The Seventh Door

by Bryan Davis

  “Can you keep sending messages for another half hour?”

  “If I turn off all other input-output channels, then yes.”

  “Go ahead. If you don’t get an answer in half an hour, you probably never will.”

  “Your conclusion is sound. If I receive a reply, I will restore the verbal interface and inform you.”

  Larry’s monitor flickered off, and more than half of the lights on his panels winked out.

  The room darkened. Marilyn turned toward Mardon, now only a silhouette in the dimness. He walked slowly toward her and reached out a hand.

  “I’ll get candles.” She turned, but he grabbed her arm. “Don’t touch me!” she barked as she jerked away.

  “I was merely hoping for a guide back to the plant so that I may observe it while you obtain alternative lighting. With my diminished eyesight, I have lost my bearings, and the darkness makes it impossible to regain them.”

  “Okay.” She exhaled loudly. “Sorry about the reaction.”

  “It’s quite all right. These are anxious moments.”

  She grasped his upper arm and walked with him to the plant. Barely visible in the dark soil, the tiny sprout appeared to be no taller than before. “Shouldn’t I take Jared . . . I mean, Clefspeare, out into the sunshine, such that it is?”

  “These plants require very little light. Ours grew in the depths of Hades. And if you take him outside, you will expose him to fallout, however little there might be, and you will not be able to hear Larry should he provide a report from Second Eden or the dragons.”

  “Okay. Then you can watch Clefspeare and listen for Larry while I get the candles.” As she hurried from the room and down the hallway, guided by daylight from outside, prickles ran up her spine. Trusting Mardon with the precious plant felt stupid, but if he was going to be her only company on a long journey, she couldn’t avoid trusting him. Keeping the plant safe was in his own best interests, at least until they arrived in Second Eden.

  When she reached the kitchen, she pulled open a drawer and rummaged inside. Candles and matches were in there somewhere.

  “Mrs. B?” Adam called from the rear of the house.

  “In the kitchen.” She grabbed two candles and a matchbook and laid them on the counter. “Did you find gas?”

  “Yep.” He walked in from the living room. “Enough for a little while. I already put it in the generator.”

  “Good.” She lit a candle and handed it to him. “Please go to the computer room. Mardon’s in there with—”

  “Can’t.” He pushed the candle back into her hand. “I’ve been in the fallout. They say I’m supposed to scrub from head to toe.” He grinned. “Unless you want me to glow instead of the candle.”

  “Go ahead. The tub’s still full, and you’ll find a wash basin and a scrub brush in the bathroom closet. I’ll get you up to speed when you’re done.”

  “Sure thing.” Adam spun and hustled into the dimness of the hallway.

  Marilyn walked back toward the computer room and touched the lit candle to the dark wick on the other. As the second candle flared up, an old memory returned—her wedding day with Jared. Years ago they had each carried a lit candle to a church altar and touched their individual flames to a unity candle. That day they became one flesh, inseparable, for better or for worse.

  Even then she knew about his dragon/human genetics, but they had no idea that he would transform from one state to the other multiple times over the years. Her vows never included a phrase such as “whether dragon or human.” The first time Jared transformed into Clefspeare, he became aloof. He even said, “Your husband is now dead, and Clefspeare lives again.” That didn’t sound like the keeping of such a vow.

  She shook her head hard. No! Stop thinking like this! If you don’t, you’ll never have the courage to save Jared! He is your husband, dragon or human!

  Now holding both candles in one hand, she stopped at the door to the computer room and gripped the knob. Why was it so hard to turn? Why was the sight of that weak little plant so hard to face?

  Leaning against the opposite wall, she slid down to her bottom. She stared at the candles and imagined her form in one flame and Jared’s in the other. Leaning the candlesticks toward each other, she brought the flames together and whispered, “Lord, please help us to stay as one.” Her breath made the single flame shudder. Wax dripped to her jeans, but it mattered little. “Help Clefspeare grow, help him fight Arramos, help him win. Then transform him into Jared again and bring him back to my arms.”

