Invisible Dawn

by Weston Kincade

  I put her in this position. I should’ve been more careful, he thought, promising never to forget his mistake.

  Jedd wasted no time. He stomped on the gas and weaved through traffic.

  He found a shoddy motel some time later, slowed, and pulled into a spot under the awning. It was another hole in the wall, ideal for staying off the radar. He shut off the car and checked the time again, 2:45 a.m. Grabbing a ticket from the teller machine, he picked up his key and shot up to his assigned room.

  Madelin may already be out of time, he worried.

  He thrust the door open, stepped inside, and locked all five padlocks. It would slow them down and give him a second longer to live. Falling onto the bed, he sent his mind searching, mentally shouting, ‘Madelin’. After an unusual ride through a host of spiraling colors, he emerged in the sky above the phony hospital. He was pulled toward her, over the desert. His momentum increased, faster and faster, until he was speeding over white waves. The terrain coursed by with urgency, leaving him nauseous.

  I’ll never adjust to this, he thought pessimistically. Focusing on his objective, he clung to the hope that nothing happened in his absence. Jedd found himself drifting toward an abandoned replica of a small town, built deep in the albino desert.

  Maybe she’d discovered a place to lay low.

  As his concern percolated to the surface, Jedd moved toward a small concrete hut. It stood solitary and decrepit, but somehow regal amidst the ruins surrounding it. It was one of the few to survive the atomic blast that decimated this Survival Town replica. Much of the neighborhood had been reduced to wood and concrete rubble. It was now covered by layers of sand and vegetation. Jedd searched the dim ruins for life, but nothing moved, even from his vantage high overhead. Maybe there was still time. Drifting downward, he noticed that very little of the town was left. Small corners and concrete framing peered over the white dunes. The moonlight cast sad, distended shadows across the bleached landscape.

  He drifted into the midst of the pale devastation and was drawn to the small home. Through a glassless window, he saw the huddled form of his goddaughter. The sand in front of her was stained with blood as she picked large shards of glass from her palms, souvenirs of her recent escape. He passed into the small house.

  Madelin grimaced as one sharp end disappeared into the backside of her hand, emerging seconds later from her palm. She worked diligently, taking short, ragged breaths. The pain of the procedure clouded her eyes and blood pooled below, mixing with her salty tears.

  Before he said a word, Madelin looked up and asked, “Where’ve you been?”

  “Can you see me?” asked Jedd, his shock evident on his face.

  “Not unless you say something, but I can tell when you’re around.”

  “Something happened,” he answered. “I’ll explain it later.”

  Madelin glanced back at her injured hand. After a few minutes of searching for more hidden fragments, Jedd forced down his emotions and broke the awkward silence. “Are you ready to keep moving?” It came out vacant through the static distortion. His goddaughter noticed the change in tone.

  Glancing up, she replied calmly, “Sure, are we out of time?”

  “Just about.”

  It’s incredible how well she’s coping, thought Jedd. She’s distant … but I can’t blame her. No matter what I’ve been through, it doesn’t compare to what she’s endured.

  Jedd returned to the situation at hand. “We need to get moving before the military finds you. There aren’t many places for them to look before they check here. Bury the shards and any evidence that you’ve been here.”

  Madelin did as instructed and covered the crimson sand, but it proved impossible to hide as rivulets of blood seeped from her hands. The effort was difficult, and he could see the pain each particle inflicted as it dove into her open wounds. Every vicious speck struck at his heart like a dagger, but he watched her struggle through with pride. When she finished, she tore strips from her gown and wrapped them around her hands. Rising up within the concrete home, Madelin stepped over the covered glass with renewed confidence.

  A nearby explosion had renovated the place long ago, leaving an open doorway through the back wall. Peering out, she saw no movement across the bleak landscape. The white dunes shone in the moonlight and sparse cacti stood out against the rolling mounds of white pasture.

  While searching the outlying hills, Madelin whispered, “Where do I go from here?”

