Chapter Thirty-three

Life and Death

"As long as life is long, I'll love him right or wrong, and somehow I'll be strong, as long as he needs me. If you are lonely, then you will know…when someone needs you, you love them so. I won't betray his trust, though people say I must. I've got to stay true just…as long as he needs me…" -Oliver!

Erik did not struggle when several of the men lifted him off the ground. He felt nothing anymore. Christine was gone. It hurt him to the core that she'd decided once again to betray him, but his anger towards her was fading. Christine had scarcely changed since the day she'd first come to the opera house; she was still like a child. She was too easily manipulated by others, so much so that she never knew what she truly wanted. He could not bring himself to blame her for what had happened.

But everything was over between them now. The Angels of Music were no more.

But what hurt him more than anything, more than Christine's betrayal, or the gunshot wound, or his the cuts on his face and the bruises on his body was the sight of Alana's face when he'd confessed to her that all Damien had said was true. At first he'd thought she didn't believe it, but then he saw her disappointment, and he saw her slowly turn her back on him. He saw her leave.

And that was when Erik resigned himself to his fate. He gave up and let the men carry him to the river's edge, and before he knew it, he felt himself plunging into the icy depths. He sank until he'd nearly reached the bottom, the current of the water pulling him along slightly. He could see some of his own blood floating around him, but the frigid water numbed his pain, and he was grateful that he could die feeling nothing at all.

Death is coming, soon, so soon…

He'd so often wished to die, and now it was finally time to move on, to begin a journey to whatever awaited him. A world beyond this one. A world completely unfamiliar to him, though he could guess at what it would be like.

No more beauty. No more music. No more Alana.

Alana.

I'll miss her so…

You don't have to do this.

It's too late, and I can't go on in a world where she's turned her back on me…

You can't go on to a world where she isn't there at all…

Get out of the water!

Suddenly, Erik was seized with an overwhelming panic. He kicked off from the pebbly river bottom, and made for the surface as fast as he could. His arms and legs didn't want to move, but he forced them to. His lungs were screaming for air, and his vision was growing dark. He knew he was drowning. If he didn't make it to the surface soon, he'd be dead.

But with one final push, his head came above water. Coughing and gasping for air, he tried to make for shore, but the current at the surface was strong and it pulled him quickly downstream. At times he was dragged down back beneath the water, and he feared again that he would drown, but he managed to keep his head up long enough to take those lifesaving breaths.

Erik didn't know how long he could keep this up. His entire being was nothing but weariness. He had to survive, he had to, but he wasn't sure he could. He needed to swim to the riverbank, but the current was too strong. The river dashed him up against tall rocks, and he didn't know how much more he could take before he was either cut to pieces or drowned. He had to get out of the water somehow. As the current dragged him onward, he glimpsed through the spray a large rock not so far off downstream, near the shore. He was going to hit it dead on, and his only chance for survival was to hold on and climb up the rock, crawl across it, and slide down it to the ground.

He braced himself for the impact, and then, he was slammed against the rock. It was wet and slippery, and he scrambled to find a hand or foothold. Finally, he found one, and somehow he strained until he found the strength to drag himself slowly, painfully, to the top of the rock.

There he collapsed, coughing up water from his lungs and gasping for breath. Erik was still numb from the cold water so he could not feel his injuries as much as he knew he would later, but his entire body was sore all over. He was tired, so, so tired.

I'll just rest here for a while, he thought, until I get the strength to move again.

Maybe I'm already dying.

I can't die.

I can't leave her.

Even if she left me, I have to stay here. Stay alive.

I won't die, I'll just close my eyes for a moment, and rest.

You're dying.

I will not let myself die!

It doesn't matter what you think, you're still going to die…

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Alana had been running alongside the river's edge, looking for any sign of Erik. She was beginning to lose hope. He'd probably sunk right to the bottom when they'd thrown him into the water, and drowned.

He's probably dead.

No, she told herself. No. He can't be dead.

But how could he possibly survive this? She knew he was strong, but she didn't know if he was strong enough to pull through, if anyone could endure that much suffering.

There was a sudden pain in her foot, and she found herself falling forward. She looked down at her bare foot, and saw that she'd cut herself on a sharp stone, blood starting to ooze from the scrape. She got up painfully and continued to limp along, fresh tears running down her face as her hope dwindled even further.

But then she saw something.

A boulder that started on the riverbank and reached into the water. Spray splashed up all around the rock, washing over something that looked like…

That looked like a man.

