Eve of Redemption

by Tom Mohan

  She stretched her aching muscles and moved to the doorway. She carefully stuck her head out into the stairwell and looked in both directions. There was no sign of Kyle, but the torn webs told her he had continued down the way they had been going. She thought about calling out to him, then thought better of it and followed the signs of his passing. She arrived at the bottom of the stairs and paused to study the long hallway. Footprints, that she assumed to be Kyle’s, continued straight ahead. There was no sign that anyone else had been down here in a long time.

  She began to take a step, then paused. Something felt wrong. Who am I kidding? Everything feels wrong. Why should this be any different? She studied the dusty passage. One set of footprints, leading away from her. There was plenty of dust, but what about spiderwebs? The stairway had been full of them, but the passageway was clear. Even the corners in the ceiling looked clean. Strange.

  Sara had two choices—go back and wait for Kyle where he had left her, or follow his obvious trail. Never having been one to wait around, she chose to go on. She followed the lone set of footprints until she came to a spot where another set joined them from the other direction. She studied the new set of prints and saw they were identical to the first. Kyle must have backtracked for some reason. Studying the disturbed dust, she came to the conclusion that Kyle had returned to this point before turning and going back the way he had come, away from the staircase.

  Sara continued down the dim passage, feeling like she was being watched. She had learned to trust her instincts. All indications told her she was alone in the passage, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. She continued until all the prints ended at a wall. Was this why Kyle had turned back? But why return? She studied the prints at the base of the wall. They were scuffed, but she was pretty sure he came back to this point.

  A sudden chill sent goosebumps up her arms. She spun around, reaching for her dagger.

  “Hello, Sara.”

  Kyle stood less than three feet from her, a stupid grin on his dirty face. “Kyle! You scared me!” She held her dagger up before her. “I could have killed you.”

  His grin broadened. “I doubt that.” He held his own dagger up.

  She wanted to back away, but the wall behind her prevented it. How had he snuck up on her like that? “Where did you come from?”

  Kyle tossed his head to the left. “Over there. There’s another passage.”

  “I didn’t see it.”

  “Neither did I, at first. But that changed.” Something in his voice sounded off.

  She was growing more uncomfortable by the second. His eyes looked strange, almost like they belonged to someone else. “Changed? How?”

  “I found the other passage. C’mon.” He turned and walked away. Sara hesitated, not sure whether to follow him. The wall against her back reminded her that she really didn’t have any choice. They walked back to where Kyle’s original footprints had been joined by his return tracks, at which point Kyle abruptly turned and disappeared into a dark opening in the wall.

  Sara gawked in amazement. She was certain that door had not been there before. A quick glance at the dusty floor distinctly showed Kyle’s footprints leading into the opening at least twice. How had she missed these prints the first time? They were obvious, as was the door in the wall. Sara knew her mind was still muddy with exhaustion, even after the brief nap. Still, she couldn’t have missed this. She followed Kyle’s tracks to the dim opening and peered inside. It was nearly identical to the first, with light crystals spaced at wide intervals along the walls and curtains of spiderwebs hanging from every surface. The appearance of the webbing made her more than a bit nervous as she thought back to the creature that had captured them in the tunnels beneath the Keep. Kyle, however, seemed not to worry as he moved through them, cutting a path for her to follow.

  Sara stepped into the passage. The chill she had felt when Kyle had slipped up behind her pervaded this space. It was not the natural chill of a subterranean passage. She was familiar enough with those from her time spent in the Keep. This was like a living thing that surrounded her, a part of the air through which she passed. She shivered as she imagined something alive and sentient passing through her body while she passed through it at the same time. If Kyle felt it, he showed no sign. He continued to pass through the spiderwebs like they were not even there. But something about him was off. His walk was not the smooth, rolling gate with which he’d strutted around as long as she’d known him. It was stiff, like his knee and hip joints had locked up. He’s probably just sore from all we’ve been through. However, he had been fine when they had stopped to rest, and if anyone was in even better shape than she, it was Kyle.

