Gray Skies (13 page)

Faint sounds of the boys’ feet trudging down the stairs stirred her awake. The taste of blood riddled the back of her throat, and she tried to get up and vomit, but she couldn’t move. She blinked away something warm that was running into her eye, stinging it as it ran down her face, and dripped into her ear. Harold’s piggy face came into view, and when she tried to speak, she only coughed up blood that splattered across his skin. She watched him swipe a guilty hand at his face, turning his fingers over to look at the blood. Richie and Peter pawed at his shoulders, exclaiming that it was an accident, and that they had to go. The theater went dark again.

Sammi heaved a throaty breath, and blinked past the blood stinging her eyes. Soft fur rubbed under her fingers, and she heard the purr and quiet mewl of one of her cats as it searched for a treat. Sammi nudged her head and wanted to smile, but was stuck somewhere between life and death. She moved her hand to pet the feral cat, and to invite some of the cat’s affections as she sided closer to dying. The warm taste of blood filled the back of her throat again, and she turned her head, and vomited. She was vaguely aware of the warmth growing below her waist, but didn’t know if it was blood, or if her bladder had let go.

That was when her vision cleared, and she saw the metal remains of a seat post protruding from her belly. But it couldn’t be the one she’d defended herself with. She gasped when she came to understand the horror of what had happened to her. Clenching her teeth, frightened, and fighting the deluge of pain that was suffocating her mind, she realized that she was stuck; she’d landed on one of the metal seat posts that sprouted from the theater floor. More blood came then, and she turned to cough it out. Her coverall pants were growing cold, and she shivered as bumps crawled up and down her arms.

The feral cat came closer to her face, and laid his body alongside hers. Sammi welcomed the warmth. While she couldn’t move, her body trembled, and shook uncontrollably. A single paw gently grazed her chin, and she looked into the comforting pair of green eyes that she’d come to love. She was dying, and regrets began to flood her mind, as the blood poured from the wound in her side.

The cat flinched, and then hissed, baring its teeth, and laying its ears flat. Sammi heard the rapid patter of feet along the floor. She wheezed out a heavy breath, fearing that Harold had come back for her. But when she heard Declan’s voice, and saw his eyes, her heart filled with the pain and remorse of knowing that he was going to see her die. She struggled with this thought, and wanted him to leave. She couldn’t bear knowing that his last memory with her was going to be her grisly death. The awfulness of that thought erupted inside of her, and she wanted to cry out to him. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him to leave—she tried, but she couldn’t say anything as he rushed to her side, and dropped to his knees.

The feral cat stayed with them, approving of Declan’s presence. When the pain in her side began to ease, and the blood in her mouth thinned, she knew that her time was short.

It doesn’t hurt as much anymore
, she thought, and felt the fluttery yawn of butterfly wings, as she considered what awaited her in death. She reached for the lock of hair, pulling the pin from the front of her coveralls, and thrust it into Declan’s hand.

“I choose you,” she told him, using of all her strength, and pushing her words beyond the struggle to live. “Declan, I choose you.”

Tears streamed down his face as he held her hand. He fixed his eyes on hers, nodding, and then told her, “I accept you as chosen, Sammi… I always have.”

******

Declan couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t speak. He saw the splintered wood of the balcony railing, and found Sammi on the theater’s floor, but struggled to comprehend what had happened. He dropped to his knees, taken aback by the rawness of what lay in front of him. The image of Sammi’s broken body wavered in his watery eyes, while he fought to understand how this could be. When he found his voice, he answered her, in words that sounded out in tortured sobs. He told her he’d be her chosen. He told her that he’d always been her chosen. As his heart ached, and the situation became dire, he reached to hold her hand, embracing the lock of hair that she’d offered him.

