The Seventh Door

by Bryan Davis

  As Roxil drew near, Mom began flying slowly in the same direction. She lifted higher and settled on Roxil’s back just behind Lauren.

  “Mom!” Lauren twisted and hugged her tightly.

  As they embraced, Roxil called, “I will contact Lois and get us back on course.”

  Mom released Lauren. “No! Wait!”

  Roxil curled her neck and brought her head close. “Yes?”

  Mom pointed over Roxil’s right shoulder. “We need to go that way. That’s where Matt is. At least that’s where he was a little while ago.”

  “Very well. Guide me. Lauren will demonstrate.”

  After Lauren showed her mother how to adjust their flight direction, she reached back and held her hand. “It’s so good to see you again. You wouldn’t believe all we’ve been through.” She laughed. “Well, I guess you would. The craziest things seem normal now.”

  “You’re right about that,” Mom said. “Less than an hour ago I was stuck on an island watching a video on a computer. Matt was trying to decide whether to allow a nuclear missile to launch or to let Darcy die.”

  “I saw Darcy’s name on a phone message she left at the church, the one with the web stuff covering it. Who is she?”

  “I guess I have a lot to explain.” For the next several minutes, she filled Lauren in on their travels to the four addresses, their discovery of Thomas and Mariel, her abduction by Arramos, the restoration of her song with help from Joran and Selah, who Darcy was, and Matt’s apparent change of heart about her.

  After a couple of hours, a column of smoke appeared, rising from the ground and into the clouds. Mom pointed at it. “That direction is about right. Let’s see what’s going on.”

  Roxil curled her neck and looked at them. As she blinked, her ears wilted. “I concur. I am growing quite weary. Even if it is nothing important, I will be able to rest.”

  Several minutes later, the source of the smoke came into view—a burning pile of cornstalks between a red barn and a farmhouse. In the midst of falling snow, Roxil landed in a slide several paces away from the fire.

  As soon as she stopped, Lauren and her mother hopped down. Keeping her ears perked for any unusual noises, Lauren looked around. She picked up a fallen cornstalk and shook off a thin coating of snow and ice. “How could someone burn these on such a cold, wet day? Making a fire would be nearly impossible.”

  “Matt could do it,” Mom said. “I’m sure he’s an expert in survival skills and signaling for help.”

  “True. But since the fire’s still going, he couldn’t have started it very long ago.” Lauren dropped the cornstalk. “So what now?”

  “The video looked like the camera was in a big room.” Mom nodded toward the barn. “Let’s check it out.”

  While Roxil rested near the fire, Lauren and her mother jogged across the wet, furrowed field. When they drew close to the barn, they passed by sheets of metal on the ground surrounding a blackened concrete pad. At the center of the pad, a hatch stood open, also bearing the signs of a scorching blast.

  Lauren walked to the hatch and looked in. Nothing but darkness lay below. “Just a hole. I can’t see anything.”

  “Let’s go inside.” Mom opened a door to the barn and waited for Lauren to join her. When they entered, Mom turned in a slow circle under a bank of ceiling lights. “This is the place.” She walked to a toppled chair and touched its leg. “Semiramis sat here, and then Darcy. I saw Matt take Darcy, but I don’t know what happened to Semiramis after Matt punched her.”

  Lauren smiled. “I love that part of the story. I’m so proud of him.”

  Mom touched her shoulder. “Let’s see what’s in the house.”

  They ran across the field. After pausing for a moment to tell Roxil what they had found, they hurried to the farmhouse. Once inside, Lauren stopped in the anteroom and inhaled deeply. The aroma of bacon permeated the air.

  Mom passed her and stepped into a small living room. She picked up a sheet of paper on a sofa. As she scanned it, she smiled. “It’s from Matt.”

  Lauren joined her and looked over her shoulder. Hurried script written in dark blue ink covered the page.

