Zoe Thanatos Read online

  ZOE THANATOS

  By Crystal Cierlak

  Text copyright © 2012 Crystal Cierlak

  All Rights Reserved

  For Jeffrey P.

  ZOE THANATOS

  Text copyright © 2012 Crystal Cierlak

  Part One

  Chapter 1: Strangers on a Boat

  Chapter 2: An Observer

  Chapter 3: The Impossibility of the Life of Anne

  Chapter 4: Honest Conversations

  Chapter 5: Before Sunrise

  Chapter 6: A Foreign Visitor

  Chapter 7: The New Day

  Chapter 8: A Missed Opportunity

  Part Two

  Chapter 9: Terra

  Chapter 10: The Queen

  Chapter 11: The Elder

  Chapter 12: A Revelation

  Chapter 13: Two Sets of Gates

  Chapter 14: The Two Nero’s

  Chapter 15: A Secret Meeting

  Chapter 16: A Brief Reunion

  Part Three

  Chapter 17: A Forgotten Place

  Chapter 18: The Escape

  Chapter 19: Two Stratons

  Chapter 20: Prisoners and Soldiers

  Chapter 21: The Crown and the Laurel

  Chapter 22: The Standoff

  Chapter 23: The Shape of Things to Come

  Chapter 24: The Family Reunion

  Part One

  Chapter 1: Strangers on a Boat

  The morning air was chilly for early June. The fog may have come in overnight and stayed into the morning, but the promise of sunshine was not lost on Zoe Thanatos as she closed the car door behind her, remnants of the sun peeking out from behind light grey clouds. From her place in the parking lot she could see small boats and ships floating in the water parked in their assigned spots, waiting for their owners to take them out for a day on the Pacific.

  After purchasing a ticket for the hour and half trip to Santa Cruise Island she noticed a smattering of people milling about the harbor; a scouting troop of girls yawning as their leader made an inventory of their belongings, all manner of sleeping bags, fishing and camping gear. Smaller groupings of tourists were standing around talking amongst themselves, ready for the adventure that awaited them. She looked around at all the faces, most of them smiling or otherwise happy, and wondered what made her so different from them.

  It wasn’t her history to be unhappy. She could recall with ease several instances throughout her life where she was unequivocally happy and at peace. However, those moments occurred less often the older she got and by the time she reached her twenty-fourth birthday one year ago, all happiness had escaped her life completely. She couldn’t stand the thought of waking up to another day of emptiness.

  She made no hurry to board as the attendants announced the imminent departure of the boat. She held her ticket and watched as the group of young girls formed a line to board the ship their excitement growing with each passing minute. She joined at the back of the line and recalled her first trip to the island just off the coast of Ventura. For hours she hiked in the hot sun until reaching the top of a cliff with a singularly stunning view of the Pacific Ocean as it stretched out for miles. It was the tallest she’d ever stood, and one of the last times she ever smiled so wide it hurt her face. She hoped for just an ounce of that feeling.

  She gave her ticket to the attendant and boarded, making her way to the top deck where she could watch the journey with an uninterrupted view. Twenty minutes later they were off, making their way through the harbor with ease, out towards the open water of the Pacific. A quiet stream of chatter flowed around her, but Zoe’s attention remained on the horizon. The boat gained speed and rode over crests of deep blue waves. The minutes passed in silence as she stared out towards the unseen chain of Channel Islands.

  “I heard it’s possible we’ll see dolphins on our way to the island.” Zoe frowned and looked quizzically at the stranger who interrupted her thoughts. He was a young man and smiled revealing perfectly straight white teeth. He was tan with a square jaw, eyes bright and green beneath a thick blanket of lashes, and a crop of chestnut hair. He was the kind of handsome that was impossibly charming, with a penetrative stare that must have made many women swoon. She would disappoint him. “It’s true,” she replied. “And seals. They like to lie out on the buoys.”

  “Have you been before?” he asked. To her surprise he seemed genuinely interested in her, though she suspected it was nothing more than an attempt to pass the time.

  “Once a few years ago. Your first time?”

  “It is. A buddy of mine mentioned the trails are awesome for hiking and that the views are great. He claimed it was like being in another world,” he laughed and shook his head in a way that made her wonder why he even mentioned it to begin with. Zoe searched her memory, recalling images of the island.

  “I can see why your friend would say that. Though, I don’t have much to compare it to.” Her eyes drifted down to her clasped hands in her lap. She never travelled too far from home and always regretted it when the thought came to mind. She had the financial means to go wherever she pleased but could never commit to traveling. An island thirty miles off the coast of her hometown was the furthest she had ever gone.

  “I’m Evan,” he introduced as his hand extended toward her. When her eyes met his again she noticed they conveyed a sense of warmth, a geniality that seemed almost unnatural for a virtual stranger. Her instinct told her she could trust him; she didn’t listen.

  “Anne,” she lied as she shook his hand. It was a soft hand, she thought, and gentle. The corners of her mouth picked up. It was the best smile she could manage.

  “Very nice to meet you, Anne.” His eyes took a quick appraisal of her as she had of him, though his examination felt more personal, as if he could tell more about her from her face than from her words. “So seals and dolphins? Any chance of seeing a whale?”

