Wall must have heard the voice in my head because he screamed then and flew high in the air. He was trying, it seemed, to free his tentacles from the golden ball...
... and then they both exploded in the air like a thousand sticks of dynamite.
I was thrown to the ground, and for a long time there was nothing but darkness.
When I came to I was on my back, looking up at the sky. I got up on one shoulder to see if Mr. Stewart was still where he had fallen. He was gone but a little way beyond I saw the prone body of my brother in light Tall John from beyond Africa.
I tried to make it to my feet but I was too groggy from the explosion. After trying to get up and falling five or six times I settled on crawling to my friend's side.
He was in a bad way. Both his arms and both of his legs were broken. There were a dozen cuts on his face and one deep gash in his chest.
His glassy eyes stared up at nothing. I was sure that he was dead, but I couldn't believe it.
'Where's yo yellah bag, John?' were the first words I said.
Then I put my face on the ground, suddenly made even weaker at the loss of my friend.
'There's no healing this body again, Forty-seven,' he said.
I looked up to see him turn slightly in order that he might see me.
'John!' I shouted. 'You're alive!'
'Would you please hold up a hand to block the sun from my eyes,' he said weakly, and then added, 'my friend.'
I held my hand to shield his eyes and asked, 'What can I do, John?'
'Listen,' he said. 'I am going to the Upper Level now.'
'Where that?'
'It is the river of dreams where we all flow together.'
'Like heaven?'
John nodded and coughed and then he said, 'I will come to you many times over your life, Forty-seven. I'll come and help you when I can .. . with your fight against Wall.'
'Ain't he dead?' I asked, feeling a prickling along my spine as if the evil one-eyed monster were staring at me at that moment.
'No,' John said. 'He survived the explosion but he's very weak and will not appear to you again for seventeen years at least. But when you see his evil plans imprinted on the world you must stand against him, even though you will feel small and weak compared to his power.'
'How do you know what he'll do if you dyin'?' I asked, even though the question hurt my heart.
'I will come to you,' he whispered. 'You will be a great hero and I will be the hero's friend.'
'You gonna be a ghost?' I asked, fearful of being haunted but even sadder over the loss of my friend.
'No,' he hissed. 'Do you remember the crystal machine that I told you about?'
'Queziastril,' I said, remembering the word through the light in my mind.
'Through her I have spoken to you many times.'
'I don't remember those talks, John.'
'That's because you haven't had them yet...,' he said, and then he took a deep and painful breath. He coughed and moved his head and neck like he was going to get up but instead he fell back, and I knew that Tall John was dead.
When I could stand I dragged John's body down to the pit where Wall and his ghoul had dug up the Sun Ship. I lowered my friend into the grave and used the spade Stewart had used to cover him.
My right foot hurt me some. I guess I must have sprained it running away from Stewart's blasts. So I used the green stem as a walking stick and made my way back toward my friends.
Near the ledge, where we first spied Stewart and Pike, I found John's yellow sack.
Because of my limp the trek took me many hours.
That was the saddest journey of my young life. I was free but my friend was dead. And his passing left a void in my heart where I never knew I had something to lose. At times along the way I'd fall down on my knees and yowl some incomprehensible words to try and express the loss of my pal Tall John from beyond Africa.
I reached the flat rock at just about sunset.
I was sad about the death of John and Mud Albert, about the slaves running in the wilderness and being hunted down by dogs. I even felt sorry for poor Eloise and the death of her father, my one-time master. But the hardest thing would be to tell Eighty-four, Tweenie, that the man she loved was dead.
She cried and caterwauled like a deep forest creature, and her grief called mine forward and I fell to the ground and wept bitterly with her. My friend was dead. He died, I knew, saving all the peoples of Earth.
When night came we moved north into a wood that I knew was uninhabited.
I could tell that the wood was safe because when I gazed hard at the valley of pines a soft gray light washed the images in my mind. I knew somehow that the gift of light that John had given me was telling me that no one