  Chapter 21

  SACRIFICE

  Lauren clutched a spine and studied a narrow road below. Roxil rose and fell more randomly now. Even after a good night’s sleep, her energy had fallen dangerously low. Although she complained very little, she had mentioned a “blight in the air,” an odor she had been unable to identify.

  Both wings folded in for a moment, causing a sudden drop. When they expanded again, Roxil snorted a weak stream of sparks and flew on.

  Mom, sitting only inches back, touched Lauren’s shoulder. “Roxil needs another rest.”

  “Let’s see if she’ll agree this time.” Lauren patted Roxil’s scales and shouted, “You need a rest!”

  Keeping her eyes focused straight ahead, she grunted. “Lois says we have less than a mile to go.”

  “Then we’ll walk if we have to, which is better anyway. Maybe no one will see us. Besides, we can’t have you crashing and breaking your bones.”

  “Or yours.” Roxil angled toward the road. “Very well.”

  Seconds later, she slid along on a grassy strip to the right of the pavement. When she stopped, she let her neck flop to the ground. “Perhaps you should dismount.”

  Lauren slid off Roxil’s back on the highway side, and Mom flew down on the other.

  “Let’s go ahead and walk,” Mom said. “Roxil can come by stealth when she feels up to it.”

  “I do not have the strength to argue.” Roxil pointed down the road with a wing. “Lois says the address is eight-tenths of a mile straight ahead. You should be able to find it easily. I will follow as soon as I can.”

  Mom grasped Lauren’s arm. “Let’s go.” As they jogged along the right side of the pavement, Lauren took inventory of her body. Her arms felt okay, but her legs and buttocks tingled from the long ride on a tough-scaled dragon. It felt good to stretch them out.

  She glanced at her mother. Mom limped slightly, lifting herself with a brief flap of her wings every few steps. With legs and wings tired, combining the two was probably the best way to keep the strain from taxing both.

  After a couple of minutes, Lauren’s back scales began to tingle. Mom’s thoughts came through, calm and peaceful. Father, thank you for watching over Lauren. Please take care of Billy and Matt. Variations of these thoughts continued flowing, heartfelt prayers that melded with her waning song.

  A moment later, other thought-voices filtered in—a man and a woman, quiet and nervous, their words too low to make out. Lauren grabbed her mother’s arm and pulled her to a stop. “I hear thoughts.” She scanned the forest to the right. “Somewhere that way.”

  Mom pointed at a narrow dirt path about twenty paces ahead. “Let’s check it out.”

  They hurried to the path and followed it into the woods. Just as they passed the edge of the trees, a stripped-down car came into view. As they passed it, Lauren ran a finger along the frame. Equipped with only two seats, an exposed motor, and what appeared to be solar panels mounted on the back, it looked like a failed green-energy experiment. A duffle bag sat close to the rear of the frame, its top zipped and fastened with a small padlock.

  The path turned to the left. Soon, a sports convertible appeared.

  “The Mustang!” Mom beat her wings and jogged ahead.

  “Wait! We don’t know who’s in it!” Lauren sprinted, and they arrived at the front of the Mustang at the same time.

  The driver’s door swung open. An elderly woman
stepped out and smiled. “Well, if it isn’t Bonnie!”

  “Mariel!” Mom half ran and half flew to her. “Where are Matt and Darcy?”

  “They went to the sixth door early this morning.” Mariel pointed parallel to the main road. “That way.”

  Mom leaned around Mariel and looked inside the car. “Hello, Thomas.”

  “Greetings.” An old man waved from the backseat. “Mariel, stop wasting time and tell them where Billy, Walter, Ashley, and Gabriel went.”

  Mom smiled like a little girl at a birthday party. “Billy was here?”

  Mariel nodded. “And a whole gaggle of women and children came by, escapees from a prison behind the sixth door. They were . . .” She glanced at Lauren. “They were slaves of some sort.”

  “Where are they now?”

  Mariel ran her shoe along the dirt path. “This road leads to a warehouse at the back side of the prison where they keep a bus to haul prisoners for . . . well . . . big events, let’s say. Ashley is driving the bus, now loaded with escapees, to a shelter; Walter’s telling funny stories to the children; and Gabriel’s flying overhead to watch for trouble. Billy’s around here somewhere and—”

  “Billy’s here? Now?” Mom swiveled her head. “Where?”

