by Ted Dekker
“Fine. Twenty-four it is. Between the distraction and the assault on the armory, we’ll need them all.”
I’d tapped nervously as he talked, noting at least four sleeping on couches, two more along the far wall, maybe in sleeping bags. Half of echolocation is puzzle solving, putting bits of information from all available senses together to make educated guesses. My mind was working furiously to form the best picture possible.
“Any argument?” my father demanded.
“All the guns in the world won’t help us if any harm comes to my children before we find them,” Linda pressed.
“Which is why we’re going this afternoon,” my father said, then turned to me. “Rachelle’s joining us. She’s talked to Bill Baxter. Any chance he’d join us?”
I could feel their eyes on me. All of them. I stepped up to their table and feigned a glance over what I assumed was another map. “What’s this?”
“Sniper positions,” Scott said. “On rooftops.”
My lungs felt heavy. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the crowded space. My father had never served in the military, but he seemed to have the mind for it. But it was more than that. Like Linda, my father wasn’t thinking clearly. Even if they did get the guns, more guns would only mean more death. I had to find a way to stop them.
“So?” Linda said. “Any chance Bill will join us?”
“He’s with Barth.”
“You’re sure?”
“He’s parked outside the hardware store armed with an assault rifle right now. And they already know something’s coming. Try for the guns and it’s gonna all go wrong.”
“It already has gone wrong,” my father said. “We’ve lived under someone else’s thumb for too long—whether that was Simon’s, DARPA’s, or Barth’s hardly matters now. No more. We have Smith behind us, we move now.”
“Behind you? He’s the real threat here, surely you can see that. Even Bill knows that much.”
“Maybe, but not right now,” my father said. “Now it’s Barth, and Smith won’t interfere. We have to take Barth down before he takes us down, or there won’t be anyone around to deal with Smith.”
“Smith told you he wouldn’t stop you?”
“He did.”
“So he’s playing you against each other, telling Barth to kill anyone who defies his law, then telling you to go after Barth. Don’t you see?”
“Be that as it may,” Linda said, voice strained, “without Vlad Smith, we all die. We need him, at least for now. But we don’t need Barth. As long as he’s alive, no one’s free in this valley.”
Their plan said only one thing to me: more dead bodies.
I wanted to tell them what I knew, everything I’d experienced in Other Earth. But I knew that telling them would accomplish nothing.
I had to show them. More to the point, I had to show my father before he ended up dead.
And I knew exactly how I would show him.
“Is there any doubt in this room that when all is said and done, Vlad Smith is the greatest threat to this valley?” I asked them. No one spoke. “You know, Smith . . . the man who coerced Hillary into killing Simon, then ordered Barth to kill Hillary. That Smith.”
No one replied.
“And is there any doubt that Vlad seems to have taken an unusual interest in me?”
“As an example,” Linda said.
“More than just an example, trust me. I’m his ultimate objective. Even if you don’t believe that, it can’t hurt to give me one chance to confront him before you do anything crazy that could get half of you killed.”
“No,” my father objected, turning away. “No one’s putting you in harm’s way. I won’t allow it.”
“I just walked past seven of Barth’s guards and not one of them stopped me. Why? Because Vlad can’t risk me being harmed and he’s passed that order on to Barth. I’m the only person in this valley who can confront Vlad.”
“What on earth can you accomplish by confronting the man who has his finger on the button that controls this valley?” Linda demanded. “We have children out there, and he may be the only one who can find them!”
“Probably so, because he’s the one who took them.”
“You know that?”
“Who else?”
“Maybe,” she returned immediately. “All the more reason to play by his rules. He wants Barth out of the way, we give him what he wants.”
“I am giving him what he wants,” I said. “Me. All I’m asking is that you wait. What do you have to lose?”
“You!” my father said. “I can’t risk that.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Linda said. “What do you hope to accomplish?”
I hadn’t answered because they wouldn’t understand the truth. But I could give them something else.
“To take away his power.” I took their silence to be skepticism. “He still wants me to write in the Book of History. If all else fails, I’ll do it, but on my own terms. To do that, I have to get to the book. That means calling Vlad out, and I’m the only one he’ll come to now.”
No one voiced support.
“All I’m asking for is one chance. Like I said, you’ve got nothing to lose by waiting.”
“We have everything to lose!” Linda snapped. “We should be out there right now, ripping Barth’s head from his shoulders!”
“Maybe she’s onto something,” Hank said over by the map. “This all began with her refusing to write in the book. Maybe it’s all just a test. Either way, I can’t think of a better distraction than her calling Vlad out in the main square. You can bet Barth would be there. And where Barth goes, so do half his men.”
The room remained silent except for one of the sleepers, who rolled over and coughed.
“The perfect time to go after the armory,” he said.
This wasn’t what I had in mind at all. I had to stall them. Expose Vlad. Get my father to see differently before they started a full-fledged civil war.
“Actually, I need you all to be there with me,” I said.
Hank ignored me. “Instead of the hydro plant, we create a second distraction south of town, set a house on fire.” His voice held fresh enthusiasm. “It would draw Barth south to deal with it. Best chance we’d have of taking the armory, north.”
