"You're not going anywhere," Ashley told her boy. "I'm not going to lose you again. You stay here with Mr. Hauser and the medical team. We'll radio for you when we find his location."
Hauser protested, "Ma'am, I mean, shouldn't we all go?"
"This is not a military matter, Rick, it's a personal one. Family. Besides, the fewer people the faster we can move."
Hauser did not like the idea but had no choice but relent.
"Okay then, we'll wait to hear from you."
Nina pushed a button and the door slid open. A cool breeze—surprisingly cool for July—eased in as did the smell of wild flowers, the sound of a nearby waterfall, and birdsong
Eagle One sat on one side of a meadow cut in a deciduous forest by a fire decades before. A few charred stumps remained but otherwise the area had grown over in weeds and flowers. On the other side of the clearing sat Scout Four, its starboard side smashed into a clump of trees.
Nina and Odin descended the ramp. Ashley followed, saying, "He headed northeast. I think there's a path—"
Her sentence stopped in a grunt of pain. Ashley fell to one knee and grabbed her right ankle. Nina snapped about and raced to her. JB eyed his mother suspiciously.
"What is it? What happened?"
"I slipped off the ramp. I think I sprained it. You go ahead. Radio when you find him."
Nina hesitated.
Ashley said, "Go, I'll be okay. Find Trevor. You have to catch up to him."
"Okay, I'll go. And I promise, I'll find your husband."
She then turned and followed Odin into the forest on a game trail leading northeast.
Ashley remained on a knee until Nina entered the brush. At that point she calmly stood and—in perfect strides—ascended the ramp into the ship telling a stunned Hauser, "We wait until we hear from her."
---
Nina entered the woods with a sense of urgency, moving at a fast walk and following the obvious signs: footsteps in soft ground along the trail, broken branches, trampled flowers, and flattened brush. It seemed that in his current state Trevor moved like an enraged bull, pushing through and knocking over anything in his way.
As the day wore on, she realized that while he had not moved softly he had moved quick. Whatever damage The Order had done to her leader, they had left him full of adrenaline.
The thick green canopy of forest could not keep out the heat of a strong afternoon sun. The air grew heavy with humidity, becoming another weight on her shoulders conspiring to drain her strength. But Nina did not slow. She willed herself forward. Her loyal companion—Odin—suffered even more so due to his heavy black and gray coat.
At the edge of a great waterfall she hid behind a fallen tree to avoid a massive StumpHide. Its long body and heavy feet crashed through the wilderness reminding her that amidst the natural beauty of the Catskills lurked the unnatural dangers of alien wildlife.
When the trail seemed to disappear at a stream, Odin's keen nose miraculously found Trevor's scent.
From the top of an open ridge she paused to drink from her canteen and watch the sun begin its descent, its rays changing to burnt orange.
In the forest again a yard of Bloodhorns crossed their path. She stopped and watched the graceful beasts graze at a patch of berry bushes before moving on. One regarded her through its crimson eyes. The ungulates wore a pair of slender horns similar to pronghorns and seemed to dance, not run. Not all aliens were predators.
As the forest darkened a wobble grew in her knees from exhaustion. Just as she worried she would have to make camp for the night, she came upon a lonely cabin sitting atop a clearing where a land owner had long ago cut away the trees, and shrubs, and grass and blanketed it all with gravel and rock.
Nina surveyed the clearing surrounding the cabin and Odin stood at her side with his nose in the air sniffing. She heard song birds celebrate the end of another summer day, her eyes saw no reason to fear, and her Elkhound did not advance any warning.
She adjusted the M-4 on her shoulder and then stepped out of the shadows. Her footfalls crunched on the white gravel. As they crossed the distance, Nina took note of the cabin’s isolation; of her isolation in those mountains. Inside the forest, she had not given it much thought. But there, seeing the cabin in the clearing under the wide open sky and against the backdrop of forested mountain walls, emphasized the point.
