I was running, my insides screaming at me to move quickly and without pause. I obeyed; my legs carried me forward even as my lungs threatened to collapse under the strain of frenzied breaths. I could sense James and Elijah running behind me and others just behind them. We had abandoned everything at our makeshift campsite, including Adam. As I realized that great evil had come over our home, so did the others. I had allowed my thoughts to become contagious. They were infected with my terror and knowing; though they did not understand what it was that was driving me, they did not question it.
Endurance that never ran out was another gift of our kind. We were able to run despite the pain in our chests and legs. We were driven by the sight…
The air was thicker, almost impossible to breathe but we were still miles from the house. In the sky, an ominous cloud of black smoke hung evilly and eerily, beckoning us forward while simultaneously provoking an urge to draw back. Don was yelling frantically. For a moment, I caught his mental frequency; he was fearing for those he was responsible for in his heart. It was shocking to find such concern for his people in Don Abba’s mind. It was admirable.
I was coming up on the runoff that had originally alerted James and me to the presence of the structure inhabited by Don and his people. Water rushed through the ditch with the same violent intensity as the fear in my heart. Before my eyes, the water rose, whooshing past with ominous power. I did not allow myself to fear falling in, despite knowing that if I did, I would surely drown. I leaped over the water and landed gracefully on my feet on the other side. I did not stop to mentally congratulate myself for making it or to marvel at my new powers that allowed me to make such a miraculous jump. I simply kept running, knowing that soon the bodies hanging from the trees would come into view.
The smell of the rotting corpses should have forced me to stop; I was inhaling the scent, allowing it to fill my nose and mouth with every harsh breath I took. But still, I ran.
We did this to ourselves, the cynicism inbred so deeply in me scoffed, How could you believe they wouldn’t retaliate when we’ve killed so many of theirs?
Get to Violet and Penny, my mother’s voice, warm and welcome, spoke over the snidely sympathetic bitch in me. I nodded in response to her invisible voice, my breaths raspy and my eyes wildly following the stars that danced in their sight.
I could not run when I reached the house. I could not move at all. I was firmly rooted to the spot in the wet earth, doubled over as I tried to draw in a necessary inhalation only to choke on the thick smoke that had stolen the oxygen right out of the space I was standing in.
The house was on fire, falling apart at the seams. Our people were running away from it, some screaming, some sobbing, some just wearing expressions of wide-eyed terror.
“Brynna, they hit us out of nowhere… they’re still here… they’re back there!” Rachel pointed back to the house. I looked at her with eyes that had turned over white. I no longer needed to breathe. I was on the hunt, ready for the vicious, fiery fight. Those men and women I had grown to care for no longer had a home. My sisters were amongst the mass of people somewhere; they were desperately afraid and crying out for me. Yet despite my close proximity, I could not feel their separate energies. They were far from me, farther than I could imagine.
I walked. The smoke in the air did nothing but sting my eyes, prompting tears to well but never fall. I was breathing not out of necessity but out of rage; I drew heavy, rasping, rapid breaths as I scanned the crowd of people running past me for any that were not ours.
Finally, when the last of our large number ran past, I saw not only several of the Bachums’ people but also several cave-dwellers.
Alright, I thought to myself for one brief, motivational moment, It’s on.
The roar that erupted from my throat sent them staggering backwards, tripping over themselves to run in the opposite direction, as far away from me as they could.
“They came back! They came back!” A man was shrieking in horror and waving his hands in a manner similar to what one would expect of a lunatic just freed from a straitjacket. “God help us!”
I caught up to him first, dropping down so that I was sliding on my side through the wet grass and slippery dirt. I spun my body sideways abruptly once I had caught up to him; my legs met his ankles and he tripped. He fell face-first into the dirt before throwing himself up immediately to crawl quickly across the ground. His scream was oddly similar to the sound of Penny's when she saw a spider.
Penny!
