Flood

by Brennan McPherson

  Only that made no sense.

  The God-King retrieved the knife Elina dropped in the grass and pressed it to her throat, all the while keeping his silver eyes on Noah. “I am not here to kill you, Noah. No, I expect you will live a very long life. Many, many years may pass before you see me again, and by then, perhaps today will seem a distant dream. Maybe, even, you will fancy that it never happened. But please, promise me that you will never forget what I show you today.”

  Noah nodded, refusing to let the emotions that shook his body come out in a whimper.

  “Good. When I tell you to run, you and your friend will run as far and as long as you can, and you will never try to find your family again. If you do, I will kill them, and in worse ways than you could imagine. But first . . .” He smiled at Elina and pulled the blade through her throat.

  Her body crumpled, and for a moment Noah caught the shimmer of red gushing from her neck. Jade screeched, but the God-King had already crossed to Lamech and held the knife to his throat. “Run,” he screamed. “Run! Or I will kill your father and your grandfather too!” His eyes were stretched wide, silver serpentine bright.

  Jade fell forward, but Noah caught her, raised her onto his shoulder, and hobbled as quickly as he could into the forest and beyond, screaming, weeping, shaking.

  Trying to block out Jade’s voice calling her mother’s name.

  Chapter 45

  Lamech watched as Noah and Jade ran away and disappeared behind the cover of trees. Elina blinked up at him, tears spilling down her cheeks and mixing with the blood pouring from the deadly wound.

  Sickness bubbled out of his stomach, and he bent and nearly vomited, steadying himself on bound hands.

  “No,” he said, gasping for breath. “No!”

  He could not believe what he’d seen. Birds still chirped in the boughs of trees too familiar. The vegetables in his garden still soaked up the rays of the midday sun. His house still sat open, inviting.

  And Elina’s life flooded the soil.

  He knew she was dying, and yet it seemed a distant lie. As if all were just a terrible nightmare, and he would soon wake. But no matter how hard he struck his palms into his eyes, the vision of her broken and bleeding on the ground refused to leave.

  The woman who nursed Noah as a child and saved Lamech’s life more than once.

  Elina. My friend. My family. Murdered. And for what?

  The God-King cleaned Elina’s dagger with a dirty rag and examined its hilt before slipping it into his belt. “Berubbal.” He snapped his fingers and the one-armed giant knelt. “Take the prisoners back to the city, but do not throw them in the dungeon. They will live in the guardhouse beside my temple. You will order guards to keep a close watch and make sure they never escape. Make sure they live a comfortable, long life.”

  The giant’s yellow eyes narrowed on Lamech, and a sneer hooked the corner of his mouth. “Understood.”

  Berubbal bellowed for the soldiers to bring the prisoners back, and violent hands grabbed Lamech’s arms, yanked him to his feet, and dragged him toward the forest. Lamech turned to stare at Elina’s broken body left in the open, and he wept for her as the boughs of the trees obscured his vision, and the soldiers carried he and Methuselah on.

  They were brought to a wagon yoked to bulls and forced into cages in the back. He assumed he and Methuselah were kept separate so that they could not aid each other, but they were so tightly bound and cramped in the cages that they could barely shift at all.

  Three soldiers climbed into the drivers’ seat and drove the bulls onward through the forest onto a dirt road pointing north. Lamech and Methuselah lay silent in their cages for hours. At sunset, exhaustion throbbed through Lamech’s body, and he closed his eyes and strained for the relief of sleep.

  Instead of sleep, the dark dream forced itself upon him one final time as the pain in his knees and back faded to the bright pricks of stars in a black sky, and the approach of a dark shadow that knelt beside him.

  “Why do you haunt me still?” Lamech whispered. “I failed, and Noah will die for it.”

  “No,” the dark figure said. “Noah is alive.”

  “Not because of me.”

  “You never had much control to begin with. Who among us does?”

  Lamech felt his mouth contort with emotion, saw the twinkling stars wobble. “What was the point of all this?”

  “You kept him alive all these years. But now, you must release him. He must find his way without you, for he has been taken beyond your reach.”

  For a long while, Lamech kept silent. Desire for his son, deeper than the deepest ache, opened a chasm within which all reason fell, and he could grab hold of only one simple thought. “What will happen to him?”

  “I do not know. But there is hope, for someone has been sent to take care of him.”

  “Sent? By who?”

  “By the same One who brought me to you.”

  “Who are you? And who sent you? I have listened to you all this time, for your words have spoken truth. But truth may be used for good or for ill, and I have seen naught but bitterness and loss since you visited me.”

  For the first time, the shape stepped in front of him, and Lamech saw the dim light of the night sky shine across dark eyes and dark features harshly wrought. There was a charisma in the man’s appearance, an ancient beauty mixed with an unspeakable sorrow. “I am the man who birthed the monster that hunts your child.”

  Lamech blinked. “You? You did this?”

