Song of the Ovulum

by Bryan Davis

  “You have to open it! Give it all you’ve got!”

  She set her foot on the jamb and pulled back as hard as she could. Letting out a low squeal, the door slowly inched its way to the right. After moving it a foot or so, she could no longer brace herself. She shifted to the other side, set her hands on the handle, and heaved her body into it, pushing with every ounce of energy she could muster.

  The huge door squealed again and continued its slow progress. Lauren grunted. Her arms and legs ached. What could be wrong? If that guard could handle this door so easily, why was she having so much trouble?

  A glimmer flashed in her eye. Several steps away, something glittered on the floor. The candlestone Bonnie rolled? She staggered to it and picked it up. It again stung her palm like an electrical shock, and the stomach stabs returned. She heaved it toward the guard and watched the light tumble until it stopped at the hall’s end.

  As the pain faded, she pressed a hand against her stomach. That was better, much better.

  With a quick spin, she hurried back to the door and shoved it easily to the side. After pulling the key from the first lock, she felt for the lock on the inner door. “I’m almost there, Matt. I’m just worried someone’s going to show up.”

  “Dad says he’s the only prisoner down here, so there’s just one guard on patrol at night. A janitor sometimes comes by, but he probably won’t with the power out.”

  “But the guard here radioed about us. When they don’t hear from him, they’re bound to send someone.” Her hand brushed across a hole. After trying two keys that didn’t work, she inserted a third and turned the lock, then pushed down the lever and swung open the door, revealing more darkness. New pangs shot through her stomach, forcing her to bend over. “Is there a candlestone in here?”

  “It’s hanging from the ceiling almost right in front of you.” This time, Matt’s voice came from within the cell as well as through the transmitter. He sat somewhere to the right.

  “I thought you might be at the door,” Lauren said.

  “I’m kind of tied up at the moment. I can’t get the knots loose.”

  Another voice sounded from her left. “How is Bonnie?”

  “Mr. Bannister?” Lauren called. “Is that you?”

  “Yes.” Pain streaked his voice. “Is my wife badly hurt?”

  “It’s pretty bad. I’ll bring her as soon as I can, and I’ll try to get the candlestone out of here.” Lauren spotted the glimmering jewel hovering above. She walked in and reached for it, but missed. Darkness made its height hard to judge. More pain knifed through her stomach. Her legs weakened, feeling like they were melting from the inside out. She leaped and missed again.

  “I … can’t jump. … I feel so … so weak.”

  “Untie me,” Matt said. “I’ll get it.”

  Lauren stumbled toward him. “Keep talking.”

  “I’m here, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall.”

  She followed his voice as he continued.

  “I’m going to stand, but I can’t move toward you. One end of this rope is tied to some kind of bracket—”

  She bumped into him and grabbed an arm. At least it felt like an arm. “Here you are.” She felt for his wrists and found the rope. Digging in with her nails, she clawed at the knots, but they wouldn’t budge.

  “Do you still have my pocketknife?” Matt asked.

  “Bonnie does. I’ll get it.”

  As Lauren walked toward the cell door, she wobbled back and forth, the pain getting worse by the second. When she reached the corridor, she hurried to Bonnie and groped for the flashlight. After finding it on her belt, she jerked it from its clip, flipped it on, and dug into Bonnie’s pocket. She slid the knife out and pushed it into her own pocket.

  As she ran back into the cell, the candlestone sucked her energy dry. She slipped and fell on her side. The flashlight tumbled from her hands, cracked on the floor, and blinked off.

  Calls of “Are you all right?” came from both sides of the dark room.

  “Not really.” Pushing against the floor, she climbed to all fours and crawled toward Matt. “I have the knife. I’ll be there in a second.”

  “You can do it,” Matt said. “I’m stretching out as far as I can.”

  Swiping the air in front of her with one hand, she pulled along with the other, pushing desperately with her aching legs. Dread filled her mind. Bonnie might be bleeding to death, and here she was crawling like a turtle with a broken shell.

