The Prophet: Resurrection: A Sci-Fi Thriller

by David Beers

  Brinson had started flying again as soon as he fell into his seat, though Rhett thought probably more out of survival instinct than any real thought. The ship was now rushing away from the city with no destination in mind.

  That’s not true, he thought. You know where this thing is going.

  The last thing David had told him before leaving fully.

  Rhett sat with his eyes closed, remembering what it had felt like. Before David took over, he’d never realized his mind was like this very transport, one he controlled. When David had stepped in, though, his hands were ripped from the controls and he was shoved in the back—which was bad enough. The real pain, though—the outright terror—came when his brain understood what was happening: that it was no longer in charge. Insanity had taken over, a desperate need to regain mastery of itself.

  Yet, Rhett hadn’t been able to. No matter how much he wanted control, he was forced to merely watch, though he could barely do that. The frantic need to take control again consumed everything, so even as the ships fell, Rhett barely saw them.

  It wasn’t until he collapsed into the chair, breathing ridiculously hard, that he understood what had happened.

  “What does it mean?” Reinheld asked. Leaning forward, eagerness across his face. “I mean, I felt that. It was almost like the Summoning, but … not exactly. What’s it mean?”

  Rhett heard him turn around and finally opened his eyes. He was exhausted, his muscles trembling. He hadn’t even begun to process what it might have done to him physically—barely able to keep up with the mental portion.

  “He’s alive,” Rhett said and then turned to look at Rebecca. “The Prophet lives.”

  She sat across from him, but was staring to his side, out the window. Her eyes were wide and she looked lost and frightened, like a child waking up on the street of an unknown city.

  “That’s not possible,” Brinson said from up front, her voice shaking. “I saw him die. It’s been almost two weeks. It’s not possible.”

  Rhett didn’t take his eyes from Rebecca. It didn’t matter what the woman up front said, nor the other man sitting in this transport—even if he was one of the converted. Rhett and Rebecca knew the truth, and that’s why she now stared endlessly out the window, because she knew what was to come.

  “We’re going to him,” Rhett said.

  “What?” Brinson asked, whipping around in her seat. “No we’re not. If that’s what you’re thinking, get it out of your head.”

  A small grin crossed Rhett’s face. “What do you think, Rebecca? Should we go see your brother?”

  She said nothing, only stared forward with unsure eyes.

  “Are you listening to me, damn it? We’re not going to him, even if he’s alive.”

  The muscles in Rhett’s arms and legs were trembling, and all he wanted to do was sleep … but he knew he couldn’t—not for a long time. He had slept for the past two weeks, and now his Prophet was calling him. Sleep would wait, forever if need be. Rhett finally looked away from Rebecca and to the front of the ship. “Whatever you have to say, it doesn’t matter any longer. Look around you. You’ve rescued those that follow the Prophet, and the Prophet is alive. You’re outnumbered, and even if you count this traitor back here as one of yours, I promise, the one I follow will ensure neither of you ever take another breath before he allows harm to befall me. So, Sister Brinson, you can choose to do as I say, or you can face the consequences.”

  The woman stared at him and Rhett saw understanding falling on her like rain from above, soaking her features. She had thought, at the very least, that she could control those in here. They had been dependent on her for their very lives. Perhaps the True Faith would murder her for what she’d done—but Rhett didn’t give a damn what reasons caused her to do it. Maybe he would have if things had gone differently the past hour, but with David returned, what these infidels wanted no longer mattered.

  The Unformed would come. The Union would happen.

  And the woman now saw how little control she possessed.

  She looked to Reinheld with tears in her eyes.

  Rhett followed her gaze, not knowing how that would play out. Clearly the woman felt for him, had risked everything to save him—but Reinheld was sworn. He’d taken the Blood.

  And so did Rebecca. Don’t forget that.

  Reinheld nodded to the woman, approving Rhett’s message. He remembered his duty.

  “Go ahead and put in the coordinates I just gave you,” Rhett said, his nano having sent them to her.

  She stared out the window for a few seconds, not moving. Finally, though, Rhett saw her eyes light as she fed the ship what he wanted.

  He looked back to Rebecca. “Have any thoughts on the matter?” Rhett could still see the red marks across her neck from where he’d strangled her. He was glad that he’d listened to Brinson, though he hadn’t had much choice. He wouldn’t have risked Christine’s life, even to kill Rebecca.

  He hadn’t killed her though, and now David would take care of it. In a much more painful way, Rhett was sure.

  Rebecca finally looked at him, and Rhett saw the tears floating over her eyes. He didn’t know if fear or regret caused them, and he truly didn’t care.

  “It really was him, wasn’t it?” she asked.

  Rhett nodded.

  Rebecca did too, though Rhett thought it was to herself. Affirming what she’d already known.

  “No,” she said, her voice almost watery. “I guess I don’t have any thoughts, Rhett.”

  “You know what he said before he let go?” Rhett asked.

  Rebecca stared forward, waiting for his answer.

  Rhett smiled. “He said, ‘Bring her to me’.”

  She looked away and stared outside the transport’s window.