Nina and her dog arrived at and climbed the wooden stairs then stopped perfectly still. The door stood slightly ajar. Scrapes and splinters along the frame indicated forced entry.
She drew her pistol and pushed the door. It swayed open with a creak much too loud for her liking, but no response came from within.
She stepped inside first. A fresh cedar smell greeted her, riding on cold air trapped inside the home for a decade.
To her right, a small room with a desk and dusty wildlife oil paintings, an ancient typewriter, and a bundle of straw in one corner no doubt home for a mouse. To her left, a closet with empty clothes hangers and a cache of dusty fishing gear scattered below.
In front of her the hallway continued toward a kitchen. First, however, an archway to her left just beyond the closet.
Nina instinctively felt a presence in that room even before she peered inside. When she did, she saw a bundle on the floor; a person curled in a fetal position in front of a dormant stone fireplace and at the foot of a plush sofa.
Trevor Stone.
Before entering the room she listened and looked along the hall but her instincts now told her they were alone.
Those instincts were wrong.
She stepped into the living room, holstered her weapon, and cautiously took to a knee. Odin stood nearby, his nose in the air.
Nina felt a shiver shake her arm as she reached two fingers to his throat. For a long second she feared she had searched all day only to find a corpse. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as her fingers felt a soft pulse, but he did not stir.
His shirt had been torn to shreds during his blind race through the wilderness. He wore only one sneaker and she spied small patches of blood on his pant legs and arms. Nothing serious, but another sign of the craziness of his flight through the woods. Her Emperor--her leader-- reduced to a wild animal.
Nina studied the rough lines in his cheekbones and the strong shoulders that had carried her people so far for so long. Lying there, on the floor, those cheekbones seemed soft and the shoulders vulnerable. She realized she looked not upon an Emperor, but a man.
In that moment all the admiration, all the loyalty, and all the respect she held for him doubled. Trevor Stone was no super being, no powerful entity, no demigod. She saw him as a human being, no more, no less. And while that realization stripped away his aura of invincibility, it made him real and his accomplishments more worthy of admiration.
And he lay there, on the floor, alone.
A wave of sadness flew over her. No, not over, but from that locked part of her heart.
He will not be alone. He deserves better than that.
She yanked a quilt from the sofa producing a cloud of dust that caused her to cough and wheeze, but he still did not stir even as she draped the cover across him.
Nina placed her backpack on the floor and retrieved the oversized radio from inside. With her attention focused on the communicator, she did not see the Old Man staring in the front window, his face contorted into an expression of deep grief; tears streaming down his cheeks.
The transmitter offered only static. Nina did not understand why. After several minutes of trying, she left the living room and moved outside in time to watch the last rays of sunshine fade behind the peaks. Odin remained behind, curled on the floor in one corner of the room nursing his own exhaustion.
Still, no contact. She did not understand. The high powered radio should work, even in such a remote area. Something obstructed her call for help.
She turned off the radio, returned inside, and knelt next to him whispering, "Trevor? Do you…can you…hear me? Um…
it’s me…Captain…it’s me…Nina Forest."
No response, only the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Nina considered her options. She could not carry him out of the mountains. Indeed, she could not walk out herself. The trip in had consumed her strength. Her legs needed rest. Furthermore, she suspected Trevor to be exhausted, which probably accounted for his lack of response. At least she hoped so.
The calendar, she knew, said July but they sat in the high mountains surrounded by forest. The cabin’s stale, cold air already felt chilly enough despite how hot the day had been. Certainly the temperature would drop even further as night rose.
She prioritized.
First, Nina slipped her arms under his legs and shoulders, grunted, and lifted him to the couch. He lacked weight. The Order had provided just enough nutrients to keep his body functioning.
With him secure on soft bedding and under the quilt, she turned her attention to the fireplace. On one side of the stone mantle a pile of yellowed newspaper, on the other a stack of dried logs.