  Finally, her fingers struck flesh. Matt grabbed her wrist and pulled her the rest of the way. “Where’s the knife?” he asked.

  Weakness washed through her limbs. Even her lips became flaccid. “In my … my pocket.” She reached in and pulled the knife out, but it slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor with a click.

  “Got it,” Matt said. “Now if I can just open it and cut through. This blade should be sharp enough, but there are a lot of knots.”

  “Can you crawl back to Bonnie?” Mr. Bannister asked. “It sounds like it might take a little while for Matt to get loose. The longer you stay in here, the worse off you’ll be.”

  Lauren shifted back to all fours and struggled toward the door. “Why is … is it affecting me? … I’m not an anthrozil. One of the kidnappers … called me a … a Listener. … I don’t have dragon traits.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Mr. Bannister said. “Let’s just get Bonnie and the guard in here.”

  Continuing her slow crawl, Lauren felt her way into the corridor. When her strength returned, she rose to her feet and walked in a weaving line toward Bonnie.

  As she settled at Bonnie’s side, a wave of sympathy raised a new tingling sensation across her back. Her tooth felt like someone had plugged her into an electrical outlet, drilling a painful shock into her jaw. Noises filled her ears—a heartbeat, labored breathing, gurgling. Bonnie was alive, but the signs of blood in her lungs sounded awful, and her humming had dwindled to almost nothing.

  “Bonnie,” Lauren whispered, “can you hear me?”

  No response traveled through the air, but the odd echoes of unspoken thought rode her spine up to her ears. I can’t talk. I can’t move. Please, God, help me.

  Pain still throbbing in her jaw, Lauren ran her fingers through Bonnie’s hair. “Help is coming. Just hang on. Your son will be here in a minute.”

  My son? Charles? You found him?

  “I found Matt, yes. I gave him the knife. He’s cutting himself loose.”

  Oh. Matt. I remember now.

  “Yes, he—”

  “I’m coming!” Matt called from the doorway.

  “Over here.”

  A glimmer of light approached, as did the sound of jingling keys. As he drew nearer, the stabbing pains returned. Lauren forced out a whimpering, “Why did you bring that thing?”

  “It’s the only light I had until I saw your glow. I’ll put it in my pocket.” The light disappeared. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be … I think.”

  “I’ll carry her to the cell. Go check on the guard. I grabbed the keys from the lock. I’ll hang on to them.” A warm hand touched her cheek. “I just want you to know that you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.” Then, a jingle sounded. Matt let out a brief grunt, and Bonnie’s body slid away from Lauren’s hands. His footsteps squeaked for a moment before fading.

  Lauren touched her cheek. As her strength began returning, heat radiated across her skin. Amazing? How could she be amazing? She couldn’t even cut Matt’s rope.

  Holding the dangling handcuff close to her body, she got up and jogged toward the guard. Total darkness made her feel as if she were running in a nightmare, chased by invisible horrors all around. Yet, these horrors were real, death and imprisonment lurked only steps away.

  As the tingling and jaw pain eased, she slowed. The turn in the corridor had to be close. Tripping over Anderson’s body would be another bad move. She felt
along the wall again, trying to imagine where the guard lay. New pains dug into her stomach. The other candlestone had to be close, but at least the pain meant she was nearing the end of the hall.

  A familiar glimmer appeared at the corner of her eye. As she inched toward it, her foot dragged on something. She dropped to her knees and felt the object, probably Anderson’s leg. Probing toward his torso, she sucked in quick breaths. Pain stormed through her body. Nausea boiled, creating an urge to heave. With every move, the handcuff chain jingled, sounding like an echoing alarm.

  After finding Anderson’s neck, she felt for a pulse. Nothing. She set her ear next to his mouth. No breathing.

  Her heart thumped. Heat rushed into her cheeks, and nausea finally took over. Still on her knees, she dry heaved three times before ending with a series of spasmodic coughs.

  “I killed him,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a rasping squeak. “I killed this poor man.”

