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  After a few more seconds, the object’s shape became clearer—a balding head with its hair remnants waving like grass in a breeze. Lauren stepped to the edge of the pool, now clear of muck. A corpse? It couldn’t be Sir Barlow. He had more hair. Since skin still covered the scalp, this man couldn’t have been there long, probably a recent victim of the poison. Either way, she couldn’t leave the poor man in the pond.

  She set the sword down and stepped into the water. Cringing, she slid her hands under the corpse’s arms and walked backwards with him in tow. As the lean body rose above the surface, more details appeared. A wooden device lay over his shoulders, longer on one side of his neck than on the other. He wore a button-down shirt, jeans, and a belt with some kind of attached device, maybe a mobile phone.

  When his bare feet dragged past the edge, she laid him down and knelt at his side. She used a wet sleeve to swipe some remnant sludge from his gray forehead and cheeks, revealing the familiar face of Gaston Hunt, her foster father.

  Lauren blinked. She whispered, “Dad?” through her tightening throat. She wheezed shallow breaths. Who could have done this to him?

  She studied the wooden device. It looked like a cattle yoke. One indentation rested over his neck, and another to his right was empty. An oxbow wrapped around his throat, fastened on the upper side of the yoke by a bolt. She grasped the oxbow and tried to force his head back through the opening, but it wouldn’t fit. Using her fingers, she twisted the fastening bolt. It turned easily, a surprise considering the wet conditions.

  When she pulled the yoke off and laid it at the pond’s edge, the mental picture of his suspended body returned. Why was he upright underwater instead of horizontal on top or at the bottom? The yoke probably floated, so that acted to pull him upward, but what held him down?

  She looked at his feet. A thin chain tied around his ankle led to the pond, the far end hidden below the surface. She grasped it and reeled it in. A pair of glasses dragged to shore. She picked them up and looked at the frames. A tiny screen extended in front of the right lens, a miniature computer monitor. He often wore these glasses to keep up with work-related projects after hours. He even wore them to the volleyball game, the last time …

  She choked as she finished the thought out loud. “The last time I saw him alive.”

  After crying for a moment, she drew the glasses closer to her eyes. How could something so small weigh him down? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. Didn’t he die in a house explosion? Shouldn’t his body be torn to pieces or at least burned?

  Her gaze drifted across the phone clipped to his belt. Maybe it held a clue. After laying the glasses on his motionless chest, she unfastened the phone and looked at the screen—wet and blank. She pushed the power button. The screen flashed. It worked! Another surprise.

  While she waited for it to come on, a chorus of caws sounded from the forest. Dozens of ravens lifted from the trees and flew in a circle overhead, nearly invisible against the darkening sky. They probably wanted to get an easy meal as soon as she left him behind. Her back scales tingled. Might they attack? She eyed the sword where it lay a few paces away, then the yoke, which sat within reach. Either would be a suitable weapon should the ravens decide to get bold.

  The phone sizzled, and sparks flew from the edges. She dropped it to the ground. Flames sprouted, and the frame melted within seconds. She sighed. So much for checking the phone for clues. Once again she had affected electronics in a damaging way.

  She looked once more at the glasses. Might the computer screen hold answers to the mysteries? Maybe. But if she put them on, she might destroy them as well.

  A raven landed a few feet away, followed by several others. As they formed a surrounding circle, they cawed and hopped closer, apparently testing their boundaries.

  Lauren picked up the yoke and brandished it with both hands. “Don’t you dare!” she growled.

  As if emboldened by her challenge, the ravens closed the gap, swarmed over her foster father, and pecked at his flesh. Still on her knees, she swung the yoke and smashed the closest black bird. It squawked. Feathers flew. The yoke flashed blue and provided light for her counterattack.

  With a backswing, she smacked another raven. The yoke’s strobing light brightened. As more ravens flew down and joined the feasting, she rose to her feet and waded into the flock, her heart thumping. With every swing of the yoke, she crushed another raven and sent its limp body sailing away. The yoke grew brighter and brighter and warmed in her grasp.

  She knocked away bird number nine, then number ten, but more and more joined in and covered the corpse. Her muscles ached, but she couldn’t stop and let them strip his bones. He couldn’t be just another skeleton among the dead masses.

