“Huh?”
“Adding another channel on the bottom of the plate will change the air flow and subsequently the way the crystals fall, thus creating a path to the forbidden zone.”
“What chapter?” Billy asked, licking his dry lips.
“The Last Chapter.”
Billy was shocked. It never occurred to him that there might be a last chapter. Did this mean like the end of the world?
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Bag of Surprises
Suddenly Billy felt lightheaded. His body tilted to the side. He clawed the table with his fingers in order not to lose balance.
Rohan looked at Billy’s pale face.
“Oh boy.” He pulled Billy a chair. “Sit, drink this.”
He gave him a small metal can. Billy allowed a few drops into his mouth. The liquid was sweet and refreshing. He finished the drink in a few gulps. He felt much better.
“That was delicious.” Billy exhaled and placed the empty can on the table. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Rohan shrugged his shoulders. “Some kind of a local drink I picked up in the grocery store earlier today.” He brought the can closer to his eyes. “Lychee drink,” he read the label.
“I love lychee!” Billy exclaimed.
“Oh my, you must be hungry,” Rohan said. “You haven’t eaten all day.”
He reached for the bag under the table. “Here, try this.”
Rohan handed Billy canned soup, a plastic spoon and a loaf of bread. Billy pulled the tab and opened the can. Cautiously he tried its contents. Well, he thought, it’s not exactly mama’s soup but it will do. Minutes later, he was scraping the remaining soup from the bottom of the can. After hours of rest, and with food in his stomach, Billy felt full of energy again. He leaned back in his chair, allowing his body to absorb his dinner. The events of last night flew through his mind. Then his face contorted with anger. He slammed the empty can on the table. “I can’t believe Anna-Maria betrayed us like that!”
Rohan almost dropped his tools. “What?”
“You saw that. She led us directly to a trap! Soldiers were everywhere!”
“How could you even think like that?” Rohan exclaimed. “If they knew where we were coming from, why didn’t they set a trap right there in the stables?”
Billy never thought of that. “I don’t know,” he answered, perplexed.
“And how do you explain that it took them so long to notice us?”
“I don’t know.” Billy’s voice lost its confidence.
“Those tunnels have more than one exit,” Rohan remarked. “Since Khamunaph didn’t know which one we were going to use, he must’ve set traps in different places.”
“So, Anna-Maria . . .”
“She risked her life to save ours,” finished Rohan.
Billy felt ashamed of his thoughts and at the same time relieved—they were still friends.
A few minutes later, Rohan finished carving the plate and gave it a satisfied look. “All right, I’m done here.” Then he turned to Billy. “There is some warm clothing over there by the wall. You’d better put it on.”
By the wall near his bench, Billy found a pile of clothes. There were leather boots, warm pants, a sweater, a jacket, a warm hat, and a pair of gloves.
“Do I have to wear all of it?” asked Billy. The Egyptian heat was still fresh in his memories.
“You’d better,” answered Rohan. “It’s freezing cold outside. It’s February.”
“I’m not cold,” Billy said.
“That’s because this lab is in a building with a centralized heating system. Trust me, you’ll need it out there.”
As Billy started to change, Rohan began to reassemble the hourglass.
They finished almost at the same time. When Billy zipped up his jacket, Rohan positioned and locked the last plate. Then he took a needle, like the ones that are used to inflate a basketball, and inserted it into a small hole in the frame. He connected an air hose to the needle and turned on a portable pump. It started to hum.
“What is this for?” asked Billy.
“To set the right air pressure,” answered Rohan, keeping his eyes on the air gauge. When the moment was right, he quickly removed the needle.
“We’re all set,” said Rohan and sunk the hourglass into a backpack. After that he put on his coat, buttoned it all the way up, put a warm winter hat on his head and warm gloves on his hands. He sat down on a chair and put the backpack on his lap.
“Now what?” Billy asked.
“Now we wait,” Rohan answered.
“Wait for what?”
“The earthquake.”
“The what?” Billy almost screamed.
“There will be a powerful earthquake here,” said Rohan in the same calm voice.
“When?”
“In about a minute or so.”
“What . . .? How . . .? Of all the times and places, why in the world did you choose this one?”
“Who’s going to look for us here?”
Billy was speechless.
“Don’t worry,” Rohan assured him. “This building won’t sustain any serious damage.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve been here before.”
Billy sat there on his bench, staring at Rohan who was hugging his backpack on his lap, and suddenly he realized that he reminded him of the magician from the school show with his bag of surprises—the bag seemed to be empty, but every time the magician put his hand in it, he would pull out something new. The scary question was: How many more surprises were left in Rohan’s bag?
“We need to tell somebody,” said Billy when his heartbeat had slowed down, “to warn people.”
“Don’t worry, it’s been done already. Most of the people are evacuated.”
Billy wanted to say something else but he couldn’t—a low rumbling noise came from somewhere deep below the floor. The next moment, the floor suddenly shifted to the side. The shockwave was so strong, it threw Billy off the bench. He heard the sound of broken glass. The whole room abruptly shifted to the other side, then back and then forward and to the side again. The wooden shelves by the walls collapsed, scattering candles around and killing their light. The room got darker and only the kerosene lamp over the ceiling swung chaotically from side to side, sending crazy shadows all over the place. Billy tried to stand up but was immediately thrown back to the floor. He felt as though he was a little hamster in a cage and some crazy kid was violently shaking it.
