Beyond the Reflection's Edge

by Bryan Davis

  His father laid a hand over his heart. “I make you a solemn promise that your fall will be softened enough to prevent all injury. If you trust me, you will put aside your fears and take a step in the progress of your faith. If not, you are free to turn around and come down. I won’t be angry if you decide not to jump. It would just mean that you’re not quite ready for this step.” He raised a clenched fist. “But I believe in you. I think you’re ready.”

  Scuffing his shoes against the gritty surface, Nathan edged to the precipice and looked down. Only bare concrete lay at the bottom, no sign of a trampoline, mattresses, or a net of any kind. Anyone else would think he was crazy for even considering such a feat. And besides that, what father in his right mind would ask his son to do anything so crazy?

  He nodded. Solomon Shepherd would. Although his father’s training methods were unique, no one could say that Nathan was unprepared for the dangerous adventures that often faced him. And this next step would be yet another preparation. If he could overcome fear, the next death-defying leap would be much easier. His father had never failed him before. It didn’t make sense to doubt him now.

  Taking a deep breath and holding it, Nathan jumped, keeping his eyes open as he plunged. The dark concrete seemed to transform, changing rapidly to something with more depth. His feet struck a soft, rubbery surface, like dense gray foam. It bent downward, slowing his momentum until he touched the ground as gently as if he had been placed there by a loving hand.

  As the material began to bounce back, he leaped to the side and landed on the grass bordering the driveway. Waving his arms to keep his balance, he groped for something to catch. A strong hand clutched his wrist, steadying him. Nathan swung toward the grip and caught sight of his father.

  His eyes glistening with tears, his father wrapped Nathan in a powerful hug. “Never forget two things,” he said, his voice shaking. “One, you are a courageous young man. And, two, as God gives me strength, I will always keep my promises.”

  A scratchy voice broke Nathan out of his reverie. The driver announced the next stop from a hidden speaker, but it was too garbled to understand. As the train rounded a curve, the front half bent into sight, every car slowing as it approached a well-lit platform. A dark-suited man passed from car number two to three and limped toward the back of the train.

  Nathan shook Kelly. “Time to go!”

  “What?” She jerked away from the window and wagged her head sleepily. “I had this horrible dream, I —”

  “Later.” He crouched and pulled her into the aisle. “Gordon’s found us.”

  6

  THE ROAD HOME

  Staying low, Nathan and Kelly scuffled behind a partition next to the side exit door. As the train slowed to a crawl, Nathan peeked past the rows of seats to the car directly in front of theirs. No sign of him yet.

  “Ready to jump?” he asked.

  Kelly took in a breath and rocked back and forth on her toes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The train finally came to a halt. Gordon burst through the door between the two cars and limped toward them, aiming a handgun. “Don’t move or you’re dead!”

  Nathan froze. Kelly grabbed his arm, her hot breaths puffing against his neck as the side door slid open.

  Gordon pressed the gun barrel against Kelly’s brow, the purple vein on his forehead again pulsing. “Give it up, or I’ll blow her brains right out of her skull. Just come with me. Mictar wants to see you.”

  With a quick slap under Gordon’s wrist, Nathan pushed his weapon arm straight up, then kicked him in the groin. Gordon bent over, and as he tried to aim the gun again, Nathan kicked him in the face, sending him in a backwards somersault through the aisle.

  Nathan grabbed Kelly’s hand, lunged for the loading platform, and hit the ground running. They scrambled down the stairway and sprinted along a sidewalk in a construction zone, leaping over broken concrete and dodging orange barricades as a few streetlights guided their way.

  He spotted a dark alley across the street. “That way!” he said, pointing. While waiting for several cars to pass, he looked back toward the ‘L’ station. Gordon limped down the stairs and gazed at the sidewalk in the other direction.

  “I don’t think he’s seen us yet.” Bending as low as he could, Nathan pulled Kelly along as he crept across the street and into the alley. In front of them and on both sides, brick buildings stretched to four stories high. A fire escape rode up the wall to the left, similar to the metal stairway they had used for their earlier getaway.

