by Platt, Sean
“We? How?”
“We, those who vanished on October 15, all have a bit of The Light inside us. When Luca brought us back over, some of him came, and stayed, with us. We can use it to find the vials. We can find the people who have the last vials and convince them to hand them over.”
“And what then? What are we going to do with the vials?”
“I don’t entirely know. But I’m confident that The Light will show us the way.”
“Sorry, pal, but I’m not buying the mumbo jumbo and pseudo-religious dark and light shit.” Ed meant to rattle the man for a response.
Surprisingly, Desmond held his calm.
He kneeled to Ed’s level.
“I’m not going to bullshit you, Mr. Keenan. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know one thing. If we don’t get those vials, then you, me, and everyone we love will die at the hands of The Darkness. You and I have both seen what it did to the other Earth. You can be the grizzled cynical bastard that Bolton said you are, or you can do something to save your family.”
Ed chewed on the message, then said, “How do I know that The Darkness hasn’t already infiltrated Black Island? It got to Sullivan. Hell, how do I know you’re not infected?”
“Because we’ve got our very own sniffer, someone who can see The Light and The Darkness.”
“Who?”
“Well, I can, for one. But there’s also Paola.”
“Mary’s girl?”
“Yes, she is now The Light.”
“What do you mean is The Light?”
Desmond explained that Luca had been The Light, but was growing weaker after fighting off The Darkness and sending the other Luca to take his place on this world. He then found Paola in the hospital, in a coma. She needed saving; he needed a home.
“Now she’s helping us find the other vials. But she’s a kid and helping from here. I need someone I can trust out there, boots on the ground following up on the leads Paola’s getting from her visions.”
Ed shook his head, trying to stop his world from sounding like bad sci-fi. He wanted to call it crazy, but couldn’t dismiss a syllable. He’d seen destruction caused by The Darkness, and how it had murdered a planet.
He didn’t trust Black Island to save the world, especially when they couldn’t see an enemy in their own damned camp, but Ed felt like Desmond could be trusted. Especially if he’d managed to convince Bolton to let him head this operation.
“So, what do you need me to do?”
“What you do best,” Desmond said. “Find people and convince them to do something they might not want to do.”
“And my family, friends?”
“They can all stay here on Black Island. They’ll be safe.”
“OK,” Ed said. “I’m in.”
* * * *
CHAPTER 5 — MARY OLSON
Black Island
Mary sat on the couch, watching as Paola played with Teagan’s girl, Becca. Jade sat beside the young mother, looking guarded, and not unlike a gloomy college kid with her bright-blue hair.
Mary couldn’t blame her for looking miserable. They’d been dragged here against their will, and she’d yet to see her father, Ed.
Mary wanted to say something to let Jade know things would be OK, that Desmond was there and wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her father.
Becca giggled, a deep and almost-hoarse guffaw when Paola tickled her.
Mary watched, feeling a sense of joy swell inside her. It was the most lively she’d seen Paola since she emerged from the coma after Desmond saved them and brought them to the other world before coming to Black Island. According to Desmond, Luca had created the portal to save them, not him. After Paola had woken from her coma, they headed immediately to the island.
Mary continued to watch Paola as the girl smiled at Becca. She even played peek-a-boo with the girl, which might be the most Paola had said since the coma. It seemed like having a younger child around drew Paola out from whatever shell she’d been in.
Dr. Morgan said these things take time.
As if the Black Island doctor could possibly have a clue. They didn’t know what had happened to Paola in the chamber or how Luca had come to bring The Light inside her. The Black Island medical staff was as much in the dark as any of them.
Desmond, however, had his theories, and seemed to believe that Paola’s recovery and her recent waking visions were all good signs.
Easy for him to say: she’s not his daughter.
But if anyone could understand what Paola was going through, it had to be Desmond. He had a bit of The Light inside him, too. He said everyone that Luca saved had The Light inside them, but he seemed more connected than anyone else.
Desmond could see, hear, and do things that Mary sure as hell couldn’t. Nothing as powerful as healing people like Luca, but he had made a coin float, and seemed to be excellent at convincing people that his needs were theirs, even more than before. He also seemed smarter. Desmond had always flirted with genius, but The Light seemed to tune his intelligence tighter, as if it took everything good and made it better.
The mere fact that Desmond managed entry into Black Island Research Facility and had convinced Director Bolton to let him (a civilian) head up a search for the vials spoke volumes for just how much The Light had improved Desmond’s verbal skills. Or it spoke volumes about how desperate Black Island was to get any sort of help in a war it was losing against an enemy it barely knew, let alone knew how to defeat.
“Do you feel different?” she had asked Desmond one night.
“Of course. I’ve been changed from The Light. You have too, Mary. We all have. It’s inside us all.”
Mary did feel stronger, but chalked that up to her many months of training, not some alien DNA or whatever the hell she had coursing through her body. If pressed, Mary would have confessed that she felt nothing special at all.
