Flawed (Perfection)

by J. L. Spelbring

  The sweater and jeans Ellyssa wore stuck to her uncomfortably, constrictingly. Sweat dribbled from her hairline and ran down the back of her neck. Unlike the cold temperatures outside, the tunnel was relatively warm, like an early spring day. She eyed Rein’s loose-fitting camo pants, riding low on his waist, and T-shirt, wishing she’d also worn what she considered the Renegades’ uniform.

  They must have jogged at least three or four kilometers; probably about fifteen minutes total had elapsed, but it seemed longer—much longer. Every time Ellyssa had thought the “Underground Railroad” ended, she was disappointed when it instead curved to the left or the right, coiled like the body of a snake.

  The tunnel just kept going and going and going.

  Not knowing what had become of Tim or Sarah made it worse. She comforted herself knowing that her hosts had been through this before. That they were prepared for anything. The surprise of the tunnel had proven so. Tim was ready for any possible scenario.

  They will be fine.

  Woody’s voice broke into Ellyssa’s reverie. “What’s that up ahead?”

  Slowing down, Ellyssa steadied the beam ahead. Something wooden and long leaned on its side against the dirt wall. “I think it’s a ladder.”

  “Is that the end?” Trista asked, her words coming in short bursts.

  “I hope so,” Rein replied, facing Ellyssa, his face pale with fear, his hair a drooping mess. Somehow, he managed a smile, trying to reassure her. He brushed his lips against her cheek. “Together.”

  Ellyssa moved closer and was partly relieved to confirm they were finally at the end of the tunnel. And partly disappointed as the beam revealed the condition of their escape.

  Woody set the duffle bag he’d been carrying down and pulled the ladder off the ground, He held it at a slight angle so that it wouldn’t bump into the earthen ceiling. Frayed rope held dilapidated rungs in place. One of the rungs broke off in his hand. “Well, I guess at one time it was a ladder.”

  “Ellyssa, shine the light up there.” Rein pointed above his head.

  Ellyssa pointed the flashlight upward. Slats covered a square opening about three and a half meters over their heads. No sunlight filtered through. She wondered where the hatch led, and if they’d even be able to move it. There was no telling what covered it.

  “That’s our way out,” Rein concluded.

  “How are we going to get up there?” Trista huffed, bent over, her hands resting on her knees, clearly unused to jogging long distances, something that would remedy itself if this first leg of their journey was any indication.

  “We’ll make a human ladder,” Woody stated. “First Rein, followed by you, Ellyssa, me, then Dyllon.”

  “I don’t think so,” Dyllon remarked. “You’ll leave me down here.”

  “They will do no such thing,” Trista said, straightening. Her hands moved to her hips.

  Rein chuckled. “I might not care for you, but I’m not that cold.”

  Ellyssa swung the flashlight down. “Do you think we can use the ladder to prop the door open?”

  “I think so,” Woody replied. “Rein, come help me balance. Be careful. This thing has seen better days.”

  Grabbing the rail opposite Woody, Rein positioned the ladder under the hatch and pushed up. Surprisingly, it opened with ease. As daylight crept into the tunnel, dust and clots of dirt fell.

  “Cover your eyes,” Ellyssa said.

  “A bit more,” huffed Rein, his lids scrunched tight.

  They pressed upward; the door swung back with a dull thud. Woody replaced the ladder in its previous location.

  “Okay,” Woody said. “Rein, crawl up on my shoulders.”

  Ellyssa shook her head. “I have a better idea,” she interjected. “You and Rein clasp your hands together and swing me up.”

  “I don’t think so,” Rein said.

  Woody nodded his head in agreement. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You’ll get hurt.”

  The thought of her getting hurt was what was ridiculous. This was something she’d been trained to do since she’d been a toddler—bred into her, actually. “Thank you, but you two have a better chance of getting hurt trying to balance on my shoulders.” Placing her hand against Rein’s cheek, she said, “I promise.”

  “I don’t know.” Rein glanced at Woody for help, but he just shrugged and looked away. Rein sighed.

  She leaned closer to him. “Don’t forget who I am.”