  The man’s frown deepened, and he turned away. “Long ago, when the world was still young, I was born the first male child to the first human parents. I thought I was supposed to be their savior, the one to release them from the struggle they purchased by partaking in what they should not have. But I grew proud and greedy, and in anger did something so evil that it brought an Abomination into this world.” He glanced at Lamech. “I murdered my younger brother, and brought death to life in a way none could have foreseen. Afterward, I destroyed myself to stop it, and the Almighty offered me mercy, as he is wont to do. He gifted me with the ability to speak to men in dreams. And so I have tried to help you, for your son could be the reversal of everything. He could set us free from the grip of the Abomination—from the one who calls himself the God-King.”

  “How? And why my son?”

  “The Almighty chooses whom he will. His depths are a mystery beyond our comprehension. But where the Almighty gives burdens, he grants the strength to shoulder them. He has sent someone, a man of great wisdom, to raise your son up in the way he should go. In addition, the Almighty has woven a protection around your son, so that the enemy who hunts him might never spill his blood.”

  “If the Almighty could protect him, then what was the point of you warning me all this time?”

  “The battle is not for your son’s body, but for his heart. The Almighty has given him physical protection since before he was born, but his soul has always been exposed, and all this time you have been tasked with protecting it. The God-King knows this. That is why he strove to separate you. If the God-King kills your son, he will undo his own ambitions. But if he corrupts your son’s heart, he will find victory. That is where our danger lay. Why do you think I have struggled to warn you all this time? It was not to keep Noah from being killed, but to keep you safe, and to keep the two of you together. I saw much danger in you two parting, for I know all too well the damage wrought by the divide between father and son. But we are past that now. And we must trust in the Almighty and the decisions your son is destined to make.”

  “What, then, is expected of me?”

  “Your story, for now, has parted from his. We all think of ourselves as the center of some grand story. But Noah is the center of this one, and you were his helper. Maybe you will have the opportunity to see your son again. I do not know, for much is hidden from me. But I would urge you to seek the Almighty, and to pray for your son’s soul. For you may be certain of one thing: the fate of the world rests on his
integrity.”

  Then the dream dissipated, the strange stars blending to a dirty bamboo cage.

  The sun rose. Then set. Then rose again.

  The wagon traveled for days, weeks, months, until they arrived at the city Lamech would come to call home.

  But he knew it would never be more than a prison.

  Part V

  Noah

  “The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the Lord regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart.”

  —Genesis 6:5–6

  Chapter 46

  Noah’s heavy, cold breaths slapped the leaves as he stumbled forward beneath the weight of Jade. Gnarled branches scraped his skin, dripping warm redness across his raised skin. He couldn’t hear anyone following, but that didn’t matter. He couldn’t stop.

  “Run or I will kill your father and your grandfather too!”

  “I’m running,” Noah said, and fought to keep his trembling under control.

  But Jade twisted in his arms and screamed for Elina, and Noah lost balance, slid in the mud, and toppled. He tried to catch her, but she landed on his arm and popped his shoulder. He rolled her off and forced his arm back into place, screaming with pain.

  “Mother,” she said. “Mother? Where is she?”

  Noah felt a surge of anger as he fumbled to his knees and grabbed Jade by the shoulders. “She’s gone, Jade.”

  “They took her away,” she said. “We have to go back to her!”

  He shook her. “She’s dead.”

  “No, she’s alive!”

  “She’s dead! They killed her, and we’ll never see her again!”

  Jade’s eyes shone. For a moment, he thought she would insult him. Then, to his surprise, her lower lip jutted, and she wept. The response was so infantile that for a moment he merely blinked and stared.

  He softened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to scare you.” And he pulled her close and let her clutch his tunic and soak his chest.

  He sat rocking her, rubbing her back, whispering, “You are safe, Jade. I will keep you safe.” And he wept for the fear and the pain and the horror. “But we have to keep going.”

  She shook her head and moaned.

  “We have to keep my father safe.”

  She pushed him away. “And what about my mother?”

  Noah stood and lifted her by the arm. “Come.”

  They continued as quickly as they could. After a while, it seemed they heard men speaking, and the clanging of metal chains and the snort of beasts.

  They huddled under the cover of evergreen branches on a bed of brown needles that poked through their clothing.

  The voices disappeared, but they stayed hidden, breathing as little as possible until they were sure they were alone. Then they stood and continued, more careful of what twigs and dried leaves they stepped on.

  As time rolled on, and the light faded, they continued. Jade spoke of how much she thirsted for water. Noah desired the same, for it had been many hours since they left Lamech and Methuselah behind, and the nervous energy that before sped them along now bled into exhaustion. Every muscle in Noah’s body felt swollen and weak. When he held his hand in front of his face, his fingers shook, and when he tried to support Jade, his arm moved as if half-listening.

  “We can’t stop,” he said.

  “What?” Jade said.

  He shook his head and prodded her on, but she slowed.

  “Jade,” he said, “we have to keep going.”

  “How could they know if we’ve stopped?”

  “How could they find us to begin with?”

  “Because your grandfather brought them to us.”