  Rebecca might not have said much to Rhett, telling him she didn’t have any thoughts on the matter—but that was a lie. Rebecca was filled with thoughts, and despite what Rhett might think, they weren’t concerned with herself.

  Rebecca watched the buildings in the distance, Brinson having taken the ship away from any major cities. They were tilted up and heading toward one of the True Faith’s exits. Rebecca had no idea how they would get by security, but she also didn’t care.

  The Prophet lives.

  That’s what Rhett had said, and she’d known it was true. She hadn’t needed Rhett’s confirmation. Rebecca had felt the same thing he did, and then she’d watched the strands climb his arms and his eyes turn gray as if he was David.

  Only Rhett could never be David, nor the Prophet.

  Rhett couldn’t make her blood itch in an indescribably pleasant way.

  Rhett, like her, was only a servant at David’s feet—and now their master had returned.

  You failed, she thought. You failed and now it’s too late.

  Maybe not. You weren’t the one who began this, so don’t start thinking you’re the one in charge of it.

  No, Rebecca hadn’t started this. Revelation was given to her. So maybe there was hope yet.

  Not for you, though.

  Finally the selfish part of her mind spoke up, telling the truth. She was being brought to her brother, the man she had tried to kill, and she knew he would have no mercy. During her captivity, with everything she had told that Priest, wasn’t that the overall theme? David’s hate made him merciless. Rebecca was heading to her death, one more certain than what she’d faced under the True Faith’s captivity.

  Rebecca closed her eyes and did her best to block out the world around her. She could still hear the air propulsion system humming along outside, but that helped mask any of the noises inside the transport.

  Remember, she thought. Remember what was revealed.

  Rebecca wished more than anything that the voice would return. She hadn’t heard it in five years, not since she first started down the path that led her to this transport. Rebecca could find solace in that voice, even now, because she knew the truth behind it.

  When she had thought David d
ead, remembering that voice caused Rebecca fear. Because she had a feeling that David might not cease existing, but might join the Unformed. Just as the owner of the voice had a thousand years ago.

  More than anything, Rebecca wished Rachel Veritros would come to her now. If not to tell her what to do, then to give her some comfort on the way to her death.

  The sky was gray, but no longer with static. Rain clouds floated above, heavy and blocking any blue that was beyond them—yet, the rain clouds were infinitely better than what had been there before.

  David had retreated across the beach and beneath the trees lining it. The rain was going to come and he would be here for a day or two, depending on how quickly Rhett could get to him.

  An hour had passed since David saw the woman and he was still trying to come to grips with everything happening around him. Not just her—but his own ‘death’, his resurrection, the state of his revolution, and his sister.

  An hour wasn’t nearly enough time to come to terms with with it all.

  He lay on the sand, his head on a rock, and stared up at the sky.

  David didn’t understand what had happened up there. He’d gone to the girl, frightened of her power, and stood before her. What she’d done inside that building … he had never even considered it possible.

  Time had stopped, or come as close to it as possible. The girl wasn’t ripping through physical objects or burning people alive with her power. She had …

  What? What is it that you saw?

  David had been connected to her in a way that grew beyond intimacy. They weren’t exactly a single entity, but they’d been close to it.

  Then what? What did she do?

  He didn’t know how it was possible, but he wasn’t going to deny what he’d seen and felt. Time, in that building, had stopped. She and he the only entities still flowing through the space-time continuum at a normal pace.

  David also realized she still didn’t understand what was happening to her—and that was to his advantage. Her power was far beyond his, and there wasn’t any sense in denying it. She had developed so much quicker and gone so much further, that it might not even be fair to consider the two of them similar. David’s abilities … well in comparison, hers were to his, what his were to regular humans.

  Yet, she was clueless about anything happening around her. What David had seen—the entire sky filling with her power—was a reaction. She’d grown frightened or angered, and that was result.

  Both of those things could be to his advantage.

  Lying on the beach, David’s eyes turned gray again. He wanted to check on her. He stared up with those endlessly burning eyes, no pupils to focus on anything, thus appearing to see everything and nothing at once. He remained like that for a long time, perhaps as long as an hour, but he didn’t think about shutting down. He needed to know.

  Finally, he felt her. Distant and in a place he had never ventured to, nor even knew existed. He could only partly see it, and only because she was there inside it. A place of glass, black glass. It wasn’t the Beyond. It was somewhere separate from this Earth and the Unformed. David didn’t know if he could get there, but he wasn’t going to try. He only needed to know that the woman still lived.

  It was the only thing that mattered, because if she was still alive, then David’s mandate was in jeopardy. The Unformed had been right about wanting to kill her. It sensed her power long before David, knowing the danger she would pose.

  For now though, she had gone somewhere that David couldn’t venture. And as long as she remained there, she wasn’t here. She wasn’t going to interfere.

  Does she want to? David asked himself. Did the woman you saw above seem like she wanted anything to do with you? Anything to do with this at all?

  His eyes returned to their normal state, and David blinked.

  No … No, she wanted nothing to do with you, nor anyone around her. What did she say?

  ‘All of you, you all want fucking something. And now look, look around you! Is this what you had in mind? Time stopped and everything around me about to be completely destroyed!’

