***
I stood alone in the woods, breathing and watching the bloated moon. Kreios-number-two was gone with my book, and my heart sank with the realization that I was not in control of my own destiny. I liked to feel some control, to be on top of things, but it seemed that my life was spiraling out of control.
A bird chirped, and I could hear frogs belching by the babbling stream. The scent of pine needles and the mixture that was the forest made me smile. It was this quiet and beauty that reminded me of better times. I filled my lungs and sat down, not worried about if Kreios would find me. I suspected he was watching and giving me time to process.
I thought of Maria and my son, Samson. The name Samson, how it was another version of Sam, did not escape me. My world was similar to the one I had with Maria. Did I name him Samson because I remembered Sam? I remembered bits and pieces. Like most memories, they come with trigger points—a smell, sound, or moment. I remembered how, after K and Sam died, Maria and I fell in love and married. After we became pregnant, I wanted to keep the memory of K and Sam alive, so we decided to name him Samson.
I sat down on a flat rock and ran a hand through my hair. My head hurt, and I could feel a throbbing behind my eyes. This was not supposed to happen—couldn’t happen. Reality was real; the dreams I had were just that—dreams. They couldn’t overlap and become real.
“God, I know I have not prayed in a long time. I’m not what I should be, and I feel like I don’t have any right to even talk to you. But I’m in trouble here. I’m so lost, so alone, and I don’t know what to do.”
I could feel my heart fill with fear and hope. Fear because I didn’t know what to do and thought that I might make the wrong choice. Hope because somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew God was real, knew that he, if anyone, could help me, and I hoped he would.
I felt dumb, and hot tears welled up in my eyes. I let myself cry, and even though it was not a manly thing to do, I didn’t care. This was beyond me, too much to take on by myself.
Tears ran down my cheeks, and I let them go unhindered. My chest heaved, and I sobbed, not knowing what I was supposed to do or even how to ask.
“Please help me! I can’t do this. I’m willing to do whatever you want. I’m so sorry for doing it my way all the time. I know now that without your help, I am nothing.” The events of the last few years all poured out of me as if a dam inside of me had broken open. Old feelings and hidden hurts filled with the images of things I had done consumed my mind.
I saw the men I killed in the cabin, the look of rage on their faces. Even justified, it still had an impact on me. I smelled the liquor and cigar smoke in the room of the Magician and saw the bullet as it ejected and pierced his skull. All the men I killed… their faces, their voices haunted me. I knew what I did to them was justified in my mind, but still, somewhere deep inside, I knew my soul was not meant to kill.
I wanted to save people, wanted to protect my family and my country. But at what cost? Was the cost my own soul, my heart, and my sanity? Was it worth it? I didn’t know anymore. At one time I would have said yes, but now…
My body shook, and I could feel my face burn as I let all the years of pain and confusion out. This was the true Mark Appleton. The killer, the tightrope walker, the man without fear, and the one who was supposed to have it all together. Here I was in some other time, weeping like a child because I was alone.
K whispered in my ear, and Maria hugged me, but I didn’t know if they were real. My life was just a sham, a fake reality, and nothing was real anymore.
I felt the presence of someone shadowing over me, and a strong arm enveloped me. Kreios took me in his arms and spoke in some other tongue. His voice was deep and soft, soothing, and after a while, I calmed down.
“This is you, Mark Appleton. You must release all your fears and doubt.” Kreios turned and looked at me. It felt like he was looking into my very soul.
“You need to trust me. I can help you, but you must open up your mind and let what is real just happen even if it should be impossible. With God—with El—nothing is impossible.”
I nodded and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. The heavy burden that I was carrying for so long seemed to drop from my shoulders. I couldn’t believe how good I felt, how free. I sucked in some more of the fresh mountain air and smiled. “Okay… okay. Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER 19
KIRK WESTON OPENED HIS eyes minutes after he passed out. Big B stood over him and was slapping his face. The sting brought Kirk back, and he wondered if the big guy was going to keep it up or stop now that he was awake.
