Chapter 33* The End of the Tunnel
“The funerals are today.”
I hear the voice and nod as best as I can without turning around. I hear footsteps shuffling closer, then stop, and shuffle back out, fading into the corridor.
Standing, I stride to the mirror set on the dressing table and stare into the cracked surface. My splintered reflection looks back at me, pale and hollow. There is an undercurrent of pain in my eyes that has been there ever since we returned from the realm of the gods, dragging one body between us. My cheek is still red from the slap I received. Gemini apologized after, and we spoke and found the same pain in each other that we had in ourselves.
I finger the quaint musical box on the peeling white table. It’s caked with dust, and when I open it the music sputters and dies, but it is still a beautiful thing. Carefully, I use my hands to brush away the dust, seeing the faint glimmer of gold underneath.
We’ve relocated to the nearest village, abandoning the caves in favor of abandoned modern amenities. What’s left of us, at least. Only half of the humans survived the attack on the gods, and those that came back are either severely injured or fractured with pain. Jeremy, at least, has made it back, but he’s lost one of his arms and can’t get up from bed in the makeshift infirmary. Raiders chanced upon a pharmacy in the town with drugs that still had yet to expire, and the medicine is doing well here. But there’s only so much good that can be done for the irreparably damaged.
There is a knock on the door, and a heavier set of footsteps shuffle in. I turn, watching Gemini as he walks to stand by the moth-eaten bed. His back is bowed with pain, and lines are etched into his face. I have not heard his laugh since we returned. He told us his story, of how he found a chip in the wall of his prison and used it to break out.
The fires of his prison have burned away a part of him, blackened it until it peeled away and shriveled up. His threshold for pain is much higher now- all the bars, for every single one of us, have been raised. Only, his and mine have been raised so high that we can’t feel anything.
“Are you going today?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, eyes cast down. His hands shake as he steadies himself on the bedpost, and it sends tremors up his entire body. When he finally looks up at me, his eyes are only pain, too great for tears.
“I… think so.” The words come out difficult. “I- I need to…”
“I understand,” I say quietly. “It’s what she would have wanted.”
“You don’t know that,” he says, and his eyes flash up to meet mine, a hint of anger in them although it dissipates quickly. I feel the backs of my eyes start to burn, and take a step towards him. He immediately slumps, apologetic, and I move forward and slip my arms around his trembling body.
“It’s not your fault,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself. My cheek burns where he slapped me when he found out. I would take a thousand more slaps, gladly, if it meant both of them were back, healthy and whole. I would do anything for them to be here with us, the four of us just like it was at the very beginning.
“But it is.” The words burn in my throat. I’ve said this before but the words keep coming. “I chose this. Me. I’m sorry, Gemini. I’m so sorry.” Breathing gets a little bit harder. “I don’t know- I just-” I release him, stepping back. “I’m going to see Sam,” I say, even though it is possibly the worst thing to say, and then I flee.
The run to the infirmary is short. It’s a crudely constructed structure in the middle of the town square, next to a dried up fountain. Table legs have been hacked off to serve as poles to prop up the tables themselves, which have been nailed together and tied together to form an unsteady shelter. Beds are moth-eaten mattresses on the ground, with moaning people lying atop them. I carefully tread my way through the skinny aisles, heading for the corner.
Sam lies there, all on his own. His eyes are closed and his breathing is labored. The painkillers have been injected into his bloodstream, but all it does is slow his breathing from its roadrunner pace. They say it stops him from going into shock.
I hold his limp hand. It sears my skin with its feverish heat. His lashes cast shadows under his eyes, in addition to the ones that are already there. Running my thumb across his cracked lips, I lay my head against his chest and egg his heartbeat on.
“How is he?” A shadow falls across us. It’s Atermis, her face gaunt and pale. I still haven’t forgotten the way she tried to attack us in the realm of the gods, but I have forgiven her. And Apollo, too. She’s done all she could to help us, but even Apollo, the god of medicine, cannot help Sam.
“It’s too severe an injury,” he’d said sadly, when I screamed and begged him to save Sam. “I can’t do anything. His body has to fight this off on its own.”
I guess, even gods have their limits.
I close my eyes. “The same.” Atermis puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes it in a comforting gesture. She doesn’t know what to say; the uncomfortableness in the silence is telling. Plastering on a smile, I shake my head, twisting to look at her.
“Don’t waste your time here. We’ll be fine.”