  The candlestone glittered on the floor, now pulsing like a strobe. She lunged for it, snatched it up, and threw it toward the break room as hard as she could. The sparkle skittered along the tiles and eased to a stop near the stairway door.

  Another light appeared down the hall, far past the open cells, a flashlight beam waving from side to side.

  “Lonnie? It’s Pete. Are you here?”

  Lauren stiffened.

  “You haven’t radioed in a while, so I thought—” The beam landed on the open cell door. “What the—”

  Trying to keep the cuffs silent, Lauren swept her hands along the floor. The gun she dropped had to be around somewhere.

  A door slammed shut, then another, sounding like twin gunshots echoing through the hall. The new guard’s agitated voice followed. “This is Sergeant Miller. Someone unlocked and opened Bannister’s cell. He’s still chained in there, and the boy’s still there, too. When I flashed my light inside, I caught a glimpse of the winged woman.”

  Lauren’s fingers nudged the gun. She picked it up slowly, again keeping as quiet as possible.

  “Yeah, she’s locked up with them,” Miller continued. “She was on the floor, and the boy was trying to help her. I’m guessing she got shot while flying away, and she came back to get her husband.”

  Lauren rose to her feet and tiptoed through the hallway leading to the stairwell door. Where should she hide? The break room? The roof access?

  Miller’s voice grew louder. “No sign of Anderson. I’m going to check the break room.”

  That settled it. She would escape up the stairs. As she skulked, the candlestone glittered in her view. Yet again, pain shot through her body. Still, the gem’s presence helped. The tiny light illuminated the stairway door’s outline and knob.

  The guard’s clopping footsteps drew closer. Behind her, the flashlight beam struck the adjacent hall’s end and drifted lower.

  Lauren scooped up the candlestone and grasped the knob. Miller would find Anderson at any second. If she timed this just right …

  “Lonnie!” A flurry of rustling, jingling, and flying obscenities followed. In the midst of the noise, she opened the door and slid through the gap. As she allowed it to silently close, the gem gnawed at her palm. Pain streaked from her hand to her spine to every extremity, but she couldn’t drop the stone. It was the only light she had.

  No longer bothering to silence the cuffs, she held the candlestone in front of her and staggered up the stairs. Again her legs ached, turning to mushy sticks of butter, but she had to get past the first floor immediately. Other guards and medical staff could show up and barrel down the steps at any second. Of course, they might choose instead to come down the same access Miller used, but who could know? She just had to hurry.

  When she finally passed the first floor, she struggled up ten more steps, stuffed the candlestone into her pocket, and sat on a stair. That helped. Although it seemed to drill a hole in her thigh, the energy drain eased, and her stomach settled.

  She took in long, deep breaths. Just a few more seconds and she could climb the rest of the way. From her vantage point, the door to the first floor stood below, a light in its window panel making it easy to see. Obviously a generator powered that level.

  A man burst through the door and bustled down the stairs, barking into a radio. “On my way! The gurney is waiting for the elevator. I’m taking the stairs.”

  After several seconds, the door below slammed. The sudden noise brought back the tingles and the pain. Her ears picked up a chaotic blend of voices, too many to understand. The sounds made sense, but why the pain? Electrical disturbances had occurred around her before—the lights at the gym and Tate’s phone. Could the transmitter be short-circuiting? Might she, herself, be some kind of catalyst for electrical malfunctions?

  Rising slowly, she continued her march up the stairs. She could take her time now. It sounded like Anderson hadn’t mentioned Bonnie’s pretend prisoner, so they would probably think Bonnie was the only culprit. Since they had her in custody, why search anywhere else?

  After passing the second floor, Lauren stopped and whispered, “Matt, can you hear me?”

  No one answered.

  “Okay. If you can’t talk right now, that’s fine. Just let me know when you can.” As she climbed within a few steps of the roof-access door, the window in the door below provided light to her path. A dusting of snow coated the top two stairs, and swirling flakes poured in through the broken window above.