  He eyed the horizontal bridge that would serve as the first flight of stairs … if only he could grab it and pull it down. Hovering at least a dozen feet off the ground, it might as well have been a mile in the sky.

  Scanning the dark alley he spotted a trash dumpster several feet away from the fire escape. “Think we can push the dumpster under it?” he asked as he strode toward it.

  Kelly stood under the ladder and looked up. “If we do, he can use it to follow us.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. He was limping, so he might not be able to jump.” Setting his hands on the side of the dumpster, Nathan gave it a hefty shove. It budged an inch or two.

  Kelly hurried over and leaned her shoulder against the worn-away lettering on the back. Looking up at him, she said, “On three. Ready?”

  Setting his feet, Nathan gave her a nod. “Ready.”

  “One … two … three!”

  Nathan pushed with all his might. As the dumpster slid, the metal bottom screeched against the pavement. He pulled Kelly back, stopping its progress. “With all that noise, we might as well send up a flare and shout, ‘We’re over here!’”

  “Think it’s close enough for us to jump?”

  “We have to try.” Nathan climbed the dumpster and perched on the edge closest to the fire escape, still a few feet away from being directly underneath the ladder’s bottom step. Bending his knees, he jumped and latched on to one of the rungs, but the rusted stairway wouldn’t come down. Grunting as he swayed, he looked back at Kelly as she moved into position on top of the bin. “It’s stuck!”

  She jumped and wrapped her arms around his waist. With a squeal, the ladder eased down a half inch, but stopped. Swinging her legs back and forth, she forced their bodies into a sway.

  Nathan tightened his fingers over the rung. They ached, slipping a fraction of an inch with every swing. As the hinges continued to whine, the stairway eased down in rhythmic pulses until Kelly’s feet touched the ground. Now loosened, the bridge descended the rest of the way.

  They dashed up to the staircase level, waiting for a moment as the bridge elevated again, its hinges still squawking a rusty complaint. Careful to keep their footfalls soft on the metal steps, they hurried up to the top of the building and ducked behind a parapet, a three-foot-high wall that bordered the entire roof.

  Stretching out his numbed fingers, Nathan peeked down at the street. Dr. Gordon, keeping a hand in his jacket pocket and swinging his head from side to side, skulked into the alley.

  Nathan jerked back and whispered, “He’s down there!”

  “Did he see us?”

  “Hard to tell.” He crouched and duck-walked toward an access hatch at the center of the roof, rising to his feet as he drew near. He tried the latch. “Locked.”

  Kelly bent low and joined him. “If he thinks we’re up here, he’s bound to find us. He’ll just come up the stairs on the inside.”

  Nathan pointed toward the far side of the building. “Not if we can get to the next roof.” They hustled to the opposite parapet and scanned the gap between the buildings. “It’s gotta be fifteen feet across!” he said. “Maybe more!”

  “So we’ll get a running start.” She backed up to the access hatch and sprinted toward the edge. Leaping up to the parapet, she launched her body across the gap and touched down on the border wall on the other roof, but her foot slipped, sending her tumbling forward. She disappeared behind the wall.

  Nathan gritted his teeth. Now h
e had to go for it. Kelly was probably hurt, and there was no other way to help her. Besides, she had shorter legs. If she could do it, he could do it.

  Copying her approach, he ran from the roof access and vaulted over the gap. As he sailed in a high arc, time seemed to slow to a crawl. He glanced below. The alley floor had to be forty feet down! Ahead, the border wall drew closer, but he was already past his peak and descending.

  Stretching his leg forward as far as he could, the toes of his boot landed on the outer edge of the wall. As his momentum carried him forward, he bent his knee and jumped again, propelling him over Kelly’s crumpled body. When he came to a stop on the gravelly roof, he ran back to her and stooped at her side. “Kelly! Are you okay?”

  Turning her body face up, he cradled her in his arms and brushed gravel out of her hair. Blood streamed from a scalp wound, forking into three rivulets that traced across both cheeks and over her nose. She blinked her eyes open and dabbed the wound with her finger. “I must have landed wrong.”

