Dreamwalkers: The Awakening

CHAPTER 24

We jog through the valley, desperately in search of a gap in the large rock formations. "Keep your eyes open for the alcove," Charlie directs us. "She said it wasn't far."

This is it. Everything we've been through, my family, Zoë's family, the hundreds if not thousands of people around the world waiting for their loved ones to wake up—it's all been leading to this moment.

Please don't let us be too late, please don't let us be too late. I think to myself in a panicked, repetitive fashion. There's never been a time in my life where I've been more frightened or felt more pressured. Returning to the colony without bringing Natalie home would be devastating.

Zoë walks a few meters ahead of us. "Do you hear that?"

Rushing to catch up, Charlie and I listen intently. "It sounds like crying," I offer.

"It sounds like it's right next to us." Charlie turns back and forth, trying to pinpoint the location of delicate sobs. "There's nobody else here."

"Are you picking up on anything, Emma?" Zoë asks.

I take a few steps toward the center of the valley letting the bright moonlight wash over me as I wait for inspiration. In the distance stands a single tree, silhouetted in darkness. A gentle whisper tickles at my ears, calling to a part of my soul that's long lied dormant. Suddenly, I feel overwhelmingly compelled to walk to the tree.

Charlie calls out to me but I ignore him. For a moment, all the other sounds in the world disappear. It's just me and the voices locked within the tree. The closer I move to it, the more my mind becomes a twitching, electrified mess of words I don't understand and thoughts that are not my own.

The thoughts multiply with each step I take, running together and overlapping, growing more unintelligible but drawing me in with great intensity. When I finally reach the tree, it invites me to connect with it.

Lifting my hand, I place it on the bark of the trunk, triggering a metamorphosis.

The trunk illuminates with a soft glow that travels upward and spreads like wildfire to the leaves, transforming them from dark green foliage to bright, white twinkling lights. These aren't leaves—they're memories.

A gentle breeze flows through the valley, rattling the branches and shaking a few of the memories free. They glide through the air toward Zoë, who stands just a few feet away, staring at me. As they merge with her chest, she asks, "how did you know?"

I shake my head in disbelief. "I didn't," I respond, turning back to the tree. "I heard voices so I followed them."

"You heard voices?"

"It was like a hundred different conversations happening all at once. I couldn't tell what any of them were saying. Is that how you hear them too?"

"Not really. I can see them; feel them. Almost like they happened to me." She approaches the tree and stares up to the branches, her face a mess of ever changing emotion. "I just have to figure out how to take in this many at once."

Taking a deep breath, Zoë steps forward. She places her palm on the bark right where I had mine. Radiance spreads from her hand throughout the tree, mixing with the light of my energy, creating a brilliant, vibrant green.

The small balls of white light release themselves from the branches and float gracefully down to her. One by one, she absorbs them, like a sponge picking up drops of water. A teardrop runs down her cheek as a vast range of emotions flow into her heart. Without warning, their speed increases and Zoë's breath catches. The last of the memories fall into her like a waterfall, knocking her off her feet.