The truck coasted to a stop in front of the rubble that remained of their barricade. Only the charred hood and shattered windows of the semi were visible beneath the mound of blackened wood. Adam breathed a sigh of relief and killed the headlights.
“Well…” he said, looking across the console at Phoenix. “I guess we’d better start unloading.”
He threw open the door and climbed down to the wet sand.
“It’s about time,” Evelyn called down from the top of the wreckage.
When Adam saw her smile, he wanted to sprint up the hill and embrace her, but he suppressed the urge and waited for her to descend. Missy was right behind her, while her brother and Jill were only beginning to crest the rugged slope.
“What did you bring me?” Evelyn asked. She wrapped her arms around Adam and brought him to her, allowing his arms to fold around her, his chest warm against hers.
“Nothing fancy, I’m afraid.”
“I’m just glad you made it back safely,” she said, leaning her forehead against his shoulder so he wouldn’t see her tears, which had caught her by surprise. She thought she had control over her emotions, that she was content with whatever she and Adam shared, but she couldn’t help how she was feeling. She bit her lip and steadied herself. When she released him and stepped out of his arms, the tears were gone. “Did you see anyone or…anything else?”
“Only what was left of the others.” He looked away. “They never had a chance.”
“You can’t keep blaming yourself.”
He forced a smile, but it was only for her benefit.
“We’d better get the supplies off the truck,” he said, turning and starting toward the rear of the trailer.
Evelyn caught up with him and took his hand. Together they joined the others, who were already climbing up on the tailgate and into the open cargo hold to begin the arduous task ahead. The rear of the unit was packed with mounds of clothing and blankets. Mare stood to one side, Phoenix to the other, both of them tossing the wares out onto the sand. There were coats and snow pants, shirts and jeans, unopened packages of socks and underwear. Behind was a small mountain of wooden dowels like those that had been sharpened and used to repel the Swarm. There were battery-powered lanterns and crates of replacement cells, a pile of rolled sleeping bags, behind which was a wall of cardboard boxes.
“Oh my God,” Mare said. “Is this what I think it is?”
He hauled down a large box and tore back the flaps. His eyes lit up when he reached inside and pulled out a small, rectangular blue box. In his hands he held what once was commonplace, but now was one of the greatest treasures in the world.
“Macaroni and cheese,” he whispered.
“It gets better,” Adam called up to him, laughing as he grabbed a bundle of clothing from the ground and started his trek toward the cave.
“Cheetos!” Mare’s voice echoed through the valley.
This was exactly the reaction Adam had been hoping for. All those hours of rummaging through storerooms, the mental and physical strain of the heavy lifting both ahead and behind, the eternity behind the wheel…all worth it. Who knew what the morning would bring, but this was a night to celebrate. Let everyone eat their weight in noodles and junk food and then climb into a padded sleeping bag. Let them remember, if only for this one night, what it felt like to be alive.
Adam set his cargo against the rear wall of the cave and walked back out onto the beach. Above, the stars shined down upon him, granting a momentary glimpse into the heavens. After everything they’d been through, after all of the death and pain, in that one precious moment, all felt right with the world, as though the pall that had hung over them for so long had finally been lifted. He smiled at Orion and followed the North Star along the handle of the Big Dipper. There would undoubtedly be more hard times to come and the ultimate battle that Phoenix promised, but in this one frozen moment in time, it felt as though God was smiling down upon them.
“Mmrmphew doon?” Mare asked, his lips covered with powdered cheese, his mouth full of corn puffs. He refused to relinquish the bag of Cheetos even though his arms overflowed with blankets and clothing.
The others appeared behind him, burdened by even more supplies, their fingertips orange.
“Looking at the stars,” Adam said. “I can’t remember the last time I actually did so.”
“That truck isn’t going to unload itself, you know.” Mare flashed his cocky grin and deposited his load in the cave by Adam’s. They could move it all down into the cavern once it was safely out of the elements.
