Beyond Armageddon IV: Schism

by DeCosmo, Anthony

  The elder told her solemnly, "Not this time, missy. This time he can’t do it by himself."

  She did not know what to say. The surety in the man’s tone offered no room for debate.

  He continued, "I think I know everythin’, but this fella here, he’s been teachin’ me a bunch lately. Teachin’ me, ain’t that a hoot? Think I’m finally startin’ to understand a few things. And one of them is this; it don’t matter what fancy gizmos you give a guy, it don’t matter what neat tricks you play, sooner or later life ain’t something that can be lived alone. Sooner or later, everyone be needin’ someone."

  Nina thought she found a solution. "His wife. Ashley. Do I need to bring her here?"

  The Old Man stood still and silent for several long seconds. The crisp, hot smell of the fire chased away the lingering taste of dust that had dominated the room. Just as Nina felt compelled to speak, he offered words of his own.

  "That ain’t gunna do the trick, missy. Trev, here…well, he’s with who he had to be with; more like a job than anythin’ else. That’s part of the problem. I guess it’s better to be with no one than to be with the wrong one, ‘cause that only makes things all the more lonely. And both of them…" the Old Man coughed…or was it a sniffle? "…and both of them are all alone, even when they’re together."

  Nina understood…she thought. It fit, of course. Trevor Stone played the role of humanity's savior. Perhaps he had been forced into other choices that had not been his own.

  The Old Man finished, "So he’s layin’ here in a big mess. Maybe he won’t even wake up. That’d be for the best, you know? Maybe you should just walk away and leave him be. Tell everyone you didn’t find nothin’."

  Nina saw herself as a soldier, not a philosopher and certainly no expert on relationships or psychology. She knew something of loneliness, though. She tried to speak, but found her mouth had gone dry. Nina licked her lips, then tried again.

  "Can I…can I help? Some…somehow?"

  The Old Man turned to her with very serious eyes. She met those eyes with hesitation…and a tingle of fear.

  "Now, watch what you’re sayin’. You think ‘bout that now, missy. You think long and hard. There’s only one thing that can be done here, and it ain’t pleasant."

  She swallowed. "What can be done?"

  The Old Man leaned a little closer and spoke delicately. "He’s got a mind full of sorrow, of pain, of loss. Like I said, it’s like energy bouncin’ ‘round up there, overloadin’ his circuits. He can’t handle all that. He needs to…he needs to unload some of it."

  "What…what can I do?"

  "Oh, now, honey, be careful ‘bout what you get yourself into. To help him…I dunno…you need to…well you’ll need to open up to him. You need to take some of that burden out of his mind. Take it on your shoulders."

  "I don’t understand you," yet she worried she did.

  "But missy, you need to know. What he’ll be givin’ you…a whole lot of sadness. A whole lot of doubt and scared and worry. These are the things that have taken over his noggin’. Things stuck up there with nowhere to go."

  Nina felt goose bumps spring to life on her arms despite the persistent warmth flickering from the fireplace. Her heart beat fast.

  "That’s not possible. I mean, how could I even do something like that?"

  "You have to want to. Can’t force you to; can’t force no one to do that. But like I said, it’s all like a big ball of energy bouncin’ around. If you want…if you are willin’ to take the chance…"

  Nina staggered a step away.

  "I…I can’t. I don’t know how to…I…"

  Nina stopped her retreat, then shuffled forward and knelt next to Trevor on the couch.

  "Tell me," the old timer asked. "Tell me what you think of Trevor Stone."

  What did she think of him? She gazed at his silent and deceivingly peaceful person as she answered, "He always treated me with respect. Whenever we…whenever I met with him for orders or whatever…I mean…I’ve always felt I could trust him. And I knew—I knew—he trusted me."

  "And you’d do anythin’ he ordered?"

  She nodded.

  "And why did you go lookin’ for the truth about what happened to him? Why did you keep lookin’ even when people started tryin’ to kill you?"

