by Chad Brecher
“The one depicting the injured warrior?” Ellie offered.
“The very same. The mortally injured man is carried to a tree and is fed a leaf…a white leaf…and lo and behold he is healed.”
“I remember it,” Ellie responded.
Clay pointed up towards a point midway up the tree. Ellie squinted and strained to try and identify what he was attempting to illustrate. She could see the rich and luxurious green canopy of vines draping over the tree with the glint of white branches peeking out. Her eyes darted about and finally settled on a short branch that arose directly off the main trunk. Snakelike vines were wound tightly around the branch. Off the tip of the branch was a single white leaf.
“Unless your eyes are better than mine, I can only see one white leaf. In this leaf I see hope,” Clay solemnly pronounced.
Alex sized up the distance to the leaf and gave Clay a skeptical sideways glance.
“Redmund, it’s quite a climb.”
“I may be old but nothing is keeping me from getting my fingers on that leaf,” Clay announced with determination.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
The voice was raspy and shallow, causing the three to turn around suddenly. Perched atop one of the bridges was Solomon. Like an apparition, he staggered forward across the bridge, clutching his chest. His breathing was labored and perspiration dotted his forehead. He leveled his gun at them as he unsteadily positioned his body next to the tree. The gun shook in his tremulous hand and he glanced down at it with embarrassment. He gave a quick look up at the single white leaf hanging from the branch.
“You know that there isn’t a chance in hell that you are laying your hands on that leaf so you can look at it under some microscope. I don’t imagine you have much sympathy for me, but I think I’m in need of more immediate help.” He lifted his hand from the side of his chest. A wheezing noise was emitted as blood and air escaped from a jagged hole between his ribs. “Now I would send one of you monkeys up there for me but frankly, I don’t trust a single one of you buggers enough not to chomp on it yourself.” He thrust the gun in Clay’s face. “Back up, old man, or I’ll drop you right in front of your precious tree.”
Clay raised up his hands and backed away, frightened by the maniacal glint in the man’s eyes. “Solomon, please. This is more important than you or me.”
“Maybe you…not me,” Solomon responded and slipped the gun into the back of his waistband. He swung his leg over a root, straddled it, and shimmed up it until his body was flush against the massive trunk. Clay watched helplessly below and pleaded. “Solomon! It can’t be wasted! It’s the last one! Think about what you are doing!”
Solomon grunted in disgust at the man’s idealism and reached out to seize a handful of the vines winding across the trunk. He gripped them, pulled down, and found them to be as strong as a rope. Satisfied that they could hold his weight, Solomon took a short leap and clung to the trunk. He immediately dug his boots into the rough surface of the white bark beneath the ivy and was pleased to find that it provided a suitable foothold.
His breathing grew increasingly rapid and painful with each series of advancement up the trunk. He glanced over his shoulder and could see the three figures below staring up at him anxiously. My lung’s collapsed. My chest cavity is filling with blood. I’ll be dead in no time unless that crazy fool is right about that leaf, Solomon thought and grimaced. He shook off any doubt of his success. I’ve been through worse. I’ve survived it all. I will survive this.
Solomon emitted a bestial roar as he fought the searing pain shooting through his chest and into his shoulders. He continued to stoically pull himself up along the vines as he ignored the warm trail of blood running briskly down his flank and dripping onto the island below. He pressed his torso tightly against the trunk of the tree and paused to catch his breath. The sensation seemed as innocuous as it was unexpected, a faint tickle across the portion of his abdomen left uncovered by his torn shirt. When the tickle did not cease, he inquisitively peered down at the itching spot. He was more than a little surprised to see that the vines pressed against his torso appeared to wiggle and twist.
I’m going crazy. I’m losing too much blood, Solomon thought.
