Exodus

by R. J. Wolf

  “Mit…Mit we’ve gotta go.” Steve nudged him gently.

  “Steve! Steve look!” Mikey screamed form the car.

  Steve looked at Mikey then followed his hand back towards the house. There was something moving near the burning ruins, something alive. Steve squinted and leaned closer.

  Suddenly, a figure emerged from the flames. It slowly came to a stand and turned to face them.

  Mit lifted his head and stared in confusion. “Mr. Clark.” He stuttered.

  The figure began to walk towards them at a quickened pace. It was a man’s body covered in flames, but seemed unaffected by them. The fire rolled over his face and across his back melting his skin into gooey puddles.

  At first his steps were staggered as he struggled to find his footing. But with each step he seemed stronger. He walked faster and faster and then broke into a run.

  “It’s Mr. Dimair!” Steve screamed. “Mit get up! Get up now!” He dragged Mit to his feet and took off towards the car.

  “Run! Run children run.” Mr. Dimair called after them. “I will catch you.”

  Diving into the car Steve slammed the door. Mikey closed the other door and they sped off into the night.

  XV

  “You sure this is the right place?” Mikey asked skeptically.

  Mit didn’t answer, but swung the door open and stepped inside of the wooden cabin. It was a little bigger than a two bedroom apartment, tucked away in the middle of the Utah woods. Five miles away from any main road, if you didn’t know it was there, you weren’t going to find it.

  Steve flipped the light switch on the wall and dropped his bags. A warm glow emanated around the cabin. There was a furry brown rug in the center of the living room surrounded by green vinyl covered sofas. An empty fireplace was cut out in the far wall and to the right was a tiny kitchen.

  Unlike most cabins, instead of animal heads the walls were covered in photos. Photos of Mr. Clark and his father, Mr. Clark and his mother and in the center there was large picture that looked newer than all the rest.

  Mit noticed the picture first. His feet moved mindlessly across the room until he was standing in front of it. He stretched out his hand and touched the wooden frame, staring into the photo.

  It was a cool, sunny day and they were all standing around a picnic table. Mr. Clark was pointing at something, his other hand on Mit’s shoulder. Steve and Mikey were laughing as they wrestled over a Frisbee. Mit remembered it like it was yesterday, he could feel the wind brushing against his cheeks, smell the taste of spring in the air.

  The picture was nearly two years old. It had been taken a few days after they’d told Mr. Clark the truth about Anthony. He never judged them, never doubted them once. He looked Mit in the eye and vowed to help them find him.

  Mit had felt so happy that day. It was the first time he’d smiled in a long time, like he was finally emerging from a dark tunnel. Mr. Clark had brought them back together, gave them a purpose after they’d lost everything.

  Mit felt a sudden sense of gratitude well up in him as he choked back tears. Mr. Clark had given so much, he had been the only one who could look through the fray and see them. He deserved better, he deserved more than fiery funeral set amongst his enemies.

  Mit gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Lifting his hand he wiped his face and let out a deep breath. He felt a firm grip on his shoulder and he turned to find Mikey standing next to him. He looked up and locked eyes with him. Mikey’s deep blue pupils were sad and heavy, every trace of adolescence gone. Like the playful youth of yesterday had been brushed away in one stroke.

  Suddenly, the room started to spin and Mit couldn’t find his breath. He closed his eyes trying to steady himself and collapsed to the floor. Tears streamed from his face and he no longer had the power to hold them back.

  An overwhelming sense of emptiness washed over him. His eyes stung with the hopeless feeling that nothing would ever be right again. Mikey knelt next to him as Steve walked over and crouched beside them. Nickie stood at the door unsure of what to do, like she was intruding on something very personal.

  Mit cried hysterically. He tried to speak, but only guttural sounds could be made out between his sobs. He clenched his fists and beat his hands against the wooden floor.

  Steve stared at him with pain in his face. Mit had always been so pragmatic about everything, always so even tempered. Watching him completely give in to his emotions was disturbing.

