“Actually, I have learned some things from my encounter with the Benefactor and also from probing Sarah’s mind. I’ve been trying to make sense of it; trying to work it out somehow. The best that I can figure is that he’s the focal point for some kind of coordinated effort to bring catastrophic misery and suffering to all of humanity.”
“Why?” asked Anston. “And who is he?”
“The Benefactor, Mr. Cox or whatever you want to call him. He’s the person Sarah talks about and is so afraid of. I don’t know much about him except that he’s vile and extraordinarily powerful.”
“Well, tell me whatever else you know,” said Anston.
“It’s hard to put into words. When I confronted him in my mind, I sensed a massive network of energy he uses to connect to his followers. He reaches out through the infinite space that exists in the universe of thought and sends them commands.”
“How big is this network?”
“It’s virtually endless and made up of a mass of kinetic conduits that vary in diameter. I think the size of the conduit directly relates to the importance of the disciple on the other end of it.”
“Mind control? So these people he is connected to have no free will?”
“I’m not sure,” said Zach. “I suspect they were predisposed to accept his influence in the first place.”
“To what end?” Anston shrugged in frustration. “What is it he hopes to gain?”
Zach paused as he contemplated the question. “I don’t know, but for him, it’s all about despair. He thrives on it—craves it. I don’t understand everything, but I know he wants to bring as much misery into the world as he possibly can.”
“And the bombs? Was he responsible?”
Zach nodded. “I believe he was. And worse, he has several others he intends to explode. First the Muslims, then the Hindus and next will be the Christians. His goal is to bring the world to its knees. He’ll step forward and offer salvation—but at a terrible price. The new world order will make the Nazis look charitable.”
“Can you defeat him?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. I’ve only experienced a fraction of his power.” There was a momentary silence and then Zach’s attention was drawn to the sound of the lock tumbler. The door creaked open slowly, and Hefe appeared, a crooked smile spread across his ravaged face.
“Good morning, friends. Hefe hopes you sleep good. There is a nice hot breakfast for you downstairs.”
“Why were we locked in here?” said Zach. “We’ve come to see the Benefactor, nothing more. You’ve been keeping us here against our will.”
Hefe waved his hand dismissively. “You want to see the Benefactor, but he don’t look for you. You don’t got an appointment. He is a very busy man, but he will see you soon. Now follow me.”
They walked through the deserted hallway as the ancient floorboards creaked, telling their tales of horror and woe. Hefe led the way down the rickety stairs into a maze of turns that abruptly ended in front of a pair of warped double doors. With a shove of his short arms, the small man pushed them open and stepped inside, inviting his guests to follow.
Zach looked around; he imagined he was in an old ballroom of some sort. The ceiling was high and tiled in a mosaic of Native American figures engaged in rituals involving the different forces of nature. The walls had thick layers of crown molding and chair railing, an indication of wealth and affluence from a long forgotten era.
In the center of the room, a table and three chairs were assembled to accommodate the guests. “Please, sit,” said Hefe. “The best food for friends of the Benefactor. Pomegranates, cantaloupe, eggs, toast and other good things.” Hefe looked at the food and swallowed hard. Often dining on jerky and weak cactus soup, Hefe could only dream of partaking in the feast laid out before these blasphemers.
Zach led Sarah over to the table with Anston following along. Despite his disgust at the thought of eating the madman’s food, Zach and Jarad had survived on nothing but snacks for several days. He glanced over at Anston, who looked greedily at the tempting buffet. Only Sarah seemed disinterested, and she slumped down into a chair and folded her hands on the table. She had shown no interest in eating for some time.
Zach grabbed a plate and scooped up some scrambled eggs and took a piece of buttered toast. He also brought a plate back to Sarah. Sitting around the table, Anston ate cautiously while Zach tried in vain to persuade Sarah to take a bite. She sipped some orange juice but otherwise would not eat.
As Zach picked up a piece of bread and offered it to her, their eyes locked for a brief moment, but Sarah looked past him with a chilling horror. “He’s here,” she said, “and he is angry.”
Zach opened his mouth to speak just as the wave of dark, aggressive energy crashed hard into him.
Thrust into a cold blackness, Zach struggled to regain his senses. He reached out into what appeared to be unbounded blackness. There was a heavy dampness that clung to his skin like layers of sweat and dirt. The smell was familiar, like he was awash once again in raw sewage.
A whistling noise grew louder and then passed through the side of his head as though it was comprised of matter rather than energy. He stumbled backwards, tumbling through the blackness before falling hard onto a slab that was cold and smooth like frozen ice.
Gathering his senses, Zach rose unsteadily to his feet. When his eyes finally focused, the pale figure of Mr. Cox stood before him, a picture of rage though the sardonic smile and gleaming teeth, which belied true intent.
There were no words spoken between the two; communication would only occur in the realm of cognition.
A thought pierced Zach’s mind, accompanied by a jagged tearing sensation. Why have you come here? What are you? How can you… know me?
Zach held the side of his head as he looked out through the blackness at the stark white figure. I’m just a man. I don’t know how I came to possess these skills. I’m here because I’m aware of what you’re doing, and I have come in hope of persuading you to stop.