“Okay… enough, I’m awake.”
Kirk rubbed his aching head and blinked to clear his vision. As soon as he moved, his shoulder screamed out at him.
“It went clean through, you should be fine—here,” Big B handed him a piece of torn cloth, and Kirk pressed it to the wound and grimaced. It hurt, and as he stood up, the world spun, but he managed to stay on his feet.
“Let’s go, we gotta get out of here.” Big B nodded and got under Kirks shoulder and began to half drag him toward the street. “I got it…” Kirk pushed away, stumbled, and almost fell again.
“You passed out, give it a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute…” Kirk focused on the ground in front of him and started walking. He felt the throbbing pain in his shoulder and used that pain to keep him alert. This was stupid, the world is going to hell, and looters are out shooting people.
Big B followed and stayed close to Kirk. Kirk could smell blood and sweat as the big man crowded him. He wondered if the he was hurt or if the blood smell was coming from him.
Moments later, voices came around the corner and three more people dressed in black started shooting at them. Kirk cursed and turned to face his death. Big B released his grip on Kirk, raised his stolen automatic machine gun, and laid down a wave of fire. Two of the men fell screaming, and Kirk fired but missed the third. He was still seeing double, and his head was pounding like a drum.
A bullet whizzed by his head and embedded into the concrete wall behind him. Bits of concrete stung the back of his neck, and this time, Big B put four bullets into the attacker’s chest. Kirk added one to his forehead. He smiled and watched the person fall. The attacker was wearing a mask so Kirk couldn’t tell if it was a woman or just a small man.
Kirk looked toward Big B and nodded. Turning, they headed toward the next block, and after ten minutes, they could see the hospital. It loomed ahead and was half lit up, but most of the lights were flickering on and off like a huge, blinking Christmas tree.
Kirk breathed in a sigh of relief; his vision was now back to normal. The building was still sectioned off by the CDC, but now, along with the CDC vans, there were also barricades, the National Guard, and the Army surrounded the building. Looters were throwing flaming cocktails at the guards, and the guards returned fire. As they watched, the mob of fifty or so moved back and scattered like ants.
The way the city had transformed in just a few short hours amazed Kirk. He thought of the years and centuries it took to build a city. How fast it could be torn down. People would riot with the smallest of pushes and turn violent for no reason at all.
“How do we get in?” Kirk looked at the situation and was not happy about the change. Every time I turn around, things go to pot. Big B studied the building and pointed toward the south end of the parking lot.
“We might be able to get in through the employee entrance… Might have to grab some suits, though.”
“Fine with me… You might have some trouble, though.” Kirk looked the big man up and down. He had to be well over three hundred pounds, maybe even four hundred. Thick arms and wide shoulders on a tall frame made Big B look more like a monster then a man.
Kirk thought a moment and remembered his FBI badge. He still had his badge from his short time on the special taskforce, but didn’t think he would be doing any more briefings for the Feds… they were a joke anyway, and they would be busy trying to keep
the country from falling apart. Kirk told Big B his plan, and B smiled and nodded.
“Should work… Worst case, we go in the old fashioned way.”
Kirk didn’t want to know what that meant. If he was thinking about going in by force against the CDC, the National Guard, and the Army, he would have to be crazy.
Big B hunched over and headed to the rear of the building, making sure to stay far enough away to be invisible and to keep in the shadows. Kirk followed, and soon the rear entrance was in view. A sawhorse marked the barrier, and four guards in camo stood with automatic weapons.
Here we go—this should get good. Kirk pulled out his pistol and badge. Big B wrapped his arms around his gut and started coughing, dragging one foot trying to look sicker then he was. Kirk Weston puffed out his chest and stayed just behind Big B and as they got closer, the guards all snapped to attention.
“Halt! This is a restricted zone!” The tall guard stepped forward and pushed up on his helmet, exposing a gas mask. He had a thick jaw and dark eyes that were too close together, making him look like a bug.
