Doria Falls

by Michael Pierce

  I stood watching them a moment longer before an idea came to mind. I walked straight up to Darius’s little sister, Amber, and bent to one knee. She held her frog stuffed animal with its long dangling legs tight to her chest.

  “Can you do me a favor?” I asked her, to which she stared at me dumbfounded and didn’t respond. “I have a friend here who I’ve been looking after, but I’m afraid it’s too dangerous for him to come with me.” I removed Frolics from my pocket and offered him to her. “Would you mind looking after him while I’m gone? You take such good care of your frog—what’s his name?”

  “Mister Pop,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Mister Pop. That’s a great name. This is Frolics. You take such good care of Mister Pop that I know Frolics will be in good hands. What do you say? Would you look after him for me?”

  Amber looked up at Darius and then back at me after receiving an encouraging nod from her older brother.

  “Okay,” she said.

  I handed her my dog and she hugged him to her chest with the frog.

  “I’ll be back for him,” I said. “I’ll return as soon as I can. I know he and Mister Pop will get along great.”

  “They’ll be best friends,” she said, a smile finally reaching her face.

  “They sure will.” I stood up and extended a hand to Darius. “Good luck and stay safe.”

  “You, too,” he answered. “I think you and Desiree should be coming with us, not hunting down Kafka.”

  “It’s what I’ve gotta do.”

  “And Desiree? Wouldn’t she be safer—”

  “She’ll be safer with me,” I said, knowing exactly where he was going.

  Darius looked over his shoulder. The group was beginning to leave.

  “You seem to have a knack for diving into trouble,” he said.

  “I never seem to learn,” I said with a smirk to lighten the tone of his statement.

  Holding both stuffed animals in one arm, Amber grabbed one of her big brother’s hands and tried to pull him toward the exodus of travelers.

  “Say goodbye to Desiree for me,” Darius said, allowing Amber to drag him backward. “Take care of yourself, Oliver.”

  He turned to walk with his sister, her tiny hand lost in his. Their parents waited for them to catch up. Matilda led the way and the Lorne wolves flanked the group on both sides. I stood back and watched the parade of people leaving the clearing around the cathedral, following their red-headed pied piper and her fierce beasts.

  13

  Doors

  I retreated to the cathedral. Alpha and Beta groups were all that remained. The two groups were already inside, standing in a half circle. Nicholae and Erik positioned themselves in the center of everyone. Behind them, two closed wooden doors stood independently of any framework. They reminded me of the one we used to reach Matilda’s high-rise apartment. I slipped between Mr. Gordon and Desiree.

  “Now that everyone’s here,” Nicholae started, stealing a glance my way, “We can depart. We are the last line of defense from Kafka and the rest of the world. We may be few, but we are strong, stronger than the armies Kafka has amassed.”

  “No pressure,” Logan said.

  At one time that would have been Jeremy’s smart-ass comment, but today Jeremy was only here as a ghost. Others laughed, but Jeremy couldn’t even crack a smile.

  “He’s all yours,” Nicholae said to Erik.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll beat—I mean, keep him in line,” Erik answered.

  Logan’s confident smile lessened, but didn’t disappear.

  Nicholae, Erik, and Cassandra all hugged, and then my teenage father—the leader of the rebellion against the supreme Kafka Lorne—led Alpha team through the left door.

  The air on the far side of the door was much colder than where we’d left. Thick gray clouds blanketed the sky and the increased wind forewarned of an incoming storm. Still, we were surrounded by tall trees, most of them large pines. The remaining trees were bare like skeletons.

  I gazed around to see if everyone had come through the door, which we all had, minus the door.

  “Where are we?” Desiree asked me as if I would know.

  I shrugged, looking farther into the forest, past where we were huddled together. I could see the tree line not far ahead, and Nicholae began marching in its direction. He didn’t say anything, so neither did the rest of us. I sensed our group was unsure of what to expect in our new environment.

  “Should we have our guns out or something?” Desiree whispered.

