by David Beers
“So, there’s no ambush coming,” Waverly said. He was quiet for a few seconds, looking down at his knees. Patricia said nothing, as she didn’t think he was done speaking. “Christian is taking us to Luke. Once we get there, I don’t know what will happen. Our best chance of being saved is a cop pulling him over on the way, though I think he’ll probably kill anyone that tries to stop him.”
“Has he killed anyone yet?” Patricia asked.
“No, I don’t think so. He would have, but we managed to … it doesn’t matter. If he doesn’t get pulled over, then we’ll end up with Luke.”
The Director didn’t need to say anything else. Patricia had only met Luke Titan once, when Lucy Speckle kidnapped her, but she knew very well what he’d done to her son. She knew that whatever was happening right now had been Titan’s work. Perhaps going to that mental hospital had been a mistake, Patricia didn’t know. She’d been trying to help her son. That was her job—had always been so.
Patricia leaned her head back against the wall. She closed her eyes, feeling the hot tears that threatened to fall down her face. Maybe this was the end. Maybe everything that Christian had gone through would finally be over, and if Patricia had to die to make that possible, then she would. She didn’t want to die, of course. She wanted to live. She had once wanted to see grandchildren, but gradually came to accept that wouldn’t happen. Now, she only wanted to see her son as healthy as he could be.
But, maybe she’d failed in that. Maybe they all had.
The voices burned.
It wasn’t something easily explained, but it was still true.
There were so many now that Christian couldn’t possibly keep up with what they said. The dead lining the roads were talking, no longer just standing there in salute. They all shouted different things. Sometimes single words made their way up out of the melee and Christian could hear them.
“… Kill!”
“Luke …”
“ … The desert …”
He never heard enough to understand full sentences, but he didn’t want to, either.
The words, the voices … they burned his very mind.
They’re consuming me, he thought as the truck barreled down the road. They’re eating me alive.
Christian sometimes glanced at the people sitting next to him. An unending cast of characters came and went. Sometimes they spoke and other times they sat in silence, letting the dead outside fill the cab with their voices.
Christian kept his eyes on the road, stopping only for gasoline. He didn’t think about food, or feeding those in the back. Even water was a distant concern, though he did split a water bottle between the four in the back. He had even loosened Franklin’s gag for a moment, until the man started screaming again, at which Christian had pistol whipped him.
A thin stream of blood had run from his forehead, over his eyebrow, and then down the side of his nose.
No one else said a word as they drank the water.
The back of the truck smelled but Christian didn’t notice. It was hard enough remembering where he was going, even with the map that he’d found in the glove compartment.
“Arizona,” Tommy said whenever Christian forgot. “Just keep on I-20.”
Tommy was still the rock that Christian leaned on. He was true north, even with a gash across his throat.
The problem with all the voices (besides Christian’s obvious inability to focus on much for long) was that the most dominant ones wanted very different things.
Tommy wanted to kill Luke.
The other … Well, he thought, “All of this is as it’s supposed to be. I don’t know how we ever doubted him, but he’s been right all along. He let us see what life is like without him. How horrible it is. And now, he’s giving us the chance to make amends, to come into his flock again.”
The mouth … It didn’t have any desires. Not really. “Just go to him. Let’s see what he says. Maybe he’s got some control over the situation. Maybe he doesn’t. If not, I’m sure we’ll find some mischief to get into.”
Ted Hinson was becoming a problem.
He really wanted the people in the back.
“They don’t love you,” he said when it was his turn to ride shotgun. “They’ve never loved you. Especially not that woman. Veronica. She never wanted to be your wife any more than my own did. You’ve got to teach them, Christian. You saw what I did. You need to do something similar. Now, I’m not saying that it’s got to be exactly the same. No, do something that fits your personality.”
Christian hated hearing it, but yet, his dislike didn’t stop the words.
Lucy had a unique perspective, of course.
“You’re still the sword, Christian. Thuh-Thuh-That won’t chuh-chuh-change. Luke is guh-guh-going to turn you into it. That’s what is huh-huh-happening hhhhere.”
And maybe there was something to that. Luke certainly thought this would change Christian for the better, and Christian was driving to him, wasn’t he?
The conversations continued endlessly as the hours dragged on. When they paused, the dead outside picked up the slack. There was no peace for Christian.
And so he kept driving toward the only peace he knew. Toward Luke Titan.
The Titan
The madness started with a young man and a mute—as near as anyone could later pinpoint, anyway. Madness—as stated before—has a special way of hiding until, all at once, everyone can see it.
The madness ended with two geniuses meeting in the desert.
The sun shone overhead like it had the past trillion days, beating down upon object and animal alike. It showed no mercy, and for one of the geniuses in the desert, it was an apt stand in for God. The sun was vigilant in its cruelty, and Luke could respect that. He might hate the cruelty, but the vigilance was to be admired.
Luke stood just outside the small stone building. The doctor was inside, tied up and gagged now. Luke didn’t need his insanity interfering with what was to come.
