Sugar & Squall

by J. Round

  I made my mind up while he was distracted, heart pumping afresh. I turned and ran as fast as I could. I put one foot in front of the other. I was out of options. I would draw the Eagle away and work out the rest from there.

  I decided to head for the chapel and hide. Buy time. Clear my head.

  A bullet zipped past me and into the ground to my left, sending dirt ricocheting off my shin. He’s aiming for your legs.

  Another shot. Too close, the mud spraying up.

  The Eagle was somewhere behind me, but all I could feel was the slant of the rain, tiny spear-points pressing against exposed skin.

  I sprinted, so fast, building speed, building distance.

  Thunder boomed down again, crashing into the shallow valley below, and there was the chapel, perched like a stranger about to leap into the ocean, slide off into the sea.

  I turned back to see the Eagle had disappeared from sight, not that I could see much past the hill.

  The chapel came into view. With the background of the storm, it really did like look like a deck of cards teetering on the edge of a table. Some of the side boards flapped or bended in the wind. Creaks and groans emanated from every side. It was the last place I wanted to be in these conditions.

  There’s no choice, I told myself.

  Reluctantly, I ran through the entrance. It had been light and open with Logan. Now, with the storm, it was hard to distinguish anything inside but jagged shapes and planes. Everything had closed in. Wind and rain howled around the interior. Being blown over was one issue, but when I stepped on the first board and felt how slippery the surface had become, I realized there were more dangerous obstacles at hand.

  I stood behind the doorway and watched through the cracks. Slowly, something emerged past the hill. The Eagle was coming, and the best hiding place was below.

  Carefully, I moved from board to board. I’d paid close attention when Logan had led and knew the best path was directly down the middle between the pews.

  Most of the wind was being funneled through a triangular opening in the roof, which created a whistling resonance even more terrifying than the walk itself.

  The ocean felt like it was literally under my feet. Rain flew about the room, making it hard to see.

  I stepped up onto the small stage at the back and dragged the rug aside, pulling the trapdoor open only to reveal a vortex of wet bluster. I eased down onto the ladder, the wood heavy on my skin. With my head just past the top of the trapdoor I reached up onto the stage and dragged the rug over the top, just as I lowered my head and the trapdoor to see the Eagle step through the chapel door.

  I swallowed hard. Had he seen me?

  I moved down the ladder fast, visualizing Logan waiting in the cave below.

  Above, I could see the Eagle moving between the floorboards. One of them cracked and I stopped dead, fearful he’d set into motion some perilous chain reaction.

  The ocean had been stirred up into a washy soup of white and black below. It heaved itself against the cliff-face, the force of each impact sending a tremor up the rocks. It was laying siege to the island.

  The ladder was moving with the wind, twisting against the straightjacket of gravity that a storm of this nature imposed upon it. I was beginning to question its safety.

  The cold attacked me. It bit into my back as I struggled for footing.

  The rungs were coarse against my hands. A gust of wind flailed up from below and sent the ladder swinging out into the open. I held my breath as it drew away from the landing below, certain it would throw me off, but, hands outstretched, I managed to steady it.

  So much for being bolted down.

  I attempted to move faster. My shoes were wet and the wood offered no margin for error. My knuckles, ivory white against it, pressed painfully into the rungs.

  Again the ladder swung out again. I gritted my teeth, waiting for it to balance out again before moving on.

  I stepped off onto the ledge, not daring to let go until both of my feet found solid ground. I released the ladder and it swung out again. I looked to the trapdoor above and prayed the Eagle wouldn’t find it.

  My options were few. There was nowhere to hide in the cave and no weapons. A loose rock would have provided something, but the walls and ground of the cave had been smoothed by the elements. It was a dead-end. I could push the ladder out and attempt to throw off the Eagle, but the ledge was so precarious I couldn’t be certain I too wouldn’t join him on the rocks below. Besides, if the ladder were to come away completely, I’d be stranded.

  The trapdoor creaked open.

