Cataclysm (Alternate Earth Series, Book One)

by S. J. West

  “Let’s get you cleaned up, too,” Mason says, coming to stand beside me. “Then we can come back.” Mason looks at Brand and Nina. “I assume the two of you have news to tell us about what you found at the sites you visited.”

  “We know a little bit more, but not much more than what we expected,” Brand admits. “We can discuss it when you return.”

  Mason nods, placing one hand on the small of my back before phasing us to our room.

  “I’m not sure the blood can be washed out of this leather,” I tell Mason as he helps me remove my jacket.

  “I don’t think it can be,” he agrees, tossing the now-ruined jacket into a wastebasket by the door.

  I strip out of the rest of my clothes and hop into the shower to rinse Jered’s blood off my skin. I take special care of the locket my father gave me for my birthday, making sure all of the blood is rinsed off it, inside and out. I’m thankful my dad thought ahead and had the pictures of Max and Brynlee etched in glass. It definitely made clean-up easier. As I gaze at my children’s faces, I kiss their pictures because that’s better than nothing.

  When I step back into the bedroom, Mason has already laid out the extra clothes I brought with me, on the bed. In hindsight, I realize I probably should have had JoJo make me a backup outfit. I file that idea away for later use. It might be a good idea for JoJo to make a few replacement outfits, actually.

  From what Gabe was able to show us about Caylin’s descendant, I knew the bloodlines of our families would eventually mix. The girl who is meant to deal with our princes of Hell was seen wearing one of my white outfits in the future. It makes sense that she might run into trouble and have something happen to the one she wears. When we get back home, I plan to ask JoJo to make a small number of extra outfits just to be on the safe side. As it is, I will just have to make do with the jeans, black t-shirt, and black leather ankle boots I have packed in my messenger bag.

  When we return to Brand’s living quarters, we find him cooking pancakes, making me realize it must be close to morning. Josh is beside him, frying up some sausage links. My tummy growls, letting me know that their efforts won’t go to waste. Rafe and Nina are sitting on the couch in the room, speaking to one another in low voices. From what I can hear, Rafe is telling Nina about his work with Doctors Without Borders in Sierra Leone. She seems truly interested in what he’s saying. Though, from the way she’s looking at him, it’s hard to tell if she is interested in his story or simply interested in Rafe himself.

  Malcolm is sitting at a freshly-cleaned dining table with Isaiah and Baruch. I notice Malcolm absently rub the thigh of his permanently injured leg as he speaks to them. I’ve witnessed him do that countless times over the past few years, and often wondered if he realizes he’s doing it. Even if my relationship with Lucifer wasn’t so strained, I knew he would never take Malcolm’s hellhound curse away just because I asked him to. I don’t have that kind of influence over him. Perhaps, one day, Lucifer and Malcolm can find a reason to put away their old grudges against one another. I highly doubt I will ever live long enough to see such a miracle take place, but I can still hope for the outcome to happen sometime in the future.

  “You look a hundred percent better,” Malcolm says to me as Mason and I walk into the room.

  “I feel it,” I admit. Even though I tried to act as though having Jered spew blood all over me wasn’t a big deal, it totally grossed me out. I would never willingly admit it to Malcolm, though. He would use it to tease me, and I would rather let him think I have a strong stomach than allow that to happen.

  “What did you guys find out at the sites you visited?” I ask Isaiah and Baruch as Mason and I sit down at the table with them.

  With the change of topic, Nina and Rafe end their conversation so they can join us at the table.

  “Well, we know one thing for sure,” Isaiah says, sitting back in his chair. “They’re definitely searching for something. Each of the places we went to ended up being a major dig site.”

  “Were you able to overhear or see anything that would indicate that they’re searching for the Ark of the Covenant?” Mason asks.

  “I wasn’t able to get very close to the dig site at Khirba en-Nahas,” Isaiah admits. “It was too well-guarded.”

  “By whom?” I ask.

  “It was a mix, really,” Isaiah says. “There were a few rebellion angels, and a scattering of fairies in their animal forms.”

