Worlds Without End: Aftermath (Book 2)

by Shaun Messick

  “Jake!” shrieked Celeste. She cringed after hearing the crack of his back against the stone steps that led to the upper room.

  Turning back toward Vlamer, she launched herself into the air, catching Vlamer at the waist and tackling him to the floor. Vlamer struggled to keep Celeste from pinning him to the floor, but Celeste could tell that his telekinetic abilities were weakened from the concentration of levitating his body into the air.

  Celeste managed to gain the advantage on top of him, immobilizing his arms to the ground with her knees. She then let loose with a ferocious left hook across his face. Blood spattered onto the floor and onto the face of the unconscious soldier to her right.

  Vlamer turned back to face her, laughing, blood pouring from his nose and mouth. Celeste was taken back for a moment when she felt her body beginning to rise. Suddenly, Vlamer rapidly ascended his body to the ceiling of the room. Celeste tried to raise her arms above her head before the impact, but was too late. Her head hit the ceiling with such impact that she nearly blacked out. Vlamer, now free of Celeste, dropped to the floor and telekinetically caught himself before he made impact with the ground.

  Celeste, though, was not as fortunate. She crashed to the floor on top of the stone rubble from the fountain; the jagged edges of the stone cutting deep into her arms and hands. Again, she felt her body rising as Vlamer lifted her by the throat, beginning to crush her larynx as well. “Finally!” he seethed. “Let’s end this game and kill you now!”

  Celeste began to lose consciousness as Vlamer crushed her throat. Just before she resigned to her death, she thought she heard the buzz and crackle of a plasma sword whiz past her head. She dropped to the floor and watched as the sword ripped through Vlamer’s chest, pinning him to the wall.

  She heard someone calling her name, but she didn’t know who it was. It sounded like she was under water. Just before she passed into unconsciousness, she saw the blurred image of Skip kneeling down before her.

  CHAPTER 12

  Earth Time: 5 days later, July 19, 2042 – Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center . . .

  Lieutenant Colonel Christopher Peterson walked in silence down the dimly lit, long corridor of the Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center. It had been thirteen days since he and his team had successfully rescued Adrian Palmer and his family. As he continued down the corridor, he wondered again why his superiors had ordered him and his team to conduct such a rescue mission for a man they didn’t even know. He neared the end of the corridor, turned left, and walked into the infirmary. Seven patients were confined to the infirmary; all but six had minor injuries or broken bones. The one in critical condition lay in a bed at the end of the infirmary, connected to life support machines and hidden behind curtains. Adrian Palmer had been in a coma and near death for thirteen days now.

  Chris walked past two nurses and the only doctor in the facility, on his way to the patient’s bed, nodding to each one. He pulled open the curtain and met the sullen eyes of Kevin Palmer, who sat in a leather recliner next to the bed. His children sat on the other side of the bed. They too were distraught. Kevin stood and took a few steps toward him, reaching out his hand.

  Chris shook Kevin’s hand, with Kevin placing his free hand on his shoulder. “Colonel Peterson … again, thank you so much. We are forever indebted to you and your team.”

  Lt. Col. Peterson nodded. “You’re welcome, sir. We were just doing our duty.”

  Kevin shook his head. “No,” he said, choking back the tears. “Y-you saved our lives. My children are still here because of you.”

  Chris smiled and nodded again. He then looked at Adrian, lying on the bed. A breathing tube provided him with the needed oxygen to keep him alive, and sensors monitored his pulse and other vitals. Looking at the monitor, he noticed that Adrian’s pulse was very weak. “How’s he doing?”

  Kevin turned and walked to his brother and grabbed his hand. “The doctor doesn’t think that he will make it through the night.”

  Chris lowered his eyes to the floor and shook his head. He didn’t want to tell Kevin or his children, but Adrian Palmer was the primary person whom he and his team were to extract. Kevin and his children were secondary. If Adrian died, then Chris knew that his mission was a failure.

  “Why did you come for us, anyway?” Kevin asked.

