CHAPTER 20

            “So Harold, I’ve been wondering,” Jack said as he followed a few paces behind Hyde on their way to the airstrip. Harold took up the rear. “Do you not believe in God, or just not in organized religion?” The trio’s feet made crackling noises as they charged through the undergrowth. Harold took a long moment to collect his thoughts. He cleared his voice before he spoke. Harold the professor.

            “I believe that religion is culturally and historically important. It helped people, for a time, explain things that they didn’t understand. Why there was day and night, good and evil, why killing and stealing was wrong, and so forth. For some it was also a sort of emotional and psychological placebo, a silver lining to the dark clouds of life’s tragedy. But when science began coming to the fore, religion was slowly made obsolete. You didn’t need a God to explain the Earth’s rotation around the Sun; there were physical laws that explained it. And when Darwin published Origin of the Species in 1859 and explained the mechanics of evolution, well, that was the final nail in the coffin as far as I’m concerned.” Harold chuckled, and it was obvious that he was in his element. Were it not for the beard and the muddied clothes and walking stick, he might as well have been on a stage in Cambridge giving a lecture.

            “In my school we didn’t learn much about evolution,” Hyde said. “Lot of churches in that little town. I think our teachers were afraid to talk about it.”

            “And that’s just the kind of backwards mentality that has stood in the way of scientific progress since the dawn of time,” Harold lamented, shaking his head with a sigh. “Especially in America. No offense.”

            “But isn’t it true that life is more complex than Darwin imagined back in the 1800’s?” Jack asked.

            “Sure,” Harold said. “But does that mean he was wrong? And what do you think, that we were all created by some magic man in the sky?”

            “I’m not sure what I believe. But I remember back when I was in Iraq, on my first tour. I was just a kid, twenty-two years old, and I saw some pretty horrific stuff on the battlefield. Guys with hands and arms and legs mangled by mines and fifty caliber rounds. The doctors would do their best sewing these boys back up, but they were never the same. And those were some of most skilled doctors I’d ever met. They’d talk about how all the muscles and ligaments and bones were perfectly placed and designed to give us optimal strength and flexibility. Now, I’m no scientist, but to me that sounds like more than just blind evolution at work.”

            “Yes, but evolution takes millions and millions of years. What our bodies can do is the result of countless generations of adaptations,” Harold said.

            “But if that’s the case, why are the mutations we see never helpful? I mean, since evolution is based on the idea that animals mutate and get better over time, why don’t we see that? I knew a kid back when I was in high school that had a deformed hand, and I found out later that he’d been born with an extra finger, and he had to get surgery to remove it. But it seems to me that if evolution were true, he should’ve been able to use that finger.”

            Harold cleared his throat again. He spoke slowly and rhythmically, as if explaining something to a small child. “You have to look at the larger context. The whole picture, as it were, of adaptations taking place over millions of years. One kid with an extra finger he can’t use doesn’t disprove evolution. We simply don’t have the data to see all the changes that took place over time.”

            “But if you don’t have the data, then what is the theory based on?” Jack asked. From behind him he could hear Harold take a breath as if to speak, but no words came out.

            “Who cares about any of this stuff?” Hyde said from the front of the line. “We’ll probably never know the answers to any of these questions.”

            “Have you heard of the island of monkeys, Jack?” Harold asked, ignoring Hyde.

            “No, I don’t think so,” Jack replied.

            “It’s a thought experiment to help people wrap their heads around the concept of evolution, which you seem to have trouble with.” Jack ignored Harold’s prattling tone and let him continue. “Imagine an island with an infinite number of monkeys. Each monkey is placed in front of a typewriter with an endless supply of paper. Got it?”

            “Ok,” Jack said reluctantly.

            “Now, the monkeys are typing away endlessly. Of course, almost all of what they write is utter gibberish. However, eventually one of those monkeys will inadvertently type out the Oxford English Dictionary. It’s simply a matter of probability, however small. Eventually, it is bound to happen. And this is how we scientists view the mystery of life itself. However improbable, it was bound to occur, and it just so happened to occur on our planet.”

            Jack mulled over this a minute before speaking. “Alright, I get the example. But are you saying that if you stumbled on an island of monkeys and discovered that one had typed an entire dictionary, you wouldn’t for a moment consider that that monkey might be a little special?”

            “I–that’s not the point, Jack!” Harold said, flustered.

            “If I found those monkeys I’d wonder who gave them the typewriters,” Hyde muttered, and Jack chuckled.

            “Look, laugh all you want but the facts stand up.”

