Corvus Ultimate: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A Forgotten Dream

Jake had a good sense of direction, but even he could get lost in this maze of ethereal hallways.

The faint sense of familiarity hadn't left during his endless hours of wandering, but he felt trapped. Something gave him the certainty that he was unable to leave, quickly deciding that that inexplicable feeling was more terrifying than any nightmare.

Almost any nightmare. He was about to discover that the hard way.

All of a sudden, a sharp blow to the head sent him reeling against the far wall, causing him to cry out in shock. He clenched his teeth and threw up his arms on instinct. However, no further assault was forthcoming.

He cautiously opened his eyes. The dismal hallway was just as empty as it had been before.

Lowering his guard, he rubbed the sweat off his forehead, leaving a wide stain on the sleeve of his white button-up shirt. He figured that was the least of his worries.

That was before the drill bored into his temple.

At least, that's what it felt like. His fervent screams dropped into choked sobs when he fell to the floor, his surroundings swamped with a red haze of agony. His thoughts became clouded, but he wouldn't pass out. Even as burning stabs of pain sliced farther down into his chest, he remained conscious, writhing on the ground in torment.

--- --- ---

"Call security!" one of the doctors demanded, trying to suppress Jake's fevered struggles on the hospital bed. "He needs to be restrained!"

Another was rifling through a set of cabinets, searching anxiously for a vial of sedative. "I thought you said he was in a coma!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"Does it look like he's in a coma to you, Jenson? Don't answer that! Just shut up and find that soporific!"

Their conversation was interrupted as Jake halted his thrashing for a moment, replacing it with uncontrollable shivering.

"What the..." The doctor pressed his hand against the teen's forehead, drawing it back in surprise. "He's burning up and shaking! What is this? He doesn't have a fever!"

"Who cares? All I know is that we're done for if Jacob Terrace himself deteriorates under our watch!"

"Good point. Where the blazes is that sedative?"

--- --- ---

Jake's limbs began to tremble. Not because his shadowy surroundings had turned cold - in fact, they had become noticeably heated. No, his shivering was caused by the terrifying sense of another presence. The feeling was so palpable that he could practically taste the certainty of one thing.

In these halls, he wasn't alone.

--- --- --- 

"Ruth, my old friend! It's excellent to see you." He spoke with a sophisticated air and gesticulation. His manner was such that, during most of their conversations, Ruth could imagine him elegantly holding a glass of champagne and taking a sip after speaking.

Ruth gave a wan smile. "Ah, Reginald. I'm glad you agreed to come on such short notice. I believe congratulations are in order," she said, trying to keep her tone light. She brushed a lock of hair out of her peripheral vision, a slight tremor shaking her hand. Reginald entered the room and sat in the chair opposite of her.

They were meeting in Ruth's main office. Bookshelves, filled to capacity and gathering dust, lined the walls on either side. Her large desk was a mess of scattered paperwork, and judging by its appearance, the red carpet floor hadn't been vacuumed for quite a while.

The smile dropped from Reginald's handsome features. His tone became grave. "Congratulations...? No, I don't agree." His ice-blue eyes empathized with her, his expression recognizing her uncertain situation. "I'm not the one who needs encouragement at the moment."

"Well, I..." she started, her voice shaking slightly, "Surely we shouldn't make this all about me. After all, your life's endeavor is almost complete! Project Descend." She spoke its name with as much reverence as she could muster. "The largest geothermal power generation complex the world has ever seen. Drilling twice as deep than humanity has ever gone before, supplying clean energy to tens of millions of people! You're the man of the hour, as far as the media is concerned." She folded her hands on the desk to keep them from trembling.

"Oh, Ruth." He sighed. "Project Descend may be of worldwide importance, but the sheer amount of work involved... I had to sacrifice even the idea of a family in order to maintain it. Your life's endeavor is much more important than mine." He reached to lay a hand on hers. His words became soft and cautious. "I heard about Jacob."

Ruth savored his supportive touch for a moment before standing and turning to face the massive window behind her overlooking the mansion's grounds. "The doctors tell me that he's in a... comatose state." She swallowed hard, attempting to keep the backlog of unshed tears from revealing itself. "They're not sure when he'll wake up, if..."

"It's okay. You don't have to talk about it."

Suppressed sobs permeated her speech. "No... N-no, I do. Redge, he... He's all I can think about. Mostly the ways that I failed... All the times that I could've told him what really happened with his father. All the times that I could've told him how much I loved him, all the times I could've held it together when he needed me the most, all the times I could've been there for him and wasn't..."

Reginald, empathizing with her feeling of uselessness, swiftly rose from his chair and moved around the desk to her side. He hesitated for a moment before giving her a gentle embrace. Despite her efforts, the tears flowed freely now, dampening the shoulder of his suit jacket. "I know, Ruth. I know."

He sighed, speaking methodically. "I lost one of my daughters... in a similar situation." He cleared his throat. "She had gone out one night. Said something about her friend's end-of-school party. I... let her go. That was the last time I saw her alive." His words became choked for a moment, but he managed to continue. "The other driver had been intoxicated beyond reason... Kirsten had a chance to pull through, but she wasn't strong or enduring. She was caring, loving, optimistic, always concerned with nature. She could brighten any mood just by being there; she could take any depressing day and make me glad to be alive. Her inner beauty meant she didn't have to be strong."

He pulled away, leaving his hands on her shoulders. There were tears in his eyes as well, though his voice retained its conviction. "Ruth, look at me."

She raised her eyes reluctantly to meet his.

"Jacob isn't like my daughter. He's stubborn, hotheaded, and he has poor judgment... But his will to live is like none other."

He squeezed his grip tighter to emphasize his message. "He even survived an airliner crash! You remember the story- how he escaped and then walked back into the flaming wreck to save that screaming child, risking his life for someone he didn't even know!"

Though she was weeping openly, Ruth managed a small chuckle, burying her tearstained face in Reginald's shoulder again. "All with a shattered femur," she murmured.

Reginald nodded, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips. "Prime Magazine didn't include that in their heroic cover photo."

"But... the countless hours I spent watching the coverage, just waiting to see his name flash on the list of casualties or missing... I can't lose him again. I can't."

"He was only fourteen then. Trust me; he's taken more of a beating than a simple car wreck before. When he wakes up, you'll have your chance to be there for him, even to tell him what really happened with his father Thomas when you can find the strength. I know that he'll be just fine."