“Stay down!” He heard Rohan’s voice. Billy looked at the direction of the voice and saw Rohan sitting on the floor under the table. With one hand, he was holding the backpack, his other arm coiled around the table leg. “Stay down and find something to hold on to!” Rohan shouted again.
Billy gazed around. Wooden wreckage and broken glass covered the floor. There was nothing to grab. Then he had an idea. As quick, as he could, he rolled under the bench and clung to the wall. He did that just in time. The next second, the wall at the far end of the lab gave way. Under the tremendous pressure of continuous shockwaves it fell apart, sending debris of rock all the way across the room. Billy instinctively put his arms over his head. He heard some rocks hitting the bench. Then silence fell.
For some time Billy didn’t dare to move. When nothing else happened, he finally
looked around. Through the cloud of dust, he saw a huge hole where there used to be a wall. A weak light coming from outside lit what remained of the lab. In the middle of the room, Billy saw a pile of rocks. The heavy table stood there almost vertically, buried under debris.
“Rohan!” shouted Billy. There was no answer.
As quickly as he could, Billy hustled from under the bench and ran to the table. When he got closer, he found Rohan sitting behind the table. A heavy coat of dust and small rocks covered his body, blending him in with the pile.
“Rohan!” Billy shouted and shook Rohan’s shoulders.
He
heard a weak moan. Then Rohan raised his head. “I’m getting too old for this. Way too old.”
“Thank goodness you’re alive!” Billy exclaimed. He helped Rohan to his feet.
Rohan shook off some dust and glanced around. What used to be his lab only a minute ago was now a heap of wood, glass and rock. Surprisingly, Rohan didn’t seem angry. Instead, he was rather baffled.
“Well, that’s new,” he said, looking at the broken wall.
“What do you mean?” Billy asked.
“This never happened before,” Rohan answered.
“Yeah, you said the building wouldn’t be damaged!”
“Well, something has changed.”
“What’s changed?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” shrieked Billy in a gush of anger.
“It means I don’t know!” Rohan snapped back. Then he took a deep breath. “Maybe the guy who was supposed to build a stronger wall years ago didn’t make it to work because he got hit by a bus, driven by another guy who was born many years ago only because his parents survived a flood they weren’t meant to survive. Billy, I don’t know.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Billy calming down.
“Plan B.”
“What’s plan B?”
“Expect the unexpected. We don’t know what else changed. Keep your eyes open and be ready for anything.”
Rohan put the backpack with the hourglass behind his back and secured the straps. “First of all we have to leave this building. It may collapse at any moment.”
Hastily, they climbed up the rock pile. It was getting dark outside.
When they stepped into the cold winter air, a scene of utter devastation struck them. Every building on the street was either partly or completely destroyed and the streetlights were out. Some places were on fire, which broke the darkness and illuminated the streets.
Billy and Rohan began making their way through the crumbled remains of what used to be a once densely populated city. The ruins and patches of fire, mixed with dust and smoke, made the city look like a war zone. A number of people stood in the middle of the street. Some were crying; others shook their heads in disbelief. Dust covered their clothes and faces, making them all look alike.
“I thought you said everyone left,” Billy said.
“There are always some stubborn folks who refuse to go,” Rohan replied.
“But why?”
“For many reasons. Mostly it’s either they don’t believe or they pretend they don’t care.” Rohan paused. “That is, until it really happens.”
He seemed to have little compassion for those people. They were warned. They had made their choices.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
Plan C
“Try to stay in the middle of the road,” said Rohan to Billy as they walked down the street.
“Where are we going?” asked Billy.
“Our point of destination is about eighty miles from here,” Rohan answered. “But first we need to collect some water and food, enough for three days, at the least.”
“Three days? We are going to be here for three days?” exclaimed Billy.
“This isn’t my intention, but we should be prepared for the worst.”
When they reached a crossroad, Rohan stopped. “Wait here,” he said, “I’ve got some shopping to do.”
Billy watched Rohan disappear into the dark ruins of what used to be a convenience store.
Something cold and wet touched Billy’s face, then again, and again. He looked up; snow had started to fall. The first snowflakes were very little, then they grew bigger and bigger. Billy lifted the collar of his jacket. He started to appreciate his warm clothing. Yet somehow, he didn’t quite feel the warmth. There he stood, a little boy amidst ruins and fire, with smoke in the air and snowflakes on his cheeks in a foreign city, in a foreign country, and in a foreign time. It wasn’t the weather, though, that made Billy feel cold—it was the chilling breath of loneliness that once again crawled under his skin, squeezing his little heart with its icy claws.
Billy wanted to cry. It would be only natural if he did under the circumstances, but he didn’t.
Instead, he stood frozen in the middle of the crossroad looking at the same spot where Rohan had disappeared minutes ago. Luckily, Rohan wasn’t away for too long. When his silhouette appeared from the darkness, Billy jolted towards him. He swung his arms around Rohan and dug his face into his coat.