  “That’s the way it was in the Great Rift Valley, too,” Nina adds.

  “Same at the Timna Valley location,” Baruch confirms.

  “I saw Malik at the Dome of the Rock,” Brand says as he brings over a plate stacked with buttery-smelling pancakes to the table.

  “Is Malik still king of the fairies in this reality?” I ask, remembering Brand mention it the last time we were here.

  “He was,” Brand tells me, “but he abdicated his right to the throne when he chose to marry a human.”

  “Is he married to someone named Tara here?” I ask, excited that I might get to meet an alternate version of my friend.

  “Yes,” Brand tells me. “They met on an archeological dig in Cairo about five years ago, and fell in love. They’ve been together ever since. Since they’re both world- renowned archeologists, it makes sense that Lucian is using them to do the excavations for him.”

  “Are they doing it willingly, or are they being forced into it?” I ask, hoping for the latter.

  “I’m sure they’re being forced into it,” Brand replies. “I knew Malik before the Tear appeared, and we always got along well with one another. I was sad when he decided to give up his leadership of the fairies, though. I don’t care for the person who replaced him.”

  “Who’s in control of the fairies now?” Mason asks warily, as if he might already know the answer to his own question.

  “Do you know a fairy named Izzi in your reality?” Brand asks, practically spitting out the woman’s name, as if it physically caused him pain to let it pass over his lips.

  “Yes,” Mason says, sounding disappointed by Brand’s answer. “A long time ago, she tried to kill your wife in our reality and was sent into exile for the crime.”

  “Really?” Brand says, intrigued by this new bit of information. “I’ve never had much reason to deal with her here. Why did she try to kill my wife?”

  “Jealousy, mostly,” Mason tells him. “By the way you just said her name, I have to assume she’s not exactly a friend of yours.”

  “No. She chose to take Lucian’s side when the Watchers took over the world. I haven’t had any reason to speak with her since.”

  “Is there any way we can speak with Malik or Tara?” I ask. “If they’re anything like the ones on our world, they’ll help us.”

  “I’ll see what I can do to arrange a meeting with them,” Brand promises. “It’s going to be a little tricky getting a message to them, though. I’m hoping Malcolm…I mean Xavier… might be able to help us with that.”

  “Have you been able to ask Xavier what he knows about the dig sites?” Malcolm asks.

  “I sent a message, but haven’t heard back from him yet. I don’t think he knows the sites exist. He hasn’t mentioned them to us. He’s been trying to find out more information about Project T-7, but hasn’t had much luck. It wouldn’t surprise me if even the people working the sites haven’t been told what it is they’re searching for. We might get lucky, though, if we can talk to Malik or Tara. If my suspicion is correct, and they’re in charge of the excavations, Lucian may have told them what he wants them to find.”

  Josh brings over a platter of sausage before saying, “I’ll go get your other friends and let them know breakfast is ready.”

  “Thanks, Josh,” Brand replies, before taking his seat at the head of the table.

  After Josh leaves, and we’re all dishing food onto our plates, Brand tells me, “You know, I think Josh is sorry he didn’t pay more attention to Leah when she was living with us.”

  “Oh?”
I ask, finding this insight to this world’s version of Joshua amusing. “So he finally figured out what a catch she is?”

  “Something along those lines,” Brand says with a smile.

  “Well, she’s taken,” I inform him bluntly. “Our Joshua was a step ahead, and figured that out years ago.”

  “That’s basically what Leah told him. Josh will get over his regret in time. Maybe after this war is over, we can all strive for a more normal life.”

  “What about you?” I ask. “Any special lady in your life at the moment?”

  Brand hesitates before saying, “I don’t have time to pursue romantic interests. But I have to admit, after you told me about the life my counterpart on your world has, I became a bit envious of him. It would be nice to have the luxury of time to build a life with someone.”

  As I look into Brand’s eyes, I see a yearning there for a normal life; or, at least a life that might offer the chance at a love similar to the one our Brand and Lilly share. It makes me want to help him even more. Maybe if we can get this world’s destiny back on track, he will have the opportunity to share his life with someone.