  “I’m right here.”

  Lauren searched for the source of the voice somewhere in the woods. Seconds later, Dad pushed between two bushes, his face bruised and bloodied; his shirt torn in front, revealing a long gash and smeared soot; and sleeves rolled up to his elbows accentuating muscular forearms and clenched hands gripping a military rifle. “I heard something. Had to check it out.” He winked. “So who is this goddess-like woman with the lovely wings?”

  Tears filled Mom’s eyes. She spread her wings and flapped them gently. “Special delivery from a dragon courier. Whether escaping to the peak of Mount Hardin, journeying through the horrors of Hades, or waiting for fifteen years in prison, I am the woman who gave you her heart, and yours still beats in my bosom.”

  He laid the rifle on the ground and extended his arms. “Bonnie. My love.”

  “Oh, Billy!” She ran into his embrace, and they wept together, hugging in a gentle sway.

  Lauren sniffed. A tear dripped. So beautiful. Real love. A forever covenant, for better or for worse, and they had suffered through the worst.

  When they pulled apart, Dad smiled and reached for Lauren. “Come here, girl!” With a running start, she leaped into his embrace. As they hugged, he ran a hand through her hair. “I am so proud of you! When I left you in Hades, I was so worried. How could she handle being all alone in that horrible place? But what did you do? Cry in the corner like a baby? No, you helped save all of Second Eden!”

  She pulled back and gazed into his sparkling eyes. “Well, I did cry a little, and I had a lot of help.”

  “We all cry, dear daughter, no matter how brave we are.” He kissed her forehead. “And we all need help, especially at the gates of Hell.”

  “You and Mom are my inspirations.” Lauren tried to smile, but her lips just trembled as she looked at them in turn. “I love you both so much.”

  Tears trickled down Dad’s cheeks. “And I love you more than life itself.”

  “Much more,” Mom said, her own tears flowing.

  “Well . . .” Lauren stepped back. “I guess we have a lot to do.”

  “Definitely. And a lot to explain.” Dad retrieved the rifle and leaned against the Mustang. “Since I have a couple of broken toes, I was elected to stay here and guard Thomas and Mariel. Word from the escaped prisoners is that they left Matt and Darcy at the prison, so I was just about to drive there to see what’s going on. One woman named Anna said she stayed long enough to see Matt take down the prison boss, so she thinks they might be just fine, but we have to check it out. Thomas and Mariel think they should’ve been back here by now, even though Matt said to give him till noon.”

  Bonnie brushed away tears. “I think we should go.”

  “Just a minute. I have to move Ashley’s solar car. We found an auto junkyard across the street from an electronics store. That’s all she needed.”

  “Can we drive it?” Lauren asked. “I mean, Mom and I can go first, and you can come behind us with the Mustang.”

  Dad shrugged. “Sure. It still has some juice. Just turn the switch on the battery behind the seats. A lever attached to the right of the steering wheel is your accelerator. On the left is your brake.”

  “Sounds easy enough.” Lauren curled her arm around Mom’s. “Ready?”

  She looked at Dad, then at Lauren. “Well . . .”

  “On second thought . . .” Lauren slid away. “Ashley’s contraption might be better off with only one person, and besides, Dad looks like he needs some tender loving care. Broken toes can be torture.”

  Mom smiled. “Go on ahead. We’ll be right behind you.”

  “Someone has to check on Roxil,” Lauren said to her father. “We flew here on her, and now she’s resting at the main road back a little ways. Something’s in the air that’s weakening her.”

  “Thomas and I will stay with her,” Mariel looked back at him. “Won’t we, Thomas?”

  “Yes. Of course. With a fire-breathing dragon as a companion, even a weak one, we should be well protected.”

  “Perfect. I’ll get going.” Lauren jogged to Ashley’s makeshift car, turned on its electric motor, and slid into the driver’s seat. She grabbed the steering wheel and pushed the lever on the right. The car eased forward, as quiet as a gentle breeze. The wheels, not much bigger than those on a child’s wagon, rolled effortlessly along the dirt path.

