NFTF: Conflagration II

For a time, there is only silence. The world is breathing, taking stock of its injuries.

A great rumbling is heard, then felt. Several of the soldiers, the two wounded monks, even the creatures being herded toward the barns and their pursuers are thrown to the ground. 

The monks feel it the moment their hands touch earth. 

East of them, beyond the raging inferno of Mt. Diablo, another fault has slipped. Reaching well into the delta via Marsh Creek, this fault has opened a gorge larger and deeper than the one which devoured 580. It extends from the delta along that fault into the far eastern end of Livermore and Trevarno (the town that time forgot, clearly sensed by the monks, a mystery within a Quincunx conundrum), right up toward Del Valle and along the canyon next to Mines Road where it curves up toward San Antonio Valley. Old gas mains under vineyards are ruptured. Entire neighborhoods are destroyed in seconds.

Water from the delta rushes into the gorge. It will begin to fill the valley from that end within hours. 

An old man, his beard grown long in the time it has taken him to get back to this place and step into a house recently vacated by his younger self, sips his tea as the walls crack and just keeps writing. If I can only get to her in time, he writes. Can the rift hold?

A canny old witch in Trevarno sees all of this in her obsidian scrying ball. The monks see her see them. She winks. They've heard her radio show.

Hordes of beastling creatures swarm into the area between the barns, and battle is engaged. The monks stagger to their feet, dizzy and disorientated. All around them are vintage soldiers and nurses, the howling wolflings in various sizes, and two elephant-sized dogs, both favoring their back left legs.

The monks stumble to the dairy barn, pulling open the very door Veronica used to get in. A great deep bark sounds and the wall is blasted apart as Max the Wonderdog leaps through.

Veronica sits astride his shoulders, holding tight his gigantic red collar. A shiny brass dog tag jingles against two copper amulets covered in esoteric symbols. He howls. The other two Wonderdogs howl. 

The sky bellows thunder of the gods, ripping open as a vast zeppelin noses through, wreathed in lightning and firing precise bolts of copper-colored energy from galvanized Tesla guns. Wolflings are incinerated by the hundreds.

A man's voice cries out from the firelit night in the field, "Dirigibles, now?! Really?!" This is followed by a woman's laugh.

The monks sink to their knees as the three giant dogs, under the command of the fierce crossbow-wielding woman astride one of them, join the forces from another time to lay waste to the creatures of nightmare. 

From within the fire which has devoured most of the field now lumbers the impossibly tall, burning, screeching figure of the Oaken lady. Before the Wonderdog closest to her can smack her back into the fire, she launches herself at the zeppelin, her flaming, jagged branches tearing into the envelope near the aft propellers. The zeppelin bursts into flame, falling to the ground.

Lady Henrietta cries out to her forces to fall back.

The three Wonderdogs leap back toward the barns, one grabbing Petherbridge and Elfie, the other grabbing an old man. These are hunting dogs. Their soft mouths do not hurt the people in their care. 

The man and the woman sprint after Max the Wonderdog as he picks up Talmadge, the flaming dirigible coming down above them as they run. They can hear its crackling Tesla guns, the shriek and whine of propellers tangled in broken branches. Wielding their machetes in a ballet of deadly grace, they slice through every evil creature they pass, taking off heads, arms, faces, engorged and thorny cocks. This pair are torn, ragged, bloody, bruised. But they run. They run and they do not stop, even as they hear the back end of the zeppelin crashing to the ground just behind them, even as they know that it must fall and crush them in the next few seconds.

The world is fire and ash and screaming metal. An old stile still stands next to a cattle fence and the couple throw themselves up it, leaping from the highest step and simultaneously beheading two full-grown wolfbeasts who rear up to attack from where they've been devouring vintage nurses.

The zeppelin, caught in the branches of Oaken Iron Rachel, misses crushing their skulls by milimeters. They land, rolling forward, coming to their feet in battle stance as the airship crashes to the earth behind them, dealing death to the majority of the nightmares still on the field. Just as it erupts in a final ball of fire, the front hatch explodes open in smoke and sparks, slamming to the ground a little tilted, its inner side a set of steps now leading to the burned and bloody earth beneath.

The woman astride the giant dog raises her crossbow.

The Rancher hefts the axe he's acquired since leaving the ridge.