  I ran into the cave, out of breath and ideas. I hesitated in panic before deciding to make my way to the back of the cave, to darkness. I ran until the roof narrowed to the floor and I was forced to crouch there in the black, watching the entrance to the cave, waiting.

  The outside light cast an unnatural hue over the walls, like a twilight rock-pool. The Eagle appeared, with gun, silhouetted into the cave’s spherical doorway.

  I covered my mouth. He won’t see you, I reminded myself. You’re too far down.

  He started to walk towards the back of the cave, fifteen yards, ten.

  I shuffled back as far as I could go into the rock.

  He kept moving forward, slowly, savoring the hunt.

  At the point where the cave narrowed, he stopped. He reached to a pocket and pulled something out, bringing it over his head. His eyes were replaced by the reflective green discs that had so haunted me in the hallways of Carver. The goggles.

  He could see me clear as day.

  “Do not make me shoot you,” he boomed, his rasp reverberating off the walls. “Come out quietly. We’ll treat you well. You’ll see.”

  I remained still, icy with fear.

  He waited.

  “So be it,” he said, and continued his walk forward.

  This was it. There was nowhere to run any more.

  Five yards, four.

  What could I do?

  Three.

  I pounced up and darted around him, successfully clearing his sidestep. I could see the entrance to the cave, open and inviting, but the Eagle caught my back foot with his hand. He heaved it up and I lost all control, driving shoulder first into the ground and rolling head over heels.

  I spun on the ground to face him. He paced towards me, smiling and lifting his gun.

  “We can play if you like,” he laughed, firing a shot at my feet. I flinched back at the spark as the bullet ricocheted into the wall.

  “We can play all night.”

  He went to fire again just as my left hand pushed up against something. I realized it was a shackle, connected to a chain, what Logan had said they used to keep prisoners down here. I grasped it, whipping it around and up towards the Eagle’s face.

  It took all my strength, but it was worth it. The chain smashed into the side of his head.

  The Eagle cried out, falling sideways and adding pressure to the gun’s trigger to fire a string of shots into the cave’s depths.

  I reached for the gun, but he held tight. I pushed him over, climbing on top and attempting to wrestle the gun free. Blood was spilling from the area around his right ear. His eyes were wide, mad.

  I drove my free elbow into his chest. It was like concrete. I felt the gun slip from his fingers and into my possession. At the same time something rose up between us, and before I could react I realized it was his boot. He leveled it against my stomach and kicked out.

  The impact winded me. I was flung off and onto the cave floor, the gun sliding out towards the cave’s entrance. My mouth and eyes opened to their extremity.

  My chest hurt dreadfully. I couldn’t find air. It had evaporated before me. Finally, my lungs started to fill only to be stifled as the Eagle rolled on top of me.

  His weight crushed me all over. His hands went to my throat. I was in trouble. There was light between us, the roar of the ocean filling the cave and his thumbs pressing down on my windpipe. I visualized blood vessels burstin
g. The world would fade out into a pinprick and there’d be numbness to it all. Instead, everything was red and fiery. My muscles contorted, looking for escape as fresh blood ran down the Eagle’s crescent, dripping from his chin and onto my cheek.

  I reached my arms up to his face, but he pulled back out of reach. It was useless.

  I’d lose consciousness soon, and then what. He’d drag me out of here? Tie me up?

  I shook beneath him. His blood, wet and warm, continued dripping onto my face. The Eagle’s eyes went inhumanly open and his grip increased until choking seemed inevitable. I tilted my head back but all I could see was the back of the cave, black.

  He smiled. He was enjoying it.

  I thought of Logan, and I remembered Foamhenge.

  I rolled my hips and shoulders right, enough to get my left foot flat. I levered myself upwards, rolling all the while, creating a bridge just like Logan had showed me. But it wouldn’t be enough alone.

