Impervious (The Ascension Series Book 1) (13 page)

“How did it happen?” she whispered.

“They injected my optic nerves with a paralytic.”  His laugh came out in a cynical growl.

“But?”

“But Ema, my dear, is a healer.”

Ema nodded her head and joined in. “It took time, though. As you can see, some of the treatments were pretty harsh on his skin.”

“But it worked?”

“I’ve employed the aid of some very helpful teas and herbs.” She placed her index finger onto her lips and gazed into the open space. “Oh and
Curcuma Longa
, the healing plant. Definitely a very important component in the process.”

Ema’s precise manner of speech was that of academia and Fran considered Ema’s history a moment before turning back to Ben.

“Dr. Leiben, do you remember Chan? He worked as your scribe, I think.”

“Chan? Of course.” Ben’s face lit up. “You don’t know how relieved I was to hear he was finally released. How do you know Chan?”

“He was my mentor. He saved my life.”

“Yep. Sounds, about right. I’m looking forward to his final healing. He and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

Fran turned to Ema. “Can I see him?”

“Of course. Come, dear.”

Fran hesitated. She still had a million questions for Doc but he waved her off. “Go visit your mentor. You and I will have plenty of time for discussions.”

Fran nodded, eager to see her old mentor and followed Ema across the central hearth to another structure on the far side of the fire. A line of beds rested along the far wall. Marie lay in the first bed. Tanya sat nearby, stroking Marie’s hair and helping her take small sips of water.

Fran drew near to the bed. “Hi, Marie.”

Marie nodded before her eyelids drooped.

“I’ve given her a sedative tea. The release can cause quite a shock to their system, and it allows their bodies the opportunity to begin to heal.”

Fran nodded, reached into her pocket, where she had placed the folded photo and delicate bracelet. She laid them onto the low table next to Marie’s bed before scanning the room. Then she saw him.

On admission to the Ranch, Chan’s signature black pony had been snipped. Nubby outgrowth capped his skull, but she’d recognize his eyes anywhere—black as night, brimming with wisdom. He sat with his back against a pillow, sipping a steamy mug of tea. Fran’s chest tightened as she approached his bed. Did she see a glimmer of recognition?

Ema’s warning rang through her ears. “
Don’t expect too much change, dear. He hasn’t yet fully healed.
”

She rested a hip on the edge of his bed. “Hello, Chan.”

He nodded and, with a shaky hand, set his tea onto the side table. He stared into Fran’s face. His brows furrowed deep with concentration. She silently begged for recognition, longing for her old mentor back. The corners of his mouth dipped into a frown, and on an exasperated breath he closed his eyes. Fran waited for them to reopen, but a moment later, a light snore emitted from his mouth.

She sat and watched him sleep for few breaths, then swiped at the tear trailing her cheek and moved back to the doorway.

“Go ahead, dear.” Ema hovered at Marie’s bedside. “I’ll be along in a moment.”

Fran moved out of the hut and stood by the door. The sky had changed from soft pinks and purples to an inky black. The air felt chillier, and she shivered. Gazing up at the darkened sky, the unknown haunted her.
Would he ever be right again?

“Sarah-Fran.”

She whipped around, unaccustomed to hearing her name called out, and saw a figure from the other side of the fire. She waved her father approached.

“How is your mentor?”

Fran shrugged. “He’ll probably be fine.” A rush of emotions threatened to spill. “That’s what Ema says.”

“Mmm. I’ve seen dozens of healings. It’s a miracle really.” Fran looked up at her father and failed an attempted smile. He chuckled and rested an arm on her shoulder. “He’s going to be good as new. Really.”

Fran stiffened under his embrace, embarrassed by his show of affection. Then again, his strong hold felt safe. Protection. The notion melted her awkwardness a little, and she lifted her gaze to her father.

“Thanks.”

He smiled down at Fran. “You bet. Listen, I know you must be exhausted, but would you like to take a little side trip before we turn in?”

“Sure. Where to?”

