Risen Gods

by J. F. Penn

  The boy gave a slight smile, and his shoulders dropped a bit.

  A building across the street exploded, raining glass down upon Hereford Street. Flames caught high above and screams came from the building. The ground rumbled beneath their feet. A man fell from the upper floor, his body crunching to the sidewalk below.

  The boy dove into Sitona’s arms. Sitona turned and carried the child through the doors of the Water and Waste Unit. They would be safe here, at least for a while.

  Light came from the windows on the external walls, but it couldn’t reach any deeper into the building. They walked on into the gloom until they reached steps leading down to a basement. Sitona stared down into the gaping, black mouth of the stairwell. A soft, rancid pulse of air moved across his face, carrying with it the smell of rotting things and leaking pipes. There were tendrils of black smoke hanging in the air like a mist.

  "I don’t want to go down there," the boy whispered.

  "Neither do I," Sitona said, ruffling the boy’s hair. "If this floor collapses we’ll die down there. Let's go this way instead."

  Sitona led the way deeper into the building, down a corridor where a single shaft of thin light fell on the dull grey industrial carpet. At the first open door he turned into a cramped office, the boy by his side. Empty shelves hung on the wall, but the three-ring binders that had been stacked on them lay on the ground like birds with broken wings. There was a half-full water cooler and a stack of single-serve cereal boxes beneath it.

  "Someone must have liked eating at their desk," Sitona said, waving the child inside. He noticed a set of keys dangling from the knob, the one for the room still in the lock. There were no windows.

  "Get yourself some cereal and a drink of water. You’ll be safe here."

  The boy scooted inside, grabbing a box of Coco Pops. Sitona smiled and yanked the keys from the knob. He shoved them in his pocket while the boy stuffed handfuls of dry cereal into his mouth.

  "What's your name?" Sitona asked.

  "Josh," the boy said between mouthfuls.

  "How old are you, Josh?"

  "Nine."

  "Good, good," Sitona said. "What happened to your parents?"

  "The building came down. They couldn’t get out."

  "So they died?"

  The boy nodded. He stopped eating and looked at Sitona through a veil of tears.

  "I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

  "No."

  "Any other relatives in Christchurch?"

  "No."

  Josh stood and took a step towards the door. Sitona stepped sideways and blocked his exit from the room.

  "I’m gonna take care of you now. I’ll keep you safe. First thing I gotta do is lock the door and keep the bad people from getting inside."

  "With you?" Josh asked.

  "No. I have to stay at the main door and make sure they don’t get in that way. I’m going to lock you in to protect you, alright?"

  Josh's eyes darted around the room, looking for escape. Sitona took a step towards the door and grabbed the handle.

  "Just go to sleep," he said. "I’ll be back for you."

  Josh ran towards him, but Sitona was too fast.

  He stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut, locking it. The boy pounded on the other side and cried out.

  "Let me out!"

  Sitona slid the keys into his pocket and walked to the front of the building. He took out his phone, then hesitated for a moment. His heart pounded, but he was committed now.

  He looked out into the darkness and blocked out the boy’s screams. Business was business, and the kid would probably be dead without him.

  He dialed his cousin’s number again,

  "Things are good now, and I have an idea. Market’s gonna be flooded with product. Then it’ll go dry once the government rolls in with disaster relief."

  "Cocaine? Meth?"

  "Nah, Juno. You can only sell that shit once. I’m talking product we can sell again and again."

  "Bitches?" Juno asked.

  "Think bigger. The whores always run away. I’m going with a safer play."

  "Oh, shit, Sito. I like how you’re thinking. We can get top dollar for kids."

  "That’s right. And I already got one in the stable. Lots of dead parents, which means –"

  "Lots of orphans."

  "Yep. We’re gonna be rich. I'm heading out to see what else I can find. Must be a ton of kids looking for somewhere to hide out."