  “Northwest of us is a gate, and there’s a small New Mexico town beyond that. There are guards, but I’ll take care of them. I’ll tell you what to do once we’re there. Let’s get going.”

  As soon as the words left his lips, Madelin shot out of the ruined house like a race horse leaping from the starting gates. Hitting her stride, within seconds she left him behind. Jedd sprang forward, attempting to catch up as his thoughts went with her. But after keeping pace for a while, he felt drained. It was difficult to part the curtain that hid him from Madelin, and he began to slow. He had spent hours in this state. Unable to continue on his own, he stepped into her mind and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You sound better,” said Madelin as she plodded through the desert, the irradiated sand slipping between her toes with each step.

  “I feel better,” came the voice, “but I’m astounded by how well you’re doing.”

  “It’s hard, but I have to run a lot in the hospital, too,” she said between short breaths, “but with the added benefit of probes attached to my body … and my insides displayed on every monitor around.” Her words were filled with satirical hatred. Nothing more was said for much of the run as Altran attempted to maintain the last of his energy, but Madelin’s silent determination became clear.

  Before long, the glow of a bright light bobbed above the dunes ahead. “Slow down and keep out of sight. That’s the street lamp over the gatehouse,” commented Jedd. “Creep up to it, but remember to keep a dune between you and them. You’ve come too far to fail now. I’ll be back in a minute. Stay out of sight.” He need not have added the last. Her persistence proved all too well that she had no intention of going back.

  After his final warning, Jedd disconnected himself from Madelin. It was as though he were being sucked backwards through a small tunnel, before entering his own body with a jolt.

  This isn’t something I’ll ever get used to, he thought.

  Opening his eyes, the television’s digital display shouted, 4:52 AM. He had to work fast. The sun would be up in no time, exposing Madelin to all within view. First, she needed transportation. Jedd pulled out his cell phone and connected to the hotel’s wireless server. Finding the nearest rental agency to White Sands, he booked a car under “Gloria Ramirez” and scheduled it to be dropped off. The car would be waiting by 6:00 p.m. He smiled as another wonderful philanthropist unknowingly rented the vehicle for their cause.

  With a glance at the television, he saw that twelve minutes had passed. Time was running out. Next, Jedd hacked into the Communications Regulatory Authority monitoring all wireless communications. He first searched the server frequencies of area radios. Discovering some listed as unavailable, Jedd delved deeper and cracked into the classified military channels used by the departments on base. As the television display approached 5:20 a.m., and the sun peered over the mountainous horizon, Jedd took control of each individual radio terminal. Blocking the access point of the doctor in charge, he input his own instructions to the I-70 east gatehouse.

  Jedd watched his screen as the two soldiers in the shelter awaited their orders. A digital voice relayed his instructions, “All stationary Watchmen, proceed to District 5 research facility immediately for emergency orders.”

  “Please let it be enough,” Jedd muttered at the screen. He hoped they would disobey their previous instructions and leave the gatehouse unattended, but his luck had never been that good.

  Without waiting to see their response, Jedd disconnected from the regulating site and pocketed his cell. The
television flashed 5:26 a.m. as he leaned back onto the bed, slipping effortlessly into the trance-like state.

  I think I’m getting the hang of these transitions, he thought as he slid into the slick tunnel. With a little more practice, I’ll be a pro.

  After a stomach-churning slurpy ride, Jedd found himself in Madelin’s thoughts. Although nauseous, he was thankful of the direct connection.

  What would happen if I got sick in this form? he wondered. While curious, he had no intention of finding out. Settling his nerves, he turned his attention to the gatehouse.

  “The sun’s coming out and one of the two soldiers jumped into the patrol car,” whispered Madelin.

  “Good. That just leaves us one to deal with. Wait here while I check him out. When I tell you, make a run for the edge of the road and hide behind the nearest rise.”

  “Okay,” she replied. Breathing deeply, she prepared for the upcoming sprint.

