by JM HART
Casey felt no pain as his bones were crushed. The angel’s touch was gentle, its illumination was blinding. He couldn’t look into its face, his eyelids sealed tight and in Casey’s mind’s eye he saw a rainbow enclosing them. In a partially conscious state, in that feeling of being between sleep and wakefulness, just before the sensation of falling, Casey saw his mom. No oxygen left in his body, he smiled back at his mom while the wings unfolded two at a time, lowering Casey to the dusty floor of the old barn. He heard the dog move. Casey imagined it was listening, tilting its head to the left and to the right. The dog barked in the distance, running to the house. Casey, not breathing, moved towards his mother.
The angel gently laid down Casey’s head. “Metatron, my name is Metatron.”
*
The barking echoed into the house and down the stairs. Terry and Amy looked at each other for a second, then together they ran for the stairs. “Casey,” Amy yelled. The sound of the step splintering under her foot was like bones breaking to Terry. She lost her balance. Reaching for him, she felt her fingers skim his shirt. Terry stretched out to catch her but missed and Amy fell over the edge of the stairs landing on the hard dirt floor.
“Amy!” He raced back downstairs.
The wind knocked out of her, she struggled to breathe. She spoke between breaths. “I’m … okay. It’s … Casey. I know it … go!” She pulled herself up awkwardly.
Terry ran up and outside. The dog headed in the direction of the barn.
“Oh no, dear God, no,” Terry mumbled. Casey was on the ground with blood coming out of his nose. Terry’s mouth went dry, his heart raced. The horror of the first time he’d seen Casey lying motionless came flooding back and he was afraid. Terry got down on his knees and placed his hand on the boy’s chest — nothing; he put his ear to his mouth — nothing. A tear escaped from the corner of Terry’s eye and dripped onto Casey’s neck. Terry waited to feel the warmth of his breath — nothing.
“Terry. What’s happening, what’s wrong with him?” Out of breath, Amy crouched opposite him.
Terry ignored Amy’s quivering voice and began resuscitation. Compressions, one breath, compressions, another breath, compressions, another breath, … He kept repeating the mantra inside his head.
The sound of Casey coughing and choking was bliss. Terry turned him on his side. Casey coughed up blood and spat.
Amy brushed his hair out of his eyes. “What happened?”
Casey looked pasty; exhausted, he managed to push out a smile. He watched them fuss over him. He lifted his head up. Amy gently pushed it back down and moved his hair out of his eyes.
“Don’t try to get up, wait a few minutes,” she said. “Think it’s about time you had a haircut, mister. You’re a mangy poodle.” Amy’s attention was drawn to the lofty heights of the barn. “I never noticed how much light there was in here. I bet the rafters would be filled with secrets.”
Casey lifted himself to his elbows and slowly sat up, breathing deeply. His chest expanded, filling with air, triggering a fit of coughing.
“Take it easy, pal,” Terry said crouched beside him.
Once the coughing stopped he took in a couple of deliberately short breaths. His body wasn’t satisfied, and independently took in consecutive rapid shallow breaths. He looked as if he had bottled up the tears of a lifetime and breathed out in a heavy sigh.
“My mouth tastes terrible.” He snorted back blood from his nose and spat. “I feel like I have just gone twelve rounds in the boxing ring.” He massaged his cheeks and said, “My jaw’s stiff, and my ear is throbbing.”
“And you don’t remember what happened? You gave us a hell of a fright!” Amy said.
“I’m not sure. I opened the door, grabbed the ladder, then my head exploded.
After that, I don’t remember.”
Terry held out his hand and Casey looked up. “Ready to stand, pal?”
“Yeah, yeah sure.” He steadied himself against Terry. He wanted to just hug him and bury his head into Terry’s chest and sob. But he couldn’t; he was supposed to be grown-up now. He had had hairy armpits for the past year, and his voice had matured. Then why do I feel like a terrorized little kid? he mused. They both helped him walk back to the house and into the kitchen. The dog followed, settling in to sit by the door.
