Becoming Calder

by Mia Sheridan

  I was dragged down the stairs, other people rushing behind me, and thrown back into the cell where I crumpled onto the floor. The world started fading and I fought to stay conscious. "Eden," I choked out weakly. "Eden." Then all went dark.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Eden

  The rain beat down on the roof as I was dragged, kicking and screaming, into the dim, already-crowded cellar. The fighting took all I had, but I had to get to Calder. He had looked half-dead when they dragged him away. I had to get to him. Hector held me firmly by my waist and his strength was too much for me to fight against. He had lost weight and looked gaunt and sickly, but his strength seemed to be that of a hundred men. Or perhaps it was just that I was utterly weakened, half-dead with terror and grief. They were going to burn him to death. Horror made me woozy and I sucked in a breath.

  When Hector brought his hand up to maneuver me to the corner of the cellar, I leaned sideways and bit it. Hard. He roared, the metallic taste of his blood filling my mouth. I spat it in his face.

  A look of rage passed over his expression before he pushed me harshly to two men to the side of us, worker men I didn't recognize.

  "Put her in the food storage closet," he said. "She'll still be here for our journey to Elysium," he said disgustedly. "Satan's cells are still draining out of you. He'll be gone by the time the gods come for us." And then Hector held up the small silver key to the main cellar door and swallowed it, his eyes crazed.

  I sobbed, and pushed at one of the men, but he didn't budge. They walked me easily the short distance to the small room where food was usually stored, pushed me inside, slamming the door behind me. I heard something heavy being pushed in front of it. I banged and banged on it, but the door was thick, whatever had been put in front of the door provided more of a sound barrier, and the rain was pounding on the roof. I was weak. And no one would save me anyway.

  There was barely enough light coming in from under the door to see the room. It was mostly in dim shadow. I could see the empty shelves, no food on them now, and just up to the ceiling. It was slightly higher in here as it sat under a part of the main lodge, whereas the other parts of the cellar had only ground on top. There were no windows, no way out. I slid down to the floor and rolled in a ball. I cried. Hopeless. Calder might already be dead, or at the very least, dying. There was nothing left. Nothing left to hope for.

  Perhaps I slept, or perhaps I faded in and out of consciousness again. I lost time as the rain continued to pound all around me, or so it seemed. I was still drenched and I was shivering. Dreams drifted through my mind, misty, half-formed. I saw Calder swimming in the water at our spring, a gentle smile on his face. Suddenly the water was fire, engulfing him, and he screamed and was pulled under, into the flames, to the depths of some place I couldn't fathom. He was lost to me as I screamed and tried to reach for him, my own arms blistering and turning black as I plunged them into the fire. I startled awake, the scream still on my lips. There was a puddle of water beneath me and I heard the cries of people outside the door.

  I bolted upright and pulled myself up, and fell against the wall as all the blood rushed to my head. I took deep breaths and put my ear to the wall. It sounded like water was rushing in from somewhere and when I looked down at my feet, the puddle was growing bigger, water flowing in from under the door. My heart felt like it stopped. Seconds later, it picked up an erratic beat in my chest. My blood ran cold and I swayed.

  The foretelling was coming true.

  As the water rushed in faster to where I stood, people's cries increased in volume on the other side of the wall. I heard Hector preaching loudly and someone else, a male voice, yelled to give them the key. There was scuffling, more screaming, and then Hector's voice rose again. I only caught portions, only a few of the words through the wall. "No fear . . . The gods . . . Destiny . . ." I would die with the rest of them. The room was quickly filling with water and there was no escape. A strange feeling of acceptance filled my body—a strange peace I could only imagine was the realization there was no way out of this situation. I leaned back against the wall and tried to shut out the sounds of the screams, the crying children, the deep yells of the men. The wails of the innocents. Somewhere out there, Calder was among them.