I grabbed his soaking wet hair; rain was cascading down from the heavens in an onslaught as violent as my own. After yanking his head backwards with a force that would have snapped his neck had I allowed it, I sunk my fangs deep into his shoulder and crushed the bone in my sharpened teeth. The shriek he let out would have made a better person back off. No good man or woman would be able to tolerate such a sound of agony. I bit harder and pulled backwards to rip part of the bone clean from his body.
“Where are they?!” I screamed in his ear deafeningly. I noticed a small rock jutting out of the mud; I slammed his head down onto it before pulling him up so his back was against my front. “Where are they?!”
“Who?! Who?!” He was sobbing now and struggling to free himself from my grasp. I pushed him forward again to hold him face-down in a puddle of thick mud and streaming water. With his face submerged in that puddle, he started gasping for air only to draw in mouthfuls of that dense, saturated earth. As he struggled to breathe, I observed the scene unfolding around me through the thick, almost blinding sheet of rain and smoke; James, Elijah and the rest of our vigilante crowd were fighting through the stream of bullets that were cutting through the air with no mercy. The sound of gunfire echoed against the trees that surrounded us, intermixing with the screams of the wounded, dying or under siege. I watched a man with a machine gun run past me, shooting wildly over his shoulder. I pulled the man’s face from the mud as I ducked; after lying all the way on my back while still on my knees, I used his body to shield me. His body jerked back and forth as it was riddled with bullets. I was lucky that none had gone straight through him.
Several of our people, even those not on security detail, were on the trail of the man with the machine gun.
I pushed the man off of me and crawled on top of him to find that he was still alive, but barely. His torso was protected by a Kevlar vest but given that he had no miraculous protective device to shield his neck and head, the bullet that had gone through his throat would surely be the end of him.
“Where are they?” My nose was almost touching his when I whispered fiercely again. “Where are they?!”
He was muttering a prayer to himself, making his peace with the Lord for all the evil he had committed in his life. Through the blood and mud that filled his mouth, I heard something about adultery, prostitutes, and that red-headed woman from camp whose name he could not remember. God, why couldn’t he remember? He had hurt her terribly.
The man was in a great amount of pain. I had been the one to inflict such profound suffering on him. Yet in his heart, I sensed no hatred for me. I sensed only regret; he was sorry that it had come to this. The revelation stunned me; it jerked my heart free from its proper place in my chest cavity and wrung it dry. I pulled away and ran one bloodied hand over my hair, urging myself to keep fighting, urging myself to believe those people were evil hypocrites who deserved to die…
“Come on Brynna!” I muttered out loud before slamming my hand down in the dirt. I had never had a moment of sympathy for anyone, including and perhaps especially, myself. Now, in battle, I was going to feel for another human being. I was going to question his motives, his very nature as a human being, instead of just killing him outright for what he and his leaders had done to our people and our home. My humanity, for the first time in my life, was getting the better of me. I had not even known that it existed in any remarkable capacity and in that moment, it was suffocating me.
“That’s it! Take the rest alive!” D
on shouted over the pounding rain, screams of agony, and despairing sobs. I had witnessed the fate of those that were taken alive. A swift exit from our world was an option that, in comparison, was worthy of being begged and bartered for. I turned back to the man who had turned over onto his side; the tears of pain that fell from his eyes scratched at my already raw heart with fingernails sharp enough to draw blood. I shuddered as I knelt beside him. I was soaked through with rain, covered in mud, bleeding from the fight; it was déjà vu all over again. I recalled bitterly the fight with the natives that had led my father to imprison me. I looked around at the others who had resided in our house; they revered our powers and celebrated them as gifts. I did not have to fear being prosecuted for no longer being human. If I were from the camp where the man dying before me was from, I would have been killed long ago. I pitied him even more; he had the potential to embrace great power yet was not allowed to. Perhaps was even unwilling to. His devotion to the Bachums and the higher power they acted in favor of had blinded him to the necessity of the change. It was very, very sad.
