Zoe had covered her head with her hands and faced the ground. Now she slowly stood up and began to look around. The street ahead of her was covered with glass, and there was some cosmetic damage to the buildings there. The silence was the most obvious thing about the scene. Looking behind her, she found that the street they had occupied was in ruins. Dust clouds covered the whole area, and shafts of thin light beamed in through it. As the air drifted among the dust, a thin transparent cyclone was created that disappeared toward the end of the road as she looked in that direction. In the center, where Trey and the other man had been standing, the cars that lined the street had been disturbed even further. Most of them had been knocked over, and some more of them had been tossed into the surrounding buildings. One of them was on fire, and Zoe was immediately concerned that it could spread and cause the battery to explode.
Next, her eyes drifted to the buildings, and as her feet automatically drew her back in the direction of the road, their condition caused the most concern for her. The ones at the center, nearest to the explosion, were the most affected; the bottom floors of these had been blown to pieces, and the interiors were exposed. On the right-hand side, the second floor of one of them had a concavity to it that worried her, for it appeared as though it could collapse at any moment. Indeed, in the few seconds she was looking at it, another minute crack appeared in it, and a small cloud of dust fell from the central point there.
She had been walking forward, and now she was approaching one of the cars that she had previously stepped over to escape. Both of them had been tossed aside like toys. One of them was on her left, ten feet from where she had first placed her back against it. The second one was upturned so that it was sideways against a building to her right.
Something shifted further down the road, and she heard the sound of rubble moving. She ducked down low to the ground, though there was nothing to shield her presence. She watched, frozen with fear, as giant chunks of rock were levitated into the air in tandem and then tossed aside as though weightless. What happened next was probably more shocking to her than what happened before. Without any warning, Trey rose from the ground. He was flying—levitating effortlessly. He moved slowly to a height of ten feet. Fifteen. Thirty. Then he stopped. Slowly, his gaze turned directly toward her, and all her fear vanished. She stood tall to face him with a grim expression, for she knew she was no longer looking at Trey; that illusion had long since passed. No, she was looking at someone—something—else.
The being who occupied Trey’s body stared at her from black eyes, and she returned his gaze without faltering. The garments that Trey had worn in the facility were covered with ash and dirt, and she saw that at one point on his right leg, the material was torn, and a large cut swelled there, filled with dust. Despite the fierce attack that had befallen this being, he appeared largely unperturbed. Then, without warning, he looked up at the sky and flew toward it, disappearing in a matter of seconds and leaving nothing but a small cloud of dust in his wake. As she watched him disappear, she heard the sound of a distant, muted sonic boom.
Zoe glared at the sky for a few more moments before slowly lowering her gaze to the ground. She winced and grabbed her pained elbow before she realized that she was on the verge of vomiting, and so she hunched over and placed her hand over her stomach. She retched, but nothing came up. When this stopped, she took lungfuls of air through her mouth and slowly moved back to a standing position.
A sound came from in front of her as debris and plaster were pushed aside. She looked up to see that the man in the black coat had been lying underneath it, and had pushed it off himself. He sat up straight and looked to either side of him before his gaze settled straight ahead. Following this, furrows appeared on his brow, and he glanced down at his waist.
Zoe saw that a large chunk of concrete with a sharp end had penetrated his right shoulder and was protruding from it. Acting on instinct, she ran toward him. “Are you OK?” she asked, not sure what response to expect, but fully understanding that this man was benign.
“I’m fine,” he replied as he glanced up at her.
His eyes met hers for only the briefest moments, but she knew without a doubt that they were the most beautiful she had ever seen. After a moment wherein she hesitated, her lips quivering, she reached out a hand. He stared at it, as though not understanding the gesture. Then he reached his arm forward and grabbed her hand. Dust scattered around him as he pulled himself up. To Zoe, as he pulled on her hand, he seemed weightless, as though he had risen by some unseen, invisible force—a mysterious energy she knew about all too well by now: psychokinesis.
The man quickly returned his attention to the jagged fragment of rock that had impaled him, and as he stared, his eyes turned to slits, and Zoe watched it pulled slowly from the wound, moved by an unseen force. It was ten inches in length, and exactly half of it was dripping with his blood. The man gasped, and as he released his concentration on the rock, it fell to the ground.
He looked up at her, and to Zoe, it appeared that he was confused. She glanced at the wound and saw that a small river of blood was flowing from the open hole in his shoulder.
“Oh my God, you have to take care of this immediately,” she said as she reached out for him, her hands shaking. The hole in his shoulder seemed so severe, she didn’t quite know what to do, and so for a second, she hesitated.
A quick glance up at the man’s beautiful face told her that he was in shock. He was glancing around at the street as though he had no idea where he was, and his eyes darted over her shoulder toward the buildings behind, where he seemed to fixate on various things. His gaze moved rapidly, changing focus as he glanced quickly from one object to the next. He seemed to have forgotten that he had a potentially mortal wound.