  Jedd gathered himself before stepping into Madelin’s shadow. Without her support, his flimsy form was uncooperative. The pressure of keeping his figure together and willing it to move slowed his progress to a sluggish crawl. It was like an elephant had tagged along for the ride.

  The gate drew closer at a snail’s pace. Minutes passed before he arrived at the gatehouse window, but eventually he got a look at the soldier. The man wore a camouflage uniform but looked like he still belonged in school. In a failed attempt to appear older, the young soldier had grown a sparse mustache. Each hair stuck out like the quills of a porcupine. The boy sat casually in his army fatigues, watching a show on his cell phone. He had a booted foot propped against the counter. Although the soldier did not move from his seat, he occasionally glanced at the road and the surrounding desert.

  He’s facing traffic from outside the base, thought Jedd, so sneaking up on him shouldn’t prove too difficult, but I can’t pit Madelin against a trained soldier, no matter how young he looks.

  Jedd watched him from a scant few inches away, counting the seconds that passed between each glance out the window. The albino vista outside was becoming a shining beacon of blinding sunlight.

  Summoning a forceful whisper, Jedd seized the opportunity. “Come up to this side of the gate and hide behind the down-hill slope of the road.”

  His words came across distant and strained, but it was enough for Madelin to hear. She moved with swift determination, following his instructions to the letter. Upon reaching the gate, she flopped down in the sand and sighed thankfully as it muffled her landing.

  While he looked in on the uniformed soldier, Jedd peered back to make sure he had no shadow. There was nothing there. It was as if he did not exist. Content, he turned back to the gatehouse. As the sunlight streamed into the building, the soldier threw up his hand and shaded his eyes.

  Then, Jedd gave his final instructions; a disembodied whisper that sapped the last of his energy. “Slip around the fence and sneak off a ways, but stay parallel to the road. About ten miles away you’ll find a gas station and a car. Take it to El Paso and find a place to hide. I’ll be with you again soon … Gloria…” The last of Jedd’s words trailed off in static as he lost consciousness. His form dissipated in the bright sunlight like drying morning dew.

  Madelin moved through the open gate as soon as Jedd began doling out the instructions. Sinking down ten feet beyond the fence, she sought him out in the morning light. His final words were like the death of a lighthouse beacon on a stormy night. Seeing nothing but an unaware guard peering into his lap, she slowed her breathing and reassured herself that everything would be all right. The next step was to carry on as he had directed. She gathered her bearings and slipped through the waves of sand, keeping hidden. Once the gatehouse fell out of sight, she pulled herself up and loped into a comfortable run.

  How long would it take to reach the old gas station? she wondered.

  Madelin emerged from the bleached dunes of White Sands, New Mexico with a dust storm whipping around her. Holding her arm over her eyes, she avoided some of the oncoming sand, but the wind whipped the shredded edges of her hospital kimono in all directions. The gas station came into view far ahead, but appeared ghostlike in the chaos of the storm. Its obscure facade faded in and out with each wave of sand. She forced her legs onward, demanding that her feet keep moving. The hours of travel had seemed never-ending, but this last leg of the journey was almost too much.

  She ignored the screams of her ravaged feet and the sand-filled cloud clogging her nostrils, and focused on the gas station ahead. Its form solidified as she closed the distance. A few people stood motionless under the store’s awning, watching her struggle through the piercing wind. To them, it was a sight to behold.

  They would later tell the military investigation team that it was as though a supernatural being (demon and angel alike were attested to) had stepped out of the last rays of the setting sun, consumed in a white fire that withstood the steady barrage of desert winds. The one thing both witnesses agreed on was the unwavering green eyes that stared out from the white shroud. Both men stood stunned by the sight as the wind consumed their hats and fought to steal the clothes off their backs. Unmoving, they watched its approach onto the broken asphalt. Their tale went on unusually, reporting that the creature entered a waiting sedan and drove away.