  Nina ran the back of her hand over Trevor’s forehead, telling herself that she needed to check for a fever but knowing what she really wanted was to touch him.

  "He…he went looking for me once. I still don’t know why. But I was lost and he came after me. Besides, he deserves better than ending up like this, betrayed by people he trusted."

  "So let me get this straight: you respect him, you trust him, and you put your life on the line to find out what happened to him, huh?"

  Nina had not considered it in such broad terms, but as the Old Man summarized she nodded in agreement. Her heart thumped harder.

  "So now comes the 64-dollar question, missy. How far are you willin’ to go for him? You put your body in harm’s way, but can you offer more? How much are you willin’ to risk?"

  How much?

  Nina had spent her adult years risking life and limb in the National Guard, in the police force, in the post-Armageddon war. That had been easy. Her instincts, her abilities; they rose to equal the challenge of every fight. But her heart? Her soul? They remained safely locked away, touched only by the pangs of motherhood that had come with the adoption of Denise. A scratch on the surface but a far cry from full release. To Nina, emotions served only a hindrance.

  Relationships? She dabbled, but never felt comfortable giving of herself.

  Love? As a parent, she embraced the responsibility and the nurturing of Denise; a parent’s unique kind of love. But true love? Denise had been right; Nina knew nothing of real love.

  Now the Old Man asked her to open herself to ease Trevor’s suffering. To lift a storm of emotional energy from his mind and make his pain hers. Certainly in that process some of her—that part hidden away—would be shared, too. She could think of nothing as intimate and, as far as her memories allowed, she could not recall ever letting anyone so close.

  The idea scared her. She felt more willing to put her life on the line in battle than to put her heart on the line with another person.

  What if he rejected her comfort? What if she lacked the compassion he needed? What if she dug deep into the middle of her soul and found nothing more than the same warrior who lived on the outside? What if she simply did not know how to love?

  The Old Man said, "I can’t tell you what to do. And I understand if you go runnin’ off now and not give this a second thought. If I was you that’s exactly what I’d do, Hell yeah. Point being, you have to want to do it, missy. Not for the great ‘cause, not for your Emperor, but for Trevor…and for you."

  Her hand left Trevor’s forehead, stroked along his right arm and under the quilt until her fingers found his. She held his hand. It felt cold and limp, but alive.

  "He’s in pain," she said.

  "Yep. That he is."

  "I’m afraid."

  "Everyone’s afraid."

  "I…I," Nina fought to stay in control. "Am I good enough? I…I don’t know if I’m what he needs. I don’t know…"

  "He’s just a man. He’s done some pretty big stuff, sure, but no matter what I helped him with or what he had buried down in his genes, he’s just a man. Flesh and blood. Truth is, you exactly what he needs, Nina Forest. No one else. Just you."

  The cabin grew quiet save for the crackle of logs in the fireplace.

  Trevor’s eyes did not stir, but she felt his hand return her grasp, not tight but desperate as if searching for a life line. His cold palm began to warm from her grip; she felt a hint of strength in fingers that had been limp seconds before. All her doubt, all her questions evaporated.

  "Yes. I’ll do it."

  For him. For me.

  For us.

  The Old Man shuffled to a sitting position in front of the fireplace.
<
br />   "Hold him good, now, deary. Like I said, I’m not really here. Not like you think, that is. But that don’t mean I don’t have a trick or two up my sleeve."

  Nina sat on the floor, careful to keep Trevor’s hand in her own. She turned to the Old Man. He sat with his legs crossed and closed his eyes. She did the same.

  "Now…you just sit still…probably going to feel a little buzz, hehe. But look, ain’t nothin’ here but the two of you…just the two of you…"

  A feeling like static electricity built in the air above where their hands met, then spread up her arm. Her skin tingled. She could sense the bridge growing.

