He felt a burning anger at the men who had so twisted his world. What right did they have to tear families apart and burn villages? It was they who had sown the distrust that now grew in the woman’s eyes.
Surely a mother could not leave an infant to die.
“Set him down,” she said.
Lamech paused, wondering whether he really could trust her.
But what other choice did he have? If he offended the woman and she refused to take Noah, what hope was left? He could die in a day without food.
Could Lamech really hope to find another woman to suckle him in such a short time?
He placed Noah on the ground and motioned toward him, fighting every instinct that commanded him to pick his child up.
The woman stepped forward. “Back up,” she said.
If he stepped away, she could do anything she wanted. Of course, Noah would also die without her.
He took a deep breath and shifted back several paces.
The woman kept her gaze on him as she approached, dipped, and lifted Noah from the ground, holding him in one arm while her other slipped into her tunic. “I will take care of this child,” she said. “But you must leave. If you follow me, I will know. And I will kill him.” Her hand slipped out of her tunic, clutching a bejeweled dagger.
Lamech cried out and jumped toward her, but the woman yelled, “Stop!” and brought the tip of the blade within a finger’s width of Noah’s neck.
Ice flooded his limbs, and he resisted the temptation to strike himself.
Fool!
He glared at her and said through gritted teeth, “I will kill you if you hurt him.”
“You might be twice my size,” the woman said, “but I have a weapon, and you do not, and I have just agreed to save your child’s life.”
“For what purpose?”
“To do what you could not,” she said. “Do you agree?”
How could he? He needed Noah just as much as Noah needed the woman. A mother, no less, already gifted with the ability to produce milk.
And a knife poised to destroy him! Adah, forgive me if this ends badly.
“You will not hurt my child,” he said.
“Not if you do as I say. You ask me to sacrifice much, and I agree to do so. But I must ensure my own child’s safety.” She nodded toward the baby strapped to her chest. “You understand?”
He nodded absently, mind racing for alternatives.
“Very well,” she said. She backed away slowly, not taking her gaze from him, nor the blade from Noah’s neck.
Lamech stood motionless, watching until she disappeared.
Then he sprinted after her.
Part III
The Woman and the Man
“Now the earth was corrupt in God's sight, and the earth was filled with violence. And God saw the earth, and behold, it was corrupt, for all flesh had corrupted their way on the earth.”
—Genesis 6:11–12
Chapter 19
Elina knew the man would follow. She believed he was the father from the beginning, but couldn’t be too cautious. She had seen evil men use infants for diabolical purposes too often to trust a stranger in a war-torn land.
Every so often she caught glimpses of him stealthily following the trail she’d left. Broken branches, footprints, and soiled wrappings from when Jade or the boy would need to be cleaned.
Part of her was disgusted with herself for toying with him. But the time it had afforded her to examine him was precious. No true father would abandon his child. Likewise, no true father would let his baby starve. The truth of what kind of man he was could only be deciphered safely through observing the consistency of his actions from afar. Even then, she wasn’t sure she could handle traveling alongside him.
The burn of the memories had waned the past year, but she didn’t think they’d ever truly disappear.
Some scars healed too dark.
And so she waited. And watched. He hadn’t intentionally given himself away yet, which showed restraint and care for his child’s well-being. But how long could he hold out?
How long would I hold out?
“Forever,” she whispered as she gazed at Jade asleep in her lap.
The boy was beside her, but awake. His gray eyes searched the sky, drawn to the brightness yet clenched against the cloud cover transmuting the sun’s gold to silver. Hills rolled toward the forest to the south, and as she ate the little bread and fruit left in her bag, she wondered about him.
He was too young to smile. Possibly only days old, judging by how small he was. What stroke of fate had brought him to her, she did not know. But for his sake, she was glad. If what the father said was true, the boy likely would have died by the next sunrise without food and care. She could only imagine how desperate the man had to have been. And how surprised he’d been to find her.
Not nearly as surprised as he’d be if he found out who she really was, and what she’d done.
The boy stuck his tongue out and moved his arms and legs in a restless, random pattern. She scooped him up.
“Are you hungry?”
She brought him to her breast and he latched and drank his fill. Within minutes, milk drunk and satisfied, he fell asleep.
She tucked Jade back into the wrap she had tied around her torso, drank the last of the water from her wineskin, and picked up the boy to continue their journey.
She had traveled south toward the forest because the horned devils had come from the north. No reasoning firmer than fear of brutality and bitter cold drove her, for winter was closing in, and finding food would be of great concern.
No one seemed to know where the men with horns came from, but all agreed they were the most evil race to walk the earth.
Rumor of the devils’ savage brutality had spread wide. They slaughtered everything they touched. They drank their victims’ blood like wine. They burned everything that came under their possession. Soon, if allowed to continue, some claimed the entire world would be laid waste.
She looked at the children. Male and female. A perfect pair with nothing but light behind their crystal eyes.
