by B.V. Bayly
Chapter Two
A repetitive low thud echoed in Gabriel's head. Each beat of his heart sent a pulse of pain through his body. Something crashed in the distance, and his eyes jerked open. He stared up through several broken beams, a calm blue sky above him – white clouds drifted by in a light breeze. Everything hurt; he was lying in a pile of rubble. Carefully he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Dozens of pieces of wood and bits of the old wall covered him. He ducked his head under the broken beams snapped in two above him, and crawled onto his knees. His last conscious memory was of the outer wall failing to hold him. He had fallen through the darkness and into the old empty cellar just off the side of the house. He surveyed the scene around him. Several beams had caved through from the floor above him. The structural supports should have crushed him, but here he was, still alive.
He crawled forward from under the tepee of broken wood and rose to his feet. He was sore, but nothing appeared to be broken. He surveyed the loose wood around him and ducked under several other large beams. He groped along the cellar walls, searching for something that could hold his weight. Finally, he found some compacted chunks of wall strong enough to hold and cautiously climbed up onto solid ground.
Gabriel twisted slowly on the spot; the scene around him was like a war zone. The tornado had focused its fury on the small ranch and left nothing standing. The barn had completely collapsed onto one side, leaving the livestock pinned under the wreckage, their bodies still and bloodied. Farm equipment had been picked up and thrown all over by the storm. Even the short, heavy steel water tower was tipped over on its side, water leaked out from the breaks in the steel walls.
He walked over to a small metal water trough strapped to one of the few fence posts left standing. His reflection bobbed in the still water, his face covered in a thick paste of bloody dirt. Breaking the image into ripples, he cupped the cool water and splashed his face. He continued to wash until the prickles of his day-old beard scratched at his finger tips. As he scrubbed his hands clean from the dirt and blood clinging to them, he remembered the searing pain he had felt in his chest. He placed his right hand over his chest and breathed deeply. There was no pain as he inhaled and exhaled. Thank God. As he pulled his hand back from his chest, a smear of blood marked his palm. What? He looked down. A jagged tear in his T shirt was soaked with blood.
He gingerly tugged the t-shirt over his head. He breathed deeply and gently pressed the area where clotted blood was caked onto his chest. It didn’t hurt. He pressed deeper and found something hard under the tips of his fingers. He swallowed hard and tucked his chin towards his chest for a closer look. A glint of light caught his eye. Puzzled by the flicker, Gabriel leaned over the trough, and washed his whole chest with water. The area was thick with dirt and clots of dried blood. Satisfied, he stopped and stared at his reflection in the ripples of the disturbed water. He froze. His lungs struggled to suck in air as he stared at his own reflection, every muscle in his body locked in fear.
A glow reflected in the surface of the water as the ripples calmed. The glowing white crystal was embedded in the centre of his chest.
He panicked, desperate to get the shard out of his chest. He clawed at the sides of the crystal to free it from his skin. This couldn't be happening. He stared down at it, a pulse of light matched the rapid beat of his heart. What had happened to him?
His father had told him that the ore killed. Any prolonged exposure would kill any living thing near it. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t even feeling ill. He touched his forearms; the dozens of jagged cuts had vanished. He reached around to his shoulder; the slice down his back was gone. He looked down at his chest and noticed his skin had completely healed around the ore – like it belonged there. It had merged with his body. How?
His pulse quickened as he recalled the series of events. The branch. The storm. The shelter. The stairs. The fall. Something wasn’t right. He was missing something. He was missing … someone.
He spun on his heels. “Mom!”
An empty silence answered him back. Nothing in the broken landscape moved. He pulled his shirt back over his head and sprinted towards the ruins of the house, hurdling over any debris in his path.
“Mom! Where are you?” He yelled so loudly it hurt.
Despite everything Nate had taught him about what to do in an emergency, he panicked. His breathing was erratic and his stomach cramped in pain. He spun around on the spot, and screamed again. “Mom!”
Pain seared his throat as he paused to breathe. He surveyed the destruction, searching for any sign of her. He ran towards where the kitchen should have been. Broken cupboards, chairs, dishes, and sodden drywall littered the area. He threw them in every direction until finally he found the stairs leading to the shelter. The door, broken into pieces, partially covered the top of the stairs.
His heart leapt with hope. “Mom, I’m coming down!”
Gabriel pushed debris out of his way and climbed down to reach the bottom of the stairs. He saw the grey steel door of the shelter and banged on it with his fist as he leaned against its heavy frame with his shoulder. The third hard shove on the steel door moved it. He looked inside the thin gap.
“Mom?” He pushed the large door open far enough to slip through. His eyes met a blanket of darkness, but as his eyes adjusted, items appeared before him: an empty cot, a shelf full of supplies, and a small table with two empty chairs. “Mom?” Why wasn’t she here?
He turned and left the empty shelter. He reached the sunlight and sat down on a pile of debris. He felt numb. Confused. Where was she? He began to shake, and his mind filled with the conflict of hope and loss.
He took several deep breaths, calmed himself, and stood. There had to be something. A clue. Maybe she had already left. He carefully navigated through the broken house. He recognized every shattered piece of his life. A picture he liked. A vase he made at camp as a child, still holding yesterday’s flowers. Bits of their couch. Broken dishes. His mother's trinkets from the third shelf on the wall. He didn’t stop to pick up anything. He continued towards the front of the house, where several of the largest walls had come crashing down, piling atop of one another, forming an impassable mountain of rubble.
It rocked under his feet as he stepped onto it. Better go back the way he came. As he turned, something caught his eye. Sticking out from under a wall, speckled with blood, was a piece of lime green material. It was the same color as his mother’s housecoat. He remembered it whipping in the wind as his mother held onto the section of broken wall in the kitchen. Gabriel saw her hand next, the smooth skin white with death. He collapsed to his knees and crawled towards it. He was suddenly dizzy. He swallowed hard as he reached out to touch the lifeless fingers. The cold skin shocked him. No! His jaw quivered. Tears burned his eyes, and he couldn’t catch his breath.
He clung to her hand. “No … No … Please, no!”
He had experienced death many times on the ranch, but as he held his dead mother’s hand, the world around him suddenly got darker. He stared at the enormous wall that had come crashing down, killing her. He threw his head back and screamed. A rage surged through his body, just like when his father had died. He shook his head, desperate to wake up from the nightmare. He leapt to his feet, grabbed the wall lying on his mother, and tried with all his might to lift it off of her body. His hands dug into the jagged edge of the broken wall. Blood dripped from between his fingers as he continued to struggle to free her. Debris slid away from the wall as it began to rise. Gabriel screamed as his arms burned with pain, they shook as the wall rose upwards. A blast of light erupted in his chest, searing him with a pain he’d never felt before. It boiled up and crashed across his chest, spreading out towards his arms. The portion of the wall he held broke off. He tumbled backwards into the rubble behind him as the wall crashed back down on top of her.
Gabriel burst into tears. He hurled the chunk of broken wall away and wailed in pain. He charged the wall and pounded at the metal siding wit
h his fists, leaving dents and blood all over its flat surface, until he could no longer swing his arms. He dropped to his knees, the rush of heat still building inside him. The fiery sensation crawled across his chest, down his arms and up his neck. Light coursed through his flesh, cracking through his bones and boring through every muscle. More light rolled down his arms like a liquid until it covered his hands. It spread, covering every inch of skin on his hands and arms. It slowly crept up his neck towards his chin. There was nothing he could do to stop it. The light surged with power – his skin was burning. Hot. Strong. Fierce. His body was being consumed. He screamed at the heavens as his tear-blurred vision filled with the strange, blinding white light.