The Reluctant Prophet_A Love Story

by Karl Morgan

  Zeke looked at his watch, which showed 12:04 p.m. He looked nervously at Steve and said, "It should start any second. Is everything in place?"

  Steve smiled and replied, "Don't worry, Zeke, I've taken care of everything." He looked around and then led Zeke to an open spot where no others could overhear him. "Zeke, why are you even here? This whole thing is about kidnapping you. You realize that, don't you?"

  "Steve, this is where I need to be. I want them to see me and come after me. They have to know I'm here."

  "Zeke, I really don't understand, but that's okay. I want to thank you again for helping my family. Frankly, I'm amazed that Tigre went for it."

  Zeke smiled and patted him on the arm. "For most of us, the thought of our death is an abstraction, Steve. That's why Tigre told me he could face his own death but couldn't live with anything happening to his family. I told him of two different futures, which were the only ones I could see. Either everybody dies here, or we make a big change."

  "It certainly was a big change," Steve agreed.

  "Steve, I want you to join them after this."

  "You mean, if I survive."

  "You will, Steve. You and I will meet again," Zeke replied.

  "God willing, Zeke." Steve pulled a balaclava out of its pouch and pulled the mask over his face. "Stay out of the line of fire. I'd hate to have given up my job at the FBI just so you can get killed here." He turned and ran toward his men, ordering them to put on their own face masks. The masks were Zeke's idea. If the men's faces were concealed, the attackers would not know which of the men were Tiburon’s moles. If anyone pulled off their balaclava, Steve and the top lieutenants in El Tigre's army would kill them. Only Nacho had not been let in on the plan. Steve had known he was a traitor for months, but it was Zeke's vision that finally convinced El Tigre.

  At exactly 12:15 p.m., the gunfire began. Nacho led the group behind the house, and radioed Steve to let him know what was happening. Dozens of men were breaching the wall while others laid down cover fire. Steve slipped around to the rear to monitor activity. He smiled when he saw Nacho take off his mask. Steve shot him three times in the back and then returned to the front just as the SUV and vans droved out into the open. The doors opened and dozens of men rushed out and attacked. Steve dived behind a barricade and squatted next to Zeke, who was out of breath and sweating. "I told you to get out of here, Zeke."

  "I guess it's too late to take your advice now," Zeke said through a forced smile. "You know what to do now."

  "Zeke, this is insane! Why don't you come with us?" he asked. Bullets bounced off the low wall and zinged over their heads.

  "They'll just keep killing people until they have me, Steve. Now order the retreat!"

  Steve patted Zeke on the head and pulled his radio from its clip. He pressed the talk button and shouted, "Retreat!" He rushed out from behind the barricade and toward an open side gate some fifty yards away. Zeke could see many other men running toward other escape routes under withering fire. He smiled when he noticed that Steve had left his machine gun on the ground next to him. Zeke pulled back the lever and stood up and started firing. Several men fell to the ground and soon the rest turned their attention to him. Zeke fell to the ground as hundreds of rounds blasted into the low wall. Zeke threw the weapon over the wall and sat quietly. The gunfire stopped. He could hear his breathing and the chatter among the soldiers nearby. "They won't kill me," he said out loud. "I'm the one they want." He heard a click and turned to see El Tiburon standing at the end of the wall with his pistols trained on him.

  "Mr. Thompson, I presume?" he asked. Zeke only nodded. "Are you armed?" He shook his head. "Okay, stand up and come with me. Move very slowly unless you want to die."

  Zeke stood and put his hands on top of his head and walked toward the man. He glanced around and saw sixty or more men watching him, including two Orientals. The North Koreans, he thought. A very thin man said, "Take off the vest, Senor Thompson." He complied. "Now lean on the wall so I can check you for weapons." After he was frisked, Paco said, "He's clean, patron."

  The big man laughed. "Before I turn you over to the Koreans, let me ask you something. Where is my dear friend El Tigre?"

  "I have no idea," Zeke replied.

  Tiburon walked up to him and slapped his across the face, causing Zeke to fall to the ground. "Be careful with your attitude, Zeke. I could kill you, you know."

