Authors: Julia Crane
T
he survivors followed the soldiers through the trees until they broke the forest line and climbed a small hill onto a dirt road. Several men and women awaited them at idling vehicles that looked like nothing Callie had ever seen.
“Those are the strangest cars ever,” Nailah pronounced.
Callie tightened her arm around Nailah’s shoulders; her ankle was killing her. “Yeah.”
There were seven in all, and no two looked alike. They seemed to be pieced together from various odds and ends—Callie would have sworn one of them had a base made from the wing of an airplane. None of them were covered; they had crafted roll-over racks like those found on military Jeeps. Some had two headlights, but the majority only had one.
“Ladies and gentleman,” the bald soldier called over the low murmuring of the survivors. “If you would pick a Cruiser and settle in, it’s about a thirty minute ride to Aionia.”
Callie had no idea where Aionia was; she’d never been any good at geography. But if it meant civilization and a plane back to the States, she’d take it.
They’d probably have to sedate her before she could step foot on another aircraft.
There was no way they could continue on to vacation. Not after such an ordeal. Callie was positive her mom would agree, especially with Gran hurt. She needed to be back in her own bed to recuperate.
Two men helped Gran climb into the nearest Cruiser, settling her between Callie and Nailah. Gran rested her head on Callie’s shoulder as Emma slid into the front seat.
The driver was a young guy with a head full of dark curly hair and an unshaven face. Emma turned to him. “Aionia? I’ve never heard of it. Where are we? Is it a small village or something?”
The driver glanced over at Emma, his youthful face stoic. “It will all be explained to you shortly.” As the line of vehicles ahead of them began to pull away, he put the Cruiser into gear and eased forward. “Where are you from?”
“California.”
“Oh, yeah? Do they still have that big
HOLLYWOOD
sign up?”
What an odd question
, Callie thought, raising an eyebrow at Nailah, who shrugged, stupefied.
Emma narrowed her eyes and looked askance at the man. “Yep, it’s still there as obnoxious as ever. I think that will always be a constant.”
The occupants of the car fell silent. On Callie’s shoulder, Gran had gone to sleep, probably lulled by the steady
thrum
of the engine. Callie had noticed the engine itself was open to the elements right behind their seat. She wondered what happened if it rained; surely the mechanisms wouldn’t work waterlogged.
Something was bothering her mom, and Callie wasn’t sure what it was. She watched as her mom tugged nervously at an ear; it was one of her tells. Emma turned in her seat to smile at Callie. Her eyes fell on Gran, and her face lit up.
She faced the driver once more, this time with purpose. “Why were we picked up by military and not an ambulance? I would have thought medical personnel would have been sent to a crash site. Do you not have medical services? Are we on a military base?”
The driver kept his eyes on the road. “No, it’s not a military base. I can’t answer anymore questions, ma’am. Rest assured, your party will be debriefed when you arrive.” He paused, and then tossed a grin in Emma’s direction. “Aionia is the most beautiful place on earth. You’ll enjoy it here.”
Callie had been listening to the exchange, and at his last declaration, she snickered to herself. Locals always thought their piece of the earth was the most beautiful place in the world; she couldn’t even count how many times they’d heard such a thing in all their travels. Callie doubted Aionia could top New Zealand.
And honestly, even if it is gorgeous, I am so not in the mood for sightseeing
. Callie’s immediate needs could only be settled by a bathtub and a comfy mattress.
Emma sighed and rubbed both of her temples, brushing her hair away from her face. The wind was really kicking around the vehicle since it had sped up considerably. “Callie, wake your Gran up. I don’t think she should be sleeping. She may have a concussion.”
Callie gently ran a hand over her grandmother’s head. “Gran, how are you feeling?”
Gran’s eyes opened woozily and it took her a moment to focus on Callie. “I’m a little dizzy, and my head hurts.” She took a shaky breath and her eyes teared up. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t asked you to come on vacation with me—”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. This is not your fault. Mom puts my life in danger on a regular basis,” Callie joked, an attempt at levity.
Emma reached over the seat and gently took Gran’s hand. “She’s right, Mom. This is definitely not your fault. It was an accident. I’m just glad we’re all alive.”