Adam clapped him on the shoulder and they headed back toward the truck, where they could hear Phoenix still tossing boxes down atop one another.
“Wait for me!” Missy called, jogging to catch up. She fell in stride beside them. “Did you tell Adam about Jill’s vision?”
“She had another one?” Adam asked.
“All she said she saw were massive fires and something moving through the smoke.”
“Where was this?” Adam asked, reaching the top of the smoldering hill and descending the rubble like a staircase of burned wood.
“She didn’t recognize the place. Just lots of what looked like pine trees.”
“I suppose we’ll just have to find a way to steer clear of every forest we come across then.” Adam hadn’t meant it as a joke, but Mare laughed.
“We’re almost to the heavy stuff,” Phoenix said when he heard their voices. The majority of the contents of the trailer now covered the ground in a haphazard jumble of cardboard and cloth as tall as the fender.
“This isn’t the heavy stuff?” Missy asked, struggling to lift a large box of canned goods. She looked up at Phoenix to wink at him. Her breath caught and the box slipped from her grasp, ripping when it hit the ground and sending cans rolling in all directions. As soon as her breath returned, she released it as a scream.
Beyond Phoenix, in the shadows at the rear of the trailer, she saw a face. And it was looking right at her.
II
RAY HAD NEVER REALIZED THAT HIS DEFINITION OF CONSCIOUSNESS HAD been linked to his sense of sight. Awakening from a dream meant opening his eyes, while drifting off to sleep meant closing them. He was now beginning to uncover different levels of consciousness, separate layers of his mental faculties that until now he had never known existed. Before, he was either awake or asleep, while now he was exploring the shades of gray between. What he had once defined as the grogginess of waking, he now knew to be a distinct state of alertness. It was a strange moment where his mind was still tapped into both the rational and irrational parts of his brain at the same time, like streetlights yet to fade though the sun graced the horizon. Where dreams and reality were an indistinguishable conglomeration of consciousness, internal visions indecipherable from external stimuli.
He could tell he was still in the cavern by the droning plip…plip…of condensation dripping from the ceiling, the crackling and popping of the fire in front of him and its warmth on his face, and the stale smell of aged earth and stagnant water, but at the same time, he was sitting in the living room of his old house with Tina beside him, silently holding her hand. Had he eyes, he would only have had to open them to dispel one or the other, an abrupt shift in alertness, the toggling of a power switch. Without, he was forced to gently rationalize the distinction between the two, peeling apart layers of sound and smell to settle on the correct location of his body. Though it pained him greatly, he allowed the image of the love of his life to dissociate into the smoke he could smell rising from the bonfire before him, their gray flames wavering from a white-hot core—
Ray snapped to full attention as though he’d been slapped across the face, his vision immediately resuming its smothering blackness.
He had seen the fire as he had when Jake had shown him. He was sure of it. Or had it been part of his dream? He bit his lip, hard, to verify that he was indeed fully awake; with the myriad states of consciousness between, how could he really be sure? The eyes could d
eceive, but they were also the lenses of truth. Without them, it was up to his mind to separate the real from the unreal. His memories of sight were still so fresh that his imagination seemed more real than the blank images he now created as they lent visual credibility versus a speculative haziness. Had he truly seen the fire, shouldn’t he still be able to?
“You fell asleep,” Jake said, startling Ray. He hadn’t heard the boy’s quiet breathing, though now that he tried, he couldn’t hear any of the others either.
“Where did everyone go?”
“Adam and Phoenix are back, so they’re helping unload the truck.”
“Why aren’t you out there with them?”
“I wanted to stay with you.”
“Why?” Ray asked. Jake had been at his side for the last couple of days, but he’d never thought to question it since it was nice to have the constant companionship.
“I wanted to make sure you were ready.”
“For what?”
“We’re going to have to leave soon.”
