FORTY-ONE
Sam felt as though he was being slowly suffocated. The smoke from the fire and volcano grew thicker by the second. He couldn’t breathe in now without feeling the acrid sulfuric air burn his nose and mouth.
Lying half-buried in the sand, he suppressed his coughs, terrified that they might draw the dinosaurs and crocs stalking across the dark desert.
He had to get out.
He glanced again at the metal pins he’d collected from the two dead humans. He turned them, watching the lights change from red to green.
What was waiting for him out there?
It was time to find out. And it was probably now or never.
As quietly as possible, he moved the sand off his lower body and stood. With the spear in his hand, he ventured to the end of the skeleton, to the opening where a living croc had ripped through the remains of a dead one.
Sam took out the metal pins, oriented himself toward his unknown prize, and trekked out into the desert.
He navigated by sound, keeping clear of any shifting sand or screeches or feet pounding the ground.
A gentle wind stirred the smoke, reminding Sam of the fog clouds in London, of walking across Tower Bridge one night, Nora beside him.
“I’m worried about Elliott,” she had said.
“Me too. He’s working too much.”
“It’s not just that. He’s obsessing.”
“Over Absolom.”
“Absolom is what he’s working on, but it’s Charlie he’s obsessed with. Do you know what he’s doing in the lab?”
“Something with entanglement. I think working helps him. It’s a distraction.”
“It’s a sand trap. It’s sucking him in.”
In the hotel room, after dinner, Nora sat on a couch, looking out at the River Thames. “You ever think about confessing?”
“Confessing?”
“Telling the world that we never thought Absolom would be a reality. That we were faking it in the beginning.”
“No. Of the things I think about, that’s not one.”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Guilt. The way people look at me—like I’m some kind of god.” Nora raised her eyebrows as if pained. “I just want to scream: ‘It was all a fluke. A happy accident. We never even thought it would work. I’m a fraud, a big worthless fraud!’”
Sam laughed. “It’s natural.”
“What is?”
“Feeling that way. I imagine all celebrities feel like some of the adoration they receive is undeserved.” Sam shrugged. “Well, the ones who aren’t egomaniacs.”
Nora stared at a boat on the river, its lights carving into the night as it motored along.
“We were at the right place at the right time.”
“We were,” Sam agreed. “And we had the right skills.”
“Look at what it cost us.”
Sam squinted at her. “What do you mean?”
“We did it for all the wrong reasons. For money.”
“We did it for family.”
Nora rose from the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of Sam’s chair. “Yes. And look at what happened. You lost Sarah. I lost my parents. Elliott lost Charlie. Constance is still sick, and Hiro still gambles.” Nora closed her eyes as if trying to conjure the right words. “It’s like we made a deal with the devil. We told a lie and got what we wanted but we lost the things we loved—what we truly cared about in the world. In that deep hole, we got wealth and fame and adoration that we don’t deserve.”
Sam reached out and took her hands. “Hey, where’s this coming from?”
“I don’t know, Sam. I just feel like the world doesn’t make any sense.”
“Because you’ve lost someone—”
“It’s not just Dave. Or my parents. It’s like things don’t add up. Life is surreal, like a dream I can’t wake up from. I feel like it has to have some meaning that I can’t see. What we’re doing has to be part of something bigger.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know… some grand plan.”
“I don’t know about any grand plan, but I do know Absolom brought us together.” Sam reached up and ran his thumb across her cheek.
Nora froze, as if the touch had paralyzed her.
Sam thought she was going to reel back, but slowly, she turned her face into his hand. Her voice was soft and heavy with emotion when she spoke. “Sam, we shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not a whole person, Sam.”