The Cruiser didn’t have the smoothest of rides. The dirt road they traveled was rutted by a delta of watermarks, but it was surrounded by lush, green foliage that became more prominent as the sun finally started to rise. The pink sky was clear of any clouds; the forest seemed never-ending.
Callie rested her head on top of her Gran’s and must have nodded off. She woke up to Nailah’s hand as it roughly grabbed her arm.
“Calista. Wake up!” Nailah gasped.
Shaking away the fog of sleep, Callie blinked at the road ahead.
The view that was steadily drawing closer was comparable to one she’d seen before, but she never imagined she’d see something like it that was
inhabited
and not crumbling to the ground.
Teotihuacán was an ancient Aztec site northeast of Mexico City. She, her mother, and Braden had snuck onto the land as the evening sun set. Though only certain structures still remained in the modern day, Callie could picture the city as the Aztecs had meant for it to appear. The central temple, the strategic avenues… It was one of the moments in Callie’s life when she’d remembered just how small she was in the scheme of the world.
The Cruiser angled down an incline, allowing the passengers an amazing view. A central step temple rose above a sea of pale stone buildings that spread all the way to the sapphire ocean in the distance. It took her breath away—it was Teotihuacán, but not in ruins.
She could make out the normal hustle and bustle of a city: the small forms of people walked in the shadow of the buildings, while vehicles similar to the Cruisers wound through streets forming an elegant wagon-wheel. The wagon-wheel spread out from a central axis of the step temple. It was like an ancient Aztec civilization, pulled from the past and settled right down on the island.
“What in the world…” Emma’s voice rang from the front seat. “Is that Aionia?”
The soldier beamed. “Yes, ma’am. That’s our girl.”
The sun had fully risen by the time the Cruisers passed the first of the city’s buildings. Most seemed to be connected—an ongoing façade with perfectly spaced doors and windows until the buildings were bisected by horizontally running streets. Callie watched them slide by, fascinated. None of the many windows had glass, and very few doors were actually closed. They were dark, as if no lights were turned on inside, though curious faces appeared in the openings as the Cruisers passed.
Callie was surprised to see such a wide-range of ethnicities. She’d expected—albeit judgmentally—that the island would be like all the others: full of dark-skinned people. But the faces that peered out at the passing cars ranged from the snow-white skin of Anglo-Saxons to the warm glow of the Mediterranean to the ebony gleam of the deep African. Almost every race was represented down the one long street the Cruisers drove.
“Do you think this is one of those Peace Corps places?” Callie leaned over Gran to ask Nailah.
Nailah shrugged. “I have
no
idea. I’ve never even heard of the place.”
As they approached the temple, the buildings ended and a courtyard opened around them. There were Cruisers already parked along a tall, stone wall that separated another section of the city from the temple. The soldier driving their vehicle skirted the giant stone fountain in the center of the courtyard and pulled into a spot.
“Ladies, if you’d follow me,” the soldier said brightly. He pushed a button on the dashboard that killed the engine and climbed from the car.
Nailah climbed from the car, and the soldier offered Gran his hand. “Easy, now. Take it slow,” he told her as she slid carefully from the Cruiser.
“Thank you,” Gran said shakily.
The soldier tucked himself beneath one of her arms, while Emma took the other. Callie gingerly stepped from the vehicle and leaned on Nailah with a grateful smile.
The other survivors were being led to the gaping black opening of the temple by their own drivers. Callie felt better being back in the presence of oddly familiar faces. She vaguely remembered reading in the past about the survivors of great tragedies forming close bonds, and she wondered if that would happen to them.
A line of people—three men and three women—awaited them just outside the temple. As Callie had noticed of the population on the drive in, these people were of varying ethnicities as well. Six faces smiled pleasantly as the survivors drew near.
“Looks like we have a welcoming committee,” Nailah whispered to Callie with a chuckle.
Callie grinned as she adjusted her grip on Nailah’s shoulders. “I doubt it’s everyday that a plane crashes on their island. We’re big news.”
