Lightning

by Bonnie S. Calhoun

  Next Mari left with Dane after he’d gotten copious kisses from Selah and Mother.

  Selah and her mother spent their last minutes with Cleon. He barely had a wisp of breath left. He could no longer open his eyes fully. Selah kissed him goodbye. Tears fell from her cheeks and rolled down Cleon’s gray face. Selah brushed them away and moved to the side to wait for Mother.

  Mojica assured Selah that Cleon would be left where he could be found for a decent burial. Selah’s lip quivered as she talked. She turned back for one last look, then allowed Mother to pull her into the tunnel.

  Selah felt the strength in her mother’s hand. “Mother, I’m so sorry about Varro and Cleon. It’s all my fault.”

  “None of this is your fault, my daughter. Varro chose his own path a long time ago, and we were just part of the many ripples,” Mother said.

  Selah ran for the first ten minutes, tears clouding her eyes, but drawing strength from her mother. She saw nothing but a halo of light from the ribbon down the center of the ceiling. The farther she got from the Mountain the better she felt, and the more her head seemed to clear. She remembered what Bodhi had said about the tunnel curving, but she didn’t sense much of that. Strange.

  The tunnel straightened out and she could see Mari and Dane up ahead. That wasn’t right. They were supposed to be two minutes ahead. Dane appeared to be limping. Selah and Mother caught up.

  “Mother, I fell and hurt my ankle,” Dane said when he saw her.

  “We will make it better when we get out of here. Come, we have to hurry,” she said. She grabbed him by the hand and tried to pull him along, but Selah felt them lagging. Dane wasn’t moving well, and Mother seemed to be winding down too.

  Mojica and her TFs caught up. “We need to move, people. This is not good. We’re only through about half of Bodhi’s hour-long travel time, and my ComTex says there’s fifteen minutes left before the Mountain seals.”

  “What would happen to us in here? Would we be sealed in the tunnel?” Selah’s eyes darted around. This was not the place she wanted to use her last breaths.

  Mojica’s lips twisted. “I don’t know what would happen, but I don’t want to have to find out either. Let’s move it.” She turned to the TFs. “You two take Dane.”

  The boy started to protest leaving his mother, but one of the TFs threw him over his shoulder and started to run. The other one followed.

  If this had been any other day, Selah could have kept up. Little food and no sleep had brought her to the end of her reserves. A cramp stitched her side near her bad hip. She winced and tried to ignore it until it radiated up and stabbed her in the diaphragm. She breathed through the pain.

  They were quickly wearing down. Selah desperately needed water. Her mother fell behind, and twice Mojica had to put an arm under hers to hold her up. Mari held her up on the other side. They made a little better time with Mother’s feet barely hitting the ground.

  They turned a corner that Selah didn’t expect. She stared in disbelief.

  30

  Could she really be seeing an open doorway? Was this a mirage? Yellow light poured into the tunnel just as brightly as sunlight streaming through a window. The TFs herded them into the cavern. Bodhi restrained a screaming, clawing Treva. Selah’s mother, breathing heavily, limped to her side. Still Treva screamed.

  Bodhi yelled to Selah, “When you’re all inside, close that door or she’s gone.”

  “Is this the old man’s cave?” Selah glanced around.

  “Yes! Quickly, shut the door! I’m losing my grip,” Bodhi said as he struggled with Treva.

  Selah counted heads, leaned into the door, and pushed the massive slab shut. The seams around the doorway disappeared as though they’d never been there.

  She turned. Taraji walked toward her and embraced her. “I wanted to see that you were safe before I left to lead the Mountain people away from here.”

  “Wait! I need you with me for security! Jaenen Malik was a traitor, and I don’t know who else we have to watch out for,” Selah said.

  “We know.” Taraji pointed at Bodhi. “You are in fine hands with Bodhi. I’ll see you over the Mountain.”

  Bodhi released Treva and nodded to Taraji as she turned to walk through the cavern.

