Chapter 12 #2
Ben and Rebecca lifted the stretcher and resumed their previous positions while Sidney walked next to them with her hand on the phoenix’s side.
Its eyes were barely open now, its fire flickering weakly.
Through his connection to Sidney, Ben could feel the creature’s pain as though it were his own…
along with its desperate hope that they would reach the portal in time.
The forest grew denser as they moved deeper into Silver Hollow’s protected territory.
Ancient trees with trunks wide enough to hide behind rose around them, and thick undergrowth muffled their footsteps.
He estimated they had about two more miles to the ravine system, then another half mile through the ravine before they reached the portal site.
Close. So very close.
But not close enough.
Sidney stumbled, and Ben caught her elbow before she could fall. “Easy. When was the last time you drank any water?”
She made an impatient movement with one hand. “I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.” He pulled out his water bottle and pressed it into her hands. “Drink. The last thing we need is you dehydrated on top of everything else.”
Something in his tone must have gotten through. She drank deeply from the bottle, although her hands shook enough that water sloshed down her chin. The dimensional burns on her arms caught the light as she moved, and he set his jaw.
Those burns were his fault.
“Stop that.” Sidney didn’t raise her voice, but he heard the anger beneath the words.
“Stop what?”
“Stop blaming yourself for the burns. I can feel you guilting yourself, and it needs to stop.” She handed the water bottle back to him, her expression fierce despite her exhaustion.
“I made that choice, Ben. I knew the cost, and I chose you anyway. That’s not something you get to feel guilty about. ”
Maybe she was right. “You shouldn’t have had to choose.”
A small shrug. “Maybe so, but I did. And I’d make the same choice again.” She reached out and found his fingers despite the way his hands were wrapped around one of the stretcher’s poles. “We don’t have time for guilt. Right now, we just need to focus on getting through the next few hours.”
Ben squeezed her hand, then forced himself to let go and focus on the terrain ahead. She was right. Guilt was a luxury they couldn’t afford.
They reached the ravine system a little over an hour later.
The terrain dropped sharply and created a natural channel running southwest toward the portal site.
Water had carved the path over centuries and left smooth stone walls on either side that rose at least fifteen feet above their heads.
The ravine provided good cover, but it was also a funnel.
If DAPI discovered them while they were making their way through, they’d have nowhere to run.
“This is it,” Morse said and paused to double-check the route on her tablet. “From here, we’ll follow the ravine for three-quarters of a mile. It opens into a clearing about a hundred yards from the portal site. That’s where we’ll be exposed.”
“And that’s where we need the diversion,” Sidney said. She knelt beside the phoenix and pressed both hands to the one small patch of clean fire that remained. “How much time do you need to coordinate with Hargrove?”
“Five minutes, maybe ten at the most.” Rebecca pulled out a slim black phone Ben hadn’t seen before.
He didn’t recognize the model and wondered if it was some kind of government issue, something that would allow her to contact Eric Hargrove on a secure channel.
“I’ll move ahead and set up a position where I can see the portal site and confirm the positions of the DAPI agents,” she continued.
“Once I give Eric the signal, it’ll take him around three minutes to trigger the containment failure. ”
“Three minutes.” Ben looked over at Sidney. “That’s how long you’ll have to reach the portal before DAPI realizes the diversion is a distraction.”
Her chin lifted. “No problem. I can cover a hundred yards in three minutes.”
“While you’re already exhausted and carrying a dying phoenix?” He tried to keep his voice level, but he knew his worry had bled through despite his best efforts. “Sidney, be realistic.”
Her clear gray eyes flashed with irritation. “I don’t have the luxury of being realistic.” She stood, her legs shaking slightly. “The phoenix needs to be at the portal when I start the merge. There’s no alternative. So I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
Ben wanted to argue, but movement in the ravine ahead made him freeze. Rebecca had her weapon out immediately, even as she gestured for silence. They all pressed against the stone wall and waited as voices echoed down the channel.
“ — should be getting hazard pay for this. Rosenthal has us posted out here for sixteen hours straight — ”
“Quit complaining. At least we’re getting some real field time instead of pushing papers at HQ.”
