by David Beers
She turned away from the street and back to Nicki.
“Which means something brought you here. It brought me here for a reason, and I imagine it did the same for you, too.”
“What’s your reason?”
“Well, if this is purgatory, it’s to pay for my non-belief. Once I’ve paid, maybe I’ll be granted heaven.”
“What if it’s hell?” Nicki asked. “You’re perpetually kept from any human contact, forever? What if this is God’s punishment?”
Laurel shook her head. “I’ve thought about that, too, but I don’t think it adds up. Hell would mean I’d have some deep longing, or perhaps like you said, I’d go insane. But none of that’s happening. I think that I can’t talk with anyone, because without God’s presence, humanity loses all ability to have contact. I think this place is separate from God, and the Devil—or whatever you want to call that. This place is a waiting room, and God won’t venture into it. And without him here, there’s simply an inability to actually … communicate.” Laurel shook her head. “If you had told my former self any of this, I would have called you delusional.”
Nicki didn’t know how to respond. It all sounded like more nonsense, the same type of stuff the Church had peddled to her for years. She’d bought it all back then, but she wasn’t going to now. She didn’t care if she was lost in some other dimension, or if she simply sat inside her mind making all this up, she wasn’t going to start believing in bullshit anymore.
“What I really want to know,” Laurel said, “is why you’re here, though. I’ve been here for years without speaking to anyone, and now you’re here, on my yard. Something put me here, and something put you here, too. There’s a reason for it.”
Nicki shook her head. “I put myself here. Somehow.”
The woman laughed and turned around, her arms spread at her sides. “Look at this place. It’s separate from everything. No one puts themselves here.” She brought her arms down. “There’s a reason, even if you don’t want to believe it. The good thing is, all we have here is endless time. So tell me about what happened to you, and maybe we can figure out why you’re here … because you don’t belong, and I don’t think you’re supposed to stay here forever.”
Sixty-Eight
Rhett opened his eyes and blinked a few times. The sun was up, and as he swallowed, fire lit down his throat. Brief panic bloomed in his chest, his mind not understanding why he should feel such pain, and then …
Rhett groaned as the memory came back to him. Hanging in the air, gray strands wrapping around his neck, and David’s back to him.
He slowly sat up, and as he pushed his hands against the ground, a duller pain flared there. He paused and lifted his right palm up, remembering the searing burns from last night.
His hand was red, but not an open wound with puss leaking from it as it should have been.
David, he thought. He must have done something.
Rhett finished getting up, his head pounding as he did. He looked around the campsite and saw the other two still sleeping. Their hands looked red, too, but no serious burns. Their necks were just as bruised as his, though. If David had fixed their hands, he hadn’t done a thing for their throats.
Rhett turned and looked at the beach; he scanned the horizon, seeing no sign of David anywhere. His eyes detected something moving through the sky and flashed up to it.
Rhett stared for a few seconds, deciding it was a transport heading toward them.
He hadn’t thought about how they would get off the island; there hadn’t been any time from when Rebecca took the ship to when David strangled them all.
Rhett held no fear regarding the approaching transport, though. It was David’s, without a doubt. He’d summoned someone, his powers far greater than Rhett could imagine at this point.
He turned around, reaching up and gently rubbing his neck as he did. He looked down at the other two still sleeping. Had David also made them all sleep so long, or had it been his attack? Rhett didn’t know, and supposed it didn’t matter either.
What does matter to you, Rhett? Your savior nearly killed you. Does that matter?
Rhett pushed the thought from his head. It was useless, and he was too exhausted to argue with himself. David hadn’t killed him. Not any of them, including his traitor sister, nor the man who promised his life for another. They were all still alive.
“Hey,” Rhett said. A few seconds passed without the other two moving. He stepped closer, then louder, said, “Hey. Wake up you two.”
They stirred, opening their eyes.
“You’ve got to get up. I think someone is coming to get us.”
The two looked up at him lazily, and Rhett saw each of them remembering what happened last night. Reinheld’s face grew as pale as the puffy white clouds above. Christine only closed her eyes again, though not falling back asleep.
“Rhett.”
It was David speaking from behind. Rhett hadn’t heard him approaching. Neither had the two on the ground, both of their eyes looking past Rhett.
“Come to the shore with me,” David said.
He heard the Prophet moving now, stepping back through the sand without waiting for a response. Rhett looked at Christine, but her face showed nothing. Not fear nor love. After a second, she nodded, and the message was simple: Go.
Rhett closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
He turned from the two in front of him and walked down the beach, seeing David 20 feet ahead of him. David stopped once he reached the shore, and Rhett came up next to him a few seconds after.
“We’re leaving as soon as that transport arrives,” David said, not looking over, nor up in the sky. His eyes only stared out at the ocean. “We’re going to the Nile River, and from there, we’re going to create the Union.”
