Trail of Blood

by Michael McBride

  Missy was sprawled out on the ground in front of him in a puddle of blood that shimmered like a ruby against the black tar, her face flattened in an unnatural way. Her arms were crumpled beneath her, elbows bowed outward, the pool of fluids widening even in the short time he watched.

  Adam sprinted to her and rolled her onto her back, the openings in her neck parting like so many trout’s gills. Her skin was stark white, splotchy bruises filling the sparse gaps between spatters of blood. Eyes fixed into a wide, startled expression of horror, she stared blankly past him.

  Blood trickled from her nostrils and the corners of her mouth, but with so much everywhere around her, Adam was surprised there was any left in her at all.

  He wrapped his hands around her neck and willed it to heal, forcing all of his energy into his fingers. There was no tingling, no crackle of energy rippling through his flesh. The power that had been within him was gone, as he had known it would be. His hands were now useless clamps merely holding together the gaping lacerations.

  Missy was dead.

  Adam raised his head from her face, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes met Phoenix’s from where the boy struggled to rise to his feet ahead. A black monster towered over him from behind, scales glittering.

  Phoenix read Adam’s expression. His lips quivered and his mouth contorted around a gut-wrenching cry that broke Adam’s heart.

  Death fanned his claws and raised them high, slashing so fast that Adam had no time to warn Phoenix before streaks of blood pattered the ground from his back.

  Phoenix crawled forward, mewling, seemingly oblivious to Death, who raked his claws across Phoenix’s back over and over, filling the air with crimson droplets. And yet still Phoenix crawled toward Missy, reaching for her with trembling hands. He was nearly to her, fresh blood trembling on his fingertips, struggling to touch her, when Death struck.

  Adam saw claws latch into the top of Phoenix’s eye sockets from behind, piercing the upper lids and grabbing bony leverage, a dark hand palming his head from behind. Blood poured across the surface of Phoenix’s eyes, yet still he battled the awful pain, hoping to reach just…a little…farther.

  Death cleaved him from the ground by his head, holding him in the air, his other hand reaching for Phoenix’s exposed throat.

  Flames erupted from the boy’s eyes, rising over the scaled fingers. Phoenix’s spine buckled backwards and his arms shot out to his sides.

  The beast ripped his hand away, tearing seams through Phoenix’s scalp, the long, dirty hair falling away from so many bloody parts.

  Phoenix still hovered in mid-air, toes pointing at the earth, palms to the heavens.

  A blinding light enveloped him, brighter even than the rising sun, forcing Adam to shield his eyes as a rush of heat washed over him.

  VII

  PHOENIX SUCCUMBED TO THE PAIN AND SADNESS, THE RAGE. EVERYTHING around him became golden, shimmering. He saw Adam shield his eyes and realized that he himself was the source of the light.

  Death’s claws ripped through his eyelids, tearing deep lacerations into his forehead, over the top of his head, and down his neck. But there was no pain. Not even as blood poured over his ears and along his neck. Spreading his arms to either side, he felt himself rise higher, attached neither to the earth nor the heavens. He twirled in the sky until he faced the reptilian creature crouching on the roof. The creature’s scarlet eyes filled with fear, though only for a heartbeat before Death flashed his wicked claws and bared a nasty snarl of teeth.

  Phoenix could only think of Missy. Each second lost was one she could never have back. With that realization, the fury took hold of him, launching him toward Death. He grabbed his adversary by either side of the ruggedly scaled face, smoke billowing from their union.

  Death hissed and slashed Phoenix across the face, opening wounds that split his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Phoenix didn’t even cringe. He drew his thumbs inward and plunged them into Death’s blazing eyes, summoning a rush of pustules and a hiss that made the sky shiver.

  Death’s claws sought Phoenix’s throat, closing around it and squeezing until the nails punctured the skin and slid into the muscle and tissue, but the boy’s grip didn’t falter, his thumbs pressing harder still until they met with bone, which cracked with the pressure and sent electric bolts of agony into Death’s brain.