  He shifted her to a sitting position. “Can you get up?”

  “I think so.” She lurched forward, and, with Nathan’s help, rose to her feet. As she swept more gravel from her pants, she turned back to the other building. “I guess we’d better lay low for a while in case he shows up over there.”

  With their backs to the parapet, they sat side-by-side on the roof, low enough to keep their heads out of sight. A pair of sirens wailed in the distance, one somewhere in front and another, farther away behind them. Now high above the street-lights, only the glow of a half moon and a single exposed bulb next to this roof’s access door illuminated their surroundings. Still, it was enough to reveal the damage. Blood oozed into Kelly’s ear and dripped from her lobe, falling into her hair and clotting before it could reach her shirt.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Nathan asked. “That’s a nasty cut.”

  “I’ve had worse.” She touched her scalp and winced. “One of Dad’s basketball buddies plays like a gorilla with razor blades for elbows. He caught me square in the nose once. I bled like a stuck pig for almost an hour.”

  Nathan grinned. “So that’s why you jump like a kangaroo. All that basketball.”

  “Yeah. At least it’s good for something.” After staring straight ahead for a few seconds, she nudged him with her elbow. “Hey you were awesome again. Nice kick.”

  “Thanks.” He squirmed, trying to get comfortable on the rough surface. “I thought you might be mad at me. It was a pretty risky move. He could’ve shot you.”

  “I was mad. For a second, I thought you were nuts. But you really showed your stuff.” She scooted a bit closer and folded her fingers into a fist. “Was that karate?”

  “An ugly form of karate. I’m not much good unless I catch someone off guard, and he kind of left himself open.”

  She smirked and nudged him again. “Left his jewels unguarded, huh?”

  “Um … yeah.” Nathan let out a nervous laugh. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

  Her smile melted into a frown. But what could he say? He wasn’t used to hearing a girl talk like that. The other girls he knew would’ve blushed if anyone talked about male anatomy in mixed company but Kelly acted like she wouldn’t flinch walking through the guys’ locker room during shower time.

  He settled back and folded his hands on his stomach. “Okay so we’re back in Chicago, but it looks different.”

  She glanced at him, arching her brow. “Different? How?”

  “Didn’t you notice how people are dressed? One guy looked like a disco hall reject. And the cars … I even saw a Pinto. The only place I’ve seen one of those before was in a junkyard.”

  “I saw the disco guy. Did we … travel in time?” She seemed to have a hard time even saying the words.

  Nathan shrugged. “Maybe it’s some kind of parallel universe or something.”

  “You say that like it happens all the time.” She altered her voice to a deep southern drawl. “Hey Buford, what did you do today? Same old stuff, Bubba. Went through a mirror and visited another universe. How ‘bout you?”

  He laughed and let his gaze drift toward her. As blood continued to trickle between her gleaming eyes, she seemed the picture of startling contrasts — humor and femininity packaged in toughened leather. She was right. He was pretty calm about the whole thing. She didn’t seem too flustered, either, though she had good reason to be. She didn’t share his advantage. Hanging around his dad got him used to crazy stuff happening, though his confidence took a big hit when he saw him lying in that coffin. Still, that dash through the city seemed to get his juices flowing again. Maybe he was getting his moxie back. “I guess I felt pretty confident, but more like the guy whistling while he’s walking through a graveyard. Maybe I’m just pretending I’m not afraid of ghosts.”

  “Speaking of graveyards, I didn’t tell you about the dream I had on the train. I was standing in front of the coffins, but not on that stage. It was a funeral with flowers and music, and that Mictar guy came up behind me and put his hand over my eyes. It burned like fire, and I fell. Then I floated above my body and could see myself on the ground. My eyes were completely burned out of my skull.” She shuddered. “It was awful.”

  “I hate nightmares. I’ve been having them, too.” The article headline flashed in his mind: “Nightmare Epidemic Continues.” What could it have meant? Should he mention it, or would it just scare her more? He looked up at the night sky. With lights streaming from a hundred directions, the haze seemed to glow, as if emanating a light of its own. It seemed heavy … close. Too close.