My father wasn’t agreeing, but he wasn’t rejecting the idea either.
“It has to be tonight,” I said, trying to buy time. “You want a distraction, I’ll give you one, but only after the sun sets. In the dark.”
“We can’t wait that long!” Linda said. “Besides, Vlad controls the sun.”
“Yes, and it went down last night. There’s no reason to think it won’t tonight.”
“Rachelle’s right,” my father said. “This could actually work. But I don’t think I can show myself around Barth.”
“As long as Vlad’s there, I think you’ll be safe.” It was a risk I had to take. “He’s after civil war, not just a few shots.”
The fact that my father didn’t object to the bit about civil war gave me some hope. Maybe he was seeing past his rage.
“Tonight,” I reiterated. “You go with me and stay out of sight until Vlad shows himself.”
“And when he does?”
“You come out. I need you to see what I have to show.”
He thought about it for a second, then gave me a curt nod. “Fine.”
The die was cast. And no one knew that I was blind except me.
31
I STOOD BY the large fountain alone, clicking to see. I’d rolled both of my sleeves up, baring my shoulders. Not that I thought showing Vlad the white and green seals on my arm would undermine him. But I wanted them all to see the luminescent glow of white and green circles. It brought me comfort.
Comfort, because everything I hoped to accomplish depended on my speculation that I’d be able to see the Book of History, just like I’d seen the page in the dungeons with Jacob. There was an energy about it that came with true sight.
&
nbsp; I’d spent the day alone in my room, away from anyone who might discover my blindness. Alone and wrestling with a bipolar swing of emotions—one minute resting in the memories of the light, the next settling into deep self-pity that blindness was part of my journey. And I could not shake my terrible fear, knowing that facing Vlad while blind would be no different from entering into my nightmare once again.
It was amazing how quickly I reverted to the world’s system of fear and control. Life happened in cycles of forgetting and re-membering, Talya said. I knew that intimately now.
My shirt was wet with sweat. I didn’t want to be there, standing alone. I hated the fact that I saw no other way.
As Linda and my father had planned, a group of twelve were stealthily setting up for the assault on the armory, adjacent to Barth’s house, north. Several of them were armed with guns, the rest with axes and machetes. Another half dozen continued the search for the children with Linda—a compromise she’d demanded and received. The rest were south, preparing to burn Hank’s house to the ground. A small sacrifice, he’d said.
I couldn’t stop the assault on the armory, but I could stop them from actually using those weapons if they got them.
My father was the key.
And I was the key to him.
He waited behind Bill’s Hardware—safe for now and close enough to hear my signal. It was seven o’clock. Had to be.
I swallowed deep, gathered my resolve, and stepped up onto the edge of the fountain pool, exactly where Vlad had stood to show us our false sky only yesterday.
“Vlad!” My voice echoed off the walls of the church. “Vlad Smith! Bring me the book!”
Nothing. But I had no illusions that he would just drop out of the sky. A small part of me thought he wouldn’t show at all.
“This is what you wanted!” I cried out, feeling desperation.
I waited with my feet planted on the wide edge, clicking into the darkness around me.
“Vlad!”
I heard the door to the church open and I turned, clicking. A form—one of Barth’s guards—stepped out carrying what had to be a machine gun in one hand and a crackling torch in the other. My mind flashed to Other Earth. Why a torch rather than a flashlight?
A second guard came out, carrying another torch. They walked down the steps to the edge of the lawn and planted the torches in the ground. The man on the right faced me.
“I don’t know what the deal is with you, but he said you’d be coming. He wanted torches when you arrived, so here you go. Torches.” Then he turned and walked back up the steps. Two more guards with torches had emerged and stood on either side of the door. I had an audience of four.
Then it was eight, because four more emerged, all armed, setting up a perimeter around the landing. Then nine, when a thick form I guessed to be Barth stepped out of the building and stood between his men, hands on his hips like a gunslinger.
Still no sign of Vlad. My palms were greasy.
I heard soft padding of feet as two residents tentatively stepped out of the darkness to my right. Then another, around the corner of the empty bakery.
Barth stepped up—maybe to set the new arrivals straight—when Vlad’s voice cut through the still night.
“It’s okay, my friend. It’ll do them good to watch.”
I twisted around, clicking. But I didn’t need to click because I could see the slight amber glow around his eyes. I hadn’t expected to see more than the book, if he presented it to me. But he, being something other than human from Other Earth, was visible to me.
As was the slight glow from under his jacket. The Book of History.
Vlad was leaning on one of two lamp poles that normally lit the courtyard. His legs were crossed and he looked to be distracted by his hands. Maybe his fingernails, I couldn’t tell because that part of him was only a blur.
He spat to one side, unfolded his legs, and lifted his head. A few more residents had braved the night to see what all the yelling was about.
Vlad had his audience. My father had his distraction.
“You’re early,” Vlad said, stepping closer to the fountain. “Things are just starting to heat up here. I would have figured tomorrow, but here you are. Which means one of two things.” He stopped between two torches and stared at me. “Either you’re bluffing, in which case you’re being rather stupid, or you’ve learned more than those two seals on your arm have shown you, in which case you’re being just as stupid. So which is it?”
