by Davis, Bryan
“I will do what I can to revive your memory.” As she kissed him tenderly on the cheek, her lips trembled. “Someday I hope to anoint your cheek in person, but for now a dream will have to do.”
Her vibrating voice tickled his skin, and the fragrance of roses wafted into his nose. He drank in the sweet sensations. This seemed far too real to be a dream, but he had no choice but to believe. If she said he had to wake up, he had better get to work.
Closing his eyes and clenching his fists, he tried to refocus his mind on reality and strain his senses to tune into his surroundings. After a few seconds, Kelly's voice drizzled into his ears. “He's twitching. Look, he's making a fist.”
Something poked him in the side. “Nathan! Wake up!”
He blinked. This time reality flashed in his eyes. The girl and the domed prison had vanished, leaving only fog and the worried faces of Kelly and Daryl.
Kelly grasped his hand. “Can you get up?”
Nathan surveyed his body. The pain had returned, a hundred aches stabbing him from head to toe. “I'll try.” He pulled on her hand and rose to his feet, teetering for a moment while Kelly and Daryl kept him from falling.
He took in his surroundings, the glassy path and swirls of colored mist all around. A musical note, friendly but firm, made him turn his head. The white-haired woman stood behind them, a serious aspect bending her face downward as she glanced nervously both ways along the path.
Kelly held the camera to keep it from swaying at her chest. “She says we have to hurry. She's really on our side.”
“Our side?”
“Yes, she —”
The woman sang again, rushing through her notes. Kelly translated with a rapid chatter. “My name is Abodah. If you are truly the healer, I have much to do.”
Nathan reached for the violin and bow tucked at Kelly's side. “I need to ask some questions, like, what is this place? How do I get to the violin in Sarah's Womb? When can I come back and rescue those prisoners?”
The woman laid a firm hand on his arm. She sang again, this time more slowly.
“No need to play music to ask your questions,” Kelly translated. “My mate and I have learned to understand your language, though I cannot yet speak it. He knows the ways of your people, so I suggest that you heed his counsel as he leads you to the places you must go. While you are gone, I will work with the supplicants to ensure that you have a clear path to the instrument, but if playing the healing music fails, rescuing them could well be impossible. Yet, I will see what I can do. Let us have no more questions. It is time for you to go.”
Abodah knelt on the walkway and dipped her hands into the mist. Then, cupping a cloud of all three colors, she straightened and held out her hands. A stream of red mist drifted toward Kelly, while a blue one rose up and floated Daryl's way. Finally, a second red stream lifted from her hands and caressed Nathan's cheek. Soon, all three streams evaporated, leaving only yellow mist in Abodah's hands.
With a quizzical look in her eyes, she sang a brief tune.
“You are not from the same worlds,” Kelly said. “To which one shall I send you?”
Nathan laid a hand against his pounding head. Earth Blue seemed the obvious choice. That's where Clara was waiting for them, and they left the mirror there. They needed that if they were to go anywhere else. “I guess we should go to Earth Blue,” he finally said. “Is that okay?”
Abodah gave him a pleasant smile. She sang once more, and Kelly interpreted, this time speaking the words in song, following her tune. “That is the easiest option. I will send you back through the door you entered.”
She reached again into the mist and scooped out a handful of blue vapor. Then, singing again, she anointed each of their foreheads with her moistened finger.
“I am marking you for travel,” Kelly said. “The ancient legend has never been tested, but I believe this sign will lead you home.”
She turned toward the opposite side, spread out her arms, and sang a shrill note. The multicolored mist instantly parted, piling up on each edge of the divide. In the gap, a deep gulf plunged into a black void.
Daryl gulped. “Holy Moses!”
Abodah extended her hand toward the chasm as if inviting them to jump. Nathan looked at Kelly, then Daryl, and read fear in their eyes. He stooped and peered into the darkness. “So is it safe to just jump right in?”
Kelly sang Abodah's reply. “It is a leap of faith, to be sure. My mate pursued Mictar through this rift in the cosmos, and one of the supplicants told me that he arrived safely. I assume that you, too, will land without harm.”
