Chapter 62

December Twenty-fifth 4:52 EST

Instinctively, Jean breathed in when he awoke. When water rushed into his lungs, the primitive fear of drowning threatened to overwhelm him, and he flailed about blindly. Even though such a thing was no longer possible, the phobia was so deeply imbedded that reason took a long time to return.

When he had calmed, he felt Kelly thrashing in the deep, cold water next to him, in the grip of similar panic. He took her by the shoulder and pulled her to the surface. For the next few minutes they tread water in the pitch-black interior of the spring-house. Jean spent the time listening for any movement outside their refuge, while Kelly hacked up the water she had breathed in.

When he was relatively certain that no one was nearby, he pushed the door open and pulled himself out of the murky water before helping her make her exit. Once outside, he pulled her down into a crouch next to door, although there was little chance of actually being seen. The spring house sat in the middle of a tiny wooded lot, the final, forgotten remnant of a farm that had long since been replaced by housing developments in this suburb of Richmond

The nearby houses were dark except for the occasional flicker of candlelight through the cracks in the boards that sealed the windows. Although the city was still more than thirty miles south, the horizon was hazed with smoke that glowed slightly with the reflected light of fires that blazed below.

As he vomited up a surprisingly large volume of water, Jean had trouble tearing his eyes from that ominous cloud and his thoughts from the massive destruction that it implied. "What have we done?" he muttered mournfully when he was again able to speak.

"You didn't know what Arthur was planning?" Kelly asked quietly, her eyes moving restlessly over the countryside in search of threats.

"I knew, but I didn't think he had any chance of success. I also had no idea how much destruction there would be or how many deaths. At first I thought his plan was ludicrous and was just biding my time until I could slip away, not wanting to be anywhere close to him when the elders came to enforce the law. And then..." He trailed off with a shrug.

"And then you made me," she finished for him. Although she stated it as fact, there was a note of uncertainty and hopefulness in her voice.

He reached out to clasp her shoulder reassuringly and pulled her close. "And then I made you," he agreed. As he held her, he focused his will, starting with the crown of her head and then moving lower. After he reached her feet, he shifted his attention to himself. When he was through, they were more-or-less dry, and any lingering dampness would soon evaporate.