  After she had driven at least a dozen more ravens away, they scattered and flew toward the forest. Besides the glasses, only bones remained. She slumped to her knees. She had failed.

  Night had fallen, leaving the yoke as the only light—now a steady blue glow. As she picked up the glasses, she wept. “I … I’m sorry. I tried to … to chase them away. But there were … too many.”

  Voices returned, chanting words, eerie and elongated.

  I daily die,

  Alone and lost;

  I lived a lie;

  I pay the cost.

  Inhale the fires;

  Exhale despair.

  Each day expires

  Without a prayer.

  Lauren shuddered. She lifted the yoke and cast its glow, but it reached only a few feet into the darkness. The voices uttered the same words she had heard while in Hades. Had that realm somehow merged with this one? Did it mean the owners of the scattered bones had gone to that horrid place? How about her foster father? Did he go there as well?

  New sounds entered her hypersensitive ears—her clothes rubbing against her skin, her own breathing, and … a heartbeat?

  She laid a palm on her chest. Her heart was beating! And wasn’t it beating hard while she battled the ravens? What could have caused it? Drinking the water? If so, did that signify one step closer to resurrection? Or had she already resurrected?

  Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes. This had to be the first puzzle piece. Water. Clean water that flowed into a poisoned pool, now cleansed by redirecting the flow of the poison. And the water restored her, at least partway, but what else could it do? “God,” she whispered, “please help me think.”

  She opened her eyes and listened. Her scales tingled, and the static in the air returned. This time, however, it morphed into a voice that grew clearer every second.

  “Lauren Bannister, I will keep talking in hopes that you can hear me. This is Sir Winston Barlow. I don’t know where I am, but I can tell you that it is a nightmarish place. I don’t suggest that you try to follow, because the pond sent me plummeting into an underground spout of sorts, and I nearly drowned. Since I can see Jade’s sanctum through a portal, I assume you can come here if you retrace your steps to the sanctum and enter through one of the remaining portals. I would come to you, but I lack the protective cloak. When I tried to leap through the portal, the shock sent me flying backwards into … well, I suppose you should see it for yourself. Describing it would be rather difficult. In any case, I will wait for you here. I assume you will eventually give up looking for me in the other world.” He heaved a long sigh. “Lauren Bannister, I will keep talking in hopes …”

  Lauren slid the glasses into a shirt pocket and rose to her feet. Sir Barlow was alive. She had to find him. Besides, there was nothing left to do here in this gateway to the underworld.

  Holding the glowing yoke in front, she picked up the sword, slid it behind the cloak tied at her waist, and hurried to the forest. After navigating the path, she emerged in the open area where they first arrived. She spotted Sir Barlow’s marker and the sword’s long trench. Following it, she hurried toward the portal, still listening to his speech.

  As the rectangular door leading to the pulsing
column took shape in the distance, his voice spiked. “Lauren! Wait! Don’t come here yet. I see a—”

  She halted. A clicking sound rattled in her ears. “Who are you?” Sir Barlow said, his voice agitated. “Get back, fiend!” A series of grunts followed, then a growl, then silence.

  “Sir Barlow?” Lauren cupped her ears and faced the portal. Still no sound. She sprinted the rest of the way. When she arrived, she dropped to her knees and looked through the window. The column stood as before, still sending out beams, but nothing moved in the chamber.

  She withdrew the sword and laid it down, then untied the cloak and threw it over her shoulders. With the sword and yoke in hand, she scrambled through the opening and hustled to the next portal. A red wash prevented a view of the other side. She listened for Sir Barlow’s voice. Nothing. Not even static.

  Still covered by the wet cloak, she ran to the next portal. Again, no sounds emanated, and another red veil blocked the view. She looked at the central column. Now only three beams emanated—one white and two red. The beam that pointed at the world with the strange pond had vanished.

  The remaining white beam continued painting an opening leading to the tree of life, an escape route that seemed more attractive than ever, but taking it now would be cowardly.

  A low growl trickled in from the first unvisited portal. She hurried back and set her ear close to the window. Silence ensued once again. Could the sound have come from the creature that attacked Sir Barlow? Or might Sir Barlow be groaning in pain?