  “We don’t know that. Besides, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does,” Jade said. “I can’t take another step.” She pointed, and Noah had to squint to see the mouth of a small cave in the dim starlight that peeked through the forest canopy—an ambiguous absence of light rather than an actual shape.

  Noah knew they should move on, but he was so exhausted he didn’t think he could. Not if he must convince both himself and her.

  He had no idea what animals they might encounter in the absolute dark of the cave. Then again, what animals would they encounter wandering through the forest at night?

  Noah and Jade weren’t hunters. They were fool adolescents fleeing from pain and fire and the threat of death.

  Weaponless. Aimless.

  “I’m laying down,” Jade said, and stumbled into the cave.

  Noah made to resist, then leaned toward the cave, now taking one step, now two, until he entered.

  The cave floor was hard and cold and uncomfortably moist. He looked around, brushed the stone, and sat stiffly. “Very well. But as soon as the sun rises, we move.”

  The opening was no more than a small cove that ended a dozen feet into the rock face. After Noah inspected each crack, trying his best to refrain from yelping as his fingers squelched pockets of molded stone, they lay together, closed their eyes, and huddled for warmth.

  Each time Noah approached sleep, Jade moved, startling him awake. Once, he shot up and held his breath, glancing around.

  “What are you doing?” Jade asked, her voice groggy and irritated.

  “You keep waking me,” he said, more to cover his fear than anything else.

  “I’m uncomfortable,” Jade said.

  “You were the one who wanted to lay in the cave.”

  She grumbled again and elbowed him, so he scooted away and tried to sleep without her.

  But long after he thought her asleep, she spun toward him and pressed her face into his neck, crying softly, forcing a hollow ache through his chest.

  He ran his fingers through her hair and focused on the warmth of her breath on his skin. He’d never considered Jade as anything more than a friend, and the thought of attraction toward her at any other time would have drawn a disgusted groan.

  But in the lonely dark of that small cave, and the pain of a loss too terrible to bear, he found her touch so comforting that he couldn’t remember falling asleep.

  And even after he woke to the warmth of a fire crackling near his feet the next morning, he thought himself dreaming, for her arms were entangled in his.

  For nearly an hour, he didn’t even look up to see the strange man who watched them through the acrid smoke.

  Chapter 47

  Whoever built the fire now poked the logs with a blackened stick. Noah raised his head and examined a bent old man with gray eyes and hair and beard. His back was stooped over a pan on the coals cooking sizzling meat.

  Jade’s breath paused, and she jerked upright and met the stranger’s gaze. The stranger did not smile, so Jade scooted deeper into the cave and hugged her knees, eyeing him with caution. “Who are you?” she said.

  The stranger ignored her and threw more raw meat into the pan.

  Noah scooted next to her, a mixture of fear and curiosity pinching the corners of his eyes. Jade leaned toward him and whispered without taking her gaze from the stranger, “Where did he come from?”

  Noah shrugged and whispered, “He was here when I woke.”

  “Did you see the way he looked at me? Mother told me once about—” She stopped and pressed her mouth into her forearm.

  Noah didn’t want to talk about Elina any more than Jade did, so he said, “We can’t just sit here waiting for something to happen. We’ve already wasted time. Look how high the sun is.”

  He stood, but Jade grabbed his arm and said, “Don’t!”

  He shook her off, but as he walked toward the man, he struggled to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth. Something about the way the man glanced up as Noah approached made him feel vulnerable, as if those gray eyes could pierce a mountain. “Who are you?” Noah said.

  The man’s eyes roamed Noah’s body, then returned to the meat in the pan. “You loo
ked cold.”

  Noah waited for more, realized the man wasn’t going to give it. “Where did you come from?”

  For a moment, the man seemed to care about nothing other than scraping burnt meat from the pan and popping the crisped flesh into his mouth.

  “Hello?”

  “Eh?” The man turned and licked excess fat from his fingers.

  “Who are you?”

  “You don’t even recognize your own family?” The man shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I’m your great-grandfather,” the man said.

  The man’s words sent Noah’s vision spinning. Lamech had once told him his great-grandfather had disappeared. That he had been gone for countless years. “What?”

  The old man bent toward him and yelled as if Noah were partially deaf. “My name is Enoch. God sent me to teach you the Old Way.”

  Noah blinked, looked at Jade, who still hugged her knees and stared at the man. Noah returned his attention to Enoch. So many strange things had happened the past few days that for a moment he actually wondered if the man really could be Noah’s great-grandfather. He certainly looked as if he had spent the past century in the wilderness. “If you’re my great-grandfather, how did you find us?”

  “God sent me.”

  “Why now and not several days ago?”

  “You need me now,” Enoch said.

  “And I didn’t before?”

  “Sometimes what you think you need and what you truly need are irreconcilable.”

  But Noah thought that if the man’s God could have sent someone to help them, surely he could have saved Elina. And now Lamech and Methuselah were captured, and Noah and Jade had been forced into the wilderness. If this man was his great-grandfather, and God had truly sent him, Noah needed no more reason to hate both.

  Enoch pulled the pan off the coals. “You are young, and ignorant, and filled with passion.”