11: Michael

Michael

 

 

      The ocean sang its soft lullaby in perfect rhythm. The gentle roar of a wave as it curled, only to spread submissively against the dark sand and lightly recede in a lapping foam. Glittering diamonds as numerous and beautiful as the stars topped the crests of waves as they caught the noon sunlight. Soft sand was comfortably warm against his bare skin. Gulls circled overhead, calling to each other with happy guffaws.

          Michael sat up, squinting against the bright light to view the endless expanse of water that ran to the horizon to embrace the cloudless sky. The beach was deserted but for him and one other; no surfers paddled out, no pasty tourists pink with sunburn waded through the waves, no screaming children danced at the water's edge. It was as peaceful a solitude as he could ask for.

          He looked over to his right and saw on the towel beside him Sabrina was fast asleep. Gently he tried to rouse her, but she didn't stir. He smiled and stood, allowing his new friend to enjoy her slumber. White mounds of sand meshed between his toes as he walked without any worry to the surf. A few speckled mollusk shells dotted the strand closer to the water. Michael stooped to pick up a small conch that was as smooth as glass and bore markings similar to marble. He rolled it in has hand as he walked. The sand grew cooler underfoot, and his footprints filled with small pools. It wasn't long before blessedly chilled water enveloped his feet up to his ankles. He waded farther, allowing the foaming sea to consume him and his body. Up to his waist, the tide pulsed and pulled, beckoning for him to surrender then urging him to stay. Michael closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the sunlight, taking in a radiant warmth that had never felt so good. He could lose himself forever amongst the waves.

          "It's beautiful, isn't it?" a small voice said in an almost whisper from behind him. Michael turned around quickly, expecting to see Sabrina. It wasn't however; she remained fast asleep on the sand. Standing ankle deep was a little girl who couldn't have been more than nine or ten. A pure and radiant white dress hung from her shoulders, billowing below the waist. The wind kicked and tugged at the fabric and her dark hair. He looked at her, and large brown eyes looked back. She brushed back the rogue strands of hair that whipped her face. Michael looked around for any sign of an adult accompanying her, but there was none. She cocked a head playfully to the side.

          "What are you looking for?" she asked, her voice dreamy and carrying. Michael frowned and she giggled. "Are you afraid?"

        "No," he responded, eyes glancing around the deserted sands again. "Where are your parents? You shouldn't be out here alone."

          The little girl giggled again. "You're here, and your friend. That doesn't really make me alone, now does it?"

          "I guess not. Well are they around?"

          She lowered her gaze and shook her head, watching the ripples her movements made in the water. "Who are you?' she asked, looking up again.

          Michael sighed, but decided to play along. He was certain whoever her guardian was would be around soon and most likely relieved to find her. "Michael. What about you? What's your name?"

          "Eleanor, but I like Nora."

          "Okay, Nora, what are you doing here?"

          The young girl's eyes opened widely and she crossed her arms. "Like you have any reason to be asking me that. If anything I should be asking you that very question."

          "You're a fiery little girl, aren't you?"

          Her eyes narrowed.

          "Sorry, sorry," Michael said with a small laugh, throwing up his hands. "I definitely don't want to risk your wrath."

          "Wise boy," she replied, uncrossing her arms. "You still didn't answer my question."

          Michael rolled his eyes as she called him boy, but let it brush by. "I'm here with my friend Sabrina, just relaxing. Now what about you? Seriously, who are you supposed to be with?"

          Nora turned to look at Sabrina who lay on her side on a faded beach towel. A mischievous smile crossed her lips. She held her dress just above the ocean's reach with one hand and dipped the other hand in, pulling out a large conch that was full of water. Smirk still glued to her face, she walked cautiously over to Sabrina.

          "Nora? Nora, what are you doing?" Michael asked, taking a few clumsy steps forward. "Oh come on, don't do that!"

          She didn't listen. Standing over Sabrina, she giggled and tipped the shell to let cold seawater pour onto the sleeping girl's face. Sabrina jolted awake with a small scream of surprise. She turned, eyes wide, to the little girl holding an upturned shell standing beside her.

          Michael was trodding out from the water. Sabrina turned to him, speechless. He shrugged. "Sabrina, I see you've met Nora."

