The boy waved. “The Dorms are still here; who’s going to stop us from living in them? They can’t kick us out.”
“But the water and power are both out,” objected someone else. “That’s no good.”
“I say we go downtown,” shouted another. “The Council got us into this; they should get us out!”
A widespread rumble of assent went up.
“Yeah! This is the Council’s fault!”
“They should fix this for us!”
“It’s their responsibility!”
Everyone began shouting. Reed shook his head. He didn’t know where this was going, and he didn’t know what to think about it. He needed a few moments of quiet to absorb it all and think it through.
No one else seemed to need any time. Momentum mounted, sparked by the accusation and fanned by the anger that swept across the Square. The confusion and chaos were swallowed up by the raging fire of a new sentiment; a scapegoat had been found. All the murmuring vanished, beaten down by the thundering drum of thousands of united voices. The crowd was chanting. “The Council’s fault! The Council’s fault! The Council’s fault!”
Reed turned and surveyed the sea of angry faces. There were so many! What could any of them do now? Their world had fallen out from under them in one day.
He caught sight of a lone figure streaking away from the Square and away from the city. He had a vague suspicion who it was but didn’t have long to reflect.
At that moment, there was a terrifying roar from the east side of the Square. Reed spun around and froze. On the side of the Square farthest from him stood Dorm Six, its narrow front facing the crowd. Reed’s eyes fell on the building just in time to see its windows vaporize before the power of a massive explosion. Time slowed. Flames and smoke shot out from the bottom-story windows. The brick walls bowed outward and then, in a curtain of fire, disintegrated with an earth-shaking roar.
The deafening explosion drowned out the screams and cries that replaced the chanting. The force from the blast swept the Square and flattened the crowd before it like a battering ram. Dust mushroomed over the Hill in a choking cloud as glass, brick, concrete, wood, steel, and tile rained down thicker than hail. For what seemed an eternity—an awful eternity—the world turned upside down.
The shower of debris ceased. The rocking earth righted and stilled as the last echo of the explosion died away. There was absolute silence. Dazed, Reed rose to his feet and looked around him. A thick haze of smoke, dust, and ash hung in the air. Where Dorm Six had once stood, there was only a pile of rubble with an occasional flame licking upward. The trees near the site were blasted of their leaves and blackened on one side. All the windows of the other Dorms facing the Square had been blown out.
The other teenagers were getting up now, staring about them in silent shock. Many bled from gashes on their faces and arms. Not a word was spoken by anyone for a moment. Then a wail rose from one of the girls. “They’re trying to kill us!”
Her cry was joined by others. “The Council did it! They want to murder us all!”
“They don’t want us to use the Dorms again!”
“This was their plan all along!”
The boy who had read Michael’s note leapt back up onto his flowerbed, gripping his forearm with a gory hand. “See what they’ve done?” he shouted. “They dragged us here, and now they’re trying to destroy us! Are we going to stand for that?”
“No!” The angry cry echoed back as one voice.
“No, we’re not!” the boy yelled. “We won’t be slaughtered like cattle! We won’t be duped again! We won’t let them get away with it!”
The crowd responded with an unintelligible roar.
“There’s only one thing they’ll understand: make them pay! Let’s go get ’em!” He flung his blood-covered arm toward the city and jumped down from his platform.
In a deafening uproar, the mob—for such it had become—broke from the Square and poured over the Hill like a raging waterfall, surging onto the road down toward the city below.
The last of the furious mass streamed away, and their roar faded into the distance. Reed was left alone on the Square. Those teens were not the same friends he had left that morning. They were ferocious, out-of-control animals. Something terrible had transformed them in a few short hours. It was betrayal, anger, and the hopeless loss of everything they loved. It was the unleashed rebellion that had been simmering since the beginning. Woe to the Chairman and the Council now!
Reed, dazed, dragged his eyes over the empty Square. Empty? Not quite. Amidst the thick litter of timbers, brick, chunks of concrete, and broken furniture, there were bodies, dozens of them. They lay where they had fallen—broken, twisted, unmoving. With a rush of horror, he realized that not everyone had escaped with only cuts and bruises.