  In that moment, Death smelled failure on the breeze, resplendent with the aroma of his cooking flesh and boiling blood.

  He tore his talons out of Phoenix’s neck, slashing at whatever he could reach. Blood flew from the boy’s face and chest, but the grip on his head only tightened. The pain magnified as Death felt himself being lifted upward, his feet leaving the ground. He kicked and flailed, pressure mounting in his spine as he hung by his head. He snapped his jaws but found nothing within range. His sight was gone, the remainder of his squashed orbs dribbling over his scaled lips.

  Phoenix screamed, an anguished sound of loss and torment, rage and longing, and ripped his hands apart.

  Death heard the crack inside his head. A fissure raced across the crown of his skull.

  For Phoenix, there were no words, only a jumble of thoughts and images. Missy lying in a pool of her own blood. Mare scorched to black bones, leaning over the incinerated creature of fire. Headstones along the beach guarding the bodies of the dead. The silhouette of a girl framed by the sun, dangling her feet into a shimmering lake.

  Hatred filled him, scalding him from within like boiling oil. He didn’t just want to kill Death, he wanted to tear him limb from limb, to rip out his beating heart, unfurl his coiled guts, make him experience the pain he had caused so many, to drag his death out infinitely as punishment for all of the suffering he had caused. He squeezed and twisted Death’s skull, his fingers delving deeper, fragmenting bone, conducting a symphony of hissing. His nostrils filled with the addictive stench of burning scales.

  He looked at his hands, the tendons straining in his blood-soaked wrists. His teeth ached from baring them, every muscle knotted by rage. The Beast no longer snapped at him. Its claws no longer thrashed, but hung limply where they were latched into his chest.

  “Blessed are the merciful; for they shall obtain mercy,” he whispered, lowering his body again to the ground.

  He released Death’s head and the black creature crumpled to his knees at Phoenix’s feet, chin lolling to his chest.

  Phoenix looked back over his shoulder at Adam. The golden glow faded from around him, and saw the fear in Adam’s eyes. Adam was looking right at him. Afraid of him. Beyond Adam, standing in the open doorway, he could see the same expression on Evelyn’s pallid face. He felt blood on his cheeks and flames crackling from his eyes. Gore dripped from his hands, which he raised in front of him. He studied the implements that had caused such carnage as though they belonged to someone else entirely.

  What had he become?

  His stare fell to Death as he raised his ruined face. Nothing remained of his eyes but sludge, the savage mouth hanging slack and pouring blood to the ground. The dewlap flattened to his neck. The sun no longer glimmered on his scales.

  Phoenix listened to the agonal breathing, the gasping through lungs full of blood as the creature drowned inside itself.

  He looked again at his hands, dripping with the signs of torture and impending death.

  “End…this…” Death rasped in the weak voice of a man with an Arabic accent.

  Phoenix titled his face to the heavens, though the rays of the sun didn’t warm his tear-drenched cheeks. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

  He turned away from Death and walked to where Missy had fallen, kneeling behind her head. Leaning across her face, his chin touching her nose, he kissed her gently on the lips. Tears of grief shivered loose from his jaw and patterned her cheeks. He withdrew his mouth and whispered, “I love you with all of my heart and soul.”

  His eyes rose to meet Adam’s.

  “Please,” Phoenix implored. “Take her from this pla
ce.”

  “Phoenix…”

  “Please, Adam.”

  Adam nodded. He reached one arm beneath Missy’s legs and the other under her shoulders. By the time he lifted her from the ground, Phoenix had turned and walked back to where Death knelt.

  “There is…” Death gurgled, “hope…even in…death.”

  Phoenix glanced back over his shoulder, meeting Adam’s and Evelyn’s eyes. They hesitated momentarily, and then descended into the darkness.

