The Emerald Tablet: Omnibus Edition

by JM HART

  Daniel came back out onto the wing. “Run, Shaun, run. Come on, boy, faster.”

  Shaun dug his toes into the grass and sprinted to catch up. He reached his hand out to Daniel, missed, and touched the flap. He reached up and felt Daniel’s hand around his wrist. Shaun tried to climb, his dirty feet slipping, leaving skid marks along the wing. Daniel held the door with one hand and pulled Shaun towards the cabin with the other. Shaun gripped the side of the cabin, practically crawling in through the door and felt a hot poker in his back. He slipped back out onto the wing. The pain quickly became excruciating and swept over his whole body. Daniel had a strong hold and pulled Shaun screaming, up and inside the plane. Shaun lay slumped over Jade and Daniel’s lap.

  Alex put his hand on his head. “You’ll be okay, Shaun.”

  Shaun felt Alex’s little hand on his head patting him as the plane turned and accelerated away from the house. Kevin pushed the throttle all the way up and the plane thrust forward. It seemed to take forever to get into the air and when the tyres left the ground Shaun’s stomach suddenly dropped and they were up.

  “You’re bleeding! Oh, my god, you’re bleeding!” Kath said.

  He could see ahead between the two front seats as if he was lying on the back seat of a car. Kevin and Callie were pulling back on the yoke, changing the pitch of the plane, as it went higher and higher into the dark sky. Molly’s ears must be aching, Shaun thought when she let out a piercing scream. Alex sobbed quietly on Jade’s lap. Daniel pushed down harder on Shaun’s back trying to stop the bleeding. I’ve been shot, he wanted to say. The bullet hasn’t come out the other side. It must be lodged in an organ or something. He was dizzy and didn’t feel much of anything any more. He looked at Alex and said, “You’re alright … you’ll be fine,” and Shaun’s eyes closed.

  *

  Casey lay on the sofa in Amy’s house. The windows were boarded up. The chill of the English air was coming under the doors and down the chimney. Casey could hear Sophia and Amy as they tried to wake him up. Their voices seemed to be a long way away. He was too far from his body to go back now.

  Casey could feel the other boy’s distress and moved closer towards him until he saw him shudder. A cold chill ran down the boy’s spine. I’m the cold chill, he thought. Casey endeavored to see where he was and to get a look at him, but he could only see out of the boy’s eyes. He was in a plane, that much was obvious. The boy was hot, sticky with sweat and he could feel everyone else’s emotional pain. He was peering through the cockpit window into the dark, searching the fields for someone. He spotted a woman, his mother, running from the back of the house and steered the plane straight across the field towards her. A wave of relief washed over him once she was on board and could help fly. Casey felt the boy’s surge of gratitude for a boy who was with his mother, when suddenly the other boy was shot in the back.

  Casey managed to move from the boy’s mind, around the cockpit and out through the windshield to look back at him. This is so incredible — I’ve totally left my body. Hey, I know that face, I know that guy! Casey thought. It was the last thing he remembered seeing a year ago, when he fell from the bridge into the floodwaters.

  Casey heard the boy’s mother telling him to pull up; they pulled on the controls together lifting the nose up and the plane rising into the air. She called him Kevin — his name is Kevin! They were in the air. Behind them, Casey could see dark clouds heading towards the rear of the plane. It wasn’t any ordinary storm. The clouds were controlled; a swarm of evil micro-organisms were chasing them. A few surrounded the engine, so it became totally concealed by what looked like a swarm of bees. It ignited into flames and Kevin and the passengers screamed as the flames lit up the sky.

  Why am I seeing this? I am about to witness this kid’s death. It was terrible, they had no chance, and the engine was gone. The nose bowed to the earth and gravity did the rest. The girl in the back was yelling at Kevin to open a door. Why would she want him to open the door? Casey wondered. There was no point in jumping. Casey slipped back inside Kevin. Kevin’s desire to save his family was so overwhelming that Casey felt like he was going to explode with energy. Kevin had become a powerhouse.