  The Eagle strained to keep me down, the pressure on my throat letting up ever so slightly. I made my move, tilting my head now with enough distance to sink my teeth into his arm. I bit down, hard, tasting hair and skin, then blood.

  The Eagle cried out.

  The grip on my neck loosened completely, just enough for me to rise up, thrusting my palm into his chin, his teeth collecting together like broken China. He reeled to the side and I was pushed out from under his body, moving quickly to the front of the cave.

  I found the gun, raised it, applied pressure to the trigger.

  Bright light strobed the cave walls. I saw a string of shots strike the Eagle in his chest, moving upward toward his shoulder as I lost control of the gun. The Eagle flailed back, lifeless, into the darkness. I could only just see the body on the floor, a shadowy heap.

  My finger was still pressing the trigger, but the gun was exhausted of bullets. I let it drop to the floor and turned.

  I made it to the ladder. It seemed even nature was on my side now. The wind had died down enough to keep the ladder straight. I easily made it up and into the chapel.

  I traversed across the boards like I’d been here countless times before and made it into the open, sprinting for Carver, for Logan. Nothing was easy. I was sure my body had aged a lifetime, but the thought of him drove me on.

  “Please, please,” I begged aloud, syllables lumpy from my stride.

  I heard my name. Something zipped past my left ear. It left a tracer of bright orange extending in a dead-straight line up the hill. It seemed like a full second before sound followed. I turned my head.

  When I had extended my neck fully, I saw the Eagle, through the rain in the distance. There was a flash again.

  He was alive.

  He had the gun.

  He had bullets.

  He was pissed.

  He wasn’t shooting for my legs anymore.

  The gun barrel tilted left and I knew it would find its mark. It was certain. I could see his smile. He looked manic, crazed. He didn’t care about taking me hostage any more. This would be the kill-shot. My life would end here.

  All that existed at that moment was my heartbeat. I could hear it in my head. It blocked out everything else. My whole body was one thriving, pumping mass.

  Lightning cracked in the distance and Eagle’s shoulder was thrown back. He cried out, dropping the gun. I wasn’t sure what was happening but I knew I was still dreadfully exposed. He went for gun on the ground with his other arm. I had seconds.

  I ran, full speed, toward him. His right arm hung limply, but he’d picked up the gun with his left. It balanced awkwardly in his left hand. He crouched, the barrel swaying in my direction. I did not falter.

  He fired. It was close, dangerously close.

  He fired again, the bullet pinging past my head.

  He took his time, waiting for the gun to steady. Just as he was about to shoot again I leaped into the air, driving through the rain with my foot extended in a flying front kick. It smashed into his chest, forcing him off his feet and flailing down the hill.

  I landed hard, tumbling forwards and immediately scanned the ground for the gun.

  The Eagle was holding his chest with his free arm, coming to his feet. I saw the gun, only a few feet down the hill from his position. He caught my eyes and followed them down the hill. He looked back, briefly, before turning and scrambling forwards for it.

  I couldn’t reach it in time, he was far closer, but I didn’t need to.

  Lightning exploded above. He turned around, smiling, gun in hand, poised to kill me. But even before he’d extended fully he’d seen the knife in my hand, the one I’d just pulled from the belt at his back, the one I’d seen glinting with light as he turned.

  I stepped towards him, knocking away the gun with my left arm and driving the knife into his throat with my right.

  He dropped the gun and clutched his neck. He fell to his knees, eyes full, before slowly slumping backwards.

  I had to be sure. He was on his back, his head to the side half-buried in the mud. Drown in it, I thought. Another bolt of lightning caught in his exposed eye, the gleam of it, but not the energy, dancing around in the irises.

  His jumper was torn apart and I noticed he was wearing a vest underneath, small indents running up it vertically. Bulletproof vest. No wonder he’d been able to crawl his way back up here.

  Blood poured the area around his throat, trailing down the hill. Thunder boomed.

  I went to start back to Carver and saw something in the distance, moving down the hill, waving and yelling, holding something, halfway between the school and my position.

