Divine_Scream

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Divine_Scream Page 23

by Benjamin Kane Ethridge


  “Suspenders? They’re wearing suspenders and no shirts? Where are you looking? Point, Carol!”

  She pointed and Jared followed the direction of her finger. He saw them then, probably less than half a mile away. His eyes weren’t as good as Carol’s apparently, but he saw the ten men slowly treading through the dense brown sand. Jared took a quivering breath into his lungs, and looked out past the long pier to the water and back to the approaching monsters.

  He would run. It didn’t seem like they could catch him before the water, but he couldn’t sit around debating that theory; it was time to move.

  “Thank you so much, Carol.” He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

  “I’ll drive right to the water if you want,” she said, brown eyes sparkling with failing sunlight.

  Jared judged the distance of the Assembly again. The sand looked wet enough. They’d had to go over the curb and take out a small blue picket fence. He considered it a moment more and shook his head. Too many factors. No way would he get this woman closer. Even if they weren’t inclined to change the death schedule, it was too risky, and he couldn’t be responsible for another life.

  “Thank you, no.”

  He shut the car door and jogged to the bent blue picket fence half submerged in the sand. He hopped over it, his knees protesting when his feet struck down. He checked the lifeguard shack but no longer saw the Assembly. He started toward the ocean, but his eyes still desperately raked the beach.

  He saw them again.

  They were running.

  Shouting.

  Crying.

  Screaming.

  Like warriors of a savage planet.

  Like wise men of a disturbed era.

  As though running to a long lost brother.

  As though moving to the last stage of a brutal gauntlet that had lasted since the invention of murder.

  Jared put his head down and took longer strides. He’d run so much today it was pathetic how slow he went, but he had to make it to the water or everything Banch sacrificed would be for nothing—as well as those other lives lost and the pain caused to innocents.

  He pushed harder. The beach rose and fell with his labored breaths. His heart still beat strong from the tense ride in the Mustang, but it had a good rhythm now and if he hadn’t known better, would have thought it was trying to pump in sync with his steps. His mind wandered and he grew dizzy. He was such a klutz. What if he tripped? What if bloody hands grasped him around the neck just as he was pushing up from the ground?

  His legs nearly failed him when his shoe caught something under the sand. He dropped on his side. He kicked up again, throwing sand behind him and a neon green beach toy with it.

  “Damn it!”

  Scrambling to his feet, he moved with renewed effort, throwing sand every which way.

  “Kare!” the group of men snarled.

  He powered on. The sand came off his soles in sheets. His foot went down wrong and sent him reeling again. His arms thrashed forward, comically reaching for something that would never be there. And then: Knees twisting. Jaw snapping shut. Air sucked through his teeth. Hands gripping the cool sand. Thundering ocean tableau. Keening sound in his mind.

  Over his shoulder he saw them. They rushed forward with blinding speed, but judging from the distance they still couldn’t reach him. He knew he’d be in the ocean water in less than a minute.

  Thanks, Banch. I’m so much more real than I used to be.

  The ocean was in ten feet when a hard impact to his hip buckled his knees. It caught him by surprise and he yelled out, “What?”

  Jared lifted his head, spread out his hands to push up, but a blunt gray-red-rusted thing burst into his view and in seconds it was inches from his face, like an entire planet of metal had descended on the world at once. The impact made his front teeth jiggle in place and shards of pain leapt up deep into his gums. Stars shattered. Darkness lit. Sea air stuck in his collapsed sinus. The sky spun sideways. Reality became sand in his ear, under his eyelids, up his nostrils. He tasted blood on his tongue.

  A treacherous plowing sound went through the damp sand. Jared’s eye cracked open in a sheet of blood. The Assembly pulled back one of those grappling hooks of theirs. The sight of it joined with the pain in his skull made him gag. He turned to his side to vomit but the diamonds of pain in his hip all the way into his chest made him re-focus and gasp. He could hear the sounds of waves crashing. So powerful. So close. He couldn’t see though. His vision was black-locked. Sand ran down the back of his throat with saliva, a mud that made him wretch and quiver for its intrusiveness in his body.

