Chapter Fifteen
“Michael?” I tried to call, my voice breaking. I could not take a clean breath through the thick dust that filled the air around me. A high-pitched ringing resonated in my ears. There was such pain in my shoulders—hot searing pain. I reached up to rub my eyes into focus, but the movement caused so much pain in my arms I could not hold back a loud groan. I lay still waiting for the pain to pass.
I was lying on hard bitumen. What had happened? I tried to roll over and push myself up onto my hands and knees, but my shoulders burned, so I stilled all movement. I wanted to lie here and cry. I pressed my eyes closed hoping it would all just end. Too much pain ... just let go ...
My fingers fell to the bitumen surface, and I turned my head. I was lying on the roadway next to a car. I wasn’t in the front yard of my home. I blinked—what had happened? Stitches, a tram ... Andy! He had been next to me, and there was an explosion; not the one at my home—another! Where’s Andy? I think I screamed his name.
Despite the pain, I pulled myself to my feet and leant on the car until I could achieve some sort of balance, the high-pitched ringing still sounding loudly in my ears. Through the thick dust, I could see glowing red flames flickering from the pieces of debris that were alight from the blast. I desperately scanned the vicinity for Andy. A part of my brain was trying to prepare me for the real possibility that my best friend hand been blown up, and that in moments, I would be finding his scattered remains. I pushed that part away; I wouldn’t allow myself to entertain the possibility of Andy being dead.
I staggered towards the tram that now lay on its side amongst burning piles of rubble and debris. The flames of the burning piles illuminated the dust, showing me the true extent of damage from the blast: buildings had crumbled, spilling their bricks onto the street; shop signs lay bent and crushed along the roadway, and people ... I gasped as I clapped my hand over my mouth. Bodies lay in pieces scattered amongst the debris. The smell of burning human flesh made my stomach convulse. I fell to my hands and knees as I vomited over the bitumen, my arms shaking as I tried to hold my body weight.
I heard a person cry through the wreckage. I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled towards the sound. All I could think of was Andy’s face, burned and cut, his body broken and dismembered ...
“Hello?” I called hoarsely, and strained my eyes through the thick dust, searching for any sign of movement.
Another cry came from behind the tangled remnants of the tram. I quickened my pace as I carefully edged myself around debris and broken bodies to the side of the tram. I could see someone waving their arm in the air. I knew instantly, it wasn’t Andy; the person’s arm was too petite to be his. I clambered over burning rocks and pieces of scolding tram until I reached the person—it was Suravi. A piece of metal tubing had been blown apart and had become lodged in her lower abdomen. I fell to my knees and wrapped my shaking hands around it with intentions of pulling it from her. She shook her head weakly. I pulled my shaking hands away from the tubing and looked down to the rest of her body; one side of her was nothing but charred flesh. I pressed my hands to either side of my face as I looked at her. She was shivering in agony. I wanted to help her, just as she had done for me, but I knew she was beyond any help I could give.
A gurgling noise came from deep within her throat as she gasped for air. I wrapped my hands around her hand—the one that still had skin attached. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, that she was going to be alright, but I knew she would not survive. All I could do was to stay with her and not let her die alone. She looked at me, and her lips pulled at the sides into a small smile. She squeezed my hand gently as her lips fell and her eyes dropped. I felt her hand go limp in mine. Her eyes no longer looked at me with any emotion; they were empty. I had never witnessed anyone die before. I had always held my doubts as to whether we do have a soul or spirit within us, but after seeing the light leave her eyes, I now believed it was true.
I leant across and gently pushed her eyelids closed. She looked to be sleeping. She wasn’t. She was dead.
I heard a loud snap from behind me. I turned quickly to see a figure walking toward me through the dust and burning rubble. I winced as I began to push myself from the ground. My first thought was that it was Andy, and a burst of relief shot through me as I watched him come closer to me. He was okay! He was alive and moving. I was about to call to him when I realised the body of this person was by far larger than Andy, and he was moving too freely to have been involved in the explosion. Some sense within me knew danger. I threw myself behind a nearby car, praying he hadn’t seen me. I pushed myself hard against the car, tucking my legs to my chest, breathing with shallow breaths. His footsteps continued toward me. As I sat pressed against the car, I noticed bodies lying on the footpath just across the road. I could see an arm move—someone was alive! As I looked more carefully, I was able to make out the distinctive shape of my crossbow lying next to the arm that had just moved. It was the arm of a man—Andy! It must be Andy lying there!
