Beyond the Reflection’s Edge (13 page)

When the stairway hit the sidewalk, they clambered down
and leaped off. The bridge lifted slowly back to the sky, whining as it rose.

Kelly pointed. “There he is!”

Slowly jogging toward them, Dr. Gordon held a gun close to his side but said nothing.

Nathan took Kelly’s hand and spun in the opposite direction. “Run!” He hustled into the alley where he and Clara had found the limo and pulled Kelly against a brick wall, pinning his own body near the corner.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, panting.

He raised a tight fist, held his breath, and listened. Heavy footsteps drew closer. Kelly pressed a hand against her chest and closed her eyes. When the pounding reached a climax, Nathan leaped out and swung his fist, nailing Gordon square on the cheek and knocking him flat on his back.

Crouching over his body, Nathan searched for the gun, but Gordon’s hands were shrouded in darkness.

“Let’s just run!” Kelly shouted, pulling Nathan’s shirt.

Gordon latched on to Nathan’s pant leg. “Without me, you’ll never get home. You have no idea where you are.”

“We’ll take our chances.” Nathan jerked away and ran down the sidewalk with Kelly. The city of Chicago rose up before them, towers everywhere ascending to dizzying heights. They turned right on Wabash and sprinted alongside the busy street. He listened for their pursuer, but the rumble of an approaching ‘L’ train on the overhead track buried every other sound.

Halting at the first intersection, Nathan wheeled around. Nobody following … yet. They waited for the light to change and tried to blend in with the dozen or so pedestrians as they crossed the street.

A man in a lime green leisure suit and platform shoes approached them. Something gold flashed on his chest, drawing Nathan’s gaze to his open shirt where a gold chain suspended a silver-dollar-sized medallion in the midst of a dense nest of
hair. A movie poster on a building across the street advertised the film
Animal House
opening July 28.

When he and Kelly reached the other side, he looked back again. Gordon jogged toward them, grimacing and favoring a leg.

The light changed. A bus lumbered between them and Gordon, pausing to allow a late–arriving pedestrian on board. A Ford Pinto stopped behind the bus, beeping its shrill horn. Nathan stared at the car. It looked brand new. Spinning back, he pointed at a stairway leading to the train platform. “Let’s catch it while he can’t see us!” They sprinted up the stairs, not daring to look behind them.

When they reached the turnstile, he skidded to a halt and eyed the uniformed attendant leaning against a column and staring off into space. Digging into his pockets, Nathan glanced all around. “What do we need? A ticket? A token?”

Kelly leaped onto the turnstile’s cross bar and vaulted over. The attendant jerked his head toward them and raised a hand. “Hey! You need a —”

“Sorry!” Nathan said, setting his hand on the turnstile. “It’s an emergency!”

He jumped to the other side and dashed up another flight of stairs. After running out onto the passenger platform, he jogged along the line of cars, peering into each window. Where was Kelly? She couldn’t have just disappeared!

A signal chimed. The train was about to leave. At the last car, Kelly pushed out from the inside and wedged her body between the closing doors. “Hurry!” she called, straining against the two panels.

The doors popped open again. Kelly lurched back and fell to her bottom. Just as the panels began to close, Nathan leaped inside and grabbed a support pole to stop his momentum. As he straightened, he kept a grip on the pole, panting. “I think we lost him.”

“Maybe.” With a nod of her head, she gestured toward the front of the train. “I saw a couple of people get on while you were running this way but I couldn’t tell if he was one of them. It was too dark.”

He scanned the nearly empty train. One old man sat in the seat closest to the front access door. As a light snore passed through his nostrils, his chin dropped to his chest and nestled in a coffee stain on his white button–down shirt. A sign above his head warned passengers not to pass between the cars.

Rising to her feet, Kelly smiled. “Good job back there. Did it hurt?”

Nathan lifted his fist and looked at his knuckles, red but not bleeding. “It does now. I didn’t feel a thing when I decked him.”

As the car swayed back and forth, she braced herself against the back of a seat and peered out the window. “If he didn’t get on this train, he’s sure to follow on the next one.”

“Let’s get off pretty soon. He won’t be able to guess where we stopped.”