  “Who’s…who’s gonna tell Mrs. Clark?” Mit stuttered in between his jagged breaths.

  “Don’t worry about that now.” Steve whispered.

  Biting his lip, he fought back tears as he stood up. Blinking he turned around and faced the door. Nickie was still standing there, hopeless depression drawn all over her face. Her eyes watered, but she looked up at Steve and forced a smile.

  Sighing, Steve smiled back then walked off and started scanning the rest of the cabin. Everything was neat and put away, just like Mr. Clark had kept his house.

  It was obvious that this had been his plan all along. Somehow he knew they’d end up here and he’d prepared them for it.

  In the corner of the room there was a table with a map laid out across it. An area of the map was circled in red with the words “you are here” written in bold. There was a line from that circle to another spot on the map that had Anthony’s name written next to it.

  Beside the table were five black utility bags spread out on the floor. Steve knelt down and grabbed one. He unzipped it and looked inside. It was stuffed with random camping gear and tactical equipment. Ropes, radios, knives and even a black handgun were stuffed inside.

  Zipping the bag, Steve stood back up and turned back to Mit and Mikey. “We’ve gotta make sure this place is safe.”

  He walked off and started checking the windows and the doors. Nickie joined him as she turned around and twisted the deadbolt.

  “Come on, you just need to rest.” Mikey said as he helped Mit to his feet.

  Holding his arm, he walked Mit into the bedroom and helped him onto the bed. Mit grinned and then laid his head back. Exhausted and emotionally drained, he fell into a deep sleep before his head hit the pillow.

  The room was modest. Two wooden twin beds sat back against the wall adorned with thick blue blankets. A fuzzy, green rug was spread across the wooden floor and aside from a painting of the sun set the rest of the room was bare.

  Mikey rubbed his face and sighed. It was times like these when he wondered if any of this was worth it. For all they knew Anthony could be dead, no one was really sure. And just how many lives was his worth?

  He stared at Mit for a moment and then turned out the light. As Mikey walked out, he heard muffled voices coming from the living room. Rounding the corner, he saw the faint glow of a television flickering near the wall.

  “Where’d you find that thing?”

  “Never mind that. Look what’s on.” Steve pointed at the screen.

  Mikey stepped closer to the TV and sat down on the couch next to Nickie. The local news was playing and her eyes were glued to the screen.

  A red banner scrolled across the bottom of the television. An older gentleman holding a microphone was standing in front of a pile of smoldering wood that Mikey immediately recognized as Mr. Clark’s house.

  “A gas leak has led to a massive explosion in the small town of North Shore. This freak accident has claimed the life of the home owner, Fullerton Clark. No other injuries have been reported at this time.” The man spoke loudly over the sound of sirens and horns.

  “There were at least ten people in that house when it went down.” Steve said as he headed into the kitchen.

  “Spectrals.” Mikey mumbled.

  “We should probably move the car around back.” Steve responded as he grabbed the keys and walked outside.

  “He’s not taking this too well.” Nickie said as soon as he was out of earshot.

  “Who, Steve? He’s fine.”

  “I don’t think he is, y
ou might want to keep an eye on him.”

  “Thanks for the tip Nickie, but I think I know my friends a little better than you do.” Mikey stood up and headed towards the room. “I’m going to bed.”

  Nickie rolled her eyes and cut the television off. She lay back on the couch and sat in silence staring at the ceiling. As she relaxed into itchy cushions, the sounds of the forest played clearly in her ears. Owls, crickets and other night creatures seemed to spring to life.

  Nickie wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying in the dark when she heard Steve come through the front door. He seemed to tip toe into the kitchen and slide the keys onto the counter.

  He carefully sat the black duffle bag that held the guns and dynamite into the corner and sighed in relief.

  “Anybody up?” Steve whispered.

  Nickie wasn’t sure why, but she closed her eyes and didn’t answer him. She could hear him tinkering around in the dark. His footsteps moved from the kitchen into the living room and back. She could feel him walk past her and then head into the room. A few minutes later the door closed and she opened her eyes.