  The onlookers stepped up to where the sedan had been and noticed a trail of wet, sand-filled footprints. The gas station owner dipped his finger into one of the petite prints. It occurred to him what the sticky red residue was, the blood of the angel. Before long there was consensus among the witnesses. The pale, fiery angel had been cast out and forced to endure the savage elements. The bloody footprints were the final proof.

  Once Madelin got into the car, she sighed, grateful to be off her feet and out of the storm. Her bandaged hands had stopped bleeding as she ran, but her feet had blistered in the heat and their soles were shredded. It was as though she walked the distance over sand paper. Sinking into the seat, she took a few minutes to rest before looking over the car’s interior. The voice had said for her to take the car to El Paso, but how was she to turn it on. Looking around the steering wheel, Madelin noticed a button with the words “On/Off” printed on it. She pushed it and was surprised as the car came to life with a steady hum. Lights appeared on small monitors, scrolling from side to side.

  A feminine voice then spoke up. “Hello, Gloria. Thank you for using Farasat Rentals. Where would you like to go today?”

  Remembering the last word her invisible friend had said, “Gloria”, Madelin now understood what he meant. In a very short time, she had grown used to disembodied voices and responded with her new destination, “El Paso.”

  “Thank you. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. The commute will take approximately one hour and ten minutes.” An automatic buckle slid across Madelin’s lap before the car pulled out onto the vacant interstate. The vehicle got up to speed in no time, and Madelin watched the dunes whip by her window with childlike intrigue.

  Wow, she thought. The hospital officials won’t be able to catch me now.

  As she watched the world pass by, her eyelids grew heavy and her head came to rest against the driver side window. Exhausted from her travels, she was cast into a sleep so deep that even dreams eluded her.

  An hour later, the feminine voice spoke up again and drew Madelin from her long needed nap. “Gloria, we are approaching your destination. Where would you like to go in the city?”

  It took a few minutes for the mist clouding her brain to clear, but as it did Madelin thought back over the last night. She could not recall her new friend giving a specific location, but after a few moments replied. “Take me to the town center.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” replied the car as it continued down the highway.

  The expanse of desert and barren mountains dwindled as signs of human habitation dotted the landscape. Old gas stations and mini-marts became more prevalent the closer she got. Madelin watched as digital billboards advertising everything from s
hampoo to soft drinks, gave way to metal buildings that pierced the dark night sky. They loomed larger with each passing second.

  The traffic grew as the car approached the city limits, and Madelin was intrigued by the sites around her, like a child seeing a city for the first time. Making her way through the town proper, she noticed painted fluorescent artwork on store walls. People sat on street corners listening to loud, blaring music. She could understand some of it, but most just left her bewildered and curious.

  Upon entering the business district, the huddled groups of friends disappeared, as did most of the artwork. There were more people walking along the sidewalks in suits and professional attire. After fifteen minutes of meandering through crowded streets, the car pulled up next to a towering reflective building and said, “Welcome to the town center, Gloria. Thank you for using Farasat Rentals.” With that, the woman’s voice faded and the hum of the car disappeared.

  The door opened without effort, leaving Madelin to stare into a world she never knew. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she stepped onto the pavement without a notion of where to go. Fatigue settled on her shoulders the moment she stepped from the car. An hour of sleep was just not enough. She chose a direction at random and headed down the street. Her body and shredded feet shouted in pain, so she searched for a place to hide. Spotting the crook of a building’s inset corner, she sunk to the pavement. She was unconscious the instant she felt the ground beneath her.

  Something prodded Madelin’s shoulder over and over, pulling her from a peaceful slumber. An unkempt woman stood over her in a dirt-encrusted dress that might once have been red. White floral petals danced across its creases, somewhat visible beneath layers of grime. The woman extended her hand again and poked Madelin with a pudgy finger.

  “Hey! Hey, you! You’re in my spot,” the woman blurted. She adjusted the cardboard box she had modified to wear as a jacket while she waited for an answer. “Get up. Move it! I ain’t got all day.”