  “It was—”

  Before he could get the words out, a man opened the curtains and walked in. It was President Joseph Thompson. The president, this time, was dressed in a navy blue pinstriped suit with a white shirt and a red tie. He ran his hand through his thick head of gray hair. His brown eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.

  Lt. Colonel Peterson stood at attention and saluted.

  The president returned a half-hearted smile. “At ease, Colonel,” he said as he extended his right hand. “I know I’ve told you before, but job well done, Colonel.”

  Chris extended his hand. “Thank you, sir. I was just following orders.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Colonel. What you and your team did against over a hundred of these aliens is miraculous.”

  Chris didn’t respond. He just gave the president a tepid smile and nodded his head.

  “Joe,” Kevin interjected as he extended his hand toward the Senator. “So you’re the one who gave the order.”

  The president extended his own hand and the two men shook hands, which then turned into a hug. “Yes, and I am sorry I have been keeping you in the dark these past thirteen days.”

  With tears beginning to well in his eyes, Kevin whispered into Joseph’s ear, “I can’t thank you enough, Joe.”

  Chris then stepped aside, giving Kevin and the president some room. “You two know each other, then?”

  The two men separated, and Joe patted Kevin on the shoulders, grinning from ear to ear with tears glistening in his eyes as well. “Kevin and I have known each other for a long time.”

  It made sense. After all, why wouldn’t a multi-billionaire know a United States Senator?

  Kevin turned and looked at Chris. “We roomed together at college.”

  Chris nodded, but didn’t respond.

  Kevin then looked at his two children, who had now made their way around their uncle’s bed to stand next to their father. “Kids, I want you to meet Senator, or should I say, President Joseph Thompson.”

  Ashley and Adam both extended their hands and shook the president’s hand.

  After the introductions, Kevin turned back to the president. “I just have one question, Joe? Why would you risk what’s left of your military to rescue us?”

  Joseph took a few steps toward the bed where Adrian Palmer lay, clinging to life. “Before I give you an answer, Kevin, we need to make sure Adrian survives. He needs to know the reason I ordered his rescue as well. We need to get him to Scott Air Force Base near St. Louis immediately.”

  “Scott Air Force Base?” Kevin questioned.

  “Yes, there’s a man there who can help him.”

  * * * * *

  White House. Washington D.C., Earth . . .

  Dorange checked his gear one more time as he made his way out of the White House and to his transport. Everything was in place around his belt: his sidearm, dagger, medical kit, and most importantly, a weapon given to him by Koroan – a sword that attracted plasma and electrical energy from the surrounding environment. The sword was off and tucked away neatly in its sheath on his belt.

  He stepped onto the back lawn of the White House, meeting his colonel, Leonidis Ubel. “How many destroyers are at our disposal?” Dorange asked.

  Colonel Ubel, with a sense of trepidation responded, “Not many, sir. I was able to recall five from around the planet. They should arrive shortly to the rendezvous point. That would give us seven in all. We have nearly thirty-seven fighters that will escort the destroyers.”

  “What about ground troops?”

  “I’ve managed to get two shuttles ready with about one hundred troops each. But, sir. We can’t recall every Gnol sol
dier on Earth back to the rendezvous point. They are busy with other rebellions that are beginning to crop up all over the world. We are spread too thin.”

  Dorange knew that Colonel Ubel was right. After all, he had expressed the same concern to Koroan just before he had left for Terrest. But he didn’t want his colonel to know his doubts. “The fighters and destroyers alone should be enough to squash this little insurrection.”

  Ubel nodded his head in agreement as they both made their way to the transport; its engines humming loudly. Dorange stepped up onto the transport and turned around. “You’re in charge, Colonel, until I get back!”

  Colonel Ubel stood at attention, crossed his right arm across his chest, and bowed his head.

  Dorange then turned to the pilot before taking his seat. “Let’s go, Lieutenant! It’s time to show these humans who their true god is.”

  * * * * *

  En route to Scott Air Force Base near St. Louis, Missouri . . .

  Kevin sat in the UH-60 Black Hawk; its blades pounded through the night air.

  “We will be landing shortly, sir.”