  Cold air spilled down the stairwell, bringing a chill. Her teeth chattering, she climbed the rest of the way to the top, her shoes crunching broken glass under the thin layer of snow. Crouching, she peered over the lower edge of the door’s window and looked outside. A single searchlight waved back and forth across the rooftops, revealing a blanket of snow covering each one, probably at least ten inches thick. Apparently, they didn’t want to drain the generator, so they left the other searchlights off.

  She withdrew the candlestone and tried to open the door, but it was locked. Why would a guard do that? With the window broken, locking the door wouldn’t stop anyone from coming in, and she could easily unlock it and get out.

  She tossed the candlestone through the jagged hole in the pane and resumed her crouch. Hugging herself tightly, she shivered hard. It was so cold! So lonely! What should she do now? As her teeth continued to chatter, she imagined the scene on the lowest level—guards interrogating Matt and his parents and accusing Bonnie of murdering Anderson, if she survived her own wounds. Obviously Matt wouldn’t reveal Bonnie’s accomplice, but someone was bound to come back up to the rooftop eventually.

  She closed her eyes. The dimness became darkness, and the events of the past few nightmarish hours flashed across her mind—Micaela’s car exploding; her phone’s beep followed by a demon’s murderous message; Tamiel’s evil glare as the chess pieces moved by themselves; the harrowing escape in the arms of a winged woman; and finally, the news that her adoptive parents had most likely been killed.

  An image of her house came into view. Fire erupted through every window, breaking glass and spewing flaming tongues. Her mother’s scream pierced her thoughts, an agonizing cry to God for help as she sat burning in her wheelchair.

  Lauren buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t take this! Everything wonderful in her life had been ripped away, destroyed, annihilated! Why would God allow all this horror?

  Sniffling, she wiped a tear with a finger. Of course, she wasn’t very religious, so maybe God just let bad things happen to people like her. But what about Mom and Micaela? It just wasn’t right! If God were really out there, he wouldn’t let good people suffer so much.

  As the thoughts filtered through, another image came to mind—Bonnie as she prayed in the midst of the forest. Her skin continued tingling, and the words replayed, as if spoken by Bonnie herself, somehow sitting next to her with a wing enfolding her.

  Even though I have been separated from my beloved family for these fifteen long years and suffered d
aily torture, I never doubted your love and faithfulness. I now see the dawn of my own day beginning to appear. Jehovah-Yasha, the Lord my savior, is mounting his conquering steed and will soon set all the captives free. I beg you to ride onto our battlefield like a dread champion. Rescue Billy, Ashley, and Matt. Let them and Lauren rejoice when they see your mighty hand brush aside those who would torment their souls. And when you do, when you conquer your foes as I have seen you do so many times before, we will rejoice, singing your praises on that day and forevermore.

  Lauren sighed. Such amazing faith! How could anyone hang on for so long? Bonnie lost her husband and her children, and she went without news of them for fifteen years! Incredible!

  Firming her lips, she nodded. She had to get through this. If Bonnie could endure so much suffering, she could endure her own small portion. What choice did she have anyway? Surrender? Give in to the demon who killed her parents and Micaela?

  She clenched a fist. Never! She couldn’t let that foul beast win, no matter what.

  With her fingers rolled into a tight ball, a memory stirred, the rubellite ring she had dropped somewhere nearby. She got up and, using the dim light from outside, searched the stairs where she and Bonnie had slept, then every step on the flight all the way to the landing. The ring was nowhere in sight, and neither were her gloves.

  After returning to her former spot, she sat again. Someone must have picked them up, and that same person probably locked the door. At least, then, whoever found it likely considered this area clear of intruders and escapees. Maybe it was the safest place to wait.

  As her mind settled, the tingling sensation died away, as did the pain in her jaw. A sense of coldness filtered down to her bones. She shivered harder than ever, and her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

  A feminine voice buzzed in her tooth. “I have been instructed by Walter to inform you of an emergency status.”

  Lauren touched her cheek. “Lois?”

  “I am also here,” Larry said. “We will work together to help you prepare. Please tell us where you are. Your transmitter is not accessing the GPS satellites.”