The Wall, page 24
“I’m angry uncle.”
“It’s okay Asher. And it’s okay to be angry with God. He is a big guy, He can take it.”
I stare into the flickering flames with my swollen eyes and realize how exhausted I am. The high of defeating Renatus’s first army to the absolute low of losing Sarai. Without her our victory feels hollow. Below us, my third army and soldiers of The Defiance dance and celebrate around massive bonfires. Even The Sons of Levi have joined in. I should be down there with Sarai, keeping her warm while she teaches me how to dance.
“I can help you bury her, we can do it here if you like, or in Zion, or back at your reservation.”
“The ocean,” my voice hoarse, my throat dry. “She should be with her brother.”
“The ocean,” Cephas confirms.
“But first, we go to The Mountain and free my parents. I want them to be there for her funeral,” I say with a growing resolve.
“Of course.”
“And her Van Halen shirt. Can you find it for me?”
After two days of solemn marching, we reach the base of The Mountain. I barely uttered a word to anybody the entire trip. I now see Cephas in a different light. I understand him a bit more. Shared grief leads to bonding.
A vestige of Renatus’s first army guarding the entrance scatters when they see us approach. We snake our way up the mountain where the fleeing guards did not bother to close the massive steel door. Cephas, Kenan, Jude, and I enter. Their disbelief at seeing their brethren frozen in cryogenic chambers is palpable as I have forgotten, out of the four of us, I’m the only one who has been here before. I quickly instruct Kenan to go to the control room and start figuring out how to unfreeze our people. We walk in silence and stare at the never-ending array of bodies cemented inside the pink translucent fluid.
How many lives have been stolen? How many families ripped apart? I wonder if they have thoughts and feelings while in this suspended state? Can they see? I shiver at the thought. I can’t bear to look at the children. But I am confident that Kenan will figure it out. That they will soon be reunited with their mothers and fathers. Cephas and I turn the corner and walk until we find my parents. Cephas approaches the body of his brother, Silas. He places his weary hand on the glass chamber. A tear rides the roller coaster that is the scars on his face. Again, I had only considered my loss.
“Brother.”
My parents’ last expression is one that describes them best. My father still has the look of a yielding, patient servant-leader. My mother oozes empathy. Both look like they were on the verge of smiling. It is almost as if they purposely set their countenance the moment they were frozen, to let their captors know they could take everything from them except their spirit, their souls. Cephas takes note of this as well.
“I think they knew you’d come.”
“What will you do now? Once they are free?” I ask.
“Your father will lead once again. I will do whatever is necessary to help him succeed. I wasn’t made to be a leader, you know that. I have done my part. We have gotten this far, but I’m not suited for what is needed to rebuild this country. I wouldn’t even know where to start nephew. Your father and mother, they will know.”
I turn to him. “Give me a minute?”
“Of course,” he answers trudging off.
I step close to them, place a hand on each of their chambers.
“Father, mother.”
I wonder what they would say to me in this moment, knowing who I have become and what we have accomplished. I look into their eyes, and it seems they are looking back at me, beaming with pride. In that moment I know what it is I must do. I tell them.
“Uncle once told me that the point of life is to die empty. I am there now, well, almost there. There is one more thing I need to do,” I begin to tear up. “I have done my best to be the son you wanted me to be, you raised me to be. I’m sorry I won’t see you when you awake.”
I know it’s my imagination but I swear that I see my father’s head nod. I know that he would understand. As there is no greater love than this.
“I will see you again, just not in this world.”
We load Sarai into one of the sealed chambers. Cephas does not agree with what I’m about to do.
“Are you sure son?”
“Yes,” I answer plainly.
“What about The Defiance? The New America? You are their leader now. You are the only one loved by both Dreck and Lazurite.”
I motion to Sarai. “I’m not the only one.”
“What about your parents?” Cephas asks.
“Tell them I died in battle.”
“They would not agree with this.”
“They would, in fact, they would do the same.”
“And me? What if I need you,” Cephas says betraying his vulnerability.
