But it wasn’t a beast emerging from the depths of the cave that assaulted him. The attack came from inside. His stomach seemed to seize up like a fist closing, tightening, pain punching out through his abdomen.
Green mush flowed up through his throat and out of his mouth, a soupy goo that sprayed across the white-gray rock.
Sam’s vision blurred. Legs went weak. He sank to the ground, still clutching the stick, watching the dark hole for any sign of a predator. He saw only darkness.
Another wave of semi-digested fruit sprayed out. Then another. It was like an invisible attacker was reaching down through his throat and yanking out his insides. It kept pulling until his heaves were dry. His abs ached. Throat burned. Eyes bulged. He felt like his body was self-destructing, trying to explode.
The sun slipped behind the treetops, as if it couldn’t bear to watch.
Sam lowered himself from his hands and knees onto his side. The rock was cold on his face.
The rain started then, a soft pattering on the stones at first, then drumming, and finally pounding all around, like a symphony signaling his end.
In a fitting touch, the light from the sun faded behind the trees. A curtain being drawn on Pangea.
And maybe his life.
Was this his final act? Would it end in this rocky expanse in the distant past?
If not, what would darkness on land bring? A predator to finish him? The green pods had felled him. The kill was all that remained.
Get up, his mind said. Get up or you never will again.
He planted his hand on the rock, but it slipped on the wet surface, slamming him back down. He tried to push up again, but his body didn’t move.
He just needed to rest.
Just a little longer, he told himself. But there wasn’t any longer. It was now or never. He had to get up.
In his mind, he imagined himself stepping out of Absolom, hugging Adeline and Ryan, back in the world he knew, in his life, vindicated.
He had to fight.
He rolled onto his belly, set his forearms on the rock, and pushed. He got his knees under him. He reached out, grabbed the stick, and shoved it into the small cave. It hit rock at the back.
He army-crawled closer. There were no animal droppings near the mouth. Or inside.
He pulled himself deeper inside. It wasn’t really a cave, just a deep indentation in the rock, barely large enough for him to hide, with an opening small enough for him to defend.
He held the stick out, ready to stab anything that might approach.
He waited, eyes growing heavy. He retched twice more before night fell completely. In that time, he drifted somewhere between sleep and waking, and in the darkness, in one of those moments, under the soft glow of the moonlight, he heard rustling in the forest, near the tree line.
Slowly, tentatively, the creature stepped out of the shadows, into the clearing, and began moving toward him.
TWENTY-EIGHT
On Saturday afternoon, Adeline attended a memorial service for her father. It was held at Elliott’s home, and on the whole, it was an awkward affair, for a few reasons.
First, Elliott had insisted on the event being a dual remembrance of life for Nora and for Adeline’s father—who was, according to the court （and his own confession）， guilty of her murder.
Many of those in attendance were employees at Absolom Sciences. They saw both Nora and Sam as victims.
Others, like Nora’s former university colleagues, looked at Adeline with a barely concealed accusation in their eyes. When their glares cut into Adeline, she didn’t back away. Just the opposite. She stared back, not hiding her own contempt, silently declaring, My father is innocent, and you should be ashamed, not me.
Adeline was discovering a whole new side of herself. There was a fighter inside of her, a person she never knew existed and wouldn’t have if not for Nora’s death and her father’s exile. She marveled then that one never knew what they were made of until their back was against the wall.
Ryan seemed less equipped to endure the stares from the adults. In those interactions, Adeline realized she wasn’t the only fighter on the prowl at the service. Daniele stuck close to Ryan, and when she caught someone whispering, pointing, or scrutinizing him, she fired back. Her gaze was like a nuclear explosion hitting the gawkers. They fell silent, eyes wide as they melted away. Once, she even crossed the living room and said, “Is there something you want to say?”
As it turned out, the person didn’t have anything they wanted to say.
Adeline soon learned that while she could stand the judgmental stares of strangers, that of friends was much harder.
She turned the corner to the dining room and found Constance standing there, alone, holding a small plate heavy with hors d’oeuvres, a bottle of water in her other hand. Her head was wrapped in a decorative scarf that was blue with white and yellow flowers. The vivid colors were a sharp contrast to her ashy skin and hollowed-out eyes. She stared at Adeline with a mix of sympathy and hurt. Whether it was hurt from Nora’s death and her father’s departure or Adeline’s betrayal, the younger woman wasn’t sure, but she did know that Constance’s stare fell on her like a sledgehammer. The silence that accompanied it merely drove the blow deeper into her.