The man and woman crouch, ready to attack.

Lady Henrietta inhales to give the order.

A man in a aviator cap, goggles and flight leathers steps with his back to them from within the control car, coughing and waving at the smoke with his white silk scarf. The control car is belching smoke. He turns, takes a step down, holding on to the railing of the hatch door. 

Every weapon in the hands of every survivor is pointed at this man.

He laughs aloud, tossing his head.

"Now how's that for a Deus Ex Machina!?" he shouts. Something explodes behind him and he's thrown forward to the ground, shouting, "Motherfucker!" 

The assembled survivors make a collective gasping whoa sound at the explosion. All but three of them. One of those three is hardly breathing, trying to keep her crossbow still. 

The man climbs to his feet, shaking his head. Once he's steady, he lifts his goggles. There is at least one gasp from within the assembled crowd.

"Oh, come on," he says, grinning from within his singed goatee and moustache, his face clean around his eyes, blackened by soot and dirt where the goggles didn't cover. "Isn't anyone going to acknowledge the inherent awesomeness of me landing in a dirigible?"

"Tad?!" this from at least two voices.

"Hold your fire!" shouts Lady Henrietta.

The three giant Wonderdogs leap forward, knocking him to the ground and kissing him with many good dog kisses, pinning him down. Veronica is trying to dismount, but her steed is too full of canine exuberance.

"Good God, there's three of you!" he shouts. "Pfaaaawh, are you all determined to put your tongue in my -- khougggh -- I guess that's a yes."

The burning airship sends up another gout of flame. Veronica's mount carries the newcomer in his mouth toward the barns, away from the heat; the other dogs and the remaining survivors follow. Veronica throws herself to the ground and into the newcomer's arms as the warrior wife and her husband arrive behind her. Lady Henrietta stands a little behind them.

"Edward's trajectory has changed," she says. "New growth from the very old bark of this saga." One of the Wonderdogs turns, looking her in the eyes, and grins, drooling. Dogs are the only species who can drool and look intelligent at the same time, she thinks.

At long, long last, Edward and Veronica kiss. And though his facial hair is burned and their faces are smeared with blood and soot and dirt, their tears make it the sweetest and best kiss, the most true kiss either of them has ever known. Or ever will.

"I told you I would come back," he says, and she hugs him so hard his back pops like a stretchy straw. "Wow. Thanks, I needed that," he says, and sees the couple behind her. "Joshua," he says to the man. "I see you got here on time."

"We had a little trouble on the ridge," Josh says. "Your sister almost beheaded me twice."

"I told him to bring the fucking rock salt," says the woman. 

Veronica has only had eyes for Edward. She turns at the sound of this voice and cries out, delighted, throwing her arms around the other woman. "Hillary!"

"Damn right," says Hillary. "Sorry it took us so fucking long. Oakland? Obstacles. That's all I'm sayin'."

They laugh, the burning airship sends up another gout of flame. Some of the crowd laugh too, and they all move back toward the barns, away from the heat. Quiet voices murmur amazement, too uncertain of their victory to speak loudly. Edward steps up onto an old wagon, limping a little. Veronica and Lady Henrietta each see this, exchanging a glance that says, It's really him. Veronica sees something in Lady Henrietta's eyes that makes her wonder exactly where Tad has been while he's been elsewhere. Then he holds his hand out to her and she takes it, stepping up onto the wagon next to him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he calls out. The murmuring ceases. "We have limited time. By now, the Greenville / Marsh Creek Fault has broken open at the eastern end of the valley. The Livermore end of the valley will flood entirely within the next three days. If any of you are Rachels or Ezekiels who still have family or loved ones in the region, we need to send rescue parties to them immediately. This is, I'm sorry to tell you, only the beginning. The coming changes will alter this nation, and this world, forever."

One of the Rachels speaks. Veronica sees that it's Nice Rachel, the first one to help her back, what was that, a week ago? Before the world went insane, at any rate.

"How do you know all this?" Nice Rachel calls out. Edward turns to her, smiling, his left hand around Veronica's waist.

"Rachel, don't you know?" he asks, grinning and cocky as ever, his arm suddenly light on Veronica's hip. She turns to look at it, sees his hand growing translucent. She turns to look at his face as he says, "I'm a Time Traveler, and I don't even need a little blue box!" 