  Colonel Park interjected, "Tiburon, that was not part of the deal."

  Tiburon pointed his pistols at the two Koreans. "I could kill you both as well." Park and Han backed away.

  Tiburon laughed again and pulled a cigar from his pocket and chewed on it. "Don't worry, my friends, I won't kill you. I just want Zeke to understand that I am a very serious man." He turned back to Zeke who had climbed to his feet and was rubbing his cheek. "Now, once again, where is El Tigre?"

  Zeke lowered his head and said, "Mr. Tiburon, I honestly do not know where he is. I saw him earlier today, but not for several hours. Please sir, you must know that he kidnapped me. I am his prisoner here. He is almost as important a man as you, sir."

  "What about the safe room, patron?" Paco asked.

  Tiburon considered that idea for a moment and replied, "That is a possibility, old friend. The only other option is that he ran away like a coward dog. I never imagined him to be that." He turned to the Koreans and said, "Mr. Park, you may take Zeke now. Your flight will leave the Guadalajara airport in five hours. Please take my car. One of my men will pick it up later."

  Park and Han bowed deeply. "Mr. Tiburon, you have been generous with your hospitality and honest in your word. Once the flight enters international airspace with Mr. Thompson safely inside, the money will be deposited into the account you requested."

  "Adios, my friends," Tiburon replied as Zeke was led down the lawn toward the white SUV. Tiburon turned to Paco and motioned for him to lead them to the safe room. "Finally, I will have my revenge on Jaime Ortiz Sanchez."

  Zeke and Park sat in the back while Han drove down the hill, away from the scene of the massacre. Halfway down, Park said something in Korean and Han pulled over and stopped. "Mr. Thompson, you should know you are going on a magical adventure. You will be working directly with our Dear Leader. With you to help guide him, the future of my country is indeed bright."

  "I doubt it. The first time I disagree with Kim, I'll be stuck in front of a wall and shot."

  "Don't disagree with him," Han mentioned.

  "If I tell him an unfortunate truth, he'll shoot me because he doesn't like it. If I make up a story to make him happy, he'll shoot me when it turns out to be a lie," Zeke noted.

  "You have to have faith that our Dear Leader will be fair," Park said.

  Zeke chuckled and then replied, "Now all three of us are living in Fantasyland."

  El Tiburon took ten of his best men down the staircase into the basement of the ranch. He told them to stand back with their guns ready in case El Tigre came out firing. The rest of the men were outside, putting the bodies of the dead into one of the trucks. They all knew the Judicial Police would arrive soon, once they were certain the shooting was over.

  Tiburon walked over to the metal door and knocked on it, saying, "Yoo hoo, is there anyone home?" His men laughed. He turned to the men and said, "Okay, I'm going to unlock and open the door. I will be behind the door in case he attacks so I don't have to worry about one of you shooting me too. Try not to kill the woman. I would like to give her a special treat." He smiled and the men chuckled in agreement. He put the secret key into the lock and turned it. Everyone could hear the tumblers click. He smiled, turned the handle and pulled the door open.

  The opening door closed the contact, detonating the first bomb, which exploded out the door in a ball of fire, incinerating everyone in the basement before they could react. A series of explosions rocked the house and blew debris and shards of glass out onto the men outside who ran for cover. The other buildings on the ranch exploded one after another until
nothing was left but piles of burning debris and dozens more dead men. The few left alive looked on the scene in horror, uncertain what to do now.

  The Koreans heard the blasts and raced the SUV back up the hill so they could see what happened. Dark clouds of black smoke rose into the sky over the ruined ranch. About two dozen men were standing on the lawn looking back at the carnage. After a minute, they headed away, trying to disappear into the woods. Han turned the SUV around and headed down the hill. At the point where the woods ended, a tall, pale man was standing in the road, leveling a rifle on them. "What do I do, Colonel?" Han asked.

  "Run him down, Han! This vehicle is armored."