One last pat, and she leaves. I turn back to Sam, feeling hopelessness claw at me. What if he dies? Would that meant I’d used the healing square for nothing? Why wasn’t it doing its job?
I’d asked Apollo, but all he had said was that it had done its job by bringing him back from the brink of death. Never mind that he was still hovering at the edge, about to teeter over any moment. Never mind that any time I was away, any time, he could tip over like a statue into the abyss, never to be seen again. He’d be completely gone- there wasn’t even an underworld anymore.
Right then, there is a hitch in his breathing, and his eyes flutter open, staring wildly. His lips try to form words, and his grip on my hand tightens painfully. I let out a cry, and frantically beckon for one of the medics to come over. She hurries over, clumsily checking Sam’s pulse and feeling his forehead. “I don’t- I don’t know-” she stutters, clearly at a loss for words.
Sam pushes her away weakly, reaching for me. I lurch forward, grabbing his hand and cradling it against my chest. “Sam?”
“Kay…la…” His eyes roll back in his head and he slumps down. The medic disappears and comes back a few moments later with Apollo. The god simply rests a hand on his forehead and bows his head, deep in thought.
Finally, Apollo’s eyes meet mine. “He’s fighting. It’s… the last dash, of sorts. This is it, either he makes it or he doesn’t.”
My eyes slip back to Sam. His breathing is hard and harsh, rattling in his chest, coming in shaky puffs. His hand hasn’t let go of mine, but clenches it with strength I didn’t think he possessed in this state. C’mon, I urge. You can do it, Sam.
I don’t know how long we stand there, watching Sam fight for his life. The medic slips away, and eventually Apollo does too. Gemini joins me, resting a hand around my slumped shoulders. He understands. He’s the only one who understands. We don’t say anything, but we imagine we are slow, burning flame, a beacon for Sam. Hope. He had to survive…
A low moan slips out of him. My nails dig into my palms.
And a breath is violently expelled, allowing his chest to deflate, his breathing to slow… and stop.
“Sam?” I don’t bother trying to keep my voice down anymore. “Sam!” I shake his shoulders, hard, willing him to come back, to say something. Tears blur my vision, welling up hot and thick, dripping in fat drops on his face. “Sam, come back to me.” At least, that’s what I mean to say. The words are barely coherent anymore.
He coughs.
Hope floods through me, a tidal wave of it. He coughs again, eyelids fluttering weakly. Heat rushes into his face, turning him a light shade of red. He’s alive, he’s alive- my heart sings. He’s alive.
Finally, he cracks open his eyelids, and with a little bit of difficulty focuses on me and Gemini. He tries to speak, but his voice doesn’t seem to work. “It’s okay,” I say quickly, smoothing matted hair out of his face. “You don’t have to say anything.”
But he does. “Zo…ey?”
Gemini’s face tightens, and the arm around my shoulders slips away. I cringe, lifting my gaze from Sam and seeing the controlled look on Gemini’s face. “She’s… not here. Anymore,” the god says, lips thinning. “I have to be somewhere. Rest well, Sam.” And he’s gone, swift and fast.
I turn back to Sam. “We don’t have to talk about this now,” I say. “Just rest, don’t talk, I’ll call Apollo-”
“No.” Sam’s voice is weak but unmistakably firm. “I was… her… her friend too, Kayla.”
I hesitate a moment, then the words tumble out. “I chose you. Over her, I mean. I only had one healing square, and you were both dying and I was running out of time, and I had to choose. I had to. I couldn’t save both of you, so I had to choose…” My words trail off and I find myself watching his face desperately, waiting for a reaction.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t look at me. I can see him trying to come to terms with what I have said, can see him struggling to find solid ground. I don’t want to see the condemnation in his eyes, so I turn and leave, and I don’t look back.
Picking my way through the throng of wounded, I reach the edge of the camp and set off at a run. I don’t know where I’m going, but my legs welcome the movement, and my heart sings out to the rushing air whereas it has always been stifled around the others. Derelict houses pass by. The broken windows look like empty, staring eyes.
I finally stop at one house, right at the very edge of town. Its walls, like the others, are made of a high tech plastic. Though so much time has passed, the walls are uneaten by nature and still smooth despite the elements. A layer of grime and dust coats it, but it is solid and reassuring. Leaning against it, I crouch down and try to regain my breathing.
My heart thumps brokenly in my chest. Zoey, Zoey, Zoey, Zoey. I wish, more than anything, that she was here.