The Benefactor paced from side to side. And just what is it that you believe I am trying to accomplish?
You want chaos and pain. I don’t understand why, nor do I know where your power comes from. But during our last encounter, I felt the tendrils you use to control the actions of your minions. Some follow you freely; others have no choice. But all contribute to an effort to disrupt individual lives and society in general.
There was a pause as the Benefactor contemplated. You are dangerous, a rogue element, something unaccounted for. I somehow… know you. Yet, I cannot recall from where. I am incapable of forgetting even minute details, but I can’t remember who you are.
Can we discuss your aims and what you hope to achieve?
I see no reason to share anything with you. You did not come of your own free will. I summoned you because you caused some minor disruptions in the flow. It is unacceptable, and it must be corrected. Still, I am puzzled as to your existence and why I can’t recall exactly who you are.
Are you responsible for the nuclear explosions?
The Benefactor eyes blazed with satisfaction. I will not disclose my plans to anyone. Instead, I want to know more about you. I need to discover the origin of your abilities. Your existence implies that there may be others like you, or at the very least, the possibility that another could emerge. Your cooperation is essential since I must find out the source of your power.
Where is the next bomb located?
Quiet, I must understand you. Don’t fight against this. It will only make it much more painful.
Zach sensed a gentle probing action in his frontal lobes. He shielded his memories and motivations and launched his own mental probe.
The response was instantaneous. A searing pain ripped through his brain, full of the dark force and power of the Benefactor. It was a different type of energy than what Zach projected, crackling with intensity, desperation and a level of despair Zach had never experienced. Like a drill bit boring through
his synaptic pathways, it shredded his most cherished memories while strands snaked out and highlighted his most painful recollections. A slideshow of horror swept through mind: snapshots of the ugly divorce, Mandy’s terrible knee injury, his brother’s death at the hands of a drunk driver. Zach’s repressed thoughts flashed forward as though they were happening in the moment, accompanied by the raw, fresh pain that had been buried by time.
The Benefactor burrowed deeper into Zach’s subconscious, eventually reaching the place where his most secretive memories resided. He moved through that portion of the cortex, pushing aside amusing but irrelevant information. There was something—something he must find. Almost at that exact moment, he came upon the cluster of neurons he needed.
Rarely surprised, the Benefactor gasped.
***
As Zach’s vision cleared, he was first aware of the horrible smell that assaulted his olfactory senses and saturated his entire respiratory system. He blinked and tried to clear his head of the thick fog that slowed his thoughts and made it difficult to reason. His mind was violated, and he struggled to understand what had happened.
“Welcome back, Mr. Randall. We all were worried that you might not, uh, have your wits about you, so to speak.” The Benefactor held his face just inches from Zach’s, and his ever-present grin widened. The source of the foul odor became painfully apparent.
Zach felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to face Anston. “Zach, are you all right? Do you know where you are?”
“I...” Zach stumbled for words. “What… happened?”
“I will tell you what happened. You attempted to resist me,” said the Benefactor. “You have unusual abilities, my friend. Similar to my own, but somehow different. Still, you are weaker and no match for me. In fact, you are no threat whatsoever.”
Slowly regaining his sense of awareness, Zach looked around at his new surroundings. He was no longer in the dining hall of the dilapidated hotel. This room was decorated with fine furniture and equipped with the latest technology, including a glass fronted server closet that housed a massive mainframe. As he looked again at Anston, he saw Sarah behind him. She was sitting in the center of a small cage, chained to one of the bars. The look in her eyes was empty and blank. She had emotionally withdrawn from this reality. Directly in front of Zach was a large conference table where a group of men and women sat stoically, staring at the captives with obvious malice.
“Ah, how impolite of me,” said Mr. Cox. “We have assembled a team of the most distinguished leaders in politics, religion and business from around the world. Seated to my right is our Director of Security, Mr. Delgado. To my left is our Director of Field Operations, Mr. Watts. Next to him is the Emir of Bukara. Then we have the President of the Global World Bank, the Chairman of the Federal Reserve, the Archbishop of the Greek Orthodox church, the President of the People’s Bank of China, then…” Mr. Cox paused and shook his head. “I could continue, but I think you get the idea. These are some the most influential people on the planet, and they have all pledged their loyalty to me.”
“I still don’t understand. What is it that you want?”
“What is it that I want? What is it that I… want?” A slight sneer formed on Cox’ lips. “I want—everything. I want the world to suffer as I did. I want to see humanity drop its pretentious conceit; its sickening façade of compassion and concern for the plight of the disadvantaged; the hypocritical words of empathy that hide the hope that some horror will plague one’s neighbor. You are all so disgusting with your false mask of kindness while you secretly revel in the misery of others. It is time your actions find harmony with your thoughts.”
“How have you accomplished this anarchy?”
Cox waved his hand expansively toward the seated conference participants. “Our success was a result of my genius. I provided the ideas, and my associates carried out the plan. It has been magnificent.”
“It would take an operation of extraordinary size to manage all of this. How large is your organization?”