Kirk stepped clear of Big B and held out his FBI badge. “FBI! This man is infected, and we need to get him inside. I have direct orders from Captain Jacobson…”
The four raised their weapons and stood firm. “Not another step—we will shoot!”
Kirk could feel the rage enter his face and neck. Big B started to cough and fell to the ground. He was really hamming this gig up. Still holding up his badge, Kirk stepped forward some more. “I want to talk to your superior, this is a federal matter. Do you want to be responsible for the death of the president’s daughter’s personal bodyguard? I am not asking you, I am telling you—lower your weapons, or every one of you will die!” Kirk tensed every muscle in his back and arms. He was ready to kill if he had to.
Three of the guards let their weapon lower an inch and they looked toward their commander. He stared at Kirk, and then looked down at the big man on the pavement. He looked the part, and Kirk smirked at his own quick thinking.
“What are you going to do? Don’t just stand there like a bunch of dumb pigs, get out here and help the man inside.” Kirk let his voice grow hard and cold with self-importance. They hesitated and Kirk pulled out his .45 and pointed it at the commander. “I said, now!”
This move at the right time was stupid and genius all at the same time. If he would have pulled the gun a second earlier or one minute later, they would have gunned them down without thinking. But because he had them all twisted up, not sure what to do with the gun and his self-assured body language, it gave the move an authority that sealed the deal.
The commander’s eyes flashed in anger, but he lacked the stones to call Kirk Weston’s bluff. “You heard the man, get him inside!” Two soldiers pushed the sawhorse aside, hung their weapons around their chests, and stepped forward. They took Big B under his arms, and dragged him toward the door. He was too heavy to hold up, and he was still limp and gagging.
Kirk marched forward and shoved his ID in the commander’s face. “You see that name? You remember it, because if you don’t, next time I won’t be so understanding.” Holstering his weapon, he watched the commander read the badge name. It was signed by the director of the FBI and his face turned a brighter shade of red.
“I’m just doing my job…”
“Your job! Really, you’re going to give me that line?” Kirk was mad, his shoulder hurt like a mother, and he wanted to take it out on someone. The poor commander just happened to be in his crosshairs. “Your job is to use your head for more than a helmet holder. You have no idea what is going on here, do you? This situation is so beyond your pay grade. I don’t care what you think you know or what your orders are. Next time you see me coming, you better just lower your eyes and don’t even look at me. You got that, commander?”
The commander opened his mouth to speak, and Kirk wondered why he didn’t pull the martial law thing on him. In reality, the FBI had no power now that it had been enacted. But he knew that most soldiers had never had to actually defend against their own people. It was new to everyone. This bluff wouldn’t work in a week, maybe even in a few days.
Kirk swore and spit out the side of his mouth. The commander returned to his post, and Kirk proceeded through the three-stage, plastic quarantine barrier. The CDC wore full head-to-toe yellow suits, and when they saw Kirk they rushed him to a shower area.
“Sir, we need to check you for infection. Please sit down and we will have someone draw blood.” The lights flickered and Kirk looked up at the light strip and shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter now, I’m here and exposed. I’ll take my chances.” He flashed his badge and shoved the CDC tech aside.
“But sir, you…”
Big B was lying on a rolling bed. He sat up and brushed off the CDC worker who was trying to take his blood. “Look here, I need to talk to your supervisor.”
Kirk pushed past more CDC people and stood next to Big B. “Get me your supervisor—now!” The chaos of the floor with people crying out and doctors rushing in and out of rooms all came to a stop, and the crowd stared at the two as if they were from a different planet.
Kirk whispered to Big B. “You got mine?”
Big B reached into his cargo pocket and slipped the canister to Kirk. Once he had it in his hand, he said in a hushed voice. “Get the other one to someone high up… we need them to get going on mass production. Sorry to make you go through all this.”