Sliding into a window seat, she fanned her face with her hand. “Give me a few minutes to catch my breath. I’m not an experienced spy like you.”

He pushed a section of a newspaper off the seat next to her and sat down, gazing at the darkened skyline. “What do you mean? You did great.”

“No, I didn’t.” She crossed her arms and shivered. “I was scared to death!”

“So? You don’t think I was scared?”

“You didn’t act like it.”

“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t. I just did what I had to do. There wasn’t much choice.”

“I guess that’s true.” Yawning, she rested her head against the window and closed her eyes. “I feel a little better knowing you were scared, too.”

“Glad I could help.” He looked at the newspaper on the floor at his feet, and his gaze fell across the bold type above an article — “Nightmare Epidemic Continues.” He tried to read the smaller type but couldn’t make it out.

Just as he reached for it, a whisper buzzed through Kelly’s barely parted lips. “Do you think your parents were in those coffins?”

He straightened. “I don’t see how. When that reflection of myself looked into the coffin, he never said a word about the bodies belonging to my parents.”

“You’re right.” Her voice trailed away. Seconds later, her breathing turned heavy and rhythmic.

Nathan gazed at her pale skin and let out a quiet sigh. No wonder she was tired. Anybody would be worn out after that chase. His own first narrow escape pumped so much adrenaline through his body, he slept for half a day when he got home. And, not being purposefully trained as he had been, Kelly’s fear was even more understandable. Facing death wasn’t for the fainthearted, and even now he couldn’t avoid a rash of jitters when his life was on the line.

He settled back and gazed at the tall, boxy skyscrapers outside, each one filled with hundreds of square lights aligned in perfect rows and columns. With fear still lurking somewhere in his mind, one of those odd training sessions seeped in from his memories. The orderly matrix of lights morphed into one of the many spreadsheets he had worked on for his father, countless numbers in precise arrays. As the moon cast shadows across the rumbling train, his father’s voice pierced the veil of long-lost recollections.

His father leaned one hand against Nathan’s desk. “It’s almost midnight. Everything’s ready for your jump.”

Nathan kept his fingers on his computer’s keyboard. “But I haven’t finished the financial statement yet.”

“That can wait. Numbers aren’t as important as this step in your training.”

“But this’ll take me at least —”

“Nathan.” His voice deepened but stayed calm. “Are you really worried about getting the report done?”

Nathan shook his head, still watching the screen. “No. Not really.”

His father’s shadow glided to the other side of his desk. “It’s no shame to admit that you’re scared.”

“Okay.” He looked up at him, firming his chin. “I admit it. I’m scared.”

“Good.” His father’s bushy eyebrows pressed toward his nose. “Measured fear is healthy, even vital.”

“Why aren’t you ever scared of anything?”

“Who says I’m not? I’ve been scared lots of times.”

“When? I’ve never seen it.”

“Last month. Remember the snipers on the rooftops?”

“How could I forget? I about had a heart attack!”

“Me, too.” His father laid a hand on his chest. “My heart pounded louder than bongo drums.”

“You didn’t show it. You stayed as cool as ice.”

“You’re right. I didn’t show it. But staying cool, as you call it, doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared.”

“What do
you
call it?”

“I would say it’s a combination of faith and courage. If you really believe you have an immovable foundation, even if you plunge through a thousand evils, you know you will eventually land in a place of safety.”

“But you’re scared while you’re falling, right?”

“Many times, yes.” His father rolled his hand into a fist and tapped lightly on his breast. “Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the ability to control fear and do what you have to do in spite of it. If you have faith in the one who calls you to a task, you just do it and trust that he’ll get you out of a jam.”

Nathan grinned. “Is this speech supposed to talk me into jumping without shaking in my boots?”

He gave Nathan’s shoe a gentle kick. “Shake in your boots all you want. I told you it’s voluntary. You can back out if you think you’re not ready.”

After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Nathan turned off the computer monitor. “I’m ready.”

A few minutes later, Nathan climbed through the darkness and reached the top rung of a ladder that leaned against his two-story house. After stepping carefully onto the nearly invisible roof, he walked up to the top of the angled shingles and slid close enough to the edge to peek at the driveway below. He cringed at the sight. Shrouded in darkness, it had to be at least twenty-five feet down.

