By The Firelight

The vertigo subsided and Claire was able to begin focusing her vision. The cacophony around her filled her ears, but it was all background noise. She was sure that, were a pin to drop on the floor in front of her, she would hear it as clear as a church bell ringing on a bright Sunday morning. Her mind’s eye was still mired in the shock and sorrow of watching Eric die again, the swift incineration of his uniform and skin as unforgettable to her now as the moment he dropped to one knee and proposed to her. Yet, as the world came into focus, there he stood. Where only a moment ago the world was confusion and flame, Eric again stood before his company barking orders.

Then she heard it, “Oh my god!”

Was it her own thoughts? It certainly wasn’t her mouth, fo that she was fully aware. But her ears actually heard herself say those words. Claire’s eyes thinned and her brow furrowed, wondering if this was just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Who are you?” said her voice, but not her voice.

She slowly shook her head ‘no’, then turned to the voice, her voice, coming from her left. Claire’s eyes bulged to the point of causing her pain. “Oh god!”

Time seemed frozen as the two Claires stared at each other, the entirety of the world around them forgotten. Claire watched as her twin?… clone?… other?... sat in silent shock. She then saw her face twist into something akin to anger.

“ERIC!!” she yelled over the din.

Claire looked over at Eric as he interrupted his commands and turned on his heels. She could never adequately explain the expression that bloomed on Eric’s face, and the faces of those behind them that were seeing the same. His mouth began to open to say something, and that’s when the bullets started flying. The outside world came into sharp focus; the screams of pain and death of the soldiers hit by the bullets, the sound of those bullets exploding through the concrete and sheet metal of the building, the sound of the thumping blades of the helicopters firing the bullets from outside, the sound of the explosions of battle behind them. A line of concrete spray ran across the floor in her direction. She watched several of the soldiers jump out of the way, and several others drop where they stood. Eric dove to her left, and without thinking, Claire did the same. When she reached the floor, the other Claire was beneath her and screaming.

“We gotta get out of here!” said the other in Claire’s ear.

Both of them quickly got to their feet and snapped their heads in Eric’s direction.

“Eric!” they cried in unison.

He heard them and nodded quickly, pointing to the wall behind them. The bullets had torn a ragged hole in the sheet metal just large enough for a human body to fit through. As he ran to the hole, Eric picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Both Claires watched in awe as, right before going through the hole, Eric spun, jumped in the air, lowered his chin to his chest, and plunged through it. He left behind a larger hole, and Claire grabbed her other and pulled her through, the rain of bullets never letting up.

The spotlights from the choppers above lit upon them as they gathered themselves and began to run. Only moments had passed when the Claires heard Eric scream. He lay on the ground grabbing at his calf, the blood was everywhere. The women ran back to him and lifted him up between them, no word was spoken between them. Uncannily, both women drug Eric in the same direction, their goals one and the same. Between the rusted cargo trailers, across the parking lot, they went, and found relative solace within the tree line that surrounded the empty crop field next to the buildings. Every step seemed a lifetime in the ongoing attack, but it took no time until they turned to the right and made their way to the entrance circle to the industrial park.

The Claires barely looked up as they approached the Upper Perk Police cruiser parked there, taking no mind that the vehicle was miraculously unharmed. Bodies littered the open area, but there was no time for nausea to set in. The other Claire opened the rear passenger door, and they threw Eric inside, the injured man letting out a pained grunt. Claire opened the other passenger door and told her other to get in.

In moments, the cruiser was speeding down the access roads, eventually turning right onto Route 100. It was all Claire could do to keep on the road while her other was removing her belt to put a tourniquet on Eric’s leg. She glanced out the passenger side window to see the carnage within the industrial park. The attack was incredibly successful, and she could see the orange glow growing where the buildings stood just a few minutes before.

The engine roared as Claire came to the sharp right turn. Too late, she saw the debris in the road, and her speed was too great to safely avoid it. With a loud bang, the driver’s side rear tire exploded, and the cruiser fishtailed. Yanking the steering wheel to the left, Claire tried to compensate, but the car was beyond her control. They had completed a near 360 degree turn when the rear end caught the grass on the edge of the road. The cruiser’s momentum forced the car into a roll, it three occupants jostled violently inside. It came to a rest some fifty feet from the road, the rear wheels still spinning as the engine sputtered out.

Claire had no idea how much time had passed when she came to, but she saw her other and Eric kneeling down and staring at her.

“Are you alright?” asked the other.

Claire rolled her eyes and snorted derisively, “That depends on what you mean by ‘alright’.”

“This is no time to be cynical, Claire,” Eric said with no hesitation.