  “I’m sorry,” Phoenix whispered, turning back to Death and sliding his arms beneath the creature’s armpits to help him to his feet. He stared into the bludgeoned face of the brother he had never known.

  Closing his eyes, Phoenix drew the creature into an embrace.

  He felt the heat first, then a radiant glow so bright it hurt his eyes even through the lids. It swelled until it fully enveloped both of them.

  VIII

  JAKE HELD RAY’S HAND, HIS GRIP TIGHTENING AS HE STARED UP AT THE ROOF of the foreboding tower. What had at first appeared to be a small fire had grown exponentially until it now looked like a second sun perched atop the building. Its heat chased away the coldness that clung to him, and though it hurt his eyes, he knew he needed to watch, that it was imperative that he didn’t look away even for a second. The ball of light slowly expanded into a great celestial dome. Time passed and yet stood still in the same instant.

  “Tell me what you see,” Ray said, the radiance caressing his face.

  “It looks like the sun is rising from the top of the building.”

  “Dawn,” Ray whispered. “It feels like dawn.”

  He pulled Jake to his hip at the sound of approaching footsteps, the scuffing of asphalt.

  Jake had to shield his eyes against the glare to see the shadows walking toward them.

  He recognized Adam’s shape first, laboring beneath the weight of the body draped across his chest, stumbling as though about to collapse. Evelyn clung to his left arm, offering what little support she could, while Jill trailed, looking back over her shoulder every few steps at the blossom of illumination swelling behind.

  Jake released Ray’s hand and raced toward them. The limp form in Adam’s arms finally came into focus. Shoulder-length black hair. Thin legs. Missy.

  He pulled up short, his heart rate slowing. “Where’s Phoenix?”

  Evelyn let go of Adam’s arm and lifted Jake to her chest. He wrapped his arms around her neck, his chin settling in the nook. “He’s still up there,” she whispered into his ear.

  His gaze rose again to the high roof. The golden energy expanded in a bubble that appeared strained and ready to pop. He thought he saw a single shadow in its center, a bird of fire rising to the heavens, and then it was gone.

  * * *

  Adam lowered Missy to the ground at Ray’s feet, carefully resting her head on the asphalt. He dropped to his knees, exhausted, and placed his index and middle fingers against her carotid, breathing a sigh of relief as he felt the weak tapping of blood flow. The gaping wounds in her neck had closed, leaving puffy pink scars. The entire upper half of her body was sticky with blood, her face a mask of drying crimson. Her irises twitched beneath her lids, the lashes shivering before parting to reveal bloodshot crescents and icy blue half-moons.

  “Phoenix?” she whispered, sounding like her throat was full of stringy phlegm.

  Adam glanced at Evelyn, then back to Missy. He didn’t know what to say.

  Missy nodded meekly and allowed her eyes to close again, forcing a single large tear from the outside corners to drain through the blood on her cheeks.

  Jill sat on the pavement above Missy’s head and stroked Missy’s bangs from her forehead, the horizontal creases of pain softening. Wiping her own tears away, she stared up at the brilliant expanding glow.

  “Is it over?” Ray asked.

  “I don’t know,” Adam said, tracing his fingers along the seams on Missy’s throat. The glare behind him intensified, stretching his shadow across Missy and up Ray’s legs. He turned and had to shield his eyes.

  The outer rim of the ball of light shivered and retracted suddenly to half its size, focusing the light into an even brighter sphere before exploding outward. They all turned away as a hot wind buffeted them, screaming past them, baking the moisture from their skin. Even through their closed eyes they could see the light strobe, washing over them in waves, a warm embrace that passed through them.

  Jill thought she smelled Phoenix in the gale and looked down at Missy, whose lips stretched into a smile.

  The glow faded and the breeze tapered to a soft caress.