She took a chance and pressed the black material against him, ignoring the jolt of electricity that seemed to run through her hand as she touched his skin. The blood immediately seeped through the garment and over her fingers down to the ground below. She watched it drip down her hand in rivulets and stream down the beautiful black garment that he wore. Her pulse began to race as she felt the situation spin out of control.
“Max!” she yelled, looking up at him. How do I know his name?
He looked down at her and into her eyes. Finally, after a few seconds, they came into focus. He reached his right hand up and took her wrist, gently pulling it away from the wound.
He smiled. “It’s fine,” he said. “I can fix this. It’s been so long since I’ve taken mortal form—one can easily get confused. Especially in the first moments… and days.” He stared into her eyes for a moment longer, and then he looked down at the wound.
Zoe stepped back, and following his gaze, she watched in astonishment as the blood on the ground began to move. It first formed into a perfectly round pool, then streams of it rose off the surface. She saw that the rivulets of streaming red on his coat were reversing their course, moving back up to the wound and flowing into it. The stream of blood from the ground reached the wound and flowed into the gaping hole. As she watched, she saw the particles of dust that had congealed with the blood separate from it and fall away. Then, the last of it rose up off the ground and disappeared back into the open red wound, which she saw was already closing up.
The flesh around it moved toward the center quickly, and within a matter of about ten seconds, the open wound was no longer visible; there was only a scar left, which, astonishingly, began to knit rapidly and grow new skin. For a moment, it luminesced as the fading light shone on it. It continued to heal until only a thin trace of the scar remained.
“That’s better,” he said.
She glanced up at him, her mouth gaping open. “Who-Who are you?”
“I’m Max.”
She stared into his eyes. “I see,” she replied.
“You better take care of your friend,” he said, pointing toward Noah, who Zoe had left in the rubble.
She glan
ced in that direction and gasped. “Oh my God! Noah! You’re right, of course.”
“I need to take care of mine. Will you be OK?” he asked.
She nodded, wanting to spend more time with him, but sensing that he didn’t have any to spare.
He raised his arms out to his sides. Then the dust at his feet rose into the air as he levitated off the ground.
Zoe heard a whirring sound as he rose, and some of the debris vibrated around her faintly, shaking some of the dust off their surfaces. A small amount of rock rose below him, following him. She watched him rise higher and higher into the sky. Then, he flew up over the surfaces of the buildings, and the light caught his frame. The magnificent cloak fluttered around him, playing with the remaining sunlight. He glanced down at her once more before turning. Then a transparent bubble appeared around his form, and a few seconds later, a resounding sonic hum built up around the area. He rocketed off suddenly at incredible speed. Within a second, he was a mere spot in the distance, and she heard the sound of a sonic boom roll back across the sky.
Seconds later, as she was moving across the debris toward Noah, she heard another distant sound like rolling thunder—a second sonic boom. She smiled, and as she stepped over some large chunks of rock, she found herself laughing a little.
CHAPTER 25
THE SILENCE
Jane was sitting on the bench, glancing through a gap in the trees straight ahead of her at the distant sea she had loved so dearly. But the book she held in her hands was soaking wet. Indeed, all the land around her—which she remembered as lush and fertile—was like a swamp: filled with water. She looked down at the book, knowing something was wrong, but not knowing what to do.
Something flashed in her mind: an image of a wash of white foam at the top of some colossal wave coming down upon her. It hit her, pushing her underneath, and then the image vanished. She winced and found herself back in the beautiful garden. The sun was golden, and the trees were bathed in a haze of gentle spring light. She breathed in the scents, but as she did, she opened her eyes wide as her lungs filled with water. She stood up, dropping the book to the ground, and blinked. This time, when she opened her eyes, she saw the rolling underside of giant waves above her; she was beneath the surface and could see nothing but endless, roiling white foam.
Oh my God, she thought. It’s real. I’m… I’m going to die.
She stopped struggling as she stared up at the incredible waves churning above her. Just as she was about to close her eyes, something punctured the surface of the water and moved toward her with incredible velocity. She smiled, for she knew it couldn’t be real. It seemed barely human, and some kind of dark, black liquid swirled around it as it moved, creating an incredible, beautiful vision for her dying moments.
But then it was right on top of her. Incredibly strong arms grasped her, and without warning, she was moving rapidly toward the surface.
Jane frowned as some vague realization of what was happening dawned on her. The churning mass of waves was approaching from above, and she had one last chance to look at the man’s firm, clean jawline just before they broke the surface. When she did, she realized everything, and she knew who he was. She knew she was safe. She laid her head against his chest as they rocketed through the waves, into the cold night air of the Atlantic and upward toward the sky.
Jane spurted and coughed mouthfuls of water, for at the last minute when she had been close to drowning, some of it had entered her lungs.
“Jane? Are you all right?”
She continued to cough.
They came to a sudden stop mid-flight as he lifted her legs up and placed one arm beneath her knees. “Jane, just breathe through your nose. It will pass.”
She stared into his eyes—was, in fact, afraid to pull her gaze away from them. She kept coughing, and to her utter embarrassment, water kept spilling out of her mouth and down her chin. After a few more moments, this stopped, and there was silence save for the sound of the ocean below.