  He forgot where he was.

  Who he was…

  What he…

  Why?

  Hard, bleeding hands, fingers like heavy fishing hooks, snatched him under his arms and ripped him up to a standing position. A bass collection of voices forced itself deep into his ear drums. “KARE.”

  A resounding sigh followed so raspy and full of need that Jared let loose a whimper.

  They had him.

  He hoped Banch had left as he’d asked. They’d certainly hurt her. Maybe throw her into the ocean out of revenge.

  Don’t show up, Banch.

  Maybe she took his letter to heart and made it to the Free Zone. There were corridors all over this place. It would have been easy to just slip away. He scanned the beach as the Assembly pushed him forward. He almost pitched face-first but a thick hand seized him by the neck and another thumped his chest, almost knocking the air from him.

  “Keep walking,” they chorused.

  “Why do you want me?” he coughed. “Haven’t you tired of your sad games? Aren’t you finished with being subjects to Kings who would have you suffer for one scrap of kindness every century?”

  “We will never tire of you, Kare,” they said.

  Jared lunged to break away. Jumping in front of him, an Assembly member smiled and ran a sensuous hand down his tall afro into a face full of dried red, the aftermath of an endless bloodstorm. His eyes burned hot gray.

  “You will not go,” his mouth moved, and yet all ten said.

  Jared turned his shoulder down and charged. He struck the other’s body like meeting an ancient castle wall. Jared’s teeth clicked and he flew back; his ass hit the sand, head snapped, and he went flat. Before he could even find his breath, a tiger-lion-bear-freakish hand clutched his throat and fired him into a standing position. “Stop resisting,” the Assembly threatened.

  He was shoved forward, not hard enough to fall to the ground again but just about. He could see the corridor shadow on a hill that sloped upward to the parking lot. It was one way to the Fortress.

  “This won’t make you feel better for your lot in life. It NEVER does,” he told them.

  They dragged their gift faster toward the hill.

  A figure ran out in front of them. Her chest heaved. Her modern clothing, though normal, seemed foreign on her. The Assembly halted him.

  “No,” Banch cried through deep breaths. “I’ll be your gift—just let him go.”

  “Funny,” said the Assembly. “We will make you pay for this, Utumm Resona.”

  Banch lifted her hands. She looked so incredibly tired. “Come then,” she whispered. “Make me pay.”

  The Assembly didn’t take her cue—they turned away and surprisingly headed closer to the ocean.

  “No!” Banch said. “No!” she yelled at them. “Please!”

  Jared felt like he’d collapse on the sand every two steps but they kept going—not toward the ocean anymore though—they’d quickly headed away, intent on shoving him up the hill toward the parking lot. He could see the shadow where they would plunge.

  The view of that shadow became blocked.

  Banch put herself in their path.

  Ten growls sent out at her.

  “I’m warning you,” said the banshee. “Let the human go. Can’t you see? It was me you needed, all of this time. Take me and leave him. You won’t be sorry.”

>   Silence.

  The two members who had Jared’s wrists tightened their grips and he noticed the others balled their fists, veins snapping up in the blood stained skin.

  “Give way, Utumm Resona,” they said.

  “You really won’t take me instead?”

  “Don’t you dare act surprised, bitchwhore. You knew we wouldn’t.”

  Banch took a deep breath and her eyes settled on Jared. There was love and sadness there. He knew those unique versions; he was married to them, and his heart sank at how this failure would affect her. He couldn’t think of her in that ocean, but if they took him, what else was left?

  That’s what she’d wanted. Just not on the terms she’d hoped.

  “I understand now, Banch,” he said, raising his voice through the wind. “This is how it has to happen. Do what you have to.”