  “Well,” Kelly said, giving him a slight nudge, “we can’t just sit here.”

  He angled his head toward the building on the other side of the alley. “We have to be sure Gordon’s gone, then we should try to get back home, maybe through the mirror on the stage.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Nathan! Remember the picture of my house? The cottonwood tree was smaller.”

  “And greener, too.” He drew up his knees and draped his arms over them. “I know what you’re thinking. It feels like a summer night, so the tree’s bound to be exactly like it was in the picture.”

  “Right. I say we should go to my house and see if the girl in the picture is there. She’s probably the key to the mystery.”

  He interlocked his fingers. “The answer has to be linked to the coffins somehow. We have to figure out that part of the puzzle.”

  “I’ll bet they were murdered by Gordon and that Mictar guy. Remember what they said about the burglar and the girl?”

  “Think it’s the same girl?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  “Okay, so we head for Iowa.” Nathan reached for his back pocket. “No wallet. We don’t even have bus fare.”

  She set her arm in a hitchhiker’s pose. “We have thumbs. We can bum a ride.”

  Nathan looked over the side of the building and saw a bank clock. Five past midnight. “Who’s going to give us a ride this time of night, especially with you bleeding like that?”

  “I guess we’ll see who’s brave enough.”

  She started to rise, but Nathan pulled her back down. “Let’s stay put a little while longer. At least until we’re sure Gordon gave up.”

  For the next half hour, Nathan and Kelly chatted quietly. She prodded him for stories about his adventures, and after each tale, she asked for another. His final story involved his and Clara’s escape from a terrorist in Saudi Arabia. They zoomed on motorcycles down rough stone staircases and through filthy alleys teeming with rats until they vaulted over a deep channel their pursuer couldn’t cross. When he finished the story, Kelly’s mouth hung open for five full seconds. Finally, she swallowed and said, “Take me with you next time. I want to go for a ride like that.”

  Nathan rose to his feet and dusted off the seat of his pants. “Maybe you’ll get a chance sooner than you think.” He walked to the roof access, a wooden door in a small dormer that rose about eight f
eet above the gravel. Although it was locked, a hard kick from his boot splintered the jamb and banged it open, revealing a steep flight of dimly lit stairs.

  He tiptoed down. Kelly followed close behind, clutching his hand. After the narrow first flight, the stairwell widened and brightened, finally coming to a dead end at a metal door. He pushed it open, revealing the seating area of a delicatessen, now closed for the night and illuminated only by the streetlamps outside.

  Looking at her bloodstained fingers, Kelly nodded toward the restrooms. “Let’s get cleaned up before we hit the road.”

  After washing, the two met at the front door. “Easy enough to get out,” Nathan said, turning the deadbolt, “but we can’t lock it up again.”

  “So the manager loses a little pastrami from his fridge. Hell survive.” She pushed the door open. “You worry too mu —”

  A loud siren blared, pulsing a horn that vibrated the windows.

  “A burglar alarm!” Nathan yelled. “Run!”

  They rushed out to the sidewalk and headed for a crowd of people streaming from a corner pub about a block and a half away. Just before they reached the next street, Nathan pulled Kelly to a halt. “Just play it cool. We didn’t steal anything.”

  Slowing her breathing, she looked up at him. “I’m not worried about the cops. I’m worried about Gordon. That alarm would wake the dead.”

  As they ambled toward the pub, a police siren whined in the distance. Nathan pointed at the customers who were still filing out, some laughing, most staggering. “Let’s just blend in with them. No one will know.”

  “Except that we’re underage, not acting drunk, and don’t smell like booze.” Kelly wrinkled her nose. “We don’t smell like it, but we could fake being drunk.”

  He pulled her into the doorway of a closed bail bond office. “I wouldn’t know how to fake it. I’ve never been drunk.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not exactly a shock, Nathan.”

  “Have you?”

  She nudged a dark bottle on the doorstep with her shoe, then leaned over and picked up the bottle. “Tipsy enough to know what it feels like.”