The Elders

by Dima Zales

  Looking at his stern face, I feel a sense of camaraderie. For what feels like the first time, I’m happy to see Caleb, and I’m cheering for him.

  Of course, Caleb doesn’t need my moral support. His hands are around John’s throat, and his frozen knuckles are marble white from exertion. Caleb’s grip must be devastatingly strong. The result is something I didn’t even think was possible. The tips of Caleb’s fingers are inside his opponent’s neck. I’m not a doctor, but I think Caleb is in the process of ripping out John’s Adam’s apple.

  John also has a knife wound in his belly. Caleb’s signature knife is lying a foot away, covered in blood.

  Out of all of Kate’s people, Richard—the scorpion—is the only one missing.

  Is he missing because he’s the puppeteer of this madness?

  I push the Temple doors open and walk inside.

  The halls are almost empty, but in the far corner, I see a lone monk, barely out of his teens. He looks to be heading toward the big doors at the back.

  Deciding to try Reading him for any useful information, I reach out and touch his bald head. Nothing happens, though. The raging emotions brought on by what’s happening outside make the focused state of Coherence extremely difficult for me to achieve. I focus on my breath and push the horror I witnessed out of my head. In, out . . . In, out . . . Though not calm, I achieve a robotic sense of relaxation, but only after what feels like an hour. It’s enough, though, and I get inside the young monk’s head.

  * * *

  We see our brothers carrying the two strangers into the guesthouse, and we follow them curiously. The sight of a young, pretty, long-haired female is a rare one at the Temple. True, we have sisters, but they don’t count. This one is even prettier than the younger of the two women staying in the guesthouse.

  I, Darren, disassociate from the young monk’s thoughts. If I weren’t in a state of utter despair, I’d find it curious how the monk tried to fight against his hormone-inspired thoughts. Instead, I focus on the facts. To my huge relief, the two people he saw were Mira and Thomas. They were alive, and the monks were dragging them to where Julia and her mother are staying, and I know exactly where that is. Before I exit the monk’s head, I fast-forward through his memories a little more in search of anything useful, and I’m instantly glad I went through the trouble.

  “Take me with you,” we say to the Master. “Let me protect the Enlightened ones.”

  “I want you to hide in the forest,” the Master says. “I want all the younglings to do so.”

  “But where are you taking them?” we ask, our heart heavy. “What will happen to us?”

  “We’re going to sneak them out. There’s a path we can use at the back of the Temple,” the Master says. “Then we’ll hide in the forest, just as you must.”

  “But the others will fight—”

  “They are old enough to make that choice,” the Master says, “and wise enough for me to accept it.”

  “But I must—”

  “Please do as I tell you,” the Master says wearily. “Do not make this old man beg.”

  “Okay, Master,” we say, lying for the first time this month. “I will run to the forest.”

  We watch the Master and a few of the older monks leave.

  We watch as our brothers walk out to do battle in front of the Temple’s entrance.

  We have no intention of running into the woods.

  We’re going to help our brothers.

  We’re going to join the fight.

  But when the gunfire begins, we find it hard to summon the courage to go.

  We take a step toward the entrance, then take two steps back.

  I, Darren, can’t take any more of the fear and doubt inside my host’s head, and get out.

  * * *

  Looking the young monk over, I recognize the resolve and determination on his face. In this moment, he looks as if he won the fight against his fear. He’s going to join the massacre.

  I re-enter his head and Guide him to follow the Master’s advice to run and hide in the forest.

  When I’m done with this task, I realize something—an answer to a puzzle I noticed earlier. I couldn’t understand why the younger monks were fighting the older monks outside. Now, however, it occurs to me that the young monks, just like the one I Read, haven’t mastered the skill of resisting Reading and Guiding. So the Super Pusher, or for that matter, any member of Kate’s team, could—and did—turn the novice monks against their brothers.

  I find the idea of Pushing monks to fight each other particularly ghastly. Then again, this, at least, I can undo, but it’ll have to wait until I take care of something else—well, until I take care of two things actually.

  Which do I focus on first? I’m torn between going to the guesthouse to see whether Mira and Thomas are okay, and heading to the back of the Temple to find my grandparents.

  I decide to head for the guesthouse.

  I go through the outside dojo, which is now empty, and enter the mansion-sized building. No one is there, at least not on the first floor. As soon as I get to the second floor, however, I find an obvious sign of activity.

  The door to the nearest room has been ripped open and is lying on the floor, hinges bent. Before it was forcefully opened, it had been held in place by a latch with a big lock on it. By the looks of it, the door was padlocked from the outside.

  I walk down the corridor and spot the back of a figure standing in a combative pose, fists raised, next to another padlocked door. I think I know who it is, even from this vantage point, but I get closer to make sure.

  My suspicion was right.

  It’s Thomas.

  When I get a better look at him, my insides turn cold.

  Thomas’s hands are covered in blood.

  Chapter 18

  I stare at his bloodied hands in a stupefied daze until I realize the blood is coming from his damaged knuckles.

  Was he fighting for his life?