  She eyed the bottom of the portal—about three feet from the floor. After sliding the sword behind her belt, she backed up a few steps and tucked the yoke under her arm. Holding the cloak in place, she ran toward the window and jumped.

  A jolt rattled her body. The portal bent and threw her back. She fell to the floor, rolled out of the cloak, and stopped at the sanctum’s column.

  Her skin tingling all over, she climbed slowly to her feet and staggered into the path of the laser beam. She looked at the portal and blinked to clear her vision. Between the portal and her body, the beam was now white. She swiveled her head. Between her body and the column, the beam was still red.

  She looked down at the point where the beam intersected with her body. It struck the yoke, still tucked under her arm and glowing blue.

  She stepped out of the way. The beam turned all red. After shaking her arms and legs to cast off the tingling sensation, she raised the yoke, now warm to the touch, into the beam’s path. The section between the yoke and the portal turned white again. Did the white beam signal that the portal was open, that the beam had to pass through the yoke?

  Her arms trembling, she picked up the cloak and draped it over herself, then set the yoke on her cloaked shoulders and slid her neck into one of the two indentations. After shifting to make sure the beam hit the yoke, she looked at the portal. The beam, now white again, struck the window and created an alabaster rectangle.

  She walked to the portal, careful to keep the yoke in line with the beam. When she reached the opening, she leaped through.

  CHAPTER 7

  FLIGHT

  Bonnie snatched Excalibur from Marilyn, summoned its beam, and sliced it through the officer’s head. A splash of sparks spewed from the hazmat suit’s neck hole. His rifle dropped with a clatter, and his uniform collapsed in a yellow heap.

  Marilyn sprinted toward him, shouting, “I’ll be back!”

  Shelly lay sprawled on top of Mark. Only his arm lay in view in a pool of blood. Crouching, Catherine held Shelly’s wrist and cried out, “They’re dead! Oh, dear God, they’re both dead!”

  Carl reached from the wheelchair and rubbed Catherine’s back. His face knotting in grief, he sobbed with heavy spasms.

  Adam burst out of the Bannister house lugging a large briefcase with an embedded monitor. In his other arm, he carried Jared’s pot. “I heard shots! What happened?”

  “The Enforcer murdered Shelly and Mark.” Bonnie slid Excalibur behind her belt. As sobs threatened to burst forth, she sucked in a breath and held it. Her song had faded to a mere whisper. Was anyone listening anymore? How could someone slaughter a mother and child in cold blood?

  Mardon emerged from the house, his smile strangely proud. When he saw the carnage, he folded his hands at his waist and took on a sorrowful expression.

  Seconds later, Marilyn returned clutching the officer’s rifle in a tight fist. Redness streaked her watery eyes. “We might need this.” A shaky growl ran through her voice. “In case more Enforcers come.”

  Bonnie rubbed Marilyn’s shoulder. “We’d better get out of here before that happens.”

  Marilyn stooped and touched Shelly’s motionless hand. “First we have to do something with their bodies.”

  “No time for that!” Adam pointed toward the sky. “More drones!”

  Bonnie looked up. At least thirty of the beasts flew in a swirl. More streamed in as if they were gathering in formation about two hundred feet above. She gripped the wheelchair’s handles and pushed. “I’ll take Carl! Everyone run!”

  Carl grabbed the wheels, stopping the chair. “What about Shelly and Mark? Those drones might … might …” His voice broke off in a sob.

  “We can’t carry them!” Bonnie imagined the drones landing on the corpses and feasting on the flesh. Yes, Shelly and Mark were dead, but how could she let those beasts desecrate their bodies?

  She whipped out Excalibur and again called for the beam. When it sliced into the sky, the drones dodged the light. “Carl. Catherine.” Bonnie took in a deep breath to settle her fractured voice. “Here are our options. Number one—stay here and fight using Excalibur, though the Enforcers are bound to send more armed officers soon. Number two—transluminate Shelly and Mark so the drones can’t violate their bodies. Then we run while I protect us with Excalibur.” She inhaled again. “They’re your family. Just say the word, and I’ll go with what you decide. But we have to hurry.”

  Carl looked at the bodies, then at the drones, then at Catherine. “We don’t have a candlestone to capture their light.”