  I shook my head, still refusing to speak since no one but Desiree had done so since we arrived. If Nicholae had wanted us to pull out our guns, he would have taken out his as a signal to follow his lead.

  Beyond the howl of the wind rose the sound of crashing waves. When we emerged from the trees we found ourselves on a paved two-lane road that hugged a metal guardrail. Past the guardrail, and far below, was dark blue water extending to the horizon. A canyon hundreds of feet across split the land in two. A bridge held up with steel supports and thick cables connected the two cliffs. Several of the supports and cables had fallen. The bridge itself was laced with cracks. Two cars had collided with each other head on; both vehicles were reduced to mangled wreckage and seemed to be forgotten in this vacant world.

  Nicholae walked to the guardrail, to the edge of the cliff, and looked down at the water below. The rest of us soon joined him by the guardrail to see what grabbed his attention.

  Several hundred feet below, the ocean waves crashed onto a shore of large rocks. Behind the rocks was a beach of smaller rocks mixed with sand. The burnt remains of an overturned car lay alone on the sand like a beached whale. Several seagulls were perched on its bare rims and twisted underside.

  “Is that it?” Colton asked, pointing into the distance.

  I followed his finger and saw nothing.

  Nicholae nodded.

  “I don’t see anything,” Desiree said. Her voice sounded like a whisper with all the noise surrounding us.

  “You don’t see anything because you’re looking inside this plane,” Mr. Gordon said, stepping next to Desiree. “They’re looking up.”

  “I still don’t see anything,” I said.

  “You’ve only practiced with the first higher plane. Each one up is exponentially farther. Each one is like learning a new skill.”

  “Learning to see one doesn’t allow you to see them all.”

  “Exactly,” Mr. Gordon said. “You can use the same techniques I’ve shown you, but you just have to realize you’re looking much farther than you had to before. Once you can, it’s amazing what doors will open.”

  “I can already open quite a few doors,” I said confidently.

  “So you think.”

  “Oliver, come here,” Nicholae said.

  I did as I was told and took my rightful place beside my father.

  “I’ll help you transition,” he said to me. “Daniel, you have the other two?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Gordon answered and waved Jeremy over.

  Colton seemed to be on his own.

  Nicholae instructed me to close my eyes and then to reopen them within five seconds.

  The landscape was the same, but the human imprint was gone. We stood too close to the cliff, the protective guardrail was no longer present to shield us from stepping over the edge.

  I looked down. It would be a long, ugly fall.

  The ground-covering mist had returned, pouring over the cliff in translucent tendrils, along with the bleak orange sky. If the road was still there, it had been swallowed up by the fog. The bridge extending across the canyon definitely was gone. The wind had died as suddenly as stepping indoors. The birds had disappeared. We were the only living things left in this shell of a plane...or so I thought.

  “Get down,” Nicholae commanded, his voice forceful, but soft. Everyone in the group dropped to their knees.

  I tried to find what Nicholae saw. My attention was split in all directions.
r />   “They’re already here,” Jeremy said to me, pointing inconspicuously over the cliff.

  I inched to the edge and gazed down at the rocky beach below. We were far from alone. A group of thirty or forty men in black fatigues were positioned at the far side of the beach by the opposite cliff. At the base of the rock wall stood an opening, which the men guarded with varying interest.

  “Do you think they saw us?” Desiree asked.

  “No, we’re good,” Nicholae answered.

  “At least we’re at the right place,” I said. “What’s the plan? Should we sabotage the area where they’re stationed in the plane below, sort of like they did to us?”

  “And let Kafka kill one more guardian?” Nicholae answered. “Also, we don’t know how long he’s been in there, or how close he is. You don’t want to be mid-sabotage when the plane drops again.”

  “Good point,” Desiree said.

  “We can’t wait idly by again.” Nicholae scooted away from the edge of the cliff until he was out of sight from those below, where it was safe to stand. “We’re going down there and you’ll cover me.”