He felt a wave of urgency sweep across his body. He dug his boots even more forcefully into the bark and propelled himself up farther. Solomon smiled at the sight of the white leaf nearly two yards above him. His biceps tensed as he gripped the vines. Then suddenly, he froze. He could hear a subtle hissing noise. The vines began to squirm wildly beneath his body, producing the hissing sound as they rubbed back and forth against the bark. He pulled his left hand away as a vine began to wind its way around his wrist. An intense pain shot through his hand and he looked down in horror as a violaceous welt was left where the vine had been attached. Solomon kicked away at the vines beneath his feet and scurried up. At first the burning in his skin was mild, but as he continued to climb up the tree he could feel an intense heat spread across his exposed forearms. He looked down with alarm as red splotches quickly appeared on his skin and his arms began to swell dramatically. He teetered for a moment as the scorching heat began to travel through his entire body.
The vines! They’re poisonous!
He clung desperately to a branch as his skin began to bubble and crack. Large fluid-filled blisters and boils began to form across his body. The slightest contact would disrupt the thin, translucent membrane of the blister leading to the expulsion of cloudy fluid. Solomon gave forth a blood-curling shriek at the sight of his skin peeling off in long sheets.
He felt his grip slip and he reached out at the last moment to catch a thick branch under his armpit. He stood awkwardly for a moment propped against the branch with his boots pressed against the trunk of the tree. His breathing continued to grow more rapid and shallow. His throat began to burn and narrow as the mucosal lining grew edematous and bubbled. He struggled to stay focused, but found the world around him growing increasingly dim. Solomon hung limply and whimpered as his eyelids began to swell dramatically and his vision narrowed. He peered up through the slits between his eyelids and could see the white leaf hanging less than a yard away. Solomon reached out and could see his hand float in front of him as if it was not a part of his body. He could feel his body slipping forward and screamed out in horror as the skin from his armpit peeled off. He reached out wildly a final time, catching the vines under his elbows. With a snap, he could hear the vines tear away from the tree, sending him tumbling uncontrollably towards the ground below.
84
Ellie turned away at the sight of the man lying contorted in a heap at the edge of the island. Solomon lay motionless, his body swollen and red, his facial features barely recognizable from the inflammation. Ellie had hated this man, despised him for killing the people she had loved…Gordon…Bernard. She could remember the indifference in his eyes as he dispatched the Mongolian shaman with the flick of the finger. She wished him dead. But now that he was dead, she felt strangely empty.
“That was certainly unexpected,” Clay muttered behind her. The man clearly had no desire to mourn such a villain.
Alex knelt beside Solomon and peered at the swollen mess that constituted his neck.
“Tell me you’re not thinking about feeling for a pulse. He could be contagious. Look at him! Whatever those vines seem to secrete is poisonous. I wouldn’t go near him,” Ellie urged.
Alex sighed. “I wouldn’t even know where to feel for a pulse.”
Clay paced around the island in thought, periodically peering up at the white leaf suspended from the branch above.
“It’s quite extraordinary. These vines seem to be alive. They are actually responsive to stimuli. Now we’ve all heard of carnivorous plants like the Venus Fly-Trap or Pitcher plants, but this is in a new category entirely. These vines are quick…reactive. It’s almost as if they are protecting the tree.”
“I thought you said they are killing the tree,” Ellie responded.
“May
be a little bit of both,” Clay mumbled as he distractively tapped his index finger against his lips. “A symbiotic relationship perhaps. The vines gain nutrients and the tree…protection. There’s a fine line between life and death, I suppose. If the vines get a little too rambunctious, they might overwhelm their sustainer. It does produce a difficult problem.”
“What problem?” Alex asked suspiciously.
“The problem of retrieving that white leaf, of course.”
“You’re not thinking about trying to get that leaf?” Ellie asked with exasperation. She motioned to the gelatinous form of Solomon. “Look what happened to him, for God’s-sake.”
Clay looked down at Solomon and made a sour face. “It’s certainly a problem.”
“That’s an understatement!” Ellie replied and threw up her hands.
“I just need to think this out,” Clay mumbled and walked away.