The other Claire turned her gaze upon him, her expression one of annoyance. “Give me your hand,” she said, turning back to her.

Through her pain, Claire grabbed her hand and inched out of the vehicle. Every movement made her groan as she felt the shards of glass scrape across her skin. She felt the bump forming on her head, the pain thumping out in waves of heat over her scalp. Eric reached out and grabbed her other hand. Once out of the cruiser, more groans escaped when she stood, joined by the groans of the other two as they stood with her. All three looked back at the vehicle on its roof, then turned to face each other.

“Who are you?” asked Eric, his expression changing quickly from pained to curious. “Where did you come from?”

“I’m… Claire. I’m… her,” and she pointed to the other Claire. “But I’m not her. I’m… me.” She took a deep breath, unable to find out a way to explain something she couldn’t explain. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to tell you. This is the second place I’ve been to that isn’t my home.”

“Your home?” asked Eric. “Where did you come from?”

Claire raised her eyebrows in annoyance, “Not here!”

More explosions went off to their northwest. As best he could, Eric picked up his pace and waived the women to follow him.

“We can’t stay here. Let’s go.”

The trio made their way up the slight grade, keeping the road at a distance. It wasn’t long before they reached a tree line and a small, forested area. They continued silently through the trees and the small community on the other side. Dozens of homes stood empty, cars rusting in the driveways, and an eerie silence settled in amid the continuing explosions slowly receding from their hearing. They kept their heads on a swivel, but they saw nobody. Keeping to the trees as much as they could, Eric spotted the tall towers carrying the high tension wires. He decided they would head toward them and the trees that disrupted the view of their bases. There was bound to be a clearing that they could hide in and get a fire going.

It was maybe forty-five minutes until they were all seated around a small, but growing, fire. The warmth was not entirely necessary, as the night was relatively mild. The noise of the battle had died and, Eric guessed, was nearly over. The Federalists had made their move. We have to find a way back to Allentown, it’s our only hope, thought Eric, working the beginnings of the plan in his head. He looked over at the two Claires, his Claire seated in her fatigues and staring off into the fire. The other Claire, dressed in oversized police coveralls, sat staring at him, but not really at him.

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked her, his tone hushed and concerned.

Claire’s focus snapped to when he spoke, and he saw in her face a longing. “I don’t even remember. It’s been a long day.”

Eric reached into his pack and pulled out an MRE. Her expression deflated as she caught it.

“You look like you’ve had these before,” a wry smile appearing as he spoke.

“Yeah… they were our lunches at Fell’s,” and she looked into the fire, holding the meal in her hands as her mind relived the two days she worked in the plant.

“You worked at Fell’s?” It was this world’s Claire speaking, the sound of her unnerving the other.

“Yup. The last world I was in, it was changed into an ammunition factory by the government.”

This time it was Eric’s eyes that snapped to. His intense look sent a shiver through her.

“You worked for the Federalists!” his voice was hushed but accusatory.

“The Federalists? I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I know is that we were making ammunition to fight the rebels. The only reason I’m up this way is because something told me I had to find you… the you from the last world. The government had recalled you because of your prior experience. The line was being held here. But there was no war in my original world. At least not yet. I’m so goddamn confused!” And she put her face in her hands, dropping the MRE to her feet.

“I fought for the government?! Why the hell would I do that?!” He stood tall and defiant against her words.

“Who controls the government here?”

“The fuckin’ Reds,” the venom in his words magnified the rage he felt.

“Not in that world. The ‘Reds’… Federalists… whatever, they were the rebels. In that world, and my world, we were known as ‘the Blues’. All I wanted to do was to find you, Eric.” She reached down and picked up her MRE, tears now streaming down her face.

“You can’t have him,” the other Claire finally speaking up. “He’s my Eric.” Claire quickly erected her mental wall as she watched the other speak and point at her own chest.

She snorted at her cynically and said, “It’s not like it really matters.” She looked back to Eric, struggling to keep it together. “I’ve watched you die… twice. I’m just waiting for it to happen again.”

Eric’s face went pale. “Jesus… This is really happening. Why are you here… do you think?”

Claire realized that she missed that quizzical look of his, and her heart yearned for the world of a few days ago. Eric was incredibly intelligent. She always wished that she could match his intellect, but she always had a leg up on him in the arena of common sense. This thought made her laugh on the inside. All she wished for was to be pinched hard enough to wake up from this surrealistic nightmare.

“Best guess? I have to find John Friedman and kill him.”

Eric’s eyes went big as plates and his eyebrows climbed high on his forehead. “Fuckman? You have to kill Fuckman?”

