by R. T. Lowe
Felix didn’t answer. Saying yes would commit him to a path he wasn’t prepared to take. Feeling uncomfortable, he turned to Allison, hoping she would bail him out.
Kayla watched him, brow furrowed, chewing anxiously on her lip. “What did Lofton say to you?”
Felix questioned Allison with his eyes and she shrugged. “He wanted me to join him.”
Kayla’s eyebrow’s arched in surprise. “Join him? Well I suppose if he didn’t kill you, he’d want you on his side. It’s just… curious.”
“So I can move things with my mind?” Allison asked, changing the subject to Felix’s immense relief.
Kayla gave her head a quick shake as if coming out of a daze. “Uh-huh. You just need to focus everything you have on something small.” She put a finger to her nose and drew a line to a wadded up napkin beside Felix’s mug. Letting out a small breath, she placed her hands on the table and bent her neck slightly forward, her eyes locked on the napkin. A second passed, and then another, and then finally the napkin began to shake as if someone had kicked a leg of the table. Kayla threw her head back and her tongue lolled for a moment, letting out an exhausted groan. “Bet that blew your minds, huh?” She laughed at herself. “If I focus until my eyes bleed and I pee myself I can sometimes bend a spoon or spin a bottlecap.”
“That was awesome,” Allison said, impressed.
“Right,” Kayla replied sarcastically. “But you know what? That’s the difference between life and death when you have a tester telling you to move something. I think that tennis ball rolled maybe an inch at most.”
A thought occurred to Felix. “Is Lofton still testing kids?”
“Why wouldn’t he be?” Kayla sounded surprised. “He wants every Sourceror he can find.”
“So there’s kids out there still dying?” Felix said. “The ones who can’t move bricks and tennis balls?”
Kayla nodded sadly. “Hundreds. Thousands actually if you think about how long this has been going on.”
Felix blew out a long whistling breath and shook his head, though the number didn’t surprise him at all.
“Damn,” Allison whispered. “The Faceman was so public with what he did, leaving the bodies where they’d be found, like he wanted everyone to know.”
“To scare the public,” Kayla explained. “That’s what Lofton wanted. That’s what he always wants.”
“But where,” Allison began, her expression troubled, “where are all the bodies then? Thousands, you said?”
“Somewhere.” Kayla held out her arms as if to indicate they could be anywhere. “It’s a big country. Lofton knows, of course, and when it suits his needs, he’ll shove them in the public’s face. Because that’s what Lofton does. He breaks things. Blames it on someone else. Then promises to fix it. That’s his modus operandi. When the time’s right for Lofton, he’ll make the public aware of all the dead kids, and someone will be blamed for it, and then he’ll assure everyone that only he can fix it.”
“Break it, blame someone else, and promise to fix it,” Allison said reverently. “When you put it like that, it really hits home. That’s what he did with all the gun violence, and the water, the food and everything else.”
“Don’t forget the Numbered Ones,” Felix said.
“Right,” Allison said. “How could I forget his coup de grace?”
Kayla slumped in her seat and cracked her knuckles as if in anger. “The Numbered Ones, as terrible as they are, may not be Lofton’s crowning achievement. I think he has something else in mind, and if the rumors I heard are true, they could be much worse than those awful things.”
“What did you hear?” Felix asked, a feeling of apprehensiveness tightening his stomach.
“I knew this guy, a Drestianite, and he was just one of those people everyone talks to. Anyway, he heard that Lofton had created something big and scary. Something that could fly. It sounds crazy, but I don’t think it’s bullshit. Lofton likes to come at you from multiple directions to keep you off balance. He wants everyone to be afraid of things they can understand—like guns and poisoned water—and things they can’t wrap their heads around.”
“Like the Numbered Ones,” Allison said.
“Yeah,” Kayla agreed.
“Did that guy say what it…?” Felix stopped himself short. He didn’t know if he could trust Kayla. He’d only met her a minute ago. He looked at Allison and she nodded, apparently knowing what he had on his mind. Allison, it seemed, already trusted her, and that was enough for him.