  7

  The scenes of destruction only seemed to worsen as Lucy and Amber walked into Christchurch city center. The full force of the wave had crashed down here, mashing buildings to dust, crushing those within back to the earth. The encroaching night was a blessing as it limited their vision of what the city had lost. They had rebuilt once before, but as Lucy looked around, she couldn't see how Christchurch would rise again from this.

  There was a tension in the air, as if the collective energy of a suffering people had risen into a cloud that hung over the city. The aftershocks kept coming sporadically, pulsing through the earth.

  A scream pierced the air. Not of grief this time, but fear. At times like this, people lost the thin veneer of civility that enabled a society to function. There was a flashlight in her backpack, but Lucy thought it was safer to walk in the darkness. They didn't want to draw attention to themselves.

  The sisters held hands, and Lucy felt Amber's grip tighten every time they heard a wail from the darkness. They walked in the middle of the road, away from the buildings, skirting around the rippled tarmac that broke apart the streets. Any houses that were still standing teetered on broken spars, lumps of concrete crashing to the ground as the aftershocks came in waves.

  Amber kept her eyes fixed forward, looking neither right nor left, concentrating on getting to the evacuation station. Lucy could only hope that the trauma wouldn't leave her sister in deep shock. She was sure that Civil Defense and perhaps even the military would have everything in order soon, but she would need her little sister to function in the coming hours.

  A couple limped across the road in front of them, the man holding the woman around the waist as she hobbled on what looked like a broken leg. The woman's face was bloody, her eyes hollow as she leaned on him for support. Lucy recognized the woman, Mrs Bennett, a history teacher she had once known at high school not far from here. She remembered the prim pencil skirts, the buttoned-up blouse, the woman's perfect hairstyle. Now, Mrs Bennett's long black hair was matted, her torn clothes covered in dust.

  Lucy opened her mouth to speak, but then hesitated. What was even left to say on this terrible night? she thought. She slowed down, holding Amber back to let the couple pass in front of them on the road, heading for the darkness of the houses beyond.

  As they crossed, there was a sudden hiss of leaking gas. The ground split as a fissure opened up in the road directly in front of the couple.

  A plume of hot steam rushed upwards.

  The pair screamed as they were caught in the middle of the flow. The man instinctively propelled himself forward, but Mrs Bennett tripped and dropped to the ground. She writhed as boiling steam surrounded her and agonized screams wracked the air.

  The man turned back.

  "Miriam," he shouted. His voice cracked as he tried to reach her but was driven back by the intensity of the heat. The woman curled on the ground and was still. The man turned in desperation to Lucy and Amber. "Please, help me."

  Lucy had seen thermal burns from steam. Mrs Bennett was as good as dead because there was no way to treat her here, no way to get her to a burns unit which would be swamped anyway. The doctor part of her wanted to stay and help, but she also understood the nature of triage. There was nothing they could do. Lucy tugged on Amber's hand, pulling her away quickly to the side of the road, skirting the dreadful scene and walking quickly onwards towards the city center.

  As they walked away, Lucy's mind whirled. Guilt tore through her. She couldn't have sav
ed her parents, but she could have helped Mrs Bennett. The oath of a doctor was to preserve life, to do no harm. They should have stopped.

  What if it had been her and Amber trapped in the steam? Would the couple have helped? Would they have risked their lives for strangers?

  Lucy shook her head, willing the images of the dying woman away. But she wouldn't turn from helping again; she would join the medics with Civil Defense. She just had to get Amber somewhere safe first.

  The roads became busier as the sisters finally made it into the central area of Christchurch. Streams of people walked alongside, some in groups, others striding alone. Most were silent, while others wept quietly. Parents clutched the hands of their children; others helped the elderly. On a street corner near the Avon River, a man rang a hand bell, its sonorous notes echoing through the streets, a lament for the crippled city. The crowd walked onwards towards Cathedral Square, the spiritual heart of Christchurch.