Ellie looked at Alex and rolled her eyes. “The man’s crazy. Even if there is a miracle and he is able to get that leaf, Solomon blew the tunnel. There is one entrance into Eden...one entrance! He caved in any chance of us getting out of here.”
Alex glanced back at the door. Jagged cracks ran across the tilted marble slab with large fragments of stone missing and scattered upon the ground beyond it. Through the openings, Alex could see a wall of stones created by the explosion, blocking the tunnel. She’s right, Alex thought. We’re trapped. He looked up at the tree towering above and beyond it the vivid blue dome. Trapped in paradise.
“Is that what you are worried about?” Clay interjected mid-pace. “I’m disappointed in you two. I would have figured that you would have solved that problem long before me.”
Ellie and Alex peered at him inquisitively.
Clay pointed to the destroyed door from which they had entered. “It is true that there is one entrance to Eden.” He looked down at the agitated water wafting against the island and held up four fingers. “There are, however, four rivers that leave Eden. Four rivers supplied by a single source. Alex, you said it yourself.” He pointed to each of the four waterways neatly divided by the earthen bridges. “One…two…three…four. Four rivers!”
Alex knelt down at the edge of the island and stared across the water. He could see the water stretch away from the island toward the walls that constituted the perimeter of the chamber. Beneath the circular walkway from which they had trod before crossing the bridge, there was a curved archway that rose above the surface of the water. The opening was completely black. Alex moved quickly across the island, periodically crouching to gaze across each of the waterways, finding a total of four openings carved into the stone walls.
“Redmund may be right. There seems to be four canals and the water seems to be funneling out through those passageways.”
“It has to be the way out,” Clay responded as he circled the trunk of the tree, stepping over some roots and weaving under others. He stopped on the far side of the tree where Solomon had clung desperately to the tree before toppling helplessly to the ground. The white of the bark shone brightly where the coat of vines had been ripped away as Solomon fell.
Ellie hugged herself. The neon green-tinged water gurgled violently and swirled. “I don’t know how eager I am to jump into that water, but I’m not too fond of spending an eternity in this cave.”
“Prometheus,” Clay mumbled under his breath.
“What’s that?” Alex asked as he placed his finger into the water and found it warm.
“Prometheus…stealer of fire from the Gods. That’s how I’d like to be remembered,” Clay grunted.
Alex twirled around with alarm.
“Redmund. What are you doing?”
Alex and Ellie turned to see Clay standing on a root before the trunk of the tree. They darted towards the tree just as Clay’s fingers dug into the exposed bark, pulling himself up off the root.
“It’s suicide!” Ellie exclaimed. “There’s got to be a better way.”
Clay turned back as he clung to the trunk. “I’ve thought it out. None of us will return to this place. And I refuse to believe that all of this has been in vain. My entire life has been leading to this moment. It is what I have been searching for. This is my decision.” He pushed off with his boot propelling himself upwards. His fingers dug deeply into the bark until his fingers bled. He looked up along the trunk and could see a path of white. He continued to pull himself up, gripping the rough bark. Clay’s pulse quickened at the sight of vines twisting and slithering forward, beginning to fill in the region of the bark left uncovered by Solomon’s ill-fated attempt.
“Redmund!” Ellie cried at the image of the vines spreading towards the man. She could see his foot slip off the bark. He hugged the trunk for a moment, regained his composure, and secured his footing again.
I need to keep moving, he thought as the vines began to thrash.
Clay clawed his way upwards. He could feel vines brush against his clothes. He swung his body away from their advance but found that the vines were spreading from all directions. He frantically looked upwards, his eyes searching through the green canopy, until they settled upon the lone white leaf extending from the ivy-covered branch. His heart quickened upon seeing that the branch was little more than three yards away. He continued to pull himself upwards as sweat collected along the palms of his hands. Just then, his spirits were dashed at the sight of the vines twisting across the trunk above him until the white bark ahead was covered by a thick coat of green. He stopped his ascent and looked down at the figures of Ellie and Alex.
“Come down. It’s not too late,” Ellie wailed.