“I guess we have no choice.” Nathan retrieved the case from Daryl, repacked the violin, and lined up his toes with the very edge. After what he had been through, leaping into a void seemed like no big deal. And, besides, the quicker he got home, the quicker he could try to solve all the mysteries and figure out a way to rescue Scarlet and the other supplicants.
Kelly took his hand, her eyes as bright as ever as she leaned close and whispered, “I rode on a doomed jet. I can do this.”
Nathan twisted toward Daryl. Wringing her hands against her chest, she slid her feet away from the edge.
“Come on.” He set the violin down and reached for her. “It'll be fine. Kelly and I have been through worse stuff than this.”
She stopped, her eyes wide. “Ever see Vertigo?”
He took a step toward her. “Alfred Hitchcock, right?”
“Yep.” Her voice trembled as she leaned away from his reach. “That's me. Crazy scared of heights.”
With a quick lunge, he snatched her wrist. “Then keep your eyes closed and hang on.”
“No!” She jerked away. “I can't. I … I just can't.”
Nathan huffed. Even though Scarlet's words were already fading, her warning about giving in to fear still echoed. He gritted his teeth to keep from shouting. “We can't leave you here, and there's no other way home.” He reached for her again. “This is no time to lose your cool!”
She leaped away and teetered on the opposite edge, her arms flailing. In a flash, Abodah was at her side and pushed her upright with a gentle hand.
As Daryl lowered herself to a shivering crouch, Abodah sang.
“She must go with you,” Kelly translated. “There is little time to lose.” She then whispered to Nathan, “What should we do?”
“We'll have to force her,” he whispered back. “We can't stay. Her going phobic might get us all killed.”
Kelly's voice sharpened. “Give her a break. Isn't there anything that scares you like that?”
“Not that I can think of.” Nathan frowned at his own words. They sounded merciless. Actually, lots of things scared him, but nothing made him lose his nerve like this. And, merciless or not, he had to be tough to get them out of this jam. He lowered his whisper even further. “We can't stand around and wait. You get on one side of her, and I'll get on the other. We'll take her kicking and screaming if we have to.”
“Are you sure?”
“You have another idea?”
She shrugged.
“Then, c'mon.”
While Daryl kept her head tucked low, Nathan crept to her side. As soon as Kelly stooped at her other side, he grasped Daryl's upper arm and pulled her upright. Daryl tried to twist free, but Kelly held her in place. Tears streaming and her whole body shaking, Daryl looked back and forth at her captors. “Oh, please. Please don't make me go.”
“We don't have any choice.” Nathan pulled, and Daryl hobbled along, though with her legs buckling, he practically dragged her across the path.
When they reached the edge, Kelly spoke in a smooth, quiet tone. “It's okay, Daryl. Trust us. Like Nathan said, we've been through scarier stuff than this, and he hasn't let me down yet.”
“Yet?” Daryl squeaked.
Nathan tried to hide a painful swallow. How could he be sure? Maybe this Abodah lady had no clue. Maybe she was lying and thought it some kind of macabre joke to get them to jump in on their own. B
ut he had to believe the best, and he had to give Daryl reason to believe. Softening his tone, he loosened his grip. “Daryl, we're going, and you can't stay here. Are you with us?”
As her trembling eased, Daryl gazed into the void. “It's … so dark.”
Kelly looped her arm around Daryl's. “C'mon. We'll stay together no matter what happens.”
Daryl squeezed Kelly's arm and closed her eyes. “Tell me when it's over!”
Abodah jerked her head to the side. Far along the pathway another white-haired figure approached. Nathan snatched up the violin, gave her a nod, and whispered, “Now!” The three bent their knees and jumped into the void.
5
FOUNDATION'S KEY
As soon as they fell into the chasm, a stream of blue rushed out from the surrounding walls of mist, wrapped around their bodies, and guided them down a dizzying corkscrew path into the darkness. Above, the edges of the chasm seemed to merge, like a giant animal's jaws closing to trap its prey. The sense of utter helplessness, falling without knowing when or if the plunge would end, jerked the breath right out of Nathan's lungs. Daryl screamed, but the rushing wind snuffed out her cry. Kelly's eyes dimmed until her inner light completely vanished.