  "One times one is one," I said. "One times two is two . . ." By the time I'd gotten to nine times nine, the water was up to my shoulders. I closed my eyes and thought about the many things Calder had taught me down at our spring, the least of which was academics. I did division in my head as the water rose to my chin. I climbed to the highest shelf in the room, which brought my head about six feet from the ceiling. This was where it would end. I wondered what Elysium would look like. Would I immediately wake up there? Or would there be a journey? What was Calder doing now? Had the water swallowed him yet? Was he already waiting for me by that spring? "I'm coming, my love," I whispered. "I'll be there soon."

  When the water got to my chin once again, the light from under the door went out, and the screams turned to sobs and whispers and . . . sputtering death. I sobbed quietly until my own heartbeat thudding in my chest lulled me into some sort of hollow calm. It was utterly dark and silent now except for the sound of the rain, still beating down. Was the whole world underwater? Were the penguins floating? Watching as the skies darkened and the planet became one vast, unending ocean? The water rose over my nose and I closed my eyes.

  Can I teach you an even better way not to expend energy in the water?

  My eyes snapped open. I swore I had heard his voice whisper in my ear.

  I let the water take my body with it as it rose higher in the room. Take a big breath and then let yourself float so that the back of your head is just above the water. Just let the water support you. Then, when I touch your arms, let them float toward the surface with your elbows bent. Have you got it so far?

  Yes, yes, I remember.

  I floated to the top of the water and did what I had been taught to do once upon a time, under the sunshine, in the water of a spring where I had fallen in love with the most beautiful boy in the world. And where he had loved me back.

  . . . you never know when a small piece of knowledge is going to come in handy or maybe . . . maybe even change your life.

  I floated there, just like that, until I realized the water had stopped rising. I felt above me to find there was about three inches of air at the top of that taller ceiling, three inches that kept me alive. The rest of the cellar would have been completely underwater about a half an hour before, when the screams had stopped. They were all dead. All except me—the only one they'd wanted to take with them.

  Be strong, Morning Glory. I'll wait for you, but I hope I'm waiting for a long time.

  Fierce longing assaulted me. It would be so easy to let myself sink to the floor and suck in a big, lungful of water. But what if the sin of taking my own life took me somewhere else? What if that was the thing that separated me from Calder forever? He wouldn't be alone. Our baby would be with him. He'd learn of her existence there. He'd know her right away. He'd teach her how to swim in the spring. He'd teach her to be brave. He'd teach her what love felt like. Just like he'd once taught me.

  I'd heard it said that when you die, your life flashes in front of your eyes, every moment of it. But for me, there was only Calder. There was only him. Because he was my life. I saw his laughter as I turned toward him at our spring. I saw us lying together under the stars. I saw Calder's fierce expression as he took my face in his hands and put his lips to mine. I saw pleasure wash over his features as he made love to me. I saw his sudden grin, like sunshine, as the shower water washed down over his head. Every blissful moment with him floated through my mind in vivid detail. I closed my eyes and I lived in each moment, letting them cradle me, comfort me, bring me peace.

  And I floated. All through that cold, dark, pitch-black night, the now softly falling rain was the only sound around me. I floated and I lived. And at some point, the water began to recede and the top of the shelf
hit my foot. I stood on it, half awake, half in a place deep within my mind where I had gone as I floated, in shock, in disbelief, in unspeakable grief.

  **********

  The water receded slowly and by the time I was standing back on the floor, it seemed like hours had gone by. I felt along the wall and when I came to the door, I pushed against it and wedged it open just a fraction. Whatever had been put in front of it must have floated up in the water and come back down a little bit away from where it had been. With the small crack in the door, I was able to wedge my body into it and push enough to squeeze through. The water on the other side was still up to my thighs. I stood there, panting from the exertion of wedging the door open, trying to focus my eyes in the very, very dim light just coming under the door that led outside.

  Morning had broken.

  The room came into focus as I blinked and brought my hand up to my mouth, horror sweeping through my body. Bodies floated everywhere. Men, women, and little children. Hailey's little boy, Myles, floated by and I turned my head and sobbed silently, covering my face.