  They had not gone much farther when Sara saw a bluish glow on the webs. A door stood before them, pulsing with light like a heartbeat. The heart of the castle. An inscription was chiseled in the stone in a script Sara did not recognize.

  “Enter ye into the land of the dead.”

  Sara turned toward Kyle. “What?”

  “That’s what it says. Enter ye into the land of the dead.”

  “How do you know what it says? I’ve never seen that language before.”

  Kyle shrugged. “I must have seen this somewhere. You’re not the only one who reads, you know. I spent my share of time in the libraries of the Keep.”

  Sara didn’t remember ever seeing him in the library, but she didn’t feel like arguing. She placed her hand on the door, fingers spread. It was warm beneath her touch.

  Warm. Pulsing. Alive.

  She pulled her hand away. An audible click sounded, and the door swung inward just enough to clear whatever latch had held it.

  “It didn’t do that when I touched it,” Kyle said.

  Now that the seal was broken, strange noises could be heard from the room beyond. Though muted by the heavy door, the sound brought a feeling of dread to Sara’s pounding heart. She was close, she could feel it, but she doubted she was strong enough to finish this. Her goal lay ahead, and yet she found herself unable to push the door open. Icy sweat covered her body, freezing her in place.

  “Well? Are you going in?”

  She wanted to say yes, that she was going in, but the words remained locked in her throat. Kyle reached out and pushed the door farther open. The shrieking of voices in such misery as could never be imagined slammed into her. The land of the dead, the inscription had said. Yes, the dead awaited, and these particular dead held the promises of hell. Sara took a step back, ready to turn and bolt, when Kyle grabbed her arm and shoved her through the door. A putrid blast of air slammed into her. Sara’s shriek was drowned out by the cries of those who had come before her. She spun to get out just as the door slammed in her face. The living door continued to pulse as her hands slid over it, searching for some way to get it open, but she found none.

  Kyle had betrayed her, and now she was trapped.

  Josiah cursed as he spun back toward the door, where the sound of the monsters’ approach could be heard quite clearly.

  “Such language, Josiah.”

  Red stood at the edge of the broken platform. No, not at the edge—over the edge. She was standing in mid-air, staring at him with a look much too serious for a girl her age. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Where’s who been?” Hank asked.

  “Not you,” Josiah said.

  “This ain’t no time for games, Josiah.”

  “Zip it, Lynx,” Hank spat. “Is it your angel? Can she get us outta this?”

  Josiah waved his arms at his gang. “Would you all just shut up a minute?” He turned his attention back to Red. “Well? Can you help us?”

  The little girl shrugged, her baggy potato sack dress lifting and falling with her tiny shoulders. “I can help, but you have to do the work. Are you ready? Are you really ready to find out what true faith is all about?”

  Josiah swallowed. He had known since that day at the lake that this was coming, he just didn’t think it would come so soon. He glanced around at the people who
had been his life. Right here, right now, he was their leader. He was the one they were looking to for strength and guidance. He had waited his whole life for an opportunity like this. He only wished Raquel was here to share it with him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  The little girl smiled, almost in reverence. “Songs will be sung of you, Josiah.”

  Josiah gulped. No pressure there.

  “Reach out, Josiah,” Red said softly. “Reach out to God, offer yourself to him, that you may serve his purpose.”

  Josiah felt the eyes of everyone on him, waiting for him to tell them what to do. Instead, he stood there, gazing off into space. Then he began to pray. “Lord God, I’m just a man, a sinner. I don’t know you, God, not like I should, but I need you now. We all need you real bad.”

  “What’s he doing?” Lynx asked.

  “Shut up, girl. He’s praying,” Hank whispered harshly.

  Lynx laughed out loud. “Praying? We’re about to have our heads licked off, and Josiah’s praying?”