After what seemed like a full minute of free falling, a sense of wetness brushed Nathan's cheeks. The darkness began to fade, revealing a familiar swirling mist surrounding their bodies. Seconds later, their descent slowed. The mist thinned out. The mirror, jagged and misshapen at first, materialized in front of them, slowly regaining its square form and reflective clarity as the fog swept away.
Nathan pried Daryl's fingers from his arm. “It's okay. We're back.”
She crouched and laid her palms on the carpet. “Terra firma! Am I glad to see you!”
“So,” Nathan said as he walked toward the mirror, “we have to find Abodah's mate if we want to know what to do next. I'm guessing it's Patar, but how do we get him to come back?”
Kelly, her eyes glassy once again, lifted the camera. “In the meantime, do you want to develop the film? I took quite a few pictures while we were up there, especially the girl in the dome. Maybe —”
“You did? That's great! I was trying to tell you not to.”
“I know,” she said with a wink. “That's why I left the flash off.” She angled the camera's photo counter toward him. “Only a couple of pictures left, but it won't hurt to go ahead and process the film.”
Nathan glanced at the mirror. For a second he thought he caught a glimpse of Patar, but nothing unusual appeared in the reflection. Patar's words, however, continued to haunt his mind. Play the violin, and all will be made right … Sarah's Womb … follow the wisdom you gain each step along the way.
He touched the top of the camera. Could the photos be part of that wisdom? He couldn't risk missing out on such a potentially important clue. “They might help,” he said. “I'll call Wal-Mart and see if they're open. The roads are dicey, but we should be able to make it.”
“Only if you walk,” Daryl said as she looked out the window.
Nathan set the violin on the floor and strode toward her. “What do you mean?”
As she backed away, she pulled a curtain to the side. “The car's gone. No sign of Clara.”
Nathan pressed his nose against the glass. Although windblown fog still saturated the area, he could see the entire yard. “She just left without us?”
“Or something made her leave.” Kelly peeked over his shoulder. “Maybe she had to escape.”
Nathan checked his watch. Five till noon. Only about a half hour had passed. Backing away from the mirror, he searched the walls. “Is there a clock around here? Something that doesn't run on electricity?”
“I get your drift,” Daryl said. “A time warp kind of thing. Maybe she got tired of waiting.”
Kelly pointed toward the hall. “My father has a clock in his den with a battery backup. Kelly Blue's father probably had one, too.”
“I'll look.” Nathan jogged to Tony Clark's den at the opposite end of the house and halted at the doorway. A wide-screen plasma TV dangled on the wall by one of its corners. A half-size refrigerator lay open on its side with at least ten bottles of beer lying next to the door. Three long gashes marred a plush recliner, and clumps of padding lay scattered across the carpet. Jagged slices ripped through basketball posters that lined the perimeter. What was once a sports fan's paradise was now the victim of a malevolent vandal, or worse.
A digital clock sat on top of a trophy case. The numerals read 3:36. Nathan checked his watch again. They had been gone for four hours! No wonder Clara took off.
He walked in and pushed the trophy case's door closed, using his foot to move a toppled basketball statuette out of the way. Shards of glass lay on the carpet and inside the case. Obviously a hefty kick made an entry key unnecessary. Someone must have been desperate to find something.
Inside the case, a folded sheet of paper under one of the trophies caught his eye. He pulled it out and read a scribbled note on top, “Foundation's Key.” The lettering was clearly his own. He unfolded the sheet and found musical notes hastily written on a hand-drawn staff. He recognized the style — the way the quarter notes weren't completely filled in and how the numerals in the time signature didn't quite align. Again, this was his own notation. Nathan Blue must have squirreled this music away in the trophy case for safekeeping.
After tucking the sheet in his back pocket, he hustled across the house again. When he breezed into the bedroom, Daryl lifted her cell phone. “I had a signal for a minute, but Clara didn't answer.”
Kelly cocked her head toward the garage side of the house. “If the motorcycles are here, we have wheels.”