Other Claire laughed hysterically. She took a breath and said, “Good luck with that!” and continued laughing.

“You’ll never reach that piece of shit,” and he stared down at the ground shaking his head.

“Why? Where is he?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

“The ‘Red Hero’ is down in Philly.” Eric sat down in a huff, his own MRE in his hands. “That son of a bitch was the one that started all of this. He betrayed us! He allowed those fuckin’ Reds to overrun the Valley, cutting off the lifeline between Philly and Allentown. Philly fell immediately after. He’s down there as a fake hero, suckin’ the cocks of the Red brass and selling war bonds.”

“I have to find him, Eric. I may never get home if I don’t.” Claire opened her MRE and began to eat mechanically, barely able to taste the already bland food within.

“Is that why you chose to go south?” he asked. “The only thing to the south is the enemy.”

“I was headed back home, I figured that was the best place to find John,” she shrugged her shoulders and sighed.

“You can’t go there, it’s behind enemy lines. We’re behind enemy lines now, in fact,” he said, looking down at his rifle to make sure it was still locked and loaded.

“Then why was she there?” Claire looked up again from her food at this world’s Claire, her expression mildly accusatory.

The two looked each other in the eyes, their silent conversation as transparent as a window. She could understand why they would withhold information from her. But she couldn’t expect them to keep the secret when they were outed.

“I brought the police cruiser up in the last world, yet she,” pointing to Other Claire, “knew the car was there already. We both knew where to go. She was just there…”

“I was a prisoner,” she turned her gaze to Claire. “It was my fourth run smuggling MREs from the Reds. I was turned in by my ex-husband… our ex-husband… well… you know what I mean. Anyway, he saw me driving the truck and shot out a tire. It wasn’t long until their military police showed up and locked me in the Valley’s jail. I was there for two weeks before I was busted out. Some woman named Julie, I had never met her before. She said that it was important that she get me out.”

Julie! This just keeps getting weirder and weirder… Claire’s eyes must’ve betrayed her thoughts.

“You know her, don’t you, Claire?” It was Eric that asked the question. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew that he was reaching some sort of understanding about what was going on.

“I did…”

“Why don’t you just stay here with us?” The question was a surprise from Other Claire, as she didn’t really seem to have a soft spot for her. “We can use all of the help we can get.”

Claire shook her head again, taking a moment to chew and swallow. “I don’t think I can. I wanted to stay in the last world, but things got all screwed up. I’m just waiting for that to happen again.”

She made no mention of the trenchcoat man, she felt no need to divulge more information than necessary. She never expected that she’d have to hide information from Eric and herself, Tit for tat, I suppose. Plus, something felt… off. Big surprise! Claire wouldn’t mind not seeing him anytime soon. Despite the fact that she now knew she didn’t have to fear his harming her, she still felt uncomfortable around him. Chaos followed him. And his Russell Brand accent irritated her. She always thought the comedian smug and overly intellectual. She had liked him a lot better when he was just a comedian.

Of course, right on queue, Claire followed the urge to look up from her food and saw the trenchcoat man behind a tree. She closed her eyes and sighed silently to herself. Son of a bitch! came Dean Winchester. Placing her food on the ground to her side, she stood and excused herself, telling the other two that she needed to relieve herself.

“Be careful,” said Eric and glanced to his Claire.

Her eyes were wide with insistence, and she gestured the ‘watch her’ sign with her right hand. She then mouthed the words, somebody’s out there. Eric picked up his rifle, his face became as expressionless as a statue. Neither Eric nor Other Claire could hear any words spoken, but she knew that she had seen somebody. A strange feeling had invaded her, and she felt the urge to look to the trees. She was certain that she had seen a brimmed hat in the distance, behind a tree. That’s when the new Claire had excused herself. Maybe she is working for the ‘Reds’!

Eric brought his rifle up to the ready and quietly stepped into the darkness of the surrounding trees. Being the middle of October, there were not a whole lot of leaves on the ground, giving him more leeway to be quicker without having to worry about noise. The moments passed slowly as Other Claire watched down the clearing in the direction new Claire had went and Eric had followed. Then she heard, “Fine! Whatever!” She watched as Claire and the strange person came out of hiding and made their way towards her.

“Hold it!” Eric stepped out from behind a tree and pointed the rifle at the two of them. “Who the hell are you?”

Other Claire could see that this new person was a man in a trenchcoat and a fedora. She couldn’t see his face, but she did see him drop his head and shoulders when Eric spoke.

“You Americans and your guns! Does it ever end? This is why I spent so much time near London. The Brits are so much more even-headed.”