“Ever hear of a Deathhead?” Felix asked.
“Deathhead?” Kayla repeated, eyes narrowing, then shook her head. “Sounds ominous. Where’d you hear that?”
“A Numbered One.” Allison drank from her coffee. “Before Felix prematurely decapitated it, it told us the Deathheads are coming.” She gave Felix a grin. “We might have found out more, but Felix flung its head to Mexico.”
Felix felt a twinge of guilt, but he still thought his response was appropriate considering the Numbered One was attempting to bite off Allison’s face.
“When was this?” Kayla asked.
“Last week,” Allison said. “Same day the ERA passed the Bill of Freedom.”
“Ahhh,” Kayla said knowingly. “The Numbered One with the missing head. You mean to tell me it wasn’t the Boy Scout leader with his Swiss army knife?” She went quiet for a beat. “Deathheads huh? Sounds like something Lofton would do.”
“But you don’t know?” Felix said.
“Just rumors,” Kayla sighed. “I had heard there might be something in the woods in north Idaho not far from the Canadian border. After I spoke to Professor Malone, he let me borrow a car and I took a drive up north.” She glanced down, frowning. “The professor knows I’m not a Drestianite and that it was his wife’s idea to have me infiltrate them, but even the Drestianites know the Order is a disorganized mess. Malone told me I had to keep my distance until he’s had a chance to speak to the Fortress leaders. They won’t accept me with open arms just yet. Can’t really blame them though. If you go online, you’ll see a bunch of pictures of me with Lofton. There’s even a few where I’m hanging all over him and looking at him like I’m madly in love—like he’s the greatest thing ever. I had longer hair back then and it wasn’t black.” She put her hands to her head. “Clever disguise, right?”
Felix suddenly felt sorry for her.
Apparently so did Allison. “Where are you staying?”
Kayla smiled at them. “You guys are sweet. Don’t worry about me. I’ve been on my own for a long time and Malone’s not going to let me starve.”
“If you need anything…” Allison began.
“I’m fine. Thank you though. Sorry, I got a bit off track. What I was trying to say is that I had some time on my hands so I thought I’d see if I could confirm the rumors. I spent a few days stomping around in the woods, but my information was fairly spotty and I didn’t know where to look so it was a bit of a needle in a haystack sort of thing. I didn’t actually see anything, but I always sort of felt like something was watching me. The day I packed up my stuff, something passed over the treetops, and I don’t know what it was, but it blocked out the sun. Maybe it was only a flock of birds, but something tells me, well, you guys know.”
They nodded. They knew.
“I should get going,” Kayla said abruptly. “Go get yourself burner phones. Don’t use those”—she nodded at Allison’s phone beside her mug—“unless it’s to say something you don’t mind Lofton knowing. Lofton has technology that reads every call, text and email, and tracks everything you do on the Internet. He can hack into any phone at any time and he knows exactly where you are as long as it’s on. If you don’t want him knowing where you’re at, turn it off, and don’t trust anyone’s texts. If you get a text from someone you know and it seems weird or not quite right, then it’s probably a hack job. Turn off your regular phone and call them on your burner. You have a pen?”
Felix took one from his backpack and hande
d it to her.
“Here’s my number,” Kayla said as she pressed the point into a napkin. “You can get burners on 1st Street two stores over from McDonald’s. The place is called Sisk’s. Don’t use the same burner for more than two or three weeks. They’re simple and clean. You can call and text on them and that’s it. No Internet, no Apps and no GPS tracking your location. Text me when you get them.”
Felix nodded, recalling how his phone had been hacked twice. First the Faceman, and then whoever had lured him into the ambush at the quarry. Thinking about it now, he realized how stupid he’d been to not get a new one.
“Okay,” Allison said. “Makes sense. Thanks.”