*
“Well, good morning,” Amy said, a little too chirpy, turning off the computer screen. “You slept well. Grab yourself a bowl of cereal and come downstairs when you’re ready. I’m off to sort out those last few items. We’re going to have a great garage sale when the world gets back on its feet.”
“What are you doing on the computer that you don’t want me to see, Amy?”
“Nothing. Nothing really.”
She looked embarrassed, avoiding his eyes as she glanced out the window.
“What am I doing? This isn’t like me,” she said and looked him in the eyes. “I was just watching the online news. It feels like we are cocooned out here and I want it to stay that way. I want to protect you from the chaos out there.” She flicked her head towards the window.
“You can’t protect me, not really.”
“But we have to keep trying. I saw you with my book the other night.”
“Which one?”
“Don’t play dumb, you’re no good at it,” she said, pulling her long hair into a scruffy ponytail. “My grandfather’s leather book of splendor.”
“Sorry, I should have asked.”
“I don’t mind. I don’t own it, I’m just the caretaker. You’re welcome to meditate on it anytime. I know you speak Aramaic too.”
Casey laughed. “I know, right. And I feel something, I really do — I don’t know how come. When I hold it, when I open it, I become transfixed on the letters. I’m pulled into its energy, I don’t know how to describe it. My body relaxes, I feel calm. It’s like somewhere inside me a treasure box is flung open and sparkling sapphires, rubies, emeralds and diamonds radiate through my body. I feel illuminated in gold dust, and my eyes are filled with a scintillating light. I feel close to God — to all things, as if the universe is cradling me.”
“Wow. That’s amazing! Were your parents religious?”
“No, I haven’t even been baptized.”
“Have you ever read the Bible, Torah, or Qur’an?”
“I read the Bible a little when we were in the hospital. There was nothing else to read.”
“I think God has his eye on you, Casey.”
“There’s something else though.”
“What’s that? You can tell me anything, Casey, honestly.”
He paused. Should I tell her about the experience of drowning in the river, or about my ability to see auras, or that I can move objects with my mind? Can she help me? God, I wish she could. But she has enough just surviving, and now the pregnancy. I’m not her kid, I’m not her responsibility. Sophia will help me.”
“Casey, what is it?”
“Um, nothing. Let’s just finish watching the news together.”
He turned the computer screen on. Amy watched him sit on the side of the old table, dressed in denim jeans and a white t-shirt. “That shirt is getting too tight around the arms for you.” She patted his leg, letting him know everything was okay.
On the screen, the reporter standing in the middle of a street tried to make an announcement, while looters ran around in the background. The tall buildings blocked the sun casting a grey haze across the reporter’s face. “The USA has closed its borders,” he said. “All planes have been grounded and the airports have been closed. Cruise ships are being denied the right to dock for supplies. The death toll has tripled and is rising. We are annihilating ourselves. Who said we would nuke ourselves, blow ourselves to smithereens? Forget about the threat from other countries, the battle is within each and every one of us. What is the government doing? Where is the vaccination we were promised? Where has Professor Ellen Freeman and her promising vaccine gone? Has all this madness been an engagement in biological
warfare? These are the questions on everyone’s —”
The reporter ducked. Gunfire filled the streets; looters were shooting shopfront windows and setting rubbish bins alight. The reporter composed himself and pushed his earpiece into his ear. “It has just been reported that the National Guard will now close New York City. I have been advised to stop broadcasting and leave the area immediately but —” His shirt puffed with a breath of air before it changed to crimson. He seized his stomach, looked into the camera, and painfully stated, “I’ve been shot.” The cameraman swung around to where the shots had been fired from, and through the lens the world was eyeballing the smoking barrel of a gun.
Violently, the gun was pulled back, turned around and the butt of the gun was smashed against the camera’s optics, cracking the glass as the soldier yelled, “SHUT THAT DOWN, SHUT THAT DOWN — NOW!” The screen went blank.