  Josiah forced himself to tune out the voices. “Father God, I…I offer myself to you, to do whatever you want with me. Go on and use me however you need.” Josiah felt warmth flow through him. Though he could never have described it, he knew what it was—love. Love like few humans in all of history had ever experienced. At that moment, Josiah knew the God of the universe loved him just as he was. Without thought, he held his arms out and tilted his face toward heaven. He would do anything for this being that loved him so.

  “Stop that,” Lynx said. “Stop wasting our time, and do something.”

  “What’s got into you, woman?” Hank asked. “This is what we’ve lived for. What we’ve ridden for. What happened to your faith?”

  “My faith’s just fine, but stop…this…now!”

  Josiah heard the hate and desperation in Lynx’s voice. He opened his eyes, not even remembering closing them in the first place. They were all staring at him. Spec, Hank, and Lynx—but not Lynx. He was seeing her, seeing the shape of her, but something lurked beneath that shape. Something that was not Lynx.

  Hank cursed and pointed toward the door. The monsters had arrived, their long razor tongues lashing at the air. Josiah felt the beginnings of a breeze tug at his clothes. Lynx, the wind, the monsters, all here, yet he felt separate from them, as though a great chasm stood between him and the shadow of the world around him. Deep inside, Josiah felt a profound sadness for the monsters. The feeling confused him until he realized it was not of himself but of God. Just as the figure of Lynx contained a shadow of someone else, so did these horrifying beasts carry the shadows of others, souls of those who would never see the light of Heaven.

  Josiah raised a hand toward the advancing monsters. The hand glowed with a golden light that caused the monsters to flinch and fall back. To Josiah, the light was comforting, like warm arms wrapped around him, but the beasts shuddered. Their tongues whipped the air uselessly while low moans escaped their dark throats. The wind became a gale, but he was not bothered by it. The sadness—that bothered him. It was beyond anything a human should ever experience.

  Truth.

  The word echoed in his mind, and he saw that the light was indeed revealing the truth. The world shimmered around him and became transparent. Real but not real. There but not really there. He looked down and saw the platform on which he stood, saw the dizzying drop to the ground below, yet at the same time saw his feet planted on sandy, solid ground. The light of truth revealing what was and what was not. He saw it all.

  Josiah heard a shriek of rage from his right and saw the shimmering form of Lynx-not-Lynx tearing at her face with the ferocity of something desperate to escape. The golden light hit her like a spotlight, revealing the truth of her existence for all to see. The others were bathed in it as well, and Josiah could see expressions of torture on their faces as the truth of their lives was revealed to them. Each had a lifetime of sins to account for—some known to them, others exposed for the first time. They all expressed anguish and self-loathing at the things they had done. All except Lynx. She writhed furiously as the light peeled all traces of falseness from her. Josiah knew the rest of the Rebels were undergoing a cleansing. They were good people who would repent and be new again. Only hate and rage poured from Lynx.

  With a quickness that defied Josiah’s slow-motion view of events, the Lynx-thing leapt at him. He saw a gleaming flash, then felt something sharp and cold bury itself in his chest. He fell back, gasping as the light left him, and he collapsed to the hard ground. His startled eyes looked up at his attacker, who was no longer Lynx. As his vision faded, the others pulled the person off him. Then he saw nothing at all.

  BURKE LASHED OUT with the power that threatened to tear him apart. The monsters on each side of Caleb shrieked in pain and rage as the flesh was stripped from their bodies, leaving nothing but tormented shadows in their wake. These shadows writhed in the air for a moment, then fled in all directions, leaving behind only their fading screams. The air shimmered and pulsed around him as Burke advanced on his grandfather. Caleb took cautious steps backward.

  “I would advise you to be careful right now, Johnny. You don’t want to harm me. That would not be a good idea at all.”

  Burke almost laughed. That was precisely what he wanted to do. The power flexed through him, begging to be released. He reached out, searching for guidance, but guidance was not offered. Is this a test, he wondered? A test to see how he handled such power? Still, he received no answer.

