by Bryan Davis
“Shhh,” Ashley said. “Don’t waste words. I am hideous. There is no denying it. … Here is the reason I wanted Ashley to speak for me. … We have not yet finished this race. Billy needs us, so I’m going to keep fighting this disease, no matter what. I have been weak and impotent, and my inability has stabbed my heart, especially my failure in the crater. But the spirit of Clefspeare still lives in this decaying shell, and when I recover, I will go to war to save our son.”
Marilyn caressed Jared’s wrinkled cheek. “That’s my Jared. But it might take a long time for you to get your strength back.”
Ashley nodded. “There is a way for me to recover more quickly. I put the information in an encrypted file in Larry. I believe Lauren will be successful, so when I begin to heal, ask him for the data.”
Jared closed his eyes. His breathing grew shallow and rasping.
“Jared?” Marilyn stood and slid an arm under his back. “Let’s boost him up so he can breathe better.”
Candle leaped to the other side of the bed and helped her lift Jared to a sitting position. Within seconds, his breaths came easier through his gaping mouth, though still rattling.
“He’s asleep,” Ashley said. “I’m not getting any more thoughts.”
Marilyn sat again and held Jared’s hand. “Thank you, Ashley. That was very helpful.”
“Can I get you anything?” Candle asked.
She nodded. “Water. Thank you.”
Candle hustled to the vestibule and closed the door behind him.
Ashley drew back and pulled Walter away. “We’d better leave them alone for a while.”
“I agree.” Walter swiped a tear with a knuckle. “I thought for a minute there we were going to lose him.”
“Me, too. At first, I thought he wanted to communicate a final good-bye. I don’t know if I could handle that.”
Walter nodded at Irene. “Maybe you should see if she wants to say anything to Doc.”
“Ashley!” The door to the vestibule burst open, and Listener ran into the room, breathless. “They’re gone! Lauren and Eagle!”
Walter caught Listener’s arm. “Gone? Through a portal?”
Nodding along with her flashing companion, Listener pointed up. “Through the museum room ceiling. They just disappeared, first Lauren and then Eagle. It was too dark to tell what happened to them. The portal hole closed, and they were just gone.” She withdrew a phone from her pocket and held it in her trembling hands. “I found this on the floor. I was wondering if it might—”
“I’ll look.” Ashley snatched the phone away and began pressing buttons with her thumbs. “The camera’s recording. Let me see what it’s captured.” After a few more clicks, she called out, “Found some photos!” She stopped pressing buttons and squinted at the screen. “I can’t believe it!”
Walter shifted behind her and looked over her shoulder. A photo of a young black teenager appeared on the screen.
Ashley’s eyes opened wide. “Derrick?”
“Derrick?” Walter blinked at her. “The boy who anchored the candlestone dives?”
She spun to Dr. Conner and showed him the screen. “Doc! Isn’t this Derrick?”
He turned away from Irene and looked blankly at the phone. “Yes, that’s Derrick.” His voice was melancholy, barely above a whisper. “He’s Eagle now. I watched him grow up here. When he was about fourteen, I knew it. No need to tell anyone. It seems that resurrections are normal here.” He sighed. “A true irony, I think—a blind boy becomes known for his sharp vision, which explains why he often hummed ‘Amazing Grace,’ though I think that song is foreign to the people here.”
Staring straight ahead, Ashley whispered, “I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see.”
“Weren’t we all?” Dr. Conner nodded and turned back to Irene, again stroking her hair. “He saved a wretch like me.”
Blinking away tears, Ashley began pressing phone buttons again. “I found a video. It’s the last thing on here.”
She pushed the play button. On the screen, Lauren climbed the ladder, wearing a backpack and carrying Apollo. Something to the side sent a wash of light over her.
Candle hurried back in and gave Marilyn a bottle of water, then watched the video with Walter and Ashley.
“Lauren’s carrying the soil,” Walter said. “She’s heading up to the portal leading to the volcano, right?”
“Right.” Ashley sped the video to double speed. Lauren climbed onto a support beam, slid out to the center, and made Apollo flash. The portal opened to a moonlit sky. Lauren knocked Apollo over, sending it tumbling. When it clattered, Ashley winced but said nothing.