  The cathedral had been ruined by the 2011 earthquake, the toppled spire a symbol of the crushed city. An innovative cardboard replacement had been used in the last few years. That was the focus of the crowd now. As they reached the center, Lucy looked up and around, noting that there was less damage here. Rebuilding in the central area had focused on earthquake-proof buildings, so it made sense that they would be more secure. A sense of hope kindled inside her at the potential safe haven that surrounded them. As the night progressed, they would need shelter soon enough.

  They turned a corner into Cathedral Square. Bright lights attached to generators illuminated the area and people in fluorescent yellow jackets used megaphones to direct the masses.

  "Keep walking, folks," a Maori woman called, her voice tired. "There's hot tea round the corner by registration."

  A queue formed in front of the tea station and Lucy and Amber got in line. Around them, people whispered of what they had lost, but even in the depths of tragedy, people were behaving normally here. Lucy gave Amber a hug as they stood in line, stepping forward slowly to wait their turn.

  "We're going to be OK," Lucy said. "We'll have our tea, then we'll register and soon, we'll be evacuated out of here. The rest of New Zealand helped last time. They will again."

  A man in a yellow hazard jacket walked down the line.

  "If there are any medics here, we could sure use the help," he called into his megaphone.

  Without thinking, Lucy found her hand going up.

  "I'm a medical student," she said as the man strode over.

  Amber pulled on her arm.

  "Don't leave me," she whispered.

  But Lucy couldn't get the dying woman from her mind.

  "We're OK now. I'll come find you as soon as I've helped out. You know that's what Mum and Dad would have wanted."

  The man pointed out a Red Cross tent on the far side of the square.

  "The medical staff are over there." He leaned closer so the people around them wouldn't overhear. "They need urgent help with the injured who made it this far. There are other roving teams." He frowned. "But they're only bringing back bodies at the moment. We're swamped."

  "Aren't we getting help from Dunedin or other cities?" Lucy asked.

  The man shook his head. "You haven't heard, then. The whole South Island has been rocked by earthquakes. There's even word of trouble brewing in the North. For now, the city has to look after itself."

  "I'll go help right now," Lucy said, even as her mind reeled at the implications of his words.

  The man carried on down the line, calling for medics and nurses and anyone who could help practically with the crisis.

  "Please don't leave me," Amber whispered again. Lucy grasped her shoulders and faced her.

  "We're Campions," she said, her voice strong. "Our family has been in this country for generations. This land is part of our blood. These people are our people. We have to help."

  Amber took a deep breath and then nodded.

  "How will I find you again later?"

  Lucy looked at the queue for the tea and then on to registration. It all looked orderly and well run. In the aftermath of crisis, the volunteers were making sure people were alright.

  "Stay in line and follow the directions of the volunteers. They'll have tents for you to sleep in, and hot food. I'll find you later." Amber's eyes were full of doubt. Lucy smiled at her. "I promise you. I won't leave you. Look how organized this is. I'll come find you later."

  Lucy gave her sister a hug and then crossed the square, heading for the Red Cross tent. As she reached the centerpoint, she looked back at the long line of people. She waved at Amber, smiling encouragement.

  As her sister waved back, the earth heaved.

  Lucy was thrown to the ground as a massive aftershock sent a wave of energy through the square. A roar of destruction filled her ears. A rumble came from below the earth and then the ground rent apart.

  Screams split the air.

  A huge office block toppled down, crashing into the square, cutting off Lucy's view of where Amber had stood only moments before.

  8

  As dawn broke, Ben drove out of the mountain pass and headed north towards the Franz Josef glacier. The night had been long, his mind filled with images of his grandfather's end, the grisly scene replaying over and over. He still didn't understand what the hell was going on, but he had to accept that this was more than a natural disaster now. Whatever the truth, he would take the talisman to the ice. The question was, where was the cave?

