Song of the Ovulum

by Bryan Davis

  Her hands trembling, Lauren knelt and, holding the flashlight under her arm, slid Catherine’s ID bracelet off. “We might need this, too.”

  “Perfect.” Ashley pushed the phone into a pocket and, grabbing Catherine’s ankles, dragged her body under the stairwell. When she returned, she held something in each hand. “Two weapons,” she said, showing them to Lauren, “a gun and a baton. Which one do you want?”

  Lauren grasped the baton, a black metal rod about the length of her forearm. “I don’t think I have the nerve to shoot anyone.”

  “Fine. I know from experience that her baton packs a wallop, so keep it handy.” Ashley displayed the gun, a long-barreled weapon with a short grip. “It looks almost transparent, and the flashlight beam is being drawn toward it.”

  Lauren felt a twinge in her gut, similar to candlestone pain, though not as intense. “What does that mean?”

  “I have an idea, but I’ll explain after I have a chance to look it over.” Ashley looked up. “Let’s go to the roof and see what we can see.”

  “Shouldn’t we let Matt and the others out first?”

  Ashley gave Lauren the key ring. “You do that while I go up and look for the munitions site. Since the signal’s better up there, I can call my husband and let him know what’s going on, then I’ll call headquarters. With Catherine’s voice, I think I can stir up a lot of trouble around here. At least I might be able to delay their reinforcements.”

  Ashley grasped the railing and vaulted up the steps. Within seconds, she disappeared in the darkness above.

  After taking a deep breath, Lauren pushed the keys and bracelet into her pocket. Tucking the baton under her arm, she pointed the flashlight at the door and opened it slowly. With all the lights off, the beam seemed solid, almost like a Star Wars light saber. If only it would cut down opponents in the same way.

  Padding on the balls of her feet, she hurried to the end of the hall. She paused at the corner and scanned the area where her victim once lay. A ragged-edged bloodstain smeared the floor, probably a mixture of Bonnie’s and the guard’s.

  Nausea again churned in her stomach. Why did it have to happen this way? Why so much pain and death? As tears crept into her eyes, she tried to blink them away. It seemed that she would never wake up from this nightmare.

  The thought repeated in her mind. Nightmare? There was something about the dream she needed to remember, something important.

  As she walked toward the cell, the flashlight beam again cut through the darkness. The shaft of radiance brought back images from the dream—Zohar’s flames, Selah’s colorful projection in front of the lyre, and the wall of fire that raced through the purity ovulum and chased Joran and company into the green one. The voices within the flames echoed.

  Bonnie Silver! Why must you be set aflame?

  My … my name … is Silver. All dross … is purged … and my body … is a living … illustration.

  A beautiful melody entered her mind, the same melody Joran heard as he watched the wall of flames draw closer. It was the song of the purity ovulum, the tune only Shachar or gifted Listeners could hear.

  Then, Joran’s reaction followed. Dross is purged. That’s what purity means.

  Lauren pulled out the bracelet and stared at the name—Catherine. Purity. Like the purity ovulum, this bearer of the purity name was no more. Since, according to Ashley, Catherine belied her name, what would become of her spirit? Did she go to Hell? After hearing Walter talk about Hell like it was a real place—a place he could see, touch, and smell—the idea of someone going there seemed more terrible than ever.

  When she reached the cell door, she set the baton on the floor, pointed the light at the security panel, and lifted the bracelet close to it. A new hum drifted into her ear, not a memory, but a real sound in the air—Bonnie’s song, the melody she emitted without even realizing it. It sounded exactly like the song in the dream.

  Lauren felt her mouth drop open. Bonnie was emitting the song of the ovulum! So that’s what Enoch meant! He moved the song to a mobile host, a human being!

  A voice overpowered the tune. “That’s a cool story, Mom,” Matt said. “It’s amazing all the stuff you and Dad did.”

  Then Bonnie’s voice came through. “I’d tell you more, but there are some stories I don’t want our eavesdroppers to hear.”