  “No, you need me, you see, Johnny. You need me to get you to your daughter.”

  Burke stopped his advance, every fiber of his being tense. Sara? Could this thing really take him to his daughter? Burke had forced himself not to put too much hope in the promise that Sara was alive, but to hear it again, even from this horrible man, brought hope to his weary heart.

  “Ah, I see I finally have your attention. That’s good, Johnny boy. I’ve waited a long time to reunite the two of you. My life’s work has been about this moment.”

  Burke’s mouth was dry. “Your life’s work?”

  Caleb smiled, though his eyes remained lifeless. “You might say I’m a collector. I have been collecting a long time now. Since long before you were born.”

  “And you collect…what?”

  “If I told you, it would spoil the surprise. We can’t have that now, can we? But I promise, you shall find out soon enough. Yes, my boy, you shall find out everything when you meet your lovely daughter again. And I must say, she is lovely. It was all I could do not to add her to my collection. She would have been a prize worth keeping, I assure you. Still, in the end, she shall be the centerpiece.” He laughed, and Burke wanted to throttle him for answers that made sense. Burke lunged at him, but the old man spun in a half-circle and disappeared.

  Tiny’s burned form lay on the floor, his beard mostly gone, as was a good portion of his hair. Blisters rose on his bright red face. What caught Burke’s attention, however, were Tiny’s eyes. His eyelids opened, but there was nothing behind them. The man’s eyeballs had been burned away. Burke hurried to kneel beside the biker, opposite Raquel. “How is he?”

  “Not good.” Raquel held Tiny’s hands, more to keep him from putting them to his seared face than for comfort. That she could so easily hold him down was not an encouraging sign. “John, his…” The way she opened her own eyes wide told Burke what she meant. He nodded.

  “Don’t whisper, girl. I’m right here,” Tiny said in a weak voice. “Can’t look much worse than I did before, now can I?”

  Raquel forced a smile. “It’s an improvement, actually.” She turned away from Tiny’s charred face. “Um, John? You’re glowing.”

  Burke held one hand up before his face. Sure enough, the light still radiated from him. Looking through the light at the wall beyond, he thought he saw two different images. He waved his hand and moved it closer to the wall. “What do you see?”

  “Not a blasted thing,” Tiny said.

  “Sorry, Tiny, not you
. Raquel, what do you see?”

  Raquel moved to get a better view. “Just the wall. Your light makes it look, I don’t know, kind of not there.”

  Burke concentrated to see if he could make the light brighter. Nothing happened.

  Truth.

  Truth? What did that mean? Before, the light reduced the monsters to mere shadows. Did that mean they had only been shadows in the first place?

  He tried again, but this time he concentrated on finding the truth. This time, the glow brightened.

  “The wall,” Raquel said. “I can see right through it. I see the town we were in and our bikes! Tiny, our bikes are out there.”

  “I don’t think this wall’s real,” Burke said. “At least, not how we think of real.” He put his hand against what had once been a solid wall. At his touch, a large section faded away, revealing the desert ghost town into which they had been chased.

  Raquel stuck her arm out, and it passed through the illusion. “I feel the sun. We can get out.”

  Burke helped her drag Tiny through the opening but made sure he kept himself inside. “Try to find help. Tiny needs medical attention as soon as he can get it.”

  “What about you? You’re coming too, aren’t you?”

  Burke shook his head. “I have to find my daughter.”

  “You can’t believe what that thing said. He was lying to keep you from tearing his head off. You can’t believe any of that.” She waved her hand in the direction of the building.

  “Everything has been leading up to this. Whatever happens, I have to try to find Sara. I have to. I couldn’t live with myself if I left without knowing for sure.” Before she could respond, Burke pulled his hand away from the wall, and the stone reappeared. A moment later, the glow faded, and he sat in the dark. After the flood of emotion and power, he suddenly felt lost. His gaze fell on Martinez’s body. How many more would have to die?