Alana broke into a run and climbed up onto the rock, nearly tumbling headlong into the river as she tried to move across the slippery wet surface. "Erik!" she shouted over the sound of the rushing water. Slowly, she edged across the rock until she was close enough to touch him. She reached out and took his arm, shaking him slightly. "Erik!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Erik was walking toward a gigantic black gate. He could see nothing beyond it but pillars of smoke and ash rising up to what should have been the sky.

But somehow there was no sky.

He could smell something like burnt, rotten flesh, and he could hear people screaming. He swore he heard his own voice among the screams.

Slowly, slowly, the black gates began to slide open, and he felt a blast of heat upon his face. He was moving toward the gates. He didn't want to go, but he was being drawn in, and he couldn't stop himself from walking forward.

Suddenly, Erik thought he heard someone calling his name.

Then, his feet stopped moving. He turned and looked behind him.

He saw an angel.

At least, he thought it was an angel. It was a being that shone so brilliantly that he couldn't even look directly at it. He shaded his eyes from the bright light, and he heard that voice saying,

"Come back. You do not belong here, and it is not yet your time. Come back."

"Come back, Erik. Please. I can't live without you…"

Erik slowly opened his eyes. His vision was clouded, but when it began to clear he turned his head and looked up into the face of the angel.

Wait. That's not the angel. Or is it?

"Alana?" His voice was hoarse and barely audible, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Yes," she said, and this time, he knew for sure that she was with him. He felt her soft hands on his face, the side that was not scarred and deformed. "It's me. Oh, thank God you're alive."

Alive…

He looked at her, confused. "You…you left…"

"I know," Alana said tearfully. "I didn't know what else to do. But after I'd gone, I hid, and waited for the men to leave. And then I ran to find you…"

"But…why?" Erik didn't understand.

"I couldn't leave you!" She took his hand. "I know what Damien and the others said back there. I don't even know how I feel about that and I haven't had time to think about it. But there was one thing I did know without having to think about." She laced her fingers with his. "I couldn't let anything more happen to you. I love you too much."

Erik's eyes widened. What? You what? How…?

"Now I know you're very hurt, and tired," she was saying, "but we're going to have to move back onto the shore. I can help you, but you're going to have to help me. You're going to have to pull yourself along, too. Can you do it?"

Though he was far past exhaustion, Erik now felt a new drive inside him. He had to live. He had to get back to shore. "Yes," he whispered. She loves me…?

Alana took his arm. "Ready?"

She pulled slightly, and he slowly pushed himself forward with his other arm. To move was agony, but he had to go on. Inch by inch, he crawled across the surface of the rock until Alana had stepped down from the boulder.

"Now how are we going to get you down?" she wondered out loud.

Erik tried to raise himself; he pushed up with his arms until he was nearly in a sitting position, ignoring her cries of protest.

"Stop! You're going to hurt yourself even more!"

But there was no other way to get down. He slowly, carefully slid himself off the rock. His feet touched the ground, but they immediately gave out. He felt himself falling, and then Alana grabbing hold of him, trying to steady him. But both were off-balance, and he was much heavier than she was, so both of them were sent crashing to the ground.

He winced and groaned before he saw Alana's startled face beneath his, so close. He realized he was probably crushing her, so he forced himself to move slightly to the side, and she slid out from under him. He sank back into the grass and closed his eyes, gasping from the pain.

"Shh, it's all right," Alana was saying to him. "I'm here, and I'm going to take care of you. Don't worry. Everything will be…"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"fine," she finished saying. But how in the world am I going to help him? Just look at him!

Alana gazed in horror at Erik's broken body. He had cuts and bruises all over him, not to mention the gunshot wound…and his face. His poor face, all mangled.

The water seemed to have washed away much of the blood that had been coming from the bullet hole and some of his other injuries. She pulled away the soaked fabric of his tattered shirt and looked closer at the gunshot wound. Was the bullet still inside of him? And if it was, how on earth was she going to get it out?

"Erik?" she asked. He gave a faint moan in response. "Erik, I need to turn you over, just a little. To see if the bullet is still inside you." She watched him bite his lip and slowly, she helped him turn over onto his side.

His shirt was almost nonexistent in the back, hanging mostly in loose tatters. But that was not what made Alana gasp.

Erik had horrible, hideous scars all across his back. And they were not new. They seemed to have been there for a very long time, traced across his skin like jagged bolts of lightning. Oh my God. What kind of life have you known?