            “An imaginary island of infinite monkeys is an interesting way to try and prove a theory. I guess I’m not a scientist,” Jack said with mock submissiveness, annoying Harold even further.

            “So what’s the alternative, then?” Harold suddenly barked. “An invisible old man in the sky playing a harp wearing a white robe?”

            Jack shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t know what’s out there, but couldn’t it be that the way religions interpret God is wrong, but the fact that he exists isn’t? I mean, isn’t it a little unscientific to not believe in something just because you can’t see it? That’s why people have labs and do tests and experiments, right? They’re trying to prove that something exists that they can’t see clearly with their eyes.”

            Harold was quiet, and although Jack didn’t dare turn to look at him, he knew he was probably fuming by now. It was best to let the topic go. There had been enough scuffles in the last few days without adding fuel to the fire.

            “What I know is science,” Harold said defiantly. “When I see religion, I see nothing positive. When I first started teaching at Cambridge in my thirties I thought it didn’t matter. So some people believed in God, some didn’t. So what? My best friend, John Clevitt, who studied medicine at Cambridge, was dating a Catholic girl, Majorie, at the time. We’d go out to the pubs in town and have long talks about her beliefs. We didn’t care that they were antiquated and unscientific. We’d talk and listen and laugh and have a great time together.

            “Well, John and Majorie were married in a few months and then, a few years in, when Majorie was expecting their first child, tragedy struck. She was diagnosed with cancer. It was vicious and quick. It spread to her bones and liver, and eventually her brain. She died on their sixth anniversary along with the child. John was devastated. It wasn’t easy for me, either. We were all friends.

            “The funeral service was held in a Catholic church not far from the school. It was the first time I’d ever been in one. During the service, the priest said nothing about who Majorie was as a person–her positive attitude, her adventurous nature, how smart she was–none of it. It was like it didn’t matter. He talked about how Majorie went to church every Sunday, and how that had saved her soul, and that she was now in heaven because God needed more angels like her. Well, when John heard that he nearly strangled the priest on the spot. How dare God take his young and beautiful bride! Didn’t He have enough angels already?

            “John was in a rage, but kept silent as the priest rambled on. Then it got worse. The priest began criticizing science, and those who only put their faith in it. He actually had the audacity to say that those who didn’t believe in God would burn forever in hellfire, and if John ever wanted to see Majorie again he would have to repent and change his ways!

            “Well, that was enough for me. I never wanted to see a church again. They could all burn and crumble to dust, for all I cared. It was from that moment that I realized it absolutely does matter what one believes. Religion is nothing but poison. Anything outside of the realm of science simply appalls me.”

            The three walked on for another few minutes without exchanging words. Jack had lost interest in the discussion, and wasn’t entirely sure where he stood on the matter anyway. He didn’t particularly like religion either, whether it was the extremism of the Middle East or the local Bible-thumping Baptists in his hometown. It didn’t appeal to him. But in his mind that was religion, not God. Deep down, he felt that there was something beyond the physical realm, something beyond the material things seen with eyes and felt with hands. But without any real proof to back it up he wasn’t much in the mood to pursue the conversation.

            Jack was buried by his thoughts when he suddenly noticed that a few steps in front of him Hyde had stopped moving.

            “Guys,” Hyde said, his voice flooded with alarm. “Stop walking. Now.”

            Harold and Jack obeyed immediately, freezing in their footsteps and soaking in the sounds of their surroundings.

            “What is it?” Jack whispered. Hyde motioned with his chin slightly to their left. Jack squinted against the sunlight. Then he saw it. About twenty yards in the distance, where the woods thickened, was a large, brown grizzly followed by her two cubs.

            “This is bad, bad, bad,” Hyde said, his voice quivering and barely audible.

            He was right. Jack knew that mother bears were especially violent and aggressive when protecting their young. The three men watched with transfixed horror as the massive, eight hundred pound beast stopped, pointed it’s wriggling snout into the air, and began to sniff.

            “Looks like she knows we’re here,” Jack muttered.

            “What do we do?” Harold said in a panicky voice. Hyde had turned his head and was also looking at Jack. He was, after all, supposedly the man in charge.

            “Just keep quiet and still. Maybe they’ll just move along,” he said without much conviction.

            “And if not? Then what?” Hyde asked.

            Jack glanced around. There was nothing to climb. The trees were thin and their branches too high. There were a few boulders in the distance, but they would be little protection against a grizzly. “I don’t know,” Jack said.