  Catherine slid her hand into Carl’s. “God will capture their light.” Her lips firm, she gave Bonnie a nod. “Transluminate them.”

  “I’ll cover you,” Marilyn said as she aimed the rifle skyward. “It looks like the last of them are gathering. They might attack at any second.”

  Bonnie wrapped both hands around Excalibur’s hilt and brushed the beam gently across Shelly and Mark. As the radiance spread, the bodies vanished, replaced by dancing sparkles that dispersed and disappeared.

  Carl covered his mouth. Tears spilled from Catherine’s eyes. Both appeared to be stifling new sobs.

  “Now hurry!” Bonnie spread her wings and grabbed the wheelchair again. “Carl and I will stay at the rear in case they attack.”

  Adam set the briefcase on Carl’s lap. “I hope you don’t mind carrying Larry’s brain unit.”

  “Sure.” Carl set his hands on the case. “I’m ready.”

  Now carrying only Jared’s pot, Adam took off in a rapid trot. Marilyn ran behind him, Catherine at her heels. Beating her wings, Bonnie lifted off the road and pushed the wheelchair. Above, the swirling drones drew nearer, looking like a black cyclone drifting lower and lower. They seemed to be waiting for something, as if they were being told what to do from a remote location.

  Bonnie caught up with the others and pushed the chair alongside Marilyn. “Billy’s just around that curve ahead. At this rate, we might get to the jet before the drones do.”

  Soon, the intersection with the highway came into view. A Learjet sat in the Shell station’s empty parking lot. Billy stood a few steps away, his stare fixed on the sky.

  “Billy!” Bonnie beat her wings and drove the wheelchair past the others. “Drones are coming!”

  “I saw them!” When she arrived, Billy reached out and grabbed the wheelchair, stopping it. He helped Mr. Foley stand. “The engine’s running! Let’s g
o!”

  Bonnie raised Excalibur. “I’ll stand guard while you get everyone inside.”

  “Sounds good.” After he helped Carl climb the stairs, he folded the wheelchair and slid it into the jet along with the potted plant, a suitcase, and a purse.

  When Marilyn arrived, she hugged Billy with one arm while holding the rifle with the other. “I’m so glad to see you!”

  “You, too, Mom.” He gently pushed her away and grasped the rifle. “All right if I take it from here?”

  “Gladly.” She and Catherine hurried up the airstair.

  Adam followed, Mardon close behind. “Sorry about the extra passenger,” Adam said as he passed Billy. “Long story.”

  Billy rolled his eyes. “I can hardly wait.”

  After Adam and Mardon boarded, Bonnie folded her wings and scooted in. By the time she had settled into the copilot’s seat with Excalibur in her lap, Billy was already climbing into the pilot’s chair. He set the rifle on the floor between them. “Is everyone buckled?” he called. “We might run into some rough air.”

  “What about Carly?” Adam asked from the front passenger seat. “She’s supposed to be on her way. We got a video message from Lois.”

  Billy looked out the side window. “The drones are closing in. We can’t wait much longer.”

  “She’ll be drone bait.” Adam set the briefcase on his lap and flipped a switch. “Larry! Send another emergency beacon to Lois! Immediately!” He tossed a piece of metal to Bonnie and another to Marilyn. “Lapel clips. Built in microphone and speaker. Put it on your collar. Larry’s mobile brain unit doesn’t have speakers.”

  Bonnie fastened the clip to her collar. Larry’s voice came through as if broadcast from far away. “I am receiving a video message from Lois that I am decrypting. I will play it in approximately three seconds.”

  Adam turned the case so everyone could see the screen. When the video started, Carly’s strained face appeared. The image jostled as if she were limping at a hurried pace. “We ran out of gas. I’m carrying Lois, and I’m following the main highway, about five miles from your house.” Her brow furrowed, now marred by a pair of new lesions. “I think I’m on the main highway. The only light I have is on Lois’s brain unit, and she’s pointing it at me so I’ll show up on the video. I charged her battery in the Jeep’s lighter, but I’m not sure how much juice she has. Right now I probably have more glow juice than she does. Maybe we should’ve equipped her with a radiation sensor. I might be getting cooked out here. Anyway, I’ll see you soon … if I don’t collapse first.”