Keepers of the Flame Read online

  KEEPERS OF THE FLAME

  Edward J. McFadden III

  www.severedpress.com

  Copyright 2020 by Edward J. McFadden III

  “The trouble you're expecting never happens;

  it's always something that sneaks up the other way.”

  ― George R. Stewart, Earth Abides

  Chapter One

  Year 2047, Respite, South Pacific Sea

  Enormous waves crashed against the cliff face and sprayed the crowd below with sea water. Milly focused on the wave tops the way her fire master had taught her. She was to time her jump into open air, trusting in the island and the sea to bring the next wave as it had brought the one before.

  Peter stood beside her. “We don’t have to do this. We can grow food, or work at the Foundation, or many other things,” he said. Peter wore shorts made of canvas that had once been part of a lifeboat cover, and a blue t-shirt so threadbare and tattered it didn’t cover much. His face glistened in the sunlight as it reflected off the sunscreen Doc made from coconut oil and dirt.

  “Sounds like you’re afraid,” Milly said.

  They were the last two. If they jumped and made it back to the beach, they became fire guards. The quitters faced the real hardship. They had to discover who they were, and who they would become. When she jumped, all that would be decided.

  A wall of water arced and pummeled the cliff, spraying the spectators down on Great Rock again. “Never say that to me again,” Peter said. He punched her lightly on the shoulder and broke into a run. Milly focused on the wave tops, and then she was running after him.

  Another wave closed out as she chased Peter across the stone outcrop. The end of the line approached, and Milly saw that Peter’s jump would be perfect, but hers wouldn’t. The trick was to land on a wave top. If she missed, she’d fall one hundred feet onto jagged rocks. If she landed on the side of a wave, she’d get sucked under and mashed against the cliff.

  Peter jumped and disappeared over the ledge.

  Everything was wrong. Her speed and timing. Milly’s heart hammered, and all she could think of was beating Peter. Getting to the beach first. She put on the brakes just in time and skidded to the edge of the cliff and pulled herself back.

  Peter landed atop a wave, and disappeared as he swam downward, away from the turmoil of the erupting sea.

  Milly backed up and restarted her run. She puffed in and out, adjusting her pace as she focused on the waves. Her mother’s old gym shorts slipped down her hips and she jerked them up as she ran. Sparse jungle fleeted by on both sides, and children hid within the tree ferns and shrubs. The final walk of a fire guard trainee wasn’t supposed to be seen by outsiders, but she’d snuck up to watch as a kid.

  Milly leapt toward the blue sky, trying to catch a cloud.

  A wall of water stood before her and pounded her back. Everything went dark as she got pulled under the stone outcrop she’d jumped from. Water churned and it wouldn’t be long before she hit the cliff side and was crushed to death.

  Milly tumbled in the blackness, stroking wildly, fighting against the roll of the ocean. She remembered her fire master’s words: “When your mind tells you to resist the ocean, give yourself to her.” She went slack, forcing herself to relax. The pressure of the water eased, and she floated downward in the darkness as she let the last of her air escape her lips.

  She inched away from the cliff side, swimming hard along the bottom, taking a diagonal course that led away from the break line and the rocks waiting to crush her into flour. Her chest burned, and her arms felt like stone, but she stroked up, sunlight visible above.

  Milly broke the surface and sucked air, the pain in her lungs so intense she was sure she was dying, but it eased. She floated on her back within the wave break, an endless field of blue filling the sky. She’d made it. Until that moment she didn’t think she would. As the waves crashed, she saw they weren’t as big as they looked from above, and the whitewater didn’t make it all the way in under the precipice. Getting caught in the powerful water wasn’t sure death. You had to completely miss a wave for it to be fatal. A fact her fire master had failed to share, but she wasn’t angry. It was a test of faith, and she and Peter had passed.