  David’s mind was quiet for a bit as he considered those words, taking them in fully. She didn’t want to stop him; she wanted to get away from it all. That was why she’d disappeared, quarantining herself from contact from anyone.

  Yet, the Unformed saw something else—not a frightened woman with powers she didn’t understand, but something that had to be eradicated.

  There’s more happening here than you see, he thought, and then, but that was the case with Rebecca, too.

  David put away thoughts of the woman; she was gone and might not return. David’s mission still existed and he had to focus on accomplishing it.

  Rebecca was on her way here.

  She knew he was alive.

  A crack of thunder rang through the sky and David heard the first drops of rain begin falling. He stood up and walked out beyond the trees’ cover. The rain hit him immediately and he kept walking toward the ocean. However he had survived the past week, his clothes had also been protected. David took his shoes off about ten feet from the shoreline and then went to it. He waded in until the ocean water was to his waist.

  The rain fell harder and he stood in it, letting it wet his long, dark hair.

  Rebecca had tried to kill him. He’d thought she was the traitor before he’d fallen from the sky, but when he touched Rhett hours ago, he discovered the truth. Rhett’s hate burned bright for her—even the pain and fear he felt when David shoved him aside couldn’t hide it. Rebecca had done something, though David couldn’t understand that part—he’d been too focused on defending Rhett.

  His sister.

  She was the one.

  What are you going to do? he asked himself. He felt no rage, not yet at least, though he knew it would come. Right now, standing in the ocean, he felt a betrayal deeper than the ocean. It soaked him more than any amount of water ever could, drenching him to his bones.

  She was coming, though—Rhett would bring her. David would let himself feel rage then, and she could finally understand how badly she’d hurt him.

  Four

  The First Priest stood in the doorway of the One Path’s Minister’s office; her name was Trinant One and the only Minister to be a woman. The entire One Path’s …

  And that’s when the First understood he was out of his depth, because he didn’t know what to call the One Path’s Priesthood. They weren’t Priests, but surely had another name for themselves.

  It didn’t matter, he supposed. He did understand that their entire Priesthood (or whatever they called themselves) was made of women, and realized that might create different dynamics. He just didn’t know how.

  The plain and simple truth was that the First Priest had not been trained for the position he found himself in, but he was here nonetheless. He had been trained to take care of the True Faith, but not in inter-religious diplomacy; that had always been the High Priest’s job.

  Back inside the High’s massive building, things had moved quickly once the Pope started speaking. The One Path’s ships had still been intact, though the True Faith’s had been crunched. Literally, there was no other word for it, and the First wished he had been able to see them fall from the sky—broken and shattered. He would have loved to watch while trying to figure out which transport the Priestess was in, her body descending to a watery, unmarked grave.

  The One Path had swept in quickly, and thank Corinth they hadn’t fired upon the building. The Pope took care of that, ensuring first that there was no immediate threat.

  The High was arrested by the One Path.

  The First contacted the Council, briefing them on what was happening. He forced an emergency vote and had been granted Temporary High Priest status until a more formal selection could happen. The First wasn’t worried about that, he would take on the High’s mantle as soon as he could fly back to the True Faith.

  He’d also been informed that Raylyn Brinson had … and, even now, he
could barely think the words. That she had somehow escaped with her lover, as well as three other prisoners. From what he understood, they were still being tracked down, but the First simply couldn’t focus on that right now. He would grow too angry if he did, thinking about that bitch Raylyn Brinson. He would have to deal with her once he was finished here.

  It’s odd, he thought, still standing just inside the Minister’s office. Thinking of myself as the High Priest. He still considered himself the First, though in time he thought that would change.

  The First cleared his throat; a minute had passed without the woman even acknowledging his presence.

  He didn’t understand why the High had ever wanted to come here, clouds be damned.

  Trinant finally looked up at him. “Come in. Have a seat.”

  The First walked across the room, glancing out the floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around the entire outside of the globe. He sat down.

  The woman stared at him. “How can I help you?”

  As if he was just some random visitor having dropped in.

  “We need to discuss what is to become of the former High Priest,” the First said. He understood what was happening here, that the woman was treating him like a lower class because she thought he wasn’t a Minister. She needed to realize, and quickly, that the First’s fortunes had changed.

  “What is there to discuss? He’s a trespasser and a traitor to mankind, and he’s our prisoner. He’s going to stay that way until he faces our One Tribunal.”

  “You’re going to prosecute a former Minister?”

  “Yes,” the woman said. “He’s a criminal.”

  The First looked to his right, out the window that showed the sky. Gray clouds floated across the expanse, and a chill went down the First’s back as he thought about the gray static. He felt it again, briefly, brashly scraping across his skin, feeling like it was peeling him alive.

  He pushed the thoughts from his mind, but didn’t look back toward the Minister.

  “You look at me as less than you, don’t you?” he asked.

  “You’re a lesser Priest. You’re like the people coming in and out of my office right now. I’m sure in your territory, you’re treated like Corinth himself, but here, you’re nothing. You hold no power here. None. We will do as we see fit.”