“You have everything you need and you know it. You and Sarai need to rebuild this country, restore the people. Along with my parents, you don’t need me.”
“Let’s make Jude do it instead.” Dreck humor never seems to stop.
I point to his pelican tattoo, the symbol of The Defiance, the symbol for sacrifice. “It’s time for me to be the pelican.”
“And you are a blood match?”
“Yes. We are an everything match.”
Kenan approaches. “You will be in this chamber here.”
He connects tubes from that chamber to the one Sarai is in.
“You sure you figured this thing out?” I ask him.
“Pretty sure,” he smiles.
Kenan is still learning Dreck humor, he is almost there. I grab the back of his neck and tell him, “You are courageous Kenan, you are meant to be a leader and a peace maker. Don’t let anyone ever tell you different.”
“Thanks . . . thanks for everything,” Kenan replies, I can see the sadness overtake him as he battled not to stutter.
“And don’t worry about that stutter, let your actions speak for you.”
I analyze the chambers, the facility, and for a moment I’m awed at the technology. Like a sin I don’t want to shed, I’m tempted not to have Cephas destroy the facility, and with it the lure of immortality. Man wasn’t meant to be omnipotent, or eternal, not on earth anyway.
“After Sarai awakes, destroy The Mountain. Be sure it is never replicated,” I tell Cephas.
“We agree on something,” Cephas snorts, fighting back tears.
I feel like I should say something more, but the words do not come. Sometimes silence is the best conversation. Despite what I just told Kenan, I have learned words have power, for good and for bad. There is nothing more for me to say. I undress, and naked as the day I was born, I crawl into the chamber. I am face to face with Sarai. My only regret is that I won’t see her awaken. I almost feel guilty as I know how hard it would be to live without her. Now I am passing that sentence along to her. But she is stronger than I.
Cephas lumbers closer. “Nephew, I am proud of you. Your father would be too.”
I swallow my emotions. I don’t want the last image of me to be one of sadness. I smile at Cephas. “You were right about me uncle.”
Kenan waits at the controls. I nod. The chamber hatch closes and fills with the cold pink gel like substance. Robotic arms painlessly inject me with various tubes and wires. In minutes nano-bots will enter my bloodstream, remove my LifeCell, and deliver it to Sarai.
Life is a series of moments. You are defined by them. Not months, years, or even decades. Not your accomplishments.
But moments.
A helping hand to someone who has fallen.
A kind word to the despondent.
A matchbox car to a child who has nothing.
A homemade meal for a grieving widow.
Dying for a friend.
Moments.
Mine has come.
Within seconds I have lost the ability to move; I know it is happening and it’s painless. Both Cephas and Kenan turn away, neither of them can watch. My eyes close, and when I open them I am warm, the sun against my back. I gently rock back and forth, then I hear her voice.
“Look at the size of this one!” Sarai exclaims holding up a colossal fish.
We are on our small makeshift boat in the middle of the paltry lake where I proposed. I see my reflection in the crisp clear water. It is me, but a different version of me. One without pain or sorrow. My scars have been erased. My grays have receded. My heart is replete with peace and forgiveness. It is not Amos’s face but my own. Sarai tosses the fish into a bucket of water filled to the rim with ones just like it.
“Bait me?” she asks in a flirtatious tone.
I pin another worm on her hook. She casts her line back in. Her guileless braided hair flutters in the breeze. She peers up at the sun, breathes in that familiar smell of jasmine and lavender. Her smile is like a spring sunset. Her eyes the color of autumn. Her skin warm like summer. Her spirit is as pure as a fresh winter’s snow.
“Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
Yes.
Yes it is.
Cephas places his meaty paw against Asher’s chamber and wipes the tears from his face with the other. The room instantly seems colder.
“I’ll see you again my nephew.”
The computers connected to Sarai’s chamber come to life. There are beeps announcing the resurrection of her vitals.
“It’ll take a couple of weeks before she is ready to come out,” Kenan informs Cephas.
“How long for everyone else?”
“About a week to bring everyone out of cyro-state.”
Cephas thinks for a moment. “Have a debriefing plan in place for when they awake, surely they will be confused and disoriented.”