  Mom read out loud. “Whoever finds this, Thomas, Mariel, and Darcy are with me, and we’re all safe. I now have four keys, and I’m on my way to the fifth address. I copied that address and the sixth one on the back of this sheet, but I still don’t know number seven. A missile launched from a silo here. Tamiel says it is nuclear and will go through a portal and destroy Second Eden, but I don’t believe him. I’m not even sure it carries a real warhead. The computer map in the barn is tracking the missile. At first, it was targeted on someplace in Nebraska, but last time I checked, the target had drifted eastward like someone’s controlling it remotely. The missile had flown a few hundred miles, but I didn’t have time to stay and watch it. I have to go to the fifth door before sunset and then the sixth door, maybe tomorrow morning. Everything’s accelerating. My danger sense tells me that something terrible is about to happen. Maybe it’s the missile. Maybe it’s what’s waiting at the next door. I’m not sure. But I do know everything will eventually be okay.”

  She turned the page over and continued. “Mom, if you’re the one reading this . . .” She sniffed and wiped a tear. “Your song made all the difference. I don’t know how you did it, but thank you. I’m not sure if that missile will detonate or not. I figured Tamiel could launch the missile later no matter what I decided to do. He has control over it. I had to take care of what I had control over. Saving Darcy. I have no regrets.”

  Biting her lip, Mom folded the page. “I guess we should check the addresses to see if they match what’s on the phone.”

  “Sure.” Lauren took the note and slid it into her back pocket. “We should have a look at the computer map, and Roxil can ask Lois how long it would take to fly to either address.”

  “Good plan.”

  After informing Roxil, Lauren and her mother hurried back to the barn. They each chose a chair at the computer station and looked at the monitors. On one of the screens, a flashing missile icon moved across a map with an arcing trail of illuminated dashes behind it. A small bull’s-eye target icon sat on the right-hand side of the screen.

  Mom pointed at the target. “Matt said it was drifting, but it looks like it’s staying put now.”

  “Can you tell where it is?” Lauren leaned forward and squinted at the screen. “I can’t find any labels.”

  “I see state borders. It looks like it’s heading for north-central Kentucky, maybe a bit south of Indiana.” Mom tapped on the screen. “Isn’t that where Louisville is?”

  “It is!” Lauren flopped back in her chair. “And so is Fort Knox!”

  Mom blinked at her. “What’s so important about Fort Knox?”

  “That’s where Elam thinks they’re holding Sapphira! He’s on his way there now!”

  Mom’s expression turned vacant. “Tamiel is that evil. He would slaughter thousands of people just to kill Elam.”

  “And Yereq and Makaidos and Thigocia. They’re all with him.”

  “Can we get word to him?”

  “I’m not sure.” Lauren tapped her jaw. “Lois! Can you hear me?”

  “Quite well. You seem to be distressed.”

  “I am.” Lauren took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Can you get a message to Elam? It’s urgent.”

  “Elam provided a way to send an urgent message, but his parameters for urgency might be more stringent than yours.”

  “A missile with a nuclear warhead is about to hit Fort Knox. Is that urgent enough?”

  “Affirmative. I will send the message. Give me a moment.”

  Lauren breathed a frail whisper. “But will it get there in time?”

  Lauren and her mother stared at each other. Although Mom’s song had been loud and clear earlier, it now faded with every passing second. There was no need to talk. They both knew the possible outcomes. Even if Lois reache
d Elam in time, a nuclear blast would kill Sapphira and obliterate any nearby town. Countless lives might soon be snuffed out.

  After a few minutes, Lauren whispered into her tooth transmitter. “Lois? Any luck reaching Elam?”

  “I sent the message. I am awaiting confirmation of reception.”

  Lauren kept her voice low. “If a nuclear bomb hits Fort Knox, how many people would die?”

  “It depends on the type of warhead. Do you know the yield in megatons?”

  “No. Just assume it’s a big one. And please answer as quietly as you can. I’ll be able to hear you.”

  Lois’s reply came through at a barely audible volume. “Assuming fifty megatons, the number of fatalities would initially be fairly low because of the relatively rural location, perhaps seventy thousand. Long-term deaths due to fallout could reach more than three hundred thousand. These estimates are based on a population reduction that has already occurred due to rampant crime and riots in Louisville.”