  No. As I examine the door he’s standing next to, I note the bloody prints on it—prints that match Thomas’s knuckles.

  He hurt his hands trying to enter this locked room.

  I check the door that was torn off its hinges. Thomas’s blood is smeared across the back, and there are also boot prints. Thomas was likely locked inside this room and broke out, and now he’s trying to get into the other room.

  I think I know what’s happening, but I want to be sure.

  I make my way back to the battlefield, this time running as if a rabid tiger is chasing me.

  I use a stick to pry the shotgun out of George’s arms; I don’t want to accidentally pull him into the Quiet with me. Then I return to the upstairs of the guesthouse and use the butt of the shotgun to push Thomas’s frozen body out of my way. I don’t want to bring him in either.

  I fire the shotgun at the door over and over. My ears beg for mercy, but I ignore them. On the fifth shot, the shotgun makes a clicking noise, indicating it’s empty. The door is in shambles, and I kick away what remains of it.

  As I suspected, Mira is inside. She’s lying on the bed, unconscious.

  Given Thomas’s crazed approach to opening the doors, I have to assume he’s trying to break in so he can hurt her. The ferocity on his face and the deep cuts on his knuckles offer no other alternative.

  There’s only one probable explanation.

  The Super Pusher is also controlling Thomas, the way he was controlling him at the funeral.

  Thomas is determined to get to Mira, and her door won’t last much longer.

  Shit.

  I look her over.

  Mira’s face looks almost angelic. The full intensity of how much I missed her hits me. I can’t bear to think there’s even a chance she’ll get hurt.

  No. I refuse to contemplate that possibility. I touch her forehead, determined to pull her in and warn her.

  Nothing happens.

  I touch her again.

  Still no effect.

  I shake her as thoug
h I could wake her up from the Quiet, and even try kissing her as if she were Sleeping Beauty and I her prince.

  Nothing.

  She must be Inert on top of being drugged up. Knowing Mira, I suspect she fought them as soon as she woke up from the van ride.

  Crap. I’ll have to continue facing this war zone alone.

  I consider pulling Thomas in, but that wouldn’t improve the situation. At best, I could make him Inert, but in the real world, he would still be quite capable of breaking down the door and hurting Mira.

  Pulling him into the Quiet to make him Inert would be too dangerous, anyway. If I failed to kill him and he killed me instead, I would be made Inert and left with no chance of untangling this mess—not that I can, at present, see any way to do so.

  Actually, there is one way.

  If I could reach Level 2, I could reverse whatever the Super Pusher did to Thomas. For that matter, I could reverse what I assume he did to George, Kate, and her crew.

  Of course, I can’t get to Level 2, so it’s pointless to dwell on it. For now, I need to get a better grasp on this fucked-up situation.

  With purpose adding stamina to my aching legs, I run out of the guesthouse. I have to find a way to get to the back of the Temple.

  I sprint, Reading young monks as I go, and I’m glad that I do. The exit is actually a hidden passageway. I have to go down into the Temple’s basement and take a bunch of winding corridors, and I do just that.

  When I exit the hidden passage, I find myself in the forest, surrounded by cops and Richard. They’re all pointing their guns at a white-robed figure.

  Edward.

  He’s one of the Enlightened and my step-grandfather of sorts—husband to Rose, my father’s mom. She had my father with Paul, who’s not her husband, for the sake of genetic purity. Of course, none of that Jerry Springer stuff matters right now.

  The bullet-riddled bodies of monks are strewn everywhere, confirming what’s already obvious: Edward is about to get shot.

  But then I notice something strange about Edward. He looks frightened, sure, but he also appears determined. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there’s triumph in his frozen eyes.

  I touch his forehead, determined to pull him in and find out what he’s doing.

  Bringing him into the Quiet doesn’t work, likely because Richard made him Inert.

  Edward’s right hand is hidden in the folds of his white robe. Something about the way he’s standing makes me suspicious of that hand, so I examine it—and my stomach turns.

  He’s about to pull the pin out of a grenade that’s been secured to his body.

  He wants to blow himself up and take his attackers out with him.

  No, that’s insane. There has to be a better way of dealing with this situation.

  I enter the mind of the first cop and watch Richard’s sickening, execution-style attack on the monks who are now dead on the ground.

  Then I start Guiding him.

  I instruct the cops closest to Richard: “You will not shoot this old man. You will swap your gun for a Taser and point it at Richard; then you will pull the trigger. Richard, the big guy to your left, is the FBI’s most wanted criminal, and you’re here to take him down. As soon as the Taser neutralizes him, cuff him. After this, do not allow anyone to follow the white-robed people.”

  To the cops closer to Edward, I command: “Use your Taser on the old man and then carefully secure his hidden grenade. You will tell him that everything is okay and that he can catch up with his people. You will make sure they are not followed.”

  I hope my efforts pay off. It’ll be a matter of timing, of the Tasers versus Edward pulling the pin from the grenade. Unsure of how else I can help my grandmother’s husband, I run deeper into the forest.