A tall, lean man with gleaming brown skin stepped forward from the center of the line. His demeanor was casual, but confident, and he had shiny, dark eyes and a handsome face. He was wearing loose, white linen pants and a pale blue button-down shirt that was rolled at the sleeves. “We would like to welcome you to Aionia! It’s a shame that we must meet under such unpleasant circumstances. We are sorry for the loss and tragedy that you have endured. I do hope you find your stay here as pleasant as possible.”
“How do we get home?” someone shouted from the back.
“Where’s a bathroom?” an old lady’s voice croaked.
“I know you have lots of questions, and we will get to them in due time.” The man’s smile never wavered. “Please, follow us inside, and we will show you to your lodgings so that you may freshen up. We shall all meet back in the main hall in an hour. Anyone that needs medical attention, please follow Gretta.”
An older woman wearing a long floral dress stepped forward from the line. Her gray hair was pulled back in a smooth braid, showcasing a broad forehead, almond eyes, and a beautiful smile. She clapped her hands and said, “Right this way.”
As the non-injured survivors entered the temple, Gretta led them away and across the cobblestone quad to a boxy, stone building with huge wooden doors decorated in cast iron divets. Their guide lifted a heavy latch on one of the doors and pushed. The silent group of injured followed her inside.
The entryway was lit by torches placed in iron holders high on the walls. Callie glanced at Nailah, her eyebrows furrowed. “Do these people not have electricity?”
Nailah cocked her head. “I believe there are islands that don’t. Possibly this is one?”
Gretta turned and smiled. “We have several medical practitioners on hand who will get you fixed up so you can relax before the meeting. There are seven patient rooms down this hallway to your left. If you are with family members, please stay together.”
“This place is neat,” Callie said as the group began to walk down the massive stone hallway Gretta had indicated. It was cool and dim. The walls were block stone and lined with the same old-fashioned torches; they cast flickering patterns on the hall around them.
“Go in the first door available, Cal,” Emma said. She was supporting Gran’s weight with Nailah’s help, while Callie hobbled painfully along on her own. “I don’t think Gran can make it much further.”
“Stop fussing over me” Gran grumbled. “I’m fine.”
“Sure you are.” Emma rolled her eyes.
Callie stopped at the first door. It was cracked open, and the thin space between door and frame was merrily lit by more flickering. She glanced at her family with a raised eyebrow. “I guess this is the place.”
She pushed open the door the rest of the way and stepped inside a miniscule room. It held only a single cot and a deep wooden bench. In one corner was a stand with a crude, clay water basin that held a stack of white towels.
What a lame excuse for a medical room
, Callie thought.
Emma helped Gran get settled on the cot—though she refused to lie down—while Callie plopped onto the bench. Nailah sat next to her and offered to hold Callie’s foot so she could elevate it; she thankfully accepted.
A few moments later, a tall, slender woman with auburn hair tucked back in a clip came in carrying a tray with cups on it. She was wearing a name badge that said
Stacey
, pinned to the front of her white lab coat. She extended the tray and said, “I’m sure you’re all thirsty. Drink this, and you’ll feel much better.”
Callie was surprised to find there was simply water in the cup.
Don’t hospitals usually give juice to people in shock?
Water or juice, she guessed it really didn’t matter. She was terribly thirsty, and finished off her cup in one swallow.
“Now, who’s worst off?” Stacey propped her tray on the water basin and turned around to look at them expectantly.
Emma pointed to Gran. “My mother. She was unconscious for awhile.”
The woman walked to Callie’s grandmother and took a seat next to her on the cot. “What’s your name, hon?”
“Belinda. I’m fine. I just banged my head, that’s all.”
The woman put her hands on either side of Gran’s head and tilted it side to side. She felt both sides of Gran’s neck, and then flashed a tiny flashlight in her eyes. “Everything looks great, Belinda. Your pupils are responding just as they should. Just do me a favor and take it easy for a little while. If you don’t mind, go over to the water basin and wash your face and any other cuts while I look at the rest of your lovely family.”
Nailah and Callie exchanged grins.
Family
. Callie had only known Nailah less than a day, but she
did
feel like family.
I guess that’s what tragedy does
, Callie thought.
It draws strangers together.