“I’ll go with—” Chou started using the trunk of the tree to support herself as she struggled to her feet, then dropped to her butt again, turned, and threw up. She was badly concussed; I was sure of it.
“Stay here!” I ordered, then staggered back in the direction I’d just come from before she could get back to her feet and come after me.
Fear gripped me as I stepped back into the dust-zone. I swung my flashlight left and right, looking for any tracks that might indicate that Albert was nearby, while periodically yelling his name. But there was nothing.
The collector glowed brighter and brighter.
“Albert!” I croaked again, all but ready to give up.
From the wall of dust surrounding me, a vague shape materialized
“Peter!” I yelled. Bleeding and bruised, the man looked exhausted but in his arms, he carried Albert. I grabbed Freuchen by his meaty forearm and started to drag him toward the perimeter of the dust-zone. “Quickly,” I urged, glancing back at him…
…and a second shape, bigger than Freuchen and unbowed detached itself from the darkness and resolved into the figure of the giant, tainted monster just a few paces behind us. I reached for my sword, determined to finish him, then realized I’d left it with Miko.
I pulled Freuchen onward, screaming expletives at him to move faster. Then, my flashlight illuminated the trees ahead of us, and we were out of the dust-zone again.
Freuchen slowed to a stop, his chest heaving like bellows, and lowered Albert to the forest floor.
“No,” I said, shining the light back over his shoulder, illuminating the monster who was once a man. “Keep moving. We’re not safe.”
Freuchen turned and saw the man, saw the glowing outline of the collector as it primed to ignite and came to the same conclusion I had. The monster-man was going to make it out of the dust-zone moments before the air would ignite.
I knew he’d made up his mind even before he pressed his hands against my cheek, then ruffled Albert’s hair. “Good luck, Meredith Gale. It has been an honor.” Then my friend turned and ran at the giant of a man, screaming a banshee war cry as he tackled him and the two fell into the swirling darkness and dust.
I pulled Albert to me and turned away from the collector just as the world ignited into white-hot fire, but not before I saw Freuchen and the monster vanish forever into the blinding light of the aurora.
Twenty-Four
“Peter!” I yelled into the darkness when the aurora had passed. I waved the beam of my flashlight through the cloud of ash like a sword. There was no answer. I knew he was gone, but every cell in my body rejected that conclusion, screaming in protest at the absurdity of the idea that that mountain of a man could be snuffed out of existence so quickly. That there would be no more of his deep belly-laughs. Or the way he sounded more like he was sawing wood than snoring. Or his seemingly endless supply of optimism. The thought simply could not find a place to fit in my brain. It was an agony that even the afterglow of the aurora could not sooth.
So, I kept yelling into the chaos for him… right up until I tripped over something lying on the perimeter of the dust-zone and the forest. It was the monster-man’s severed arm, perfectly cauterized just above the elbow. I must have stared at it for at least a minute. It had been that close. And again, I understood the difference that a single second can make to the trajectory of a life. If Freuchen had not delayed that monster as he had, it would have hunted us all down mercilessly. It was only then that I accepted my friend’s sacrifice, and the razor-sharp pain of that sacrifice found its way into my heart and cut a permanent home deep within it. I sank to my knees, my head facing into my hands, and I wept.
That was where Chou, as good as new after the aurora, found me, Albert at her side.
Oh my, God! Albert! I had abandoned the kid. Simply walked off in my shock at Freuchen’s death. Either Albert had found Chou, or she had found him. Either way, they had both found me.
“Where’s Peter?” Albert said.
I looked down at the boy’s moonlike face staring up at me. Instead of an answer, I pulled him close to me and held him as close as I could. He resisted for a moment, then sank into me, and I felt his shoulders begin to heave as he too began to weep.
From the forest, Michael and the others made their way toward us, led by Silas, his electronic eyes floating through the darkness like two wandering stars.
“We must leave now,” he said. “The chances that Abernathy has people searching for us is too high.” I heard the others whisper their agreement. I have no recollection of the walk back to the Brimstone, but someone must have used the walkie-talkies to call because Amelia and Bartholomew were waiting for us in the light of the airship’s doorway and ushered us all inside, locking the door behind them.
“I am so very sorry for the loss of your… our friend. He will be greatly missed,” Bartholomew said, as he led me back to my cot. I dropped onto it and laid there staring, at the ceiling. I said nothing. What was there to say, after all?
“We need to get airborne as quickly as possible,” Chou said, from somewhere off to my right. She and my compatriots’ voices sounded distant, almost like I was listening to them from the other end of a tunnel.
“Can you at least tell us what the hell is going on?” Amelia said, her voice taking on a worried tone.
“In the morning,” Chou replied. “Right now, we need to get to a safe altitude.”
“Okay,” Amelia said, and I heard her walking off in the direction of the cockpit. Minutes later, the airship gave a shudder, and then we were in the air again. We ascended quickly, then slowed to a hover.
I was alone now, except for Silas. He stood in the corner, out of the way, but never out of sight of me. As everyone filtered from the room, he walked to my side and knelt in front of me, his eye-bar level with my eyes.
“How are you?” he asked quietly.
“It just doesn’t seem real? How can he be gone?”
“He made an incredible sacrifice for us, noble beyond words.”
There was no arguing with that, but it did nada to alleviate the pain that flowed through my body. And intertwined with that pain, wrapped ever so tightly around it, was an absolute hatred. And it wasn’t exclusively reserved just for Abernathy, either. There was plenty to share with the intelligence that was really behind all of this—the entity that had ruined everything, not just for my band of friends and survivors, but for all of humanity: The Adversary.
“I’m going to kill them,” I said suddenly, surprising myself with the hot venom that dripped from my words.
“I know,” Silas said quietly. He paused, then laid a metal hand on my shoulder and said, “and I understand,” before turning away and going to join the others.
Outside, the first light of dawn seeped into the world, turning the room a muted orange. I stood and walked to a window and watched for a while as the sun slowly woke the world.
And I began to plan.
A native of Cardiff, Wales, Paul Antony Jones now resides near Las Vegas, Nevada with his wife. He has worked as a newspaper reporter and commercial copywriter, but his passion is penning fiction. A self-described science geek, he's a voracious reader of scientific periodicals, as well as a fan of things mysterious, unknown, and on the fringe. That fascination inspired his five-book Extinction Point series, following heroine Emily Baxter's journey of survival after a very unconventional alien invasion.
The Paths Between Worlds, the first book in Paul’s new This Alien Earth trilogy is now available.
You can learn more about Paul and his upcoming releases via his blog at DisturbedUniverse.com or facebook.com/AuthorPaulAntonyJones
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A Memory of Mankind: (This Alien Earth Book 2) Page 24