          Nora gave a small curtsey. "Hi," Sabrina managed weakly, then turned back to Michael. "Who is she?"

          "Hell if I know. She just kind of showed up and won't tell me who she's supposed to be with."

          "I'm not supposed to be with anyone," Nora replied defiantly. "I'm perfectly capable of watching out for myself."

          Sabrina gave a small scoff. "You're only like what, ten?" Nora scowled but the older girl ignored it. "Michael, we got to find this girl's parents or at least tell the police or something."

          "I already told you I don't have anyone looking for me! Do either of you listen?"

          "Yes," Michael replied flatly. "Yeah, Sabrina, let's just call the police and make sure there isn't an amber alert or something."

          "Ugh! You two are infuriating!" Nora shouted, throwing down her hands. She began stalking away towards the water.

          "Hey, Nora! What are you doing? Come back!" Michael called out, but the little girl ignored him. She waded out into the water, undeterred by the growing waves. "Ah s**t." Michael began running to get her when she vanished beneath the waves. "Nora!" he called out, but only a deep grumble from far beyond responded. Along the horizon the ocean began to swell. Water rolled closer, climbing upwards and curling. Within seconds a wall of water rose high enough to blot out the sun, covering the beach in an ominous darkness. The roar of the massive wave was as powerful as a freight train. Huge strains of foam fell as the seawater curled hundreds of feet above. Michael could do nothing but stare as at all came down upon him in a thunderous growl.

          Michael gasped deeply, his lungs taking in frigid air instead of the heavy salt water he had expected. He blinked several times before he could grasp what was real and what wasn't. Goosebumps had formed up and down his bare arms and legs. The fire had nearly exhausted itself, and only a few stubborn embers remained glowing in the hearth. Sabrina lay in front of him, her arms still clutching his which lay across her midsection. She was shivering. He pulled her in closer to provide more body heat. He began to feel a little calmer, but he could still feel more than hear his heartbeat drumming in his head. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had a dream wake him up like that.

          "You awake?" Sabrina asked quietly.

          "Yeah. Yeah, I'm up. Had an interesting dream."

          She pulled the fur rug tighter against her body. "Me too. What time is it?"

          Michael made to check his watch, then stopped. "It hardly matters, don't you think? My watch is set for eastern time, which I'm not sure applies here."

          "Oh. That's right, I'm stupid. Well is it at least daylight out? How can we check that?"

          Michael looked at the hearth and saw the pathetic wisps of smoke rising up the chimney. "I have an idea." He pulled the rug off from around him, struggling a bit while loosening it, and stooped next to the hearth. Slowly he craned his head upwards and stuck his head above the smoldering wood. A long shaft stretched up to the surface, but the small hole revealed a light blue sky. "Sun's out," he wheezed, grimacing as he inhaled smoke. The cold air bit at his exposed flesh. The muscles of his chest, shoulders, and left arm felt extremely tense and sore. A dull throbbing pounded near the socket. He tried to slowly stretch his shoulder out but as he moved it, his muscles screamed. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a guttural grunt.

          "Michael," Sabrina said quietly.

          "I'm fine," he snapped sharply. He saw she was taken aback and relented. "I'm fine," he said in a more controlled tone. "I think we should go get a look outside soon. See if there's anyone around." He pulled on his damp jeans as he talked. Sabrina shivered as she pulled her own shirt over her head. "Maybe it won't be so f*****g cold in the sun."

          "I'm not worried about that." She grabbed her pants from the stone and wiggled them on, her legs covered in goosebumps. Her fingers fumbled with the zipper and button, but once she had secured her pants on she pulled the rug back around her. "What about those...I don't know what they were. Those dog things. What if they're still out there?"

          Michael had only seen the dark creatures from a distance. They had slunk with heads low to the entrance of the tunnel that led to this underground haven. But they had fled at the first sign of light on the horizon. He wasn't sure what time of day it was, but as long as the sun was up he felt a little safer. Fully dressed, Michael grabbed one of the logs from the dying remnants of the fire with his healthy arm and held it against one of the larger ember clusters.