“Okay,” Rhett said, unsure of what else he could say. He swallowed, and his throat eagerly reminded him of what had happened the night before.
“Are you still with me, Rhett?” David asked.
Both grew quiet and the wind from the beach filled Rhett’s ears. He listened to the water crashing on the shore at a constant pace, but impossible to replicate.
A few seconds passed, and Rhett gave the only answer he could. “Of course, David.”
The Prophet nodded, then said, “I couldn’t kill her.”
Neither of them needed to say who he was talking about.
“I wanted to, and I thought I would, but in the end, I couldn’t. I’m going to leave it to the Unformed. After the Union, It can decide her fate the same as It will for all nonbelievers.”
Rhett found words, his hate for Rebecca unable to be contained. “You should have killed her, David. Or you should have let me do it.”
“Maybe, but it’s done now. She’s gone, and I’ll never see her again. The Union is going to occur in 24 hours, and then she will never matter again.”
Rhett shook his head, his neck protesting with each twist. “I don’t understand. I don’t get it at all.”
“She’s my sister. What else do you want me to say? It’s over now. If you’re with me, then we’re moving on. We’re going forward, because everything ends tomorrow. Everything we’ve worked for is here, just beyond nightfall.”
Rhett understood it was the closest to an apology he would ever hear from David for last night. Asking Rhett to continue on, to finish this--it was David’s apology, plea, and promise all rolled into one. It was David giving the highest honor he knew to give, the chance to finish what they began so long ago.
Rebecca would not see it, but Rhett and Christine would. That was the Prophet’s gift, and his apology.
“Okay,” Rhett said. “Okay, David.”
“Get the other two. Tell Christine I’ll speak to her once we’re on the ship.”
The transport had been flying for a few hours when David finally brought Christine to him. The transport could comfortably fit ten, but even the pilot had left David alone in the front. The ship was on autopilot, follo
wing the coordinates David had provided. The four people in the back were mostly quiet, everyone drifting in and out of sleep. The pilot was a follower of David’s, of course.
Everything was going according to plan. The Globe would fall soon, within the next few hours, and the Ministers inside would all die. David hadn’t voiced it to Rhett or Christine, but he obviously wanted the Ministers to personally pay for what they’d done to those two. Truthfully, he didn’t need to unleash anyone on the Globe. He could have simply restarted the Summoning, and that would have been enough. The Globe was personal for him, to punish those who hurt the people he loved.
Those same people now with large bruises across their necks, and palms that ached—though, they should be raw and bleeding.
You’re so benevolent, David. You healed the injuries that you created.
He’d called Rhett to him on the beach because he knew it would be the easier conversation. Now, it was time for the harder one. Because he couldn’t do what he did last night and not offer something to these two. They were all he had left, his last true connection with the human species.
Rebecca was gone and she would be forever. She might not be dead yet, but it was only a matter of time. The Unformed would finish her off shortly.
You won’t be around to see it, he thought.
And that felt true. More so with each passing night. David was doing his absolute best to keep those around him from seeing it, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could manage to keep them from knowing. The strain on him was tremendous, his power constantly being drained. Flowing to the One Path, where the madmen and women used it to kill and conquer.
The Union had to happen quickly, or it would not happen at all.
Last night, after making sure the three would sleep until the sun rose, David had forced everything from his mind and tried calculating how much longer he could keep this up. Before, the power had always been endless, something that flowed from the Unformed whenever David called upon it. Now, though, it still flowed from the Unformed, but David was not the end goal. He was a conduit, and with each molecule of gray light that flowed through him, it stole part of him, too. Weakening him—if not his power, then his soul. And soon, it would weaken his body.
It’s almost over. Another day, that’s all you need.
He thought, if pushed, he might be able to make it a week. A day should be fine. It had to be.
If the girl stays at bay. Stays wherever she’s at.
“Christine,” he said, knowing that he had probably already waited too long. There was too much on his mind, though, and he didn’t want to have this conversation—but she was owed it. “Will you come up front?”
He listened as she moved across the ship and then stepped into the front cabin.
She sat down and David was quiet for a bit, both of them staring out the front window.
“Did Rhett tell you where we’re going?” he finally asked.
“Yes.”
“I asked him before we got in, and I’m going to ask you now, do you want to go? Do you want to finish this?”
“It’s why we’re here.”
Her voice was hard, an edge that David had heard her use against others throughout the years.
“If you don’t want to be,” David said, “you don’t have to be.”
“Is that what you think?” she turned to him and he saw tears in her eyes. “That we don’t want to be here? Are we the ones who flew off last night, unharmed, or are we the ones you nearly killed?”
David gritted his teeth, feeling anger rise in him. Rebecca had directly challenged him like this before, but never Christine, never Rhett.
Is she wrong?
“You wanted me to kill her?” David asked, his voice low. There was an edge to it as well, one that spoke of the rage running just beneath each word.
