Angel Fall

by Coleman Luck

  Amanda stared. Gurgling happily, the little boy clapped his hands. Above them the sky was clear and the universe was filled with stars.

  13

  PATH THROUGH THE TREES

  It was midmorning when Amanda finally awoke, and waking up wasn’t easy. Her sleep had been filled with horrible dreams. Nightmares about Tori. Nightmares about Alex. And other nightmares that she had had so many times before. For a moment she lay shivering, trying to remember.

  Where was she?

  What had happened?

  She was lying on her back in the sand. Towering above her was a gravestone covered with scorch marks. Sitting up, she turned to look for the baby. The movement made her gasp—every inch of her body ached. But the most awful pain was in her hand and ankle where the roots had touched her.

  It was all the proof she needed that the worst nightmare had been real.

  The little boy was awake, sitting quietly, looking at her with his strange eyes. She tried to smile at him. “Hi. Hope you slept better than I did. I’m not doin’ so good this morning.” She examined the burns. They were streaks of white surrounded with haloes of dusky red. The skin was hard and there was a sickly sweet odor about it. “You saved us last night. How’d you do that? What kind of a baby are you?”

  The little boy only smiled and cooed. A bubble formed on his lips. As it grew larger, he stared down at it. When it popped, he jumped. His look was so comical that Amanda laughed in spite of her pain. “Well, that was a pretty normal baby thing. I guess we’d better eat before we start out. But I’m sure not hungry.” When she opened the knapsack, though, she realized how weak she was. Every move took a tremendous effort. “I hope I feel better soon, or we’re not gonna get very far.”

  Breakfast was light. Little cakes, a piece of fruit, and sips of water from a bottle. Neither ate very much. Finally she packed it all away and put the baby in his sling. Then, with the knapsack in place, she stood up. Instantly she was almost overcome with dizziness and had to grab a gravestone to keep from falling.

  “Oh, God, what am I gonna do? I’m really sick.” She started to cry. Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to be home with her mother. Her mom would put her in bed and wipe her face with a cool damp cloth. Her mom always knew how to make her feel better. Funny how little she had appreciated that until now. But something inside whispered that she would never see her mother again. Amanda gritted her teeth. “Just shut up. Stop thinking that.” With a tremendous effort she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. The dizziness was fading. She forced herself to search for the path.

  The vines that had choked the graveyard had been burned away. Now a thick layer of white ash covered everything. With the vegetation gone, the path was clear. But with the first step came a deathly exhaustion. After only a few feet she had to stop and lean against another stone.

  How am I gonna do this? she thought. I’m never gonna make it. More tears welled in her eyes. Then she looked up. Far away loomed the great Mountain. “Oh, please…if I’m supposed to come to you, you’ve gotta help me…and you’ve gotta do it right now.”

  Nothing seemed to change. But in a few moments she found the strength to walk a little farther. And after that, a little farther still. Then she was on the path and there was nothing to do but keep going. At the edge of the graveyard she found gateposts covered with carvings. Walking between them, Amanda entered the forest…and the Mountain vanished from view.

  The path wound through a jungle of delicate ferns. Dense trees with long willowy branches drooped overhead. Amanda barely noticed any of the beauty around her. Very soon her face was covered with sweat, and her head became so heavy that all she could do was stare at the ground. Looking at the baby helped a little—as he hung in his sling against her breast, he seemed to be making a scientific examination of her hair. A curl was in his tiny fist and he kept trying to taste it. “No, that’s yucky.” But she couldn’t say any more because forming the words was too exhausting.

  As she struggled on, slowly her body seemed to grow heavier. Every few minutes she had to stop and rest. And the burns made her want to scream. Instead of screaming, she became very angry.

  How could Bellwind have sent me out this way? She knew there were terrible things out here, things that could kill me. How many miles is it to the Mountain? Hundreds? Thousands? We’re never gonna make it. Why does the baby have to go there anyway? I never got a single reason. We’re gonna die in the forest, and it’s my own fault.

