Invisible Dawn Page 19

  The idea seemed logical, so he waited for Daniel to finish gathering the wood for their fire. Roger brought his final load and sat down across from them, yawning with the effort.

  “Don’t fall asleep on us yet, Roger,” said the weary soldier toting an armful of firewood. “We’re gonna try a few things, and I could use your help in case something goes wrong.”

  Roger gave a weak smile under drowsy eyelids. “Will do, Danny.”

  Daniel set the load next to Roger’s and threw some larger pieces onto the fire before settling down amongst the group. After they had huddled around the comforting campfire, Madelin briefed them on the test.

  Daniel agreed with Madelin’s idea for the first trial, but then asked, “Where should we try it?”

  They noticed that no trees or walls were near at hand. The pleasant clearing they discovered now posed an interesting problem unless they wished to move away from the fire and light.

  Roger pulled out his deck of cards and shuffled them from hand to hand. Every once in a while he glanced down to see which card he pulled before returning his attention to his newfound friends. He could not understand what they were talking about, but by this point he had given up trying.

  “Well what about the webbing of the building by Jedd’s shoulder?” inquired Daniel.

  Jedd started and glanced over his shoulder. Seeing nothing, he turned in place, searching for what Daniel had mentioned before the answer occurred to him.

  Madelin and Daniel stared at the spot in thought. With a shrug, she shuffled to Jedd’s other side. They adjusted themselves, and Madelin assessed the gold webbing from various angles.

  “We can try. I’ve never done it on thin air though,” she muttered thoughtfully. Running her hand along either side of the florescent line, she trained her focus. “It’s right here.”

  Daniel nodded without moving his eyes while Jedd tried once more to see the illusory line. His eyes dried out as he struggled to keep them open, afraid he might miss something essential.

  All were focused on Madelin’s hand as she ran her thumb along the thread. Subtle emotions of the linked plane flowed into her at a touch. Feelings of another rudimentary land sifted through her fingers. Intent on the thread, she summoned the dark rose to her with a silent call. After a few minutes, the air around the string rippled like the subtle disturbance of lake water. The waves flowed outward like a nodding current, dissipating the further they drifted. The edge of one petal materialized from the liquid air, followed by another. It was as though the flower were submerged in nothingness.

  Each man gasped as it grew forth in front of them. When free of the invisible surface, the petals glistened with ominous intent. Each sharpened edge oozed a familiar liquid. The golden hue of the dark substance made its way down the nearest petal, streaming along the exposed stem before dripping to the mossy ground below. Madelin thumbed the stem, found the glowing lifeline near the surface, and followed it to the linked petal above.

  “Ok, now watch this, guys.” Her voice was distant, but still held an edge of stifled excitement as she maintained her focus.

  She grasped the petal of choice and plucked it from the exposed flower. A small rip appeared along the stem and down through the air below. Lifting the edges apart, all four of them gazed through the golden haze overlaying the open window. Roger leaned forward, absorbed in the spectacle. He teetered over the fire, but caught himself at the last second.

  A calm lake appeared before them with a deer drinking at its shore. Madelin smiled as both men let out held breaths. Then she motioned as if to close the rip, but Jedd stopped her with a blackened hand. Their eyes met.

  “Let me do this. That way you can see what happens each time.”

  Jedd held up his arm for all to see and in silent acknowledgement they both edged away. He stepped up and grasped the edge in his discolored hand. His teeth clenched as pain coursed through his arm and found healthy cells to inflame at his elbow and shoulder.

  At least the pain’s dulled, he thought. I’m not sure how much I could take otherwise.

  The icy black taint spread through his skin and encompassed his elbow. Then he pressed each edge together like modeling clay. A thick scar sealed the rip as the world began repairing itself. Letting go, he exhaled as the pain eased from his limb. He expected the nausea to come, but this time it did not.

  Daniel reached over and lifted Jedd’s sleeve. He and Madelin watched as the darkened skin flushed the poison out like the sloshing of a dark bottled drink. It stopped before traveling far, leaving the entire arm dark as night. His shoulder was all that remained free of the taint. They both slid weary hands over his skin, but Jedd did not notice. He stood in place, breathing deep after the exertion.