  When she looked to shore, Peter waited with his hands on his hips. She flipped over and stroked for the beach. Wasn’t that just like him to be overly efficient and unable to relish the moment? She’d just achieved her life’s goal, and he couldn’t let her enjoy it. That was her fault, she knew. That they’d just peaked in their teens was depressing, and she already yearned for something more, yet she pushed the thoughts away with each stroke.

  Milly crawled from the ocean and collapsed on the white sand. Cheers erupted from the crowd on Great Rock as the cool ocean flowed around her.

  “You done resting?” Peter said.

  She laughed. “We made it. We both made it, Peter!”

  “You doubted it?” he said.

  She said nothing.

  “Let’s start our walk. I’m looking forward to saying goodbye to the Fire Wood,” he said.

  They cut through a thin line of palm trees and plunged into the forest, following the well-beaten path through tree ferns and dense shrubs until they came to the field of noni trees. A wood cupola sat at the center of the field, and the short bushy trees extended in even rows in all directions.

  Milly and Peter picked an aisle and headed for the cupola. “I hate this place,” said Milly. “It smells like someone threw up.” Noni trees grew foul starvation fruit that looked like large white raspberries. They grew fast, and after several yields of fruit the trees were harvested as fuel for the Perpetual Flame and a new tree planted in its place. This was the task of the fire guard apprentices, and Milly would never have to work there again, though she had to supervise trainees.

  Peter tried to make conversation by complimenting her mother. “Smart of your mom to come up with the idea for this place,” he said. His hand trailed along the big green leaves of trees they’d planted.

  “If everyone had their own fire, the island would be treeless, and the nasty fruit saved our people when they first came here,” Milly said, reciting the words of her fire master. “Creating the vegetable fields took time, and without the noni fruit and an abundance of fish nobody would have survived the early days of Respite.”

  “Yeah, we still have to do our field chores,” Peter said. Most people on Respite worked in the fields in some capacity, regardless of their status or job.

  They reached the cupola and a black box made of a material Milly didn’t recognize sat atop a table made from dried vines. The wind eased, and the birds and insects took a break from their constant chatter. Milly froze. The box wasn’t locked, yet she couldn’t move for fear of what it contained.

  Peter opened it.

  Two roughly hewn metal rings lay within. The pieces were decorated with etched flames and their names were chiseled therein. Peter picked-up the larger of the two and put it on his ring finger. The etched flames glittered when light hit them.

  Milly didn’t put her ring on, but stared at it as it rested in her palm, her mouth twisted in a frown. “This is it?” Milly said.

  “It is the symbol of the fire guards. You know how hard it is to forge metal. We’re part of them now,” Peter said.

  “Great,” she said.

  When she turned to leave, Peter grabbed her elbow. “What is it? You should be happy.”

  “I know, but…” She stared at the ring. “Have we nothing left? We’ll achieve no more than we did today.”

  “I felt the same way, but ask yourself, how do you know?”

  “Because I know every inch of this island. Because our jobs will never change. The same thing every da
y. I know because my mother and the other elders have controlled everything we’ve been exposed to. You know what they always say, how we must move ahead and never look back. If the sacred texts have taught me anything it’s that we are a product of our environment. An environment created by the elders. That’s how I know, Peter Pan.”

  She stalked off, and he said, “Wait. What’s the rush?” Peter wanted to spend quality alone time with her, but she wanted no part of it.

  She called back through the orchard, “Come on. Everyone will be waiting for us at the Womb.”

  The Womb was a stone depression on the sheltered side of Respite halfway up the mountain. Fresh drinking water trickled into a stone pool on one end, and the Perpetual Flame burned in its natural fireplace on the other. Most of Respite’s citizens looked on as Milly and Peter entered the Womb for the first time as equals. Milly had drunk water from the spring and eaten food cooked over the Perpetual Flame her entire life, but had never tended them. She’d lain next to the natural chimney on the side of the mountain on cold nights, and heard the great tales of the past read by people who worked at the Foundation, but hadn’t understood their purpose.