  And that's when I heard it, a splintering followed by the deep groan of wood giving way. A portion of the ceiling crashed down on the other side of the room, right by the door, the light of a golden morning sky streaming in like the arrival of a thousand angels. I didn't have time to scream. I only reacted, wading through the bodies, pushing them aside as I moved through the water, toward that heavenly light. Another loud wood groan, and then another portion of the ceiling fell in, slamming down next to me, crushing the bodies that had been floating there. I looked to my right and Hector's face rose up from the water, bloated, tinged purple, with a look on his face that was serene, peaceful. A deep rage gripped me. "You did this," I whispered hatefully, not knowing if I had actually spoken aloud. "You did all of this." His expression remained tranquil, his body bobbing in the water. There was nothing I could do to punish him, nothing I could do to exact revenge. I sobbed into my hands and moved past him. I made it to the place where the ceiling had crashed in a minute before and climbed up the pieces of broken wood and fallen concrete, until I could grab onto a still-intact piece of the roof and pull myself up. I fell on the ground, panting and sobbing. When I heard another loud creak, I pulled myself up and dragged myself as far away from the cellar roof as possible.

  A minute later, the entire roof collapsed in one loud, violent crash that brought the entire weight of the ceiling and the ground above it down on the bodies below. Beneath the wreckage was still a low lake of water. I fell to my knees and bawled. If I had had any hope Calder was alive, I knew there was no hope now. Deep inside of me, I felt my soul curl up and quietly die. My body was thoroughly spent and my heart broken into a million tiny shards of utter desolation. I lay looking at the ground numbly, clutching a handful of mud and watching as I squeezed it through my fingers, again and again and again. All feeling seemed to drain out of my body, leaving only hollowness and a heavy, black grief just under the surface.

  Finally, I sat up slowly, looking around in detached interest. A flock of birds flew across the sky and I could hear the animals in our fields making their animal sounds. Far up above, a plane flew by as I shielded my eyes and looked up into the bright sky. The whole world hadn't been washed away. Only Hector's people, all except one. All except me.

  I stood up on shaky legs and walked up to the main lodge, lifting one foot and then the other. There, I stripped my blood and dirt-stained clothes off as if in a trance, and dropped them in the garbage. I changed into a clean skirt and shirt and washed the grime off my face and arms in the sink. I refused to look in the mirror. I was dead and I couldn't take looking at another dead face right then.

  I went back to my room and took out the pressed morning glories wrapped in a plastic bag and put them in my pocket. I found the small pebble in my desk drawer and put that in my pocket, too. If Hector had found these at some point, he didn't know what they meant.

  Hector's room was next. I rooted through his drawers, feeling nothing. The last time I'd done this, I'd been filled with nerves, waiting to get caught.

  There was some money, but I didn't count it, just stuffed it in my pocket. In another drawer there was the locket portion of a necklace. I hadn't seen this the first time I'd gone through these drawers. I picked it up and studied it, something about it making my dead heart pick up a rhythm. I recognized this. I had worn it once upon a time. I turned it over in my hand. On the back was the name of a jeweler, and the city, Cincinnati, Ohio. I opened it, but there were no pictures inside.

  I stuck the locket in my pocket, too, and I walked downstairs. I did a brief search of the council members' rooms, but found nothing of any value. Maybe they discovered my thievery after I'd escaped and removed or hidden their money and jewelry. I left the main lodge. I didn't look back.

  I remember some of the walking, but not all. I'd made the same trip before, only that time with two brave boys. This time I was alone. When cars passed on the road, I moved behind rocks as we'd done before. I collapsed behind one as morning became afternoon and I slept. When I woke, it was evening.

  At some point I stopped at the same house we'd stopped at before for water and I drank from the hose and stole clothes from their clothesline, a pair of women's jeans, a long-sleeved, white T-shirt, and a lightweight jacket. Again, the dog barked and pulled from his rope, but I ignored him. No one came to the door with a shotgun this time. I wondered if I was disappointed. My body was alive, but my soul was too distraught to care.