“Come on. I’ll show you.” Ian led Fran outside of the reaches of the fire and into the forest. At first, the darkness seemed as blinding as crawling through the air vents, but as her eyes adjusted, the night unfolded around her. Varying degrees of grays and blacks took shape, and soon Fran noticed bits of light filtering in between the shadowy limbs of the trees.

“Watch your step, Sarah.”

Ian took hold of Fran’s hand and assisted her over a hidden log. They continued to trek at a slow, careful pace and now that she was moving, she enjoyed the cool, damp air. Night smelled different than earlier in the day. Muskier. Richer. Because the animals’ daytime melodies quieted to a sleepy nighttime hush, her rustling footsteps—as well as those of her father's—sounded loud, intrusive even, as they walked amid the slumbering forest.

Soon, they made their way to a border where the trees gave way to a meandering river. The waters lapped at the muddy shore and sparkled as they mirrored luminescence from above. Fran lifted her gaze skyward to the spherical moon, which looked like the head of a bald man smiling down on them. She shuddered at its eerie resemblance to the residents at the Ranch and quickly turned back to her father.

Diamonds sparkled from his eyes, and a glimmer danced upon his head as the river winked in the background. The twinkling of a few faraway stars drew her back to the inky sky. The longer she focused on the heavens, the more glowing orbs grew in abundance before her very eyes.

She smiled at her father. “Amazing.”

Ian lifted his own gaze to the sky and paused as if also stupefied by the vast expanse.

“Even the intelligent creators of Impervious could not duplicate this beauty. Think about it. Such small lights. Yet, they light our path as if it’s daylight.”

They sat in silence, and Fran allowed herself to be spellbound by the trippy night sky until Ian sighed and gave her shoulder a protective squeeze.

“Hardly a death sentence, huh?”

“Yep. That’s for sure.” Fran agreed. “Hey, Dad—”

She paused. The name still sounded odd coming from her mouth, yet the title slipped out with ease. She looked up at Ian and said it again.

“Dad?”

Ian smiled, and his nostrils flared. “Yes, Sara-Fran?”

“Why hasn’t anyone gone back to Impervious and told them? I mean, you know, that the earth is safe.”

“Yes.” He quieted and looked to the sky as if seeking an answer. “You’re not the first to pose that question. But it’s not that simple.”

Fran waited as her father contemplated the night. “Suffice it to say, there are many safeguards in place to discourage that very thing.”

Fran nodded her head, remembering the well-guarded vestibule. “I can get around the guard, you know.”

Ian turned to his daughter. “I wouldn’t attempt that, Sara-Fran.” He shook his head to emphasize the point, as if he already knew his daughter’s strong will. “Tell you what, why don’t you ask Ema about her ray scars.”

“Ray scars?” Fran cringed and touched her bare arm.

“Yes. A deathly device carried by the guard protecting the portal. A shot in any major organ would render death. Fortunately for Ema, she only suffered minor damage when trying to return.”

Ian continued. “Anyway, Impervieites seem happy with life the way it is. They eat, drink, and live an easy, synthetic world. Quite different than out here, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I guess.”

“You could say that
most
folks aren’t searching for a way out.” Ian shook his head. “You know, I sometimes wonder if the majority wouldn’t just prefer to stay in the city anyway.”

Like Ted?

Fran drew in a breath and held it tight before allowing it to seep from her lips. Surely, some of them would want to know.

They had to tell them. People needed to know that the Epoch was real. They needed to be told to stop selling out their lives for a little fame and fortune. As her father had just pointed out from the night sky, a little light could go a long way.

Chapter Twenty One

The following day Fran lingered around the fire crew and admired the rhythm of the workers. The hypnotic thump of the axe and scream of the wood as the blade tore through the center continued for several minutes before one of the workers smiled and handed over his axe. Fran, who had been itching to give it a try, stepped up to the log and stretched her arms high overhead. She swung the sharp tool through the air, but upon impact, the hatchet simply bounced off the awaiting log.

The man, who looked old enough to be her father, chuckled and took back his tool. As he bore down, muscles rippled through his back and his blade tore through the log. With the two halves still rocking, he turned and smiled at Fran.

“And that’s the way it’s done.”

He extended his arm, palm facing the sky. “Edam.”