Emotions choked his words, and he wove his fingers around hers, locking them together, and tried to soothe her pain. He brushed the blood away from her face, only to see more of it hemorrhage from the corner of her eye. His eyes darted quickly from her toes to her chest, and up to her neck, assessing all that was wrong. Gulping at the air, he had to stop when the count of everything appearing to be broken overwhelmed him. One of her legs was turned outward in a way that was unnatural; her left arm was pinned beneath her body, and she seemed unaware that she couldn’t move it. But, what completely decimated his hopes of seeing her survive the fall was the metal shaft that protruded from her belly. Blood, bright red, and pooling under her, pulsed through her coveralls, and around the metal, and spread across the theater floor. With the noticeable smell biting the salty air, he knew Sammi had lost too much blood.

He carefully crept around the metal rod, trying to find a way to lift Sammi, and free her. The cat lying alongside her clawed at his hands, as if to warn him that he needed to be careful. Sammi’s screams turned to faint moans, and she groaned whenever he touched the injury. Each of her harrowed objections killed him a little inside, while he tried desperately to not cause her any more pain.

“I don’t know what to do,” he finally cried to her, caressing her face. Her breathing grew shallow, and then seemed to stop for a moment, before she coughed more blood from her lips. Declan saw how pale she’d become, and that her lips had turned gray, and almost blue. He wiped the blood from her mouth, uncertain of what to say, but he wanted to stay calm for her.

“I’m sorry you have to see this,” she managed to say, and then she squeezed his hand. “Just be with me.” Sammi took another breath, staring into his eyes. “Declan, it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she whispered. “I think I might be okay now.”

With those words, Declan began to weep. The sound of her voice thinned to just a weak breath, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to save her. His heart was breaking, as she seemed to drift away from him in life.

Sammi’s face began to change. Her hair and her skin became brighter, drenched in colors he’d not seen before. Her eyes began to glow, reflecting yellow orbs that stared back at him, bright and intense. Sammi was smiling at him then; her expression was one of awe, and she gave a weak squeeze to his hand.

“Isn’t it amazing?” She said, her voice hoarse and strained. An odd warmth grew across his back and shoulders, confusing him with what was happening. From outside of the theater, he heard the Commune bells ringing, and people cheering. He heard loud explosions of laughter, and singing, and celebrating. All around him, the theater was becoming brighter, and alive, saturated in colors that revealed a time lost so many centuries before. For the first time in his life, a sudden breeze swept over his face. A world of fog held no winds to move weather against the turn of their planet, but the gush of air pushed his skin, and flowed through his hair. It was breathtaking, and he watched Sammi slowly close, and open her eyes, seeming to marvel at the same things.

The yellow orbs in her eyes grew more intense, and he could see the magnificence of her color and beauty. Her eyes, hair, and skin looked purer than at any other time in their lives. She gleamed with the sunshine raining down on their bodies, and Declan turned to face the End of Gray Skies. His eyes burned instantly from the direct sunlight, and he had to shut them. Even closed, he could still see echoes of the sun dancing in front of him. Absorbing the sun’s rays, he felt his skin warm up like it had never done before.

“It’s amazing!
Absolutely
amazing, Sammi! Isn’t it?” he exclaimed, and squeezed her hand. When Sammi didn’t reply, Declan knew that she was gone. He threw his face up, opening his eyes, and looking past the sun, as a rush of anguish came down over him. He didn’t want to look at Sammi. He didn’t want to see her like that. A slow rumble began somewhere deep inside him, and moved upward. His body quivered as the emotions grew in his chest, and exploded in a scream full of anger and hurt. He pulled Sammi’s hand up to his heart, and leaned over, feathering her face with his lips. Her eyes still looked alive, reflecting the glimmers of sunlight. Instinct told him to close them, but he left them as they were. Even as the torture of her loss pained him, he hoped that if there was any chance that she could still see and feel the sunlight, then he wanted her to have every precious moment of it.

7

Days after Sammi’s death, the End of Gray Skies had already begun to reverse itself. But, for a week, or maybe more, the world was normal. The sun dwarfed the earth, rising in the mornings, and falling in the evenings. The clouds that held a firm hand on them had lifted back to the sky, and crossed an endless blue sea, as if the centuries of fog had been forgotten. Children ran, untethered and fearless, shrieking and playing, and were called to come inside only when the daylight faded. Declan tried to share in the miracle, and even forced himself outside, favoring the sunset over the sunrise. Yet, standing as the sun disappeared on the horizon, and, with a twinge in his heart, his mind always went to Sammi, and their last moments together.