  The girl leant forward and Casey could hear her as if she was in his own head. “Kevin, listen to me,” she said. “Relax, you got this.”

  Next to Kevin, his mother was fighting with the controls and trying to spin a wheel down at the side of her seat. “Trim, trim,” she said, trying to get the nose of the falling plane to lift up. “Trim, damn it. I can’t hold it.”

  Then Kevin relaxed. Casey could feel him relax and his own body, lying on the couch with Sophia and Amy around him, relaxed. Kevin, can you hear me? Casey asked. He didn’t answer. Casey watched as a small hole started to appear in the atmosphere directly in front of the plane as it jolted and dived. Everyone screamed. Lightning slammed into the tail, taking out the rudder along with Kevin’s focus.

  Kevin? Casey said.

  *

  Kevin struggled with the controls and thought, I’m a little busy, if you haven’t noticed. I hear you, loud and clear. Get the hell out of my head. Then suddenly they traded places. Kevin was inside Casey’s mind seeing Casey’s memories. He could feel a cold cloth on his brow. He was lying on a comfy couch. Casey had been with a girl, laughing and riding a motorcycle. She looked familiar too. Kevin didn’t have the mental capacity to focus on her, because his family was about to die. He pulled himself out of Casey’s head and back into the cockpit.

  Casey could feel Kevin’s confusion. You know her, Casey said, don’t you? Come here, come to us, come to England.

  You’re about a thousand miles away and three days too late, Kevin replied. The girl was yelling again for Kevin to open the door. I know who you are. Kevin’s eyes moved over Casey’s memory again, seeing him riding down the driveway lined with birch trees on a chilly English afternoon. He focused on the memory and opened the door. The cockpit was filled with sage and lemongrass and his mouth tasted of metal. A soft hum pulsed through the plane. Lightning exploded, revealing a translucent ripple of energy stretched out in front; an opening, a doorway.

  The engine stopped and the sky was filled with silence. The plane continued to fall, dropping into the mirage, vanishing from the sky.

  *

  Casey felt heavy, back in his own body on the sofa. He was surrounded by Joe, Terry, Amy, Father McDonald and Sophia. Casey willed his muscles to move; he had to tell Sophia what he had seen. He stirred. It was hard to get control of his own body again, it felt like lead. He started feeling the sofa under his body and Amy changing the wet cloth on his brow. Slowly he opened his eyes. Apparitions in the room were fading as he returned.

  “Hey, you,” Amy said. “Are you okay?”

  Casey tried to slowly prop himself up. His body still felt like it weighed an additional two hundred pounds. He was exhausted, but he needed to talk to Sophia. He needed to tell her before he forgot. He dropped back onto the sofa. His lips were dry and Terry was ready with a glass or water. Casey reached for the glass. Terry held it to Casey’s mouth. He took a sip and said. “Sophia, I think it’s the others. His name’s Kevin.”

  Father McDonald struggled onto his feet and moved closer to Casey. “Is the boy okay? Who else is with him?”

  3

  Knights at the long table: Casey. England.

  Boom! The windows rattled. Outside, a high-pitched, teeth-clenching screech of metal could be heard scraping down the driveway.

  Joe was first to the door.

  Terry, Amy and Father McDonald, already on their feet, followed Joe. “You two stay here,” Amy said, looking at Casey and Sophia. Amy’s gaze met Sophia’s blue eyes. “Look after him, okay.” She left the room.

  “You guys!” Joe yelled over his shoulder as he ran out. “It’s a plane!” He jumped down the steps following the aircraft and waiting for it to stop sliding.

  *

  Just short of crashing into the birch trees, the plane lay silent i
n the twilight. No burst of flames, no smoldering fire. Joe approached with caution. The plane rested, tilted on its side. The left wing had been torn off on impact and lay a yard away from the aircraft. The paint was stripped back, the side sliced open and the tyres had blown out. It was amazing it wasn’t a fireball. Joe thought he saw movement from inside the plane. He pushed down and bounced on the right wing testing its stability. Confident it would hold he hoisted himself up. He saw people moving in the darkness of the cabin. He pulled at the door. It wouldn’t open, so he dug his nails in between the cracks of the door and the plane and tried to wrench it open. No good. The grass around the belly of the aircraft was starting to smoke a little and he thought he could smell fuel. A baby cried. Someone was kicking at the door. The plane rolled a bit more onto its belly, tilting further to the left and flames ignited in the grass. The banging against the door grew stronger. Joe pulled and pulled at the door. Everything was happening too fast.