  Lauren waved the bracelet in front of the panel. Although the LED flashed, the bracelet didn’t unlock the mechanism, no surprise, really, considering the power outage. Setting the ring in front of the beam, Lauren fumbled through the set of five keys. Which one was the right one? It was dark last time, so she would have to guess.

  Her fingers quivered. The keys jingled, sounding like rusty chains being slung against the wall. Finally, she pushed a key into the override lock and turned it.

  A loud click sounded. She ran to the handle and pulled the door to the side, making it squeal loudly, but it couldn’t be helped. It was the only way to get in.

  “Someone’s opening the cell,” Billy said.

  “Don’t blow fire on me!” Lauren fumbled with the keys again. “It’s me! Lauren!”

  “Dad,” Matt said in an agitated voice, “the eye bomb.”

  Billy’s tone stayed calm. “Too late. They already heard her name.”

  “Hang on. I just have to find the right key.” Guiding her hand with the flashlight, Lauren pushed one into the second door’s hole, but it wouldn’t turn. “Bonnie, I think I figured out something about you.”

  A squeal from within pierced the door. Lauren jerked back. “What’s that?”

  “I’m covering something that’s listening in,” Matt said. “Just hurry.”

  “The song of the purity ovulum emanates from you,” Lauren continued. “I can hear it.”

  While she pulled a second key from the ring, Bonnie called back, “I dreamed about that.”

  “Right. I did, too.” Lauren pushed the key in, but it didn’t turn. “When you burned, so did the ovulum, and now you’re the song’s vessel. If Tamiel finds out, he’ll come after you.”

  “Because he doesn’t want the world to hear the song.”

  Lauren lifted a third key. “Something like that. I haven’t figured it all out.”

  “Lauren!” Matt’s voice altered to a hiss, and the squealing ceased. “My father and I both sense danger. It’s closing in fast. Don’t say anything you don’t want anyone to hear.”

  She flashed the beam both ways, but nothing came into view, only the vast, empty corridor. Now trembling, she pushed the key into the lock. “Let me try one more.”

  The lock turned. Lauren jerked down on the handle, releasing the latch. When the door swung out, she backed away, aiming the beam at the opening.

  Matt, Billy, and Bonnie appeared, their expressions anxious. “Danger is closer,” Matt said. “We need to get going.”

  “Right! Just follow me and—”

  A sharp pain stabbed her scalp. Something jerked her backwards. Crying out, she fell and slid. Her flashlight spun on the floor, sending the beam around and around. “Get back in that cell,” a woman shouted, “or she’s dead! I can pull this trigger faster than you can blast me with fire.”

  The light’s slowing rotations highlighted a pair of shoes and bare lower legs that led up to a calf-length skirt. A female guard clutched a fistful of Lauren’s hair with one hand and a gun with the other.

  “Okay,” Billy said. “We’re going.”

  At the edges of the flashlight’s glow, three pairs of shoes shuffled back into the cell.

  “And close the door!”

  As a hand reached out and pulled the inner door, a flashing ball rolled near the guard’s feet. Then, the lock engaged with a click. The ball emanated dozens of beams, illuminating the corridor.

  Grumbling an obscenity, the guard nudged it with her shoe. “No matter. We can put it back later.”

  Lauren lurched to the side, but the guard yanked upward, stretchin
g Lauren’s neck, lifting her bottom off the floor.

  “Augh!” Lauren clenched her teeth, gasping for breath.

  “Will you cooperate now?”

  Bonnie’s voice reached Lauren’s ears. “It’s Stella. That’s bad news.”

  A whisper followed, Billy’s voice, likely too quiet for Stella to hear. “Lauren, try to figure out a way to leave the outer door open.”

  “I’ll cooperate,” Lauren squeaked.

  “Good.” Stella lowered her to the floor and released her hair. “Get the flashlight, and come with me. There is someone who wants to see you. And don’t think about trying to escape. I’m good with this gun.”

  Lauren grabbed the flashlight and turned the beam down the hallway. She had to distract Stella. With the cell lit up by the flashing ball, she would notice the external door. “That way?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Stella gave her a shove with her shoe. “Get up and get moving.”