  “Any chance the U.S. military will see the missile on radar and somehow stop it?”

  “The chance is low. The military branches are in disarray, though the missile defense system has procedures that allow for a counterattack if authorization is given. It takes only a few highly ranked personnel to trigger retaliation.”

  Lauren strolled away from her mother. “Since the launch came from within the U.S., would they retaliate?”

  “According to my knowledge base, authorities would attempt to determine if a terrorist accessed the launch site and if a foreign government directed the action. If so, retaliation would be likely, though the investigation would create a gap in time before the counter-strike.”

  “If the military is in disarray, could they investigate at all?”

  Static filtered into Lois’s reply. “My artificial intelligence engine is unable to predict the response of human personnel in the wake of such a disaster and the pressure of a terrified populace demanding answers and retribution. Perhaps the authorities would believe that their entire nuclear arsenal is compromised, and they might launch all remaining missiles in order to keep them from striking additional domestic targets.”

  As Lauren walked toward her mother, she whispered, “Nuclear war.”

  Lois began a reply, but static drowned her out. Lauren massaged her jaw. Maybe the transmitter was deteriorating, or maybe her tendency to disrupt electrical equipment had again come into play. “Lois, would you repeat that, please?”

  “Certainly.” The static settled to background noise. “Nuclear war is a possible outcome, though I cannot predict the likelihood of such a response or how long the U.S. military would wait to proceed.”

  Lauren sat down again. “I understand.”

  Mom wheeled her chair closer. “I heard some of your side of the conversation. I can imagine the rest.”

  Lauren smiled weakly. “I didn’t want to hurt your song.”

  “If we have nuclear war, it won’t matter much.” She grasped Lauren’s hand. “I need to talk to you about something very personal.”

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  “I might as well be blunt.” Mom leaned toward her. “Has anyone talked to you about faith in God?”

  “Definitely.” As Lauren compressed her mother’s hand, she let her smile grow. “My dross is purged. Just like you, I am an Oracle of Fire.”

  Tears trickled from Mom’s eyes. “Then you’re safe, no matter what happens.”

  Lauren stood and pulled her mother into her arms. As they embraced, Lauren whispered, “Safe. We have nothing to fear, not even death.”

  The tingles in her scales spiked. Lights on the ceiling flickered. The monitors at the workstation flashed and buzzed, and the cameras began spinning wildly.

  Mom wrapped a wing around Lauren. A monitor exploded. Glass pelted the wing’s membrane. Shards pierced and stuck on the outer side. The overhead light panels burst. More glass rained on their heads.

  Then, darkness enveloped the room. The workstation continued buzzing. A barely visible glow on the remaining monitor, just a fading ghost, spelled out, “Connection Lost. Assume Detonation Sequence Activated.”

  * * *

  Elam yawned. After driving through the night and taking only a couple of short naps, the final hundred miles lay before him, though it seemed like a thousand. The eerily reddish sun had passed its high point and now sank toward the horizon, a fireball in the exterior rearview mirror. Soon it would be dark enough to stop and let Yereq and the dragons out for a stretch before driving into Fort Knox.

  The cell phone chimed as it lay on the passenger’s seat. He furrowed his brow. One ring and then silence. So far, so good.

  It chimed again—once, twice, three times, then silence.

  Elam called to Yereq. “Did you hear that?”

  “I did.” He pushed up from his reclining position and sat against the van’s side wall. Wearing a medieval tunic and trousers that Tamara sewed for him years ago, he looked perfect for the villain’s role in Jack and the Beanstalk. “We wait one minute for a double ring.”

  Elam pointed ahead. “There’s an abandoned gas station. I’ll pull in there and alert Makaidos and Thigocia. We’ll see if they detect any danger.”

  Something thumped three times in the trailer.

  “I think we have an answer already,” Yereq said. “That was not a call to stop for bladder relief.”