Amy had her hand at her throat. “God help them; help them all.”
“You just saw what they did, Amy. Why would you say that?” Casey, not waiting for an answer, left the room.
*
Casey sat alone on the back step in the morning sun, shuffling his cereal around with his spoon. The soy milk still tastes like cardboard. He looked up to see the Labrador running out of the barn.
“Hey, girl, are you hungry? I’ve got a half-eaten bowl of cereal with your name on it.” He left the bowl on the step and went inside, down to the basement.
“Morning, pal,” Terry said. “You up for this?”
“Sure, lay it on me.” Casey’s throat was sore and his head felt a little light. But otherwise, he felt fine.
They both lifted the top trunk down and could see the mold on its back. Amy inspected each one, dragging her hand along the surface as if stroking an elegant stallion. “If you guys could take both of these upstairs, that would be good.”
“Terry, what’s this?” Casey asked.
“Its mold. It’s also along this support beam. The wall is stone. Something has to be causing the dampness. Casey, help me with this last trunk.” Together they shuffled it away from the wall, exposing a hole. A few select stones were missing, which had created an opening the size of a small dog.
“That’s the biggest rat hole I’ve ever seen,” Amy said, trying to lighten the tension that had suddenly entered the basement. “Pass me the torch, Amy,” Terry said, putting his hand out behind him.
“Can you see anything?” Casey asked.
Terry was lying face down on the dirt floor peering into the hole. “It looks like there might be a chamber beyond the wall, a tunnel maybe. I’ve read there are tunnels all around here that were used for walking secretively between different properties, like lords meeting their mistresses, or hiding loot from thieves. The Cleeves Cove cave system is north-west of here. Shh, I can hear dripping.”
“You’re the only one talking, sweetie.”
Amy and Casey smirked at each other, shook their heads and rolled their eyes. They crowded around Terry, trying to get a look. “We’ll have to make the entrance wider. Wide enough for us to crawl through and take a good look.”
“I’m not crawling anywhere,” Amy said, losing interest. “I’m happy with the trunks. You two can go crawling through a maze of tunnels, but I’m going to go make us some lunch.”
“I’m feeling a little tired,” Casey said. “I wouldn’t mind some downtime.”
*
“I can smell the forest, how come I smell the forest? Can you smell my room? It’s got a musty smell. That old-grandma smell,” Casey said.
“Don’t freak, okay?” Sophia whispered.
“Okay, but why would I freak?”
“I can’t smell your room, because you are visiting me this time. You came here, you came to me. This is really good, Casey, but you can’t leave your body unprotected. You’re a flame to moths, and you don’t want the kind of moths that are fluttering around the world at the moment.”
“This feels terrific. If I look down, I can’t see my body. It’s like I am awake within my sleeping self.”
“You are really changing, Casey. This is the last time we will be able to communicate for a while. We’re moving on — it’s time for me to leave the cabin. Next time we talk it will be in the flesh.”
“You remind me of Amy. Your confidence — she has such confidence that this virus will blow over and everything will be okay. You even look a little like her, you know.”
“Her thinking is resilient, mine is not so.” Sophia’s tone deepened. “Casey, I have wanted to be with my family, and the only time I can do that is when I am asleep or astral traveling. Astral travel isn’t the healthiest thing, living in this reality. I have been selfish and have wanted to die. Amy is selfless and tough. I am learning to be strong.”
“Do you still want to die?”
“My best friends were gunned down. Mother Catherine, who I loved as if she was my own mother, died a painful death to save me. But no, I don’t want to die.”
“There’s a lot to live for Sophia. I’m your friend. The universe wants us here for a reason. It wants us to want to live. I was saved from the flood and you were saved from the fire. We have to keep going. I know things are pretty crazy. We went into town last week to get supplies for the next few months: buckets of protein powder, tinned food, a whole bunch of stuff, and we saw some infected people.”
“How’re the headaches?”
