Eighth Fire Read Free Page B

mix with the other three ingredients: the
dehydrated fish heart and liver, as-well-as the oxidizing agent,
sodium. The fumes were almost immediate, as was Benrah’s
reaction.
    In a blur, almost too quick to see, Benrah’s
feet shot straight toward where Mr. Diefenderfer and Mr. Young
were. This was followed by two blended screams, the disappearance
of Benrah, and then silence.
    Mark’s heart sank and he cried out, “Are you
alright!”
    Silence.
    He scooped up a lantern and ran to where he
knew they had to be. Their bodies lay torn and broken. Blood pooled
under their forms and their entrails, torn from the gaping rips in
their bellies, were strewn about the floor.
    He sank to his knees and
pounded the side of his fist on the cold stone floor. Tears flooded
his eyes and his nose filled forcing him to breathe through his
mouth. The last word Benrah had spoken echoed in his mind, untrue . What if Benrah was telling the truth? No! It
can’t be! Three days...just three days, and they’ll be
okay.
    Mark mustered his resolve and dragged the
bodies back to where Ricky’s body lay.
    Three days passed with each hour seeing
another bug bomb hit the floor, but instead of healing, the bodies
were decaying. The overpowering rancor forced Mark to move his
vigil back several feet. There was no doubt in his mind now that
Benrah had spoken the truth. Somehow the healing powers of this
place had vanished.
    Mark was halfway back up the ladder when
Benrah’s voice boomed again. “You’re one pigheaded poke.”
    Mark almost lost his grip when he scrambled
for one of the few remaining bug bombs.
    “Drop it if you like, but sooner or later
you’re going to hear what I have to say.”
    Mark dropped the capsule and continued his
climb. “I don’t care what you have to say.” A couple of seconds
later Benrah was gone and Mark reached the door. He fell asleep as
soon as he passed through.
     

     
    Seven days later he awoke in a hospital bed.
He got up, pulled back the curtain and saw exactly what he
expected. He was in the healing ward. The memories of the most
recent events in the labyrinth played fresh in his mind and his
eyes blurred from the tears.
    A lady wearing a white hooded cloak was just
walking up. It was Mary, the same healer that had attended him last
year on his return from the labyrinth.
    “I expected you would wake up this morning.
I’ve already sent for a proper North Carolina breakfast, and Mrs.
Shadowitz should be here any moment now.”
    No sooner had she spoken than the door to the
healing ward opened and Mrs. Shadowitz entered. She motioned for
one for the guards to pull a table up to the foot of Mark’s
bed.
    The guard did as she indicated and she looked
at Mark. Her face was a mask of sorrow. “We need to talk before
your parents get here.”
    Mark looked down, swallowed hard, sniffed and
looked back up. A moment later he nodded, walked to the table and
sat down.
    Mrs. Shadowitz sat down and leaned across the
table reaching her hands out to him. He slid his hands into hers
and felt the reassurance of her touch.
    “No one blames you for what happened. You did
what you felt you had to do. No one can fault you for that.” Mark’s
thoughts were the only known form of communication that could
escape the labyrinth without the use of the staff. Several
counselors had maintained a vigil outside the entrance to the
labyrinth while Mark and the others had been in there which put
them close enough to be able to read Mark’s thoughts. As a result,
everyone knew exactly what had happened in there.
    Mark swallowed again and didn’t say anything.
He knew she was building up to ask him something and he had a
pretty good idea what it was. They couldn’t let the bodies just rot
in the labyrinth. They would need a decent burial.
    Mrs. Shadowitz was about to say something
else when he decided to speak. “I’ll do it.”
    “You’ll do what?”
    “I’ll go back in and recover the bodies.”
    Her hands tightened on his