Alicia looked behind them. “He’s catching us! Paul, hurry! Drop it!”
Marcus held the flash drive and the spear in one hand. He opened the door all the way and leaned out, beyond the skids. He felt instant heat, as if he’d opened the door to a blast furnace. Marcus dropped the flash drive and spear, both falling far below and into the seething red and orange lake of fire. “Let’s go!”
Waterton accelerated, moving quickly across the wide mouth of Etna. He could see the chase helicopter was less than three hundred yards behind him.
Kazim gripped the pistol with one hand and flew the helicopter over the lip of the crater. He pointed the barrel in the direction of his target and fired two shots. Both missed as he dipped the helicopter to adjust the trajectory with his speed.
Waterton cleared the other side of the crater, his breathing labored, stomach filling with waves of nausea. “Hang in there!” Marcus shouted.”
“I’m bloody trying! We’re clear from Etna’s blowhole!”
Kazim’s helicopter was in the center of the volcano’s mouth. He cursed Marcus and tried to accelerate faster, sweat dripping from his face, the hot wind howling through the hole in the windshield.
Alicia and Marcus looked back just as Etna exploded. An enormous ball of orange fire blew up from the crater. The heat and force of the explosion disintegrated Kazim’s helicopter. The blackened shell dropped into the mouth of the volcano.
The energy from the scorching blast rocked Waterton’s helicopter like a leaf caught in a tornado. The helicopter bucked and pitched, almost rolling end over end in midair, the powerful kinetic force against the rotors pushing the helicopter far away from Etna. There was a second, larger explosion spewing fire, red lava and rocks a half mile above the summit. Etna disgorged flames and lava as if it were an enormous fountain of fire, the blast witnessed for more than a hundred miles in any direction.
Marcus glanced over at Waterton. Blood trickled from the pilot’s mouth. He was losing consciousness. He looked back at Marcus and said, “Use your feet for the blades…they have to work together. The controller in the center is the gas…like the throttle on a motorcycle…and this…the cyclic is how you aim her.” He smiled. “How’d we do?”
Marcus blinked, his eyes watering. “We did fine…and you did great.” He touched the top of the man’s hand.
Waterton nodded, pressed the button to unbuckle his harness, and died in his seat. The helicopter started a slow spiral.
Alicia looked at Marcus. “Can you fly it?”
“I don’t know. I have to get behind the wheel.” Marcus gripped the cyclic as the helicopter began spinning faster. He pulled Waterton’s body from the pilot’s seat and climbed in fighting to bring the helicopter under control. It pitched violently in the air. Alicia saw blue sky then the earth rush up. More sky. Then the enormous fire from Etna in the distance. Then the sea. They were close to the sea.
Marcus fought the controls. He worked the pedals with his feet, trying to find a balance. He gripped the cyclic to stabilize his direction. He was dizzy and disoriented from the spinning. It was as if the helicopter was caught in a vortex he couldn’t break.
“Paul…” Alicia reached up from the back seat and placed her hand on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and prayed — prayed harder than she ever had in her life. Through tearing eyes, she said, “I love you, Paul.”
Seconds later, the helicopter crashed into the blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The force threw Alicia into the front of the helicopter, her head slamming violently against the console. Blood poured from a large gash. Marcus grabbed her, pressing one hand to her bleeding forehead. She was unconscious. Marcus could smell fuel mixing with seawater, and the sound of hot engine parts touching the incoming water. “Alicia!”
No response.
“It’s going to be okay. Breathe! Damn it! Breathe!”
The sea poured into the cockpit. Alicia was still, like a ragdoll in Marcus’s arms. “Don’t die! Please!” He tried to wipe the blood from her face, the water rising, covering his waist. He reached for the radio, keying the microphone. “Mayday!” he shouted. “Mayday! We need help!” No signal. The radio was dead. He dropped the mic and held Alicia as the water swirled around them. Marcus tried to move. He looked around, scanning the front and back area of the helicopter, looking for life preservers. Nothing but rising water. Marcus held Alicia’s head above the water and tried to kick out the door.
Within seconds, the helicopter tilted, cantering to the far left. Marcus looked up through the shattered window at the hard blue sky. “Please! God! Don’t let her die. Please! I can’t lose her…not now…not again.” Marcus wept, holding Alicia’s head to his chest, the water swirling around them as the broken helicopter shuddered and sank into the emerald sea. “No!” Marcus used both legs, now kicking at the splintered glass, in one final attempt to free them as the sunlight dimmed beneath the surface of the ocean.
ONE-HUNDRED-SEVENTEEN
Paul Marcus could see only black. He heard the crackle of police and emergency radios in the distance. When he opened his eyes, it was still dark. The stars were so close a man could reach out and touch them. So bright and alive with light. He was cold, lying on his back, looking into the heavens when a meteor cut a blistering path in the inky sky.
“Damn shame,” he heard one of the medics say. “The whole family murdered. The woman and little girl probably first…and then the man. If we could have been here five minutes earlier…maybe it would have made a difference, at least for the husband. Looks like he bled out from the stab wound on the right side of his chest.”
No! I’m not dead! Marcus wanted to say. But he could not form any words. Only thoughts, visions…visions of places he’d never been. People he’d never met. How long had he been lying here, in the cold and rain? Why did he pull over to help the man? Why! Why! Why! Tiffany and Jen would be home in bed if…”
They pulled something over him — a white sheet. The stars were gone. Black enveloped him, and then there was a single light in the distance cloaked in absolute quiet. He free-fell through a dimension with no traceable reference to time and place. He was drenched in light, naked, his entire being an open book. He felt no fear.
Paul Marcus felt absolute love.
His grandmother stood next to him, hand extended, smiling. She spoke without moving her lips. “You did it, Paul…you did it…I love you.” He reached for her just as she smiled again and faded away, the light growing stronger. Then he could see the compassionate face of Bahir, eyes warm and reassuring. Marcus tried to say something. He couldn’t talk. His thoughts seemed to transmit with no need to speak them.
The light slowly faded, and the cries of sea gulls seemed far away.
Someone lifted a cool, damp cloth over his face.
Marcus was on his back, the sound of breakers, the smell of the sea, the scent of olive blossoms and hibiscus in the breeze. He opened his eyes and used one hand to remove the cloth from his face.
Alicia was lying next to him twenty-five meters inland from the beach.
Please be alive, Marcus thought, crawling to her. God, let her be alive. He lifted her head, gently, using one hand to wipe the wet sand from her lips and forehead. He could feel a pulse, slow but strong. Her eyes fluttered a second, and then opened. Her head and face were bruised and cut.
Alicia tried to smile. “Paul, what happened? Where are we?” She glanced to the left and right. There were islands in the distance, volcanic cliffs jutting up from the sea. “How’d we get here?” Her voice was raspy.
Marcus looked around the area. “I don’t know. Maybe we’re on an island.”