He saw the truck in the distance, rolling over the dirt road and sending dust up into the air. It flared out to the sides, creating transparent wings as if they carried the vehicle instead of the wheels beneath it.
Luke felt happiness, and it had been a very long time since such a feeling grew inside of him. Truly, he hadn’t thought he would ever experience such a thing again. Years and years had passed. Decades. And now, watching the genius he’d sent for finally arrive, something once dead inside of him had been resurrected.
As you clearly viewed the scarred man at the beginning of this story, please now see Luke the same. His faults. His evil. His insanity.
See it all, and then see him standing there in the desert, with heat falling across his body, and see his happiness. See the small smile across his face, his sharp eyes narrow as they look across the sand before him. We may not agree, we may not understand, we may even hate him, but we can still appreciate that happiness. For do we not know him?
We do, and at least some part of us must be happy for him.
See it well, for it is a single moment in a life that cannot be condoned, yet the purity of true happiness is something to be cherished.
Luke Titan stepped away from the building and walked out to meet the man he’d been calling for years. He went into the sunlight to welcome Christian home.
The truck slowed to a stop and Christian placed it in park. A thin layer of dust lay across the windshield, but he could still see out of it.
Luke stood in front of him.
It would have been easy to simply slip the car back into gear and plunge forward, but such a thought didn’t even enter Christian’s mind. The voices had stopped. No one sat shotgun next to him. He was alone in the cab of the truck for the first time in long hours.
He opened the door and stepped out, his feet somewhat weak as they touched the loose gravel beneath him.
“Welcome,” Luke said.
Christian’s right hand shook and tears filled his eyes. He hung onto the door like a small ch
impanzee holding onto his mother’s leg, frightened to venture too far away.
“You need to eat,” Luke said. “Come inside. I’ll take care of everyone in the back.”
“Don’t hurt them,” Christian said.
“You know that’s not my place. Come.” Luke approached him and put an arm around his waist. Christian hung his own over Luke’s shoulders and the two walked to the building in front of them.
They made their way inside, Christian barely trying to see the world around him. His hunger and weakness had hit him at once, only pure determination allowing him to go as far as he did—and its supply was now exhausted.
Luke sat him down and fed him. The food came from cans, but Christian didn’t care. He ate without looking at the room. He ate like an animal, without concern for the world, only knowing that his body needed the fuel.
The heat grew outside, but neither genius cared—indeed, Christian didn’t even consider what the back of the truck might feel like. His only focus was keeping his body from collapsing.
When he finished, he stared at the empty cans in front of him.
“Sleep for a bit, and when you wake, we’ll have our palaver.”
Christian nodded and allowed himself to be led to a small pallet in the back room. It was a simple cover with a pillow on top of it, but Christian laid down and was unconscious within seconds.
The metal door rattled as Luke opened it.
The sunlight flooded in, killing the shadows without a thought. Luke looked at the people before him. Everyone he wanted sat there, shielding their eyes the best they could from the brilliant light. Luke glanced over them quickly, determining how damaged they were. He didn’t want anyone dying before Christian woke, and would take all necessary medical precautions.
They were okay. Slightly dehydrated, overheated, probably hungry—but overall okay.
“Hi, Director Waverly,” Luke said. “Veronica, and Mrs. Windsor. Senator Franklin, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure to meet, but my name is Luke Titan. It’s truly an honor, given how much trouble you managed to create behind a desk. I always admire people that are good at their callings.”
No one said anything back, though the Senator tried. He roared something, though the sound was muffled by the tape around his head. He had a huge bruise sitting just beneath his hairline; to Luke, it looked like he’d been hit with a pistol, as he didn’t think someone’s fist could do such damage. Christian’s own hands hadn’t been bruised.
“First things first. Let’s get you all some water and a bit of food.”
“Why are we here?” Christian’s mother asked.
Luke smiled slightly. “We’re going to witness a birth.”
Luke climbed into the truck and went to Veronica. She stared up at him silently, but hate raged in her face. Her eyes were narrow and her lips little more than lines across her face.
“I see they managed to help you some at the hospital.” Luke said. “Though, I’m not sure it’s a good thing to replace the peace I gave you with this much anger.”
Luke lifted her up like a bride and brought her into the building. He sat her at one of the tables, though didn’t untie her. He went back to the truck and picked up Mrs. Windsor next. “I apologize for the indignity of being carried, but letting you all loose isn’t possible just yet.”
“You’re killing him,” she said. “But I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you’ve known that since the very beginning.”
“I’m freeing him.”
The woman spat in his face. Luke stood still for a moment. He blinked, but made no movement to wipe away the saliva. He carried her in the house and sat her next to Veronica. There were napkins at the end of the table, next to the canned food. He grabbed one and cleaned the spit from his cheek.
He went to the Senator and squatted before him. “You know a lot about me, right?”
The Senator nodded.
“I’m going to remove the gag, and your first instinct will be to start screaming. Christian is sleeping in the house and I can’t have you waking him up with such nonsense. If you do that, I’m going to hurt you, and then gag you again. Do you understand?”