  Lauren climbed to her feet, and, keeping the flashlight aimed down the hall, she marched ahead at a rapid clip.

  “Not so fast!” Stella called.

  Lauren kept up the pace. Just follow, Stella. Don’t look at the door!

  “Slow down or I’ll shoot!”

  Lauren slowed and aimed the beam at the turn in the hallway ahead. With her hands likely glowing, taking off would be risky. She would be an easy target, especially with the strange ball shooting its own beams her way. But did that really matter? She had to do this. It might be the only way to keep Stella away from that door.

  After sliding her sleeves over her hands, she turned off the light and ran.

  A gunshot cracked behind her, and the wall ahead popped. Lauren flinched but kept running. When she reached the corner and turned, she slipped in the blood and slid sideways. She smacked her shoulder and head against the wall but managed to stay upright.

  Pushing away, she looked back. A light flashed. A second gunshot rang out, and a bullet ripped into the wall inches from her nose, splattering plaster fragments over her face.

  Lauren took off again. The sound of running footsteps trailed her own. When she reached the stairway door, she shoved it open and dashed up the steps. The door slammed behind her, then opened again. Another shot rang out.

  Ducking her head, Lauren sprinted up the stairs. Surely she could outrun that hefty woman, but if she reached Ashley’s level, that would put her in danger. Maybe level two would be a good place to hide. By that time, Stella might be close enough to see the door swing, keeping her from continuing up the stairs, but far enough away to lose the trail.

  When she reached the second level, she jerked the door open, turned on the flashlight, and swept the beam through the hallway to the left. The light struck several doors on the right side of the corridor. She jogged, pausing to check each knob. The first two were locked, but the third opened. She closed it again and hurried on. The first available door would be the obvious place to hide.

  She stopped at the second unlocked door and turned off the flashlight. The stairway door opened, and Stella barged through, looking in the opposite direction.

  Ducking low, Lauren slid into the room and quietly closed the door. She turned the flashlight back on and pointed it at the knob. There was no manual locking mechanism—only a keyhole.

  Slow, squeaking footsteps drew closer. A doorknob rattled nearby, then another. Lauren grabbed her knob and held it tightly. Maybe she could make it appear to be locked.

  With fear mounting, her skin tingled once again. Every squeak, every breath, every heartbeat pounded in her ears.

  A third knob rattled, and a door banged open. Then, Stella’s voice came through. “I’m chasing her, but somebody needs to get back to the cell. Stupid girl took off before I had a chance to close the exterior door. I shot at her, but she still wouldn’t stop.”

  Another voice came through, distant and tinny. “Did you hit her?”

  Lauren held her breath. It sounded like Colonel Baxter.

  “Of course not,” Stella said. “I made sure I missed. I wouldn’t want you-know-who to cut my heart out.”

  “If you’re sure about what you heard, then Tamiel needs to know. I have to check on the reinforcements. They should have been here by now. The storm must be holding them up. Then I’m going out to check the elevation shaft to make sure it isn’t icing over.”

  “Okay. I’ll call Tamiel. Maybe he can help me find Lauren.”

  The footsteps resumed, along with more knob rattling. Finally, the squeaking stopped in front of Lauren’s door. “Tamiel, it’s Stella. I found Lauren trying to break the anthrozils out of the dragon cell. She got away, but I’m on her trail. Everyone’s on attack alert, so I need someone to check on the cell. I chased her instead of taking the time to close the secondary door.”

  “Why are you calling me for such a menial task?” Tamiel’s tone was smooth, yet condescending. “The interior door is strong enough to hold them. They are not dragons.”

  “Yes, I know, but something I overheard got me worried. Lauren said Bonnie emanates the purity ovulum’s song.”

  “Bonnie?” Tamiel let out a long humming sound. “I see. A mobile song is much harder to find.”

  “So if Lauren’s right, maybe Bonnie has more power than we realize.”

  “You have done well to inform me. I will go there myself and see if Bonnie possesses what I have been seeking for so long.”

  “Good. I’ll keep looking for the brat. She’s on the second level somewhere, and the only way to the stairs is past me.”