  Untor pressed the trigger and a blast of white light shot toward them. It slammed into the front of the vehicle and exploded. The SUV rolled four times and landed back on its tires. Han was dead. One of the pistons from the engine had been launched by the blast and was lodged in his chest. Park pulled his pistol and jumped out of the vehicle and began to fire on the man. Untor fired again, blasting Park into hundreds of tiny pieces. Untor walked to the door that Park had left open and smiled at Zeke. "Come on out, Zeke. Let's talk," Untor said.

  "You're just going to shoot me, so why should I bother?" he replied.

  "I'm giving you the chance to stay alive a bit longer, Zeke. Maybe God will intervene and save you."

  Zeke unbuckled his seatbelt and slid across the seat. Untor backed away. Zeke climbed out and stood before the other man. "You've got all the cards, Untor. What do you want to talk about?"

  "You're the guy who knows the future, right?" Zeke only shrugged his shoulders. "What is my future, Ezekiel Thompson?"

  "You are going to die very soon," Zeke said.

  "You're going to kill me? With what?"

  "I didn't say that. When you try to kill Dave Brewster, you will die instead."

  "That's good to know. That proves that killing you is a good idea. Once you die, your planet will stay in blissful isolation forever. The Kalideans will never arrive, and I will be Supreme Leader of the Brotherhood again," Untor replied. "Maybe Dave will live, but he will never come to Earth Prime, and that is all I need."

  Zeke frowned and said, "So, as soon as you shoot me, you will have never been here to shoot me. Is that how it works?"

  "Time travel is a confusing thing, Zeke. I have to admit I get lost in the paradoxes from time to time. But your statement is true. I will have power again. Dave will be an accountant for the rest of his life. And you will be dead."

  "And if you don't kill me?"

  Untor laughed. "I hardly see that as an option, Zeke."

  A flash of white light shot through the air and struck Untor's rifle, cutting it in half. It turned white hot instantly and Untor screamed and tossed it to the ground. His clothes were singed and he was clenching his burned hands tightly. Bea Watson walked up to Untor with her blaster pointed at his head. "It looks like a viable option to me, Fola."

  "You damned bitch! I should have killed you at the restaurant yesterday. I knew you were a fraud," he screamed.

  "Give me one good reason not to end this now, Fola," she replied, her weapon a foot from his forehead. Before she could react, he used a knuckle to press a flashing red button on his transiting sleeve. A blast of white light knocked her to the ground. Untor was gone.

  Zeke rushed to her and knelt on the ground by her side and pulled her into his arms. "Are you okay, Bea? What just happened?"

  She smiled, kissed his cheek, and replied, "I'll be okay in a couple of minutes. Untor used that thing on his arm to send him back to San Diego."

  "Rence Rialto will shoot him dead there in two days," Zeke said.

  "Yeah, I know. Help me up to my feet, Zeke."

  When they were standing, Zeke said, "Can you hear the sirens?"

  She nodded and said, "And the helicopters too. The police will be here soon. I hope they have enough body bags. Zeke, we have to leave."

  "I know that, but how? I don't have any ID or a passport. You're from the future."

  She pulled her phone from her pocket and pressed a button. "Kally, I've got Zeke. I need an emergency wormhole to his bedroom. We are going to have hundreds of police here in a minute." She listened for a moment and then clicked the disconnect button. She held the phone straight out in front of her.

  "What's going on, Bea?"

  "Just wait a second and you'll see for yourself," she answered. She took his hand and held it. The first police vehicles were just turning off the main highway and heading toward them. The intersection was less than three miles away, so they would arrive soon. A black dot appeared to float in front of them. It was about the size of a quarter and shimmered in its blackness. It grew suddenly until it was seven feet in diameter. It hung there silently like an apparition. Zeke could feel the power of the thing.

  After another few seconds, the blackness faded until they could see his bedroom through the large circle. "What the hell is that?"

  Bea bent down and picked up Untor's rifle, handing one piece to Zeke. "We don't have time to talk now and we can't leave this evidence behind," she said. "Watch my feet. We will start on the left foot and just step through. Now, Zeke!" They stepped through the window and were now in his bedroom again. He turned to see the Mexican countryside and the exploded SUV. The circle shrank quickly until it had disappeared altogether. Zeke felt suddenly woozy and Bea helped him to sit on his bed. She sat next to him and held him up. "Zeke, that was a spatial wormhole that Kally projected. They take some getting used to."