Then came the day of a heavy rain, and the sun threw colorful rainbows over their Commune. Afterward, a thick fog rolled in from the ocean and settled for the night, bringing back the salty stench for them to choke on. It was a sign, a small sign, and people had already begun to talk. Then there was the rainstorm. The storm had turned the sky black, and spat green lightning streaks that cut into the furthest reaches of the looming darkness. The salty air expanded in violent throes, hammering thunder down on them and pushing acrid winds that nearly turned over every part of their Commune. It was unlike anything they’d seen or heard.

The first screams about the heavy fogs returning had caught Declan’s attention. He listened as the leaders in the Commune tried to explain away the failed End of Gray Skies, but they were mere words, meaningless, and senseless to ponder, given the life he’d expected was already over. Standing outside their Commune building, Declan watched the thickness of the fog invade the skies. Clouds as tall as mountains lowered themselves to rest like loved ones coming together for a long stay.

“Sammi Sunshine,
”
he said aloud to anyone who could hear his voice. He said it again and again until every hint of the sunlight had disappeared from the face of the Earth. The VAC-Machines had failed to turn their world back to its former self, but Declan didn’t care. It mattered nothing to him that the sunlight was gone, or that the briefness of blue skies was lost for another five years.

When Declan looked at the sun, or felt the warm rays on his skin, he held memories of Sammi.
Sammi Sunshine,
he thought to himself, as he walked alone around the Commune. He passed the theater a dozen or more times, without the need of the morse lines, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to lift his eyes from the painted markings. On occasion, he’d bring with him a protein cracker, or two, and feed a few of the feral cats that trusted his company. Some days, he tried not to cry while the cats purred and ran figure eights around his legs. And some days, he even tried to smile. But most days, he just tried to live and imagine his life without her.

The day after Sammi was to have turned seventeen years old, Declan turned eighteen, and decided to leave the safety of his home. He left the familiar sounds, smells, and routines of his Commune, and ventured outside, in search of answers to the questions that occupied his mind. He wanted to know what had really happened to the VAC-Machines, and what the mysterious numbers were on the thick card of parchment that had been found in his mother’s satchel. He wanted to know about his mother and sister, as well. But there was more: Sammi’s memory drove him to leave.

His father objected, citing that, while life in the Commune wasn’t ideal, it was key for their survival. His father promised to find the truth about what had happened to Declan’s mother and sister. He said that the answers couldn’t be found at a VAC-Machine, but that they were within the Commune, the leadership, and the executive floors. But Declan also told him that he wanted to leave behind the pain of Sammi’s death. His father shook his head, already knowing the same pain, but he knew that leaving wouldn’t change anything. In his heart, Declan supposed he understood that Sammi’s death would be with him forever, and he wondered if, maybe, it needed to be.

There was a push that compelled him to go to the VAC-Machine. He needed to be near it, to touch it. He needed to learn of its ancient secrets, and he had to try to discover why all of the VAC-Machines had failed in the End of Gray Skies. Declan said his goodbyes, and left his father and his Commune, stopping once to hug Ms. Gilly, and to touch Andie’s head. The classroom had never seemed so small and distantly insignificant than it did during that final visit.

Remembering Sammi’s words, Declan followed the dotted morse line that lead to the black sands of the beaches. Anticipation grew with the roar of crashing waves. When he reached the beaches, his feet slipped in the loose sand, but he regained his footing, and settled into a long trek. With the sounds of breaking waves to his right, he kept his feet on an imagined morse line, following the merging of land and sandy beach. Tall, brown grasses sprouted from the sand on the path he’d chosen, draping against his legs, and helping to guide him while he walked and counted the hours that passed. When he was hungry, he ate what little food he carried with him. When he was thirsty, he drank some of the water he’d stowed on his back.