“So she’s going to throw the stuff in.” Ashley pointed at the backpack. “But Doc told her it needed an eruption. Timing it would be impossible.”
Listener squeezed close to Candle and peered at the phone. “Not if she jumped in,” Candle said.
Walter turned toward him. “What?”
“Mount Elijah erupts when someone falls in. That’s what Valiant always told us.”
“She …” Listener pressed two fingers over her lips, her voice quavering. “She must have jumped in. She disappeared, just like I said.”
“Look, Walter.” Ashley pointed at the screen again. While Lauren stood on the beam, Eagle scaled the ladder, churning his arms and legs. Garbled words shot from the tiny speaker. Lauren leaped from the beam and disappeared.
Ashley gasped. “Walter! She did jump!”
“I know!” Walter stalked away from the phone and paced in the aisle between the two rows of beds. “I can’t believe this. Valiant’s dead. Legossi’s dead. Billy and Bonnie and Matt are missing. And now Lauren’s …” Choking up, he couldn’t finish. He just stuffed his hands into his pockets and kept pacing the floor.
“Oh no!” Ashley stared at the phone, her mouth agape.
“I was right! Eagle jumped, too!” Listener dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hands. “How can this be happening?”
While Candle helped her up, Walter stepped toward them. The ground shook, knocking him off his feet. The beds rattled but stayed in place, their bolts holding fast to the floor. Whimpers and gasps filled the room. Doc held Irene in place, while Marilyn hugged Jared close. Gabriel shouted from his bed, “Everyone hang on!”
A rumble sounded, deep and long. Walter leaped up, ran to the vestibule, and looked out. In the distance, lava spewed from Mount Elijah high into the night sky. More lava rolled down its slopes, red and glowing. “It’s blowing its top!” He stalked back to the dorm. “Let’s get this hunk of machinery off the ground!”
* * *
Albatross beat his wings frantically. No longer shooting ice, he lifted over a boulder, touched down for a moment, and bounced over a mound of smoking logs. He repeated the bouncing and touching again and again, screaming in agony every time his feet and wings brushed the ground. The ends of his wings smoked, then caught on fire. He continued his sporadic leaps, banging into burning logs and scraping the tops of boulders.
Lauren hung on with all her might. With every bump, Albatross’s body twisted and lurched. Gut-wrenching screams burst forth, but he surged on—flailing, bouncing, and heaving gasps. Fire combined with the moon to cast bright light everywhere.
Lava stormed down the slope and spilled over level ground. From the crater, flaming rocks spewed in every direction, like missiles arcing to the ground and exploding into thousands of fiery fragments. Hot pebbles rained on Lauren’s back and slid off her flame-retardant sweatshirt. She raised her hood and shouted, “Go, Albatross! Go!”
Albatross leaped over the final boulder and skittered across flat lava rock. Sizzles erupted at his feet. He tripped and fell to his chest, sliding and scraping. His momentum slung Lauren forward. Flailing with her arms and pumping her legs, she flew through the air. She landed with a thump on her bare feet, absorbed the impact with her knees, and ran until her momentum eased.
; She spun back to Albatross. He lay twitching on the field, smoke rising from his burning wings. Lava drew closer and closer. She took a hard step toward him, but the ground shook once more. She lurched in reverse and backpedaled on the burning rocks to keep from falling.
Lava poured over Albatross’s body. Flames burst from his scales and covered him in seconds. More fiery missiles rocketed down from the shattered cone, hurtling toward Lauren.
She stood and stared, her legs locked, her arm and head throbbing. She whispered, “Albatross?”
Joan zipped up to her nose, flashing red. Run! You have to run!
Holding her hood up, Lauren spun and ran toward a rising slope in the distance. Joan zoomed with her, floating above her shoulder. Explosions rocked the field. Flaming grit rained all around, pelting Lauren’s head and back. An ember struck Joan and drove her to Lauren’s shoulder.
She snatched Joan, clutched the heated shell, and sprinted with all her might. Finally, the storm of debris stopped. Lauren slowed, turned, and walked backwards, her legs stiff. While staring at the lava flow, now turning toward a lower elevation, she opened her hand to let Joan cool. Smoke poured over the field like a morning mist, blinding but not caustic.