  The Foundation took its name from the sacred text, Foundation by Asimov, about a library to preserve and chronicle human knowledge, and within were the nineteen sacred texts brought to Respite by Doc Hampton on The Day. Above the cave entrance to the Foundation, the following was carved into the stone wall of the Womb, “So we may remember the world that is gone, understand our purpose, and the world that may be again.”

  Milly and Peter stopped when they reached the foot of the stone dais. Bell peppers and herbs grew all about the Womb, their intoxicating scent blending with the smoke and steam. It was time for the sacrifice ceremony. Burn something you wish to shed or change and do your best over the next twelve moons to do so. Milly was taught that the tradition was from an ancient people called Indians who once ruled the old country where their descendants had lived.

  She looked at Peter, who stood transfixed. He gazed at the Perpetual Flame, the massive fire licking the stone walls. Peter loved her, and Milly knew there was no way she could ever change that, despite her best efforts.

  Master Jeffery stood on the dais and lifted his hand to the sky. He held forth a small white cylinder with a silver top. When he rubbed its tip, a flame sprang from its end.

  Peter gasped. “What is it, Milly?”

  “It’s from the gone world,” she said.

  The tiny flame winked out and Master Jeffery cleared his throat. “People of Respite, you gather here to pay tribute to the keepers of the sacred flame, and to honor Peter and Milly as they start their life of service to the endless fire. It was decreed by our mothers and fathers that this flame shall never be extinguished and that it is to burn for all eternity as a symbol of our people’s strength. Thus the Perpetual Flame gives us heat and cooks our food. It brings us together and preserves our island vegetation.”

  Master Jeffery paused and looked around the Womb. The faint sound of waves crashing filled the stillness. “But perhaps the most important thing the Perpetual Flame provides is life. It is written in the Foundation that if our fire should go out, everything on Respite will perish. So we have kept the flame alive and unbroken and it has never been extinguished. What say you, citizens of Respite?”

  Milly responded with everyone else, their voices rising together in a proclamation of unity. “The everlasting flame gives us life and that life I giveth unto you. You warm us, feed us, and light the way. For these eternal gifts we feed that which must not fail and never grow cold.”

  “Thanks be to the Perpetual Flame,” Master Jeffery said.

  “Amen,” Milly said along with everyone else.

  “Thus we sacrifice our own pleasure and lust for the sustainability of the community and each of us agrees that our numbers must be strictly controlled,” Master Jeffery said.

  “Amen,” the adult citizens of Respite said.

  “To have a child without the vote of the community is a crime of the highest order,” Master Jeffery said. “Thus we respect the sacrifices of those who weren’t fortunate enough to enjoy our paradise. So we pray to the Remembrance Wall.”

  Everyone turned to the cliff wall next to the Foundation where the names of every person who’d died on Respite was memorialized via a chiseled etching.

  “Amen. We shall remember you always and respect your sacrifice.”

  “As is tradition, the new fire guards will be the first to cast their regrets and goals,” Master Jeffery said.

  He handed Peter and Milly their slips of paper they’d made from wood pulp. They had prepared their vows ahead of time, and as Milly accepted hers, she cast a sidelong glance at Peter, who went to the fire, its flames licking the top of the indentation in the stone that served as Respite’s fireplace. He lingered there for several moments, rubbing the rough paper between his fingers.

  Milly’s heart sank. His goal was to pair with her. He’d told her as much. It could never work. They were too different and there was no way they could bond, plus there was their family’s histories to consider. She didn’t think she loved Peter, but it was more complicated than that. Her chest ached. On her slip of paper was written “leave Respite.”

  Master Jeffery coughed, and Milly snapped from her reverie. Everyone’s eyes were on her, even Peter’s. He’d dropped his pledge into the fire and stood waiting, smoke wrapping him in a white embrace. He thrust his chin forward and opened his eyes wide as if to say, “Get on with it and stop wasting everyone’s time.”