Nina used the paper and twigs for kindling and a match from her survival kit to ignite the heap. After allowing the flames to build, she added wood to the mix. Soon a respectable blaze warmed the living room.
She slipped off her jacket and chugged from her canteen, careful to keep a healthy supply ready for him when he woke.
If he wakes up.
Nina found she had no appetite for rations. Eating could wait until morning.
With that in mind, she settled in for what promised to be a long but hopefully quiet night. She sat on the floor and propped her head against the side of the couch while he slept above and Odin remained in the corner.
An hour ticked by, maybe longer, and the world outside grew dark while the fire inside cast the two in a warm glow.
Nina’s eyes grew heavy and sleep beckoned…
…in a flash, her instincts chased off that sleep. She drew her weapon and leapt to her feet to confront the intruder.
"Easy…easy there, missy."
He took a cautious step from the shadowy hall into the light of the living room. Odin glanced in the newcomer's direction, but to Nina's surprise her K9 friend appeared unconcerned.
Nina held the gun sure and steady.
"Hold it right there."
"Oh now, calm down," the Old Man spoke with his hands held up and his back slightly hunched. "I’m not your enemy, you know that, don’t ya’?"
She did not know that…or…or did she?
"Who are you?"
"Oh, now, that’s right. You don’t remember a lick, do ya? Probably for the best and all. Yep, definitely for the best. But now…well, now it’s a damned nuisance."
The Old Man’s words suggested he wanted to come across as flippant, but the tremble in his voice fell far short, sounding sad, maybe scared, to Nina’s ear. Still…she saw something familiar in him. Not visions, but feelings. Feelings of wonder and awe.
The sight of Trevor lying on the floor had made her see the Emperor as just a man. The newcomer standing in the light of the fire…she knew—she knew—to be much more than that.
"Now what is that I see in them eyes? Could it be…naw…could you be thinkin’ you recognize lil’ old me?"
Nina did not react as the Old Man dropped his hands.
"I…I don’t understand."
She did not feel threatened by the stranger; merely puzzled. She tilted her head and studied the lines of his face.
"We had a talk once, you and me, about our friend here."
The old timer nodded toward the sofa. Nina followed his motion, glanced at Trevor, and then returned her attention to the newcomer. She turned the pistol in her hand, thought, then slid it into her holster.
"Mighty obliged," he smiled a forced grin. "Anywho, I couldn’t really do you no harm even if that’d be my intention, seein’ how I’m not really here and all. At least, not the way you would be thinkin’."
As if to emphasize the point, the man took another step forward on the wooden cabin floor, but his footfall made no noise.
Nina had seen enough in the decade since Armageddon to maintain her cool. Nonetheless, her voice dropped to a whisper. "Who are you? What are you?"
He walked in a clumsy gait suggesting frailty. Nina guessed that to be an illusion, too.
"I’m a friend. Now, you can’t tell me you haven’t heard all them stories, right? You know, the stories ‘bout Trevor walkin’ off into the woods and comin’ back with fancy notions."
Nina had not heard those stories in recent years, but she had heard them.
She crinkled her brow and remembered the early days at the estate. However, to her memory those early days began nearly a year after she and Shep had crashed in northeastern Pennsylvania. From what Shep had explained, she had been spirited away by The Order and implanted with two dormant parasites before being returned to Trevor’s band of survivors.
Her mission, it appeared, had been to unwittingly collect intelligence for The Order. At some point in the process the parasites activated, recalling her to one of The Order’s bases. Or so Shep had said. Her discussions with Gordon and rumors of Trevor's own imprisonment by The Order at the same time made her wonder…had she once betrayed Trevor Stone?
Regardless, the survivors raided The Order’s base and freed her, removing one of the parasites but not knowing of the second implant’s existence. That second implant had been tied to her memory. Months later doctors found and removed the second implant but, in the process, she lost her memories between its removal and when it had been first inserted.