Fran grabbed his forearm and returned the greeting. “Fran. Impressive work, Edam.”

“Yeah. Not bad for an old guy.”

“Gen Three?” Fran inquired.

Edam nodded. “Good guess.”

“Do you have any family on the inside?”

“Of course,” He answered.  “A son and a wife. That’s why I haven’t moved on. I’ll stick around until my family’s complete.”

“Hmm.” Fran wasn’t sure how to respond.

Edam smiled. “No worries. I know I’ll see them soon.”

He lifted his axe overhead for another swing and Fran smiled. “Nice to meet you, Edam.”

She moved away from the circle of workers toward the healing hut. Maybe today Chan would be more lucid. When she arrived, however, she found the occupants of the all the beds to be sleeping. She moved to the first bed and smiled down at Marie. Maybe one day soon, she could rest her head on mom’s shoulder and listen to her sing again. As she moved past the second bed, she saw Fiona. She’d been so excited last night, she’d completely missed her first ward to be released. Fiona also dozed—mouth open and a snore gurgling through her throat. Fran wondered how this world would stack up for someone like Fiona and snickered at what lie ahead.

She passed a few empty cots before she reached Chan. She rested a hip onto his bed and sat for a moment silently wishing for him to wake. As she watched and waited, new questions swirled around her head. Would he be glad to see her? What if he was mad at her for coming out all alone?

Chan snorted and Fran jumped, thinking he was waking. However, when he settled deeper into his small cocoon, she realized he was down for the count, and therefore, returned to parents’ structure.

Mom jumped up when Fran entered. “Oh I’m so glad you’re back. There’s something I want to show you.”

Fran followed her down a short path through the woods to a small opening and a spring of clear water.

“The most amazing bathtub around,” Ruth announced with outstretched arms. Along the bank grew clusters of plants with long stalks covered in tiny bluish-white flowers. Ruth knelt down and yanked an entire plant from the ground.

“I guarantee you’ve never experienced a bath like this.” She pulled a bulbous root from the clump, tossed aside a handful of tiny flowers, and handed Fran the bulb.

“All you need to do is squeeze this into your palm and, ta-dah. Instant soap.”

“Mom.” Fran stared at the bulb. “How in the world would someone know that?”

Ruth chuckled at her daughter’s reaction. “Oh, sweetie, this is only the tip of the iceberg. Ema has taught me some amazing aspects of this natural earth. We really want for nothing.” She smiled at her daughter and nodded toward the spring. “Give it a try.”

The water looked clear and inviting. Large, red boulders surrounded one side of the spring, affording some privacy, but the idea of disrobing and bathing in the broad daylight? Out in the open? Not in a million years.

“Mom, what if someone comes by?”

“Oh, they won’t. This the female bathing area. We each take turns and but I’m giving you my personally-allotted time. The spring and its privacy are all yours. Go ahead. Take your time. I’ll fetch you a clothing for drying and some clean clothes.”

Ruth departed, leaving Fran alone with the bulbous root and the clear spring. She ran fingers through her tangled curls, feeling the salty remnants of the prior day and the grit on her face as she swept a hand across her forehead.

She sniffed the flower-bulb in her hand. It smelled sweet and soapy. What the heck?

After slipping out of her Canvies, she eased into the warm, swirling waters, lowering herself until only her head remained above the surface. She moved her arms and legs in slow circles, feeling weightless as the bubbly spring waters danced across her skin.

She lifted the soap root out from below the water and squeezed its sponginess. A foamy, flowery essence trickled out. Fran giggled as she sprinkled it on her hair. The more she scrubbed, the sudsier she got. She washed her face before diving under to rinse and then cleaned between her toes and behind her ears, not wanting even a speck from the underground city to remain on her body.

Once she finished washing, she lingered in the water, gliding from one edge of the spring to the other, feeling graceful and free. She breathed in the fresh morning air and hummed along with the birds as they sang in nearby trees. Lifting her face to the sky, she enjoyed the various spotty colors floating across her closed lids.