“What? What happened?” asked Rohan alarmed.
Billy just shook his head and tightened his grip. Rohan lowered his bag of provisions and put his hands on Billy’s shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Billy,” Rohan said. “You’re a brave little kid, but I won’t leave you alone anymore. I promise.”
Billy raised his watering eyes to Rohan and nodded.
“Hey, look what I’ve got!” Rohan said cheerfully and opened his bag.
Billy kneeled down and looked inside. There were a few small bottles of water, some beef jerky, and a bunch of candy bars.
“Isn’t it stealing?” Billy raised his eyes at Rohan.
“Maybe it would be if we took a truckload of goods,” Rohan replied. “We only took enough to live another day. Under the circumstances, I would call it survival. Don’t worry; have a treat.”
Billy searched inside the bag. He found the candy he liked and was about to take it when all of a sudden Rohan squeezed his hand tightly. At first, Billy thought that perhaps he wasn’t allowed that particular candy, that maybe Rohan wanted that one for himself. He tried to pull back, but Rohan squeezed his hand even more strongly. “Don’t breathe,” he hissed in Billy’s ear.
It wasn’t what he said that made Billy hold his breath, but how he said it.
Without moving a muscle in his body, Billy took his eyes away from the bag. He was staring at the snowflakes that were hanging in the air in front of his face. They weren’t moving. There was no sound, only absolute silence. Billy knew what it meant. He held his breath so the vapor from his mouth wouldn’t give him away and counted the seconds. There shouldn’t be more than thirty, he thought. Nearby he heard the rustling sound of clothing. Was it over? No, the sound was isolated. Then there was a crunching of snow under someone’s footsteps. The sound was getting closer. Billy was itching to look back, to scream and to run but he didn’t dare, especially with Rohan’s tenacious grip tightening around his wrist. It was hard to tell how many people were there, but for sure there were more than one. The footsteps were sounding farther away from them now.
All the sounds came back at once as if someone had switched a TV from “mute” to full volume. Rohan straightened up.
“They are onto us. We’ve got to move.”
“How do you know they are looking for us?” asked Billy with hope in his voice. “Maybe that was this chapter’s Librarian just making his way.”
“Where? To the library?”
Billy smiled, but Rohan’s face remained straight.
“First the wall, now the Librarians. I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “Too many coincidences.”
He picked up the bag with provisions and handed it to Billy.
“Not too heavy?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” Billy answered and strapped the bag over his shoulder.
“This way,” said Rohan, heading to the half-ruined four-storey building.
“Where are we going?” asked Billy.
“Inside,” Rohan said, “away from open spaces where we could be easily spotted.”
“I thought you said to stay in the open.”
“Plan B. We are going in.”
“Wouldn’t that be plan C or something?”
Rohan stopped abruptly and turned to Billy.
Uh-oh, Billy thought. He could see that Rohan’s lifestyle had taught him a great deal of discipline. Any frivolities were unacceptable. But when Billy studied Rohan’s face, he was relieved to see it soften.
“I admire your sense of humor,” Rohan said. “But when life throws you an obstacle, you have to adjust and keep on moving.” He turned around and climbed through the broken window inside the building. Billy followed him.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Five
Uncharted Grounds
Through the darkness of the room Billy could barely see pieces of furniture scattered around. Broken glass, mixed with debris from the ceiling and the walls, screeched under his boots. Falling snow made the twilight a bit brighter, but only outside. Billy heard Rohan muttering quietly every time he ran into another obstacle. Finally, Rohan gave up. From the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out two dark-colored cylinders and handed one to Billy. “Here, take this.”
“What is it?” asked Billy, taking the cylinder.
“It’s a flashlight.”
“Is it made of plankton that lives in the ocean?”
“No, it’s made in China. Just push the button.” Rohan turned around and muttered, “Little joker.”
Billy grinned and turned on his flashlight. A bright beam of light cut through the darkness.
“I would refrain from pointing it out the windows, if I were you,” added Rohan. “We don’t want to compromise our position.”
The next room was full of books. Books were everywhere—on the table, on the couch, but mostly on the floor, mixed with dust and debris.
“Somebody likes to read here,” noted Rohan.
“Maybe it’s a librarian, I mean a real one,” Billy suggested.
“That’s unlikely, librarians don’t take books home. They have more than enough in the library.”
“True,” Billy agreed. “Maybe he is a teacher?”
“Or she,” said Rohan, dusting off a woman’s picture.
Out of the room through a narrow corridor crowded with bikes, they got to the exit door. Rohan tried the doorknob—the door didn’t move. He played with the lock and tried again—same result.
“It’s jammed,” said Rohan. “We need to find another exit.”
“Can we just kick through the door?” Billy asked.
“I’d rather not,” Rohan replied. “The whole thing may collapse on us. We better find something else. Here . . .”
Rohan’s flashlight lit a door on the other side of the corridor. He went to the door and turned the doorknob—the door opened easily. They stepped inside. The flashlight beam revealed a sink, some dishes, and a fridge. “It’s a kitchen,” Rohan said.