  Jered and Sophia phase back into the room, which I find to be a bit curious. Not odd that they should return, but strange that they should come back together. I knew Sophia took Jered to his room, but I assumed she would have left him to his own devices afterwards. I couldn’t openly question the pair about what transpired between the time they left and the time they came back, not without unintentionally insinuating something awkward. I knew my curiosity would have to be satisfied later when I was able to speak with Jered in private. I didn’t fully trust Sophia. Even though she hadn’t really given me a reason not to, she hadn’t exactly given me a reason to trust her, either.

  Leah, JoJo, Gabe, Chandler, and Zack soon join us for breakfast, making the room almost feel homey to me. I knew for some people, the term ‘home’ meant the house they lived in. For me, my home was wherever my family was. Having so many of them in one room made the separation from my children almost tolerable. I kept in mind that one day I would be able to share the events of our story here with them as a grand adventure tale. There were sure to be things to happen that I would never tell the kids, but I crossed my fingers that our efforts in this reality would improve the lives of those we came to help.

  As we are cleaning up the dishes after breakfast, the door of Brand’s living quarters is unceremoniously thrown open to reveal a man I haven’t met yet. He is dressed simply in a blue jacket, jeans, boots, and knit cap.

  “Where’s Brand?” he asks urgently, breathing hard from what must have been a hard run.

  “What’s wrong, Timothy?” Brand asks, wiping his hands dry with a dishtowel as he walks out of the kitchen area to address the man.

  “There’s a werewolf at the entrance,” Timothy says in a rush. “Well, kind of. He was changing back into a man when I left.”

  “That has to be Tristan,” Jered says with certainty, filled with new-found hope.

  “But how did he find us?” I ask.

  “I think…” Jered begins, pausing to organize his thoughts. “I think when he’s in werewolf form, he’s able to sense me.”

  “But you’re not his father,” Brand says, looking confused. “I’ve heard of children being able to track where their parents are over long distances, but never anyone else.”

  “In the past couple of years, I’ve noticed a growing connection between the two of us,” Jered says, “but I didn’t believe it was strong enough for him to be able to sense me. In a way, I think he’s adopted me as his father figure. It’s the only explanation that I have.”

  “Whatever the reason,” I say, “let’s go get him.”

  Brand raises one arm in front of him. “Hold on to me, and I’ll phase us to the entrance.”

  Mason, Jered, and I do as Brand suggests. We end up standing on an abandoned subway platform. A layer of grime from years of neglect covers the concrete floor, and old, discarded trash and paper litter the corners and crevices. Sitting on the steps leading from this area up to the street above is a naked Tristan. He’s holding his head in his hands, trembling. Sophia phases in a few seconds after us, holding a green woolen blanket. I’m thankful she thought to grab it before coming. I didn’t even think about Tristan not having any clothes on after changing back into his human form.

  Sophia hands the blanket to Jered. “He’ll need this,” she tells him.

  “Thank you,” Jered replies, before rushing over to Tristan, unfolding the blanket as he goes.

  “You won’t need your guns,” Brand tells the two men pointing their sub-machine guns at Tristan from the bottom of the stairs.

  The men lower their weapons, and take a few steps back as we approach.

  Jered throws the blanket over Tristan’s shoulders. The action causes Tristan to lift his head and look up at Jered.

  “Thanks, Jered,” he says, pulling the edges of the blanket closer together to help close it in the front.

  Jered drops to one knee in front of Tristan.

  “Are you all right?” he asks, resting a comforting hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Did they hurt you?”

  Tristan shakes his head. “No. I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”

  I hear Jered sigh in relief. “I was worried. I didn’t know what they did to you after they took you out of the room.”

  “They took me down to the street outside the building, and let me go,” Tristan says, sounding confused by his release.

  “Why would they do that?” I ask, puzzled by the reasoning behind such an action.