  A sense of bone rattling fear crept through Nickie’s body. It was like the reality of everything had come crashing down on her all at once, a cascade of emotions that she couldn’t control.

  With a deep sigh, she covered her face and began to cry into her hands. It was all so unfair. What happened to Anthony, what happened to Mr. Clark and now they were held up in some tiny cabin in the woods. She’d never suspected her summer could go this wrong.

  Nickie felt alone and scared. She never thought anything would go this far. Somehow she found herself trapped in the middle of it all.

  Mr. Clark had at least brought a sense of organization, like maybe he knew what he was doing. Now it was the blind leading the blind. What was worse is that she knew she couldn’t go home. They had all talked about it. Once they left it wouldn’t be safe for anyone to return until they rescued Anthony. For good or bad, the only way left to go was forward.

  Nickie shut her eyes, giving in to her fatigue. Slowly, the blanket of darkness crept across the cabin. With a deep breath, Nickie sunk into the sofa and fell asleep.

  “Wake up! Wake up!” Mit screamed at the top of his lungs.

  Nickie opened her eyes to find him hovering inches above her face. She jumped back and rolled off of the couch. The bright glare of the sun screamed through the windows casting an orange glow over the hardwood.

  “What, what is it!” Nickie said, frantically clamoring to her feet.

  “Breakfast is ready.” Mit grinned.

  Nickie shoved him in the face and disappeared into the bathroom. Steve smiled from the kitchen as he cracked another egg and dropped it in the pan.

  “Told you she’d be mad.”

  “Whatever, she’ll get over it.” Mit shot back.

  “Get over what?” Mikey asked as he stumbled out of the bedroom.

  “Nevermind.” Steve said.

  Mit grinned and sat down at the table. “Chef Steve is making us breakfast.”

  “You seem better.” Mikey rubbed his chin, noticing Mit’s upbeat attitude.

  “He’s got a renewed purpose.” Steve explained.

  “Yeah. I can’t just sit around here and do nothing. Mr. Clark died so that we could get Anthony. That’s what we’re gonna do.”

  Steve sat a plate in front of Mit and ruffled his red hair. “I like your spunk leprechaun.”

  “So what’s first?” Nickie asked as she made her way towards the table.

  “Well, Mikey did you ever get the article?”

  “Oh! I’ve got that right here.” Nickie reached into her pocket and withdrew the crumpled piece of paper.

  XVI

  “I think it may very well be time we leave.”

  Anthony wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. “It’s time we do what?” He mumbled.

  “Leave.” Daviathan repeated, the sound echoing in Anthony’s head.

  There was a loud crack and then the scraggily haired man was standing in front of him. Anthony grinned and sat up. His face had become familiar to him; it was a welcome sight in his dimly lit cell.

  Daviathan smiled back and then spoke. “I brought someone with me, someone who has longed to meet you.”

  Anthony looked around the cramped cell. There was certainly no space for anyone to hide.

  “Um, is he invisible?” Anthony asked, trying not to sound condescending.

  “Lupercus, get in here.” Daviathan said aloud.

  There was another crack and a man appeared next to him. He was the same height, but broader than Daviathan. His hair was the most brilliant golden color Anthony had ever seen. His eyes were a radiant orange like the color of the sun. His veins pulsed under his copper colored skin.

  “Is this the boy? I tell you Daviathan he doesn’t look like much.” Lupercus smirked.

  Anthony had to admit, if he’d seen himself huddled in the dingy cell he’d think the same thing. His hair had grown past his shoulders and knotted together. He’d lost at least thirty pounds and the parts of his face that weren’t covered by his rope-like hair were smeared with dirt and grime.

  “He’s seventeen Lupercus, seventeen human years. Just look at him, look at him and tell me he is not the one.”

  Lupercus sighed and took a step forward. Instinctively, Anthony squirmed away and cowered in the corner. Lupercus paused and raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean you no harm child. Let’s have a look at you.”