  “Can you feel this?” asked Daniel, his hand circling the deadened arm.

  Jedd shook his head, unable to speak quite yet.

  “How about this?” the old mercenary asked, clenching down. He half expected the arm to collapse in his hands, but it held firm.

  After taking in a long breath, Jedd responded, “Maybe. I can tell you’re touching it, but not much more than that.”

  “Was the pain as bad as before?” came the gamblers inquiring voice.

  “Nope. It hurt, but not like before. Wasn’t even any nausea.”

  “Well hell, that’s a mite better. You think maybe this is part of the process? Your arm should have fallen off by now.”

  “Yeah, maybe. I’m still not sure.” Jedd met Roger’s gaze, and although his voice did not hold the concern he felt, his eyes did. It was a comfort for Jedd.

  Daniel flipped open a large pocket knife with his free hand. “I’m gonna try something. Just trust me.”

  Jedd glanced at the knife with an uneasy nod and watched as Daniel slid the razor-sharp blade across his deadened forearm. The skin sunk away from the pressure, but refused to part. Both men watch the severed hairs fall from his arm, but the skin revealed nothing.

  “Did you feel anything?” asked Daniel.

  “Just the pressure, but it didn’t hurt at all.” Jedd watched the skin, expecting a delayed response, but it had failed to pierce the top layer.

  “Want me to try again?”

  Jedd nodded and Daniel plunging it into his arm, but the skin proved resilient. Daniel put his weight behind the knife, but still Jedd’s skin stood solid. Daniel gave up, secured the blade, and slipped it back in his pocket.

  “That’s incredible. That would have skewered any man to the hilt. Can you still move it all right?” asked Daniel.

  “Yeah, not a problem. I just can’t feel the skin.”

  Morbid curiosity got the best of Madelin and she exclaimed, “Stick it in the fire!”

  Jedd repeated the question in a look to Daniel, then shrugged and reached into the fire. He felt nothing and inched closer, half expecting his fingers to burst into flames. The hair along his arm sizzled in the heat and permeated the air with its smell, but when the flames at the center of the campfire failed to stir his pain center, Jedd retreated. The heat had grown the closer he came to the flames and his shirt was singed, but he was able to move the hairless arm like normal. The skin was still cool to the touch, as though nothing had happened.

  Roger sat in awe, his jaw threatening to fall to the floor. The deck of playing cards fell from his grasp. Realizing the peril of his constant companions, Roger gathered the cards and batted the small flames attempting to ignite their worn edges. He pooled them together and deposited them in a jacket pocket before returning his gaze to the miracle in front of him. The flurry of movement caught the group’s attention, but only for a moment. Daniel patted Jedd on the back with a congratulatory smile.

  “That’s wonderful!” Madelin commented, masking her uneasiness with feigned excitement.

  Daniel sent an envied look Jedd’s way, however he said nothing; just peered back at the scarred opening with longing.

  “I wonder how our abilities can differ so much, while the auras are so similar,” Jedd thou
ght aloud.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe mine will be like yours,” Daniel proposed.

  “One way to find out,” Madelin chimed in. “Can you see the scar I left?”

  “Yeah,” replied the soldier, looking back at it again.

  “Ok, you need to focus on it.”

  Daniel followed her instructions, and stepped up to the freestanding scar.

  “Search for your own doorway.”

  The directions were vague, but Daniel complied, working his way down the scar and sifting through the underlying luminescent webbing.

  “Clear your mind, and focus everything you have on searching for it,” she continued.

  Daniel attempted to focus, but the instant he did, voices echoed through his thoughts. The muttered pleas of a middle-eastern woman filtered through his solemn control.

  “Help us … help us please,” came her thick, accented prayer. Her words crept up from the depths of his memories.

  Daniel tried to shut her out, but no door would keep away the innocent woman’s haunting memory. Her sudden scream shocked his system, even as he remembered slamming his rifle butt into her face. The flash of memory sent a shudder to his very core. Soon, her pain filled cry faded away, to be replaced by those of her children pleading for her life.