  Around and around the dark thoughts circled. And as the pain grew worse, out of the despair came the darkest thought of all. Why keep walking? It’s too hard. All I have to do is lie down in the soft leaves and close my eyes. Just lie down…and die. But Amanda refused to do it, though often she could barely see for the tears. What kept her going was the baby. When the tears fell, he would touch her face with his tiny hand and look into her eyes with such concern that it made her smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you. I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us. I just can’t go much farther.”

  But her love for him had grown very deep and one step led to another.

  The forest remained unchanged until the middle of the afternoon. Gradually the underbrush grew thicker, and the path began to twist through shallow ravines. They had just rounded a bend when in front of Amanda was a dead tree. Finding a dead tree in a forest shouldn’t have been unusual, but even in her pain she realized that this tree was very odd. It was in the center of the path and nothing else was growing around it. Once it had been large, but long ago it must have been struck by a blast of lightning. A black scar ran down its trunk and all that was left was a single branch with a few twigs at the end that stuck out like broken fingers. But what was oddest about it was the wood. It was deathly white with streaks of crimson and from it came a sickly sweet odor, the same odor that was on her skin. She hurried past. But a few hundred yards farther, she came to another one standing by itself in a little clearing.

  And after that there were more and more.

  It was late in the afternoon when Amanda knew that her strength really was gone. Every time she took a breath she felt a stabbing pain in her side and her legs had begun to cramp and stiffen. She scanned the woods for a place to spend the night. Thankfully there were no more dead trees around. For some reason she had come to dread them. A few yards off the path she found a sheltered place in the ferns. Enough leaves had dropped to the ground to make a soft bed. Here she spread the blanket, and after gently laying the baby on it, she collapsed beside him. With her last ounce of strength she opened the food. The little boy ate a few bites of cake and drank a sip of water; Amanda drank some water, but that was all. She was burning up. Lying on her back, she fell into a trancelike sleep.

  As the hours passed, the afternoon faded into darkness. Shafts of moonlight fell through the trees. She lay soaked in sweat, gasping for air. During the night she had two strange dreams, and they were so vivid they didn’t seem like dreams at all. In the first one she awakened with a start. Her head was splitting and her eyes wouldn’t focus. The baby was awake on the blanket beside her.

  She had heard something.

  In the distance…a deep, pounding roar.

  Was it thunder?

  It couldn’t be thunder, because it didn’t stop. It just kept going.

  Where had she heard a sound like that? She struggled to remember. Horses. It was like galloping horses. A lot of them. And they were coming closer. But she couldn’t see them. All she could do was hear them pounding in her head…pounding and pounding until the crashing was everywhere. When it was gone, the illness was much worse.

  The second dream was even weirder. In it she was lying on the blanket unable to move. A terrible heaviness was on her chest, and she knew that she was dying. With a great effort she turned her head toward the baby. All she wanted was to see him one last time. He was sitting up, looking at her with starlit eyes.

  Then she heard rustling, dragging sounds. Something heavy and lumbering w
as coming toward her. The sounds came very close…and stopped. With dim eyes she stared upward. She was surrounded by dead trees. Their diseased bark seemed to glow in the moonlight. At first she was afraid. But then she looked at the baby, and without knowing how, she knew that he had called them.

  As Amanda watched, the broken, twisted arms of the trees spread out above her and from their branches fell drops of cool liquid in a soft rain that bathed her burning skin. The largest tree was at her head, the one with the black scar on its trunk. Slowly its branch reached down to her lips, and the drops entered her mouth. She was too weak even to swallow, but as they ran down her throat she felt life enter her body. Shortly after that the fever must have broken because the dream faded and she slept.

  When Amanda awoke the next morning, her pain was almost gone. The burns on her hand and leg were still there, but they didn’t hurt at all. When she looked at the little boy, he was smiling at her. She smiled back. “Well, good morning. You look happy. Was I ever sick last night! And I had really weird dreams. But I’m feeling a lot better. Are you hungry? I sure am.” They both ate a good breakfast. Not far away she found a bubbling stream with cool, clear water. After washing herself and the little boy, she filled their water bottle and rolled up the blanket.