  I was about to ask who he was talking to when I realized he meant the rest of us in the group.

  By Nicholae’s will, another door appeared amidst the fog. It opened inward, swinging into some other parallel space. Past the threshold, the tide inched up the shore.

  “Use the rocks for cover,” Nicholae said before stepping through the open doorway.

  I didn’t wait for Nicholae’s signal to take out my weapon. I jerked back the slide to chamber a bullet and grazed my finger over the safety, not yet clicking it. The rest of the group followed my lead, all except for Mr. Gordon. He made no attempt to reach for his handgun.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Desiree. Her shooting hand shook terribly, and I hoped to God she still had the safety on.

  “Fine,” she said, but I knew she was far from fine. We held loaded guns in our hands. There were men on the far side of the beach below with orders to shoot us on sight. And we were expected to shoot back. This was real. This was life and death, not unlike other situations we’d already survived, but it didn’t make what we were walking into any easier. We weren’t trained soldiers. We were teenagers with last minute, CliffsNotes training. I looked down at my own hand, but it wasn’t shaking. It held my weapon strong and steady.

  “Stay behind me,” I said and followed Colton and Mr. Gordon through the door.

  Jeremy stepped through last.

  On the beach, we waded in freezing, knee-deep water. It was colder than the pond Desiree and I had swum in, and the wet pants clinging to my legs only made the shivering worse.

  The fog was less dense down the cliff. It covered the beach and the first few yards of water, but I could still see the ground and water beneath its gossamer veil.

  Nicholae threw out a hand and gestured for us to fall back farther behind the boulders protruding from the shallow water.

  Desiree squatted beside me, her head low to the water, gagging. She propped a hand on the slimy, algae-covered rock for support. Her skin had turned very pale. I lightly rubbed her shuttering back and she vomited as if on cue, which flowed past us like a gelatinous creature swimming for shore. The smell of vomit mingled with the salty air, putrid and thick.

  “I’m sorry,” she said after rinsing her mouth out with salt water.

  “Don’t be,” I said. I didn’t know how else to reassure her.

  “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.” If she died, then we’d both die. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself otherwise.

  Nicholae looked over his shoulder, back at us and said, “I’m going in. Cover me. Do nothing unless you see me go down. Not before.”

  We all nodded weakly. Mr. Gordon clapped him on the back. Nicholae looked his friend in the eyes with the emotional intensity of an entire non-verbal conversation, and said something I didn’t understand.

  Nicholae stepped out from behind the safety of the boulders and waded onto the shore. He reached the beach with no attempt to conceal himself. There was nowhere else to hide. He walked purposefully toward the platoon of soldiers amassed by the mouth of the cave. No one seemed to notice him approaching. He removed a pistol from each hip holster, clicking back one slide, and then the other.

  I rested my handgun against the boulder I was using for cover, and peeked around the corner of it to watch my young father stride confidently into enemy range. He walked tall and purposefully, exuding an aura of assuredness. I would have glanced back at our group, but not him. He was forever marching forward.

  The men Kafka had stationed outside of the cave talked amongst themselves, seemingly relaxed and unaware of the incoming attack.

  When Nicholae was only a few yards away, he fired the first shots.

  The group erupted in chaos. Men screamed. Bodies fell to the ground, some limp, some writhing in noticeable pain. Water washed up to some of the fallen bodies, cleansing the growing pools of blood from the rocks.

  Nicholae was in the middle of the chaos he’d created. Shots fired wildly. Men were thrown in multiple directions as Nicholae oscillated between hand-to-hand combat and shooting. Guns were ripped from soldiers’ hands and found themselves in Nicholae’s. The guns were then used against the very men they were supposed to protect. Nicholae had become a whirlwind of limbs, kicking, punching, and throwing the men all around him, creating an increased circle of fallen soldiers.