            The hulking grizzly took her time inspecting the air with her massive snout, aware of something amiss. Then, lowering her head, she began moving uphill, directly towards Harold, Jack, and Hyde. Her two cubs, curious about the diversion, romped and bounded in circles around their mother, who was now snorting as she shuffled ever closer. She moved at a lumbering pace, but Jack knew that if she decided to sprint, she could easily outrun them, regardless of the terrain.

            Hyde was the first to run. His feet pedaled hard against the slippery leaves but he went nowhere, like a character out of a cartoon. Finally he found traction in the dirt and began moving, taking great leaps as he charged up the hill. “Hyde, don’t!” Jack barked, but it was no use.

            Harold ran next, ignoring Jack’s pleas and shedding his backpack. The bear, now fully aware of their presence, lifted her head and began to run. And so, with no options left, Jack ran too.

            He’d been right. They were no match for a full grown grizzly, which moved with incredible speed despite its mass and awkward gait. Jack didn’t dare to look back, but he could hear the heavy footfalls landing closer and closer on his heels. Then it was upon him, its massive head shoving against his back and toppling him to the ground.

            Jack screamed, and from a few yards uphill Harold and Hyde turned, filled with terror. Jack laid beneath the powerful creature’s legs, staring into cold, black eyes that would surely be his last sight. The bear opened its terrible, gaping mouth, lowered its head, and began licking Jack’s face. The cubs, finally having caught up with their mother, joined in, licking Jack’s hair and clothes and pawing at his arms playfully.

            “What’s happening? Are they eating him?” Harold said, mortified.

            “No, I don’t think so,” Hyde replied, puzzled but afraid to get a closer look.

           Finally the bears let Jack go, content for the moment with rolling in the leaves. Jack rose to his feet slowly, covered in an odd, slimy stench from head to toe. He gasped without words, arms stretched to his sides and eyes wide and unblinking.

            “I don’t know what just happened, but I’d prefer not to stick around here to find out,” Harold said. Jack nodded slowly. They picked up their items and quickly whisked away from the animals.

***

            The sun had already set in the low valley when Daniel and his father made their way up the dusty road to their cabin. Ribbons of orange and purple were strewn across a cloudless sky, reflected in the still and glassy surface of the valley lake. Daniel felt equal parts exhausted and defeated as he rinsed off his boots in the outdoor shower and set them on the rack to dry. He wasn’t sure what would become of their fugitives and frankly he was tired thinking about it. He’d spent most of the day remembering images he’d glimpsed once in the Armageddon Archives: men swallowed whole into gaping cracks in the ground, sulfur and fire pouring down on military forces, typhoons swallowing immense naval fleets. How close were Jack and Harold to such a fate? Or had it already happened? Judging from his father’s brooding silence, he wasn’t the only one with Divine punishment on his mind.

            Warm light spilled into the dusk as Charlie opened the door leading to the family kitchen. Inside, Sophie sat at the counter behind a pile of research texts. Daniel glanced at the spine of one: Twentieth Century Chinese Culture.

            “Where’s mom?” Daniel asked, prying open one of the cabinets and helping himself to a jar of cashews and dried cranberries.

            “She’s in the sitting room with Adrina,” Sophie said, eyeing her brother and father carefully. “No success?”

            “Nope, unfortunately not. We spotted Jack in Clive but he got away. Haven’t seen anything of Harold though. We ran into someone in Bighton who may have talked with him, but they weren’t able to give us any clues as to where he might be.” Daniel sighed as he collapsed into a barstool beside his sister.

            “Did you guys run into Liping on the way back?” Sophie asked.

            “Yeah, as a matter of fact we did. Didn’t expect to see her out there.”

            “Neither did we. Hongjun and Lirui must’ve made quite an impression on her. I could tell she was excited when they invited her into town.“

            “How long will she be gone?” Daniel asked, biting into an apple from the counter.

            “Probably just a couple of days. Mom didn’t think it would be wise for us to be apart for too long. We still haven’t gotten into the book.” Daniel caught the tinge of disappointment in his sister’s voice.

            “Well she’s still a lot farther along than our two. At least you know where she is,” Daniel said, sighing again.

            “Speaking of which, did you get a chance to talk much with Hongjun when you ran into him?” Sophie said, changing the subject.

            “Not really. Why?” Daniel said. Something about his sister’s tone caught his attention.

            “Go ask mom, she knows the details better.”

            His curiosity piqued, Daniel sauntered towards the sitting room, peeling off his damp socks and tossing them into the laundry bin as he passed one of the doors. He walked the few paces in delight, enjoying the feeling of cool, grooved wood on the bare skin of his feet. His mother and father turned to look at him as he entered the room.