  An ache formed in the pit of her stomach. Her breath grew rapid but each gulp of oxygen failed to satisfy her lungs. She felt the pores on her neck drain sweat and her cheeks blushed with warmth.

  "What…what is…what are you doing?"

  The Old Man did not answer.

  "No… I’m not the person for this…"

  She did not know why those words left her lips, but they came from a growing feeling of being trapped. Not in a cell or a room, but something else.

  "I can’t do this! I can’t do this!"

  Her voice quivered and the strength that had carried her into battle after battle eroded. Shadows and phantoms moved in the darkness behind her closed eyes. Giant shapes, much larger than she. Towering above. Pressing down.

  "Not me! Not me!"

  Her head swayed. Her eyes shut tight. Her hand squeezed Trevor’s harder and he responded in kind.

  A flood of images broke through the dark. An eclectic collection that played as if it were a film, each frame a different picture. Cars and radios; a rich man staring out an office window. Helicopter control panels and technical schematics of all kinds. A soldier weaving through a dusty street firing a carbine. So many more that her mind’s eye could not keep pace.

  Her breath eased. Her lungs accepted the nourishment of each inhale. Her grip on his hand relaxed. Strength returned.

  She spoke, but did not know if the words belonged to her or Trevor.

  "I see…I know. I must do this. It is my responsibility."

  The flashing images slowed, allowing for better understanding.

  An attack helicopter flying over a desert. A professor building a solar panel. An army marksman hitting a distant target. A farmer planting his crop. A carpenter building a home. She not only saw those images, but understood them as if she had done it all herself.

  The picture show froze and faded, leaving the dark of her closed eyes again.

  "What happened?"

  The sweat on Nina’s neck chilled into droplets of ice. The blackness behind her eyes froze, becoming a wall of cold. More feelings came with that cold. Feelings of frustration; a frustration not unlike a parent dealing with children too young to understand.

  "I don’t have time for this! There isn’t time!"

  Nina’s face twisted. She bit her lip.

  "Why won’t they listen? You don’t know—I know! I know! Too much is at stake! Too much for this! Just do as you’re told. Listen to me, damn it! Listen!"

  She felt a sharp cold—ice—in her heart but at the center of it burned an ember of warmth.

  "No…no…this can’t happen. No, this is not for me. It’s not right. I won’t give in."

  Too late. The ice melted into a puddle and a speck of light glowed in the middle of the void. The ache in her stomach returned…but not so much a pain as a hunger. The light tried to take form. She could feel herself reaching for it, trying to touch.

  "Can I? Is it allowed?"

  The speck turned into a blob of golden rays shining comforting heat throughout. Her heart pounded faster and faster. Strength. So much strength. She felt…she felt invincible! As if muscles she never knew she possessed came alive with incredible power.

  "You have made me stronger than ever!"

  A welcoming, belonging feeling wrapped around Nina in a quilt of acceptance. She could feel that shapeless form lighting all of her; every dark corner and she accepted its searching glow willingly.

  "Yes…see all of me. I give it all to you."

  Nina had never felt such emotion. Her eyes stayed shut; her entire body relaxed as if floating on her back in a pool below a brilliant sun. Her body tingled and she felt another there…entwined with her to the point of becoming one. She lifted her chin and her lips parted in the slightest. A gasp eased out and her entire person quivered.

  "I…I…love…you…"

  Then the voices came. She could not hear their words, but the meaning broadcast vividly. They needed. They looked to her. A thousand questions all at once demanding a thousand answers.

  She felt pain. Not her own, but another’s. If only…if only she could take the glowing light in her hands and hold it. Comfort it. Chase away the pain.

  "Me…I did it…I am responsible…I am responsible…"

  She wanted to run away from the voices…and did. They faded and that tranquil quilt of comfort fell over her once more. She had found a quiet corner of her mind where she could hide but not be alone. No experience in her life could match that wonderful feeling.

  And then it fell apart.

