Earth Sentinels Collection

by Elizabeth M Herrera

  In an attempt to calm the general public’s fears, a UN representative walked into a room filled with members of the media, ready to deliver the official response.

  Cameras flashed as the man stepped up to the podium. He slipped on his glasses, reading the prepared statement, “It has been determined by leading scientists that the unnatural thunder storms occurring around the world have been deliberately caused by cloud seeding. For those of you unfamiliar with the term ‘cloud seeding’, it is when airplanes disperse substances, such as silver iodide, dry ice or salt over clouds with the intention of producing rain.

  “This unauthorized manipulation of nature is unacceptable. When the people responsible for these actions are uncovered, they will be severely punished. Thank you.” The official pocketed his glasses, then left the room ignoring the reporters’ demands for more information.

  The President of the United States watched the televised UN press conference from the privacy of his office with two of his most-trusted advisors. When the coverage was over, he shut off the TV.

  “Well, sir, that seemed believable,” said the first advisor.

  “Yes, it did,” the other advisor agreed.

  The president sat pensively, not saying anything.

  “Something wrong, sir?”

  “I need to tell you something in the strictest of confidence. Do I have your word you’ll tell no one?”

  “You have my word, sir.” The other advisor agreed as well.

  “Two days ago, I received a visit from the Earth Sentinels’ leader, the fallen angel Bechard.” The president saw the look of disbelief on their faces. “I know it sounds crazy, which is why it needs to remain a secret. But I did see him. You remember the snowstorm in New York?”

  “Yes! God, what a mess!”

  “That was the angel’s doing, proof of their power. The only reason I bring it up is…I’m concerned about the Earth Sentinels’ reaction to this announcement. I’d hoped to offer a few concessions, but now, the world would think I’m nuts blaming the thunderstorms on a fallen angel and spirits. What do you suggest?”

  “Well, you could buck the UN and tell Congress, along with the rest of the country, what you just told us. If they believe you and the people don’t go hysterical, maybe the lawmakers will put aside their differences and self interests, and work together to implement alternative energy solutions. We could use some of the defense budget to install changes, or restrict people’s use of energy—”

  The president interrupted, “Okay, okay. I see your point. We’ll just wait and see,” but privately he thought, It’s gonna have to get worse before it gets better.

  The Prime Minister of the Democratic Republic of the Congo was meeting with the shaman. “Tell me what to do. The UN announced the thunderstorms were an act of cloud seeding, but my people won’t believe it. They know witchcraft when they see it.”

  “Maybe if you switched to earth-friendly methods, our country might be spared,” the shaman suggested. “Would the senate and assembly agree to the changes?”

  The prime minister contemplated the question, then sighed. “I can’t guarantee they’ll agree.”

  “And I can’t guarantee the Earth Sentinels will spare our country, but I will ask.” The shaman stood up.

  The prime minister rose as well. “Let me escort you to the door.” He walked with the shaman over the polished mahogany floors. “Please let me know their answer as soon as possible.” He opened the front door, noticing his driver outside buffing a black sedan. “I’ll have my driver escort you home. It will speed things up.” He shouted out the front door, “Manyara! Take this honored guest wherever he needs to go!”

  Manyara opened the rear passenger door for the shaman, who got inside the luxurious car, sitting stiffly on the broad leather seat, resting his staff across his lap. He had only ridden in a vehicle a few times in his life, preferring instead to trek across the countryside, letting the dust gather on his feet.

  The black sedan left the compound and pulled onto a dirt road. In a few miles, the car was speeding past the grasslands teaming with wildlife.

  Suddenly, the situation didn’t feel right for the shaman. What’s my hurry? he thought. We all reach the same destination in the end. Foolish man, how did you get caught in this web? “Stop!” he shouted. The driver hit the brakes. “I want out here.”

