by Erik Hyrkas
“If you go get caught without a halo, they might just kill you,” he said.
“That’s not how they work,” Brit said. “They like to create a huge show out of making people miserable. They want to keep everybody in line. It isn’t entirely working though. There are fallen enkelis who have escaped.”
“Where are they?” Hunter asked.
“Well, most of them were recaptured and are being tortured,” Brit said. “But one of them is still hiding in that cave, but with time, more will probably rebel as well.”
“And you think, after they make an example of these fallen enkelis, more are going to immediately fight back?” Hunter asked. “Going to solitary is stupid, and without your halo, you’ll starve to death if they don’t outright execute you,” Hunter said.
“Even though the halo isn’t attached to me, it still works if I hold it,” she said. “I’m more worried about Marcy who doesn’t have one. If I’m gone, she won’t be able to share mine.”
“You need to let Jax go. He’s fucking dead,” Hunter said.
Brit slammed a finger in his chest. “I’ll let go when I’ve seen his dead body. Help Marcy.”
She gave her halo to Marcy and turned. Brit didn’t look back at either of them as she stormed down the mineshaft toward the elevator. Using the chisel, she knocked a fresh light off the mine wall and tucked the half-globe into her pocket, then carefully tucked the power chisel into her pant leg so it ran along the side of her thigh. Having lost a little weight since arriving, although it fit snuggly she did not feel any discomfort. After buttoning her pants, she marched to the elevator and rose to the surface.
If any of the slaves thought it was odd that she didn’t have a bin of vaalia, a power chisel, or a halo, none of them gave her a second glance until she bolted away from the entrance toward the other mine fifty yards away. Brit didn’t look back, but she saw that all of the fallen in front of her were gawking.
“I’m looking for a human man. Have you seen him?” she asked between labored breaths when she reached the other set of platforms in front of the other mine.
The slaves around her were murmuring, but none answered her.
She growled. “Have you seen a human named Jax?”
The slaves seemed to realize they were standing around, and as if somebody had reminded them, they all went back to work and completely ignored her.
She ran into the unfamiliar mine, wondering how much time she had before a guard arrived to apprehend her. She called out Jax’s name as she ran.
This mine was similar to the one in which she had been working in that it had the same half-globes lighting the walls and the same type of elevator going down. She tried to stick to the heavily populated areas, thinking that maybe that would give her the best chance of finding Jax.
As she was passing a deserted passage, she saw a small V etched in the floor, the bottom of the V facing her. She had seen this V before, and a thrill shot through her. She ran down the passage and found that the lights had been knocked from the wall.
As she searched for some hidden opening, a voice from behind her said, “Don’t move.”
She held still and waited. A few slow footsteps from behind her made her heart sink. Brit had always intended to get caught, but now that she was about to go to solitary, the thought was much scarier. She was afraid that her plan wouldn’t work and that she would never escape.
A heavy hand rested on her shoulder. “Come with me,” the voice said.
She turned and saw the face of an unknown enkeli. He was dressed in the standard gold and black suit that she was accustomed to seeing. There was no reason to resist, and so she nodded and followed him.
He led her back through the mine to the surface, and they used the platform together and arrived back in the city where he led her to the building she knew housed those slaves punished in solitary. As she passed the statue of the crucified man, she wondered how he had been so lucky to die as his punishment.
The guard held the door to her new eternal cell, a square room about eight feet across. On the ceiling was a small half-globe, which she knew would light up roughly every ten minutes and broadcast an image of her for other slaves to see her punishment.
She sat down on the hard white floor and watched the door close. She sat as still as she could in the perfect dark, the only sound her own breathing, waiting for light to come, if only for a few seconds.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The seconds stretched on, and Brit realized that part of the torture was in waiting for the light that only came after your eyes had adjusted to the dark. When the room finally lit up, she smiled at it and gave a friendly wave. The moment the light went out, she pulled her own light from her pocket, turned it on, then unbuttoned her pants and pulled out the power chisel.
She didn’t want to get caught holding them when the light came back on, and so after getting her tools arranged, she sat back down in the same place she had been sitting, holding her halo in the dark and waiting for the next time the light came on.
When the light came on, she smiled and waved with one hand while keeping her other hand clasped against her thigh so the half-globe she had used for light was hidden.
The moment the light went out, signifying that she was no longer being shown on the video feed, she turned her own light on and began working on carving a message into the wall with the mining pick. She knew she only had minutes to do it, and when the light came back on, the guards were sure to come to take away her chisel.
There was a faint name drawn on the wall in blood. She was careful not to rub it, not because she was afraid of the blood but because it was a name that somebody wanted remembered. The name was Molly, and she wondered who had placed that name there. Clearly, she was somebody’s loved one who had died there. There were no female enkeli, so this Molly was human.
The white wall was not as easy to carve as stone, and she was running out of time as she frantically etched her message. Each letter took far longer than she had expected, and they were more crude that she had hoped.