He dropped down to the nearest form and felt for signs of life. There were none. He moved to the next and stopped. It was Allie. She wasn’t breathing. He realized then that none of them were. There was not a single cry or groan, not a movement in the entire Square. He stood up and stared about him. He knew many of them. There, off to the left, was Sam lying on his back. Poor, foolish Sam. He had loved the Dorms, but they had destroyed him in the end. Reed suddenly understood how Elijah had seen him the whole time.
Elijah! Reed had completely forgotten. He was supposed to meet him at the Gorge hours ago. One glance at the sun, hanging red through the smoke, told him it was growing late. Lucy must be there already. With a last look around him, Reed snatched up his backpack and ran out of the Square.
Down the North Stairs, across the Mushroom parking lot, through a maze of sidewalks, out onto the country road, Reed did not slow his pace until he reached the creek that marked where he was to turn off into the woods. He stopped to catch his breath and looked back the way he had come.
The Hill was still partially shrouded in a dusty haze, the Dorms jutting out of it like an ancient ruin. From the city, billows of smoke swelled up from what he guessed was downtown. Elijah had been right. Woe to anyone caught in the Council’s headquarters that day!
Further to the right, another dark, swirling pillar towered into the sky. Reed knew that area well. It was the Boulevard or, rather, it had been. Apparently, the mob’s wrath knew no bounds. Before nightfall, the whole city would probably go up in flames.
He took a last look at the spreading darkness, inky black in the red rays of the dying sun, then turned his back on the scene and plunged into the woods.
Chapter 37
Reed ran as fast as he could, tearing through the underbrush and branches of the forest. He stopped once or twice when he thought he heard faint popping noises somewhere in the distance, but his pounding heart was all that thundered in his ears. The woods were quiet.
He slowed his pace. Here, in the peaceful forest, the horror of what he had just lived through fell away, forgotten, and he could breathe, taste, smell again. He didn’t feel the desperation and the rush anymore. The sunlight was golden and pure as it trickled through the trees, untainted by smoke. The quiet rustle of leaves in a late afternoon breeze was the only sound. He relaxed. Elijah had said he would not leave without him. Once he explained why he was late, the others would understand. He took a few deep breaths and began to enjoy his walk.
At last, he heard the murmur of running water. He was nearing the Gorge. A few steps later, he broke out of the trees into the familiar clearing and stopped dead.
At the foot of the gentle, green rise, two figures lay on the turf. He recognized both in an instant. One he knew by the hair and clothing. Hunter lay face down in the grass, unmoving. The other, on his side with his face averted, was Gabe. A pistol lay between them.
As he stood there, Gabe coughed and groaned. Instantly, Reed was at his side, rolled him onto his back, and raised his head in his arms.
“Gabe! Gabe, can you hear me?”
The young man snapped his eyes open. “Reed!” he gasped. “Where’s Lucy?”
“I thought she was
here.”
“No, no, she left. She went looking…” Gabe broke off and coughed again. Reed glanced down and saw that Gabe’s left hand, blood oozing between the fingers, was pressed to his upper abdomen. Reed lifted it, and his breath caught. He put the hand back. “Gabe, listen, you’re going to be okay.”
Gabe shook his head jerkily. “No—no, I’m not. But, Reed, you have to know. Elijah, he…”
“What? Where is he?”
Gabe, in obvious pain, squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s… he’s dead. The guy shot him, and he fell. He fell into the Gorge!” The sentence ended in a gasping sob.
Dead? Elijah? It couldn’t be! Reed could only stare at Gabe in disbelief. “No!”
“Yes,” Gabe choked out. Each word seemed to take an agonizing effort. “I came here after the explosion—was going to meet him. I heard voices and came up slowly. He…” He jerked toward Hunter’s form, “he had ’Lijah backed up against the Gorge. He had a gun; I jumped him, but I was too late. One second too late! He fired just as I hit him. ’Lijah fell over the edge. He’s gone!”
Reed felt like his lungs were collapsing.