          Sabrina leaned forward and grabbed one of the tinder sheets she had left out and nudged the log away from the embers before they could be smothered. Delicately she held the corner to the glowing particles and a small flame faded into existence. She let the fire slither up a little farther before dropping the sheet amongst the ashes.

          "And I'm the boy scout?" Michael teased, placing the partially burnt log back into the growing flames.

          "I only just learned, trust me. I've never been camping or anything like that before. I've never needed to build a fire."

          "You've never been camping? Ever? What did you do with your childhood?"

          She laughed weakly. "I wasn't a typical girly-girl, but I certainly was no tomboy. Swinging was more my speed of an outdoor activity than roaming the woods or, I don't know, shooting stuff with bb guns. No, I loved to read and draw."

          "So you were a nerd?"

          "I was not a nerd!" she replied defensively. "I never said I was great at math or had my own microscope. I just liked reading stories. They could take you places that movies or TV never could, because these places were equal parts the author's imagination and your own. I loved it."

          Michael looked at her and smirked. "So you were a nerd?"        

          She let out a grunt of frustration. "Fine, jackass, I was a nerd. I got called a lot of stuff growing up. Nerd. Bookworm. Geek. Four eyes."

          Now Michael couldn't contain his laughter. "You had glasses, too?"

          "Yup, nerdy little Sabrina with her books and glasses. That was me up until middle school. Then I got b***s and a butt and suddenly the boys didn't want to be mean to me anymore. Funny how that works."

          "I wouldn't have pegged you for a nerd in all honesty. You certainly don't look like a bookworm anymore."

          "An astute observation from a knuckle-dragging Army brute. No, I'm not stupid and realized I could make my hair look good and wear cute clothes and bat my eyelashes yet still enjoy reading and art."

          The soldier sat next to the fire which had grown much larger and ran his right index finger along the sinewy skin that was grafted over his bullet wound. It felt stretched and thin. "Knuckle-dragging brute, huh? That's a new one. I'd say I'm slightly more intelligent than you give me credit for." He smiled. "Even just a little?"

          "We'll see," she replied. "So far the nerdy bookworm has started two fires and the tough Army man has started zero." Her tone shifted from playful to somber. "How's your arm?"

          Michael traced his finger across the entry hole. "I'm not sure. It's more numb and sore than anything. The cold isn't helping, either. I'd kill for a shirt." Sabrina began pulling hers up but he shook his head and stopped her. "No, I can't do that. Besides, it would hardly fit me and I'd never hear the end of it," he gave a small grin. "I'm just going to warm up by the fire here for a minute before I go see what's up top."

          The girl shuffled herself from the fur rug and hoisted it over Michael's shoulders. "Better than nothing," she insisted. He gripped the frayed edges and pulled it tighter.

          "Thanks."

          "Sure. So what do you think we'll find out there? I remember it just being really flat in every direction. It didn't seem like there was anything. Just barren ice."

          He couldn't find an answer he really believed. He had no idea what they might find out there, wherever "there" was. If they were alive, would they starve or freeze? If they were dead, could they die again? He just didn't know.

          "Sabrina, do you truly believe we are alive?" he asked quietly. "Alive in the sense of what it meant to us before."

          "Are you asking me if I think our hearts are still beating and we still need oxygen and food and water? Then yes. I believe we are very alive."

          He nodded, his eyes fixed on the flames. "Then the only thing I know for sure is that we have to leave to find food at the very least."

          "I'd rather get it over with sooner so we can come back here and get warm." She stood, hugging herself. Her breath came out in small clouds of mist. Michael slowly raised himself up and lifted his right arm, the heavy rug draping from it like a curtain.

          "It'll keep us warm while we walk," he explained. She didn't protest and allowed herself to be cloaked in the rug. She grabbed the ends and pulled it as far as it would go around her body. Resembling a grotesque Siamese bear, the two shuffled slowly down to the dark tunnel that led out. The first few steps in darkness were awkward and unbalanced. Michael and Sabrina each held an arm out to brace against any unseen walls. The ice underfoot gave way to small pockets of snow, and sunlight began to penetrate the ice as they climbed. The ceiling and walls around them became a glowing and shimmering teal that deepened to an abysmal blue beneath. It reminded Michael in a small way of the tunnel under the shark aquarium at Sea World, only if it were frozen. In the sun's absorbed light they could navigate easily and the path to the entrance wasn't nearly as long as he Michael had remembered it.