“No prob, just get up there and save your little girl.” Kirk smiled and nodded. He knew that the next few hours, and maybe even few days, for Big B would be hell. Interviews, interrogation, and suspicion.
Big B held up the silver canister and said in his booming voice. “I have the antidote, get me your supervisor!”
CHAPTER 20
HOME.
The word means something different for everyone. For some, it is a warm word with feelings of joy and filled with good memories. For others, the word is confusing, something only read about or something made up on TV.
Home.
For me, it was not a place, not a house made of wood, plaster, and paint, but people. I loved my family. But I had more than one family. In one home were K and Sam, and in the other, Maria and Samson. Both real to me, real as it gets, and I had to choose.
Kreios walked a few steps away from me and his words rang in my head, bounced around like ball bearings. “You choose where home is. Where you end up is where you choose to be.”
“What about the key world? What about the people I love?”
“Wherever you are will be the key, and you in all the other worlds will continue on their paths independent of you. Do not worry, they will still be loved by you.”
I could not do it. I know this is the worst kind of betrayal: one of indecision. I might as well have slapped K in the face and stabbed Maria in the heart. Both decisions were not good enough to cancel out the other. Or was it because I loved both of them? Not in the same way, but both feelings were strong—strong enough to make me want to die.
I married K first, loved her and married her before I ever knew Maria. She had some sort of right to my love—first mention. But when she died, I was alone. I had to move on, to let her go. Maria didn’t deserve any less, and in my mind, K was both alive and dead.
“I can’t, you do it for me.”
Kreios turned and gave me a stare that I would never forget. “No. You must choose. This is your life, your future. However, remember that, whatever you choose, you cannot go back. If you keep dreaming, you will draw the wrath of the Creator. It may already be too late.”
“Take my hand.” I reached out, Kreios took my outstretched hand, and I closed my eyes. I would not think of anyone; I would let my subconscious decide. The light and the rush of fluid that I could feel run up my arm and into my nervous system took over my thoughts, and I let love fill me from the inside out.
I knew how I felt for K, I knew it had to be her, it was always her. Ev
en though I loved Maria, I couldn’t override the true feelings and commitment for K and Sam. My mind and head hurt; I felt like a sharp knife was being stuck in my ear. I screamed out and opened my eyes.
“What’s happening?” My vision was blurry and the air was cold as if someone left the window open while it was snowing outside. Where was I?
I was lying on my back on the floor of a living room. I searched my memories to find out what world I ended up in, to see if I was truly home. I searched for Kreios, but he was nowhere to be found.
Dark shadows moved at the foot of the couch, and I sat up. My head spun, and I almost vomited but held it down. I was home, in my own living room in the real world, the one with K and Sam, Isis, Kirk, and the rest of my friends. I was home. In my heart, I knew that this was the right choice. Maria would be loved, protected by me in some other life, some other time and place.
All my senses stood up on end, and the beating of my heart slowed. This sign of danger brought up all my instincts. The shadow moved again and a man stepped from the kitchen. I saw at once that it was not Kreios. Yet he moved with the same speed and fluid movements. Like silk, he walked into the living room, and I stood and searched for a weapon, anything—a gun, a knife, something to defend myself.
The voice that came from the man’s mouth was not human, not even close. It creaked and squawked like a bird or like claws on concrete. “Time is up—you have been judged.”
“The Brotherhood,” I stepped toward the lamp to my left. It had a sturdy wooden base and would have to work for a weapon. It was all I had.
The thing nodded and rushed me. I felt the same feeling of cold energy flow through and from my heart and out to my hands. The man, or thing, was the size of Big B, and fast. I didn’t have time to grab the lamp so I waited for the beast to tackle. My hands were glowing.
No.
No…
No!
If I did the bomb thing again, here in my own house, it would kill everyone. K and Sam were sleeping upstairs. I willed my body to calm down, to undo the energy I seemed to have drawn.
IN YOUR DREAMS (Mark Appleton #3) Page 12