“Where are we going?” Ray sensed the tension in the boy’s voice and wasn’t actually sure that he truly wanted to know.
“I don’t know. Not for sure anyway…but this is all going to end soon. One way or another.”
“I’m fine, and I’ll be ready if and when I need to be. Why don’t you go check on the others?”
“They’ll be ready, I’m sure. But we won’t even get there if you aren’t. You’re the important one, Ray. Without you, we won’t even be able to make it to where we’re going.”
“I find that hard to believe. The only thing I can do is slow us down.”
Jake shook his head, knowing Ray couldn’t see the gesture. It was imperative that he make sure Ray was prepared. He wasn’t exactly sure why just yet, but his dreams were insistent. If he couldn’t snap Ray out of his self-pitying funk and convince him of his importance, then they were all going to die. That much he understood clearly. Besides, Ray had saved him, and it was only right that he do the same.
“Keep your chin up,” he said. “That’s what my mom used to say when I was sad.”
“Thanks,” Ray said, reaching toward the sound of the voice to ruffle Jake’s hair. “What do you say we head outside with the others?”
“Okay.”
Ray stood and turned away from the fire. He had been trying to keep the world around him at right angles. If he walked straight from the stairs to the fire, then all he would have to do is turn around and he would be pointed in the right direction. Routine was the key. He started walking and felt Jake’s hand slide into his, but instead of trying to lead him, the boy simply walked at his side, which Ray genuinely appreciated.
“You don’t have to wear the blindfold,” Jake said when they reached the stairs. They moved to the right so Ray could feel the stone wall and use it as a guide. “Your eyes don’t look as bad as you think they do.”
Ray smiled and gave Jake’s hand a squeeze. They ascended the rocky stairs until they reached the flat cliff. From there, Ray could feel the air from the tunnel to the outside world, hear its subtle breath, and walked straight toward it. Sixteen steps and they were in the mouth of the walkway, another twenty-one and they reached the bend. Ray traced the wall with his fingertips, learning the imperfections in the stone while counting down the thirty-six paces that would lead them into the cave. He heard the distant voices outside, far enough off to the right that he couldn’t clearly understand their words, felt the cool night breeze on his face.
Ray started forward into the cave, but something caught his feet and sent him sprawling. He landed on a pile of something soft and rolled to the side onto his back.
“Dammit!” he cursed, pounding his fists on the ground.
“It’s okay,” Jake said, trying to help pull him back to his feet.
Ray jerked his hand away. “I can do it!”
Jake flinched and took a step back.
“Jake…” Ray whispered, acutely aware of the quiver in the boy’s breathing. He pushed himself back to his feet and resisted the urge to kick the heap of blankets that had tripped him. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just…just mad at myself. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s just that every time I think I’m finally making progress, I end up doing something stupid.”
“It isn’t your fault,” Jake whispered. The tremor in his voice hurt Ray infinitely worse than any fall could have. “I should have told you to watch out.”
“Come here,” Ray whispered, kneeling on the blankets. He had to brace himself with both hands to find his balance, but when he did, he extended both arms out to his sides.
Jake threw himself into Ray’s embrace, nearly knocking him over.
“I’m so sorry,” Ray whispered into his ear. He could feel the child’s tears on his cheek, and they burned like acid. “You know how sorry I am, don’t you?”
Jake nodded, dragging his damp cheek up and down against Ray’s.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“I know,” Jake sniffled, “but that wasn’t what scared me.”
“What do you mean?” Ray pulled his face away, puzzled. “What scared you then?”
He felt Jake’s arms slide out from beneath his and again when they reached the back of his head. The boy’s small fingers fumbled with the knot of the blindfold. Ray lowered his head to allow Jake to pull it off over his hair.
“Here,” Jake said, holding the blindfold out to Ray, stretched taut between his hands.
“What am I…?” Ray started, but his words trailed off when he ran his fingers along the length of the fabric. It was warm. Not just the kind of muted damp warmth that was transferred via skin contact, but a dry heat as though it had been baked in a kiln. Sections were tattered and crisp, singed.