After a luxurious soak, she noticed crinkly skin on her fingers and took it as a sign to open the spring to another bather. With reluctance, she swam to the shore where a folded soft blanket and shimmery robe awaited. She dried, tossed the robe-like dress over her head, and looked down to appreciate the dance of the sun on the fabric. A few drops of water dripped from her curls as she walked the path feeling alive and invigorated, in harmony with the dynamic world around her.

Back at the camp, Mom gave her a steamy mug of tea. It tasted bitter at first but left a sweet licorice aftertaste in her mouth. Golden warmth enveloped her body as they moved to sit by the fire.

Fran looked sideways at Mom before sipping her tea and gazing back into the fire.

“This really is amazing, Mom.” They giggled together like a couple of old friends until Ruth excused herself and Fran was left alone with her thoughts. Out here in this strange new world, her underground memories seemed blurry and frightening, as if it had all been a horrible nightmare. And even though she’d known nothing else for her entire life, today it seemed preposterous to think people lived down there. Being poisoned. Walking to their death.

She thought about her brother. Had he really given in to the Impervious way? And what about Pete? Would he try to exit the portal on his own the way she had? The thought seeing Pete sent a ripple of excitement through her core. She missed his goofiness and laughed out loud as she pictured Retter running through the prairie with Pete over his shoulder.

Later in the day, she accompanied Tanya on a short scouting mission. As they took a moment to rest under the shade of an oak, Tanya inquired if Fran wanted something to eat. Like always, her mouth began to water. Tanya produced a large red sphere from her bag and held it up to Fran.

“Apple?”

“Apple?” Fran parroted. The only apple Fran had tasted had come from a can with SECURED stamped on the side. Fran squinted. “Is it safe?”

Tanya slid a knife from a sheath by her waistband. Fran took a quick step back, as Tanya smiled and held up the apple.

“How about we share it?”

She cut into the fruit, and a fine spray of juice shot into the air, making Fran flinch a second time. Tanya smiled as she wiped her sticky hand.

“Go ahead. Have a taste.”

Fran turned the fruit over in her hands and held it to her nose. She sniffed the flesh. The ripe aroma compelled her to move it to her mouth. On a loud crunch, she clamped down and pierced the crisp red. Another spray of nectar shot through the air, and Fran’s eyes widened as the sweetmeat tickled her taste buds. Without even swallowing her first bite, she dove into the apple for more—like the french fries all over again. But better.

While munching, she kept an eye on Tanya, who seemed amused. Fran realized she had juice dripping off her chin and self-consciously swiped her face with the back of her hand.

A rustling through the woods caught their attention, and Tanya spotted a brown bear about a hundred feet away. Tanya appeared calm, and whispered a warning for Fran to remain silent and glued to the tree. With wide eyes and a pounding heart, she complied. Eventually, the bear wandered off, leaving Fran with shaky legs and a very cool memory.

Hours later, Fran strolled with her father from the central warming fire back to their cabin in quasi-silence, exhausted and relaxed at the same time. Even so, Chan’s recovery nibbled at the edges of her brain.

“Dad, I’m going to visit Chan another time before I turn in. Tell mom, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

She approached the darkened hut and hesitated at the doorway unsure if she should enter. Edged in the glow of the central hearth, Fran could see shadowy outlines of the beds.

“Wolf.”  His deep voice seemed to growl from the shadows.

Fran jumped and her heart stopped. “Chan?” His name came out on a whisper. She raced across the room to his bed. “Chan?” His name rolled from the depths of a sob.

A glow-
the moon? The fire?
—reflected from his eyes. Life twinkled from his iris and Fran could have sworn his mouth curled into a smile.

“Wolf. Go back.”

“I know, I know, Chan. We have to tell them. We have to help them, right?” A tear coursed along her cheek and Fran slurped back her saliva. “Oh Chan, I’ve missed you so much. It’s getting worse down there. I mean…”

“Chan?”

A light snore sounded.

“Chan?”

The room darkened as a cloud moved across the bright moon, and she knew Chan was out again. Fran exhaled a small sob and then pulled the covering up under her mentor’s chin.

Soon he’d be back
.

And she planned to make him proud.