What provoked an even stronger despondency in my heart was that I knew the man would be healed only to be tortured. Several of our number were missing, according to Don’s shouts of rage. The survivors of the opposition would provide us with their whereabouts, whether they wanted to or not. Answers would be retrieved, by any means necessary. It would be excruciating for them both physically and emotionally; as they suffered unthinkable torture, they would also fear for the moment when it ended, for the end of their torment meant their death. It was so very cruel. It was so very senseless. I could not bear to see that man in any more pain. The only difference between us was one of opinion; that difference was certainly not worth killing one another over.
“I’m sorry…” He whispered when his eyes met mine.
I stared at him, not wanting to speak. I did not want to exchange any words with that man I had almost killed, whom I would see being tortured brutally over the following days.
“For what?” I said after gathering enough fortitude to speak.
“For your sisters…”
I would kill him. I would rip him to pieces if he did not elaborate. I needed to know what he knew. Where were they? What did the Bachums want with them? Why had he spoken of them?
“Not their fault… don’t deserve it…”
“Where are they? Where are they?!” I shouted again and in my rage, I jerked my hand forward to dig my nails into the open wound in his shoulder. He cried out, his entire body tense in response to the great agony. Then, his muscles relaxed and his face went slack. He collapsed on the ground, dead at my hands.
“Brynna! Where is Brynna?!”
Why in the world would Alice be demanding to know my whereabouts? I turned to find her running towards me, gasping with tremendous sobs. I shuddered at the show of emotion despite the situation. How very pitiful it was… Admittedly, the situation was one to bring forth harrowing fear and crushing sadness, but to show the world both through one’s tears was not admirable or useful in any way.
“I tried to stop them! I tried to get Penny and Violet back from them but they shot at me!” She screamed as she threw her arms around my neck. I smelled blood seeping from a gaping wound inflicted on her that I had not yet seen.
“Did they hit you?” I asked in a trembling voice. She nodded and pulled away to show me her arm.
“I did everything I could! Quinn went after them! He’s not fast because he got hurt but he’s going after them!”
“Which way?” James and Elijah had appeared behind us; James was the one speaking. “Which way, Alice?!”
“That way!” Alice pointed behind the house. James and Elijah needed no prodding, nor did I. Alice, despite her injury, was also ready to fight for my sisters. We all took off running, a deadly herd of terrified beasts hell-bent on killing those that had taken ones we loved so dearly.
We tore through the trees, stopping not when our bodies protested the continued assault of running without pause or even when we realized that we were alone in the forest. We just moved, smelling the air constantly for any trace of my sisters’ scents.
The only thing that could stop me was the realization that my sisters were gone, taken far from where I could reach. The joined landmass that gave Pangea its name was endless, larger than three of Earth’s combined land put together. I stopped running and my knees buckled beneath me. I breathed in and out rapidly, clawing the earth as I drew each shuddering breath.
“We’re going to find them, Brynna! I promise. I promise you, Brynn. I promise!” Elijah was saying to me, though I knew that he scarcely believed his own words. I threw my arms around his neck, my eyes wide in that potent terror that made breathing almost impossible.
“Oh, God,” I gasped out, “Oh, my God… oh God, oh God…”
There were no other words to convey the storm of feeling in my heart; regret, guilt, fear, sadness… I should have been there. I should not have left them alone. I should have seen it coming. Where were they? Were they going to be hurt? Were they going to live past the next day? On Earth, when someone was abducted, police and federal investigators gave the person a twenty-four hour window to be found before they could be sure that the worst had happened. In a day, would my sisters no longer exist?
Elijah lifted me into his arms and turned to carry me back to the house. I was petrified, frozen to him as the terror thrashed my heart from side to side, throwing it against the walls of my chest until it laid dormant, indefensible. I squeezed my eyes shut and realized that my entire body was trembling.