  Terry came up next to Joe with a crowbar in hand. “Okay, Joe. Together!”

  Both men leant their weight against the wedged bar and the door strained and popped open. A baby coughing, choking on its own tears was handed to Joe. He passed the little bundle down to Amy, and she quickly walked away from the plane to safety. Next was a young boy. Terry lowered him to the ground. Father McDonald took the boy’s hand and together they rushed to Amy. The plane’s tail ignited.

  “Mommy, Daddy!” the young boy cried. He was pulling at Father McDonald’s hand trying to go back to help.

  Joe held his hand out to each person emerging from the plane and guided them off the wing. Two teenage girls, two women, one gripping a white and blue icebox, two boys, and the man who had kicked the door dragged an unconscious young man out onto the wing. Joe’s eyes were tearing with smoke.

  “Joe, move back,” Terry yelled.

  Joe jumped off the wing and the man dragged the boy to the edge of the wing and climbed down. He grabbed the young man under his armpits and pulled.

  “Grab his legs,” he yelled to Joe.

  Together they carried and laid him on the ground next to the coughing boys. Joe expected the plane to blow any second. Amy took the two women and children into the house. Joe scrambled after Terry to grab a hose, and shovels. “We have to get this fire under control before it burns the surrounding trees.” Joe dragged the hose across to the plane, passing the passengers taking refuge against the house, and saw the unconscious young man was sitting up. Terry was firing foam onto the burning aircraft.

  “Where did you get that from?” Joe asked.

  “It was in the boot of the SUV,” Terry yelled back.

  The man and one of the boys picked up the shovels and tossed dirt from the driveway onto the fuselage. Joe turned the nozzle and a stream of water flowed.

  The man yelled at him to stop.

  “Not water! It will just spread the fuel.” He sat the boy back down against the house and jogged over to Joe. “Let it burn itself out.”

  Joe turned off the nozzle and Terry finished emptying the fire extinguisher.

  A boy with a button nose and auburn hair hanging in his eyes stood next to Joe and said, “Hi, thanks for that. The plane looks like it’s ready for a shave, don’t you think? Fair dinkum, we’re lucky. We’ve made a hell of a mess of your yard. That will be Kevin’s fault,” he said, pointing to the athletic-looking chap.

  Joe smiled. The odd young man walked off over to his friend and smacked him on the back and side by side they watched the smoldering flames.

  Joe, rubbing dirt off his hands, walked up to the man and Terry and said, “Where are you from? Your accents tell me you’re not from around here. If I was to take a stab in the dark, I’d say you’re from that land down under. Aye, well, you’re best to be moving inside.”

  Terry shook Daniel’s hand and said, “I’m Terry. That was Joe. Come in and get yourselves cleaned up.”

  Joe walked up the back stairs into the kitchen and leant his elbows on the sink. He turned on the tap, and allowed the water to pool in his cupped hands, splashing the water onto his face. He gave the soap to Terry, before pulling paper towels off the wall mount to pat his face and hands dry. He sized up the newcomers who had literally dropped out of the sky.

  The woman, late thirties, shoulder-length sandy blonde hair, hiding behind glasses that gave her a dull, slightly old-fashioned look, was clutching a wee icebox under one arm and held the girl baby in the other.

  She stood up and moved to the fridge. “Can we put this in your freezer?” she asked, and reluctantly handed over the tiny icebox. Amy smiled and obliged, moving a few items to make space.