  “Why did you leave him in there? He was your friend!” Treva screamed, slapping and punching him.

  Bodhi didn’t strike back, he just defended himself from the blows.

  She raced to the door. “Selah, open it, please. Let me go back. I need to go back.” She clawed at the edges where the door had closed. “Cleon, my Cleon, I love you,” Treva wailed as she slid to her knees. Her fingers bloodied, leaving angry crimson streaks on the solid stone wall.

  Selah’s mother bit her lip and bent to console her.

  Tears pooled in Selah’s eyes. She couldn’t go to Treva or she’d break down too. She walked to Mari and Dane. Mari looked at her and gave her a hug.

  “Where’s Cleon?” Dane’s eyes were fearful as he watched Treva scream and rage.

  Selah bent down in front of him. “Cleon said for me to tell you that he loves you, but he was very tired and he had to go to sleep.”

  Dane squeezed his eyes shut. They glistened when he opened them. “Forever?”

  Selah nodded. Her heart broke into little shards that stabbed and cut her to pieces.

  Dane pressed his lips together. “Do I have to go to sleep like that?”

  Selah hugged him, kissing his head. “No, my sweet. You don’t have to go to sleep like that.” Not until you’re very old, I hope.

  A commotion stirred on the far side of the cavern. Glade and the old man whisked into the room and rushed over to Selah. Glade stopped abruptly, looking from Mari to Selah and back again. His mouth dropped open. “Mari? Is that you?”

  Mari smiled and stepped forward to caress his hand. “Yes, Father, it’s me. Selah and I need to have a little talk with you about sharing family stories.”

  His mouth had closed but dropped open again. Selah bit her lip to keep from smiling. She had never seen him so flustered.

  “Glade,” a soft voice said.

  His eyes came alive—a special kind of love. Selah knew he recognized the voice. He turned slowly to face Mother. His shaking fingers touched her cheek as a single tear slid from his eye. She took his hand and kissed his palm. They touched foreheads and remained that way for almost a minute. No words spoken.

  Glade lifted his head. “You look well.”

  She smiled. “As do you.”

  This was the only time Selah had seen Glade display this level of vulnerability. It warmed her heart. It was curious to see how natural the two of them were together, as though they’d never been apart. It was like a feeling of peace had spread upon the chaotic sea, calming the storm.

  The old man rushed out the door, then back into the room a minute later. “It is time. We need Selah.” He grabbed her by the hand. “And the rest of you need to clear out of here and seek higher ground.” He waved them away. “Shoo, go on with yourselves now.”

  “Why higher ground?” Mari asked.

  “I’ll explain on the way,” Mojica said. “We have power sleds for our Mountain people. Taraji took charge. They’ve already left. They know the drill.”

  “But we don’t know the drill,” Selah said. “What’s going on?”

  The old man hurried over to the far table and came back with a leather bag stuffed to brimming. He handed it to Mari. She sagged under the unexpected weight.

  “The Stone Braide Chronicles. They tell all you will ever need to know. Read them carefully. I put the Keepers’ journal back in there because it has things you will need, in addition to all of Glade’s documents. The digital trail was compromised a hundred years ago, so these are the majority of the ancient papers that survived. Take care of them and commit them to memory.” The old man took Selah’s hand again.

  “What will it matter? What will committing the past to memory do for us other than impress some bad memories?” S
elah wanted to forget most of the last few months and go back to being innocent and ignorant of the real world.

  The old man patted her hand. “It will matter . . . yes, it will matter—in about a thousand years, or eight hundred and fifty to be exact. There will be tumultuous times. They’ll have to prepare to do battle.”

  Selah tipped her head. “You’ll need to explain that to me.”

  The old man smiled and patted her hand again.

  She pulled free. “Wait a minute.” She turned to Bodhi. “I thought you told me it took an hour to travel that tunnel. How did we just make an hour trip in a half hour?”

  The old man grabbed her hand again. “That’s the way the tunnel is designed. Shortcuts, shortcuts. People always want answers instead of accepting what is right in front of them, tsk-tsk.”

