The Prophet Box-Set: Books 1-4

by David Beers

  The First’s eyes lit green as he activated his nanotech. How much longer?

  A minute or so passed, the First growing more impatient with each passing second.

  Ten minutes, the Priest finally answered.

  Connect me with the pilot.

  Another second passed, then a new voice filled the First’s head.

  Your Holiness, this is Captain Demure. The First Council’s Priest gave me your instructions about moving closer to the Globe, but has now put me in contact with you.

  Finally, a man who sounded half-way competent.

  Yes, the First Priest said, I’m sending you my location within this globe. I want you to come to it, and get me out.

  A brief pause, and then, Get you out?

  Yes. You’re going to shoot a hole in the window, drop down, and let me hop into the top of your transport.

  A longer pause. The captain spoke hesitantly with his next words. I’ve received your location. Your Holiness, I just want to make sure I understand you clearly … you want me to fire on the Globe of One and then you’re going to jump into my transport.

  The First Priest shook his head while he stared out the window at the end of the hall. The man might sound competent, but perhaps that was as far as it went. There is no other choice. I either do that, or I die in here. Do you understand?

  The man’s training whipped into play and his voice returned to its original cadence. Yes, Your Holiness. My ETA is five minutes.

  The First Priest walked down the hall, his eyes returning to their usual color. He got to the end and looked to the left and right, seeing no one on either side. He thought the ship could pretty much fire anywhere, as long as it was a little distant from the First, and then he would walk to the opening.

  Minutes passed, and then he saw the ship drop down from above, coming into view. It hovered directly in front of the First Priest.

  I see you, Your Holiness. I think I can safely fire at the other end of the hall, though there it will start a fire.

  Hush, you fool, the First said, unable to withhold his anger any longer. No one but him had understood the situation since it began, and this man was no different. There will be a fire extinguishing system in here. Just shoot the damned window and then make sure you catch me when I jump.

  Yes, Your Holiness.

  The ship floated to the left, its nose still pointing at the windows.

  The First Priest watched it go; Corinth be thanked, he was about to get out of this.

  “What is going on?” Benten asked.

  Yule stood from his chair, not knowing he did it. Benten had stood, too, no longer lying across the couch.

  Only Trinant remained sitting.

  “Where is that ship from?” Yule asked.

  “It’s got to be one of his,” Trinant answered. “This one was sent separately. We’re not tracking it.”

  “Where are the others?”

  “They’ll be here in 10 minutes,” she said.

  “What is he doing?” Benten asked.

  Yule watched the Priest’s eyes light green briefly. “He’s talking to the pilot.”

  And sure enough, the ship started moving down the row of windows, away from the Priest.

  “No,” Trinant said, standing up now. “He can’t be that stupid.”

  Yule thought he saw it at almost the exact same time.

  “He doesn’t understand,” Trinant said. “He doesn’t have a clue because he’s lived maybe a week above ground. Same with that idiot pilot. They have no idea what they’re doing.”

  The ship was going to fire on the globe, opening up a hole in it.

  “The fool,” Yule whispered, seeing what the First Priest didn’t. Corinth may have been a brilliant engineer beneath ground, but his descendants didn’t understand air pressure. Louder, Yule said, “Can we stop him? Is it too late?”

  A second passed, and then Trinant said, “I can try.”

  “Don’t do it.”

  The voice came from the ceiling, loud but not disguising the bitch it stemmed from.

  “You’ll die if you do.”

  The First Priest laughed; he didn’t know if Trinant or the other Ministers could hear him, but he didn’t care. Actually, he almost hoped they could.

  You’ll die if you do.

  Death wasn’t in the cards for the First Priest, at least not right now. He didn’t even bother saying anything back. His eyes lit green.

  Fire, he told the pilot.

  The turret on the ship’s nose burned bright green, and for a single moment, the First Priest wished he’d told the fool to tame it down some.

  It was too late, though.

  The First Priest watched as the green light bulged outward, for an instant looking like it might not actually fire—and then streaking across the air and colliding with the large window. The glass seemed to freeze, even as the laser obliterated the wall behind it. The window hung—in one piece—for an impossibly long second, and then the First Priest watched it fall. Tiny pieces of glass all dropping at once.

  The First Priest had a moment to think, I wonder if that’s what snow looks like, and then the glass was ripped out into the sky.

  Wind roared by the First Priest, stronger than anything he’d ever felt. It pulled his feet out from under him and he hit the floor sliding, being sucked toward the open window.

  Most Holy! the pilot shouted through his nanotech.

  Fire grew in front of him, though wind rushed them toward the smashed window. He grabbed at the floor around him, but found nothing to hold on to—his body continued sliding across the floor, the wind pulling him toward the exit he’d created.

  He flipped over on his stomach, hoping he might be able to grab something firmer, but his fingers found no crevices to fix on.

  “NO!” he screamed. “NO! NO! NO! NO!”