  Kevin looked up at Lt. Colonel Christopher Peterson, who sat between Sergeant Miguel Lopez and Sergeant Drew Rice, across from him and his two children. “I told you, Christopher, you don’t need to call me ‘sir.’”

  “No, from the stories I’ve heard about you and your brother, I definitely need to call you ‘sir,’” Chris replied, nodding his head to the back of the chopper where Adrian was secure on a stretcher with his life support systems still attached and a medic seated next to him, monitoring his vitals.

  Kevin gave the Lieutenant Colonel a slight smile and nodded his approval. The large UH-60 began its descent toward a landing pad in the middle of what looked like a small Air Force base. Kevin looked around. There seemed to be several hundred soldiers milling about amongst the handful of F-81 Tigers, F-22 Raptors, two tanks, and one anti-aircraft missile battery. Not much of a defense, he thought.

  After the Black Hawk landed, Lt. Colonel Peterson’s team stepped off first, followed by Kevin and his family. A man who looked to be in his mid-forties with large muscular arms met them. He had on battle-stained military fatigues. Lt. Colonel Peterson saluted. The man returned the salute. “Good job, Peterson.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Christopher replied. He then turned to Kevin. “Kevin, this is Colonel Justin Belnap. He is the commanding officer of this base.”

  Colonel Belnap approached him, reaching his hand out. “Kevin Palmer. It is good to finally meet you.”

  Kevin returned the colonel’s handshake, but before he could respond, Colonel Belnap ordered the medic who had been monitoring Adrian and a team of soldiers to take Adrian away to another location on the base. Then Kevin and his family were whisked the opposite way by another team of soldiers.

  * * * * *

  Adrian gasped for air and his eyes popped open. He lay on a stretcher, I.V.’s attached to his arms, as well as medical sensors. A surge of energy pulsated through him as he sat up, pulling out the I.V.s and the sensors off of his bare chest and head.

  Once his eyes adjusted, he noticed that he was in a dimly lit room with a conference table in the middle. Across from him rested a large wall-mounted computer screen. And below that, at the far end of the conference table, sat a man dressed in a pinstripe suit. The man looked like he was in his mid-thirties with a full head of dark hair. His body was strong and fit. Despite his intimidating presence, there was something peaceful about him. The man looked up, his brown eyes meeting Adrian’s. In an instant, Adrian felt at peace, almost as if he was in the presence of someone great.

  The man smiled and patted the seat next to him and waved Adrian over. “Come. Come, Adrian. Have a seat so we can talk, and all of your questions will be answered.”

  Adrian lowered himself from the stretcher, his bare feet landing on the carpeted floor. He grabbed at each end of the hospital gown, trying to cover his naked body. Embarrassed, he noticed a black robe resting at the end of the stretcher. He quickly grabbed it and put it on. Then, he slowly made his way toward the man, who was still smiling at him. Once he reached the seat next to the man, he sat down.

  “Adrian Palmer, it is finally so good to meet you. I know a lot about you.”

  Again, Adrian’s mind was in a whirlwind. The last thing he remembered was being tortured by Koroan Chast. “I-I’m sorry … but have we met?”

  The man gave Adrian a warm smile and chuckled. “No, Adrian, we haven’t met. But I have met your brother and have been following your adventures, so to speak, on Terrest.”

  Adrian was dumbfounded, and the man sitting before him came across as somewhat amused at his bewilderment. “Terrest? How do you know what I have been doing on Terrest?”

  Once more, the man laughed. “Before I begin, Adrian, let me tell you my name. That will answer a lot of your questions.”

  Adrian nodded, waiting for the man to give him his name. The man waited a few more seconds, again enjoying the moment. “My name is John.” And then he paused again.

  “O-okay. I know a lot of Johns. So how does that help answer my questions?”

  John leaned on the table, a little closer toward Adrian. The cheerfulness in his expression turned to one of reverence. “You know me, Adrian, as John of Patmos,” he said. He then leaned back in his chair, his joyful disposition returning. “You know, John the Beloved. Peter, James, and the one and only John. Author of the Book of John, Revelation, yada yada yada.” He stopped. The smile was still on his face as he looked at Adrian, letting the words sink in.