  The flicker of unease in Rein’s eyes dimmed a little. In the back of Ellyssa’s mind, a tidbit of conversation with Dyllon emerged. It flashed, then extinguished as Rein drew away from her hand. Time for pondering later.

  “Okay,” he agreed, disheartened, but still in agreement. “What do you need us to do?”

  Ellyssa set her bag and rifle down. “You and Woody overlap your arms, grabbing each other’s forearms, like this.” She demonstrated. “Then you will hunker down and on three, you both push up while you swing your arms upwards. Understand?”

  Rein took in a deep breath. “All right, but I still don’t like this.”

  Woody came up and faced Rein. Grabbing each other’s arms where Ellyssa had indicated, they crouched.

  “Just be sure to keep steady,” Ellyssa said, stepping into the cradle they’d created.

  Her heart accelerating, unease settled. She wobbled for a second before she breathed out, releasing the anxiety. Calm spread through her, her emotions fleeing. Her face fell flat as she stood straight. Any swaying on their part she easily counteracted.

  “When I say three, push.” She swung her arms back into position. “One…two…three!”

  In harmony, both males thrust upwards, their arms swinging above. Ellyssa launched herself, like springing from a diving board. She burst through the gap into the sunlit world. An icy breeze pushed her hair and jabbed freezing fingers through the damp sweater. Tucking her chin and knees in, she flipped around and landed lightly on her feet about fifteen centimeters from the gap.

  Exhilarating! She grinned.

  “Ellyssa? Ellyssa? Are you alright?” Rein’s frantic words chased after her.

  She looked over the edge into four upturned faces, lids scrunching against the late-morning sun. All of them wore looks of astonishment. “I’m fine.”

  “That was remarkable,” Woody exclaimed.

  The others nodded.

  Beaming, Ellyssa’s smile grew.

  “How about the rest of us?” Trista asked.

  “One second.”

  She stood and turned around. Evergreens and firs encircled her, their needled branches high and wide, like a natural fence. From Ellyssa’s peripheral vision, a brief flash of white glinted. She focused on the source.

  “Rein, I think we’re at the van.”

  A brief pause later, Rein answered, “Really? That makes sense.”

  “Why?”

  “Tim disappeared for a few minutes while I was situating things. He must have come and loosened the hatch just in case. Smart man,” he concluded.

  “Tell me there is some rope in the van.”

  “Of course.”

  “This is going to be easier than I first thought. I’ll be right back.”

  Jogging, Ellyssa popped into the clearing where the vehicle had been parked. Boxy, white, nothing to draw the eye, the van was unremarkable. Just an ordinary delivery van used for transporting materials. Perfect for them. She opened the swinging back doors.

  Less than two minutes later, she returned, a coil of rope hanging from her shoulder. Tugging on the thick cord—nylon, strong—she tied a loop at one end and dropped it through the hole.

  Taking the length in his hand, Rein gazed up at her. “Are you sure you can pull me up?”

  Pulling the corner of her mouth back, Ellyssa gave him an “are you kidding me?” look.

  Rein threw his hands up. “Of course.” He swung both rifles and a bag over his shoulder. Giving the rope a quick pull, he slipped his foot into the loop.

>   She stepped away from the mouth. Using one of the trees, Ellyssa braced herself. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” Rein’s disembodied voice answered.

  She pulled, her hands alternating back and forth, and the rope grew in length behind her. Soon, Rein’s brown crop popped into view. He grabbed the edge with one hand and yanked himself up. Wiggling, he dragged the rest of his body onto the ground.

  He stood, brushing dirt off his shirt. “Here,” he said, his hand held toward her. “Let me.”

  “I can do it,” she said.

  “I know. Let me do it anyway.”

  As Rein handed her the weapons and bag, Ellyssa gave him the rope. He dropped the nylon escape route down the hole, and soon afterward, everyone was safe on the ground. Their bodies trembled in the cold. Puffs of warm air escaped from their mouths.

  “We need to leave,” Woody stated as he walked toward the van. His hands were full with a duffle bag and knapsack.

  Rein dropped the hatch back into place and kicked dirt and leaves over the wood. Dyllon helped him.