  “What the hell?” Joe tossed the wet paper towels in the garbage. He moved smoothly, considering his size, around the kitchen table, nearly knocking Amy off her feet as she closed the refrigerator door. The eldest boy from the plane had a large patch of fresh blood on the back of his shirt. It was soaked. His shirt was torn and burnt around the tear, a bullet hole. The boy followed Joe’s gaze and tried to crank his neck around to look at himself. Joe pulled up his shirt to find the source of the bleeding. The icebox woman handed the baby to one of the teenagers and joined Joe’s search of the boy’s back. But there was nothing there.

  She held the boy’s shoulders and said, “What were you thinking!” She pulled him in for a hug. He had no chance to pull away. “Thank you,” she said, “but don’t you ever do that again.”

  The man holding the little lad also embraced the young man.

  “Okay, it was nothing. Don’t sweat.” Embarrassed, he stepped out of the embrace.

  The other young lad with the sooty face — who was trying to hide behind his fringe — looked up and said, “Yeah, thanks, man.”

  “You did it, K. You did it,” the girl said softly.

  No one seemed badly hurt, a few bumps and bruises. They can’t be all one family.

  “Nice flying, dude. Fair dinkum, I thought we were on our way to meet my dad. I was shitting myself,” his button-nosed pal said, patting him on the back.

  But what the hell does fair dinkum mean? Joe thought.

  Terry cleared his throat and began the introductions. Joe was impressed by his host and hostess who were now unflinchingly welcoming these new people into their home. It was hardly forty-eight hours since they let Sophia, Father McDonald and himself take refuge.

  In a strong Aussie accent the man shook Terry’s hand and arm and said, “I’m Daniel, thanks a million. I wouldn’t have been able to open the door without you and your crowbar. This is my wife Callie, and our baby Molly. This is Sally and her two children, Tim and Kath. That’s Jade, Shaun and my two sons, Alex and —”

  Joe turned at the utterly unexpected sound of Sophia and Casey’s voices in unison saying, “Kevin.”

  Everyone turned in the direction of the living room. Standing on the threshold, half-hidden by shadows, were Sophia and Casey. Kevin wiped his eyes against his shoulders, pushing his fringe to one side to see clearly. Confused, he stepped forward. What the hell?

  Casey and Sophia stepped forward into the light and Kevin stopped as if he recognized Casey. He turned to his mother to say something and stopped.

  “How do you know my name?” Kevin asked.

  The atmosphere in the room had changed. Everyone was mystified and wanted to know.

  “Sophia talked about you. You recognize her, don’t you?”

  Kevin looked nervously at his mother and father and then at his friend, who shrugged his shoulders.

  “Yeah, I remember her. She was there that day, when you fell. You fell into the river.”

  Joe caught glimpses of confusion, affection and shame from Kevin’s parents.

  “How the hell did you survive?” Kevin said. “How?”

  “Yeah?” Tim said, stepping around the table and standing by Kevin. “He got into so much shit trying to help you that day. Everyone thought he was a crazy attention-seeker.” Tim raised his hands and made exclamation marks with his fingers. “The boy w
ho cried wolf.”

  Jade stepped forward too and stood next to Tim. It was starting to look a little like a showdown.

  “Okay, people,” the young lass said, “I think we should be focusing on why we are all connected? Why are we all here?” She moved forward and introduced herself to Casey and Sophia. “I’m Jade.”

  Then she shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other, looking down at her feet, as if deciding whether to speak further or not. She chose not to speak and stepped back. Kevin looked at her as if he couldn’t quite work her out. She’s a strange wee hen, Joe thought. One minute she was shy, the next outgoing and taking control.

  “She’s right,” Father McDonald said. “Sophia has been prepared for …. I don’t fully understand what, but the time is now. For these young ones to know each other is a miracle. You just survived a plane crash and that’s a miracle, and for none of us to be sick with the virus is another miracle. God has protected us with his armor.”

  Then, in a faint voice, Kevin heard Shaun say, “And I took a bullet in the back and only have a bloody shirt, is a miracle.”

  Terry said. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  *

  Joe helped Amy prepare the house for her new guests. He carried the linen to her great-aunt’s old room downstairs, which was for Daniel, his wife and his two young ones.