If only the entire world could be like them. If only these two babes were the last people left, and the world could begin anew.
What did the boy’s father think of her? Was he thankful for her service? Angered by her distrust?
Or was he what she most feared when she lay in the darkness with two sleeping infants?
As she stepped over a fallen log patched with moss and crumbling with rot, a thick cord snaked around her ankle and yanked her leg sideways with such force she thought it had been torn off. Thin sheets of metal crashed together as her head and shoulders smashed the ground, knocking her breath away. She managed to keep hold of the boy as her leg was hauled into the air, and Jade remained strapped to her chest.
Elina blinked away the shadows and spots that threatened to overcome her as she swung through the air and the metal sheets clanged. She could only barely make out the infants’ faces reddening as the blood rushed to their heads, but they were squealing.
Hurried footsteps sounded, followed by whistles and harsh laughter.
“We caught ourselves something this time, brother,” said the first voice.
“Tonight will be a night to remember,” said a second in low tones, as if savoring a dessert.
Elina swung and glimpsed two men in soiled clothing before spinning away again. One small and thin. The other thick and shaggy.
She made certain she could hold both babies in place with one hand, then used the other to feel for her dagger. Her eyes widened and her insides chilled.
The dagger was gone.
The first man cursed loudly and sucked air through his teeth. “She’s holding a baby!”
“Babies,” said the second.
“I can count,” said the first.
“Do you have a problem with infants?”
There was a pause. “An infant?”
“Why not, little brother?” said the deep
er voice. “The world is burning.”
She had promised herself it would never happen again, but as she swung, only gaining momentary glimpses of her surroundings, it felt as if the world were falling under a heavy shadow, and the air was being pulled from her chest.
“Quick, let her down before she drops the children,” the deeper voice said.
“Hand me the knife,” said the younger.
Clothing rustled, and footsteps sounded close to the tree. She dropped about a foot, the rope rubbing bark as she was let down in jerky movements. Finally her shoulders touched the ground, and the darkness faded slowly from her vision.
The man sawed the rope until it snapped, dropping her legs to the ground.
She moaned and looked at her ankle. It was badly swollen, and the skin was bleeding. Then she remembered the dagger and tried to find it. Something hard dug into her shoulder, and she shifted subtly, felt a prick.
Was it the dagger? Had it dropped out of her tunic as she was hauled into the air?
The men approached and grabbed her by her head. She clutched Jade and the boy to her chest, screaming as they dragged her by her hair.
It was too late. She had lost her opportunity. And now they would all die for it.
Chapter 20
Lamech stared at the dagger in the dirt and momentarily feared the woman had caught him following. Had she left the dagger to tell him in which direction to find his dead son?
Of course, that would be insane. Even as the thought sped his pulse, he realized the dagger must have been left here by accident—which wasn’t much better, seeing that she was supposed to be taking care of Noah.
He knelt to get a better look at the weapon. It was unmarked by blood, so she hadn’t used it to fight anyone—or to stab Noah.
But he couldn’t think of why she would leave it behind. It was the most useful tool she could carry. And she was too intelligent to purposefully part with her only means of defending herself.
Was it a message? A sign of trust?
Strange way to show it. Better that she met him face-to-face with the weapon still in hand.
He walked his gaze in the direction the dagger pointed, then reexamined his surroundings. There were several trees, a few patches of disturbed dirt he would have to get a better look at, a vine—his back tensed.
That was no vine.
He approached and examined a length of rope slung over a branch, finding it looped at one end and frayed at the other as if sawn through. Its length had been fed through several sheets of metal.
If Lamech knew anything about surviving in the wilderness, he would call this a trap. But why would the woman drop her dagger near . . .
He swept the dagger up off the ground, sheathed it in his tunic, and ran to the patches of disturbed dirt.
Large footprints. None small enough to be left by the woman.
He stood, clutching his throbbing head.
Right there, between two trees and snaking around a set of deciduous bushes, was a trail. It looked as though something heavy had been dragged away. As he neared it, a yell echoed through the trees, sending birds fluttering and leaves rustling.
He crouched low, brought the dagger out, and followed the trail into the brush, struggling to keep his breathing under control.
Chapter 21
Elina continued clutching Jade and the boy, who were now fussing, moving their limbs with surprising strength.
“I’ll go first,” said the second, deeper voice as they let her drop.
“Right,” said the younger.
The bigger man smirked, his dull eyes set into a slippery face like black stones in a puddle. Over his shoulder, the younger one rubbed his hands together. The breeze bent the trees over them, casting shifting shadows over their faces.
“Are you ready, girl?” the man said.
She tried to twist away, but he ripped Jade and the boy out of her grasp. She screamed as he tossed them and smashed his palm against the side of Elina’s head, nearly blacking out her vision.
Jade and the boy wailed.