  Milly dropped her slip into the fire and she and Peter joined Master Jeffery on the dais. One by one the people of Respite over the age of eighteen came forth to make their yearly pledge. A ragged band in clothes salvaged from the Oceanic Eco, and made from canvas, seat cushions, drapes, and animal skins. Milly’s mother, Sarah and her father, Gary, stood front and center, and Sarah winked as she passed. She searched for Peter’s father, Ben Hasten, but didn’t see him or his mother. Several of her friends sat in the first row, but they’d come by a different path, and were older than Milly. One was Tye Rantic, who stood in the front row, smiling. He waved to her and clapped. They’d become friends, and she liked listening to his stories about the gone world. Most of the older folks wouldn’t talk about what it was like before The Day.

  Two hundred and nineteen people passed before the fire, each dropping a piece of themselves into the flames. When the procession had passed, Master Jeffery said, “Now we hear from the new fire guards. Peter and Milly have passed our most difficult test so they can perform our most important task.”

  Master Jeffery turned to Peter and Milly. “You are hereby accepted into my service. As fire guards, it is our responsibility to ensure the Perpetual Flame never goes out. Do you agree to aid me in this endeavor?”

  Peter and Milly said in unison, “I do.”

  “Do you agree to put the service of the fire above all other claims?”

  “I do.”

  “And should this task require your life, will you give it willingly to the flame?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You may now affirm your oath to Respite and its people,” Master Jeffery said, and stepped back.

  Milly looked at Peter with a face that said you first, but he didn’t move. She willed him forward by opening her eyes wide and clenching her jaw.

  Peter crumbled under her stare and stalked across the dais and stopped at the rock’s edge.

  “I’m not nobility,” he said, and looked Milly’s way. “But I will serve without fear, and without betrayal.”

  Milly shuffled forward and looked out on the crowd. She withered inside and her confidence fled. Somebody coughed. Master Jeffery cleared his throat again. Her stomach burned as the eyes of the crowd found every flaw in her appearance. Tye nodded at her and she began, “My mother, Sarah Hendricks, was one of the first fire guards. She helped create the traditions that have guided us and kept us safe. She made the hard dec
isions so we could live. It is for her I set my first goal as I turn to the future. A future serving Respite, and the Perpetual Flame.”

  Peter and Milly loaded logs on the fire, and the flames crackled and stung the mountainside. The citizens of Respite clapped and cheered, and finally Milly smiled.

  Chapter Two

  Year 2047, Respite, South Pacific Sea

  Milly’s first experience with wine left her head throbbing. The party celebrating the sacrifice ceremony went on deep into the night, and when she got home, her parent’s bedroom door was closed. The buzz of the insect night symphony filled the concrete walls of Citi, the old resort that was the heart of Respite.

  She went to her room and her mother poked her head through the open door. “Hey, you OK?” Sarah said.

  Darkness pressed in around them and moonlight shone through the open window. Sarah held a candle and flickering light danced on the walls. Milly sat on her bed of woven palm fronds, and her mother sat next to her.

  “Congratulations on becoming a fire guard. Now you can lead Respite into the future,” Sarah said.

  Milly wiped a tear from her cheek. Her stomach burned, her mind spinning through a wine induced haze. She didn’t want to lead Respite, and she didn’t want to disappoint her mother.

  “You came of age today, and you deserve to know how we came to Respite. You’ve been told pieces of the story. Dramatizations in front of the Perpetual Flame, but now it’s time for you to hear how you became my daughter,” Sarah said.

  Milly wiped another tear from her face and growled. She didn’t like anyone seeing her get emotional, even her mother. Sometimes, especially her mother.

  “It was June 2nd, 2031, and we were off the coast of Alaska, in the North Pacific Sea,” Sarah said. “The world was dying, and I sat on the bridge of the Oceanic Eco, biting my nails and trying to keep my hands from shaking. Corpses lay in the streets and diseased virals ravaged what little remained.