  The shaman opened the car door, stepping into the sunlight. He began the long walk toward home, his cane hitting the ground with each stride, humming as the black sedan drove out of sight. A warm breeze caressed his face, causing him to smile. This felt right.

  The Second Plan

  THOUSANDS OF SHAMANS, totem animals and spirits entered the spirit realm, mingling on the courtyard and spilling over the grassy knoll and valley.

  Billy moved through the crowd toward Haruto. She was talking with a Tibetan shaman, who was inquiring about the nuclear meltdown in her beloved Japan. Billy tapped her shoulder.

  She gracefully spun around. “Why, Mr. White Smoke, how good to see you!” The dragon dutifully positioned next to her scowled at him.

  Billy ignored the reptilian sentinel, instead focusing on Haruto’s dark-brown eyes. “It’s good to see you!” His voice was a tad too high. He cleared his throat, finding his usual deep tone to compliment her, “You look beautiful as always.” Did I just say that? he agonized internally, embarrassed.

  The dragon snorted patronizingly, billowing smoke out of his snout. Haruto and Billy coughed, waving their hands to clear the air.

  Cheva followed Zachary as he searched for Conchita. The massive horse moved like a bull in a china shop, knocking and bumping into people as he made his way through the tightly knit group, continually apologizing, “So sorry. Excuse me. Sorry…”

  The fallen angel soared across the sky, capturing the attention of the members who hushed. His impressive wings flapped as he descended, casting a breeze over the crowd. He gently landed, tucking his wings and raising his arms. Bechard thundered, “Welcome, Earth Sentinels!” The ocean floated in his blue eyes and the universe danced in his raven black hair. He lowered his arms, examining those standing before him. “It appears we have work to do. The world has refused our demands, forcing us to increase our display of power. An unfortunate necessity, I’m afraid.” He let his words sink in. “There are many injustices on Earth. That’s why you’re here. So now, we must decide how to proceed. Ideas anyone?”

  Nobody spoke up.

  Bechard said, “I realize coming up with a solution is difficult. Why don’t we remind ourselves what we are fighting against?” He swept his hand over the crystal ball. The blue mist dissolved, displaying the nuclear meltdown in Fukushima, Japan, for a moment, then the earth spun again. When it stopped, it showed the abandoned cities surrounding Chernobyl—ghostly reminders of a radioactive disaster decades earlier. Spinning again, the earth unveiled current oil spills, one after another. Then images of barren land appeared where rainforests used to stand. Rows of windowless barns came into view. Inside each building were stacks of small cages, row upon row, containing sickly chickens with missing feathers, unable to stand or turn around. Deserted communities were shown where the fracking process had ruined the water supply and dispersed toxic chemicals into the air.

  Sensing the Earth Sentinels had seen enough, Bechard waved his hand over the crystal ball. The images ceased. He waited until everyone settled down, then said, “Would the totem animals come forward, please?”

  Cheva, Kane, Taslia, the dragon and hundreds of other totem animals slithered, swam, flew and stepped forward. Bechard said to them, “I have an idea, but need your help.” The totem animals were curious. “I am recommending that, for one day only, the creatures of Earth attack mankind. Excluding the children, of course.”

  The totem animals were speechless.

  Haruto gave her opinion first, “I don’t think we want to become cold-hearted killers. You say spare the children, but who will take care of the children if their parents are dead?”


  “What if the world retaliates and starts killing the animals? It will be a blood bath. No one would win,” stated Billy.

  “How about a ‘natural’ disaster instead? Giant earthquakes and tsunamis,” suggested a shaman.

  Someone shouted, “That would also kill the animals!”

  Pahtia asked, “What is a tsunami?”

  “Let me show you,” Bechard offered. A holographic projection appeared over the glass ball, showing a thousand-foot wave swelling over a city. Haruto looked away, reminded of the disaster her city had recently endured. The image abruptly vanished, but the devastation potential was clearly understood.

  A shaman from India asked, “What if we live near the coast? I don’t want to plan the death of my own people.”