  Adrian caught his mouth gaping open. He was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. Could this be true? he thought. Yet, something about the man, his entire aura, his character, screamed to Adrian that what this man was telling him was indeed the truth.

  John waved his hand back and forth. “I know. The shock of what I just told you takes a little while to wear off.”

  Adrian chuckled nervously. He couldn’t believe he was sitting face-to-face with one of Jesus Christ’s original apostles. He managed to choke out a sentence. “Y-you are the same John written about in the Book of John, chapter twenty-one, verse twenty-three.”

  John’s face lit up. “Hey, you know my work. And the part where our Savior promised that I wouldn’t die until he returned.”

  Again, Adrian let out a nervous laugh. He didn’t know what to make of this. He figured John the Beloved, an original apostle of Jesus Christ, would have a little more serious temperament. But this John was amusing, cheerful, and almost too lighthearted.

  John seemed to read his mind. “Don’t be too concerned, Adrian. This is my sunny side. I don’t like to focus too much on the gloom and doom. I did all of that when I wrote the Book of Revelation.”

  This time Adrian began to laugh. He wasn’t nervous anymore. He was at ease – at peace for the first time in a long time in the presence of the two thousand-year-old John. The men both laughed, a deep belly laugh. After a few minutes, Adrian regained his composure. “Well, this is certainly an honor, Mr. … uh, John.”

  “Boy, it is just good to laugh like that sometimes, isn’t it?” John continued. “And no, it’s just John. We didn’t have fancy last names two thousand years ago like they do now. … Come to think of it, that was confusing for a lot of us back then. Too many Johns and Peters.”

  Both men laughed hysterically once again. After a few more minutes, they calmed down. John then leaned on the table, closer to Adrian. “In all seriousness, though, you are here because I ordered your rescue. I, with the Lord’s will, healed you. The Lord commanded me that you should be rescued. If Koroan Chast was to kill you, everything would be lost.”

  “Lost? I don’t understand. What would be lost?”

  “The plan, Adrian. All our Savior suffered for, the atonement; it all would be lost.”

  “B-but how? That can’t be. The Atonement of our Savior was universal, allowing for the resurrection of all mankind and that we would be saved in the
Kingdom of God, if we repent.”

  John nodded in agreement, “Yes, that is true. But something has happened. A possible turn of events that He had foreseen. He could have used divine intervention to prevent it from happening. Yet, because of the gift of free will He gave us, He had to let it happen. You see, Adrian, God doesn’t write the story for us. We do. Mankind. We are the architects of our own future. We determine our destiny and the destiny of the galaxy and the universe. It is ultimately up to us, as human beings, if we want to obtain what God has.”

  Adrian shook his head. “No, that can’t be. God is omnipotent. He knows past, present, and future. You even wrote it in Revelation. God wins. Jesus comes back. Satan is bound for one thousand years.”

  John’s face grew very concerned. “Yes, I know. But Lucifer will fight until the very end, Adrian, and he’s good at it. I’ve had a lot of run-ins with him and his minions in these two thousand years. The age-old battle for the souls of men is still being waged.”

  “I understand that, but how can Lucifer win? He can’t reach exaltation. He and his angels weren’t given the privilege of having bodies because of their rebellion.”

  “I know, but Lucifer is cunning. He has discovered something, an ancient secret so dark and powerful it could actually lead to his own ascension to godhood.”

  Adrian sat back. His stomach felt as if someone had just used it as a punching bag. He could taste bile coming up to his mouth. He was nauseous, and he felt the color leave his face. No, it can’t be, he thought.

  John continued. “God has given man one of the greatest gifts a Creator could give: agency, Adrian. God could very well intervene and prevent this from happening. However, if He did, then He would cease to be God because He would take away the consequences of our own actions. On the other hand, Satan has used the free agency of man to his own benefit for millennia. He has used it and twisted it. Something happened when you and your crew went through that wormhole. Something changed.”