Ray brought his hands to his hollow sockets and carefully traced the scarred skin.
“How…?” he gasped.
“Your eyes…” Jake said, taking Ray by the wrists and lowering his hands from his face. “They were on fire.”
III
“PHOENIX!” MISSY SCREAMED, CRAWLING OVER THE TAILGATE AND INTO THE cargo bed. That face was still right behind him. How could he not know there was someone right behind—?
She stopped when she reached him, fists curled into his jacket in preparation of yanking him out of harm’s way. The face stared lifelessly at her through smooth marble eyes, the shadows peeling back just enough to reveal the fixed expression of sorrow framed by the cowl of a flowing stone gown. The woman knelt atop a square marble pedestal, hands clasped in front of her breast in prayer. Missy knew right then exactly what it was.
“Are you all right?” Phoenix asked.
She relaxed her hands and released his jacket. “I thought that was someone standing behind you.”
“And you were going to save me from them?” Phoenix asked. There was a second question hidden beneath the first, she could see it in his eyes, but she couldn’t imagine what it might be.
“Of course,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck. A shiver rippled through him.
He broke their embrace and smiled at her, though she could tell he was humoring her.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” she whispered.
Taking her softly by either side of her face, he kissed her forehead. “Another time.”
She turned away, shaking her head. His footsteps echoed away from her as he went back to sliding timber off the back of the truck. She stared into the sad marble eyes of the mourning Virgin, amazed that the sculptor had been able to draw such emotion from a block of stone. Beside the ornate headstone were others of differing styles and colors, ranging from a polished white to the sad gray of an overcast sky. There was an angelic, winged cherub standing on one foot with a horn poised to its lips in preparation of heralding the heavens. Another featured the bearded Savior, His gown hanging from Him, several sizes too large, standing with His arms spread wide in a welcoming embrace
. He simultaneously stood atop the adjacent grave marker, His twin naked save for a loincloth and a crown of thorns, arms extended and feet overlapping as though nailed to an invisible cross. She saw the Virgin Mary cradling a swaddled child beside a large gothic cross. There were eight of them in total. She tried not to read anything into the significance of the number, for there were only six graves on the beach.
Footsteps approached from behind.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Adam said.
“They’re very sad.”
“They’re supposed to be.”
“I know,” Missy said. “Their sadness is just so…permanent, though.”
Missy allowed a wan smile to cross her face and brushed past Adam. Stopping at the tailgate, she looked outside for Phoenix, but he was nowhere to be seen. Jill and Mare were just heading back toward the cave with their arms full of boxes. Marble screeched on the aluminum flooring as Adam began sliding the headstones toward the open rear of the trailer.
“Phoenix?” she called, but there was no answer. She needed to talk to him, needed to know what was going on inside his head. The distance he was creating between them was wearing on her. She loved him and couldn’t stand the fact that he was drifting away from her and she felt helpless against it. He was different, she knew, special, saddled with the burden of the entire world, but he didn’t have to bear that cross alone. Not when he had her. Maybe there was nothing she could do, but she had to try. If he would just open up to her…
She dropped down from the tailgate and looked around, but there was no one else nearby. There were voices from the other side of the fallen barricade, so she climbed up and stood on the charred planks of the great mound of formerly white sand. Her brother disappeared into the cave off to her left to relieve himself of his burden. The waves rolled in silently along the shoreline, racing up the beach to leave a foamy mark before receding. A haze of smoke from the fire pits lingered over the water. Her eyes followed it toward the southern source. Phoenix sat on the sand beside the lone wooden cross at the head of Carrie’s grave, Evelyn right beside him. Missy watched as he plucked a small red blossom from the flowering vines that spiraled around the cross, inspecting it carefully before passing it to Evelyn.
Trail of Blood Page 5
