The Creation: Chaos Rising

Home > Other > The Creation: Chaos Rising > Page 12
The Creation: Chaos Rising Page 12

by Art Gulley Jr.


  Nina turned her head and stiffened. A yellow aura was emanating from her body. "I'm…glowing!"

  "It's the after-effects of the Celestial energy you expended during your vision," the Celemor explained.

  Nina brought her hands and arms to her face for a closer examination. "But I've been having these crazy scenes for close to four months, now. I've never turned into a light bulb before."

  "Actually you have."

  Nina blinked in surprise. "When?"

  "The day Quinlan and Sanders first came to see you at the Center. You had a vision about one of the construction workers."

  "Mike's saw blade," she muttered. She gave him an odd look. "You were there?"

  "I was watching you from the rafters. The moment the vision hit, you're body was wreathed in Celestial light."

  Nina gave a slight shudder. "How come nobody said anything?"

  "The effect is only visible to beings with Celestially enhanced vision."

  "Then how come I'm able to see it?"

  Gabriel gave her a knowing look. "You're a Harbinger."

  An excited gleam appeared in Nina's eyes. "Does this mean I'll be able to do all sorts of cool, superman stuff too?"

  "It's difficult to say. The Emergence process is different for each individual subjected to it. Like the Harbingers and Prophets before you, I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait and see."

  Nina shot him a trenchant look. "You're not the most reassuring kid on the block, are you?"

  Gabriel smiled. "Gradually discovering your abilities is part of the process."

  Nina gave him a final scowl then turned once again to her iridescent reflection. "So what do I do now?"

  Gabriel gave her hands a brief squeeze. "Figuring that out for your-self is also part of this process. But in this case I think the answer is clear." He nodded toward the cordless phone resting in its cradle on her nightstand then vanished.

  "A lot of help you are," Nina muttered. She gave her reflection a final glance then snatched up the phone. Heaving a heavy sigh, she began punching in the number that had become all too familiar over the past several weeks.

  *

  Officer Jake Thomlin stared impassively out the window of his minuscule office on the third floor of Detroit's central Police Station located at Six Hundred Beaubien. The office's corner position afforded him a decent view of the city's bustling downtown, a distraction that kept him from going mad with boredom.

  A car accident during the high-speed chase of a suspect had left Thomlin partially disabled. To young to retire yet unfit for active patrol, the displaced officer had been reassigned to the Department's fledgling Psychic Unit or PU, an acronym which had earned the group the less than glorious nickname: The Stink Squad.

  Thomlin had been less than thrilled with his new assignment, but thankful there was still a place in the Department for someone in his position.

  One of the numerous phones situated on his desk began to ring, and Thomlin swiveled his chair around to answer it. "Psychic Unit; Officer Thomlin here," he spoke into the hand set. "How may I help you?"

  "Hello Officer."

  Thomlin stiffened in his seat.

  Most of the calls he fielded from the numerous weirdoes claiming to have had this or that vision were never substantiated, but occasionally a legitimate tip came through. One such case was the caller currently on the line. Over the past two months, information from the mysterious woman who called her self Del had led to the prevention of several heinous crimes, including a recent assassination attempt against Detroit's scandal-ridden Mayor.

  "'Morning Del; you got something for me?"

  "Possibly; I saw an explosion at the Henry Ford Imax due to a malfunction with the equipment behind the main screen."

  Thomlin's hand tightened on the receiver. "Any idea when?"

  "Definitely today; and judging by the number of people trapped in the theater I'd say it was during one of the evening shows. I hope that's enough for you. Good bye Officer Thomlin."

  "Del, wait," Thomlin called out.

  "Yes?"

  "The Mayor called yesterday."

  "And," Del prompted after a brief pause.

  "He wanted me to convey his thanks to you the next time you made contact. Swat found the bomb. It was attached to the port side motor of his yacht just like you saw it. From what I hear it was a real amateur setup. The folks in forensic were able to trace it back to the source."

  "Let me guess. That nutcase from Flint he's dating?"

  "Was dating," Thomlin replied with a nasty laugh. "Apparently home girl didn't appreciate being dumped by our illustrious leader, and decided to exact a little vengeance. From what the shrinks told me, she got the idea to blow him up from a movie, and found a make-it-yourself bomb site on the web. It's scary what a person can Google these days."

  "Yes it is," Del agreed with a soft chuckle. "I'm just glad everything turned out for the best. Maybe this little incident will teach His Honor to choose his mates more carefully."

  "I doubt it. The man's a decent politician, but his taste in women leaves a lot to be desired."

  Del chuckled again. "Well maybe someday he'll meet the right one."

  "Yeah maybe; and speaking of meeting, why don't you come down to the station yourself. A lot of the higher ups feel you deserve some serious recognition. Your visions have saved quite a few of lives."

  Several seconds passed before Del responded. "I appreciate the offer, but I think it best if I remain anonymous. Too much recognition tends to have a negative impact. Have a good day Officer Thomlin. Hopefully you won't be hearing from me for a while."

  The line went dead and Thomlin gently placed the receiver back into its cradle. "Yeah," he whispered as he pulled up the number for the IMAX on his computer's directory. "Hopefully."

  *

  Nina stared hard at the phone, replaying the conversation with Thomlin over in her mind. She was actually being credited with saving the Mayor's life. How wild was that? Maybe she should take Thomlin up on his offer of a little public appreciation.