I slowly rolled over so that I could peer under the car to the other side. Through the air gap beneath the dust, I could see black combat boots moving closer to the car—The Aztec! I pressed my eyes and lips closed. How could he possibly find us here, now?
I sat back against the car and looked again to Andy, who remained motionless on the footpath. I stared at my crossbow lying only centimetres from his outstretched hand. If I had hold of the bow, I would at least be able to defend myself and Andy. Damn, damn, damn! The bow was so close—but so far. If I did try to dash for it, The Aztec would see me.
Andy’s foot began to move as he was coming out of his unconscious state. I was torn between my feeling of relief that he was alive and my feeling of terror that The Aztec would see him too and kill him.
A gentle breeze blew past me, bringing with it the smell of trees of all the ancient forests of the world; the smell of Derrek. No, the smell of The Aztec. I had to force his memory from my mind; the memory of him holding me closely in the bookstore, of him pushing me from harm’s way in the street. They weren’t real. That wasn’t him. He was only pretending to be Derrek. Derrek didn’t exist. It was only The Aztec. I unwillingly breathed in the intoxicating smell of him, and as soon as I did so, I could feel my soul being drawn to him. I wanted to give myself over to him. I tried to draw back memories of what he had done to me at my house, but as soon as I remembered them, they were replaced by my greater need to be with him. I tried holding my breath, forcing myself not to inhale his scent. But it made no difference. It wasn’t just his smell; I was drawn to him for another reason, one that I could not explain.
Andy bent his knees up as he started to return to the conscious world, letting out a long moan as he came around. The Aztec heard him as loudly as I did, and instantly stopped edging around the car near me and turned to the direction of Andy. The overwhelming desire to give myself freely to The Aztec subsided with the intense fear of what he would do to Andy if he managed to capture him. I needed my crossbow—I needed to protect Andy, just as he had done for me. Abde’s words resonated in the front of my mind: ‘You will love him until you draw your last breathe.’ That may have been so, but love or no love, I would not let him kill Andy.
I stared at my bow, trying to figure a way of retrieving it without him seeing me. “Alexandra? Oh, Alexandra ... I know you are here, my darling.” Her voice sleeked through the dust-filled air. “Come out and play.”
This couldn’t be happening! Andy was unconscious with The Aztec only metres from him, and now Veronika was here! I frantically sought some means to escape. I could hear the heels of her shoes click along the road, coming closer.
“Why do you hide, Alexandra? I am with you, always.”
The eyes appeared in my mind, the searing pain rippled through my head like never before. The pain was too much to bear. I let out a piercing scream.
I felt someone slide their arms under my legs and shoulders and lift me from the ground. I couldn’t ope
n my eyes to see who it was—the pain was unbearable. It had to be Andy. He had regained consciousness and was carrying me to safety.
A moment later the eyes were gone, and I was dropped to the ground.
“Get up! Run!” Andy screamed at me as he hauled me from the ground.
I remained unresponsive for a moment as I realised what had happened. It wasn’t Andy who scooped me from the ground at all; it was The Aztec, who was now lying face down on the road with a piece of metal debris through his back. A pool of blood was growing around him. It made me think of the bookstore—he had saved me that night, but then treated me savagely. How is it possible that he could be so wonderful, and be a monster at the same time?
“Alexandra! Run! She’s here!”
I couldn’t move. I just stared at The Aztec. Was he dead?
“For Christ’s sake Alexandra! Snap out of it!” He slapped my face. “Run!”
I blinked several times as he drew me back to reality. He grabbed my arm and dragged me through the debris, further and further away from the wreckage.
“Alexandra!” Veronika’s voice echoed through the desolate city. She wasn’t following us.
“Andy. Stop,” I said as I turned back to face the explosion site. “Why isn’t she chasing us? She had such a strong hold on me, and then it was just gone. What happened?”
“I don’t know. Keep moving,” he said. “Maybe it was because I killed him. Abde said death was the only separator.”
I thought of The Aztec, and I wanted to hate him, I wanted to despise him. I wanted to feel nothing but joy that his life had been stripped from him. But I couldn’t. In spite of everything that had happened, and all that he had done, I felt only pain at his loss. I wanted to fall to my knees and weep for his passing. I wanted to pray for him to be given back to me.
“So he’s definitely dead?” I asked.
“I bloody well hope so! I have to say, that was one of the best feelings ... killing that bastard. He’s never going to hurt you again.”
“Yeah, I’m glad he’s dead,” I said with little conviction.