convenient store. We must be in a small town. Deserted cars line both sides of the road and it is evident by the looks of some of them that their owners escaped from them abruptly with some of the doors still ajar.

  All of a sudden, the truck jolts and downshifts slowing, slowing, slowing. As we crawl along, I see them at the far end of an alley; Dweller occupied humans; eye sockets black as night and red, bulging veins splayed from their lids. There are about six of them jerking and twitching unnaturally fast toward us.

  I yell, “Go! Dwellers! They are coming!”

  The six quickly multiplies, a mass of Dweller humans scrambling through the alley heading straight for the side of our truck.

  All the other guardians start yelling and screaming at the driver just as the first wave of Dwellers rams into the truck, setting the truck off kilter before rocking back to the ground.

  The second wave is fast approaching as the truck lurches forward, accelerating and pulling away from the rapid mass of hunters. One of the male Dwellers hits the side of the truck, then falls to the ground. Rolling into the fall, it jumps right up and attempts to attack again, but we are breaking away from them now. They get smaller and smaller, but keep running.

  With all of us on edge, we are startled when the truck decreases speed again. Our bodies shift around in the cab as the truck turns to the left. We are jostled again when the ground below us changes to gravel and rocky earth from concrete road. The trees become thick and tightly woven around the truck as we move on.

  I think nothing of it until Daniel makes a comment, “This is not the route.”

  “What?” I ask urgently.

  Daniel ignores my question, as he pounds on the front panel of the truck. “Hey! This isn’t the route! Stop!”

  No response.

  Swiftly, the truck thrusts forward once more before coming to a stop.

  With the engine still running, I hear one door opens, then the other, but nothing else. No doors being slammed shut. No voices yelling over the engine. We all glance at each other before we simultaneously undo our safety belts.

  Xander is the first to walk to the back of the truck. “We should get out,” he says.

  Just as Xander reaches for the door, Nate lunges at him taking hold of his hand and bellows, “No, don’t!”

  Monica walks toward the back of the truck. Nate and Xander step to the side as Monica peers through the windows on the rear doors. “Briggs’ should have been right behind us,” she says reaching around and under her jacket to pull out her handgun.

  Sam speaks up, “One gun isn’t going to do anything. We need more ammunition if we are going to hold anything that may attack us out there. ”

  Monica
hands the gun she has to Xander then stalks away from the doors, pulls a duffle bag out from under her seat, and fans it open. Keeping her eyes trained on Sam, she says, “We have more than one gun.”

  Systematically she puts a clip in one of the handguns she lifts from the bag. She flips the safety and tosses it to Nate. Unprepared for the toss, he juggles it before clasping it with two hands. Monica moves on, assembling another clip and gun, then passing it to another guardian. “We don’t have enough for all of us,” she says.

  Nate calls out, “Um, I’ll pass.” He looks at Xander uneasily and hands the gun to him. Xander passes the gun to Nick.

  Why would Nate pass up the defense of a gun?

  Nick holds it in his hand. “Nate, man, you are a better shot than I am.”

  Nate doesn’t answer him. He just clenches and releases his hands anxiously.

  Why is he anxious?

  Nate looks at me, then down at his own flexed hands realizing I have seen his anxious act.

  “What is wrong, Nate?” The question comes out louder than I expected.

  Obviously not expecting my question, Nate stumbles over his words, “Oh, um.” He wrings his hands together, then glances at Xander as he tucks his hands in his pockets. “My hands are just a little shaky that’s all.”

  Sam cocks his gun to chamber the first bullet, drawing the entire trucks attention to him. “You sure that’s it, Nate?” he questions.

  Defensively, I ask Sam curtly, “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Sam shakes his head and raises his hands in surrender, “Just concerned, Jesca, that is all.”

  Monica continues pairing guns with ammunition clips and passes them out while the rest of the guardians watch and wait for a weapon oblivious to the exchange between Sam and I.

  I look back at Xander and Nate. The way they are scrutinizing each other silently, I know they are keeping something from us and it burns me up. I move in closer to them, pull one of Nate’s hand from his pocket, and hold it between mine. Clammy and shaking, I hold it tighter and ask, “Why are you trembling?”