Christine looked away and out the window to her right. David saw a tear roll down her face.
“Answer me. Is that what you wanted?”
“No, David. I wanted what happened to happen. You did exactly what Rhett and I both wanted.”
David leaned back in his seat and stared out the front window. A minute of silence passed, David having no idea how to continue.
“I don’t know what happened to her,” Christine whispered. “I don’t know what they did to her when they captured us, but I saw what they did to me. I saw what they did to the others with me. They hung me up on a wall and drained my blood until I was in a coma. The people I was with? They’re not alive anymore, David. All of them are dead, and they gave their lives for you. What did she do?” Christine turned back to him. “What did Rebecca do?”
David closed his eyes, still saying nothing.
“I’ve followed you since I met you, and I’m going to continue. I’m going to follow you to this river, and if you tell me to dive in and hold my breath until my lungs explode, then that’s what I’m going to do. Rhett will do the same, and the other two? Reinheld and this pilot? I don’t even know them, but without any doubt, they’ll do whatever you ask. We all will, because we love you, and no matter what happens, we’re in this until the end.”
He listened, knowing every word was true. Knowing he deserved it. He felt no rage inside him now, only weariness.
“She won’t be there, though, David. She will most likely be trying to figure out some way to kill you. Your own sister. We love you, and it’s not because we’re frightened of you. We are scared, though. Everyone is, because your power is like nothing else on this Earth. And last night you turned it on us … instead of her. You want to let your sister live after what she did, fine. But it’s brutalizing us in her stead that hurts, David. There’s nothing I can do. Rhett told me not to even say anything, to be honest. If you want to strangle me again, then you can do it. You can kill all of us right now, and the fucking funny thing is, we’d let you. We would die right here, if that’s what you wanted, and we’d do it just to satisfy your anger.”
She sighed and was quiet for a few seconds.
“Yes, I’m going with you to the river. No, I’m not going to quit following you. None of us are.” David heard the tears in her voice, even if his closed eyes wouldn’t let him view them. “Is that all you wanted? To make sure I was still going to die for you?”
David didn’t move, didn’t say a word.
“Can I go back now?”
He nodded and listened as she exited the front cabin, heading to the people she …
What? he asked himself. She’s heading to the people she feels love her. Because it’s clear what you do: you use them. You called her up here to make sure she was still willing to die. She told you she is, knowing that’s all you wanted to hear, then she left you to yourself.
David didn’t open his eyes. Tears rested underneath and he wasn’t going to let them spill out.
What did they want him to say? That he was sorry? That he took out his rage on them, but that he wouldn’t have killed them anymore than he would have Rebecca? That he was broken, and had been since he was a fucking kid?
No, he wouldn’t tell them any of that, because he was the Prophet and this was the way it had to be. They might see his actions, but it wasn’t their job to see his sacrifices. The death flowing through him right now, taking his life for a world that he would only glimpse.
They could be angry about last night, but it wasn’t them that wore this crown. It wasn’t them that had to make the choice to let his sister live or not, and it wouldn’t be them that gave their life tomorrow.
David carried it all, and if they wanted to sit back there and be angry because he had grown angry, so be it.
He had to carry this to the end, and he couldn’t do it worrying about their feelings.
Sixty-Nine
Nicki and the stranger had walked some more, but eventually found themselves sitting on her stoop.
“You can try going in, but you won’t be able to,” Laurel said. “I don’t know exactly what will happen, only that you’ll remain right here no m
atter what you do.”
“Even me?” Nicki asked, looking behind her at the door.
“Just because something wanted you to come here, doesn’t mean all the rules end. Nothing besides me will ever get in that house.”
Nicki looked back out into the yard. “You said you were unjustly killed?”
The woman nodded. “Yeah. You wonder, after sitting in here this long, but I still think I was. Even if there is a God, you can’t force people to believe in It, or Him, or Her. Whatever it is. I was killed for not believing.” She chuckled. “That might be a bit of an understatement. I was killed for plotting an overthrow of the Ministries, but maybe they both come to the same.”
“And you just ended up here?”
“There was darkness for a while, but eventually, yes. You were on the street, but I was standing in the yard, looking up at the house. For a while, I tried everything I could think of to get out, but eventually, you come to realize that you’re not in control here. Something else is. I call it God. You can call it whatever you want, but the point is, you can’t leave here anymore than I can.”
“I keep telling you, God wouldn’t allow the things I’ve seen,” Nicki said.
“So let me hear them.”
Nicki laughed and leaned back onto the black stoop, her head touching the smooth glass that would have been concrete back in the Old World. She was quiet for a moment, and then she started talking. She started at the beginning, at the restaurant, and from there the story simply spread out. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, and quickly found that her subconscious had a lot to say. More than she had imagined.
She talked until she cried, pausing for only a second, and then continuing.