            “It’s good to see you, Daniel,” Naomi said. Daniel nodded with a smile that revealed a penetrating tiredness.

            “Your mother was just sharing some interesting news with me,” Charlie said, the first words Daniel had heard him speak in nearly two hours. Daniel took a seat in one of the recliners.

            “I’m listening,” he said.

            “Hongjun knows someone who thinks he ran into Jack and Harold in the woods. Not far from Clive,” Naomi blurted.

            “What?” Daniel said.

            “He described one of the men as a Caucasian male, muscular, about six feet tall, blonde hair and light eyes, with a backpack. She said it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. The other man was skinnier and looked a bit older but not by much, with black hair. Said he looked like he was having a bad day. Neither of them spoke much.”

            “When was this?”

            “Three days ago, which would’ve been right after you left.”

            Daniel counted the days off in his head. Three days ago was Friday, the day after they spotted Jack at the bazaar. Could that be right? Had they really just camped out in the woods outside of Clive? Daniel looked at his father. But what could they do? Three days was a long time, and chances were they had relocated by now.

            “There’s something else that was relayed that I thought you two would want to know,” Naomi continued. Her husband and son were both leaning forward. Their arms were crossed and they were frowning. The resemblance was uncanny. “Hongjun’s friend said that when he saw the men they were with someone else, a young boy, possibly thirteen or fourteen.”

            Daniel closed his eyes. Something in his brain was telling him this was important. There was a connection begging for discovery right beneath the surface. Bighton. Something had happened there. What had they seen? Or heard?

            That first night, when they’d stumbled into town, they’d eaten at an inn. Their waitress had mentioned something, and...

            “Dad! The boy! The couple we met in Jensen’s inn! They said they’d recently welcomed back a boy and he’d disappeared! Do you remember?”

            Charlie’s face was blank for a moment while he reached back for the details. Then his eyes lit up. “That’s right. They said he’d run away, just like Jack and Harold. That had been a strange coincidence. You think it’s the same boy?”

            “Who else could it be? I doubt that anyone other than a fugitive would camp in the woods with other fugitives.”

            Charlie went quiet as he thought this over and Daniel knew he was searching for some kind of meaning in it all. Too many coincidences. Something else had to be at work here.

            Naomi waited a few moments as her husband and son thought through a few possible scenarios. When they’d settled down, she spoke again. “There’s more. And you won’t believe it.” The same postures. The same expressions. Naomi was almost enjoying this. “Hongjun mentioned that there’s a couple–their names are Trent and Margaret–who also had a runaway. I’m assuming it’s the couple you two met?” Charlie and Daniel nodded in unison, their eyes even wider now.

            “Well get this. I made some phone calls this evening to find the couple, and eventually I was able to get a hold of Margaret. They still haven’t found the boy, but I got some more info on him. His name is Hyde. Hyde Cremshaw.” Charlie and Daniel’s eyes went wide.

            “That’s right. As in Jack Cremshaw.”

            Naomi’s eyes darted back and forth between her husband and son. The men stared at each other in silent shock.

***

            The hike to the airstrip had been longer than Hyde had remembered. Of course, he hadn’t expected a run-in with the local bear population. What had at first been a terrifying threat was, in retrospect, only a major inconvenience, as it had resulted in the loss of a few items–cans of food, a knife, and Harold’s canteen. The trio had only discovered this hours later during a break. It was too far to trek back. Since they had brought just enough food for the two-way trip, they now were faced with the dilemma of resupplying before making the hike back to the cave. This was problem number one.

            The second issue had presented itself around five o’clock in the afternoon, shortly before sunset. The three of them had run into a group of men at a trail crossing. Had the sky been lighter, they would’ve spotted the men earlier and hidden in the thicket. But that hadn’t been an option, and they were forced to acknowledge the strangers on the trail. They’d been friendly enough, but Hyde got the feeling they were suspicious. Harold had acted quickly, though, explaining that he and his friends were on their way to a welcome center to see a resurrection. That had seemed to allay some of the tension as they said their farewells and headed off, but Hyde still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t shake. It felt like they’d known something. It was the same feeling he’d had all those years ago when the doctor had first diagnosed his leukemia. His face smiled, but the eyes betrayed a darker truth. Hyde would never forget those eyes.

            And finally, issue number three. Jack. What had seemed so impossible to him just a few days ago had slowly made itself a reality. He was bigger and stronger and older than the little Jack he’d known as his brother, but Hyde couldn’t deny the resemblance. Even some of the mannerisms were still there. But it was an uncomfortable thought and Hyde had resisted it.         

