Great billows of smoke chased him up the elevator shaft. He was forced to exit through the subway, as more quakes on the surface had collapsed much of the Wagner Building.
Ascending the subway stairs, he was greeted by blue skies and the light of a bright, beautiful, cloudless morning.
Cresting the top of the stairs and out onto the sidewalk, he found the others there waiting for him. But they weren’t looking at him.
An enormous crowd had gathered, watching them. Quizzical expressions colored the spectators’ faces. Every age, every race, every working class, every walk of life was represented among those who looked at the long line of men and women who had emerged from the collapsing building they stood before.
Grant, Alex, Morgan, Payton, Fletcher, Daniel, Lisa, and over a dozen others stood side-by-side in a row, stunned at the sight of the sea of people before them.
The world had just changed in plain view of everyone there. It would never be the same again.
No one spoke, as both sides of this strange spectacle looked at the other in consternation.
Grant’s group certainly appeared the most bizarre, especially Grant himself. He was covered in soot and grime and blood, his clothes were torn, his hair was mussed, he looked as though he had drowned in sweat and tears.
He glanced down at the abominable object that rested on his finger and would never come off. His thoughts turned to his mother and his father. And to his sister, whom he knew would be awake soon.
And he thought of Hannah, as he looked back into the eyes of every person there. They seemed more interested in him than any of the others.
It was as if they were waiting. Watching, to see what he would do next.
From the corner of his eye he saw Alex surveying the crowd in front of them. She seemed like she expected it somehow. After a second, she turned to him, looked him in the face and, with a frown said, ‘‘You’re not gonna cry again, are ya?’’
Despite himself, despite everything, Grant grinned wide.
Then he laughed.
Out loud.
So hard his shoulders shook.
‘‘Help me!’’
Grant’s head snapped up, scanning the crowd. The others did the same.
‘‘Fear of falling,’’ Alex said, squinting, looking about. ‘‘I feel it . . . over there!’’ She pointed past the crowd.
The entire crowd turned to look as Grant and the rest did, and saw a woman dangling from a metal fire escape ledge, three stories off the ground, just one block away.
Grant felt Alex’s hand on his shoulder just then, but he didn’t look at her.
There was no need.
No need for any more words.
He was tired, emotionally spent, every muscle in his body ached.
He had absolutely nothing left.
‘‘Somebody please!’’ the woman screamed in the distance.
Grant set his jaw firmly in place.
Every person present watched and waited.
Waited for someone who would save the day.
‘‘I can’t reach!’’ the woman cried.
Grant let out a steadying breath.
He stepped forward.
‘‘Hold on,’’ he called out. ‘‘I’m coming.’’
EPILOGUE
Substation Omega Prime
The Secretum of Six
Ruling Council Inner Chamber
Far away and buried deep beneath the earth’s surface, the ruling body of the Secretum of Six scanned the latest report. Glances were exchanged, notes written on paper.
‘‘Substation L.A. is lost,’’ one of them said, ‘‘as is the Dominion Stone.’’
‘‘The Stone no longer matters,’’ Devlin replied at the head of the table. Today his accent of choice was a hard, German inflection. ‘‘Its absence serves our end goal. Everything is falling precisely into place, as we’ve always known it would.’’
‘‘Maximilian Borrows is dead,’’ offered another.
‘‘Also irrelevant,’’ a woman spoke up. ‘‘Another will be chosen. What matters is that we have what we have awaited for so long. The Bringer has come.’’
Devlin smiled and intoned in his booming deep voice, ‘‘The prophecy of Dominion is fulfilled. The one we have prepared for and awaited for thousands of years walks among us. Everything is unfolding as we know it must. And do not forget, we still have a great advantage.’’
‘‘What advantage?’’ the woman asked.
‘‘The wheels turn all around him,’’ Devlin replied. ‘‘Yet the Bringer does not see . . . does not know . . . what he will bring.’’
THE DOMINION TRILOGY
by Robin Parrish
continues . . .
BOOK II
Summer 2007
BOOK III
Summer 2008
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to . . .
My entire family for putting up with my insane work schedule. Special thanks to my wonderful, long-suffering wife Karen for enduring the ‘‘must write now’’ absences of your newlywed husband. We’re in this together, babe. Now and forever.
Ted Dekker for your friendship and all the great career advice.
My friends Todd, Tina, John, Laura, Dylan, Mary P., Steve, and Mary S. for all the prayers and encouragement. Thanks for not letting me give up.
All of the teachers, professors, and writing professionals who have, over the years, offered instruction and support.
My editor David Long and his magic pencil.
My brother Ross and his family, for always showing excitement and wanting to help.
Mom, for demonstrating faith, expressing love, and always letting me chase my dreams.
And my Father above, for proving to me time and again that everything is under your perfect control. You are so good to me.
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