  Not at once, but one piece at a time. One board. One plank. One nail. Pulled up and ripped away…a growing schism between where she went and where she wanted to be.

  "No! No! No!"

  Everything gone. The cold rushed in. The void drown away the light. Breathing became a labor. A salty sting built in the corners of her eyes. She lost control, bursting exhales like explosions of air. She became lost in the darkness again. The cold darkness.

  "This is not fair! This is not fair!"

  The good feelings—of warmth and comfort—faded so far as to be unreliable memories. The new cold felt more rigid than ever. It numbed her. Deadened the ends of her nerves…and slowly…morphed…into…

  Nina growled. Her free hand clenched into a fist.

  Anger. Bitter, horrid rage in its rawest form. Fury without focus. A whirlwind built in the darkness tossing unseen objects crashing and splintering and breaking.

  "Shall I be a monster, then? Is that my fate? Then I will be the most terrifying monster!"

  Legions on the march. Wave after wave; line after line; soldier after soldier. Tanks and planes; explosions and fires! It all boiled into one chaotic chorus played by Hell’s orchestra. The heat of the flames burned her inside and she relished every scar.

  "One after another you shall fall! My rage is my sword!"

  Flashing lights filled her mind; roaring destruction cut through the emotion and stomped it down…muffled it…disguised it…hid it…

  …but not for long.

  All the machines of war, all the sounds of annihilation could not keep the feeling at bay. It rose to the surface.

  Emptiness.

  The sounds turned off. She saw only black; heard only her breath.

  If only she had never known the joy, then the emptiness would not hurt so deep. Not a sharp pain; a dull one. Taken in doses, she could grow accustomed to it. She could live with it. But she could not forget it.

  Who am I?

  The question drifted to her but she could not be sure if it were her thought, or Trevor’s. The bridge had opened completely. She felt herself inside of him. She felt him, inside of her.

  The waves came. The waves implanted in his mind during his imprisonment. Hard peeks and deep valleys. Instants of happiness followed by horrific drops into sorrow and fear. One after another without end. A torture of unbelievable malice.

  Tears of joy warped into tears of sad. Relief into shock. Peace into turmoil.

  Nina grabbed hold of her consciousness. This storm had to be broken.

  She concentrated as best she could amidst the disturbing sea, searching her soul for the confidence and strength that had allowed her to stay true to herself even in the days when she felt so disconnected from the world.

  This is who I am.

  She found it. And gave it to him. Dropping
it into him as if it were a boulder cast into a raging stream.

  Take what you need from me. Hold on…follow me back to where you belong.

  She felt the desperation as he grasped at what she gave. He struggled to gain hold of it. And Nina knew she had yet more to do. That giving would not be enough.

  Nina released the dam. The sea surged into her.

  The torment of his broken heart; of his loneliness. The guilt for all the blood on his hands, for the cold decisions that sacrificed many to save more; for what he nearly became in another world. He had lived it time and time again in the belly of The Order’s sinister machine. So much, that it played over and over even with the machine gone. Now she lived it with him. Now she took it from him. Now it became a part of her heart.

  His torment…hers.

  His guilt…hers.

  Her body jolted. Her mind scrambled. Her mouth stretched open with a gasp that turned into a cry that changed into a forlorn wail. The cabin shook.

  Images played once more. Images of…Nina in his mind. Images of Ashley. Images of Trevor’s son. Images of the other Nina.

  Trevor, trembling on the sofa, opened his eyes wide. His lips quivered and he gasped for air.

  The weight of the deluge crushed Nina. Her heart broke a thousand times. She lost everything again and again.

  She felt herself drowning…

  ---

  The Eagle transport appeared over the treetops, glinted in the dawn sun, and then descended into the clearing at the front of the cabin.

  Nina Forest stood by the porch door with Odin lying nearby. She held the radio in her hand. She gave only passing thought to how the radio miraculously worked that morning after having failed during the night.