  The expression in her eyes didn’t change. The sun was low, but there was enough light to paint a gleam in them. Jared felt his own eyes fill with that same emotion. He knew in the next moment, somehow, against all probable reasoning, he knew this would be the last time he saw the banshee he’d fallen in love with today—the soul who made him more than he deserved to be.

  Banch’s mouth opened. This sound he’d heard before, but after the Divine Scream it meant more. It was odd how a sound, a stretched out, brutal force of vocal magic could mean different things from second to second.

  But it did.

  And this scream was one Jared recalled, but it was so removed from everything, and felt brand new. Until his molecules started to race away and he then did remember this particular scream.

  It was a Swell.

  He couldn’t believe Banch had the power to do another. This would rip her apart. She’d have to heal for a long time to recover from something so catastrophic to her body. Jared didn’t have a chance to say a word. His mouth atomized and rushed out. Eyes turned to the Assembly—watched as their bodies broke into glittering fragments and surged to the ocean, along with him. Jared’s head filled and he realized he was about to be scattered glitter as well.

  It took only a few seconds. His body had been starlight and now it was whole again. Banch had not sent them far. The ocean crashed, high and loud around him. He felt the taint of the gift wash not from his skin, but from deep inside his bones. And just as he thought he might black out and fall face-first into the ocean, Jared heard the Assembly die.

  Chapter 32

  Jared

  Jared slugged through the water. A pungent fiery odor hung in the air and meat cooked to ash. A few bones floated on the water and dissolved into white, ropy strands, which fizzled and lifted off the waves in claps of steam. The Silent Kings must have been scrambling right now—Jared was sure of it. They’d need to build another collective consciousness and teach it how to work the hinges between the dimensions. Hands-on training. It would not be pleasant.

  A pleased smile touched his lips at the thought.

  But the smile faded when he caught sight of the body. His heart drummed so heavy black starbursts exploded into his vision. He concentrated on breathing and steadied his pace. As he approached, a fountain of blood erupted from Banch’s throat and she twisted slightly in the sand.

  “Coming Banch! Coming! Hold on!” He limped through the soft wet mush of the beach.

  Her body was still. He tried to calm himself with the facts. She was immortal—it was only a matter of time before she’d heal. She’d be fine. There was no question about that. This was a reality she’d lived with for thousands of years. It was only a matter of getting through the pain. He couldn’t bear thinking she’d endure it all for saving him, but endure it, she’d have to.

  When he reached her, he fell to his knees, heart stutter-stopping, popping, jerking in his chest. He kissed the side of her mouth. Unconsciously he licked his lips. The blood tasted different, sweeter, yet still rich in metal. He put his hand over the flowing wound in her throat brought on by the Swell. He leaned his mouth against her ear. It was hot and gritty with sand.

  “I’m sorry I went against our plans,” he whispered. “I thought there was another way. I thought I could help. But we did it, Banch! We did it! You’ll heal and, and, I’m free of the taint.”

  He stroked her hair. It buzzed under his hand like dying electrical current. “I—I just didn’t want to think of you going. I couldn’t… selfish, I guess, but I know it’s not what you really wanted, right? I saw my life through your eyes and I knew somehow you didn’t want me to go forward without you. I bet on that, but…” He looked around a moment, searching for the right thing to say. “I also know why you want it over. I’m just one life. When I’m gone, you’ll have to continue watching the senselessness of it. I get that, Banch.”

  The tide surged forward and for the first time Jared noticed its proximity. It would reach Banch soon. He’d have to drag her away, since he couldn’t lift her off the ground. Her healing had already begun and strands of flesh had reconnected in her neck. A good sign, but it would be some time before she could scream again. Maybe days before she could even speak whole sentences.

  “Banch, I’m gonna have to drag you above the tide.” He put his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry to have to move you.”

  He slipped his hands under her arms and readied to draw her up. She was immobile and couldn’t say anything. What would she say if she could? Tell him to get his hands off her? Let the waves come and end this thankless job once and for all? Let her walk into that light, since this was her only chance?