          They reached the steep slope that led to the broken ice above. The sliding trails they had each left on the snow coming down were still partially visible. Carefully they began to walk up, leaning forward to keep their balance. The snow provided enough traction to get them to the top without slipping. Michael reached up with his right arm and gripped the surface and hoisted himself up.

          His eyes were blasted with a searing light as he pulled himself from the ice, the rug falling from his shoulders. He held his hand up to shield against the blinding white light. Sabrina squinted so heavily her eyes appeared shut. Light wind blew small clouds of snow around their feet and the ice wept in the growing heat. The blinding glare eased away and the world around them slowly came into focus.

          Their surrounding wasn't nearly as flat as it had appeared during the night. To the south rose a steadily growing treeline and beyond were faded mountains that looked almost painted against the sky. They were massive and snow-capped, jagged peaks rising to challenge the clouds, and reminiscent of the Rockies in their majesty. Vast sheets of ice extended toward the north, but somewhere not-to-distant the roar of the sea could be heard, stirred by the restless winds.

          Michael took a few hesitant steps forward, oblivious to the frigid whips that licked at his naked torso. His shoes threatened to slip on the slickened ice, and he made each step careful and deliberate. Slowly his gaze shifted from the distant mountains up higher to the heavens. Though pale and faint in the sunlight, the massive planet still occupied a considerable amount of the sky. It had settled on the opposite horizon than the sun, setting to the west.

          "That's incredible," Sabrina breathed, her eyes full of wonder upon the celestial behemoth. "It truly makes you wonder where we are."

          It was more than that. It made him wonder about so much more. Not since childhood had Michael experienced such a pure curiosity about everything around him. Last night, with those beasts roaming, it had been terrifying, but here in the sunlight, it was beautiful. He turned to Sabrina and smiled when he saw her face which was fully absorbed with the same curious wonder he felt.

          "Sabrina?" he asked softly, trying to grab her attention from the ethereal sky. She gave an idle moan of acknowledgement but didn't shift her gaze. Michael glanced back up to admire it again, then back down.

          His heart dropped.

          "Sabrina!"

          But it was too late. Two figures had descended upon her and brought her to the ground. Michael made to intervene but his feet slid on the weeping ice and he slammed into the solid mass below. The ice and snow stung his skin and the hard fall rattled his bones. He placed his arms out to push himself up, lifted slightly, and let out an involuntary cry of pain as his left arm gave out. Pain exploded around his ruined scapula. His face pressed against the freezing and jagged ground, his skin red and tender. The air felt hard to breathe.

          Sabrina let out a muffled scream. Numb and feeling waves of pain, Michael rolled to his right side and attempted to prop himself up when a boot came down on his chest and forced him back to the ground. In the overhead light it was hard to make out many details of the attacker. Whoever it was wore thick boots lined in fur, heavy grey wool pants that rippled in the wind, and several layers of furred clothing around the torso. A heavy maroon scarf was wrapped around the head, masking the face except for a small slit for the eyes. For the briefest moment, Michael thought he saw something in those eyes before the sunlight blinded him once more.

           He thought he saw curiosity.

          Voices began communicating in a strange language and the assailants gestured to each other. Michael sat up a little, looking for Sabrina. She was sitting with her hands tied behind her back, a cloth gag in her mouth, and a blindfold folded tightly around her head. "What the f**k are you-"

          The boot pushed him back into the thin needles of jagged ice. Michael grunted as the wind left him. He struggled to inhale comfortably and only managed a few raspy breaths. A gloved hand grabbed the back of his head and forced it upwards. Seconds later his vision darkened as black cloth was positioned over his eyes. The pressure of the boot left his chest and he was lifted into to an upright sitting position. Hands grabbed firmly on his right forearm and forcefully thrust it behind his back. Quickly, he tried to move his left away but it was snared before he could. As his captors yanked his arm back Michael screamed in agony as healing muscle and tissue was violently ripped anew. As he cried out, a tasteless rag was shoved into his mouth.