Gabe went on, half-crying. “We wrestled for the gun. It went off and got me. But—but I won. Reed, I was too late!”
Reed leaned over him, thrusting aside his own feelings. “You can’t blame yourself, Gabe! You couldn’t help it.”
Gabe rolled his head. “But what if… maybe I could have gotten here sooner or found the ringer or…” He broke off suddenly. Grabbing Reed’s shoulder with his free hand, Gabe pulled himself up and fixed his eyes, intense and penetrating, on Reed’s face. “Reed, tell me the absolute truth: did you do it?”
“No, Gabe! I swear it!” A tear trickled down Reed’s cheek. “I wasn’t ever the ringer! I wasn’t! But I found out who was. And you… you took him out just now. That’s him over there.”
A look of utter relief washed over Gabe’s face, and he sank back. “I got him,” he breathed. “I got him!”
Reed could hardly speak. “But, Gabe… Gabe, I’m so sorry!”
“No, Reed, I’m sorry. Don’t say another word. I suspected you! I accused you, I was unkind, I was so wrong!”
“Forget it, Gabe.” Reed mastered himself. “It’s okay. I was suspicious. You were only doing your job.”
“But—but we could have been friends… all this time,” Gabe breathed softly. His voice was getting weaker.
“We still can be,” Reed whispered, taking Gabe’s free hand in his own. “We are.”
Gabe looked into Reed’s face and gripped his hand tightly. “Yes—yes, we are. But not… not for long. I’m going, Reed.”
“Then go, Gabe,” Reed said gently. He hardly knew where the words came from. “Go and sleep in peace… brother.”
Gabe smiled slightly and let his eyes drift closed. “Brother,” he said softly. “Brother.”
“Goodbye, Gabe.”
Reed had seen death before, but he had never seen someone actually die. Perhaps it was always like this, or perhaps it was different for Gabe. Reed never knew exactly when it happened, for it wasn’t an “ending” like he would have thought. It was a passing. Reed had heard of someone’s spirit departing, and that was what he saw. It was strangely sweet and awesome. Gabe sank away, slipped away, slept. Gabe was gone.
When he knew for sure that it was over, he laid Gabe’s head back onto the grass and placed the hand, still gripping his own, by his side. Then he rose and walked up the slope to the point overlooking the Gorge. He stood at the edge, staring down at the dark, swirling waters below. The current was deep and smooth, flowing on—ceaselessly on and on. In his mind, Reed saw the dandelion falling, falling and spinning down to dark water, its yellow crown for an instant on the surface, and then it was gone—sucked down and gone forever. His sorrow overwhelmed him, and he fell to his knees, crying silently and uncontrollably.
How long he remained there like that he never knew. The dark water swirled on; his tears fell onto the grass and down into the current. The rest of the world ceased to be, or perhaps it simply went on and left him and that clearing behind in a still capsule in time, like water flowing around a rock.
In that moment, though he hardly knew what was happening, something in Reed ceased to exist and something else began. There, on the green cliff above the dark river in the quiet woods, a new Reed was born. In an encounter with the all-powerful, all-loving God, the old burned away, leaving a strange new gift in its place. After a whole lifetime, Reed knew peace. The prayer of Elijah was answered.
At last, Reed let his eyes drop down to the grass beside him and caught a faint gleam. There was blood on the turf, deep crimson and, in between the darkened blades, something glistened. Reed reached down and lifted it. A silver chain draped over his fingers, dangling a green leaf pendant. There was only one like it in the world. Somehow, Elijah had dropped it as he stood there, perhaps intentionally. The clasp was unbroken.
Reed held it in his hands, gazing at it. It was not a thing to be taken lightly, not a thing to be trifled with. The meaning it had for Elijah still held true—both meanings. It was a weighty thing to accept. Reed hesitated, then slipped the chain around his neck.
He rose and walked heavily back down the slope to the edge of the clearing. What now? There was Gabe to be taken care of, and Hunter, and… no, there was no Elijah. No Elijah anymore. Reed sat down on a log and buried his face in his arms.