“No problem.” Kayla shrugged. “The phone thing seems pretty benign when you consider everything else Lofton is doing. But if you talk to Malone about it, he’ll tell you the Order’s number one priority is to knock out his technology. You can’t hope to win a war if the enemy knows everything you’re planning in advance. Lofton hears everything and we’re in the dark. The Order needs a swift kick in the ass to get its shit together, but Malone’s smart and they’re working on a plan to level the playing field.” She handed Felix his pen and stood. “You should talk to him. He’s a good man.”
Felix had no intention of seeing the professor but nodded anyway, not wanting to seem impolite.
Kayla cocked her head, giving Felix a hard look. “Despite what Lofton may have told you or how he may seem, I know him. I’ve seen what he can do, and believe me, he’s just getting started. The Bill of Freedom is the tip of the proverbial iceberg. I know some things about him that’ll keep you up at night for the rest of your life, but let’s leave that for another time.” She turned as if to start for the door then stopped and looked at Allison. “I almost forgot. In that video of the quarry, you totally destroyed that Protector, but you can’t keep bringing your fists to a knife fight if you’re hoping to see your next birthday. From what I’ve seen of your skill set, I just might have something for you. As far as weapons go, I think it’s perfect, but it’s not actually mine to give. Let me check and I’ll see if I can convince him to part with it. I think it has… sentimental value.”
They watched Kayla as she threaded her way through the couches and tables and past the counter then out the front door and into the cold of a drizzly winter day.
“I like her,” Allison announced.
“Foster kid. Worked as a waitress. Tough. Not unattractive. She doesn’t remind me of anyone I know.” He grinned crookedly.
“‘Not unattractive?’” Allison snickered. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment?”
“That’s how it was intended.” Felix smiled and took a drink, but the coffee had gone cold.
“So you think you might talk to Malone?” Allison asked, her voice cautious.
“What’s the point in talking to him when I know what he’s gonna say? He wants me to join the Order and I don’t know what I want to do yet. Kayla’s obviously under the impression Lofton thinks I’m the Belus, so you know she must’ve told Malone, and I don’t want to sit there and act like an idiot when Malone asks me if I am.”
“I think you should give him a little more credit than that,” Allison suggested. “It’s not like he’s recruiting you to play football, Felix. He’s not just some blind follower, you know. He’s got… perspective, and I think if you just give him a chance it might help you decide what to do. You can’t stay in a holding pattern forever, right? Don’t you have to pick a side?”
“Do I?” Felix sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “Remember that Bourne flick we were watching a while back where he just went off with his girlfriend and they lived on some island somewhere and everyone just left him alone?”
“I do,” Allison said seriously. “And if I recall correctly, the people he was hiding from found him and shot his girlfriend in the head. So I think your plan might be somewhat flawed.”
Felix smiled at her. “Now you’re just nitpicking. One tiny little flaw in an otherwise perfect plan and you have to just tear apart the whole thing. You’re such a downer sometimes.”
“Me?” Allison exclaimed. “I’m a downer? Don’t even get me started.” She smiled as she pressed the button on the side of her phone to turn it off. “Speaking of Bourne, let’s go get some burners.” She took her jacket from the seatback and slipped it on. “I love all that spy stuff. It seems so… civilized compared to the shitstorm we’re living in.”
“No kidding,” Felix agreed. “You think Bourne was in Bora Bora? Think about it, you and me and a beach in Bora Bora. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds nice. You sure they have beaches in Bora Bora?”
“Don’t they? Sounds beachy, doesn’t it?” Felix thought about Googling it, but thought better of it. Lofton, he knew, was watching.
Chapter 13
FAMILY REUNION
Felix stopped by Allison’s room to see how she was feeling. She’d left Woodrow’s early, complaining of a headache, but she wasn’t in her room and when Caitlin checked the girls’ bathroom and emerged with her face knotted up with concern he set off again into the night, but not before reassuring Caitlin that Allison could take care of herself.
It was just after one and a damp wind rustled the branches of the big oaks along the lonely path to the campus chapel. He thought Allison might be enjoying the solitude of the gathering room, but he found St. Rose as quiet and dark as a crypt, the pews undisturbed by anyone, including Allison (or the ghost of Agatha). Deciding to have a look inside the stone walls of the Old Campus, he departed the chapel but had only walked a short distance when he saw a silhouette beside one of the statues that watched over the fountain. He paused for a second, listening to the gentle patter of the water, then drew closer, slowly, not sure if it was the likeness of a long dead god cast in bronze or something else.