At ground level, his father waved a flashlight, guiding it along the cracks in the driveway. “Remember,” he called. “Although it looks like certain injury or death awaits you if you jump, it is an illusion, as are all things you see with your eyes that violate the sacred truths you have learned.”

His father laid a hand over his heart. “I make you a solemn promise that your fall will be softened enough to prevent all injury. If you trust me, you will put aside your fears and take a step in the progress of your faith. If not, you are free to turn around and come down. I won’t be angry if you decide not to jump. It would just mean that you’re not quite ready for this step.” He raised a clenched fist. “But I believe in you. I think you’re ready.”

Scuffing his shoes against the gritty surface, Nathan edged to the precipice and looked down. Only bare concrete lay at the bottom, no sign of a trampoline, mattresses, or a net of any kind. Anyone else would think he was crazy for even considering such a feat. And besides that, what father in his right mind would ask his son to do anything so crazy?

He nodded. Solomon Shepherd would. Although his father’s
training methods were unique, no one could say that Nathan was unprepared for the dangerous adventures that often faced him. And this next step would be yet another preparation. If he could overcome fear, the next death-defying leap would be much easier. His father had never failed him before. It didn’t make sense to doubt him now.

Taking a deep breath and holding it, Nathan jumped, keeping his eyes open as he plunged. The dark concrete seemed to transform, changing rapidly to something with more depth. His feet struck a soft, rubbery surface, like dense gray foam. It bent downward, slowing his momentum until he touched the ground as gently as if he had been placed there by a loving hand.

As the material began to bounce back, he leaped to the side and landed on the grass bordering the driveway. Waving his arms to keep his balance, he groped for something to catch. A strong hand clutched his wrist, steadying him. Nathan swung toward the grip and caught sight of his father.

His eyes glistening with tears, his father wrapped Nathan in a powerful hug. “Never forget two things,” he said, his voice shaking. “One, you are a courageous young man. And, two, as God gives me strength, I will always keep my promises.”

A scratchy voice broke Nathan out of his reverie. The driver announced the next stop from a hidden speaker, but it was too garbled to understand. As the train rounded a curve, the front half bent into sight, every car slowing as it approached a well-lit platform. A dark-suited man passed from car number two to three and limped toward the back of the train.

Nathan shook Kelly. “Time to go!”

“What?” She jerked away from the window and wagged her head sleepily. “I had this horrible dream, I —”

“Later.” He crouched and pulled her into the aisle. “Gordon’s found us.”

Staying low, Nathan and Kelly scuffled behind a partition next to the side exit door. As the train slowed to a crawl, Nathan peeked past the rows of seats to the car directly in front of theirs. No sign of him yet.

“Ready to jump?” he asked.

Kelly took in a breath and rocked back and forth on her toes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The train finally came to a halt. Gordon burst through the door between the two cars and limped toward them, aiming a handgun. “Don’t move or you’re dead!”

Nathan froze. Kelly grabbed his arm, her hot breaths puffing against his neck as the side door slid open.

Gordon pressed the gun barrel against Kelly’s brow, the purple vein on his forehead again pulsing. “Give it up, or I’ll blow her brains right out of her skull. Just come with me. Mictar wants to see you.”

With a quick slap under Gordon’s wrist, Nathan pushed his weapon arm straight up, then kicked him in the groin. Gordon bent over, and as he tried to aim the gun again, Nathan kicked him in the face, sending him in a backwards somersault through the aisle.

Nathan grabbed Kelly’s hand, lunged for the loading platform, and hit the ground running. They scrambled down the stairway and sprinted along a sidewalk in a construction zone,
leaping over broken concrete and dodging orange barricades as a few streetlights guided their way.

He spotted a dark alley across the street. “That way!” he said, pointing. While waiting for several cars to pass, he looked back toward the ‘L’ station. Gordon limped down the stairs and gazed at the sidewalk in the other direction.

“I don’t think he’s seen us yet.” Bending as low as he could, Nathan pulled Kelly along as he crept across the street and into the alley. In front of them and on both sides, brick buildings stretched to four stories high. A fire escape rode up the wall to the left, similar to the metal stairway they had used for their earlier getaway.