She stopped and drew the egg close to her eyes. Something sizzled. Although the ember hit Joan pretty hard, the shell hadn’t caught fire, so the noise couldn’t be the crackle of flames. Yet, the outer part of the shell formed tiny bubbles, as if wrinkling from heat. “Joan!” Lauren’s hand shook uncontrollably. “What’s happening? Are you all right?”
The egg pulsed with a dim blue light. A bare whisper emanated, fragile and quivering. I am unsure, mon amie … I know not what is happening … I hear voices … Joyful singing … Someone cried out with rapture that … that your fiery ordeal is complete.
The egg split from top to bottom, revealing a blinding light within. “Joan!” Tears spilled from Lauren’s eyes. “You’re breaking! What do I do?”
Nothing … All is well …
The egg crumbled, leaving only a figurine—Joan with her arms outspread and her face to the sky. I see angels … My precious angels … Oh, mon amie! They have finally come to take me home!
Sobbing, Lauren stared at the lovely little image of Joan, so beautiful as she stood on tiptoes and reached toward Heaven. Lauren! My glorious Jesus has spoken to me. Now I know I am in a state of grace, and so are you! Forgiven! Welcomed into his embrace! Let us rejoice!
Joan lifted from Lauren’s hand and floated slowly upward. As she ascended, she turned to Lauren, her smile wide and her arms still outspread. I will see you in Heaven, my dear friend. Be brave. Death is a conquered enemy. All fear is gone.
Lauren swallowed through a tight lump. “Good-bye, Joan. I … I love you.”
Like a feather taken by a breeze, Joan floated into the sky, her light slowly fading as she flew out of sight. With tears dripping, Lauren stared at the glow, her hand still open.
When the light disappeared, she dropped to a crouch, wrapped her arms over her head, and sobbed. “Oh, Joan! My dear companion!” Spasms throttled her chest, forcing halting gasps. “What am I going to do now? … How can I go on without you? … I lost my mother … my father … my brother … Eagle … and now … and now you! … I’ve lost everyone! … I was supposed to … to be the one to sacrifice … the one to face the fire, but now … but now I’m still alive … and Eagle is dead … and no one even knows to look for me.”
As she wept, images flashed to mind—Joan striding into Abaddon’s chamber, white flowers in her hair; Albatross squealing with delight when she complimented him; Matt collecting leaves as he worked desperately to heal the Second Edeners. All three marched forward in their faithful journeys without knowing what lay ahead. Two had perished in flames. But what had become of Matt?
Wiping tears, she straightened and turned away from Mount Elijah. A bare field of cooling lava from the previous eruption stretched out ahead. A few fallen trees and boulders lay in sight as well as a thin curtain of smoke. In spite of the visual obstructions, the hospital shouldn’t be too hard to find if moonlight kept the way illuminated. Maybe Matt was there by now. Maybe the new parasite had already floated that far, riding on the wave of smoke.
She breathed in the sooty air. Although it carried a choking odor, it wasn’t as bad as before. Maybe this eruption carried healing along with harm. Time would tell. So far, it had brought only death.
Tears still trickling, Lauren kissed her palm. “Au revoir, mon amie. I will look forward to seeing you again.” Then, squaring her shoulders, she limped into the smoky field.
* * *
Dr. Conner jumped up and joined Walter in the aisle. “It’ll take just a minute to lift off. If you’ll secure everyone, I’ll—”
“Wait!” Listener called. “Don’t leave! There’s no more top to blow off. The lava shouldn’t come this way.”
“Shouldn’t?” Walter pointed toward the volcano. “Listen, that lava means business. We can’t afford to take a chance.”
“But we want the anthrozils to breathe the fumes,” Ashley said. “If the eruption expelled the new parasite, it’s their only hope.”
Walter smacked his palm with a fist. “Then we fly right into the smoke.”
“Our patients can breathe it.” Dr. Conner strode toward the rear of the dorm. “But we’ll need filters for the others. I have surgical masks.”
“Doc, no!” Ashley pointed toward the front of the hospital. “Get us off the ground. I’ll take care of the filters.”
“Then secure everyone. There are belts on the beds.” Dr. Conner hustled toward the front of the hospital.