            Hyde and Jack had spent most of their childhoods together, but their relationship had been bitter and complex. Hyde’s father had been a mystery man, someone he’d never met and seldom heard mentioned by their mother. Jack’s father, on the other hand, was there all the time, and when he wasn’t loading up on booze and cigarettes he was unloading on his stepson.

Hyde, in turn, passed the abuse on to the nearest available target, his little stepbrother, Jack. It was the only available outlet for his untold frustration and misery. As hard as Hyde struggled to forget, he heard the echoes of his own taunts calling back at him from the dark corners of his memory.

            “How much farther?” Harold whined, calling Hyde back to the present. “My feet are killing me.”

            “I think we’re almost there,” Hyde said.

            “You think?” Jack said.

            “Yeah, I’ve only been out this way once. I have a good memory, but it’s tough in the dark.”

            “You’re sure we’re on the right path?” Jack pressed.

            “Yeah. There’s only one path that goes around the mountain in this direction, and this is it. Once we clear the ridge we should be right there at the airstrip,” Hyde explained. But it was hard to tell where, exactly, the ridge was. It could be another ten minutes, it could be another hour. Or more.

            “I say we make camp if we don’t see anything in another fifteen minutes,” Jack said. It was not a suggestion.

            “Agreed. I’m exhausted,” Harold grumbled.

            Hyde kept quiet as they pressed on. He didn’t want to rest until they found the strip.

            “Kind of reminds me of when we were little kids, huh?” Hyde said. Without breaking stride, Jack turned his head to look back with a puzzled expression.

            “So you finally believe me, then. Well, just as an FYI, you’re still a little kid.”

            Hyde ignored the jab. “Actually I’m not sure I do believe you. Not yet, anyway. What can you tell me about mom?”

            “Is this a test?”

            “Are you afraid you’ll fail?”

            “No. But I have nothing to prove to you,” Jack said, leaping over a log in the path. A minute passed without anyone speaking.

            “Ok, fine. What do you want to know?” Jack finally ceded.

            “Just talk. Tell me what you remember of her.”

            “Okay. Mom. She graduated from high school in ‘78 and got pregnant with you shortly after that. You were born in 1980. I came along three years later, in ‘83. Mom did her best raising us but had a lousy taste in men. My father was an abusive drunk and yours, well, we have no idea who he even was. Mom never went to college and worked most of her life as bank teller. Although, a few years after your death she got into selling items she found at garage sales on Ebay.”

            “What’s Ebay?” Hyde asked.

            “Ah, right, you wouldn’t have known about that. You died in ‘95 before all that online stuff was getting big, at least, where we lived. In a nutshell, Mom sold things on an auction service used by people all over the world.”

            “Wow. Sounds like she got pretty rich,” Hyde said.

            “Eh, not really. It wasn’t as glamorous as it sounds. Her income only improved slightly. When I graduated the first thing I did was get myself a job to help out with the paychecks. That and kicked James out of the house.”

            “James? Your dad? You kicked him out?” Hyde said, unable to contain his amusement.

            “He may have been my biological father, but he never treated me like a son. He wasn’t a dad to me. As far as I’m concerned I never had a dad. He seemed so big and scary when we were little, but in high school I shot up pretty quick and started lifting weights in the school gym. By the time I was sixteen he stopped pushing me around. I was a running back on our high school’s football team. I never weighed more than the old man, but I had speed and strength.

            “Anyways, by then he was getting pretty weak. All the cigarettes were taking their toll. He was always hacking and complaining about chest pains. The day I graduated I came home and ordered him to pack up his junk and get out. You should’ve seen the look on his face. He knew he couldn’t fight me. He tried bargaining but he had nothing worth offering. He knew he it was over. So did mom. I guess we all saw it coming. He packed up what little he had in an old suitcase, threw it into his pickup, and drove off. We never saw him again.”

            “Wow,” Hyde said. It was all he could manage. The idea that someone finally stood up to the evil stepdad was like something in a dream. Or a movie.

            “So,” Jack said, pausing for a moment as he turned to face his brother. “Did I pass the test?”

            “Yeah, I guess so. For now,” Hyde said, smiling back.

            “Well, you passed too,” Jack said, starting to walk again. “I spotted a pair of lights blinking above us through the treetops a minute ago. Looked a lot like wingtip strobes on a medium-sized aircraft. The strip should be close by now.”

            Hyde let out a quiet sigh of relief and Harold exclaimed something behind them. In another five minutes they stood at the top of the ridge, looking down on the small and sparsely lit Gervis Municipal Airport.