  After a few minutes, I see a group of white-robed figures. In addition to the Enlightened, there are some regular people here too. Notably, I spot Julia and her mother. I feel a fleeting anger; they took Julia, but they abandoned Mira, leaving her in danger.

  I walk back to the cops and get a handgun—just in case.

  When I return, I locate my asshole of a grandfather, Paul. Gun ready, I touch him to pull him in.

  Again, nothing.

  He must already be Inert, which means someone killed him in the Quiet before I got here. Given Richard’s current proximity, he’s the likeliest candidate—which means he knows where Paul is located in the real world, and by extension, the rest of the Enlightened.

  I touch a few more of the Enlightened and get the same results, which supports my theory that Richard knows they’re here, hiding.

  When I make my way to Rose, my grandmother, and touch her, I finally get lucky.

  A second Rose joins me in the Quiet.

  Her usually smiling face is filled with sorrow. When she registers me, though, her expression changes to one of confusion, quickly followed by such unfiltered hatred that she looks almost unrecognizable.

  “You bastard.” She slaps my face with all her strength. “You brought death to your own flesh and blood.”

  Chapter 19

  Rose’s words sting worse than her slap.

  Rubbing my cheek, I say, “This—whatever this is—is not something I caused. It’s the opposite. I’m here because I’m trying to help you.”

  “Help us, right,” she sneers. “Help put us all into early graves.”

  “Why would I say I want to help if it wasn’t true?”

  “I can think of a million treacherous reasons,” she says bitterly. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

  “Because I don’t need to lie to you.” My voice takes on a sharper edge. I’m quickly losing what little goodwill I had when I pulled her in. My jaw tightening, I show her my gun, trying my best not to make the gesture seem menacing. “If I wanted to harm you, I would’ve shot you already.”

  “I think you want to gloat.” Her sharp tone matches mine. “You want to enjoy my suffering before you kill me.”

  “Why the fuck would I want that?” I glare at her. “Where is this shit coming from? If anyone should be angry, it’s me, not you.”

  “Fine, what do you want?” The mask of hatred slips off her face, revealing a scared old woman.

  “I want you to help me help you, your husband, and the Enlightened.”

  As soon as I mention her husband, Rose’s face twists with pain.

  “He’s going to die,” she says hoarsely, her eyes brimming with tears. “He insisted on being a hero, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I say, exasperated. “I Guided the cops not to shoot Edward and to use a stun gun to stop him from blowing himself up. They also won’t attack you or Edward. They’re going to incapacitate their leader instead.”

  She stares at me. “Is this a cruel trick to give me hope before you snatch it away?”

  I sigh. “If you don’t believe me, just go Read them.”

  She gives a curt nod and does as I suggested. On her way to the cops, she looks much smaller and frailer than I remembered her. Today’s ordeal seems to have aged her by at least a decade.

  Approaching the first deputy, she grabs the flesh of his face in an angry, claw-like grip. I half expect her to poke the frozen man’s eyes out or kick him in the nuts, but she finds enough composure to just Read him. Then she does the same thing to another cop.

  Looking a bit calmer, she walks up to Edward and touches him. Nothing happens for her either, but she still hugs the old man, stroking his body from head to toe as though expecting to find a magic spot that might bring him in.

  I let her do this for a few minutes before walking up to her and gently saying, “I think he’s Inert.”

  She nods and her face crumples, whatever calm she gained dissipating.

  “The cops might not make it,” she says, her voice thick with tears. “He still might blow himself up, and now it would be for nothing.”

  “I can make the cops speak to him if you think
it’ll help,” I offer.

  She shakes her head. “I don’t think it would. He’s not in the right state of mind.”

  “Maybe you can try screaming at him?”

  “I’m too far away for him to hear me,” she says, and buries her face in her hands.

  “Okay, well, maybe when he sees the cops pull out the Tasers . . .” I’m grasping at straws here.

  She lowers her hands and nods, her mouth quivering as if she might start crying. I feel awful.

  “I’m sorry I pulled you in, Rose,” I say. “I was just looking for someone who wasn’t Inert. I didn’t think it through, how painful it would be, especially for you.”

  “So you’re really not behind all this?” She still seems to be having difficulties believing that. “I was so sure. We all were.”

  “No,” I say. “I mean, I did bring these people with me, but they were supposed to rescue Thomas and Mira, not attack you. It was supposed to be a stealthy rescue operation, with all of you none the wiser. Turning the Temple into a war zone was never the plan.”

  “But they are Pushers, aren’t they?” she says. “We learned that from the minds of the police after they attacked.”

  “They are Guides, yes, but that doesn’t mean they automatically can’t be trusted. I didn’t think you were prejudiced that way.”

  “I wasn’t, at least not until Pushers tried to kill everyone I hold dear.” Her mouth hardens. “Why do you think you can trust them?”

  “They work for the Elders,” I say. “Your equivalents among the Guides.”

  Her eyebrows pull together. “You knew that and thought the results would be different?”

  “When I spoke to them, the Elders wanted nothing but peace with the Readers,” I explain. “I was sure of it.”