The Prophet: Birth: A Sci-Fi Thriller

by David Beers

  “Are you okay?” Christine asked, not wanting to take her arms from him.

  He nodded, his eyes only looking at the platform outside. “I’m fine. Go now. There isn’t much time.”

  Rebecca released her brother and Christine her leader. They stepped back, though David’s eyes were forward, not looking at either of them.

  Christine turned toward Rebecca, who only shook her head no. They could do nothing but follow his instructions.

  Rebecca turned first, Christine next, and the two left David alone at the bottom of the compound.

  David stood in place for long minutes, knowing that he was wasting time that he didn’t have.

  He could see the transports in his mind, and knew that within minutes he would see them with his eyes as well.

  Yet, he didn’t step outside onto the platform, because he didn’t know what he’d just felt. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, a power he hadn’t ever considered, because it simply wasn’t possible.

  Gray. That’s all he could see. The color of gray first building and then exploding. He didn’t know if there was death or destruction involved—he couldn’t see that.

  But the gray could only mean one thing.

  The Unformed. That which had been kept from Its rightful place, held outside this universe. The gray was Its color, the only true representation It had.

  And David had seen that color … with her.

  He didn’t understand. He didn’t know what it meant—and he didn’t know what had happened to Rhett.

  There was no time to dwell on it. Minutes. That’s all he had left, and whatever happened on the other side of the world would have to keep until after.

  KILL. HER.

  The words pushed into his consciousness, what the Unformed had told him … and he’d sent Rhett to bring her back. Had it been the right decision?

  There isn’t time, he thought. You deal with this attack, then her. You follow through with the choices you’ve already made.

  David took in a deep breath and then walked out onto the platform. It resided at the very bottom of the compound, wrapping around as the others did, though this one stretched further. A full 500 yards.

  David went to the edge of it, and looked over the side. There were no machines working down below, not this far out. There was only a rocky layer of earth. He looked up, the SkyLight still showing night.

  He pushed the gray he’d seen completely from his mind. He pushed the thoughts of the woman in the Old World away. He removed Rhett from his mind. It was time to serve and he could only do that with a singular focus. The rest of it, everyone in the compound above him, everyone who served him—they no longer mattered.

  His survival did, and thus, the survival of the Unformed.

  David looked forward at the exact moment the first transports appeared.

  A white speck on a dark background.

  He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, they were full of gray snow.

  Zoom in, Raylyn told the transport’s nanotech. After a few seconds, Further.

  The window in front of her zeroed in on the building before her—far off still—but now visible. It was a tall building, stretching deep below the Earth’s surface. They’d seen it in pictures during their research, but now … it felt ominous.

  “How did they build it?” Lynda asked from her side. “With no help. Out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  The Disciple said nothing, though even he leaned forward to get a better look.

  “There. You see that?” Raylyn asked.

  Lynda leaned in a little more.

  “Oh my God,” she said, fear rippling through her voice.

  Raylyn felt it too. Had she thought this was all some sort of game? Perhaps she hadn’t taken it that lightly, but she now realized the situation’s full gravity, and that she’d been naive. She thought the True Faith invincible. She thought Corinth would live forever. She thought the tales of the past, of the gray eyed woman named Rachel Veritros, were exaggerated. She thought that the informant, with their threats and hesitancy to share had only been trying to save themselves.

  Now, though, Raylyn understood the truth.

  Rachel Veritros had been real.

  The Unformed was real.

  And the fight was here, upon them, in the man they could now see.

  His eyes, full of flickering gray light, stared back, daring them to come.

  To be continued in The Prophet: Life

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