But that couldn’t have kept her from denying the changes in Paola, even before she’d entered the chamber. Her daughter had somehow become a healer, like Luca, and had aged just the same.
Mercifully, Paola had stopped gaining years since their return. Though she’d also healed no one. It was hard for Mary to find comfort in that.
Mary watched Paola talk with Teagan, and thought the same thoughts she’d been threading together all morning: she’d settle for whatever she could when it came to Paola. Mary was just glad to have her daughter back, even if she wasn’t exactly the same.
Brent returned from the kitchen, holding a cold Diet Coke in each hand. He offered one to Mary.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the Coke as he sat down beside her.
They both looked at Brent’s son, Ben, lying on his belly, pushing two trains on the floor, lost in his own little world. Considering that his mother had been murdered in front of him three weeks ago, Mary was surprised that the five-year-old wasn’t an utter wreck.
Mary looked at Brent. “How are you holding up?”
“One day at a time.” He sipped his drink, eyes on his son. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “It all still feels so surreal. I think the worst is not knowing what will happen next. I mean, how do you tell your children that everything will be all right when you don’t know what the hell is going on?”
Mary didn’t know Brent that well — they hadn’t been together on the other Black Island, or here for long — but he seemed like a good man. And she could tell by the way he watched Ben that he was as fiercely protective of his son as she was of Paola.
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
Mary wasn’t sure how much he knew of their ordeal, or that Paola was now carrying The Light. She certainly wasn’t about to initiate a conversation, especially in front of the kids.
“What do you think’ll happen if Ed doesn’t play ball?” Brent asked.
Jade looked up, waiting to see what she’d say. Mary pretended not to notice Ed’s daughter watching.
“I don’t know. But Desmond is a good man. He won’t let anyone harm h
im.”
Brent took another sip and said nothing.
The room’s air felt heavy, dragged down by Desmond being part of the Black Island Guardsmen. They were getting along, but their world felt temporary.
Brent was right — they didn’t know what might happen next. Mary trusted Desmond to keep the wolf far from their door, but knew she was the only person she could ever truly count on to put the wolf down.
* * * *
CHAPTER 6 — LUCA HARDING
Luca sat in the passenger seat as Rose drove along the highway on their way out of town before anyone found them.
When he’d asked who was looking, Rose said there were people at Black Island searching, for both them and the vials. And while she didn’t think they knew the The Darkness was hiding in her, her shell had allowed a man to escape who could tell others: Boricio Wolfe, the Earth version of the man who had once shared an adopted father with Luca. They’d have to be careful, the opposite of his time at the pool.
It was only a matter of time before agents came looking. They had to find somewhere to go — far away.
It was weird to feel like he was in trouble even though Rose hadn’t expressed the typical human emotions like anger or disappointment, nor had she scolded the boy. She was a puppet for The Darkness, and whatever was left of the old Rose had either left or gone silent. The Darkness felt some emotion, but it wasn’t the same as a person’s. It was primal, more instinctive, and didn’t seem to hold grudges or sulk.
Still, Luca felt horrible for what he’d done. He couldn’t get the images of all those dead people out of his head, especially the girl, Ashleigh. He felt like he’d lost a lifelong friend. She shouldn’t have died. None of them should have. He’d messed up and let his anger at the bullies consume him. In that way, he wished The Darkness would take over more and help him feel less. To simply do and be.
Rose, as if reading his thoughts, said, “Don’t feel bad about the people at the pool. They’re animals, really.”
“I like animals.”
“Why do you care about people so much? They’re cruel, unpleasant, and they’ve not been terribly kind to you.”
“I dunno.” Luca put his feet up on the dashboard and stared at his new blue Nikes and their neon-yellow laces.
“Well, if it helps at all, know that they’ve moved on to something better.”
“Like heaven?” Luca was surprised to hear Rose suggest such a thing.
“No, I mean that when things die, their energy moves on to become something else.”
“Like reincarnation?”
“Not in the way that humans see it, no. You become part of something else — another person, an animal, a plant perhaps. Matter does not die. It changes form and becomes something else. We helped those people move on to a likely less-painful existence.”
“Sorry,” Luca said, staring out the rain tickled windows. “I don’t see it that way.”
Rose turned on the wipers and headlights. Luca found it weird how her inner alien knew to do such little things like drive and respond to the weather. He wondered, not for the first time, if there were more of Rose inside her body than he’d felt during their mental connections.
Is it possible that The Darkness inside her is hiding her from me?
Yes, Luca’s Darkness said.
It had been a while since he’d heard from his alien. Since the pool.
So there is some part of Rose still alive in her?
Yes, what makes you wonder?
Luca had flashes of the Rose he knew on his home world. The woman who had been in love with his adopted brother, Boricio Bishop.
Why not let her go? You’re inside me now. Give Rose her life back. We don’t need her.