  Over and over the words rolled from his mouth as he flew down the hallway, as if somehow his voice alone could stop everything happening. He drew closer to the flames, themselves whipping out the open window nearly as soon as they were born. Above him, the extinguishing system had activated, but the water flew to the window, not falling even two inches before hitting the sky.

  “NO! NO! NO!”

  And then, despite how far down the hall he’d been, the First Priest reached the window. He looked out for a split-second, seeing the pilot impossibly far away from the Globe, having no choice but to avoid the wind tunnel pouring from it.

  The First’s legs went first, and he reached out, more desperate now than he’d ever been in his whole life—searching for anything that might save him.

  His hand briefly touched the metal bar that supported the window, and for a brief moment, hope sprung alive in the First Priest’s mind.

  Yes, Corinth!

  His hand couldn’t possibly have enough strength to hold against such force, though, and the First Priest was sucked out of the Globe.

  He fell much like the Prophet had; only he screamed the whole way down.

  It was a long fall.

  Seventy-One

  Nicki woke up expecting to see neon blue sky above her, but instead she saw smooth, white tile. She stared at it for a second, not understanding how the sky had changed so much.

  Rules, Laurel’s voice said.

  Her fingers pressed against the ground beneath her, but she realized it wasn’t ground—certainly not the smooth black glass from that other place. She was feeling floor tile, much like what she saw above her. Nicki’s vision expanded then, and as she looked to the left and right, she understood where she was.

  A dark, all consuming depression grabbed her mind. She saw the box, the one that had been cast in blue light, but then lit up bright green. It looked dead now, the windows providing the hallway’s only light.

  A skeleton, just as it had been before, but no life in its bones.

  Nicki closed her eyes for a second.

  It’d all just been a dream. Just some crazy damned dream. She hadn’t gone anywhere, and the p
eople that were here with her …

  Dad? she wondered, her eyes flashing open. She climbed to her feet, looking around the long hallway as she did. She saw nothing, only walls, windows, and the single door at the end.

  “What did I do?” she asked, tears filling her eyes. “What did I do?”

  She walked down the hallway to where she had seen the dark man, hoping maybe—somehow—that when she got to the end, she would see more. She didn’t.

  It was a dream, she thought, a chill running down her torso. I killed them. All of them.

  She heard no voice from another world, nothing telling her what to do. There was no fat man, nor thin one, in Priest’s robes now. No woman walking beside her on black glass. Maybe the voice had been nonsense, too. Just something in her head, driving her to protect herself from whatever the fat man wanted.

  No, some part of her said. No, that voice was real. Maybe that other world was a fake, but the ferocity you felt in that other voice … that was real.

  What the fuck does any of it matter? another part asked. Your goddamn father’s dead—what does it matter what you saw or felt? You killed him—

  The thoughts scattered, because Nicki thought she heard something to her left. The sound of footsteps echoing through the hall. She turned, looking down the adjoining hallway, but saw only where it ended into another.

  Someone was here, though. Those were footsteps she heard, and coming closer.

  Nicki didn’t move; where could she go? To other worlds that she didn’t understand, and most likely only existed in her head? Who was coming for her now?

  I wished they had faith, Nicki. The same faith you refuse now, and the thing I’ve come to accept in this place. Faith that something is bigger than us, and that it’s guiding us. Guiding everything.

  The voice from the strange woman came back to her, as if in answer to her question. Saying, it doesn’t matter who is coming, because everything serves a greater purpose.

  Nicki rejected the thought, though she didn’t look inside herself for that gray well. She might not believe what the woman said, but that didn’t mean she had to use whatever was inside her. There was no greater hand moving pieces around, but she didn’t have to wreck the pieces herself.

  Two people turned the corner and halted, staring down the hallway at her. Two women that Nicki had never seen before.

  Both looked … strained, as if something was pulling their insides, stretching them past the point of uncomfortableness and into the territory of pain. As if they might completely rip apart.

  “It’s you,” the woman on Nicki’s left said. “It’s actually you.”

  Nicki didn’t move, seeing the same look in these two women that she had others for the past month. They wanted her. Wanted something from her. Wanted to use her.

  “I’m Rebecca,” the woman on the left said. “I’m … We’re not here to hurt you.”

  Nicki remained silent, though she looked to her left. Only the box remained there, with nowhere else for her to run.

  Because whatever is happening on Earth, whatever is happening with the Black, none of it really matters in the end. Even the Black is going to wind up facing the creature that put you and me here.

  Again, the woman’s words came to her. It was almost as if Nicki still sat in front of her, whole sentences flowing out into Nicki’s mind.

  No, Nicki thought. None of that is true, and if for a second your mind wants to entertain those thoughts, just look down that hallway again and see the box sitting there. Because these two in front of you—and if not them, then someone else—would probably love to throw you back in that box. Love to force you back in front of the Black.

  “What do you want?” Nicki said, her voice cracking as she did. She hated the sound of it, but she couldn’t help it.