  Selah pulled away again. “Well . . . next time please communicate better.” She realized that sounded stupid but considered it part of being overtired. She sighed and put her hand back in the old man’s. He led the way into the Reliquary with Mari and Bodhi following.

  The old man pointed to several spherical grottos carved into the wall. “We are going to prick your finger and put a couple of drops of your blood on the first, second, and third pads. The fourth one gets the stone from the necklace, and when they have activated the cycle I will press the button to start the last phase. As soon as the grottos finish turning, remove the stone and take it with you. You will need it for the completion of the Third Protocol. There will be a very short period of safe time after you remove the stone from the grotto, so leave quickly. I will say my goodbyes to you all here. That security lady Mojica knows how far away you need—”

  The old man clutched at his left arm. His coloring paled as his complexion turned ashen. His mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to gulp water.

  “Glade! I think there’s something wrong here!” Selah yelled. She didn’t get a response. She heard the sound of machinery cycling up. The sound hammered at her ears and she winced.

  The old man bent at the waist and clutched his chest. He coughed. His face contorted in agony.

  “Glade, something’s wrong out here!” Selah repeated with ragged breaths. Her voice echoed from the pocketed stone walls. She didn’t know what to do, but she was trying not to panic.

  Bodhi darted to the other room to retrieve Glade. The old man collapsed in Selah’s arms. She tried to loosen his collar so he could get air. His hand patted hers then slid off to the side. He expelled a sigh and went still.

  Mari clutched the leather bag to her chest. “What happened?”

  Selah brushed back tears. “I don’t know. I think he died.”

  Glade rushed in and dropped to his knees next to Selah, feeling for the old man’s pulse. He shook his head. “He hasn’t looked good for the last few hours. He said he was glad it was almost over. Poor man, he lived his whole life waiting for this single moment in time, and he’s going to miss it.” Glade sat back on his haunches with a resounding sigh. “Selah, Mari, I had so much I wanted to tell you two about each other, but you’ll have to learn the old-fashioned way, by being friends.”

  Selah frowned. “I don’t think this is the time for a speech. You can tell us when we get home.”

  Bodhi frowned. He ran his hand through his hair.

  Selah looked at him. “What’s the matter with you two?”

  Glade dropped his gaze. “Tell Pasha I never stopped loving her. I gave my private journals to Bodhi to give to her.”

  Selah looked from Glade to Bodhi and back again. “What are you two up to? You’re scaring me.”

  Glade looked up at Bodhi and motioned him over. He smiled softly and took Selah’s hand, placing it in Bodhi’s. “You are to take care of my daughter with your life.”

  Selah opened her mouth to protest but shut it. This had to be some strange hallucination because she was so tired.

  “I will take care of her as long as we both shall live,” Bodhi said solemnly.

  Selah wanted to laugh at how they were acting. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”

  Glade kissed Selah’s forehead, then he grabbed Mari close and kissed her forehead. “I’m staying behind.”

  Selah looked at him. “No. You can’t stay behind. We have to go home. I need time to get to know you.”

  He sighed. “Someone has to lock in the switch. It’s a fail-safe to keep the cycle from happening by accident.”

  “But no, it can’t be you. Who else can do it?” Selah’s breathing quickened. She looked to Mari, who had tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “He’s lying over there dead.” Glade reached inside his tunic top and pulled out a triangular stone on a chain.

  “That’s the same necklace Treva has,” Selah said.

  Glade nodded. “Good, good, then you’re set. Touch them together and then find the third stone. It will lead you to the right path. You will be complete and safe. Bodhi, take care of my daughters.”

  “No!” Selah clawed at his sleeve. “You have to come with me, Father. I need you.” Tears flooded her eyes. She blinked them back so she could see his face—remember his face. She hadn’t had enough time.

  Glade took Selah in his arms. “I’ve often lamented that I got to spend years with Mari but none with you. And even after I had you with me these past few months, I was so caught up in trying to find this path to the West to keep you safe—I thought there’d be much more time. I’m so sorry.”