Spit flew from the man’s mouth as he commanded the children to quiet, raising his hand to smack the boy. But as his fist fell, he arched backward and screamed, sending echoes reverberating through the forest. His eyes rolled back, and his breath crackled in his throat as he flopped to the ground, legs crumpled beneath him.
The younger man stepped over him, glancing down and retrieving a knife from the back of the older man’s neck before cleaning it off on his tunic.
For a moment, Elina felt a rush of hope. The younger man had attacked his own brother. Had it been because of what the brute planned to do with Jade and the boy?
But even as she thought this, the dull smile that spread across his sweating face revealed different motives. He gripped her clothing with long fingers, trying to tear it.
She punched him in the throat, and he coughed and struck her back. Then, as he tried to step over her, she thrust her knee into his groin, sending him sprawling.
She tried to get up, but the pain in her ankle sent her back to the ground. Her injury was worse than she first thought. He crawled toward her, angry breath throwing bits of sandy dirt. He clutched her hair in one hand, the knife in the other.
“I’m going to bleed you like I bled my brother.”
A shadow rushed toward them, and the man looked up, managing a yell just before the blurred flash collided with him, sending him tumbling.
Elina scrambled back, recognizing the boy’s father atop her attacker with her family heirloom dagger in his hand.
But the other man had a knife, too, and he was fumbling with it, trying to get a good grip as he held the father’s knife-hand at bay.
“Watch out!” Elina said.
The father caught sight of the knife just in time to dodge the attacker’s wild slash.
Her hand found a stone, and as the attacker scrambled up, she hopped behind him, careful not to put weight on her bad ankle. She was almost there when her foot snapped a branch, and the attacker spun, giving the father time to close in and stab him in the shoulder.
The man cried out and dropped the knife, clutching his wounded arm while Elina smashed the rock into his skull. His eyes went blank as he hit the ground, motionless.
The boy’s father stepped over him and slit his throat, then stood straight, chest heaving, face splattered with red. He dropped the dagger and scooped up his wailing son. Tears shone on his cheeks as he hushed and comforted his infant boy, cradling him close, violent hands shaking with attempted tenderness.
Elina found Jade, picked her up, made sure she didn’t have any obvious injuries, and began nursing her. This distracted Jade from the pain of any bruises or sprained muscles she might have sustained, and she stopped crying, looking up at Elina’s face with watery eyes.
A relative silence followed, broken only by each other’s heavy breaths and whispered words of comfort.
When at last she looked at the man, she found him watching. A spear of panic struck her, and she struggled to suppress the urge to hide. But there was no helping it now.
“Are you all right?” he said. “Did they touch you?”
She shook her head. “I am fine. Thank you.” But her voice was wooden, and she knew it.
He nodded, fresh tears pooling in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” His voice was constricted with emotion.
She stood and tried to walk away to escape the emotions that chilled her, but the pain in her ankle was excruciating. She stood, balancing on her good leg, breathing heavily, feeling blackness dance at the edge of her vision.
She could not show weakness. It was bad enough that he had found her in so desperate a situation.
She took one full step down on her wounded ankle and crumpled into a heap, eyes flashing wide to a world gone empty.
Chapter 22
The woman fell straight back with her baby in her arms. Though her unconscious body absorbed most of the jar, the baby jammed its nose against her chest and wailed as a
fine trickle of blood trailed down its lips.
Lamech didn’t really know how to help them, so with Noah fussing in his arms, he paced and waited, glancing at the baby from time to time to make sure it could still breathe, though it was crying hard enough to assure him.
Lamech shifted Noah to the crook of his arm, then knelt and retrieved the woman’s dagger with his right hand, cleaning the blood off on the grass.
The attacker had died with his eyes open, something Lamech found deeply disturbing. Even more disturbing was the thought that Lamech had been the one to end him.
In only a few short days, he had killed four men with brutal abandon. He never wanted to harm anyone, so how could this have happened?
He turned away, so the man was no longer within view, and finished cleaning the dagger. After dropping it beside the woman, he sat rocking Noah to sleep.
The woman’s child still wailed, and eventually the woman moaned and her eyes fluttered open. She rolled forward and repositioned her baby. “Hush, Jade,” she said as she cleaned the baby’s face off. “I’m sorry, hush.”
She tried to get up and nearly fell again, so Lamech caught her by the arm.
She turned on him, screaming and thrusting him away. “Don’t touch me!”
“What’s wrong with you?” he said.
The noise and movement woke Noah. Lamech looked down at the fresh tears growing in his son’s eyes, that little gummy mouth opened wide.
The woman cradled Jade and began feeding her again in an attempt to calm her, but Jade refused to eat. “It doesn’t matter. Just stay away from me.”
“No, I can’t stay away,” he said. “Not after what just happened.”
“You can, and you will,” she said.
“I’m not leaving Noah alone again.”
“He won’t be alone in my arms.”
Flood Page 9