  She was tired. So damned tired, and no matter where she went or what happened, there was always more in front of her. There was no rest from this life.

  “I just want to talk to you,” the woman named Rebecca said. “That’s all.”

  Nicki laughed, tears filling her eyes. “No one only wants to talk to me.”

  David was dreaming and he knew it.

  He was a child again, back in the last house his parents ever lived in.

  The booming voice outside told everyone to surrender, and then he heard his mother shouting. Everyone was screaming, running back and forth. David was frantically looking for Rebecca, knowing what the two of them had to do. They had to get to their room and pack, though they were only supposed to get a few things. They’d been over this again and again, just in case men showed up for them.

  Like right now.

  He couldn’t find Rebecca, though. He was running around the house, his mother shouting to his father, but the only thing on his mind was finding his sister.

  He had to get her. They had to pack.

  But she wasn’t here, yet David knew she should be.

  He turned the corner to the back hallway, thinking she might already be in their room. He nearly ran into his mother, his head only coming up to her stomach. She was standing still, unmoving, and David looked up.

  She stared back down at him. Her face was full of disappointment, and when she spoke, all the rest of the noise in the house died. Only her words filled his ears.

  “You lost her, David. You lost your sister.”

  Tears sprang to his eyes, even though he knew this wasn’t real—understanding that if he could somehow just wake up, all of it would disappear.

  He couldn’t, though. He could only stare up at his mother, having no answer to her accusation. Because he had lost Rebecca and he couldn’t find her. Not in this place, nor any other.

  And then his mother’s face imploded. A bullet pierced through her forehead, the bone collapsing and caving in, looking like an internal force was sucking it from the inside.

  The bullet broke through the back of her head, sending a grotesque mix of blood, brains and bone spraying out behind her.

  She kept staring down at him, the upper half of her head a destroyed wreck, but her eyes never releasing their judgment.

  His mother collapsed in a heap, every muscle in her body giving out at once.

  David’s eyes flashed open and his body jerked up from his seat. He held himself stiff, staring out the front window with strained eyes, his heart thudding in his chest.

  How long had it been since he dreamed of his mother? How many damned years?

  How many years had it been since you even thought of her, David? Before the last couple of months? Because the truth is, before all of this, you never thought of her.

  Slowly, David’s muscles started relaxing, and he leaned back in his chair.

  His breathing was still harsh, but he forced his fingers to stop clenching the armrests. He let his head rest against the back of his seat and closed his eyes again, though sleep was a long, long way off. His heart still thumped hard, and in the blackness of his mind, he saw his mother’s eyes. Judging him. Heard her voice telling him that he’d lost his sister.

  It was the dream that caused him to miss the girl at first. Because he should have seen her the moment he woke up … but he didn’t. It was hard to believe, because the woman’s presence was massive in the way mountains are. His mental eye could see her from anywhere, without having to focus at all.

  Yet, in those few minutes after waking, it was only his mother he saw.

  Finally though, her judging eyes and bloody face faded, and David was left with reality.

  “No …,” he whispered, not knowing nor caring if those in the back heard him. They weren’t even afterthoughts.

  David felt her, like some large boulder thrust into his mind, blocking the natural flow of his thoughts. Before he slept, he could have only found her if he searched, and hard. The girl had gone somewhere else, but …

  She was back.

  Here, on Earth.

  David’s eyes remained closed, and without even searching, he knew where she was. In the One Path ag
ain. She didn’t need to activate the gray for him to see her now. The static was with her all the time, a power that could spread across the entire world or remain inside of her, but either way, he saw it.

  David forced her from his mind, needing to understand the status of everything else he had in motion. The power still flowed through him to his followers, the broken ones flooding up through the Globe. They were close, but they hadn’t killed the Ministers yet.

  He was losing control. He felt it, his power over them waning. The Summoning would continue, those that followed him still pillaging the world, but it was those inside the Globe that mattered the most. Keeping the Ministries occupied—the Ministers fearing for their lives—was what he needed. There was time yet. His power was only slipping, not dying completely.

  David let the connection drop, remaining still in his chair, trying to regain some composure.

  The banks of the Nile River would be empty, which was the way he wanted it. In Veritros’s time, war had raged when she went to the Union, but David would have silence. Peace. If the Ministries suspected he was still alive, they wouldn’t be able to get there in time. Not anymore.

  But she can, David. She can go anywhere you can.

  He heard the Unformed again, what It had said when first showing David the girl: KILL HER.

  But he hadn’t, he’d failed, and now …

  No. She won’t come for you. Perhaps she has power, but you saw her. She’s frightened with no clue what to do. Get to the Nile and finish this.

  David turned around and looked into the back of the transport. The four slept. David checked the flight path. Only five hours away.

  We’re going to make it, he thought. She doesn’t even have time to get there if she wanted, not from the One Path. Whatever brought her back, she’s too late.

  David said nothing to those riding behind him. There was no reason to worry them. He would go with his lieutenants, just as Veritros had; they would not fail this time.