She managed to sit down with her tools hidden and smile upward as the light came back on, illuminating her and, hopefully, her message, which read:
I LOVE YOU JAX
Below the crudely carved message she had edged an arrow that was exactly like the arrows she had used in the cave to find her way back to her mine. She hoped that, if Jax ever found the cave, which she knew was highly unlikely, he could use those arrows to find Marcy and Hunter. If he didn’t, as long as he was walking through the cycle, there was a chance he’d see her and see her message and this was all she wanted any more. Escape was not something she hoped for, and this would be her last act of freedom: expressing herself and defying the will of her captors.
The light went off after a few seconds, and she turned her own light back on and waited for a guard to come running in. Time passed and she wondered if anybody had noticed her message. She turned off her light, waited a minute, and then when the light came back on, she resumed her smile.
Without her halo, she had nothing to sustain her. She was hungry but not yet starving, thirsty but not yet parched. It would take days of no water to die this way.
She needed a distraction, something to keep her mind off the hunger and thirst. So she began etching new messages in the wall between each outage, simple messages like “freedom is taken,” “spread love,” and “give happiness.” These messages were idealistic, unrealistic, and hopefully poetic. Brit felt better chiseling them into the wall than writing all the things she hated about the Lord who had them enslaved and the enkelis who enforced that slavery.
She left a clear space around her first message when she wrote each new message, and eventually that space took the shape of a heart. Maybe it seemed juvenile, like something her twelve-year-old self might have done, but she didn’t care. This was her final act of rebellion and self-expression, and she wanted as many people to know as she could reach that she loved Jax in the hope that someday he
might hear of what she had done.
Eventually, she was too tired to write more, and so she slept on the floor with her back to the wall and her light and chisel hidden. When she awoke, hungry and with cramps in her calves, she etched more messages on the floor. Her favorites included “actions speak” and “desire dreams.”
Sure, each message was getting less and less coherent the last, and maybe a little pushy, but she didn’t have the strength or speed to write long messages representing complex ideas in the space of a single stretch of darkness. She also wanted it to remain a mystery how the messages appeared. So she continued writing brief messages that she hoped inspired the fallen enkelis to think and feel, messages that also made her friends happy if they heard of them. All the while she hid her chisel and light so that there was some mystery to how those messages had appeared, which she hoped might make the enkelis more likely to talk about them.
After falling asleep multiple times, Brit assumed she had been in solitary for a few days. The walls were now covered with shallow etchings of hundreds of messages from the floor to as high as she could comfortably reach. She set to etching each word deeper and bolder. She started with her first message, the message that mattered most. When every other available inch of wall and floor had been used, she left a clear heart-shaped space around it. No guard had come to stop her, and she wondered if they had stopped broadcasting her image to the others. Maybe nobody had seen her message, she thought, or maybe they had only seen the first one before the guards had shut off her feed. Since the light still came on periodically, she continued the ritual of etching when the room light was out.
After sleeping twice more, she was shaking too much to stand at all. She lay on the floor quivering. Brit didn’t want anybody watching to think that she was scared, and so she faced away from the light. Death was coming, and she knew it wasn’t far off. As much as she hated this world, she still feared death, and she feared dying alone even more.
She became less lucid and drifted in and out of sleep, not bothering to turn off her light anymore. She had no sense of time, and lollipop dreams of her childhood mingled with mining nightmares or of her recent past. Azure creatures and black and gold suited enkelis all swam in her vision.
When she finally saw Jax’s face, she knew that death was close. He had a long dark beard, but she still recognized his eyes and smile. She reached out and touched it, and the sensation was so real. Her lips cracked as she smiled. Brit tried to speak, but her throat was too dry and came out as a hoarse whisper.
“Good bye,” she managed.
“Hang on,” he said.
She closed her eyes for a long time. Visions of Marcy and Hunter swam past, and these final thoughts of her friends pleased her. Even Avrox and Peter were there. The vision of Peter spoiled the effect some for he was the whole reason her life had ended this way.
A cool touch on her hand inspired her to open her eyes again. Now she was feeling things as well as seeing them. The hallucination felt so real that she nearly believed it.
Marcy was pressing a halo into Brit’s hand, but Brit was too weak to grasp it. Jax remained kneeling over her. The delusion continued, and Brit began to believe it might be real. Or maybe this is how one begins to trust delusions, she thought. Was it the persistence of a hallucination that made people think they were real? She didn’t resist. She didn’t want to. She reach out for Jax. If he was in her imagination, she would die believing he held her.
“We can’t stay here,” Hunter said. “They’ll zap our asses if they catch us.”
Brit’s eyes flickered open for a moment.
Jax took the halo that Marcy had pressed into Brit’s hand and picked Brit up. She felt the cool touch of the halo against her back.
“Let’s go,” Jax said.
Slowly, whether it was the effect of the halo pressed against the bare skin of her back or the jostling of being carried while Jax ran, alertness came to Brit. She realized that at least some part of her hallucination was real. She was being carried, and the man carrying her had a beard, something very few of the enkelis had. Those few enkelis that did have beards never had one as long as this man. He was human, and those eyes… Those eyes were definitely Jax’s.