A hand touched his shoulder. He looked up and saw Lucy, her eyes red and her face streaked with tears, standing over him. He had almost forgotten about her. “Lucy. You’re here. He said you went looking for me. Elijah…”
“I know, Reed. Gabe told me before he sent me to find you.” Her voice was thick with the effort to hold in what must have been raging inside. “But I wasn’t here. I missed… Elijah, for one last time.”
Her restraint burst like a dam before a swollen flood, and the turbulent waters poured out—trauma, shock, grief. She covered her face, and her shoulders shook with wracking sobs.
He looked down, fighting to keep his own husky voice calm. “Then you know he waited for me. I was late and now… he’s gone.”
“No, Reed!” She sat down beside him, her own tears still streaming but her sobs held back in an effort to comfort him. “You can’t blame yourself! He wanted to wait for you. He knew the danger, but he still wanted to. He wanted you to come. He… he loved you.”
Her voice softened as she said the words, and she broke off, overwhelmed by her emotions. Reed said nothing. He could not.
Lucy cried silently for a moment, her tears falling into a sorrowful dew on the fresh blades of grass. Then a new thought seemed to rouse her. Taking a breath, she spoke again. “But, Reed, even now, he’s not really gone. He never will be! That’s why Elijah was so special. His spirit will never die, Reed, never, because he had something that no monster with a gun can end. It outlasts everything, even death. He had… Jesus.”
Reed swallowed. “I know. And now… now I do, too, thanks to him.” He looked up and met her eyes squarely. “He said God would make it all clear to me and bring it together, and he was right. I believe.”
“Reed, do you mean… Oh, that’s wonderful!” Her face lit with joy even through her tears. “I’m so happy! And I know he would be, too.”
“Yes, he would. He was the one who showed me. He prayed for me.” Reed’s voice broke. “Oh, Lucy! He was my… my...”
“I know,” she whispered. A tear ran down her cheek. “He was mine, too.”
They sat for a moment with only the faint swish of the water breaking the silence. Reed heaved a deep sigh. “So now what? What do we do?”
“Do?” She wiped her eyes. “You still have to get out of here.”
“Leave?” He was surprised. “But why? The Council doesn’t exist anymore.”
She fixed her eyes on him. “It might no longer exist, but the power behind it still does. And until the day that power is gone, it will pursue you, Reed. Satan hates you
, and he will try to destroy you. You have to be expecting it.”
Reed frowned. “So I’m running away?”
“No! That’s not what I meant. I mean you should understand that’s what’s going on, but you have to leave because… maybe because you’re being called to go.”
“Called?”
“Yes! We’ve all felt since the beginning that God had big plans for you. Think what you’ve experienced! Everybody out there wants to find true stability and hope; they need someone to show them the way. We’re all called to do that. Don’t you see? You can help them, Reed! You understand what they’re feeling, and you know what they need.”
Reed reflected for a moment. Lucy’s words awakened something in him, something that had stirred once before. It grew like a flame: slowly, but strong and unquestionable. With it came a whisper in his heart, the echo of a familiar revelation.
Just like me.
It was an echo from the shooting, when he had suddenly longed to help his hurting fellow teens. He was needed. He had escaped the collapse, but others had not. They were out there everywhere—hopeless, helpless, hungering. He stood up. “I… I need to go home.”
She rose as well. “Back to California?”
He nodded. “It’s a long way, but… I think that’s what I’m supposed to do.” He turned and looked at her. “But what about you? What are you going to do now?”
She swept her eyes over the clearing. “I’ve got to let the others know what happened. I’ll send Matt to get them. I’ll need the guys’ help with Gabe. We’ll bury him here; it’s so lovely.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “They can decide what to do with the other one.”
“And after that?”
She met his eyes. “I’ll go where He calls me. You have your purpose, and I have mine. I don’t think I’ll stay here, though. None of us will. We’ll probably scatter.”
Her eye fell on the pendant dangling on his chest, and she caught her breath. He followed her gaze.
“I found it in the grass,” he said quietly. “He dropped it… somehow.”
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