“We are everywhere. In every country, every government, every religion. Our ranks grow each year by at least a million. In fact, you were invited to join us, Mr. Randall. Do you remember?”
Zach snapped his head around. “What do you mean? I would never join you.”
“Ahhh, but you almost did. I sensed a certain familiarity with you from the first time we encountered one another. I couldn’t quite place you, and it bothered me because I never forget a face. Yet you were different in so many ways. I needed to search through your mind for something that would remind me of who you are. And I did find it. You tried to commit suicide, did you not?”
“Yes… I did. How would you know that?”
“I remember because I was there. I am always there when they are ready to take their own lives. I provide an alternative, a chance for salvation. You were offered that chance, Mr. Randall. You were offered salvation and you declined.”
Zach looked into the eyes of the Benefactor. He searched his mind for any recollection of an earlier meeting. A spike of black light erupted in the back of his eyes and spread like greasy oil through his consciousness. Zach found himself living the final moments before he had tried to commit suicide. The pill bottle was in his left hand and he clenched a number of slick, round pills tightly in his right. Staring ahead blankly, Zach was flooded with the memories of the hopelessness that led him to this place. It was as if someone had ripped the scab off a deep and gaping wound.
He carefully placed the pills in his open mouth while reaching for a glass of Chivas Regal. As he raised the vessel to his lips, he saw a shadowy figure through the distorted curves of the crystal’s prism. Startled, he set the glass down and spit the pills back into his hand. Stepping from the shadows, something resembling a man appeared; his gleaming white teeth and pasty skin were immediately recognizable. Zach nodded as he recalled his first meeting with the Benefactor.
The scene faded and Zach was violently jolted back to the present. He focused on Mr. Cox, whose face remained inches from his own.
“I couldn’t place you and that bothered me immensely,” said the Benefactor. “It was irritating to me. But you—you are different. I made you an offer, do you remember?”
Zach nodded. “Yes, I do remember now. You were going to give me wealth and return my wife to me.”
“That is right. I would have given you those things and much more for your loyalty. But you declined my offer.”
Zach nodded once more.
“And that meant you had chosen to die. If they turn away from me, they must finish the suicide. I watched you take the pills and the alcohol; it was enough to kill three people.” Mr. Cox grabbed Zach by the shoulder and shook him. “You were supposed to die. Why are you still alive, Mr. Randall, and how did you acquire such capabilities?”
Zach struggled to break free of the Benefactor’s grasp. “I’m not sure what’s happened to me, and I don’t know why I survived since I was clinically dead. They told me at the hospital that for some unexplained reason my heart started to beat again even with the poison coursing through my system. When I regained consciousness, I realized I was different somehow. Sometime later that night the visions started. I don’t know how, but I forgot about you.”
Cox paced the floor. “Why are you able to see certain suicides? Since you see some, why can you not see them all? This cannot stand. You are a rogue that threatens everything we have worked for.” He turned to the participants around the conference table. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m open to suggestions. What should we do with them?”
“Kill the other two and dissect this one’s brain!” exclaimed Ziminski. “I have probes I can insert into his skull that will record his encephalographic activity while he’s still conscious. We can learn a great deal about him and inflict tremendous pain at the same time.”
Delgado folded his hands and tapped his forefingers together. “That is just violence for the sake of it, Alan. We must first extract the information
we need from them. How did they find us, and who else knows of our existence?”
“I agree,” said Xavier Watts. “We have a lower-level breach we are following up on in Seattle. I suspect these three may have been involved.
The Benefactor’s lip curled into a snarl. “Have you successfully apprehended the miscreant lawman?
“No. The Seattle police detective has, uh, evaded capture so far. I believe this one,” said Watts while pointing at Zach, “is responsible for our recent failures. We tracked these three from Washington through California. I put Thomas Abernathy, the Director of the Western region, in charge of apprehending them. And according to Alan, he fried Abernathy's brain.”
Mr. Cox stroked his chin thoughtfully as his eyes blazed. “I will deal with this later, but such a breakdown in security is unforgivable. Turning back to Zach he continued. “Still, I must admit your presence was impossible to prepare for, Mr. Randall. While your capabilities are different and less impressive than my own, your ability to manipulate behavior threatens the success of my plans.
Mr. Cox stood up and began to pace. “So, I offer you a second chance to join with me. Our combined power would be formidable. I will even spare the life of your friend and the whore.” The Benefactor gestured at Sarah. “You would experience wealth, prestige and power beyond your imagination. In fact, you could assume Mr. Watts’ position as my second in command.”
Watts’ back stiffened, and his eyes widened. Delgado could barely contain his glee.
“Well, Mr. Randall, it is time to make a decision. Will you join us in ruling the world, or do you choose to die? I promise you that if you choose death this time, I will make certain you succeed.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The conversation was interrupted as the church bells chimed 10 times. It was 10 a.m. in Chicago, and that left just one hour left before the next nuclear detonation. As the sound of the last bell faded, Munoz continued the interrogation of Cardinal Riggs. “Please elaborate,” he began. “Who is the Benefactor and where can we find him? Is he in the city?”
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