  Logan.

  But there was something else. The sound was faint and artificial. The din of the storm was cloaking it to some extent, but there was no mistaking. I whipped my head about, searching for its origin before my eyes fell back on the Eagle.

  I moved closer to the body, close enough to smell it. The sound could have been anything really, but the rapid rhythm in which it was pulsing troubled me. It sounded like an alarm.

  I searched the body, checking pockets, pants, before I saw a red LED flicking in and out of life in the Eagle’s outstretched hand. I prized it free and held it to the sky in examination.

  The object was metal, no bigger than a pack of cigarettes, with a pulsing red light at the top and a square button of the same color below depressed into the body. There was white text underneath, but I couldn’t read it until lightning brought it into clarity.

  ‘ARM’.

  I looked to the school, breath held, and ran. I focused on it, on Logan, but before I’d even made it ten feet, Carver exploded.

  15. ACCEPTANCE

  The blast was intense. The air around me seemed to buckle and part. I was knocked flat to the ground by the force of it. Ears ringing, I looked between my legs and saw a giant tendril of fire and flame reach into the sky from the center of the school before another explosion blew out what was, only seconds before, the far wall of the girls’ dormitories. Most of the windows of the center building were gone, and now smoke and tongues of flame darted out and up the walls until all was a seething conflagration of fire.

  The structure itself had fared fairly well. Most of the supporting beams and walls were intact, but everything inside – desks, papers, furniture – was feeding the fire so that what was once Carver was now little more than a stony volcano, erupting into the night.

  I couldn’t see Logan.

  A ball of ice solidified in the very pit of my stomach as I realized the hellish reality before my eyes. As if to drive it home, a great gust of honey flame belched out from the top of the school. It twisted towards the heavens like some pyroclastic plastic bag caught in the wind.

  I found my legs and walked unsteadily. A foreign smell filled my nostrils. Blood seemed to be in the air itself. It settled on my tongue. I pushed my teeth across its surface, trying to rid my mouth of its iron bite. A few feet in front of me was a textbook aflame, the title, Fundamentals of Physics, slowly evaporating let
ter by letter as a black, ashen army marched across its surface.

  I spotted Logan further ahead, picking himself up from the earth. He’d been too close to the school, far too close.

  I pressed my tongue to the roof of the mouth and realized it was dry. I couldn’t slow my beating heart. It was racing away from me. A rush of cold filtered through my body beneath my clothes and I knew, somewhere, I’d fallen into shock.

  I focused on steady breathing. The abyss that had been looming all this while had now opened up fully. I was falling and it was folding over on me.

  I looked to Logan and my resolve began to grow stronger. The shock started to slip off. I moved faster up, finding a center of balance and felt adrenaline, hot as the inferno before me, flow through my veins like a molten river.

  Then he was there before me, on his feet and together.

  He looked terrified at first. I didn’t know what was going on. Things had been so completely nonsensical I could no longer trust my wits. I’d been seeing things all night, so was it not plausible this being in front of me was another grand illusion of my mind?

  “It’s me,” he got out, his words gravelly. With that, every inch of doubt that had accumulated was stripped away in an instant, but he crumpled from the midriff over, dropping the gun he’d been cradling. I swooped in, attempting to right his frame but feeling it fall upon me with its full weight instead.

  I circled around until we were side by side, supporting him at the waist.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he said, loudly, reaching to his inner ear.

  “Can you walk?” I asked, raising my voice and suddenly terrified myself.

  He nodded.

  I made the snap decision we’d head towards the pier. No one could miss the fire. A column of it raged a good fifty yards into the air before another, even wider stack of smoke bellowed into the sky above. Someone would see it, and when they did, the area around the pier would be the most obvious place to be found. That was where we’d go.

  The storm has passed and was now moving out into the ocean. I helped move Logan as best I could, but it was counter-productive. Every time we’d step, his weight would overpower me. With each movement, he’d wince, attempting to stifle it through clenched teeth.