  When she reached the main road, she pulled back the accelerator lever and pushed another lever on the left side of the steering wheel. The car came to a halt. She looked to the left. A few hundred feet away, Roxil lay in the grass on the side of the road. From this distance, it was difficult to be sure, but her body seemed to rise and lower in a normal respiration rate. To the rear, the Mustang’s engine fired up. Mom and Dad would check on her in a few seconds.

  Lauren breathed a whispered, “Thank you, dear friend. You are a most noble dragon.” She pushed the accelerator and turned onto the road. As the car picked up speed, she looked back. The Mustang had stopped next to Roxil, and Dad was leading Thomas toward the dragon while Mom was walking with Mariel.

  After a couple of minutes, Lauren arrived at a driveway leading to a fenced compound with a gated entry. She stopped the car, climbed out, and shook the gate. It rattled but wouldn’t open. A small building with a service window stood nearby, probably the control station. Mom could easily fly over the fence and open the gate for everyone. Maybe waiting for her would be the smartest move.

  The scales on her back tingled. Sounds magnified—a bird, a frog, and . . . a voice? Matt’s voice? Yes, Matt was talking, but to whom? The tingles spiked. Like replays from a dark dream, another voice pierced her mind, the voice of a callous killer, from the hellish mouth of the demon who murdered her foster parents and Micaela, who kidnapped and tortured Mom, and who threatened to lay the world to waste. Tamiel. This beast who mocked God had to be stopped once and for all.

  Lauren looked up. Three barbed wires ran in parallel at the top of the fence. It could have been worse. At least it wasn’t razor wire.

  She checked the road again. Far down the narrow pavement, the Mustang still sat motionless near Roxil. Settling a blind man and his companion with their dragon protector could take a while.

  Letting out a sigh, she slid her fingers between the chain links and listened to Tamiel’s grating voice—so cocky, so pretentious, so evil. He would kill millions, even billions. He cared nothing for life . . . or love.

  She lifted the medallion and read the engraved words once again. My gift to you. My life. It is all I have to give.

  She let it drop behind her shirt. No one else could stop that evil demon. No one. Waiting for Mom and Dad would be a mistake.

  Lauren vaulted
upward and climbed. Because they would try to stop her.

  * * *

  Matt kept his gaze on the sky. Where could Mom be? She had had plenty of time to cover a few miles. A dragon wasn’t that slow.

  Tamiel’s phone chimed again. He drew it out and read the screen to Arramos. “Another agent is reporting in. A flatbed truck recently turned onto our access road at the highway intersection. Something wrapped in a gray tarp is on the bed. The agent thinks the tarp moved, though the movement could be the wind.”

  “No one uses that road except for employees and customers,” Arramos said. “This facility is supposed to be shut down for the day.”

  “It is. All regular customers were notified.” Tamiel furrowed his brow. “Is a flatbed truck big enough to carry two dragons?”

  “If they curled closely together.” Arramos’s ears twitched. “You are worried about Makaidos and Thigocia.”

  “Shouldn’t I be? In your condition—”

  “I know all about my condition!” Arramos snorted a plume of smoke. “If they are covered by a tarp, they are either hiding in hopes of a stealth attack, or they are suffering from the same malady and are too weak to fly. Either way, I do not wish to battle two of them, especially if Bonnie arrives on a third dragon.”

  “Yes, Roxil is a formidable warrior.” Tamiel stroked his chin. “Elam is likely the truck driver, so Yereq might be with him as well. If the truck recently turned onto our access road, we still have at least twenty minutes before he arrives. Even if Yereq and all three dragons come, we can ward them off by threatening our human hostages. Therefore, we can complete this task, and you can be on your way.”

  “Very well. I am no coward, but I have not survived this long by being stupid. I will look forward to battling them when I recover.”

  “Of course. Of course.” Tamiel pursed his lips and whistled a shrill warble. It oscillated through various notes in a narrow range. The drones bobbed their heads. “I have commanded the drones to watch for any signs of a dragon. They will warn us.”