“Pretty good. The more I practice, the less it hurts. I can move things as long as they’re not too heavy, otherwise I get a killer headache. It’s actually starting to be fun.”
“Learn to reverse the energy flow.”
“What do you mean?”
“Instead of projecting your energy onto an external object, use it to propel yourself. Use the Earth’s gravity to your advantage; like the opposite pole of a magnet. Flip yourself between the two to draw things near, or propel. Imagine you can create your own flying carpet.”
“Flying carpet, that sounds a little nuts.”
“Well, maybe not a flying carpet. Jet streams of energy from the soles of your feet, like a rocket, might be more like it. You can do it. The question is: do you want to do it? You’re fading. Casey?”
“I can feel myself awakening, I can hear Amy and Terry talking. Bye, Sophia. I’ll be waiting. I hope you’re real. God, I hope you’re real.”
2
Frenzy of flies: Jade. Australia.
It was time to leave the parallel world and Jade shuffled as close as possible to the membrane and placed her hand against it, feeling the coolness. It reminded her of her mother’s lab, the agar jelly she would find in a petri dish. When Jade was younger, she had loved to watch the bacteria multiply. The wall is moving, it’s a living energy. It feels thin and pliable, she was thinking as she felt the pulsing, magnetic field. She pushed her arm through until her fingertips could feel the breeze on the other side.
“Come on, let’s go.” Tim went through, then Jade and Kevin followed behind.
Jade put her hand to her mouth as soon as she was on the other side. “What’s that stench?” A frenzy of flies buzzed around swollen carcasses. “The poor things, they’re kangaroos. Where are we?”
“Back in everyday reality,” Tim said, “where everything has about one per cent of the color of the other world we just left.”
Jade looked around at the burnt landscape. It looked like shades of grey in comparison to where they had been.
Tim babbled on in her ear, his shoulders slumped. “It’s where people don’t give a shit about each other, and the almighty plague is upon us. It’s depressing actually.”
“No, I mean what country?”
“Australia,” Kevin said. “Where do you think you are?”
“Home. Myrtle Beach.”
“You live in a resort at the Gold Coast?”
Jade looked at Tim as if he had two heads. “No. I don’t even know where the Gold Coast is,” she snapped.
“You’re from the States, aren’t you? You
don’t live around here at all,” Kevin said. “We just walked from one end of the world to the other, didn’t we?”
“I must be still drugged. I must be … still in the cabin in the woods!” That’s right, I was kidnapped and woke up feeling cold. There was a black hooded jacket over a chair in the corner. I took it and ran. She touched her head — no cuts, no pain, but there was dried blood matted in her hair, a bruise on her arm and a needle mark. “You got a cell I can use?” she asked, rubbing her arms.
“You mean a mobile. Nah, sorry,” Kevin said.
Thrusting her head forward and raising her voice, she said, “Everyone has a phone!”
“Then where’s yours?” Tim said.
“Look, there’s no point standing around arguing. Let’s get back to my place and you can use my mom’s phone.”
Jade started scratching, feeling tiny pricks against her skin, and her stomach somersaulted. It was nerves. The atmosphere between them had changed. They no longer had an internal dialogue. The effects of the quantum world were wearing off. The day had become gloomy.
“We had mobiles, but our parents snatched them because we ran up a hefty bill of twelve hundred bucks. We use prepaid now and never have any credit. Can only receive calls, so what’s the point in carrying them around?” Kevin explained.
“I couldn’t live without mine,” Jade said.
“Let me guess,” Tim said. “You’re one of those girls always texting her friend who is standing right next to her, and posting online what she had for breakfast, and how beautiful her hair smelt with the new shampoo Mommy bought from some flash department store.”
“No! I use it for research, watching university lectures on YouTube and I can calculate mathematical formulas with it.”
“We have to cross the river. At this time of the day it’s only about knee-deep,” Kevin said. The sky was filled with the same grey clouds and the air was suffocating, with the same humidity that the boys experienced before they had disappeared.