  Ben pulled over and took the talisman from its box. He tied it round his neck, tucking it inside his shirt so it lay against his skin. It pulsed there like a living thing. A strange sensation, but it didn't feel like the black smoke. Perhaps it would show him where it belonged. Ben shook his head at the thought. Not so long ago, he had dismissed the myths. Look at him now.

  He drove on and soon reached the small town servicing tourist trips to the glacier. Cars were parked at the edge of town and people milled around in groups. There was a military vehicle on one side of the road and a Red Cross truck on the other. People had lined up in front of both trucks to collect canned rations and bottled water. He definitely needed provisions before heading on, so Ben pulled over.

  The place was familiar. He had been up here six months ago on a stag weekend for one of his cousins. Just a bit of fun with the boys. This little town sure knew how to party, even if there only was one decent bar.

  He had met a girl that night, too.

  Gina had been working at the bar, a young American with purple highlights in short blonde hair that framed her elfin features. Her hazel eyes had sparkled as they'd talked that night, and he had definitely tried to impress her with stories of his Kiwi adventures. After his cousin had been carried back to their hotel singing rugby songs, Ben had stayed behind and waited until the end of her shift. He'd walked Gina home, the night air cool around them as they held hands in the dark. He remembered kissing her under the stars, his head spinning a little. She smelled of coconut shampoo and tasted of butter toffee. He couldn't get enough of her.

  But at the door to her place, she'd pressed a hand to his chest and leaned close. "I don't put out on the first date," she'd whispered. "But come back sometime, Ben."

  Of course, he hadn't been back and he didn't even have her number. He had thought about Gina since, but then Lucy had returned from Uni on holidays and he'd consigned that night to memory. Now, he wondered if Gina was still here or if she'd moved on like so many backpackers working transient jobs to fund their overseas trip.

  Ben opened the door of the truck and stepped out, walking to the back of a line that stretched towards the emergency distribution points. Beyond them, the huge face of the ancient glacier stretched into the distance. Franz Josef held enough mystery and danger to attract even the most adventurous visitors to New Zealand.

  A cool wind blew off the ice and Ben shivered. He felt shaky, almost feverish. He hadn't really stopped since the wave and the shock of the demon and his grandfather's death were o
verwhelming. The queue moved forward and he stumbled a little into the man in front of him.

  "Are you alright?" the man said as he turned around.

  "Yes, sorry. Just … worried." Ben waved his arms around at the crowd, shaking his head.

  The man nodded, his eyes darkening. "Everyone's heading north now. Trying to get over to Wellington, away from all this."

  They talked a little as the line moved forward, swapping news of Christchurch and Dunedin. Suddenly, Ben found himself at the front as the man moved away from the line. He stared straight into the eyes of the young woman who served the queue.

  Gina.

  She looked up, holding out a ration pack.

  "Oh," she said, her hand frozen in mid-air. "It's you."

  Her purple highlights were tied back with a red headband and her multiple ear piercings sparkled in the sun. She wore a grey t-shirt with the glacier on it and tight black jeans hugged her slim figure. Her nails were short and chewed down, but her arms were toned from hard work. The West Coast wasn't for the weak.

  "Hi." Ben reached for the rations, feeling like an idiot. "I meant to –"

  Their fingers touched as he took the packet and he felt a jolt of attraction. It hadn't only been the beer that night.

  Gina laughed, shaking her head. "I said come back, but you could have chosen a better time for it."

  Ben grinned. It was like they'd seen each other yesterday.

  "Let me finish handing this lot out," Gina said. "Then I'll come say hi."

  Ben pointed over to where his truck was parked. "I'll wait over there," he said.

  Gina watched Ben walk away, his steps slow and heavy across the parking lot. Something had happened to the happy young man she'd met a few months back – something more than the tidal wave and natural disaster. His physique was still as muscled and taut as she remembered, the full-sleeve tattoos of Maori design covering his arms. She remembered tracing the whorls, and how his skin had felt against hers that night. But his handsome face was shadowed now, dark circles beneath haunted eyes.