  “Spare her … leave us … go away!” they cried as their tears flowed.

  The impassioned voices were tinny with youth as they haunted his thoughts, disrupting any semblance of focus he might have attained.

  Daniel’s hands faltered and quaked as he strained through the memories. He tried to push his cursed actions aside, but the accusing eyes refused to leave him. They stood framed in small, sun darkened faces. Remorse consumed him before he could attempt anything more.

  Tears raced Daniel to the ground as he sunk to his knees. His body shook with gut wrenching sobs and each vocal inhalation sounded as though it were emanating from a gaping cavern. His wind-filled screams alarmed the others, but he could not bring himself to stop. The horrifying experience rocked him to the very foundation. Everything he had bottled up spilled out that very moment; memories, torturous dreams, the haunting eyes of each person he had massacred.

  Jedd looked back at Father Leodenin. He was pacing, but stopped as the guttural cries echoed through the forest. Birds, sensing the horrific scene, scattered to the winds. As much as they could tell, Daniel had not been harmed, but his reaction said different. Jedd and Roger stood staring, unable to do anything, while Madelin wrapped her arms around the grown man, cradling him for support. He was ignorant of her attempts at consolation and pounded the ground with his fists. Time eked by. It was awkward watching the unstoppable soldier, brought down by something they could neither see nor comprehend.

  Madelin whispered into his ear as he lay curled in her arms. “Daniel, hey Danny. It’s okay.”

  Through his terror filled visions, he heard her murmured words, but dismissed them outright. “No, it won’t,” echoed his muffled voice between sobs. “Not after what I’ve done.”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” Madelin prompted.

  “Oh … you have no idea.” Daniel’s voice cracked with a hint of sardonic laughter. An inhuman smile slid on to his face, but failed to mask the pain stirring within his soul.

  As Daniel looked upon his friends, he wondered how they could stand the sight of him. “Like I told you before, Maddy, there’s a lot you don’t know about me. And a heck of a lot that I’ve got to atone for.”

  “But you’ve changed, Daniel. I know it. You wouldn’t hurt us.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t?” he patronized, the smile hiding his sanity. “What if the money was right?”

  Roger stood up, unable to remain silent any longer. “Danny, shut the hell up!”

  The words shocked the leathered man out of his belittling glare and he turned his attention to Roger. “Boy, don’t you dare say that crap to me if you want to live.”

  Daniel leapt up and closed the distance between them, stepping on glowing coals without a care. He never broke his gaze. The ex-mercenary tried to fix his fingers around Roger’s throat, but the sailor’s own training kicked in. Roger knocked his hand away and laced nimble fingers around Daniel’s esophagus. Slipping a leg behind him, the Cajun swept Daniel to the ground with a thud and planted his knee on the soldier’s chest.

  Roger met Daniel’s infuriated gaze with clenched teeth and a deadly calm composure. “I know what you’ve been through and what you’ve done. But none of these people’ve done a damn thing other than be your friend.” His accent thickened in his subtle fury. “So how about this? You need to get hold of yourself before you say something that we’ll both regret. You, because you might drive away the only damn friends you’ve got, and me because I’ll have to do something about it.”

  Roger’s clenched hand rested on Daniel’s jugular, forcing the mask of insanity to clear. The rage passed like shadowed clouds passing overhead. The gambler lifted himself from Daniel’s body, returned to the campfire, and began shuffling his deck as though oblivious to the world.

  Daniel got to his feet, but winced at the sharp pain in his side. His adrenaline had drowned the feeling seconds before, but he was now reminded of his condition and the lengths Roger had gone to. He took a few breaths and collected himself before walking into a nearby shelter of trees. As he passed Roger, he whispered, “You’re lucky I wasn’t myself.”

  “I know,” answered Roger, but his attention remained on the cards he had fanned out.

  Jedd and Madelin stood staring. Madelin made to follow Daniel, but Roger again spoke up. “I wouldn’t.” The flames illuminated his face like a demon as his words drifted through the night.