  Zachary lamented, “I can’t do this! I can’t kill people!” He still felt immense guilt about the oil rigger who had died and couldn’t imagine how he would feel killing thousands, or even millions, of people.

  Bechard motioned for everyone to calm down. “If we don’t intercede, mankind will self destruct. All of it…including you and your family. I know this seems severe, but humanity is oblivious to subtle messages.”

  “What if we give them a blueprint to follow? Show them how to create alternative energy solutions?” suggested a shaman from China.

  Bechard answered, “We have repeatedly inspired your best scientists, engineers and even lay people, who developed renewable fuel options. However, time after time, their patents were bought under false pretenses and shelved by fossil fuel companies wanting to squash the competition, and when the inventors refused to sell, they were often killed. Until the resistance is eliminated, it’s an endless battle. By the time the world is willing to use alternative energy, it will be too late.”

  The shaman from the Congo Republic asked, “If my country cooperates, can we be spared?”

  A German shaman spoke up, “Germany is already fast tracking alternative energy and will eliminate all nuclear plants within ten years! We want protection from the attacks!”

  Looking around the crowd, Bechard inquired, “Should countries implementing alternative energy methods be spared? Or will our message become diluted if it is not applied worldwide? For instance, the supernatural storms over the capitols of the world would have been ignored if they had appeared random. And although the world resisted our demands, we did instigate an emergency UN meeting. The greatest powers on Earth were afraid!”

  Billy asked, “If we ask the animals to kill people, what kind of message will that send?”

  “Excellent question,” Bechard said. “Why don’t we address the pros and cons...”

  A shaman shouted, “It’ll remind people they’re not in control!”

  Bechard flicked his hand. The words “Not in control” materialized out of thin air. The blue misty letters floated over the crowd.

  Another shaman yelled, “It’ll show we’re fighting back! Enough is enough!”

  The words “Enough is enough” hovered near the previous words.

  A Greenland shaman called out, “People might become afraid and retaliate.”

  The word “Retaliation” appeared.

  “Will it make us cold-hearted killers?” a Brazilian shaman wondered out loud.

  The words “Cold-hearted killers” became visible.

  Zachary asked, “What about the animals? After they’ve attacked, how will it affect them? Will they feel ashamed? Will they continue to kill?”

  The words “After effects” arose, then all of the words spun, intermingling before disappearing in a puff of smoke.

  “Why don’t we ask the totem animals for their perspectives?” Bechard suggested.

  Cheva spoke first, “I understand the cycle of life on Earth, but animals do not kill out of hatred or maliciousness, unless they are sick. We would be asking creatures to go against their—”

  Billy interrupted, directing his question to Bechard, “Who would you attack? What justifies one person becoming a victim while another lives? Who’s to say it wouldn’t be you or me? Why don’t we stick with isolated storms that disrupt governments and business? We can close down highways, airports, businesses. If they can’t make money, they’ll listen.”

  “Do you really think so?” Chief Keme asked. “We’ve been negotiating for centuries. The government doesn’t keep its word. They steal our land and children, kill us…” He unconsciously placed his hand on his heart.

  “If we attack, the world will hate us and go to the ends of the earth to find us,” warned the old Siberian shamaness. “Why do you think I live in the wilderness where no one wants to go? People are afraid of my power.” The owl on her shoulder hooted softly. She absentmindedly stroked his chest with her calloused hand. “I have never purposely hurt anyone, but then who knows what is right or wrong? I have to trust the spirits’ guidance for that, and I don’t see any divine beings in our group. Perhaps that should tell us something.” She stared at Bechard, thinking it had been a mistake dealing with the fallen angel.

  “All of us are imperfect or we wouldn’t be here,” Bechard replied. “Each of you received guidance from your spirit guides and weren’t happy with it, which is why you joined the Earth Sentinels. However, you are free to leave at anytime. But if you do, remember it is extremely important to keep your identities secret, otherwise, the governments will use you to get at the others.”