Her dry lips hurt, but she couldn’t help it—she smiled. If she died now, this was the moment she would cling to until her spark was extinguished. With the little strength she had, she reached out and caressed his tattered superhero t-shirt, ruined by time and labor. There wasn’t much left of it, and that was fine with her.
She knew they were running from her cell, that there were likely guards looking for them and that worse punishment was imminent, and that made it all the more urgent that she study his face now. That made it urgent that she drink in every last detail of how he had changed. His beard made him look older, but his skin was still smooth and unmarred. She could feel his belt buckle press into her side, and she presumed some semblance of his jeans must have remained. Disappointing, she thought.
His arms and chest were more defined than she remembered. He had exercised back on Earth, but now he had the appearance of a man etched from stone rather than a man molded from clay. His face was a mask of determination and his eyes glared ahead.
They passed through an exit into the open air. Brit glanced around and saw the statue of the crucified grandchild of Jumala. In the distance, Brit heard the sound of an aircraft. Whether enkelis in pursuit, visiting lords looking to pick up their purchases, or some standard shipment she had no idea. Now that she felt the warm sun on her face, the likelihood that this would be the last time she breathed fresh air dawned on her.
When she looked around, the typically busy streets were in chaos. Normally, slaves and enkelis moved about their business briskly. But all those she could see were running at full speed. Splotches of violent clashes were sprinkled on a greater canvas of fear and confusion.
She saw a dozen slaves subduing two guards while another guard desperately ran with a half-dozen more slaves chasing him. His black and gold suit allowed him to leap into the air, and it seemed like he might take flight until his foot was seized by one of his pursuers. He rose more slowly until the other slaves latched on as well and he was pulled to the ground. The screams were terrible to hear, and Brit tucked her head against Jax’s shoulder. She didn’t want to see more.
After traversing narrow side streets, they entered a building and Jax set her gently down. He was panting.
“Don’t you dare say anything about how heavy I am,” she whispered hoarsely.
He grinned and pressed her halo into her hand. “You’re light as a feather.”
“I can carry her,” Avrox said.
“No,” Jax said. “I’ll be fine. We don’t have much further to go.”
“You look like shit,” Marcy whispered. Her voice sounded stronger than it had days ago, but not so strong that she could speak at normal volume.
“You are really fucking lucky we found you,” Hunter said. “If you hadn’t been in my old cell, it might have taken days to find you.”
“How did you know it was yours?” Brit asked.
“Molly,” Hunter said. “She’s my daughter.”
“I remember now,” Brit said with a nod.
“We need to move,” Avrox urged. “There will be legions of enkelis swarming the city soon, and we need to be safely in the mines before then.”
Jax knelt to lift Brit.
“I think I can walk,” she said. She felt stronger already due to the effects of the halo.
“You haven’t had anything to eat or drink in many, many hours,” Jax said. “We thought you might die before we could find you.”
Brit forced herself to a sitting position and felt lightheaded. Jax noticed, then gently picked her up as easily as one might pick up a bag of groceries.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered.
His lips brushed against her cheek, and she clung to him with what strength she still had.
Chapter Thirty
W
hen they arrived at the mine, there weren’t any slaves in sight. The trees and rolling hills looked inviting, but instead, they plunged into the dimly lit passage.
“We’ve made it,” Marcy whispered. “Thank the Lord.”
“Jumala would certainly not approve of our escape or actions,” Avrox said, clearly confused by Marcy’s thanks.
“Why not head to the forest?” Brit asked, ignoring both of them.
“It isn’t time, yet,” Jax said.
“I meant the real god,” Marcy said, now irritated with Avrox.
“Jumala is real,” Avrox said. “I’ve seen him.”
“My god wouldn’t enslave people,” she said. “He helps those who pray for assistance.”
Avrox looked confused. “I hope Jumala doesn’t find him.”
“Jumala is just some sort of alien. He’d be destroyed by the real God if they ever met,” Marcy said, visibly irritated. “God created the universe and humans.”
“He created Jumala?” Avrox asked, now confused.
“Yes, he created Jumala,” Marcy said, frustration clear in her tone. “God created everything. He could destroy him as well.”
“Jumala would be a powerful adversary,” Avrox said.
“God isn’t somebody you can see or fight. He’s all powerful and could destroy Jumala with a wave of his hand.”
“Our god isn’t some pussy that needs slaves,” Hunter said. “He’s pure goodness, and he grants humans eternal life in a paradise if they follow his ten commandments.”
“Oh,” Avrox said with tremendous disappointment. “Only humans?”
“Only humans have souls,” Marcy said.
Avrox nodded. “Maybe he doesn’t know about enkelis.”
“I’m sure he’d let you into paradise if he knew about you,” Brit said in an attempt to steer the conversation to their current situation. “We need to focus on the problems at hand. What are we going to do about the legion of enkeli warriors that will be swarming over the city soon?”