Edward throws his head back, laughing.

Then he disappears. Not with a pop, like before. He simply winks out of existence.

*********

[The following is an excerpt from an audio journal of voice memos made some days after the quake. It was made while driving around to every known road out of Livermore, including those leading into Trevarno, to see which would be the best route. Though originally posted some time ago, it is included here because the transcriber has noted some slight alterations in the text. Any theories aimed at an explanation are welcome. Only the altered portion of the transcript is included.]

[Sound: We hear Veronica walk around to trunk of car. As she does, we hear the engine of a large pickup truck as it pulls up nearby.]

Voice in Truck: Now, are you folks okay?

Edward: We're ... fine. I just got a little dizzy, is all.

Voice: In trying times like these, faith ... can be its own reward.

Edward: Thank you. 
              I'm Edward. Edward --

Veronica: (interrupting) Water.
                                   Who's this?

Voice: Mayberry. Torvald Mayberry. Doctor of Divinity.

Veronica: Like the candy?

Mayberry: Oh, sweeter. Surely. And the Lord's work may be done any day. No matter the weather.

[A silence. Ravens cry in the distance.]

Mayberry (cont.): The candy, I understand, requires low humidity.

Edward: Dr. Mayberry is correct, honey.

Veronica: We should be on our way.

Mayberry: Wouldn't want to keep you.

Edward: Do you ... do you know the best way West from here? We're trying to get to Hayward.

Mayberry: I hear Bollinger is the safest way across 680. Head there directly, the sooner the better. I can't guarantee that it will be safe when you arrive, of course. We all have our trials to bear, don't we, Veronica?

Veronica: Yes ... of course.

Mayberry: And they do ... take their toll ...

Veronica: We should go.

Edward: Yes.

Mayberry: See you farther on down the road, then.

Edward: The way things are going since the quake, I'm not so sure.

Mayberry: Oh ... it's a date. I promise.


Veronica: Dr. Mayberry, are you okay?

Mayberry: I can honestly say that I haven't felt this good in a long, long time. Why do you ask?

Veronica: For a moment, you looked like you were in pain. Your face, it looked ...

Mayberry: I have this beast of a headache. Sometimes it feels like my skull's fit to crack open. I'm actually headed back to stop it right now, good people.
     For Lo, he did see that the harlot was perceptive
     And it did fill him with lustful dread.
So saith the Prophet ...

[Nobody speaks for a moment. Ravens cry in greater numbers, closer.]

Mayberry (cont.): So Saith The Lord. You would do well to remember that.

Veronica: Thanks. Drive carefully.

[Sound of car door opening.]

Mayberry: Bye, now, Tad.

[Sound: pickup truck revs, drives away.
We hear Edward and Veronica getting back into the Honda. Edward in driver's seat. Honda starts, pulls forward to stop sign, brakes, left turn signal clicking.]

Veronica:That guy was creepy.

Edward: Did you hear what he just said? He called me Tad.

Veronica: What? No.

Edward: He did. He called me Tad. How did you not hear that?

Veronica: Definitely a weirdo. But maybe you were hearing things.

Edward: People who are sane do not just "hear things."

Veronica: And you would be ...

Edward: Hey, I'm not the one advocating a trip to Hayward. Did we introduce you? I think he called you by name as well.

Veronica: Huh. Wow. I think you're right. Creeper of Divinty.

Edward: This makes me reconsider heading to Hayward.

Veronica: I thought we'd agreed.

Edward: When Reverend Creepy grins at me like he wants to tongue my soul, I question the validity of his directions. 

Veronica: You have a point. Maybe we can cross 680 farther North?

Edward: Maybe. 

Veronica: We'll discuss it. For now, let's go to Safeway, see if the lines for gas are too long. Then I think it's lunchtime.

[Sound: Honda accelerates, turning left, turn signal stops clicking.
Wind in open car windows.
Alison Krauss, 'I Will'. Veronica hums along.]
When the song is over, Veronica sighs.]

Edward: Why such a sigh?

Veronica: Because even when it feels like the world is ending, I am happy just to be here with you.

[Sound: a smooch on a cheek.
Driving. 
Ravens via Doppler effect. 
Recording cuts out.]

The End