  She feigned nonchalance. “I imagine it’s possible.”

  “I’m heading up to Santa Barbara to go whale watching tomorrow. I’m sort of creating my own road trip, going up the coast beach by beach.” There was an inherent excitement in everything he talked about, his whole face moving as he spoke. His eyes widened and eyebrows arched as he talked about the boardwalk in Santa Monica, his mouth curling into a smile as he recalled driving up Pacific Coast Highway. His recollections were so clear it was as though he was reliving each experience. Zoe listened with interest as he laid out his plan to go up the coast from Santa Barbara to San Luis Obispo. By the time he reached San Francisco, Zoe realized it was not her interest that kept her listening, but her envy. Having lived her entire life at or around the beach made her familiar and jaded with its inherent charms. He had something to look forward to and she couldn’t recall the last time she felt the same way.

  “At some point I’d love to go all the way up to Oregon and Washington and take in the entire coast.” It wasn’t until he finished speaking that she realized she had been staring at him, her thoughts eclipsed by his enthusiasm and warmth, her eyes unable to look away from the dimples that puckered his cheeks when he smiled. For a fraction of a moment she was unburdened by her own life and caught up in his, imagining tents perched on the beach at Refugio, the great monolith embedded in the shore off Morro Bay, and the salt water taffy she’d risk a cavity for from a small shop along the boardwalk.

  The moment passed and she was transported back to her own reality, the confining plastic chair beneath her a fitting allegory for her own discontent. She tried to think of something to say to excuse her staring, but found she had nothing to say.

  “All right folks! If you want to take a look out to the left you’ll see a pod of dolphins out in the distance,” the captain announced over the loudspeaker. Zoe blinked and took a
deep breath, her thoughts detaching from the handsome stranger and his plans. She followed the group of heads turning out to the open sea where a school of dolphins, fifteen to twenty in total, were taking turns leaping out of the water. In two enthusiastic steps Evan was standing with his hands on the railing leaning over it boat to get better view. He was as excited as any kid. Around her other boat patrons watched gleefully, expressions of awe in their faces. She was the only one seated . Maybe to someone who had never been to the beach a dolphin was somewhat of a novelty, but for her they were just another bit of charm she failed to be dazzled by.

  “Come on, Anne! You’ve got to see this!” Evan exclaimed, looking at her as though something truly wonderful were happening. As Zoe approached the railing Evan stepped aside to make room for her; it was a sight to see. Even the dolphins looked happy and carefree, which only served to pointedly drive home the fact that she was anything but. Not for lack of trying.

  The truth of the matter was that the trip wasn’t Zoe’s first attempt to rectify her problem with happiness. She’d tried cute animals at the Santa Barbara Zoo, roller coasters at Six Flags, wine tasting in Solvang, traveling up and down the same one hundred miles of California to find something that would bring her even a modicum of happiness. Nothing ever did.

  “We don’t have anything like this back home,” Evan mused to himself. He turned to face Zoe and the dimples deepened as his cheeks filled with delight.

  “It’s great,” she tried. When he turned his face away to look again at the dolphin spectacle she thought she’d managed to convince him.

  Minutes later the captain pointed to the dozens of seals lying like fat babies on red buoys, others just floating around in the water without a care in the world. Zoe took the few steps back to her seat, clasped her hands together in her lap, and watched her boat companions as they laughed and talked. She spotted Evan conversing with other boat riders and decided that was the end of that.

  The boat docked at the port and Zoe casually looked around for Evan, but he was nowhere to be seen. Just as well, she thought. After climbing from the boat to the dock and a brief orientation from the guide, Zoe set up to make the trek up to Potato Harbor.

  People broke off into groups and went their separate ways, some staying on the beach for kayaking, others heading for various hiking trails. The morning fog had burned off and the sky started to warm. She applied sun block and took a quick sip from a water bottle before, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder and heading towards the trail.

  Alone with her thoughts she made her way along the path in no particular rush. The path was covered in brown grass and green trees, and set against an unimpeded crystal blue sky. She couldn’t imagine a more beautiful place in the world. Having grown up the coast in Santa Barbara, Zoe was used to the particular colors of the sky in all various stages of transition. She would often find herself, stuck somewhere along Highway 101 and notice the sky take on a bewildering shade of golden violet. The sky would glow with the last remnants of sunlight, twilight permeating through the last remaining strands of gold. When it rained the sky was slate with green trees and grass breaking up the monochrome. She didn’t need to travel anywhere else to know she already lived in the most beautiful place on Earth.

  She knew there were places in the world where the sky was painted with more than one shade of blue, where sunsets created rainbows, and the dusk looked magical. Far off places that carried stories and mythologies dating back thousands of years, with monuments erected in their honor, some crumbling under the weight of time. She’d never even seen snow. A year ago she would have planned to go somewhere. Santa Cruz Island was the only plan she’d made.