If it were easy, then it wouldn’t be worth it, Clay told himself with a grimace. He grunted, reached out with his right hand, and seized a handful of the vines. He could feel heat scorch his palms. Clay tensed his biceps and pulled himself further up the tree. The pain grew more and more excruciating as he advanced hand over hand, pulling the vines. He struggled to free his legs as the vines encircled them. Kicking them off, he cried out as he forced himself to keep moving farther up. The skin along his abdomen felt raw and his hands, now purple and red, pulsated sharp, stabbing pain. He could see the branch with the white leaf an arm’s length away. Reaching out, he attempted to grab hold of the branch. A vine sprung forward and quickly wrapped itself around his wrist. He screamed in pain as the skin was seared beneath it. Focused on the white leaf, he continued to extend the arm until the vine broke away with a snap, leaving a deep, red laceration across the back of his wrist. He nearly fainted at the sight of two bones visible through the jagged cut.
His hand grabbed the branch. He gritted his teeth as he fought to maintain a grip on the branch as his hands became increasingly clumsy due to the swelling. With all the strength he could muster, he pulled himself above the branch, and then allowed his torso to flop down on it. He hugged the massive branch and continued to pull himself across it with jerking movements. The skin along his cheek blistered and cracked. He breathed shallowly through his teeth as he forced himself to ignore the pain and struggled slowly ahead. As his breathing became more labored and his eyelids swelled, he pulled himself the final distance and gripped the branch tightly. He fought to open his eyes and sighed at the image of the white leaf hanging before him like a mystical image. His hands shook uncontrollably as he reached out and clutched the stem of the leaf. With a yank, the stem broke.
So simple looking, he thought and awkwardly slipped the leaf into his shirt pocket. With a groan, he dug his thighs into the branch and began to back up until he reached the trunk again. The vines had grown even thicker around the trunk and he fought to free himself from their entanglement as he descended. Weakened and overwhelmed by pain, he tried to control his descent, to no avail. He slid erratically towards the ground, breaking through the tentacles of vegetation that sought to encase him. With a thud, he painfully landed upon the root of the tree from which he had climbed. As he slipped off the root, he could see the vines twist wildly above him.
85
Clay struggled to prop up his body with his elbow. His eyelids slowly opened, exposing glassy dark pupils set against an injected sclera. He fought to remain conscious as the world around him swirled in a blur of colors. He reached blindly into the pocket of his shirt.
“My God, Alex,” Ellie said. She turned away in horror and fell into Alex’s arms. Clay was a puffy mess. His face was raw from where the venomous poison of the vines had made contact, leaving behind pockmarked and torn blisters leaking a bloody ooze down his cheeks and onto his chin.
Alex kneeled at the injured man’s feet and sighed at the state before him. “Redmund, what have you done?”
Clay’s eyes rolled back in his head as his hand blindly explored the pocket of his shirt. The movement of his fingers were excruciatingly painful and clumsy from the swelling. He removed the leaf. The leaf was diamond shaped and ash-white with raised veins running through it. The top surface was glossy, which contrasted with the dull surface of the back. The stem was torn from where Clay had freed it from the branch. A clear fluid slowly dripped from the frayed tip of the stem and ran along Clay’s macerated forearm. Alex looked on with amazement as the sappy fluid left behind a trail of healing. The inflammation affecting the forearm had retreated from the path of the sap, leaving behind a smooth and unbroken layer of skin.
“Your arm…it’s being healed.”
Clay’s head wobbled on his neck as he attempted to look down at his forearm.
The bang of the gunshot startled Alex. A shower of fragments of wood flew through the air as the bullet impacted the far side of the root nearest them.
“Alex!” Ellie screamed and pulled him backwards just as a second bullet whizzed by his head and ricocheted off the ground. As Alex tumbled back against Ellie, he could see Clay’s face suddenly contort with pain as the bullet struck him with a thud in his torso. Clay grunted and clutched the leaf even more tightly as a pool of blood began to appear by his flank and spread out along the ground.