Walter and Ashley hurried from bed to bed, lifting straps over patients and refugees and buckling everyone in, including Gabriel, Irene, and Marilyn, who was now lying with Jared.
Listener ran toward the vestibule. “I’ll get the other dorm. Steadfast is there. He’ll help me.”
“Tell everyone to get under the covers,” Ashley called as she worked. “Everyone except the anthrozils.”
“We will.” Listener grabbed Candle’s wrist, and the two hurried through the doorway and out of sight.
With all the beds full, Walter pulled Ashley to the floor and grabbed a bed frame. “Just like riding a dragon. Hold on tight.”
Ashley curled an arm around the leg of a bed and leaned her head against Walter’s. “I suppose Listener will be all right.”
“She’s been riding dragons since she was little. She’ll be fine.”
She half closed an eye. “Will you be fine?”
“Me? What do you mean?”
“I know you too well. As soon as we’re in the air, you’ll be at the door searching for Lauren and Eagle.”
He smiled. “You’re right. Anything wrong with that?”
“Only that they’re both probably dead, and you shouldn’t risk your life. I know that won’t stop you, so …” She kissed him on the cheek. “Just be safe.”
The airplane engines roared to life. Propellers whirred. The hospital shifted for a moment before lifting from the ground.
Walter slid his hand into Ashley’s. “Let’s go breathe some parasites, shall we?”
* * *
Lauren staggered through the darkness, coughing and gasping. With smoke veiling the moon and the land covered with lava rock, the entire world looked dismal—shadowy outlines on a deep purple canvas. Only the barest light glowed from the volcano, now far to the rear. How could anyone possibly find the hospital or the portal to the museum room without more light, especially in such a strange world? It would be like trying to catch flying bats while blindfolded.
Her bare feet padded on the spongy soil. Hot air shot up her pant legs and across her arms, making her sweat. Earlier, the flow from her pores had been profuse, but now very little trickled. With the sweatshirt again tied around her waist, she rolled up her short sleeves, hitched up the shirt’s hem, and tied it at her ribs. But not even that did much to
cool her parched skin. The torrents of hot air from below wouldn’t relent even for a second.
She licked her cracked lips. With no more fire danger, maybe tossing the sweatshirt away would be best. Still walking on stiff legs, she began untying the sleeves. Her wounded arm ached and tingled with numbness. Every movement hurt. Lying down was out of the question. The lava rock would burn her to a crisp.
Finally, a slight breeze cleared the smoke somewhat, making breathing easier. A buzzing noise came from above. Plodding slowly, she looked up and searched for the source. Barely visible through a hovering layer of smoke, a blinking light passed by, floating along with the drifting sound, but nothing took shape. It seemed to be heading toward Mount Elijah, so it couldn’t be the hospital. That wouldn’t make any sense at all.
Her toes slammed into something hard. She staggered back and squinted. A pile of fallen trees stood in a head-high pyramid. She touched one of the logs at chest level—warm but not hot.
Lifting her leg high and grabbing the stub of a limb, she hoisted herself up and climbed to the top of the pile. As she balanced, the pile shifted but quickly settled. She sat with her legs dangling over the side, untied the sweatshirt, and hung it on the stub below.
She rolled up her pant legs and lay on her stomach. With her cheek pressed against the bark, she hugged the top tree. A breeze blew over her half-exposed back. Ah! That was better! Finally some relief! Still, with no water, she couldn’t stay long. She would die of thirst.
As she rested, she looked at her shoulder where Joan usually perched. In the hazy moonlight, her gaze met only a bare arm protruding from a rolled-up sleeve. The void plunged a dagger into her heart. Was Joan happy now? Surely she was, finally resting from her labors. She had hoped for Heaven for centuries, and now she likely rejoiced with the other martyrs who had blazed a trail before her.
And what of Eagle? Since he was here in Second Eden, that meant he had lost his life for a second time. Maybe he, too, would go to be with God forever. With such a sacrificial heart, the young man who hummed “Amazing Grace’ would receive grace, wouldn’t he? And finally, what about Valiant? Maybe all three were already celebrating their heavenly resurrections, wondering why people on Earth and Second Eden were so worried about their troubles. It all ended in a glorious reunion for everyone who understood the meaning of Jehovah-Yasha.