  Not much planning had been required. There were no living relatives, no friends or pets, only acquaintances and neighbors. She wouldn’t leave anyone behind. Before leaving for the harbor that morning she’d remembered to turn off the circuit box and leave a simple note, a quick goodbye to whomever found what was left of her belongings. The note was an afterthought, a courtesy so that the authorities would not suspect foul play. No, it would be a simple open-and-shut case with a clear message left behind: ‘I’m gone, and I’m not coming back.’

  The trail leveled and stretched out before her to the view she so vividly remembered. Hikers she hadn’t noticed were spread out far away from her, taking pictures or stopping for lunch. A few steps forward and she was at edge of the cliff some few hundred feet above the blue-green water. Down below a few orange kayaks the size of dots circled around a water-lodged monolith. Straight out ahead an ocean liner was the only blemish on an otherwise pristine horizon. She could picture her home on the other side where millions of people were going about their lives, unaware that she watched from a great distance.

  She pulled hair from the binding of her ponytail and set the backpack on the ground at her feet. Unencumbered, she stood at the edge of her world and closed her eyes. She breathed in the scent of salt water, a breeze flowing through the goose bumps on her skin and around tendrils of hair at her neck. The sun warmed the crown of her head, her neck, and the tops of her shoulders.

  One foot at a time she inched backwards from the cliff, opening her eyes for one final look as determination set. Her final plan had come to fruition. She told herself that someone new would come along to occupy her place in the world. It was a thought that tempered her calm, her resolve as still as the endless horizon itself. With a ready strength, her right foot planted into the dirt trail, muscle and tendon stretching as she launched from the stillness. The ground a makeshift runway, she gained speed, one leg after the next, until she reached the end and her legs propelled her chest first over the edge. Arms stretched out behind, her back arched, and she was catapulted into the sky, flying free of all restraint. In a moment everything was still, weightless with the sky around her, and to her delighted surprise it was the best she ever felt. She was resigned to her fate and for the first time in a long time she smiled, the motion reaching up through her cheeks and to the corners of her eyes. It was the feeling she had been searching for.

  Chapter 2: An Observer

  She moved with the graceful precision of an athlete, determination in every step she took towards the edge. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that her resolve had more to do with finality than with sight-seeing. There was a melancholy to her cadence, as though she knew the fate before her and with each step she came to accept it. It was not in his nature to understand why someone would have any reason to die.

  She first caught his eye at the harbor, the way she watched people with a curiosity similar to his own. He observed. She studied. What was she looking for? He spent a great deal of time observing people, a practice he became quite skilled at, and found that for the most part people were easy to read. Many of those he observed over time kept their insecurities plainly visible, their faces and body language betraying their innermost thoughts. Perhaps that was why he noticed her more than anyone else.

  She carried herself with self-possession unlike anyone he’d ever observed. She gave little away. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes seemed almost too big for her face while her mouth, pink with sharp lines, puckered imperceptibly as she observed those around her. It hadn’t been until he sat unnoticed next to her on the boat that he realized she looked like she didn’t belong. Her face had the seemingly rare quality of being both stunning and unassuming, and he figured she was unaware of the effect it had on others. He often observed how men were affected by beautiful women. Many were intimidated and merely watched from afar while few others had the nerve to approach the object of their desire. Not him. He had sat next to her easily, wanting to do nothing more than be a part of her existence.

  It was the way she sat, with her hands clasped peacefully in her lap, perfectly still with her too-big brown eyes burning into the horizon of the Pacific, that prompted him to speak to her. Her initial irritation surprised him, and though she quickly recovered and was as polite as any stranger could be, it was that first response that
intrigued him the most. She was in her own world and he had interrupted, brought her out of her thoughts and placing himself into a small pocket of her existence. When she touched him it was firm and resolute without being tough. Everything about her, from the way she spoke to the strained smiles she pushed into her cheeks, intrigued him. Everyone else was so plain and regular it was no wonder they couldn’t see her; he could see what the others clearly could not.

  He followed her, unseen. She climbed the trail slowly, expertly finding her footing along the incline of the dirt trail, shifting the weight of her backpack every so often. Gone was the melancholy, replaced with resolved determination as she climbed towards Potato Harbor. He arrived at the top shortly after she had and for the first time his attention diverted, stolen by the panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. He’d been to and seen many places, all manner of grandness and beauty, but it was that spot, tempered with Anne’s graceful stance, that he deemed to be the most beautiful.

  He watched curiously for what seemed like hours as she stood still, ensconced at the edge of the cliff like a statue untouched by time. He thought back to where he came from, his own home tethered to this life. He thought of the people who lived around him, those he engaged in conversation with, those he smiled and laughed with, and he could not recall one that compared to his brief exchange with Anne. The idea that her beautiful face and keen attention was concentrated only on him was exciting. She couldn’t possibly tell the difference between the truth and fiction in his plans, or have known that he was there on that boat for a decidedly different purpose. And yet, much to his surprise, she had changed the course of his day.

  His mood descended from the light as he watched her take that first step backwards, followed by second and a third. For a moment he stood dumbstruck, waiting and hoping the conclusion he’d immediately jumped to was false. He had seen in her an unspoken desire to irrevocably change her life, but in the moments of watching her in secret at the foot of the cliff he had forgotten them. It became blindingly obvious that she was having her final moments, her last steps, and he knew that she could not end that way.