My gaze wanders past the edge of the town, into the unknown. Nature is slowly taking over the roads, and the pathways are overgrown with grass. A gust of wind rustles the tall blades, scented of sweet flowers and dark earth.
I could leave. It would be so easy.
But I have to give Sam a chance to speak first. Maybe, just maybe, he could forgive me. Maybe he wouldn’t hate me so much if he understands why I did it. Even his selfless nature wouldn’t have been able to hold if he had been in my place, simply because you couldn’t sacrifice yourself. Whatever choice I made, I would have been selfish. I chose Sam, I am selfish. I chose Zoey, I am still selfish. I chose neither, I am selfish and cruel and stupid.
I saved one of them. I had to.
I stand up and breathe deep. Then I head back to the people.
The funeral is fast. No one speaks as the bodies are burned. Sam sits on an old chair a few meters away, too weak to stand. He watches the proceedings without a word, and his face remains blank as a slate. He doesn’t turn his gaze around, searching for me.
I don’t see Gemini around. But he could be watching from one of the windows.
The smell of charred meat is heavy in the air and I have to leave. I turn, intending to run off again, but then Sam turns his head around as if he knows I am leaving. My feet grinds to a halt, my pulse pauses. Everything hangs in that moment.
He mouths a few words: Meet me later.
I give a tight nod.
After the funeral, everyone disperses. Everywhere is a flurry of activity. People are already forgetting, choosing not to remember and to get on with life instead. It makes sense of course. Why would anyone want to remember death and pain?
I meet Sam at the infirmary. He asks for my help in standing up. He slings an arm around my neck and we hobble together to one of the houses in silence.
When we are there, safely alone, he looks at me. I feel a zap all the way down to my toes, but I keep my face neutral.
“You’re okay,” he says finally. The words are soft, but I can’t help but think of it as an accusation. His hand comes up to brush my cheek and against my will, I lean into his warm palm, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
“I didn’t mean to.” My voice cracks. “I didn’t want to choose but I had to.”
“I understand.” And I can hear it in his voice, he does understand. “I don’t want to see you hurting like that, Kayla. Please.” His eyes search my face. “Please be okay.”
Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around him and bury my head in the crook of his neck. He’s all skin and bones now, hard angles and edges, because of the lack of nutrition when he was unconscious. His arms come up to embrace me weakly, and I know, I am forgiven. One person has forgiven me. Maybe he will be the only one who ever does, but in that moment, I don’t care. Up till now, no one has forgiven me, not even myself. But he does. He understands.
“Glad to have you back, Kayla,” he whispers fiercely, as the first sobs tear through my body. “I love you.”
I can no longer count the number of sunrises I have seen on my fingers. I have seen far, far too many, and it will never be enough. There is a cliff, not far from the town, which overlooks the horizon. It is my favorite place to go with Sam. We sit there, among the grass and cedar trees, and watch the sun makes its progress across the sky. The sun is bright and hot and alive, just like the people in the town. The cloud of darkness is fading, and beneath it, the vibrancy of humanity is resurfacing.
The moon is the only thing that rivals the beauty of the sun. At night in hangs, huge, in the sky, glowing with silver light. Maybe it is because Apollo and Atermis are the only two gods left in the world.
And they have left. They made their farewells and disappeared, and I have no doubt we will never see them again, but it’s all right. They have done all they could, and we thank them. There is no need for them to stay anymore. I am certain they will become legends, even myths, and the people after us will not believe that there was a god and a goddess who were actually ever alive. They will become stories one day but for now, we know they are real.
Today I am sitting with Sam watching the sunrise again, watching as colors seep into the sky and the woods come alive.
Until there is a rustle of the bushes to our left.
A twig snaps.
Before we can even stand, a man has emerged into the woods. Fair hair sweeps into his eyes, and he watches, slightly amused, as we jump to our feet and draw our weapons.
“Easy, easy,” he says, laughing a rich, warm laugh. He holds up both hands and drops the knife he was carrying. “My name is Carlyle. I cannot express how lucky I am to meet you.” He has a faint accent I can’t identify.
He grins. “We found your camp. They said to find you here.” He peers at me, then at Sam. “You are the ones who saved the world?”
I exhale. “I suppose so. Who are you and why are you here?”
His grin, if possible, grows even wider. “I have my own band of people. They have already joined your town.” He holds out a hand in a gesture of friendship, and I shake it. He turns to Sam and they give each other a manly clap on the back.
“Welcome,” Sam says. “Welcome.” I can’t fight the smile that creeps onto my lips.
Humanity is patching itself back together again.