Two DAPI agents walking patrol. Ben watched them pass the ravine entrance thirty yards ahead, completely unaware of the three people and dying phoenix pressed into the shadows behind them. Their conversation faded as they moved on into the forest.
“They’re running regular patrols,” Rebecca said in an undertone once the men were out of earshot. “That wasn’t in Eric’s intel. Rosenthal must have adjusted her deployment sometime in the past hour.”
“How does that change our approach?” Sidney asked.
“It doesn’t. We just need to be more careful.
” Rebecca checked her watch. “I’m moving ahead to scout the portal site and coordinate with him.
Give me fifteen minutes, then follow the ravine until you see my signal.
Two quick flashes from a red light means it’s clear to approach.
Anything else, you abort and fall back.”
“And if we don’t see any signal?” Ben asked.
Rebecca Morse gave him a grim smile. “Then something went wrong, and you need to get out of here immediately. Get the phoenix somewhere safe and wait for me to contact you.”
She was gone before either of them could respond, and moved up the ravine with the kind of silent skill that Ben might have admired under different circumstances.
Now, though, he could only think of how alone he and Sidney were.
“We should rest while we have the chance,” he told her. “Drink more water. Eat something if you can.”
Sidney shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Anxiety and fear had probably killed most of her appetite.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try to cajole her into eating.
“I don’t care. You’re about to attempt something that’ll require every ounce of strength you have.
” He pulled an energy bar from his pack, unwrapped it, and pressed it into her hands. “Eat. That’s not a request.”
She didn’t seem to have the strength to argue, so she took the bar and chewed mechanically while Ben checked the phoenix’s condition.
The creature’s breathing was labored, each inhalation a visible struggle.
The corruption had spread even further during their rest stop and left only a patch the size of his palm around the phoenix’s heart still clean.
They were cutting this way too close.
Their margin for error was effectively zero.
If Sidney lost herself even slightly during the merge, if she couldn’t hold on to what made her Sidney Lowell, then she would stay merged forever.
She’d become a hybrid entity with her memories but not her consciousness, something that used to be human but wasn’t anymore.
Ben’s jaw tightened. He’d promised her this morning that he would recognize her no matter what form she wore, that he would be there to help her remember who she was if she needed it.
He’d meant every word. But sitting here in this ravine, watching her force down food she didn’t want while a dying phoenix struggled to breathe beside them, the reality of what she was about to attempt hit him with full force.
He might lose her. Not to DAPI, not to Rosenthal’s forces, but to the merge itself. She might dissolve into dimensional fire and never come back.
“Ben.”
He’d been staring at his hands and thinking how useless they would be during the approaching trial. He looked up and found Sidney watching him, the half-eaten energy bar dangling from her fingers. “I know what you’re thinking. I can feel your fear.”
No point in denying it, not when their connection made it almost impossible to hide anything from her. “I’m scared shitless,” he said frankly. “I’m watching you prepare to sacrifice everything, and there’s nothing I can do to help except stand here and hope you’re strong enough to survive.”
An incongruous smile touched her lips. “You do a lot more than just hope. Your electromagnetic signature stabilizes my abilities, remember?” She reached out to him, her fingers finding his.
“When I start the merge, when I feel myself dissolving into the phoenix’s consciousness, your presence is what I’ll hold on to. That’s kind of a big deal.”
“But it’s not enough.”
“It has to be enough. Because it’s all we have.” She squeezed his hand. The golden glow that appeared whenever they were close shimmered into being as their bioelectric fields synchronized in ways that made her abilities stronger and gave him a sense of her emotional state.
This was partnership. More than romantic, although he knew that mattered, too. This was something deeper, a connection that made them more capable together than they were apart.
His fingers tightened on hers. “Whatever happens during the merge, no matter what you become or how changed you are when you separate, I’m with you. You understand that, right? I’m not leaving you to face this alone.”