  * * *

  Jake opened his eyes and relaxed his stranglehold on Evelyn’s neck. The light was no longer perched atop the roof of the tower. There was now nothing but endless blue sky. The edges of the roof were lined with something green, which cascaded over the top floor like a frozen waterfall.

  “Vines,” Jake said. They lengthened as he watched, reaching down for the earth. He looked at the piles of rubble surrounding them. Small shoots of emerald rose from the cracks and poked through the fissures in the broken pavement in stark contrast to the scorched earth.

  “Now it’s over,” Adam said, rising and walking over to Evelyn. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned his cheek against the side of Jake’s head. “Time to go home.”

  A small bud bloomed from a swatch of green growing from the rubble at the base of the bloodstained cross, blossoming into a crimson flower beneath the azure sky.

  Epilogue

  I

  Mormon Tears

  WITH THE SPRING HAD COME RENEWAL. PINE SAPLINGS HAD POKED their bristled necks out of the crevices in the stone all around the cave, lengthening to foot-long miniature representations of what they would someday become. Beds of kelp lined the white sand as far as the eye could see, save for the gap of open water they tried to maintain to launch the rowboat beached ten feet inland. The minnows had appeared in early May, clinging to the cover of the kelp until they had grown venturous enough to strike out for the deeper water, where they enticed Adam with ripples.

  There had been much work to be done, but it was nearly complete. And now, with the late September sun shortening the day, promising that the snow would again fall, they would be ready for the winter.

  Adam stood in the middle of the beach, the setting sun reflecting in oranges and reds on the cresting waves of the Great Salt Lake. He was thankful every day for this opportunity, grateful for all of the loving sacrifices made to afford him this luxury. Never had he appreciated life as much as he did now. Multicolored fish rose to steal the insects from the surface of the lake with quiet splooshes at the edge of sight and an infant’s cries echoed out of the cave.

  To his left was the windmill he had built with his own two hands, spinning lazily in the cool evening breeze; to his right the white picket fence enclosing the graveyard.

  A hand slid under his arm and Evelyn leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.

  He kissed her on the top of her head. “You’re beautiful.”

  She smiled and stared across the glimmering sea.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Momentarily heartburn free, but it feels like there’s a bowling ball on my bladder.” She rubbed her free hand over her bulbous belly. The small knob of a heel pushed against her palm from within. “And I think he’s going to be a soccer player.”

  Adam laughed and drew her closer, imagining children running barefoot through the sand chasing a ball.

  “You’re sure it’s a boy?”

  “Yeah,” she said coyly. “And he’ll have his father’s eyes.”

  “And his mother’s heart.”

  “He’ll be perfect.”

  II

  RAY STIRRED THE STEW OVER THE FIRE WHILE JAKE STOKED THE FLAMES. They made a good team. Without his sight, Ray’s sense of smell had developed to the point that he could tell precisely when the pot of fis
h chunks, potatoes, and kelp was ready, and Jake was always eager to take the first slurp to confirm it. They boy’s appetite had grown voracious and he must have shot up at least two inches since the start of summer.

  “Go check on Jill while I serve this up,” Ray said. “See if she’s ready to eat.”

  Jake scampered through the cavern, scaled the series of ladders to reach the uppermost room of the pueblo, and lowered his head through the hole in the roof. He was about to call down to her when he noticed she was sleeping. Good, he thought, she needed her rest. For as long as she had been in labor, he figured she’d probably need to sleep for a month straight. The swaddled infant suckled at her breast.

  They were all thankful for the reprieve from the crying.

  Silently, Jake retreated from the hole in the ceiling and descended to the stone floor. He jogged over to Ray.

  “She’s asleep,” he said.

  “Good.” He offered Jake a steaming ladle of the white stew.

  Jake blew on it, then pressed his lips to it and slurped loudly.

  “Best batch yet,” Jake said.

  “You say that every night.”

  “And it’s always true.”

  “You’re just sucking up because you haven’t found where I’ve stashed the chocolate yet, aren’t you?”