  Once more they set out on their journey.

  The path continued through the forest, and this time the walk was almost pleasant. Amanda was amazed at how good she felt. Her body still ached a little, but the improvement was so great that she didn’t even notice. She even sang nonsense songs to the baby. And he was happier too—the only shadow came when they approached one of the dead trees. She still didn’t want to look at them. It was true that in the dream they had taken away her sickness, but that was just a nightmare caused by fever. She told herself that being afraid of dead trees was stupid, but it didn’t help.

  Finally Amanda became disgusted with herself. The next one she saw was close to the path, and it was very small. “All right, I’m tired of this,” she said. “We’re gonna put a stop to it right now.” With a determined look she walked right up to it. “This is a dead tree. You’ve seen a lot of dead trees. So stop being a dork.” She forced herself to touch one of the branches. The strange bark made her shiver; it felt almost like skin. And from it came the sickly sweet smell. Then a terrifying thing happened. As she examined the branch, she seemed to hear a small voice whisper in her mind, Don’t be afraid. Don’t ever be afraid, no matter what. With a cry she jumped back, and hugging the baby, she ran and didn’t stop until she was far down the path. Exhausted, she dropped to the ground, gasping, “I hate this place.” After that the journey was much less pleasant. Every time she saw a dead tree, she ran past it as fast as she could. And there were many of them.

  As the afternoon became evening, Amanda started looking for a place to spend the night. This wasn’t as easy as before, because the ground had become swampy. Everything beyond the path was mud and weeds. When it was almost dark, the thought occurred to her that it wouldn’t hurt to spend one night in the open. Bellwind had warned her to hide after the sun went down, but the old woman couldn’t expect them to sleep in the mud.

  Suddenly she saw something deep in the forest; far away in the shadows stood a very large building. Who’d put a building in the middle of nowhere? she thought. Well, whatever it was, she didn’t want to stop and visit. Just looking at it creeped her out. But as she continued walking, there was a rumble of thunder and raindrops began to fall.

  “I can’t believe this. It’s raining. If we get wet now, we’ll be wet all night.” Reluctantly she looked back at the building. “I guess we’d better check it out.” With a sigh she left the path and began squishing through the weeds. The building was farther away than she had thought, and by the time they got there, they were drenched.

  The storm brought an early darkness, and lightning crackled across the sky. As Amanda approached the hulking structure, she shivered. It was a gigantic heap of rubble covered with dripping vines. With each lightning flash she saw more. It looked like a stadium. It was circular and the outside was lined with columns. Once it must have stood twenty stories tall, but now it was a broken ruin.

  Sloshing through the mud, she looked for a place to get out of the rain. Another lightning flash. Not far away was a massive arch that looked like the main entrance. Cautiously she crept inside and found a broad tunnel that led off into darkness. The echo of dripping water was everywhere and the walls reeked of decay. Close to the entrance she discovered a little alcove that was dry. Dropping the knapsack, she wrapped herself and the baby in the blanket.

  “Well, this is better than sleeping in the rain. Are you hungry?”

  She groped into their supply of food. The little cakes were all gone, but the next layer down was brownies, and they were delicious. As she fed one to the baby, tears came to her eyes. They tasted exactly like the ones her mom used to make.

  Instantly, in her memory, she was back home in her own warm kitchen. Amanda cried for a while; then she looked at the little boy. She could just make out his face in the lightning flashes. How mysterious he was; he never cried and he was always happy. And with one touch he had saved their lives. She told herself that even if she never got home again, as long as they were together, everything would be okay.

  Then she fell asleep.

  It was the middle of the night when Amanda woke up. The rain had stopped and everything was quiet. Why had she awakened? The baby was awake too. She could feel him moving. She listened. Had she heard something? From the darkness of the tunnel came a strange low sound, like air pushing in and out.