  A new cycling level sounded. He turned and looked back through the other doorway. “We have to do this now. Time is running out. The poor man—he must have realized he might not make it, that’s why he taught me the sequence.”

  Glade moved a protesting Selah over to the grottos. He used the old man’s ceremonial knife to prick her finger and she flinched. A rivulet of blood ran out and grew to a great drop. Selah stared at it. Her blood looked the same as everyone else’s.

  Glade turned her finger over the pad in the first grotto. As the blood drop touched the surface, it was sucked into the spot and the pad glowed red. A little pedestal raised the pad and spun with the blood drop securely encapsulated in the center.

  He moved Selah to the next pad and the sequence repeated, except the pad glowed blue before the pedestal popped up. For the last one, he had to squeeze her finger to get a complete blood drop without pricking her again. That pad changed to green.

  With all three pads glowing and spinning, Glade mounted the triangular stone from his necklace into a matching crevice. A hum grew from the tiny sound of a single bee to a vibrating crescendo. Selah heard a new pitch. Another machine cycled on somewhere.

  Glade looked to Bodhi. “When that stops spinning, grab the necklace and get them out of here.”

  Bodhi nodded. Glade hurried back through the other area and into the far room.

  “But Glade! Father! I need to tell you I love you!” Selah yelled.

  Glade looked through the door and smiled. “I love you too, and I’ve always loved both of you, my daughters.” He closed the door, and even over the sound of the machinery, the clunk of the heavy latch echoed in the large cavern, making it final.

  The gem stopped spinning. Bodhi snatched it up, shoved it in his pocket, and grabbed Selah and Mari by the hands. They both protested, but he was stronger. By the time they had reached the main tunnel and could see the sun, the Mountain had started to rumble, making the ground vibrate.

  They broke out into the daylight and fresh, real air. Small stones bounced down the hillside, accompanied by small amounts of dirt and debris. Selah wanted to run away and back in all at the same time. Bodhi kept a grip on her hand and Mari’s.

  Mojica stood by with an AirWagon with its top up, covering the vehicle. They piled in and she slapped the throttle. “Hold on, folks. We have to try to outrun this thing.”

  The AirWagon quickly rose and shot off away from the mountain range. The acceleration pushed Selah back against the seat, startling her, and she grabbed onto Bodhi’s hand.
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br />   She glanced around. “Where are Mother and Dane and Treva?” she yelled over the sounds of the AirWagon and the rumbling of the Mountain. She suddenly felt panic. Did they get left behind?

  Mojica worked at pressing the machine higher and faster than Selah had ever seen one travel. “They’re safe with Taraji and the rest of my people. They had enough of a head start to reach the high point of the mountain range.”

  Selah looked down at the land passing by at a dizzying speed. She could see the road into Stone Braide. Off to the left, a steam vent opened between two scraggly, dead bushes. A huge jet of steam shot toward the sky with a rushing hiss loud enough to be heard over the rumbling. A burst of white vapor billowed over the road like sea foam.

  Mojica had both hands on the stick, fighting the jerky movements caused by the increasing percussion of explosions on the mountain range. Selah was transfixed looking back at the mountain range. All along its length, small stones and pebbles bounced and danced down the slopes. They turned into an onslaught of larger rocks and boulders rolling down the side with waves of dirt and debris. Trees tipped over and were carried down the hillside. The vibrations slowly increased to an urgent pounding as the eruption grew closer to the surface. The boulders bounced with the pounding, making it almost seem surreal. One boulder crashed into an evergreen, shearing it off. The tree continued down the slope with the rest of the debris.

  The pounding turned into an earthquake. The ground they flew over shook with great jerking movements, dislodging everything possible. Trees were falling, and on the ground she could see animals running up the hill. All sorts of animals. Ones that an hour ago would have been trying to kill each other were now running together to save themselves. But from what, Selah wasn’t sure.