by B.V. Bayly
Chapter Four
Gabriel felt a large, heavy hand on his neck. The sensation sent goose bumps across his skin. His muscles twitched as he awakened, and he struggled to open his eyes against the bright light of day. The face of a stranger with a huge red beard and matching fluffy red hair filled his vision. Instinctively, Gabriel smacked the hand away and rolled over onto his hands and feet, crouching like a cat. The huge man stumbled backwards, his face full of shock. A yelp echoed out as a small man behind him fell over the rubble.
Gabriel stared at the strangers. “Who are you?”
“Relax, son. My name is Brett O’Connor and this Carl Ellis. We work for the state, as part of the disaster rescue team. We're sent in to give assistance to anyone in need after a severe storm happens. We're here to help.” The big man spoke as though he was reading from a piece of paper. “Are you okay? That was an awful big storm that hit your farm.”
“The clouds … I watched it come towards us across the plain. I tried –” Gabriel stared down at his hands, drifting away from the conversation. My hands – that light.
“The storm hit a pretty big area.” The little man – Carl – leaned against Brett’s side as if he was stuck in his back pocket.
Brett handed Gabriel a blanket. “Here, wrap yourself up. You might be in shock.”
Gabriel pulled the blanket tightly around himself and let it drape down like a cocoon as he rose to his feet. Still unsure of the two strangers, he eyed Brett suspiciously. The large man towered over both Gabriel and Carl.
“Who else is out here? What family might still be around?”
Gabriel froze as Brett’s question pierced his heart. Mom. His eyes stung. His vision blurred with tears. Unable to speak, he turned and pointed at the thin white hand reaching out from under the huge wall.
“My … my mom.” He swayed.
A large hand gently came to rest on his shoulder, holding him steady.
“Come on son, we will get her out of there … I promise.” Brett gave him a gentle push and guided him out of the house, away from the rubble.
Carl rushed ahead of them and pulled a pile of plastic out of a box in the truck. He dragged it off to the side of the road and through the tall grass, away from the wreckage of Gabriel’s home. It expanded, unassisted, into a small tent.
Brett stepped away from him and nodded to Carl in approval. “I want that medical team and the heavy equipment here now. I don’t care what HQ says! You get them here ASAP!” Brett’s shout echoed in Gabriel’s ears. When the tent finished expanding, Brett motioned for Gabriel to enter. He obeyed and sat down on one of the inflated cots. Brett knelt before him, putting them eye to eye.
“Is there anyone else out there?”
“In the barn. I didn’t see him before the storm … Nate might … I … I dunno. He’s our ranch hand.” Gabriel felt shattered.
“Alright, son, you stay here and we will do the rest. Just lie down – more help will be here soon.” Brett gently patted him on the shoulder. “I know it doesn’t mean much right now, but you’re lucky to be alive.” With that, he left Gabriel alone in the tent.
Gabriel wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the ranch became a hive of activity. Several different rescue teams arrived. Everyone stared at him as they passed by. No one could believe he had survived. Even Gabriel didn't understand how. He stayed alone in the tent with only Brett coming in occasionally to check on him. The giant of a man constantly assured him that a medical team was on its way and Gabriel should just lie quietly and wait. He curled up into ball, feeling safer with the blanket wrapped tightly around himself. His hand rested against the shard. Its surface was warm, giving off a small pulse of heat with each beat of his heart.
Why am I alive? The ore kills people.
He breathed in deeply, feeling the weight of the crystal rise and fall safely in his chest.
That light. The pain. My hands and arms – my skin felt like I was burning alive. Was that how it starts? Is that what it feels like as it kills you?
Gabriel struggled to figure out what had happened to him. Nate had once told about certain people who had a connection to the ore. They were special. The ore acted differently around them. Was Gabriel one of them? He did his best to remember what else Nate had said. “These people are special, even rarer than the ore itself. They’re called ore users. Most of them hide, if not their killed. The Church of Humanity executes them for being abominations. TERA steals them and, cuts them up to figure out why they’re like that. I’m not really sure what to make of them.” A chill ran down Gabriel’s spine.
No one can know. A terrifying future played in his mind. Him, strapped to a table, a bright operating light burning into his eyes. The heads of scientists moving between him and the light as they prepared to examine him. Tools readied to dissect him and take the crystal. It would be more valuable to them than he was.
The front of the tent opened, startling him. Brett squeezed through the doorway. “Well, son.” He breathed out loudly and cleared his throat. “No one on the team has found anything alive. None of the animals in the barn survived. I’m not sure about your ranch hand, we've cleared out as much of it as we can. I doubt anyone could have lived through it. I’m sorry.”
Gabriel felt numb – if numbness even was a feeling. He thought about Nate. Gabriel had still been pretty young when Nate had moved into the barn. He remembered first seeing him standing at the front door with a silver chest. He'd given Gabriel’s mother an envelope. She had wept as she read the letter and then allowed him to move into the barn. Gabriel never really knew why Nate was there, but, as the years passed, it didn’t really matter. Nate was family. He was the one who had shown Gabriel everything – how to punch, shoot a gun, drive a tractor, fix machinery. Every skill he had was because Nate had taken the time to teach him, but now he was gone.
“With all the livestock and mess in there, we need to spray the barn area down with some pretty nasty chemicals. It’s just gonna become a big bio hazard if we leave it. Was there anything you wanted out of there?” The large man waited.
Gabriel ran his fingers through his dark hair, combing out some chips of wood. “You guys find a silver trunk? A strongbox?”
Gabriel had asked Nate many times over the years what was in the chest, but Nate always gave the same answer, a smile and a ‘don’t worry about it’. It was important, alright. It must have been if Nate had guarded it all of these years. He didn’t know why, but if Nate was dead, Gabriel wanted it.
“Not sure, I’ll double check with the boys.” The big man nodded and left the tent. Eventually he returned, carrying the silver strongbox.
Relief surged through Gabriel as Brett set the chest at the end of his cot. “Want anything else, son? We’re about to start spraying.”
He shook his head and sat up on the cot to look at the metal box. Locked. Gabriel eyed the mechanism on the lid. Nate had taught him how to pick simple electronic locks. This was more complex.
“Well?” Brett stared at him.
“Sorry … I don’t know where to begin …” Gabriel shrugged.
“It's alright. We’ll put aside anything salvageable and make sure it goes in the storage container.” Brett nodded and left the tent.
Gabriel was mentally making a list of things that might have survived, when a new vehicle pulled into the long driveway. The blanket slid off his shoulders as he stretched his neck up over the tent wall to try and see what was coming. Unable to get a good look, he pulled the blanket back around him and stood up to peer through the open entrance.
The sun reflected off the vehicle’s windshield, stopping him from getting a good look at it until it neared the plastic tent. It was a white ambulance.
Not good.