Do you feel sorry for her? The Darkness asked.
Luca thought about lying, but figured the alien inside his mind might surely sense a lie.
Yes. She was happy before. You’ve stolen her life.
We’ve stolen yours, too. You’re not complaining.
It’s different with me. You aren’t forcing me to do anything. You’re not taking over my body. Right?
Correct, Luca. You can champion our cause, and help us to usher in a new era for humanity. Working together.
Well, you have me. You should let Rose go.
We still need her, The Darkness said.
Why?
Because it’s not easy for a child to travel without suspicion. We need her to help us find the other vials. That is the only way we can win the coming war.
And after we’re done with her? Can she go free?
Nobody will be … free, as you say, Luca. It’s time for your species to evolve. Better she stay with us rather than risk losing her to The Chaotic Darkness.
What do you mean Chaotic Darkness?
We are a collective, Luca. We are many; we are one. But as you know, there is The Light, which hopes to destroy us. But there is yet another faction of The Darkness, a part we’ve lost control of after growing too quickly. This Chaotic Darkness festers in weak minds, urging their owners into violent acts before taking their lives. They threaten our exposure. We must gain control over all of The Darkness, and The Light. Only then can we hope to evolve humanity.
How will we do that?
Once we find the vials we’ll be unstoppable. We will consume The Light and all those attempting to halt evolution.
What if we can’t get the vials? What if The Light gets them first? What will The Light do with the vials?
The Darkness said, The Light will find and kill us, along with any humans serving as host. If you want to live, if you want Rose to live, you must help us.
So I don’t have a choice?
Correct, Luca.
* * * *
CHAPTER 7 — MARINA HARMON
Three weeks ago
Her father’s words echoed in her head as Marina travelled the tunnel’s length toward the monastery cellar two blocks from their compound.
“There’s a man there I want you to find, Father Thomas Acevedo. Tell him who you are. He will help you.”
“Help me what?” she’d asked.
“Save the world.”
Marina clutched the black metal box close to her chest, knowing that the two vials inside, with their mysterious glowing blue liquid, were more important than anything — from Steven’s betrayal and attempted murder, to the world splitting at its seams while Father’s ghost rose to warn her that his prophecies were true.
She wasn’t a devout believer in the religion he founded, The Church of Original Design, but believed he was onto something, and that there were great dangers facing the world.
Marina reached the cellar, a dark-red door barely visible in the dim lights running along the corridor, and was surprised to find no lock. Just a gold-colored metal door handle.
Marina opened the door, still in her pajamas, and found herself in the monastery cellar: long, dark, and piled with old dusty boxes. Concrete walls and wooden beams brought thoughts of her early twenties, and old Parisian churches. A stairway led to another door, this one black with no knob — a deadbolt.
Great. What do I do now? Knock?
Marina felt stupid. She didn’t know the first thing about the monastery, even though it was only two blocks away, and shared a tunnel with her compound. She didn’t know much about monasteries in general, but couldn’t recall ever hearing of a ‘father.’ They had monks, nuns, and friars to the best of her recollection.
Who the hell is Father Thomas Acevedo?
Is the church Protestant? Catholic? Something New Age I’ve yet to hear of?
It didn’t matter. If her father said to go there and find this man, that was enough for Marina.
She ascended the steps and knocked on the door. The wood was thick and dense. Her knock felt as if it went nowhere.
She waited a minute then knocked again.
The door swung open to a bald man in black robes. He looked around fifty years old. He cast his eyes up and down, but said nothing.
>
Marina wondered if he’d taken a vow of silence. She felt suddenly stupid for how little she knew of other religions.
“My father sent me. My name is Marina Harmon.”
The man looked confused.
“My father is Josh Harmon. He was head of The Church of Original Design. He told me to speak with Father Thomas Acevedo.”
The monk’s eyes widened in recognition. He swallowed, as if suddenly afraid.
A chill ran through her body. Marina felt like she’d suddenly made a mistake, or maybe Father had in telling her to come here.
The monk nodded then stepped aside, ushering Marina in with his hand.
She followed, clutching the box even tighter to her chest.
The monk led her through the basement, through a long hallway, then up four flights along a narrow stairway that seemed like it might have once been a servant’s stairway in a forgotten long ago. The place felt at least a century old and smelled of old wood, though Malibu wasn’t known for antiquity.
She continued following until the stairway stopped on what she figured was the third floor: a long hall with a single red door at the end.
The monk pointed, ushering her forward toward the door.
“You’re not coming with me?”
The monk shook his head, then started down the stairs.
Marina was equally freaked and confused.
Who are these people?
She approached the hallway’s end, slowly, footsteps clomping on the wooden floors no matter how mousy she made them.
Turn around. Go home.
She couldn’t go home. Steven would likely be there, waiting to finish her off.
As Marina drew nearer to the door she heard a man humming, perhaps in some sort of prayer.