  Anthony slowly stood up. His legs shook wildly and he leaned against the wall to steady himself. He looked to Daviathan and he nodded back at him. Hesitantly, Anthony took a step closer.

  “What do you call yourself?” Lupercus asked.

  “Anthony.” He responded, barely above a whisper.

  “What does he know of us?” Lupercus looked to Daviathan.

  “Nothing, he was raised as one of the humans. He knows nothing of our ways, nothing of his true power.”

  “Hmph, you risk much Daviathan. My charge is now the safe keeping of the two proximas. With any luck they will be enough. You risk discovery prior to their maturity, and for what? We can’t humor every delusion you have. The centum is lost to us.”

  Lupercus turned to walk away. Daviathan grabbed his shoulder and spun him back around.

  “Lupercus look at him! Look at him and tell me you think otherwise.” Daviathan demanded.

  Lupercus stared into him. His orange eyes flickered like the ambers of a flame. He took a deep breath and then turned back to Anthony.

  “Give me your hand boy.”

  Anthony held his arm out and Lupercus grabbed him around the wrist. There was nothing at first and then a surge of energy like an electric shock, shot through his fingers.

  Lupercus stumbled backwards. He fell into the wall and grabbed his chest. He breathed heavily, staring at Anthony in awe.

  “This…this can’t be.” Lupercus gasped.

  He looked to Daviathan in bewilderment. His mind raced with questions. Straightening himself up, he pushed off the wall and warily walked towards Anthony.

  “It’s not possible.” He whispered.

  He gently grabbed the sides of Anthony’s face and swept the thick tangled hair out of the way. He stared into his eyes and for a moment everything vanished. It was just Anthony and Lupercus.

  They were standing in emptiness. All around them there was nothing, not blackness, but the absence of matter.

  “I can see them now.” Lupercus said. “You look so much alike.” His eyes began to tear. “It’s fitting that they named you Anthony. You are known to our kind as Lux Caelunem.”

  Anthony smiled at him. He was unsure why, but he felt as though he knew him.

  “Who are you?” Anthony asked.

  “I am…well I guess in words you would understand I am your god father.”

  Anthony’s mouth fell open. “Do you know who my real parents are?”

  Lupercus’ face fell, but he did not br
eak eye contact. “Your parents died long ago. They sacrificed themselves for you…and your brothers naturally.”

  “I have brothers?” Anthony exclaimed.

  “Oh yes two of them, Telum Dues and Scuto Celeritas. These days they’ve chosen to go by more human names however, Devin and Cayden.”

  “Lupercus!” A voice called. Anthony heard it like a soft echo on the wind.

  “Lupercus! They are coming.” It was Daviathan’s voice and it had a dire sense of urgency.

  “We will talk more when you are safe.” Lupercus said.

  And with that they were back inside of his cell. Daviathan was pacing about the floor and stopped when they appeared.

  “So it is true?” He asked desperately.

  “Yes, he is the centum.”

  “Then you know what we must do.”

  “I do.”

  Anthony looked from one to the other in complete confusion. They carried on the conversation like he wasn’t there.

  “Get word to the old woman and let the others know. We must do this soon, for I fear they may already know too much.”

  Lupercus nodded then turned to Anthony and smiled. “We have much to catch up on. I know you have many questions and I will answer them all when the time comes.” He touched the side of Anthony’s face. “It is so good to see you.” And with that he vanished.

  “We will be free of this place soon. I know nothing makes sense, but it will.” Daviathan said as he stepped towards him.

  Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the rattling of keys. Daviathan whipped around, right as the heavy iron door swung open.

  A hairy faced guard loomed in the doorway, swaying back and forth like a baby giant. His black hair was clipped into a buzz cut. Sweat drizzled down the contours of his filthy face like a river and splashed onto the floor.

  Next to him was a tiny man, dressed in scrubs and a lab coat. He was young, barely out of college and the expression on his face screamed fear. A silver pen was tucked behind his ear and he hugged a brown clipboard to his chest.