New Claire looked back at the trenchcoat man and then to Eric. “You can’t kill him, Eric. Believe me.”

Eric adjusted his rifle’s aim to New Claire. “Fine, I can kill you.”

Trenchcoat Man moved like lightning and grabbed the rifle by the barrel and pointed it to the sky. “No… You can’t kill her, either. I won’t allow that.”

Eric strained against the man’s strength, but to no avail. Other Claire was unsure what to think. Eric was anything but weak, but this man was so strong it made Eric seem no stronger than a child. She could see, even in the faint firelight illuminating the three, that he was no match against the man’s grip on the rifle. She watched as Eric nodded and let go of the weapon. Eric, what are you doing?! She wanted to scream it, but she knew better.

“C’mon, let’s go. Discussion time,” said the Trenchcoat Man, pointing with the rifle still in his hand.

Trenchcoat Man set the rifle against a tree as he entered the clearing. The light showed that he was a man of color, Middle Eastern by the looks of him, as he removed his hat. New Claire and Eric took the spots they had previously, and the Trenchcoat man took another seat on a rotting log across from her. Eric wasted no time.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked with more than a little indignant anger.

“Well…,” he hesitated while glancing in New Claire’s direction. “I’m Gabriel.”

Both Claires shifted their stares to him, the same expression of surprise on both faces. Then they looked at each other, and Eric could tell that they were having the same thought. During Claire’s first marriage, twelve years of her life that she referred to as ‘hell’, she had had two miscarriages. It was an issue that caused her a lot of internal pain, and she and Eric spoke of it often, wishing that her boys, Gabriel and Nathaniel, could’ve been their children.

Eric felt bad for interrupting their moment of remembrance, “Ok, you’re Gabriel. What makes you think you can’t be killed?”

He knew he deserved the look of contempt from Gabriel. The display of strength he showed made it obvious to Eric that the man was something special. However, Eric still wanted to evince a sense of being a danger to him. It was the human way.

“To put it succinctly, I’m an angel.” His matter-of-fact tone was off-putting.

“Where are your wings, flyboy?” Eric’s cynicism was undeniable.

“You always were the healthy skeptic, Eric. I’m not that kind of angel. Those characters were nothing more than fancy in the Good Book. But rest assured that I am.”

“What are you doing here, then? You obviously enjoy merry old England. What has your interest here? The war?”

Both Claires smiled to themselves, taking pride in knowing that Eric could indulge in his lines of questioning. He always knew the right things to say and ask.

“Heavens, no!” answered Gabriel. “You Americans love your wars. I would never get in the way of that. Point of fact, I find it rather mind-blowing that this is only the second civil war you’ve Yanks have had. You hate each other with such vitriol that it’s quite impressive, really.”

“Then what’s your endgame?”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” Gabriel smiled at Eric derisively. “Perhaps I gave you too much credit. I’m here for her.”

Gabriel pointed at New Claire, much to the surprise of Eric and Other Claire. Claire wasn’t really affected by his admission, their little conversation this morning, in the other world, gave that much away. And putting the clues together, she was Gabriel’s game piece on the chessboard of multiple realities to rid those worlds of John Friedman.

“Wrong again, love,” Gabriel replied to her thoughts. “John Friedman, in this world, is already dead. Our red-eyed friend has already gotten to him.”

Claire became exasperated. “Then what the hell am I doing here?!”

“You’re not ready for that information quite yet, Claire.”

She was about to speak when Other Claire spoke first, “If her and I are the same person, then she’s never going to be ready for that information. I know I wouldn’t be… I’m not. I’m sitting here looking at myself, and it’s not me! I have a hard enough time dealing with this goddamn war, and now this?!”

“It’s a bit over the top, isn’t it?” Gabriel broke out that matter-of-fact tone again, and a single look between the Claires made it clear that they both wanted to punch him in the face.

“Can you be a little more forthcoming, Gabriel? A couple of hours ago I was ready to take my soldiers into battle, now here we are talking about wildly implausible events with two Claires! Seriously! I’ve lived my life always wondering about the whether the Many-Worlds Theory was true or not. Now I know it’s real, and I’m more confused than I was before!” Eric, who had been raising his hands ever higher as he spoke, now slammed them down in his lap.

“Right… You’re the sciency type. Yes, multiple realities are absolutely true, and people like me can move between them.”

“And Claire, too?”

“Well…,” Gabriel began to answer. “Yes and no. That Claire,” and he pointed to Other Claire, “she cannot. This one, yes.”

Other Claire stood with a huff, “What makes her so special? We’re the same person!”