  Billy suggested, “We should give this more thought. It’s too important to rush in to.”

  “Yes, it is important,” Bechard acknowledged. “How about we reconvene in three days’ time? Give everyone a chance to think it over. Sound good?”

  Everyone agreed, solemnly dispersing through the invisible doorways between the spirit realm and Earth. Chief Keme waved goodbye to his tribe members.

  Zachary struggled through the crowd trying to get to Conchita, who was being led away by Pahtia. “Wait!” he shouted, but it was too late.

  She and her father stepped through the doorway.

  Second Guessing

  ON A DREARY morning, Billy pulled his old truck into the driveway at Zachary’s house. The tires crunched over the limestone. He shut off the ignition, but the engine continued to sputter and cough before finally shuddering to a standstill. He opened the creaky door and got out, patting the hood as he walked by. You’re an embarrassment, old girl.

  Billy stepped onto the porch, knocking on the front door. The dogs ran over to greet him.

  Larry answered, “Hello? Ah, it’s you again. Come on in.” He shooed the dogs away. “I’ll let Zachary know you’re here.” Billy stood in the entryway while Larry called up the stairs, “Zach! Your friend’s here!”

  “Be right down!”

  Larry and Billy awkwardly waited. To pass the time, Larry asked, “So, what do you two have planned?”

  “Walk in the woods. Connect with nature.”

  Larry nodded, unsure if he believed the man.

  Zachary ambled down the stairs. “Hello, Billy! Want something to drink? We got bottled water, juice.”

  “No thanks. Had coffee on the way over.”

  Larry interjected, “I want to show you two something,” surprising both Billy and Zachary who followed him into the garage where he flipped on a fluorescent light. Inside was a giant, plastic container full of water. “Just delivered today. They call it a water buffalo.” Larry laughed bitterly. “Now we can take showers! One of life’s little perks.” Larry paused. His face grew glum. “Look, I’d love to blow those companies off the face of the earth, literally,” he growled. “The laws protect them, but nobody’s protecting us.” He looked at his son, “But be careful. I don’t want to lose you over this.”

  Larry fed the dogs behind the house while Zachary and Billy walked across the backyard, heading toward the woods. The milk cow mooed as they passed the barn.

  The men trudged along the tractor path next to the field littered with withered crop stalks. The harvest was over and no one knew if there would be anothe
r one.

  “They’ve started rebuilding the fracking rigs,” Zachary bitterly complained. “Putting bigger lightning rods at the top, like that’s going to help.” Billy remained silent, letting him vent. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but when I see all the devastation, it makes me so mad and depressed, I can barely get out of bed. Nobody seems to care!”

  They found the deer path that led into the woods and followed it. Fallen leaves crunched beneath their feet. A squirrel scampered up a tree. A family of crows cawed in the branches of an old oak tree before taking to flight, turning into silhouettes against the gray sky.

  When the men came to the tree that had cried for help, Billy reached in his back pocket, taking out a pouch of tobacco. He offered it to Zachary, who took a pinch, sprinkling it at the base of the tree, saying, “We honor you. May we sit in your branches?”

  The wind picked up. Leaves tumbled across the forest floor and over his shoes. The tree swayed, dancing in the wind. A woodsy breath whirled around the young man’s face, weakly whispering, “Sit with me.”

  Zachary climbed into her branches.

  Billy followed him.

  After they were settled, Zachary mentioned, “It feels right defending the earth, at least in principle, but I’m afraid if we start killing, it won’t feel right. You know?”

  “I know.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “Don’t let me influence you. I know it’s scary making your own decisions, but I wouldn’t be doing you any favors making it for you. Best I can say is, ‘Follow your heart.’” Then without saying another word, Billy climbed down and walked away.

  Zachary was left alone to make the most important decision of his young life.

  Spying on the Bear Claw Tribe