The Hole (35 page)

Moroni finished rising from the waters of the Great Salt Lake and hovered over the temple, a god atop his throne. It’s body rippled and writhed, the hands along the underside holding fast to the stone, while those across the top grasped futilely at the air. Steam rose from it and washed over Elliot and Evajean. And then, out of the cacophony hands, a voice emerged.

I DESPISE YOU, it said, in a myriad of pitches and volumes. I HAVE DESPISED YOU SINCE I FIRST WAS.

Elliot ignored it and kept walking. Evajean paused only a moment before following. She caught up to walk along side him, taking his hand again. The light was blinding now, Moroni only visible as a silhouette.

YOU ARE NOT READY FOR THIS, the god continued. TURN BACK AND I SHALL CALL OFF MY ARMIES. TURN BACK AND I WILL PROTECT YOU.

Elliot shook his head. “No,” he said softly.

I WAS FIRST, Moroni said. The arms twisted and snatched at the sky, more frantic than before. THE OTHER IS AN IMPOSTOR. HE WILL NOT SAVE YOU. YOU ONLY GIVE THE WORLD OVER TO HIM.

“Others will see that he fails, too,” Evajean said. They were half way up the side of the temple, Moroni’s bulk blocking out the sun. The light filled the cave of flesh and stone.

YOU CANNOT DO THIS. YOU ARE NOT ABLE. YOU WILL FALTER BEFORE THIS ENDS.

Elliot knew what would happen then and, remembering Callie and Clarine and all the other deaths he’d experienced, he was glad for it. What was left for him? He felt Evajean’s hand relax in his. She knew it, too. They finished their walk.

The hands strained for them as they took their final steps up the pyramid’s slope. But Moroni was forced back by the light.
Mighty and strong
, Elliot thought.
Together we are mighty and strong.
 

The last of the steps passed beneath their feet. They stood on the peak and looked into the sphere of light, the hole through which Moroni had come, the hole they had set out to find.

“Elliot,” Evajean said, and even over Moroni’s screaming the words were clear.

He took her into his arms and, together, they walked through.

* * *
 

The boy blinked. His hands hurt and he dropped the stone he’d been carrying. It was small but its edges were rough and it was heavy for a boy so small. He watched it roll away from his feet, then rubbed his palms on his jeans.

Overhead, the sky flashed, like lightning from everywhere, and then faded to its original color. The boy wondered what that color was, realizing he remembered nothing of where he was or how he’d come to be there. He looked around.

A warehouse was off to his left and on the right was a ring of trailers, shining in the morning sun. He appeared to be alone. Behind him, the skyline of the city was unfamiliar, as was the landscape it rose out of. He recalled seeing pictures in a textbook once, and knew he was in the West. He wondered at this, too, for he’d been born in Boston and spent every year of his life there.

The trailers had windows and doors and looked like tiny houses. He began walking toward them, hoping somebody would be home, somebody who might be able to tell him how he got here.

He made it to the first one and tried the door and found it locked. There were many other trailers, however, and the boy wasn’t concerned. He’d find another person eventually. He wasn’t hunger or thirsty and he didn’t have to pee. He had time.

Three more trailers yielded the same result. He was at the door of the forth, reaching out for the knob, when he heard the sound from inside. There was a scrambling and then a dog barked. The boy smiled. A dog wasn’t as good as a person, but it was good. He grabbed the door and discovered it was unlocked. He pulled it open.

A small, black puppy stood there, staring up at him. The dog began to growl, then stopped and sniffed the air. It glanced up at the boy and yipped. He bent down and reached out with his hand. The dog took a step forward, stretched its neck, and smelled him. Then it barked again.

The boy made a calming noise and patted the animal on the head. The puppy pushed against his hand. “Hi there,” the boy said. The dog cocked its head. “My name’s Rodney. My friends call me Rod.” He rubbed the dog behind the ears. “You can call me Rod if you want.”

The dog nuzzled into his arms. The boy picked it up and scratched its stomach. Then the two of them set out toward the city.

THE END