  "No kidding. I thought I was going to throw up."

  "Are you okay, now?"

  "Yeah, I feel a lot better now."

  Bea took his head in her hands and kissed his lips. "This part of the adventure is now officially over."

  "What happens now?"

  "Can I stay for dinner?"

  "Mi casa es su casa," he replied.

  She kissed him again. "Zeke, after this, it will be a while until I see you again."

  "But I will see you again, right?"

  She laughed. "You're the prophet, not me, Zeke. What do you think?"

  In his mind, he saw her standing next to him. A thin veil covered her face. He was wearing a tuxedo. To his right, a pastor stood smiling. To the left, a crowd of people were seated and watching them. He had a ring in his hand and slipped it on her finger. "Yes, I will see you again, Bea Watson."

  "Good," she said. "But I think two other people want to see you more right now."

  "Huh?"

  She pointed toward the bedroom door, where Abe and Sarah stood in tears.

  Chapter 11

  Zeke woke and sat up on the bed, looking around at his surroundings. The room was small, but comfortable, certainly larger than his bedroom back home, but by inn standards, it was not much to look at. He walked over to the window and pulled aside the curtains to look down on the small city square across the street. Only a few cars moved past at this early hour. He could smell bacon frying at the small cafe two doors down through the open window, and his mouth began to water. He turned back to the small bathroom and turned on the hot water. Zeke sat on the toilet lid while the water heated up. He had been gone from home for six weeks already. After the events in Mexico, he lived in constant fear that others would come looking for him, so he vowed to travel around, never staying in one town for more than a few days. He pulled off his pajamas and stepped into the soothing heat of the shower.

  After finishing dressing, he walked over to the small table and opened his laptop. Bea had told him that his phone would provide hi-speed Internet access, and she had not been kidding. He hoped this phone from the future would also be untraceable, but he still kept on the move. He scanned through the contact list on the phone until he reached Bea's number. He sighed and thought about calling her. He set the device down and logged into his blog, which he had named "What's Next by Zeke." He pressed the button to start a new post and then sat and stared at the blank spot on the screen. Every day, he had posted something new
, but never bothered to find out later if his predictions had come true. Seven thousand people were now following his blog, but he never tried to know who they were or if they were really reading or just cross-linking to their own blogs. He typed:

  "Wednesday, November 12, 2014. Dow Jones Industrials will be up 110 points today so get your buy orders in early. Severe thunderstorms will flare across northern Mississippi and Alabama in the afternoon. A few tornado sightings will occur but no appreciable damage. Looking further out, a major earthquake and tsunami is coming, but the location is not yet clear. An airliner is going to crash this week, but casualties will be low. That's it for right now. Zeke."

  He pressed the post button and closed his laptop. He picked up his phone and sent a text to his father: "Dad, lottery money to arrive today. Don't spend it all in one place, and don't forget the Maui house. Love, Zeke." He stared at the screen. He had been in this inn already for five days. That was too long. Someone would find him here if he did not get out. A grumble in his stomach broke his concentration. He pressed the phone into his pocket and left the room in search of breakfast.

  Ten minutes later, he was sitting at his favorite booth at Bert's Diner. Where he sat, his back was to the wall and he had a clear view of the street outside. He had sat like this in different cities every day for the last six weeks, scanning for more North Koreans who would spirit him away. Now, he realized that he had spent too much time in this town. If they were looking for him, they would find him soon if he did not get out. His server, a pretty young blonde, set his omelet and sausage in front of him. "So, Zeke, how are you today?"

  "I'm good, Sally, how about you?"

  "As well as can be expected since I'm at work," she replied. "What do you do for a living, Zeke?"

  He considered this young woman with the long hair in a tight ponytail and no makeup. He figured she was between eighteen and twenty-two by her perfect complexion. A few freckles dotted her face and her large hazel eyes pulled him in. "I'm a blogger."