“Etorri!” yelled Kepa. “Come!”
Maite grabbed Blas’s hand and pulled him out the door, Kepa holding it open as they rushed by. He followed them as they ran down the hall.
“What do we do?” yelled Kepa. “We can’t just keep running and hiding forever. And I don’t think de Lancre is going to stay down for long.”
Buber’s Basque Story is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!
“Ez,” replied Maite. “We just need a little time to think.”
“We can run back into the main hall. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything with all of those people.”
Maite shook her head. “I wouldn’t count on it. He’s hellbent on getting that zatia. I don’t think he would hesitate for an instant to kill every person up there to get it. And, besides, if what Marina said about the time bubbles is true, it wouldn’t matter who he killed. Once the zatia is recovered, it would pop as if it never happened.”
“Hori da! That’s it!” exclaimed Kepa. “We just need to take the zatia ourselves.”
“Noski!” echoed Maite. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
They felt more than saw the air around them crackle. Electrical sparks ran down the walls past them, suddenly coming together in front of them, forming a wall of electricity. The three of them stopped running and turned. de Lancre, his body crackling with electricity, was floating down the hallway toward them.
A deep growl shook their bones. “Give me that suitcase.”
“Inoiz ez!” yelled Blas, clutching the suitcase defiantly against his chest. “Never!”
“Then I will take it from your cold dead fingers!” bellowed de Lancre as his body flew down the hallway, charging at them.
Blas turned and thrust the suitcase into Maite’s hands. “I don’t know what is going on, but if you can stop him, do it.” He then turned back to face de Lancre and, with a roar, rushed at the oncoming form of de Lancre.
“Ez! No!” yelled Kepa as Blas launched himself at de Lancre, planting his shoulder into de Lancre’s sternum as he tackled his foe. Blas screamed as the electricity coursed through his body, as de Lancre scraped his back with his talon-like fingernails, but he held fast.
“Bizkortu! Hurry!” yelled Maite as she dropped to the ground, ripping open Blas’s suitcase. Together, Maite and Kepa threw aside the few possessions Blas had brought from the old country – a few changes of clothing, his Bible, a few pieces of dried meat, and a small knife.
“Begira! Look!” said Kepa. Underneath it all, they found a small locket that glowed brightly. Maite picked it up and opened it. Inside was a picture of Blas on one side and, on the other, a young woman, her beautiful face smiling back at them. A small glowing sphere of light rose out of the opened locket and floated in front of Maite and Kepa. They looked at one another and reached for it.
“No!” screamed de Lancre as he threw Blas’s burnt and lifeless body aside. He raised his hand, electricity coursing through his fingers. A bolt of lightning erupted from his palm just as Kepa and Maite touched the zatia floating in front of them. The room erupted in a blinding white light, followed by an almost deafening pop