“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay, Brynn.” Alice’s voice, her hands rubbing one of my arms that were wrapped around Elijah’s neck…
Once we were back at the house, Elijah handed me to James.
“Eli!” I called after him, my voice cracking in the threat of tears. He turned back to me and put one of his hands on my face. “Stay with me!”
I was begging him shamelessly, needing him to stay close, where I could see him. Only seeing him would assure me that he was alright. Our sisters were gone, taken from us. I could not lose my brother, too. Together, we would find them. Together, we would make everything alright. I could not bear the emotional burden of fearing for my sisters’ lives without my brother.
“Watch her for me.” Elijah looked up at James, speaking with a softness in his voice, showing clearly a grateful resignation of his anger. He was ready to accept him. He was tired of hating him, of worrying that he was preying on me. James had proven himself to Elijah and as a result, had won his approval. I should have been relieved.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got her.” James replied and Elijah nodded, thankful for him being there to protect me. James was another set of eyes to watch over me, another body to keep me safe. He loved me, Elijah knew now.
I must have whimpered because James sat down on the cold ground so he could look me over. My wounds were internal, entirely emotional… They would not kill me, at least not quickly. I rolled out of his arms and knelt on the ground, bent over so that my arms were rested on the sopping wet earth. I rocked back and forth with my head hung. The sound I was making did not precede tears, though it certainly sounded like a torrent of them were ready to cascade down my face.
My Penny… my beautiful, precious, innocent Penny… I had raised that little girl. I had loved her when our mother and father had deemed her insignificant, when Maura turned away. I had done my best, at such a young age, to make sure she grew up happily, free from the same fear and resentment that plagued me.
Violet had suffered the brunt of my frigidity. I had loved her when she needed me to, only to cruelly pull away when I decided she was old enough to fend for herself. I owed her a thousand useless apologies. I owed her warmth every day for all eternity to make up for my coldness.
I would never get the chance because someone, for whatever reason, had decided that I could no longer have them. I was angry at the Bachums, at the cave-dwell
ers, at Adam, at myself, at God… I was furious at God. Why did my sisters have to be pawns in that ridiculous game of tug-of-war? Why should they suffer for Adam’s cruel entertainment? They had nothing to do with the war. I was the soldier fighting. They were merely innocent bystanders. But weren’t the innocents always the ones to suffer? The guilty always walked free. In terms of conflict both domestic and foreign, the innocent civilians were always the ones to be maimed or worse. The true threat, the one that pulled the strings and ordered for the violence to occur, never showed his or her face long enough to be hurt.
It was always the innocents.
My whimpering choked off suddenly to be replaced by a mighty scream that sent the huge blackbirds flying from their nests in the surrounding forest. Somewhere in the distance, a large cat roared, frightening the smaller wildlife even more severely. When my scream abruptly stopped, I drew another shuddering breath only so I could scream again.
“That’s it. That’s it.” Alice was encouraging me softly. I could feel her hand rubbing my back. “Let it out.”
Normally, I would tell her to leave me alone, invoking a certain obscene slang term for the act of engaging in intercourse followed by the word “off.” Instead, I only screamed again, my hand squeezing hers in a tight grip. It was as though my grasp on her was the only thing keeping me from plummeting into a dark, endless ravine. My head was still hanging forward, my mud and rain soaked hair covering my face. James’s hand was running down the back of my hair as he sat in front of me; I leaned forward and rested the top of my head against his chest. I felt Quinn’s hands on my back, too; he had found his way out of the woods and returned to us.
The terror that tagged along closely with uncertainty was driving me further and further to the edge. If they had not been there with me, urging me to exorcise those ragged, inflamed feelings from my heart, I would have fallen into insanity.
There was one fear stronger than the fear of death, I discovered. For some, the idea of dying was enough to bring them to their knees. To leave this realm meant to enter another we knew nothing of; the fear of the unknown had always been the anxiety-provoking element in humans’ thoughts of death.
The Shattered Genesis (Eternity) Page 70