Nathan laid his hand on his back pocket. Telling them about the music could wait. It might be nothing. Best to develop the photos and try to call Clara later. “Daryl, can you operate a motorcycle?”
“I've seen Ghost Rider six times,” Daryl said. “Looks easy enough.”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure. In fog, on icy roads, with high winds.” She pressed her finger against Daryl's shoulder. “You ride with Nathan. I can see well enough to stick to your trail.”
Nathan touched his shoulder. “Do you need to change your bandage first?”
“No. The bleeding's stopped. I'll be fine.”
After prying the Quattro mirror loose and packing it, the camera, and Nathan Blue's violin in a waterproof saddle pack, the three mounted the twin motorcycles and navigated the icy roads toward Wal-Mart.
While Nathan watched Kelly in the rearview mirror, Daryl kept a death grip around his ribcage as she sat in the saddle behind him. With every icy skid and blind journey through a dense fog bank, her arms tightened around his torso. Kelly seemed to have no trouble. With her head tilted downward, she kept her front tire planted in his rear tire's groove.
Nathan slowed down in front of an Arby's restaurant at the entrance to the Wal-Mart parking lot. At least twenty cars roared out of the main lot, ignoring the traffic light. Tires squealed. Horns blared. Most of the drivers displayed sheer terror — wide eyes, gritting teeth, and fingers strangling the steering wheels.
When the last car cleared the intersection, as if summoned by the wake of the frenzied exodus, a fresh breeze from the north swept the fog away and left a clear, sunny sky. But the wind brought with it a sharp chill, like the coldest day in January.
The frigid air beat against Nathan's dampened sweatshirt, making him shiver hard. Earth Blue's reflection of Earth Yellow's weather felt like a climatic roller-coaster ride. But what effects was interfinity having on Yellow? Was the nightmare epidemic he had witnessed there still going strong? Had their prophetic dreams spread to Earth Blue? Something had sent the Wal-Mart customers scampering away like frightened mice.
They parked the motorcycles in the nearly empty lot. Nathan dismounted, pulled off his helmet, and tried to call Clara again. After several rings, her voice mail picked up. He left a message, then fished out the mirror and camera.
<
br /> Kelly set her cycle's stand and slid up her visor. “You going in?”
“Yeah, but I'll try to stay in sight. You two hang here till I signal you.”
Hugging herself, Daryl shivered. “Glad to. Just make sure the signal doesn't include burned-out eyeballs.”
He hustled to the door and peered through the glass. Only the barest of lights illuminated the aisles, leaving the shopping area almost completely dark. He pulled the door open a crack. Obviously the store wasn't closed.
Raising a finger to signal “hang on a minute” to the girls, he squeezed through the opening and eased inside. Taking small, quiet steps, he scanned the massive store. Dim light from the windows revealed long lines of shelving with shadowed merchandise, but little else. The aroma of burnt popcorn blended with a cleaning fluid of some kind, and a low hum sounded in the background— a good sign that electrical power was available somewhere in the building.
An odd crackling sound mixed into the hum, like garbled music played on blended radio stations. It seemed to carry a cadence, a musical rhythm searching for a matching melody.
He returned to the door and held it open, waving at the girls. After a few seconds, they walked in, shivering as they pulled off their helmets and shook out their hair.
“There's not a soul in the store,” Daryl said, her voice echoing.
“I'll run the photo machine myself if I have to.” Nathan pointed at the ceiling. “But if the store's on generator power, these hazard lights might be the only thing drawing electricity.”
Kelly turned toward the registers. “Are those lights over there?”
Nathan set his helmet in an empty space on a clearance shelf and walked toward the vacant checkout lanes. Indeed, two of the registers in the self-serve aisle were turned on and seemed ready to operate. He glanced out the window. Snow. Heavy snow. Whatever reason the employees had for jumping ship, with this weather, they wouldn't likely be returning soon.
He stripped off his wet sweatshirt and gestured with his thumb toward the merchandise area. “Daryl, Kelly, I'll find the photo lab. You two get some warmer clothes. I'll need a coat … large, maybe with a lining.”