Seeing the Old Man standing in front of her and feeling a sense of recognition for him confirmed what she had long suspected: more had happened during those months than Shep or anyone had shared. Indeed, Nina’s decision to unravel the mystery of Trevor’s assassination had been driven by Ashley’s promise to shed light on that hole in her memories.
"Hello? You awake over there, missy? Now, I can’t go fillin’ you in all over again and besides, I don’t think none of that matters right now."
The Old Man hovered over the sofa. Nina watched as his shoulders sagged more and glints of moisture sparkled in the corners of his eyes. The Old Man’s words continued but she could sense his struggle to maintain composure.
"Guess…guess I just don’t understand as much as I’d like. No…not at all. I’m really sorry over this, Trevor. I always said, it ain’t about you. Maybe…maybe just this once…maybe we can make it about you."
"What’s wrong with him?"
His lips quivered, "He’s alone."
At first his answer confused her. But as she stared at the sleeping man named Trevor Stone, she began to understand. Her heart sank.
"What did they do to him?"
The Old Man chewed on his thoughts as if to sculpt the right words. "Now, let's see. From where you’re standin’, Trev has been gone for, what, two months? That right?"
She nodded and resisted the urge to correct him that from her point of view, Trevor had been dead for two months.
"For his part, well, its felt more like a decade."
Her head snapped around and she asked, "What do you mean?"
The Old Man snickered, a little, but without any good humor. "See, now, I keep on tellin’ Trevor time is irrelevant. It’s just a state of mind, really. What they done to him…they filled his head full of misery, stuffin’ it with visions and whatnot. Memories, if you will. Yeah, a whole bunch of bad memories. Nasty stuff." The Old Man focused his eyes on Nina. "Bad things that he’s done and bad things happenin’ to people he’s got feelin’ for."
Nina grimaced and asked, "What? You mean, they tortured him?"
"Trevor, he's been tortured before on the outside. Messed him up real good, too. I was able to help out back then, to sort of undo the damage. Well, no, I'd say more like I took the edge off. This isn't the same thing. This time they cut a shade deeper."
"I still don’t understand."
"Honey, Trevor’s mind ha
s spent ten years re-livin' all the bad things he ever done; all his guilt, all the decisions he made that ate away at his soul. They brought his demons to life."
"Dreams? You mean they gave him bad dreams?"
The Old Man shook his head.
"Nah, sweetie, reality. As real as you and me standin' here. What are we if we ain’t the sum of our memories, right? I suppose he coulda pulled on through but they took all those feelin’ of guilt and fear and—what would you say?—oh yeah, they amp-la-fide them."
"Ampli..fied?"
"Yep. Drove him over the edge, too, but I think you can see that. Scrambled him up good. Tell me there, missy, how good a day would you have if someone tore you up like that? Now make that day seem like ten years."
He held his eyes on her for a moment to make his point, and then cast them to the person lying on the couch.
"It’s all bouncin’ around up there in him," he spoke gently. "Powerful stuff, you know? Emotion and such."
Nina could not be sure that she did, in fact, know. She had Denise—her daughter—and that had opened her to a wide range of feelings she never knew existed. Still, much remained hidden away waiting for the right trigger to bring it forth.
The Old Man went on, "It’s like energy, I suppose, over powerin’ the circuits of his mind. Shortin’ them out."
Nina stepped closer to the couch and studied Trevor’s silent face. From what this strange old man told, a storm brewed underneath. A storm that had driven Trevor over the cliff of reason.
"So we’ve come all this way and it’s too late? Listen, I don’t believe that."
He asked, "Why?"
Her head tilted with childlike wonder as she whispered, "Because I know him. I mean, I sort of know him. I know he’s beaten the odds every time. He’s won fights he never should have won. He’s been brave enough to make the hard decisions for all of us when someone had to do it. I’m just saying, everything Armageddon has thrown his way, he beat it. He can beat this."
Beyond Armageddon IV: Schism Page 46