Alana shook her head and made herself focus. The bullet hole was still visible on this side, and after a close examination of the wound, she found that the bullet must have gone straight through him, so that saved her the trouble of removing it. Being in the river had cleaned the injury somewhat, but she knew there was still danger of infection. She tore off strips of her white nightgown and bandaged the wound as best she could. If only she could call a doctor…

Then she turned her attention to his mutilated face. Looking at it sent chills down her spine. She could tell that it had been naturally deformed, but the gypsy man had made it far, far worse with his knife cuts. A gash on the left side of Erik's face told her that the man had planned to carve up his entire face like that before she'd appeared at the scene, and she shuddered.

She tore off more pieces of her nightgown and pressed the pieces of fabric over the cuts on his face that were still bleeding a little. She wasn't exactly sure how she could bandage the right side only, and once again cursed the fact that she had no one to help her. If Erik died of his wounds now, it would be her fault.

Then she had a thought.

Maybe Cerise can help me.

Alana looked down at Erik. Cerise knew how much Alana cared about him, and Cerise cared about her. If she asked her cousin for help, Alana was certain she would help her.

She had to go back to the chateau and find Cerise.

But she couldn't just leave Erik here, out in the open and vulnerable. She would have to find a place to hide him in the woods. She hated to move from his side for even a moment, but Alana got to her feet and hurried into the forest, searching for the perfect place to leave him. A little ways off she spotted what appeared to be a small wooden shed. She couldn't believe her luck, and she headed towards it, still limping a little from the pain in her foot.

The door to the shed was unlocked, so she opened it and peered inside. It was dark, but the sun had risen at some point and lit the interior enough for Alana to see a few guns and some rusty-looking equipment lining the walls. It was a hunting shed, but it appeared to have been unused for some time. Perfect.

She sprinted back to the river and knelt down by Erik's unconscious form, removing the makeshift bandages from his face. "Wake up," she said, shaking him slightly. "Erik?" She persisted, and eventually he opened his bloodshot eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Erik, but I have to move you. I need to go find help, but I can't leave you here. I've found a place in the woods where you can hide…do you think you can walk?"

Erik closed his eyes again.

"I know. You're so hurt, and so tired, but if we don't move, someone is going to find us and separate us again. I'll help you as much as I can."

For a while Erik just lay there, unmoving, and Alana feared he had lost consciousness again. But then, she watched as he pushed himself slowly to his feet. His leg buckled, and she reached out to support him, but this time, he did not fall. He gazed down at her with red-rimmed, half-closed eyes that were full of weariness but also determination.

"You can lean on me," Alana told him. "We'll get there together."

And they set off, Erik staggering forward at an excruciatingly slow pace, while Alana stumbled under his weight. At times they nearly fell, but somehow they kept on walking through the woods until finally, they reached the shed.

Alana had left the door open, and as soon as they had walked inside they both collapsed to the floor. Erik gasped but did not cry out.

"I'm sorry!" Alana said, sitting up and putting a hand on his shoulder. "But you're safe now. You won't have to move again for a long time."

Erik nodded, closing his eyes again and wincing at the pain. He opened his mouth to speak, but at first no sound came out. Then Alana heard him whisper, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," she answered, rubbing his shoulder gently. "You saved me first. It was only fair for me to return the favor."

"No…you deserved…help. But not me…"

"Hush now. No more talking. You get some rest, and I'll be back as soon as I can…"

"Don't…leave…" he felt for her hand, and took hold of it.

"I have to go," Alana said sadly. "I need to find my cousin and some things to help you get better. We'll be back here before you know it." She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it. "I promise, I'll come back for you." Then she let go of him and walked out of the shed, closing the door behind her before she could hear him whisper three quiet words.

Her head was spinning as she raced back to the chateau, her thoughts all mixing up in wild confusion. The things Damien had said Erik had done, he had confessed! Maybe he only confessed those things so that the gypsy man would stop hurting him. Maybe he hadn't really killed people in cold blood.

But Damien saw Erik the night Avery died. Whether he meant to kill anyone or not, he's still responsible for at least one person's death.

Would he ever do anything to hurt me? He's done nothing but help me, but what if something changed one day?

Even with her doubts, she couldn't find a place in her mind to make any decisions, and despite her worries about Erik and his past, her feelings for him hadn't changed. Perhaps when the shock wore off, they would. But for now, there were words that repeated themselves over and over in her head. I love him, I love him, I love him.

Alana broke out of the woods and stood facing the chateau once again. She took a deep breath and reviewed her mission. She needed to find Cerise and things to help mend Erik's injuries, as well as some food and water for the both of them. And she needed to do this without anyone else knowing what she was doing. She hurried towards the back of this house, hoping and praying that no one would see her.

Erik needed her now.

She could not fail.