  His hands eased under her cold back and a chill went through his body to settle in his stomach. He trembled so hard his teeth clattered and he had to steel himself. “Banch? Do you want me to let you go? Do you want to just stay here? Do you want to go into the light? Can you blink for yes?”

  Her eyelids didn’t move. Her eyes were distant. It was obvious. She wasn’t even listening. She was in shock from the pain. Jared thought about it a minute more. He knew how she felt. He knew that ending her existence meant far more than her love for him. Why was he not giving her what she needed? He’d be walking into that light soon enough himself. If there was an afterlife, doubtful that it was, his only chance to ever see her again was to let this happen.

  “Okay… okay, Banch,” he said, a tear spilling from his right eye. “I’ll stay with you until the end.”

  Her gaze moved to him but she still looked out of it.

  “Did you hear me? I’m with you. I’m with you.” He kissed her cheek a few times. “Come on, Banch—what do you want me to do? Hold you?” A dry laugh trailed off his lips.

  He studied the tide and tried to make an estimation, though he could only recall back to his sandcastle-building days. It seemed like the water might be upon them in the next ten minutes, but he couldn’t be positive. Banch’s eyes started moving back and forth, probing around. She was becoming more coherent, but the glazed-over surfaces still indicated her miles from clarity.

  Jared’s mind crept into so many different locations, scenarios, and resolutions. He started vacillating. Maybe he should just wait until she healed? Then she could decide for herself. He could call the Gilded again. Get some painkillers. But what if she missed the chance? She’d resent him. She really did want this. He’d read it on her heart. He had to be strong and give her release. There had to be a moment where he stopped being so self-consumed. His mother and father had loved him, even though they enabled him to be broken, but he knew what it meant to love. Deeply. You had to give up everything. You had to eat your fears and use them to grow into something bigger.

  He stretched his body out in the sand next to Banch and put his hand on her thigh. “You’ll never know how much it meant to me, what you shared. So much sorrow, but it was you, the whole time. Having so much of your life inside my memories now… it’s a gift like no other. I always wanted a moment with a perfect woman—you gave me countless moments, Banch.”

  A small sound bubbled in her throat.

  Her eyes were tranquil
.

  The tide had inched forward a few more feet. It would be quicker than ten minutes—maybe even less than five. Banch’s neck wound had fully closed by now—just a reddish discoloration in the skin. Her head twisted around. The hiss of the tide sounded much louder. Soon. Jared would need to deal with her being gone. But at least he knew it was what she wanted. At least he could finally get something correct for a change. For how he’d held so many other people back—people he cared about, family and friends alike—this was his chance to rise above that. In a way, he was excited at the prospect.

  “No…” Banch mumbled.

  He startled and tossed his head toward her. “What?”

  A rapid gurgling rose from her throat and her face moved again. Jared couldn’t decide whether to be hopeful or full of dread with how quickly her head swiveled and body shook violently. Jared took her arms, bringing them close near her body. She growled and kicked her feet in the sand. He struggled to keep hold of her.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay. Hold on! The water’s coming.”

  “No!” Banch said.

  “No?”

  She caught his wrist with surprising power and brought him close.

  “Don’t,” she said. A horrible sound clicked in her throat.

  “Shit!” Jared scrambled to his feet. He went behind her, took her under the arms.

  The tide washed over Banch’s feet.

  “God no!” he shrieked.

  Her feet folded into themselves and burst into a bright hot light. Shimmers of clove colored starlight snapped around them.

  “I’m disassoc—” Banch retched. “—iating.”

  He helped her up and her groan was dreadful enough to taste. “I’m sorry! Hold on! I know where the corridor is.”

  Jared’s heart thrummed and punched inside his chest. Dark stars dazzled before him. He could imagine passing out so easily, he began to think he was passing out, but he stumbled backward, dragging Banch through the sand. Her lower legs were gone. Her knee caps bubbled with cosmic illumination.

  “It’s not far,” he told her. “I can get you there.”

 

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