  The high-pitched notes of a ring-tone practically bounce off the walls of the space we’re standing in. Brand reaches into the back pocket of his pants and pulls out his cellphone. I see a look of worry crease his forehead just before his eyes meet mine.

  “I think I know why they let him go,” Brand says, holding the screen of his phone in my direction.

  The message is from Xavier.

  Get out! They know where you are!

  “He led them straight to us,” Brand says.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It made perfect sense. If Tristan could find the place where Jered was being tortured, locating him here would be just as easy. I should have realized something was wrong when Ravan just ‘happened’ to be in the room waiting for us, and how she just offered Jered to us without much of a fight.

  “How long before they get here?” I ask.

  “Not long,” Brand says. “We need to evacuate the people in the tunnels, and get them somewhere safe.” Brand turns to Sophia. “Tell Nina to come here and to bring my sword with her. We’ll hold them off for as long as we can. Take everyone to the headquarters in Wieliczka. When you get there, tell Desmond what’s going on. His people can help us evacuate ours. Also, make sure Josh initiates the self-destruct program, so we can blow the tunnels when we’re ready. We don’t want them to get their hands on any of our information.”

  Sophia nods and immediately phases to put Brand’s plan into action.

  “If you and your son could help get your friends out,” Brand says to Jered, “it would be a great help.”

  “Of course,” Jered says, gently grabbing Tristan by the arm, and phasing him back to headquarters.

  “We need to go get our swords,” I tell Mason.

  “Both of you should go with the others to Wieliczka,” Brand tells us. “Nina and I can hold them off for a while. We’ll meet you later.”

  “Not on your life,” I tell him. “We came here to help, and it seems as though all we’ve done so far is cause you problems.”

  I grab hold of Mason’s arm, and he phases us to our room.

  “And that’s one of the reasons why I love you so much,” I tell him, quickly planting a kiss on his cheek before I retrieve my sword from its spot up against the wall on my side of the bed. “You knew no amount of arguing was going to keep me from helping.”

  “Of course I knew,” Mason replies, retrieving his ow
n sword from the chair in front of the bathroom. “I know you as well as I know myself. I wasn’t about to leave him and Nina to fight whatever Lucian is sending.”

  Mason and I quickly put our swords on. I also grab my plasma pistol and holster, fastening it around my thigh just in case I need it. When you fight against angels, a sword is handier for maiming. A plasma pistol works well against humans, but angels just shrug the damage off like it’s a slap on the wrist. As soon as we’re ready, Mason phases us back to Brand’s location. Unfortunately, the party has already started without us.

  Brand and Nina are fighting off ten rebellion angels. Apparently, Malcolm also decided to join the fray, and is in the midst of a battle against Baal. I almost feel left out of the fun, but then I see five more rebellion angels run down the cement stairs from the street level.

  Since I don’t have my outfit anymore, I have to change my fighting tactics a bit. In a situation such as this, I would have played up my ability to go invisible and use what we’ve dubbed a ‘ghosting’ technique, flashing in and out of visibility, to disorient my opponents. Nevertheless, I still have one ace up my sleeve, the ability to fly. Over the last few years, Michael and I have worked out a way for me to tap into his fighting strengths and tactics. Michael was commander of an elite fighting unit in Heaven, known as the Vanguard. His experiences greatly outweighed mine. I’m good on my own, but in a fight like this, a little extra help doesn’t hurt.

  I run straight towards the metal railing that divides the cement steps down the middle, pulling my flaming sword out of its sheath as I go. When I get close to the railing, I fly in the air and run along the top of the pole until I’m behind the new arrivals. I jump to the right where two of them are and take one by surprise, slicing his head off with one quick swing of my sword. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mason fighting the other three on the left side.

  My second opponent points his gun at me. Before he fires off a single shot, I fly into the air just as a ball of plasma leaves its barrel. I kick him hard enough underneath his chin to make him fall back on the stairs and slide to the bottom of them. I twirl the hilt of my sword in my hand, so the tip of the blade points downward, and fly to him before he’s able to recover from his disorientation. With one fluid motion, I stab him directly in the heart.