New Claire looked from Gabriel to Other Claire and back to Gabriel, trying to take all of this in. She thought that she was beginning to make some sense of this, but it turns out that she understood no more than she did before.

“She, and I, for that matter, are primes.”

“Firsts…,” said Eric with an air of understanding. “The one from which all others are derived.”

“Precisely!” A smile spread across Gabriel’s face, “Well done, my boy! Yes, the first of ‘her’.”

The curious look returned quickly to Eric’s face, “But we all have primes, Gabriel. Why are you so interested in Claire?”

“That, Mr. Wells, is sensitive information that I’m not at liberty to divulge.”

“You pretentious prick!” Eric exploded in quiet rage. “You throw her into a situation that none of us can understand, and you’re gonna withhold information from us!”

“Eric!” yelled both Claires in unison.

“We can help you, Gabriel! Let us!” He replaced his rage with a beggar’s tone. “There must be something we can do.”

Gabriel stared at Eric as a father would a saddened son. “I’m sorry, Eric, but there is nothing you can do here. This is a journey that only Claire can travel. Prime Claire, that is.” He passed his gaze over the women and back to Eric. “The best thing you can do right now is get some rest. You’ll need it.”

And with that, Gabriel disappeared. New Claire rolled her eyes and said, “You get used to him doing that. It’s annoying.”

They finished their meager meals in silence, Other Claire sitting close to Eric. He spread out the coals to douse the flames but maintain the heat. Then they laid down and attempted to sleep. Claire stared at the sky, full of stars, and drifted off to sleep, jealous about being the Claire that had to sleep alone. If John Friedman is not my goal, then what is? It was the last thought she had before sleep took her.

The gunshot and the scream shocker her awake, and she sat up so fast her head started to swim. The scream came from Other Claire, and she lay face down at her feet still screaming. Eric was already standing and firing into the surrounding woods. Claire rushed to the Other Claire’s aid and saw the blood blooming from her shoulder. The gunfire continued from the woods, and Claire couldn’t tell how many were shooting at them. The vibrations began in earnest, inside of her.

“Stay down!” Eric yelled, positioning himself behind a tree trunk and firing the rifle as quickly as he could.

Remembering all of the movies and television shows she watched growing up, Claire took her hands and pressed on both sides of Other Claire’s shoulder to stop the bleeding. Then cam Gabriel’s voice in her mind. You have to kill her, Claire! The gunfight continued, and as she concentrated on her other’s shoulder to stave off the growing fear inside of her, a single thought was sent back to the angel. I can’t!

Shards of wood and dirt exploded all around her, and she could now hear the voices of the encroaching gunmen. She looked up at Eric, who was reloading his rifle, and screamed as a bullet went through his shoulder. The force spun him around and sent him to the ground.

“AAHH!! God damn it!” He squirmed for a moment and then refocused to finish loading the rifle. “Claire, you and her have to get out of here!”

Claire, she is dying! You have to kill her before she dies! Gabriel’s pleas became frantic. As if the angel had the ability to physically influence her, she watched as her hands released Other Claire’s shoulder and went to her head. The tears began to stream down her face again.

“I can’t!” she cried out to Gabriel.

“Yes, you can, Claire! You have to!” yelled Eric over the gunfire, thinking she was speaking to him.

Suddenly, Gabriel was there shielding her from the incoming gunfire. “Claire… please!”

“Gabriel, we can save her!”

Eric stopped shooting when he realized that Gabriel had returned. He saw how Claire was grasping his Claire’s head. “No!!!”

“KILL HER!!!”

She focused all of her attention on the thuds of the bullets going into Gabriel’s back, then twisted Other Claire’s head as swiftly and forcefully as she could. A sound much like that of ripping a leg off of a roasted turkey reached her ears, and she was immediately nauseous. She began to sob.

“GO… NOW!” Gabriel grabbed her and hauled her to her feet. “Go!” His eyes steeled her against her own emotions, and she turned and ran.

As she put distance between herself and Gabriel as quickly as she could, she realized that Eric had gotten to his feet and attempted to follow her. She heard him fire his rifle, and she heard the bullets fly past her and into the trees to either side. “Why?!” he yelled through his tears. Claire dared enough to slow down and look back at him. In the moonlight, she saw his form standing there and shooting in her direction. Then he wasn’t. Eric’s body went limp and fell to the ground.

She ran until her lungs were on fire, her legs felt like jello, and she just couldn’t go on any longer. The entire time she had one thought, Eric, honey, I have watched you die three times now. How many more times must I see it? She finally collapsed in some dense woods and passed out, hoping that she would not be found.

Continue following Claire on her strange journey using the following link for Chapter 8:

Soul Searching