“Max?” she said in a rasping voice.
“Yes?”
“Can I close my eyes now?” She lay flat against his chest and had already closed them before he answered.
“Yes.”
“You pulled me away from the distant sea. You have to take me back there someday.”
“I will.”
“Do you promise?”
There was a hesitation that almost caused her to open her eyes once again.
“Yes. I promise.”
She suspected he was lying. Then, as the breeze picked up again and Max flew onward into the night, Jane found sleep quite quickly.
***
She woke to find that her clothes had been dried. She was leaning to her left against somebody’s shoulder, and as she jerked upward, wide-awake, she looked around to see Max watching her. She stared into those glacier eyes for a moment, and then, looking down, she saw that she was sitting on some kind of transparent, spherical structure; all around them was water—they were still on the ocean. She looked beneath her to see her friends lying in the escape pod below as she realized quickly that was what it was.
“Morris! Mike! Ciara!” she yelled as she moved to a kneeling position.
“Careful, Jane, or you’ll fall,” he said from beside her in that same fatherly voice she had come to know. She glanced up at him. He had his knees drawn up under him, and in the moonlight, the black of his coat shimmered with incredible beauty. His skin was pale white, even whiter now that the light of the full moon was cast against it in this endless abyss around them.
She moved back into a seating position beside him. “Are they OK?”
“They’re fine. They’re just sleeping. They’re exhausted, as I’m sure you are aware. They tried to move the device themselves to find you, but it’s not programmed for locomotion. It’s designed to stay fixed in one spot and transmit a variety of distress signals. Don’t worry; I disabled all of them. Nobody knows we’re here—at least, not to within a few hundred miles.” He turned and smiled at her. “They can’t find us.”
“Oh… good,” she said.
He took her hand and glanced up at the moon.
Jane did the same, and drawing one leg up underneath her, she rested her chin there. As she looked down at his bare white knuckles, her own palm enclosed within them, she had the feeling that the comfort was more for him than her, and it concerned her.
“What now, Max?”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then he glanced at her. His eyes darted thirty degrees to her left as a giant wave approached. Jane gaped at it and sat upright.
“Relax.” He reached out a hand, and after a few seconds, the wave flattened out until it was barely five feet high. By the time it approached the craft, it was a mere ripple in the ocean below them, and Jane barely noticed it passing by. Beyond it, she could see that the sea all around them—which had previously been rough—was now beginning to calm as Max continued to exert his power over it. After a moment, the surface was like glass; it appeared that they were crossing completely tranquil seas, and Jane was glad of that.
She glanced up at the moon once more. Now that the water was calm and clear, it was even more beautiful. It was almost full, and its final edge seemed to be composed of a dark brown dust. Its perfect reflection on the water below shone from the horizon in the far distance. She took a deep, soothing breath and shifted closer to him so that their sides were touching, and she drew tremendous warmth from her proximity to him.
He glanced at her, and she smiled at him when she turned to meet his gaze.
“So. How are you?” he asked.
She laughed then, a sound that seemed to echo in the still void that the vast sea had become at Max’s hand. “Not too bad,” she answered. “All things considered, I’m doing well.”
He nodded. “That’s very good.”
She stared up at the moon, but her smile faltered as her mind drift
ed to other, heavier things. “He’s in our world now, isn’t he?” she asked quietly. She turned to look at him after a moment. Below her, she became aware that her friends were still asleep, probably even more comforted now that the rocking motion of the waves had been stilled by Max’s tremendous power. But will it be enough? she wondered.
He had been watching her, and his smile faded too. Once again, his eyes had the depth of universes, and she shivered at the sight. He grasped her hand more tightly. His skin was cold, but the comfort brought a tear to her eye, and she shivered.
“Yes,” he replied finally, turning again to the ocean. “I hope I’ve acted properly.”
“You have, Max. Surely you don’t need me to confirm that. We’re dealing with very serious things here, aren’t we?” she said, knowing her words barely touched the depth of what was actually happening now.
He nodded. Then he sighed, continuing to look out at the endless, glass-like surface.
“What’s going to happen?”
“He’ll still search for the Nexus.”
“How do we make sure he doesn’t find it?”
Jane waited, but no answer to this question was forthcoming.
Finally, he turned to her, and his expression was somber, though still—forever—filled with the light of a thousand worlds. “I’m not certain, Jane.”
Jane pulled her gaze away from him and stared out again at the tranquil sea. Like glass, she thought. As these two particular words came to mind, her thoughts were consumed with something she would not soon forget—a vision of incredible fire and destruction.
“What will he do if he doesn’t reach it?” she asked in a quiet voice as she shook the previous image from her mind, not knowing where it had come from and not truly wanting to know, for with it came a feeling of terrible sadness.
This time, Max continued to look up at the moon and did not answer her. After a few moments, he turned to her and looked into her eyes.
Rise (The Ethereal Vision Book 2) Page 38