  The doorknob rattled. Lauren gripped it tightly, keeping it from turning, but would that be enough?

  * * *

  Matt pressed both hands against the door’s left panel and shoved. It wouldn’t budge. Billy and Bonnie joined him, all three bracing their feet and lunging. It bent outward slightly, making the metal squeak, but nothing more.

  “It’s designed to keep a dragon in here,” Billy said. “If I try any more fire on that lock, I’m afraid it’ll just weld in place.”

  “Makes sense.” Matt turned and leaned back against the door. The creeps had Lauren. The situation seemed to be getting worse by the hour. At least he had been quick enough to roll the eye bomb out before he closed the door. Now they could talk without worrying about its snooping eyes and ears.

  After Billy relit the rope with a quick puff of fire, Matt held it close to Bonnie. “Okay, let’s think about this. Lauren said that you’re emanating the ovulum’s song. Can we use that information?”

  “Maybe,” Bonnie said. “I’ve been having this dream about two children of Methuselah who are trapped inside an ovulum called the purity ovulum. It’s kind of fuzzy, but I think I remember Methuselah saying its song can break shackles that keep the ovulum imprisoned.”

  “So, do you have a special song?” Matt asked. “Something that might break this lock?”

  “I do have a favorite song.” Bonnie rubbed her wrist. “Whenever the Healers strapped me to the bed for tests, I always sang a psalm Gabriel taught me when I was little. When I woke up, the straps were always loose. And a few times recently, the guard found our cell door unlocked, but I don’t remember if I sang the song that day.”

  “But if you learned that song a long time ago,” Billy said, “why would it be the song of the ovulum now?”

  “After I became an Oracle of Fire, I altered the tune to match a melody that kept running through my head. I had to change the words to fit, but it still has the same meaning.”

  “Then that explains everything,” Billy said. “Let’s see if it works.”

  Bonnie stepped up to the door and bent toward the locking mechanism. After clearing her throat, she sang.

  Oh where can man escape from God,

  To fly from hope, to leave this sod?

  To Heaven’s door? Nay, you are there.

  To beds in Hell? You hear his prayer.

  I fly at dawn and dwell at sea,

&
nbsp; And there you lead and comfort me.

  If darkness covers me at night,

  Behold, you’re there, my shining light.

  Yes, darkness cannot hide from you;

  The night casts off her blackened hue.

  No darkness dwells within your sight,

  My God who gives eternal light.

  The moment she finished the song, a loud click sounded, and the door swung open a few inches, creaking along the way. Billy grabbed the handle and pulled it back, careful not to let it latch. “I need the shirt.”

  Matt picked up Bonnie’s discarded T-shirt. “The eye bomb?”

  “Right. The guards will probably guess who covered it, but at least they won’t know which way we went.”

  Matt handed him the shirt. “We could throw it into the cell and lock it in when we leave.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Do you sense any danger?” Bonnie asked.

  Billy nodded. “But it’s strange. I can’t tell how close it is. It’s like nothing I’ve ever sensed before.”

  The door jerked open, letting in flashing light. A winged man aimed a gun at Billy and pulled the trigger. A popping noise erupted, and a tiny dot of radiance shot from the muzzle and pierced Billy’s forehead, raising a splash of blood. He arched and fell on his back. Writhing on the floor, he called out, “Bonnie! Matt! Run!” Then, his limbs fell limp, and he lay motionless.

  Matt lunged at the winged man. He fired again. Another sparkling dot rocketed out and slammed into Matt’s left bicep. He staggered backwards into Bonnie’s arms.

  As she held him upright, the man stepped into the cell and straddled Billy, pointing the gun at him. “Come with me, Bonnie, or I will finish him off.”

  Bonnie glared at the gunman. “I know who you are, Tamiel. You’re a coward who is so weak, he has to threaten a downed man to apprehend an unarmed woman.”

  While Tamiel returned Bonnie’s stare, a stalemate of violence and defiance, Matt eyed the gun. Light from the eye bomb swirled into its transparent casing. He glanced at Billy. No new blood seeped from his head wound, as if the glittering projectile had cauterized the wound.