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"Q.E.D." Part 30
When the bullet shattered the valve of the light fixture, the
previously innocuous glow consumed the bulk of its fuel in one,
dazzling swallow, destroying the wall behind Helena with a fist
of flame, and throwing the two men back into the hallway. Like
a spectre from a Freudian nightmare, Helena's body was hurled
forward, her dead fingers still clutching the keys to the locked
rooms. And the frontroom writhed in the grip of the fire, which,
for several minutes, was the only source of animation in the
unholy tableau.
Stefan's lungs burned when he tried to breathe, but he forced
himself to inhale what precious air the fire had not already
taken for itself. He crawled forward, toward his mother's body,
and reached for the keys, and found himself staring into her still-open eyes.
Unmarred by her bitterness, untouched by her hatred,
and unilluminated by her madness, they looked almost beautiful
to him, and he felt a sudden sense of loss for the woman he
would never know.
"CASSADINE! Where the hell are you?!" Luke's voice was barely
audible over the fire.
"Here. I've got the keys!" Stefan hollered in response as he
crawled back to the hallway. Once out of the room, he retrieved
the fallen flashlight and limped to the foot of the staircase, to
where Luke was waiting. He pulled a key off the ring and handed
it to him. "Here," he said. "The nursery is the last door to the
right, at the top of the stairs."
Luke started to bolt up the steps, and then turned around, nodding
at the approaching fire. "I don't know if I'm gonna be able to
make a return trip, but I'll try..."
"I understand." Stefan said, pronouncing Luke Spencer's
absolution and the fate of a father and son in the span of two
words.
Stefan ignored the frantic messages traveling the lengths of
dendrites, which connected his brain to his wounded leg in a
continuous dialogue of pain, and hauled himself up the flight of
stairs. When he reached the second floor, he could hear Luke
calling Lesley Lu's name, and he felt a mild touch of solace when
he heard the child's responding cry.
The smoke grew thicker as he ascended the stairs to the third
floor, and it became like a physical obstacle, impeding his
progress. He was vaguely aware of the Cassadine family
portraits as they passed briefly through his peripheral vision.
Their faces looked blissfully unconcerned at the thought of their
impending extinction.
He arrived at the third floor, and pulled open the sconce. He
fumbled with the keys, his fingers clumsy with fatigue, acutely
aware of the fire encroaching on the stairwell below. The wall
opened finally, and he mounted the last of the stairs, his eyes
fixed on the massive steel door. He inserted the remaining key
into the lock, and the door swung open, the beam of his flashlight
illuminating the fallen figure of his son, overcome by the fumes
choking the poorly ventilated room.
"NIKOLAS!" Stefan cried, and ran to his side, placing two
trembling fingers on the side of Nikolas' neck. He smiled at the
touch of a faint pulse, but his relief was short-lived, as he saw
the ominous shadows of the blaze looming outside of the only
visible exit. He moved to the door and pushed it shut, the locking
mechanism sealing the room off with an air of finality.
He crawled back to his son, gasping for breath, knowing that he,
too, would lose consciousness within a matter of minutes. Tears
burned at his eyes, as he pulled Nikolas' body in for a last
embrace. "I'm so sorry, Nikolas..." he said. And he wished, more
than anything, for one last word, one last glance, one last flicker
of movement, but Nikolas did not stir. So he kissed Nikolas'
forehead, as he had done many times in the past after reading
pages of bedtime stories, and followed with the words he'd
always longed to say: "Sleep well, my son."
Darkness closed in on his peripheral vision, and his eyes became
drawn to the only light in the room. He followed the beam of the
flashlight as it burrowed through the smoke, coming to rest on
the fireplace. He felt an odd sense of serendipity, as he looked at
his son and then back at the dark hearth, and decided to spend his
final moments in the pursuit of an utterly selfish goal.
He dragged Nikolas to the fireplace, and opened the flue,
illuminating the dark chamber with a shaft of daylight. And
although the hot smoke was drawn to the chimney, the cool,
outside air managed to push its way in. He inhaled the fresh air
and transferred it to his son, trying to revive him with artificial
respiration, and was rewarded by the sight of a precious
reprieve.
Nikolas' eyes fluttered open, and he reached up to touch his father's face.
"Uncle... father... is that you? You're alive?"
Stefan wiped his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to clear away his
tears, "Yes ... for the time being," he replied.
"My sister?"
"She is safe. Luke has her."
Trapped in a dichotomy of joy and grief, Stefan was
instantly sorry that he had awakened him. What right did he have
to prolong his son's death? But when he saw the look on Nikolas'
face, he absolved himself.
"I searched for a way out," Nikolas said. "But I couldn't find
one.... I'm sorry."
Stefan pulled Nikolas to him for a hug. "No... I am the one who is
sorry. I should have told you everything. I love you ... son."
"I love you too, father. I already knew... but I thought you were
dead." He offered a weak smile. "When I woke up just now, and
saw your face in this beam of light... I thought to myself: Maybe
death isn't so bad after all. At least I'll enjoy the company..."
Stefan smiled back, "Perhaps you're right."
The two men sat looking up at the sliver of blue sky visible
through the metal door of the flue, and Stefan wondered absently
if the light spilling in from the chimney was anything like the
Great Light reportedly seen by those who had been close to death.
Rather presumptuous of me, he thought, to assume that a
heavenly guide would appear at my demise. I have much to
answer for.
But out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. His own, personal
savior, glittering in the sunlight above the opening to the flue.
"Nikolas!" he said. "Move away from the fireplace floor."
"Why?"
"Just do as I say! Now! There's a second lever up here."
Nikolas scrambled out of the way, while Stefan stood to side of
the hearth and grasped the metal handle, pulling it with all of his
strength. Emitting a loud groan, as if rudely awakened, the floor
of the fireplace opened up, revealing Alexie's hidden passage.
The faint light from above revealed metal rungs attached to the
brick wall of the chimney, and Stefan reached over grabbed
Nikolas' arm, guiding him into the opening. "Come on! Let's go!"
Their descent was like tunneling through hell, as they baked in
the heat of the fire surrounding them. The metal rungs grew hot
to the touch, burning their fingers as they passed the lower two
floors, which were now all but consumed by the fire. When they
finally reached the basement, the cool, dank air of the adjacent
tunnel seemed like an arctic blast to them, and they slumped
against the rock wall, allowing the chill to wash over them.
Stefan shined his flashlight down one of the stone corridors. "We
can reach the surface through this passage, which is, thankfully,
much shorter than my incoming route." And he smiled. "I have no
intention of repeating the odyssey that brought me here in the
first place."
Nikolas helped his father to his feet, "I haven't been down this
way before. Where does this one come out?"
"A short distance from the house," Stefan replied. "I hope that,
by some chance, Luke Spencer is nearby to witness our
miraculous resurrection. The sight of two dead Cassadines
crawling out of the earth should be enough to confirm any number
of his paranoid speculations."
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