  Trista gazed toward the north where Sarah’s and Tim’s house lay obscured by the dense forest and distance. “Do you think they’re okay?” she said, her voice squeaky.

  For a moment, no one answered. Rein, finally, broke the silence.

  “I’m sure they’re fine. Tim and Sarah are resourceful.”

  “But what if—?” Trista started.

  As if the Fates themselves had slithered through the forest, Trista’s unfinished question was answered. An explosion rolled across the earth, the ground rumbling in its wake. At once, everyone’s heads snapped toward the north where a mushroom cloud ballooned over the trees. Tim and Sarah’s threads, snipped before their eyes.

  Stunned, Ellyssa’s thought process jammed. Things played out in slow motion. The woods quieted, and the air stopped blowing. Somewhere, as if separated by a vast distance, she heard Rein gasp and Woody yell, “What happened?” Above the jagged line of firs and evergreens, a fire and smoke ball hung, as if in suspended animation, where she knew their hosts’ house had stood. Hazy, dream-like, comprehension fled from her grasp, her brain failing to make sense of what her eyes saw. Her gaze stayed locked on the billowing umbrella of destruction.

  It was Trista’s scream that caused time to slam back to normality.

  “No!”

  The single syllable stretched until Trista’s voice broke into a heart-wrenching sob. The next moment, Trista was bolting toward the treeline, her feet pounding against the ground. Dyllon was the one who stopped her, his arms wrapping around her midsection as he tackled her. He flipped around an instant before they hit the ground so that she landed on him.

  Still, Ellyssa couldn’t move as reality played out before her. She understood there was an explosion, but couldn’t quite connect that with the meaning of Tim and Sarah’s life. All she knew was her heart sank with dread, like a dead weight, through her belly, down into her feet.

  “Ellyssa,” Rein said. “We have to go now.”

  She didn’t respond. She didn’t move. She did nothing but stand there, her feet frozen.

  “Ellyssa,” Rein said again. His face popped into her line of vision, wan and dulled with grief. “We have to go.” He pulled on her hand.

  “I—” Ellyssa started, but any other words failed her. She didn’t know what to say. Tears collected in her eyes, blurring her vision, and rolled down her face.

  Rein’s face crumpled in grief. “I know.” He encircled her in his arms, his warmth penetrating her freezing skin. “I know. But we can’t do this right now. We have to go.”

  Within the safety of his embrace, Ellyssa saw Trista bucking and kicking as Dyllon dragged her toward the van. She screamed over and over again until he put his hand over her mouth, shushing her with words that did little to soothe. Free of the items that had burdened him earlier, probably deposited in the van, Woody went to help Dyllon. Trista was relentless in her fight to free herself.

  Numb, Ellyssa let Rein lead her to the van.

  22

  For the last four hours, Ellyssa had been staring out the back window. Her thumb worried the black cave pearl grasped in her hand. She found comfort in the rock and was glad she had had the forethought to slip it into her pocket. A constant reminder of the toddler and of the family members they had to rescue.

  The rutted road that hadn’t been used for years unfolded below her. Tires slowly crawled over the broken asphalt that jutted in uneven patterns, jarring them uncomfortably. Winter-savaged plants bent under the wind.

  Ellyssa hadn’t spoken a word—no one had. Her mind endlessly looped on a perpetual replay of the mushroom cloud blooming in the sky, the knowledge of Tim and Sarah’s death eating at her until her insides felt raw. Except for the occasional whimper from Trista, the slosh of gasoline in the two plastic containers next to Ellyssa, and the contents of boxes rattling, silence reigned within the confined space.

  During the whole time, Rein had sat beside her on a crate, his hand folded around her free one. Dyllon was driving while Trista sat in the passenger seat, her knees pulled to her chest and her face hidden in her arms. Woody sat behind her. Once in awhile, Woody’s hand would rest on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, then he’d let it slip away.

  Emotions were a twofold contradiction. Ellyssa knew they strengthened; she’d felt the difference in herself since she’d allowed bonds to form. She had no regrets, but it was times like these when her father’s words rang true—emotions weakened. No one was thinking clearly, not even her, if she were to be truthful.