  Madelin stopped and turned to the gambler. “But why? What the hell was that about?”

  “There are some things about Daniel you don’t want to know,” he answered, his gaze never leaving his cards.

  Madelin waited for more, but that was all he would say. “Should we be concerned?”

  “Nah, he’ll find his way. Just give him time.”

  “Well, what the heck caused it?” she asked in exasperation.

  “Something he did put him in touch with his past. The memories must have taken the chance to attack. Just remember that there might come a time when I ain’t around and you two will have to save him from himself.”

  “Jesus, Roj, I can try but I’m not sure I could even handle that big brute.” Jedd’s words were distraught.

  We could leave him here, he contemplated. We could just make for those lights without him. But seeing the concern on Madelin’s face, he knew it was futile to even consider.

  “Then let’s hope he gets it under control before that comes to pass. Why don’t y’all get some shuteye and I’ll stand watch in case any of those landlubbers decide to try and pull a fast one.” The brief excitement left Roger wide awake.

  Madelin tried to contradict him, but the effort was in vain. The gambler interrupted. “I don’t think he’ll come back tonight. Leave him be.”

  “Okay,” replied Jedd, “but wake me up in three or four hours and I’ll take over so you can get some sleep.”

  Roger nodded. Taking his advice, they both settled down for the night, drifting out of consciousness to the encore of the dancing flames.

  Roger sat in thought as he listened to the wildlife’s night calls. The breathing of his companions settled into a deep rhythmic pattern. After the brief cacophony of excitement, Roger’s heart found its own measured beat. The cards had collected a coat of dirt and ash. He swept the grime away with his free hand and his eyes settled on one card, more damaged than the others. A gallant Jack stood on the plastic coated paper, his eyes covered in ash. Roger ran his thumb over the mottled spots, but just succeeded in smudging the melted plastic. He wiped it clean, but what remained of the Jack’s hollow eyes stared back with the impossible knowledge of fate and eternity. It was as though the Jack itself were staring into his soul, telling him something indecipherable. He di
smissed the paranoia with a shake of his head and shuffled the cards back together. His eyes cast out for Daniel, but he was nowhere in sight. Roger silently complimented the man on his ability to vanish.

  The time sped by as Roger played out entire games of Texas Hold’em in his head, laying out the hands on the ground. When his watch beeped, alerting him of the hour, the gambler picked up a small stone and tossed it at Jedd. His aim was perfect and the stone bounced off of the man’s forehead. Jedd’s eyes shot open to find Roger teetering with laughter.

  “Your turn, bud,” the gambler muttered with a grin.

  Jedd rose from the spongy ground with a glare. “I figured as much when you smacked me.”

  “Who, me?” Roger said, feigning ignorance.

  Jedd strode over and seated himself next to the solitary man as he laid out another hand. “So, who’s winning?”

  “Very funny. Always me, ain’t it?” Roger replied with modest arrogance.

  Switching to a more serious subject, Jedd asked, “So, what happened earlier?”

  “Just what I told you. It wouldn’t be right for me to say nothing more than that. Danny’ll tell you guys when he feels better. Don’t worry.”

  That isn’t reassuring, thought Jedd, considering how close Madelin is to the old brute. But what can I do? He left the matter for later, respecting his friend’s wishes.

  “What’s next?” asked Roger as he lay down a less than desirable hand.

  Jedd took a moment to calculate. “Well, at our current rate, we should reach those odd people this evening.”

  “And what do we know about them?”

  “Not much. I suspect they’re the same people we saw before.”

  “Do we even know if they’re friendly?”

  “No,” Jedd replied, “so be ready.”

  “Did you see what that one did to Leodenin’s men? And that was just one of them. How the hell am I supposed to be ready for that?”

  Jedd smiled and gave him the most sensible answer he could think of. “Pull the trigger quicker.”

  “Ack,” cried the gambler, dismissing him with the wave of a hand. He collected his cards and lay down where Jedd had vacated. “I’m going to make use of your nicely weathered spot here.”