“I know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s the only reason I think I can do this. Because you’ll be there.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes with their hands clasped, the glow surrounding them not bright enough to attract attention. The phoenix stirred, and Ben felt a pulse of warmth. Gratitude. Readiness to attempt the impossible because these two humans were crazy enough to try.
He checked his watch. About twelve minutes had passed since Rebecca had left. They should start moving soon and get into position near the ravine exit so they could go the moment the diversion started.
He was helping Sidney to her feet when a slim black phone buzzed inside Rebecca Morse’s pack. She’d left it behind, he realized. She’d kept only her tactical gear and moved ahead to scout.
He pulled out the phone and saw the message notification. An unknown number, but he had to hope only one person knew how to contact this particular phone.
Rosenthal changed deployment. Portal site has 25 agents, not 15. She’s expecting infiltration. Diversion may not be enough. Abort if possible.
Ben stared at the message, and his pulse began to race.
Twenty-five agents meant a force large enough to respond to the diversion and still maintain coverage on the portal site.
Rosenthal had anticipated their approach and reinforced her positions, and now they were walking into a trap far worse than they’d expected.
“What is it?” Sidney asked. She was clearly reading the strain in his expression.
He showed her the message and watched her face go pale. Then her chin gave that determined little lift he knew so well.
“We’re still going,” she said. “We have to. The phoenix doesn’t have time for us to come up with a new plan.”
He’d expected that response, but he still wasn’t ready to give in. “Sidney, twenty-five agents are more than triple what we’re prepared for. Even with the diversion, we’ll be massively outnumbered.”
“I know.” Her gaze met his, intense, as though she was willing him to understand.
“But what other choice do we have? Let the phoenix die? Let the portal network collapse? Let Rosenthal win?” She straightened despite her exhaustion, and Ben thought of the accounts he’d read of warrior women in history.
Boudicca. Joan of Arc. They must have looked much the same as they prepared to go into battle.
“We’re going to complete the ritual. Whatever it takes. ”
He wanted to find another way, a better approach. Anything that didn’t involve walking Sidney directly into an ambush while she was depleted and about to attempt something that might destroy her.
But she was right. They didn’t have alternatives. The phoenix was dying, and the portal network was failing. If they didn’t act now, everything they’d fought for would be lost.
“Then we do it smart,” he said. The time for argument had passed. “We’ll wait for Rebecca’s signal, move during the diversion, and get you to the portal as fast as possible. Once you start the merge, you’re completely vulnerable. So I’ll need to — ”
“Protect me,” Sidney broke in. “I know. That’s what the electromagnetic connection is for. You can sense threats I can’t while I’m merged. You can pull me back if necessary and serve as my link to the physical world.”
“While hoping twenty-five DAPI agents don’t shoot both of us,” he remarked, and she sent him a lopsided grin.
“Yeah, while hoping that.” Her smile faded slightly. “I know it’s not a great plan. But it’s all we have.”
They lifted the phoenix’s stretcher and began to move deeper into the ravine toward the portal site.
The stone walls rose higher here and created lengthy shadows despite the afternoon sun.
Ben counted their steps and measured the distance, calculating how long it would take to cover the exposed ground once they cleared the ravine.
Three minutes. That’s what Rebecca had said. Three minutes between the moment when Eric Hargrove triggered the containment failure and when DAPI realized the diversion was a distraction.
It would have to be enough.
The ravine opened ahead, and afternoon light streamed into the darkness.
Ben could see the forest beyond — the stands of coast redwood and sequoia and oak, the thick carpet of ferns and late-summer wildflowers beneath.
Somewhere past those trees was the portal, the place where he’d first begun to realize the world wasn’t what he’d once thought.
The place where Sidney would dissolve into dimensional fire and hope she could hold on to her humanity long enough to re-form.
A red light flashed twice from the trees ahead. Rebecca Morse’s signal.
Clear to approach.
“Ready?” Ben asked.
Sidney nodded and flashed him a smile meant to be brave but which wavered around the edges. “Let’s save a phoenix.”
They moved forward into the light and carried the dying creature between them, walking toward the ambush they knew was waiting.