  Many of the remaining members of Kafka’s army began to retreat into the cave, seeing they didn’t stand a reasonable chance against their attacker. One man stood back however, not engaging in the fight, but not running away. He walked up to some of the fallen soldiers and knelt down to check their vital signs. Several of the men he examined jumped to their feet and sprinted into the cave.

  Once Nicholae had downed everyone attacking him, he reached an arm out to the last soldier running desperately for the mouth of the cave. The man was caught by an invisible hand that stopped and dragged him back to Nicholae. The man vehemently protested to no avail.

  Once the man was within arm’s reach, Nicholae ripped off the man’s helmet with one savage swipe, shoved a barrel to his temple, and pulled the trigger without hesitation. The man’s pleading was immediately silenced.

  Nicholae stared at the final man standing, a dispersion of corpses between them.

  The tall, thin man removed his black helmet and held it under his left arm. In his right hand, he held a pistol pointed toward the foggy ground. The bedlam of battle cries and gunfire was as dead as the bodies littering the beach. The only sound left was the crash of the breaking waves.

  “You’re too late, Nicholae,” the man said. His voice sounded soft due to how far away we were hiding. I had to listen carefully to hear his words clearly, but I was able to hear him.

  Desiree seemed to be trying to block everything out completely. She leaned her back against the rock. Some of her color had returned, but her skin still didn’t have its typical flush. Her eyes were closed, her breathing was slow and deep, and her clenched fist periodically rose to her mouth to suppress her gag reflex.

  “It’s okay,” I said to her. “Nicholae’s down to one other guy.”

  “He killed everyone else?”

  “More or less.”

  I turned my attention back to Nicholae and his last remaining adversary. The man had the presence and calm of a Lorne, but he wasn’t someone I recognized.

  “Malakye, you can’t stop me from going in there,” Nicholae said.

  “I know,” he said, making no attempt to attack, retreat, or block the entrance of the cave. “And I don’t need to.”

  Just then a gunshot fired from inside the cave, hitting Nicholae somewhere in the leg. I could see his weight shift, though he didn’t fall. He swung his gun up to his unseen shooter, and as he did, Malakye, with the speed and accuracy of a professional marksman, put a bullet into Nicholae’s second le
g.

  Nicholae fell back, taking several shots at Malakye on his way down, which either didn’t hit or soared safely through him.

  About half of the lifeless soldiers lying on the beach miraculously jumped to their feet and surrounded my injured father. Soon he was huddled in a fetal position, helpless to defend himself from the onslaught of boots slamming into his body.

  Malakye sauntered up to get a closer, more personal view of the beat down. A bald man with milky white skin emerged from the cave to watch as well. Cias.

  My rage overflowed. It was our time to move. Just as I was about to leave my hiding spot, Colton jumped out in front of me, dropped to the rocky sand, and started shooting. I glanced back at Desiree before peering around the boulder shielding me and taking aim. After steadying my hands and taking the deepest breath of my life, I emptied my clip into the general direction of Cias. Nothing seemed to hit him.

  “I knew you wouldn’t come here alone,” Malakye said, turning his attention to us.

  Jeremy was now shooting from behind a nearby boulder.

  Mr. Gordon stepped out into the open, standing tall, like Nicholae had.

  Half of the soldiers continued to beat Nicholae, and half of them began firing in our direction.

  Malakye fired two shots, with each bullet ricocheting off the boulders shielding Jeremy, Desiree, and me. As soon as I heard the sound of the errant bullets bouncing off the rocks, the boulders dematerialized, leaving the three of us vulnerable and unprotected. Desiree, who had been leaning against the boulder, fell backward into the water. Her arms waved wildly as she plunged into the ocean, only to reemerge in a gasping panic two seconds later. Her flailing arms showed that she’d dropped her gun in the fall.

  Jeremy ran for the beach and dove to his stomach next to Colton.

  There was nowhere left to hide. I lowered into the freezing water, crouching down as much as I could so that all but my head was submerged. I felt like I was enclosed in a block of ice, which made every movement agony. With my gun underwater, I didn’t even know if it would fire now.