  In the back of her mind, Ellyssa knew all of it was wrong. They weren’t doing anything according to plan. Trista was supposed to be driving, since her identity remained relatively hidden and the false credentials Dyllon had provided at least had her picture. Dyllon wasn’t even supposed to be with them, which created a whole new problem. If they were pulled over right then, all their hard work, Tim’s and Sarah’s deaths, would be in vain.

  It would be so easy to slip into her soldiering skin right now, to separate herself from the pain; Ellyssa looked around the van at all the long faces filled with grief and loss. What good would it do?

  Worry. Worry. Worry. Her thumb rubbed faster against the little round rock.

  She—they—needed to pull themselves together. Ellyssa wanted it all to change. Not to forget, but to react. Somehow she needed to help, but her inexperience, her awkwardness, kept the right words out of reach.

  She glanced at Rein. His face sagged in intense sorrow and his eyes glimmered with wetness. Gently, his hand tightened around hers. He returned her gaze. His lower lip quivered.

  “I love you,” he said, his voice soft.

  She closed her eyes. Those three words burned through her despair, finding their rightful home in her heart. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear them. Rein was her support. Her reason. Her hope.

  Opening her eyes to Rein’s face, Ellyssa saw faith flicker beneath the sadness. He hadn’t given up.

  “I love you,” she breathed.

  His lips curled into a sad smile as he draped his arm over her shoulder. “Welcome back.”

  “I really didn’t go anywhere.”

  “I know.”

  Shoving the little cave pearl into her pocket, Ellyssa took a deep breath and stood. Her arms splayed under the rocking motion, she made her way past the containers to Trista, not saying anything; Woody gave her a wistful look and scooted over. Ellyssa took the offered space.

  “Trista, I don’t want you to hurt,” Ellyssa said, placing a hand on Trista’s shoulder. A shudder swept through her friend as she whimpered. “I understand how you feel.”

  Trista turned her head to the side and shot Ellyssa a glare through wet eyelashes. “No, you don’t,” she stated. She hid her face back in the crook of her arms.

  Chewing on her bottom lip, Ellyssa sought the right words. None came. “We have to continue,” she tried again. “You have to find the strength.”
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  “Just leave me alone.”

  Letting her hand drop, she returned to Rein.

  For the next hour, time lost meaning with the drone of the tires; Ellyssa felt the air begin to change. As Dyllon continued driving down the old farm-to-market road, Trista’s sobs became less frequent, and Woody started to chamber rounds into the AK-47s, magazines, his shaky hands fumbling with the cartridges. Minutely, life had started to push away the oppressive gloom of death.

  Unexpectedly, Trista’s head whipped up, her eyes red and raw. “Pull over,” she ordered.

  The suddenness of Trista’s voice punctured the weakening bubble of despondency, and it seemed as if the van breathed out a sigh of relief.

  “What?” asked Dyllon, his head swiveling back and forth as he looked into the side mirrors. “What’s wrong? Did you see something?” His voice edged on panic.

  She turned to look at him, her face set stubbornly and her eyes burning with a fire of determination. “No. I’m supposed to be driving. What if we get pulled over?”

  “Are you sure?” Dyllon asked. “Are you feeling better?”

  “No, I’m not feeling better. Two more of my friends died. But I’m not going down like this. None of us are.” Her eyes turned toward Ellyssa. “We have to continue. Now stop the van.”

  Dyllon did as instructed, tires grating on the pebbles as the van came to a halt. Trista slipped out the passenger side. Dyllon climbed out and met her up front. She paused as he said something, his deep voice carrying on the wind, then Trista flung herself into his arms. Stroking her hair, Dyllon’s mouth moved against her ear and she nodded. By the time she pulled away, a small smile softened her face. He grinned back at her, and in that moment, Ellyssa saw what Detective Angela Petersen had seen, although the detective had refuted her attraction. The male had a wonderful smile that reflected in his eyes. With a renewed bounce in her step, Trista walked to the driver’s side and looked into the back of van.

  “What?” Trista said, popping onto the seat. “Why are you all looking at me?”

  Ellyssa couldn’t see Woody’s face, but she knew her and Rein’s jaws had gone slack.

  “Nothing,” Rein said, a hesitant smile surfacing.