The Senator nodded.
“Are you going to make noise if I remove the tape from your head?”
He shook his head. No.
“It’s going to hurt, so be ready.”
Luke wasted no more time. He reached behind the man’s head, grabbed the tape and simply tore the multiple layers apart, then ripped them from the Senator’s face.
He let out a scream, but stifled it quickly, his terror filled eyes finding Luke’s.
“That’s okay. Just make sure there are no more. Come now.” Luke lifted him up, tossing him over his shoulder like a pillow. He brought him inside and set him down at the same table. “I’m going to go get the disgraced Director, to which most of his disgrace can be laid at your feet. Again, kudos on that. I was never a great fan of Director Waverly. Please don’t do anything silly while I’m outside, Senator Franklin. There’s nowhere for you to go here. There’s no help coming. All you will do is wake Christian, and then the pain you’ve felt so far will seem like a dream. Understand?”
The Senator nodded and Luke held his eyes for another second.
Finally, he went to his old employer. He climbed into the truck, but didn’t approach Waverly. Instead, he sat down on the other side.
“Did you think it would end like this?”
Waverly stared for a second. His face was pale and dirty. His beard had climbed up his cheeks and down his neck. Urine stained his pants and Luke could tell he hurt from having sat in the same position for so long.
“No,” he finally said.
“To be honest with you, I didn’t think it would either. I thought it would end similarly, but these trappings we currently find ourselves in didn’t ever occur to me. To be honest, I thought it would be easier.”
“So you’ve had to expel some energy in order to wreck the world?”
“Energy? Don’t downplay what I’ve done. I’ve given the last half decade of my life to bringing you all here. Energy doesn’t begin to describe what I’ve had to do.”
“Do you think your mother would be proud?” Waverly asked.
“No. She would be aghast.”
“But you’re still here, holding us all captive and creating a monster out of someone who used to be innocent.”
“I am,” Luke said, “because I hold faith.” He paused for a second and looked out of the truck into the hot desert. “I wanted to talk with you some. You and I, we’ve never really spoken about all of this, have we?”
He didn’t look back at the Director, but knew the silence was agreement.
“What do you think when you see me?” Luke asked.
Waverly gave a brief and quiet chuckle. “You’re a fucking psychopath, Luke. You’ve killed or tortured everyone that cared about you. You’ve killed more people than I can count at this point. You’re insane on a level that the world hasn’t seen before. You make Hitler look like a kid playing in a sandbox.”
“It’s interesting that you compare me to him. Certainly no rational person can agree with what he did, but the man had a purpose, no? Have my attacks been random? Am I some serial killer hunting down hitchhikers?” He looked at Waverly. The man held his gaze, but said nothing. “There is purpose here. Do you deny it?”
“Purpose doesn’t make you sane, Luke.”
“What is sanity?”
“Seeing reality for what it is.”
“Then you tell me where I’ve faltered in that. At what point have I not seen things for exactly as they are?”
“Your sentencing said it better than I ever could,” Waverly answered. “This purpose of yours dictates your life, so you can’t even understand that what you’re doing is evil. You see nothing as it is.”
Luke leaned his head against the wall. “And that is your failing. It is everyone’s failing. You do not see things for how they are. Do you believe in God, Al
an?”
“I don’t fucking know, Luke, and discussing existential bullshit with you doesn’t interest me.”
“I figured it wouldn’t. But there is a God, and you’re sitting there bound because you couldn’t see him for what he is. I can. I have. I do. That’s why I’m sitting here able to stand and dance a jig if I want. So when you say I see things incorrectly, you’re experiencing cognitive dissonance, because otherwise our positions would be reversed.”
Silence fell across them for a few seconds, and then Waverly spoke again.
“You’re not afraid to kill to get what you want. You’re not afraid to destroy everything around you. That doesn’t make you right, just evil. Now shut the fuck up and let’s do what you brought us all here to do.”
Luke nodded and stood.
“Remember that you used people too, Director Waverly. Remember that Tommy should have never been allowed to keep chasing me. He was in no position to do so. And now he’s dead.”
Christian found himself in a very strange place. Not physically, but mentally. He understood that he was asleep, but also understood he wasn’t dreaming.
He was outside his mansion. He’d never been here before—never even considered exiting the building that he had painstakingly built. To him, the mansion had always been a place of refuge, and to think about an outside was only to consider going back into reality.
He was outside it now, though.
He turned around, taking everything in. The field was vast, though even that was an understatement. It stretched forever in all directions, not a single tree to be seen. If he had built this too, then he understood the reason: nothing could sneak up on him here. There could be no surprises that came from outside his mansion, not in his mind at least. He could see until the end of time from where he stood.
Had the field once been green? No longer. The grass—where it still stood—was brown and dead. In the distance he saw small funnels of dirt extending up into the air, tiny tornadoes wanting to live larger but not having the wind to create such a life.