  Elam drove the van into the gas station’s parking area, an old Stuckey’s travel center. Weeds grew from cracks in the pavement, and wide strips of paper tape drew huge X’s across the windows.

  When he stopped, he scooped up the phone, hopped out of the van, and jogged to the back of the trailer. He grabbed the rear gate’s handle and swung the door open.

  Makaidos immediately extended his neck and pushed his head out while the rest of his body stayed tightly curled with Thigocia’s. His eyes seemed to flame. “I sense horrific danger.”

  “We guessed that.” Elam waved an arm. “You’d better get out so you can fly if necessary.”

  While the two dragons untangled themselves and climbed out of the trailer, Yereq exited the van’s side door and joined them.

  Elam looked at the phone. About ten seconds remained until the expected third signal.

  Makaidos stretched his neck and looked at the sky. “The danger is up there. It is not close, but it is of such magnitude that proximity is not a factor.”

  The phone chimed . . . once . . . twice . . . then fell silent.

  “That’s it.” Elam punched in the designated emergency number and held the phone to his ear.

  A woman answered. “Castlewood Chamber of Commerce. How may I help you?”

  “Activate voice encryption,” Elam said.

  The phone began a low hum. “Encryption activated.”

  Elam paced in front of Yereq and the dragons, his head low. “Lois, what’s going on?”

  “A missile with a nuclear warhead has been launched. The target is Fort Knox. I estimate that it will arrive in eight minutes.”

  Elam stopped. His heart thumping, he whispered, “Eight minutes?”

  “Affirmative. I concluded that the situation was sufficiently urgent to initiate contact with you.”

  “Of course. Of course.” Elam looked up. No smoke trails appeared in the scarlet-tinted haze. “We’re still a hundred miles away, but if Sapphira’s there . . .” An image of Sapphira being incinerated by an inferno blast pulsed in his mind. “How sure are you of this information?”

  “The confidence is quite high. We have an eyewitness who saw the missile in flight, and we have two eyewitnesses who have seen the targeting map on a computer workstation. The eyewitnesses have a reliability factor of one hundred percent.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Bonnie and Lauren Bannister.”

  “More like two hundred percent.” Elam gazed at the eastern horizon. “If the missile hits Fort Knox, how much danger are we in?” />
  “That depends on the payload, but considering the prevailing winds are in your favor, it is not a deadly threat unless you enter the fallout zone.”

  Elam looked at the dragons. Both Makaidos and Thigocia shifted uneasily. Why would they sense such great danger if the missile wouldn’t cause them any harm? Maybe the danger was so extreme for others, it somehow bled into their own radar screens. He quickly summarized the warning for them and Yereq.

  “My security algorithm indicates that we should end this call,” Lois said. “I will send an encrypted text that will provide all updates I have at this time.”

  “Very well, Lois. Thank you.” Elam pressed the Disconnect button. A series of unintelligible text scrolled across the screen. When it finished, a new series began—the translated version. Elam read the note and summarized it out loud. “Bonnie and Lauren are going to try to intercept Matt at an address that Lois included in her message. They call it the sixth door. No word from Billy. Walter, Ashley, and Gabriel went down with Merlin in a plane crash, but they survived.”

  “What is the address?” Makaidos asked.

  “Someplace in Nebraska. Take a look.” He held the phone close to Makaidos so he could read it.

  A brilliant light flashed in the eastern sky. It shot outward in concentric rainbows that shattered in sparkling colors. At the center, a mushroom cloud blossomed high above the ground.

  “Cover them!” Makaidos shouted.

  The two dragons shoved Elam and Yereq down. As Elam lay with his cheek on the cold pavement, Thigocia’s wing blanketed him. Seconds later, the leatherlike canopy rippled over his body as if blown by a violent wind.

  After a few moments, the wing lifted. Elam and Yereq climbed to their feet. The redness in the sky appeared pink now, as if someone had spilled antinausea medicine from horizon to horizon.

  Elam brushed gravel from his pants. “That wasn’t eight minutes. Not even close.”

  Makaidos bobbed his head. “The explosion occurred high in the air.”