  Somewhere inside a voice whispered, you survived, and now you have to live. I didn't know whose it was, certainly not my own.

  It was morning again by the time I made it to the city. I wandered the streets for a long time, trying blankly to spot something familiar. Somewhere, Xander was here, but I didn't know where, and I didn't know how to find out. Kristi would have moved by now and Calder had told Xander to meet him somewhere, but I didn't know where. Kristi had said she knew people who might help us. I had to believe Xander was safe somewhere. I had to.

  A police car drove by on the street and I started breathing raggedly, pulling myself into a doorway and pressing up against the wall until it had passed. Clive was still out there.

  I wandered for a little while more until I saw a sign for the bus station. I looked bleakly at it and went inside where I asked how much it would cost for a ticket to Cincinnati. I couldn't think of one other thing to do, not that I could think very clearly at all. I had just enough money, so I bought a ticket, and sat in a plastic bus station chair, staring at the wall. Finally, I reached in my pocket and pulled out the locket, the only thing I had of any value, the only thing that might bring me safety. I studied it, turning it over and over, wondering if it could lead me to someone who would care about me. I sucked back a sob.

  I boarded the bus for Ohio half an hour later. I sat in a seat by a window and closed my eyes. And again, I slept. It was the only thing that didn't hurt.

  EPILOGUE

  Calder

  I was in Elysium. The light was golden and the air was warm and I had a spring to find. Only there wasn't supposed to be so much pain in Elysium. If I was in paradise, why was every part of my body crying out in agony? And why did it smell like death? I swallowed down the vomit trying to make its way up my throat.

  "I've gotta grab your arm," I heard Xander say. And I screamed. "I'm sorry, brother. So damn sorry." Why was he crying? There weren't supposed to be any tears in Elysium either.

  "I have to find the spring," I said. Only it came out, "Hash tofin the spr." My face didn't seem to want to move.

  "Shh," I heard Xander say. "Don't talk. I've got you. You knew I'd come back for you, right?" He choked back what sounded like a sob. "I'm so sorry I was too late."

  "Hash tofin the spr," I repeated, trying to make him understand.

  Loud things were crashing around me and I felt more warmth on my skin, the light suddenly brighter.

  "This is going to hurt. I'm so sorry, brother,
" Xander choked out once more, but I didn't understand why.

  Then agonizing pain flooded my body as I screamed again, feeling myself being lifted upward. The world blinked out.

  To Be Continued in Finding Eden, Available Now

  Acknowledgements

  It takes many people to complete a book and I am so blessed to have the very best on my team. Special, special thanks from the bottom of my heart to my storyline editors: Angela Smith who not only talked story arrangement with me to the point of exhaustion, but provided wine and emotional support often and tirelessly, and Larissa Kahle, who spends what little free time she has helping me to ramp up the emotions of my story and perfect the character development. Thank you to my developmental and line editor, Marion Archer. She is new to my process, but I'll never write a book without her again—never. Her expertise and enthusiasm—not to mention the little notes she wrote in the margin of my manuscript that made me laugh and swoon—not only taught me things, but made my story richer and full of more depth. And to Karen Lawson whose bionic eyes perfected my manuscript even further.

  I am also lucky enough to have an incredible group of beta readers who provided invaluable feedback on Calder and Eden's story, and cheer leaded for me when I needed it most; Cat Bracht, Elena Eckmeyer, Michelle Finkle, Natasha Gentile, Karin Hoffpauir Klein, Nikki Larazo, and Kim Parr. And to my author beta, A.L. Jackson, who read the first draft of my manuscript, when it was just three hundred pages of my ramblings and before I'd even spell checked it. Her feedback and assurances gave me the courage to continue on.

  Thank you as well to my wonderful sprinting partner, Jessica Prince. Many of these words would not have been written if not for her diligent nine a.m. texts that generally included one word: sprint?