Did he know I was blind?
“Now!” I cried. My voice carried, and I was sure my father had heard the simple signal we’d agreed on.
Vlad’s head turned toward the corner of the bakery. My father walked forward and stopped forty yards from us.
“I see.” Vlad sounded pleased, which concerned me a little. “A family affair, is it?” His head swiveled back to me. “By now you know that the Book of History has more power than any artifact imaginable on this plain. What you still don’t know is that you’re going to use that power for my gain.”
“I know the power of the book, but I also know who you are. And who I am.”
“As the Second Seal bears out,” he said. “And I cannot deny who I am.” He paused. “I’ve been doing this for five hundred years, my little peach cobbler. Do you think a few circles on the arm of the 49th Mystic will make me quake in my boots?”
A circle of onlookers was forming around us, but I blocked them out, because for all practical purposes, I wasn’t there. I was in Other Earth now, confronting what had to be a Shataiki who’d bred with a human to bring his darkness across dimensions.
Regardless of dimension, all darkness was only a shadow. So then I was facing a shadow. Shadows vanished in the light.
“Please,” he said, heading slowly toward me. “We’re way beyond mincing words. Best to just get it all out in the open. The morons who watch us won’t have a clue what to do with the truth. They’re too bound up in fear of the Shadow Man. Hmmm? Isn’t that what you call me?”
“I call you son of Teeleh.”
He stopped with my use of the name. “And I respectfully embrace my oneness with my master. We all have our roles to play. Play your hand, 49th, and I will play mine. At the end, we will see who’s standing.”
He peeled off his jacket. Folded it and draped it over the stone bench. I could still see the slight glow from the book in the seam pocket.
“You’re wondering why I’m not giving you the book,” he said. “Do you take me for a fool? Hmmm? I know you didn’t come to write what I need you to write. You’re leaning on the knowledge found in your dreams, but that won’t work here. After all, they’re only implanted dreams. None of them are real. Nevertheless, I will speak on your terms.”
The bit about my dreams being implanted was a lie for my father’s benefit. But I was still preoccupied with the jacket he’d set down. I hadn’t considered the possibility that he wouldn’t allow me to write.
Did he know that I intended to write my father rather than him into Other Earth? If so, my plan would die on its feet.
“The light you think you can defeat me with is far too weak,” he said. “You’re going to need the Third Seal at least, sweet peas. Unfortunately, half the town could be dead by then. They just can’t seem to stop themselves, can they?”
I tried to ignore my fear and think of a way to get that book.
“I’ve had plenty of time to practice waiting for you. And now here you are, playing into my hands.”
I faced him, letting the truth of what I had known in Other Earth well up inside of me like a storm.
“Inchristi is all.” I said it plainly, as simple fact. “Inchristi is in all.” His hands shook as I spoke the truth. “I am Inchristi.”
He moved like a striking cobra, crossing the ten paces between us in the space of half a breath. I’d come with no intention to fight—the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. And now he was a yard from my face, roaring with enough ferocity to sweep my hair back and
rattle my bones. The pungent scent of dirty socks laced with vanilla filled my nostrils, making me nauseous.
I frantically clicked and ducked instinctively, but not quickly enough to avoid his fist, which clipped the side of my cheek and snapped my head to the side. I staggered back and spun to find footing on the narrow fountain wall, but there was none.
Yielding to my fighting instincts, I dived high, tucked my head under, landed on my right shoulder, and rolled to my feet. I could sense him making adjustments. My momentum was forward, and he would anticipate my trajectory, so I planted my right foot in the grass and threw myself up and backward, over his head as his body rushed under me.
Halfway through my backflip, I twisted sharply to my left and brought both fists around to the side of his head. My club of flesh and bone landed with a crushing impact that threw me wildly off axis. I twisted my body and landed on the ground, both feet firmly planted, facing him as he whirled back to me.
None of the onlookers or guards moved.
If my blow bothered Vlad, he’d fully recovered. He stood ten paces from me, looking amused. “Nice. But as you can see, in the end your pathetic words are powerless.”
“Inchristi is all,” I said again. “Inchristi is in all.”
“That’s all you have? I’ve faced far worse.” But his voice was slightly strained.
“Inchristi is all!” Worry nipped at me. “Inchristi is in all.”
“You think the power is in a few words?” This time they had no effect on him. “That I dread the path of shamans and faith healers? It’s not about words. It’s about the heart. Clearly, yours is still as black as mine.”
My unease was descending into a full-blown panic.
A soft whump filled the air to the south—they’d set fire to the house. But it was too early!
I fisted my hands at my sides and hurled the words at him. “Inchristi is all; Inchristi is in all!” Then again, screaming them now.
“Now you’re just wasting my time,” I heard Vlad growl. He moved so quickly this time, and I was so distracted by my failure, that I hardly noticed him coming. I only remember a terrible blow to the side of my head.
I dropped like a rock with the cries of “Fire!” and “Rachelle!” echoing through my head. My father was yelling my name.