“Hello Felix,” a voice called out. It wasn’t Allison, but a man’s voice, a voice he had heard before. “Don’t be afraid.” A tall figure stepped out of the darkness, emerging into an island of light, motioning for him to approach.
“Lofton?” Felix said, stopping, feeling his pulse quicken.
“Not who you were expecting?” he asked in a joking voice.
Felix shook his head stiffly, glancing around, wary of any number of things, least among them ambushes. He was surprised to see Lofton, but not shocked, as this wasn’t the first time he’d made an unannounced appearance in the dead of night.
“What are you doing here?” Felix asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? Waiting for you. We have a lot to discuss.” Lofton paused, and Felix could feel the weight of his gaze on him. “I understand your lack of trust, but I assure you, I mean you no harm.” He moved to his left and sat on a stone bench, his hands in his pockets. He wore dress pants and a shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway to his elbows. No coat. Lofton gestured at a bench across from him flanked by a bearded deity with a trident and an angelic-faced youth playing the harp.
“Please have a seat.”
Felix hesitated, but concluded, as he had that night nearly a month ago when Lofton had approached him in the alley near the hospital, that Lofton was telling the truth about his intentions. The truth, Felix thought suddenly, recalling Lofton’s claim that humanity’s lawlessness was on the verge of extinguishing the Source forever. That was a lie and Felix was tired of being lied to.
“You lied to me,” Felix said flatly as he entered the garden, his feet crunching on the gravel. He stopped next to the bench, staying on his feet. “There is no Source. No prophecy. All of it’s a lie and you’re just using it to gain power.” He stared down at Lofton, sitting relaxed, leg crossed comfortably over the other, hands now cupping a knee. His breath misted though he didn’t appear concerned by the cold, his lack of appropriate winter attire clearly not an oversight.
“I’m glad you figured it out, Felix. Between us, I want there to be no lies. But to be clear, I might quibble with some of your conclusions.” Lofton
smiled crookedly and it made his face seem younger, like he was someone Felix knew from school. Perhaps it was the ease of his smile, or perhaps it was the familiarity of a face that betrayed the blood they shared. “Gaining power, for instance, is only a means to an end, nothing that has ever intrinsically motivated me.”
Felix was startled, expecting Lofton to deny his accusations. While he collected himself, Lofton waited, watching him with patient eyes. “Then what’s the point of it?” Felix asked.
“Sourcerors find comfort in the prophecy like Wisps find comfort in an afterlife. The Source, as you now know, doesn’t literally exist, but that doesn’t in any way undermine the importance of the prophecy. As a metaphor, it’s really spot-on, don’t you think? Where do you think civilization would have been in ten years or fifty years if I hadn’t intervened? Humanity was on the path to ruin, and that’s a fact. I told you before that humankind can’t fix society’s problems—only we can fix it—and I hope you’ve let that sink in. I have an obligation.” He extended his hand and held out a finger. “And so do you.”
“Do you get tired of lying?” The question came out sounding more sarcastic than Felix had intended. “You aren’t the Drestian. There is no Drestian.”
“I’ve committed far worse acts than uttering a few lies to perpetuate the mythology of the Drestian.” Lofton folded his arms and uncrossed his legs, scowling at the ground. “I’ve never regretted it, though I do wish sometimes there was another way. You may find this difficult to believe, but no one has sacrificed more than me. The Warning may be a metaphor, but the consequences of following in its path are very real. The prophecy can’t survive without the belief in the fated ones.” He put a hand to his chest. “The Drestian. And”—he held out his hands to Felix—“the Belus.”
“The Belus,” Felix repeated softly and the word sounded strange to him, made up. “But I’m not the Belus.”
“Sure you are,” Lofton said lightly. “It’s the part you were born to play. Immaculately conceived and born to fire.”