“Will do.”
“And for the families, awaken the parents first, I do not want the children to see them like this, as they will be terrified enough. I want the first people they see to be their mother and father.”
“Of course,” Kenan answers.
Asher’s actions remind Cephas of one of his favorite Bible verses in John: “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Cephas thinks that it should have been him instead of Asher, that he should have volunteered to sacrifice himself. After all, it was he who got Asher into this mess in the first place. But he knows Asher would not have had any of it, especially for Sarai. It had to be him.
Kenan approaches. “When we are all finished we can destroy The Mountain and all the data inside the computers. I was thinking of using pulse-grenades and an EMP. What do you think?”
“Yes, of course,” Cephas replies, then looks back at Asher’s lifeless body, “but, not yet.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I am Sarai, former sultana of Zion, widow of a man who has no equal. I am now the reluctant leader of a New America. It has been three months since Asher laid down his life for me. Not a day, hour, or minute goes by that I don’t think about him, his sacrifice, his love, his laugh. It’s a mystery to me why fate has not allowed us to be together. At first I was angry at him for leaving me behind, leaving me to live in this world without him. But, as with everything when it comes to Asher, I’m never sullen for too long. I try not to opine over it for I have work to do.
Most of The Wall has come down. My father has retreated to the Eastern Coast where he has resurrected his fourth and fifth armies. Zion East is where he is attempting to rebuild his empire. They provide a few skirmishes here and there for control of the eastern section of The Wall yet to be deactivated. I know another war is coming. But not today. As for today I am tasked with restoring a nation and the people’s trust, but I have to start small. Today, we are rebuilding a park. This is part of what I have called The Asher Plan. And a continuance of what his mother and father started so many years ago. In fact, they stroll with me now, each of them holding my hands as if I was their daughter, they are the parents I never had. I place my hand on my belly, at sixteen weeks I’m just beginning to show. I’m unable to yet even think about being a mother without Asher.
We cover our eyes to block out the brilliant sun as we oversee the construction of the new park. Fresh grass. New swings. A massive spiral slide. A baseball field is in the works. The park’s location is no accident. It sits directly between the two majestic weeping willows where we were married. And exactly where The Wall once stood. Where there was once separation there will be unity. And it starts with the children. The narcdrops have stopped and the rehab centers are beginning to reopen. I have turned my father’s opulent castle into an orphanage. The children can’t get enough of the pool. I even convinced Cephas to read them stories while Jude has volunteered to be the lifeguard on Sundays. As for me, I’m not quite ready to return to the ocean, but I think I’m getting close.
I peer into the eyes of the people passing me by, Drecks and Lazurites are starting to assimilate. Mothers, fathers, children. And even though society has a long road ahead, I can still see a tinge of apathy and oppression that was abundant on this side of The Wall. There is still poverty, addiction, and ruin. It takes time for people to learn to be free again. To remember what it is like to not be oppressed.
But I also see a glimmer of something different in their eyes. Something I have not seen in a long time.
Something powerful.
Something necessary.
Hope.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The idea for this novel germinated many years ago. At the time I was writing screenplays and thought The Wall would be my next one. But the more I thought about the story and the themes, I realized this would be better served in novel form. Then, to my dismay, I realized this could and should be a trilogy. I never thought I could pull off one novel much a less trilogy!
But this was something I definitely couldn’t do myself. First and foremost, my wife, Erica, has given me unending support for this crazy dream of mine. She lets me talk about ideas and scenes as well as reads my first drafts offering support and feedback. I want to thank my three children; Noah, Madelynn, and Marshall, who serve as my daily inspiration. To my family members who have supported me and offered to be my beta readers. I want to thank Frank Peretti for his invaluable mentorship and advice while writing my first novel. I would also like to thank John at Koehler Books for his feedback and expertise navigating the publishing and marketing arena as well as the entire team at Koehler, from the editing to the cover.
Lastly, I would like to thank God for making this possible, giving me the desire to write, and to help fulfill this dream.
He gets all the credit.
Brian Penn, The Wall