  Slowly…softly…over and over.

  Breathing!

  It was exactly like breathing…as though something huge were breathing in the darkness.

  It was breathing!

  Grabbing the baby, Amanda sat up. Suddenly she was trembling so hard that her teeth chattered. The sound continued for a moment. Then came a deep whisper: “Who…are you?”

  Utterly terrified, she huddled against the wall.

  The whisper came again: “Who…are you?”

  Amanda thought she was going to be ill. She didn’t know what to do. Should she run? She couldn’t run. Whatever it was was right out there in the tunnel.

  The voice spoke with great gentleness. “You’re a child…and you’re afraid. I can feel your heartbeat. Child, it is no accident that you have come here. Tell me your name. Who…are you?”

  There was such calm in the words that Amanda stopped shaking. Gulping hard, she mumbled, “I’m…I’m Amanda Lancaster. Who are you?”

  “A friend to those who travel to the Mountain.”

  “That’s where we’re going.”

  “Then, come, child…and talk to me.”

  “I’m talking to you right now.”

  “No, come to where I am.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Follow the tunnel.”

  “But…it’s dark and I don’t have a flashlight.” Her voice was trembling.

  “There is nothing that will hurt you. Walk with your fingers against the wall.”

  “How do I know…you won’t hurt us?”

  “You don’t know. But you must have faith.”

  “Have you ever heard of…Bellwind?”

  The answer came with such loving emotion that Amanda was surprised. “Heard of her? Oh, yes. Long ago, I knew her well. So very long ago. Is she, then…still living?”

  “We were just with her.”

  Now the great voice was trembling: “Come to me, child. Walk to the end of the tunnel…and don’t be afraid.”

  Slowly Amanda got up. Hugging the baby, she stepped from the alcove. As she did so, she whispered, “I hope I’m not doing something really dumb.” With one hand against the wall she began groping down the stone corridor. Everything was pitch black. “I don’t see you. Where are you?”

  “Keep walking. It isn’t much farther.”

  Suddenly ahead she saw a patch of moonlight. As
she moved toward it, it grew large. Finally Amanda emerged from the tunnel into the open.

  And what she saw lying on the ground took her breath away.

  14

  CRYSTAL CORRIDOR

  Gooeyness.

  That was the first sensation.

  When he awoke, Alex discovered that he had forgotten to take the remaining fruit out of his shirt and his stomach was covered with slime. His second discovery was equally unpleasant. He was alone. Crawling from the cave, he looked around. A few shafts of pale sunlight fell through the trees giving the forest the appearance of late autumn, and everything was deathly still.

  The dog was gone.

  For a few minutes he wandered around calling, but finally he had to accept it. The dog had deserted him. As he stared into the silent forest, Alex felt like a lost child. As aggravating as the animal had been, he was all he had. Suddenly he was furious with himself. What kind of stupid idiot follows a strange dog off into nowhere? Anybody that dumb deserves whatever happens to him.

  But as he raged, there came a cold awareness. He’d better figure out what he was going to do or he would die out here. Okay, one step at a time, he told himself. Even though he wasn’t hungry, the first thing to do was eat. Picking up a piece of the squashed fruit, he stared at it. It looked like a handful of brown rot, but he forced himself to take a bite. Not nearly as good as yesterday, but better than nothing. While Alex ate, he considered his options. This was easy because he didn’t have any. He wasn’t going back to the city, which meant that wherever the road led, that’s where he was headed. He wondered how long it would take to find civilization. How many miles would he have to walk? Hundreds? Thousands? It couldn’t be thousands.

  When he was done eating, he found a little stream, and there he washed the fruit slime off his body. When he was finished, he remembered that he still had two pieces of squashed fruit left—probably his only food for the day. And the only way to carry them was in his shirt. So much for washing. With a grimace he tucked the slick lumps against his skin and headed toward the road.