  Several vivid fantasies flashed before her eyes: The Mayor giving her the key to the city; subsequent interviews on The Talk and The View. Hell it could happen. Plus the notoriety could generate a whirlwind of support that would really benefit the Center.

  Or destroy it, she reasoned as reality settled back in. Yeah, a few big wigs were singing her praises now. Who's to say she wouldn't be labeled as some kind of freak, or phony. Such negative publicity would ruin her reputation in the philanthropic circles, not to mention the community at large.

  No it was best to maintain her distance, and content her self with the knowledge that her peculiar talents had brought about some positive changes in the world.

  "Now that you know what you are, you may discover the reason for your Emergence," Gabriel's words echoed through her mind. For the first time she began to take heart in her new found position as a Harbinger. Maybe God hadn't dealt her such a bad hand after all.

  She also recognized that her feelings for her stalwart guardian had begun to change. Over the weeks her, initial attraction to him had grown into a genuine interest. There was something oddly compelling about his brooding nature, and for the life of her she couldn't figure out what it was.

  But then maybe that was it.

  The majority of the men she encountered, both professionally and privately, generally fell into two categories: arrogant, wannabe world-conquerors or needy, immature jerks. Gabriel's calm, almost stoic demeanor was a refreshing change; particularly in someone so young. Nina had never asked him his age. Judging by his appearance, she assumed him to be right around her own thirty three, give or take a year or two. Maybe he had what Maria termed an "old soul".

  Whatever it was she liked it. She had also come to enjoy the numerous chats the two of them shared throughout each passing day, and the emotional rapport slowly developing between them.

  Gabriel had easily identified Nina's resentment toward Miguel Delcielo, the
father that had abandoned her, as the motivating force behind her philanthropic pursuits. Several in-depth discussions on the subject with the Celemor had purged Nina of most of her anger, but had done little to alleviate her regret at having never met him.

  The Celemor's compassion had helped Nina come to terms with the lingering grief from her Mother's sudden passing, allowing her a welcome sense of closure. He had even taken to accompanying the Harbinger on the bi-monthly visits she made to her mother's grave, a gesture that only served to further endear him to her.

  Nina was less than pleased with the limited amount of information she'd managed to pry from him. She knew that he once had a wife and daughter, and that both were now deceased, but not the circumstances surrounding their deaths. Nor had he been forthcoming with any details concerning his life prior to becoming a Celemor. At times, his reluctance to confide in her was frustrating, but Nina never pushed him to share more than he was willing to.

  Building a good relationship took time, and she had already decided that forging one with her solemn guardian was worth the effort.

  Occasionally the circumstances of their situation would impinge upon her sensibilities. When that happened, she would content herself the knowledge that her bizarre twist of fate was indeed allowing her to positively affect the lives of others. In the greater scheme of things, that's what truly mattered.

  The excitement generated from her new perspective stayed with her throughout the day as she carried out her normal routine of meetings, meetings, and more meetings. It wasn't until later that evening, as she sat at the desk in her office which overlooked the Center's gymnasium that things took a turn for the worse.

  Several youths were engaged in a game basketball, the noise from their efforts echoing through the gym's walls to her office providing a spirited backdrop as Nina worked diligently trying to balance the Center's budget. For the most part, everything seemed in order, but after a solid hour of number crunching, the beleaguered woman decided to take a break. She rose from her chair to give her stiff muscles a much needed stretch, and a wall of fire engulfed her.

  Nina cringed as the sounds of terrified people thundered in her ears. All around her, bodies lay burned and mangled, some of them partially buried under the chunks of molten plastic raining down from the smoldering ceiling…trapping her…killing her…!

  "Easy, Nina," Gabriel's calm voice penetrated the flaming chaos, pulling her mind sharply away from the horrid scene. "It's just another vision."

  "Gabriel!" She fell gratefully into his iron embrace. The afterimage of the apocalyptic sight remained in her eyes for another few seconds then vanished with the same abruptness that it had come.

  Nina sighed in relief then stiffened as the vision's significance became apparent. "Oh my, God," she cried, raising horrified eyes to his face. "That was the Imax again. But...I don't understand." She gave the phone a puzzled look. "I called the police…"

  "And the Officer you spoke with forwarded the warning to the theater's management. I told you I've been keeping tabs on that," he responded to the questioning look she aimed at him.

  "Well what happened? Didn't they believe him?"

  A look of regret flitted across the Celemor's face. "I'm afraid not. The manager on duty at the Theater told the officer that their equipment was serviced regularly, and he wasn't about to ‘suffer the outlandish claims of some crackpot fortune-teller'."

  A wave of nausea swept through Nina. "Then…what I saw just now…"

  "Was the vision coming to fruition," he somberly informed her.

  Nina pressed her head harder against his muscular chest, sudden tears welling up in her eyes. "No...All those people…I failed them."

  "What happened wasn't your fault," Gabriel said, trying to forestall the tide of grief and self-loathing he sensed rising within her. "You did everything you could."

  "Apparently not enough," she choked out with a sob.

  The Celemor brushed gentle fingers across her tear-streaked face. "Some tragedies aren't meant to be prevented."

  Nina sniffed. "Not be me, anyway." Her voice was laced with bitterness. "I'll bet if you had of been there things would've turned out different.

  "I was there," he quietly told her.

  Nina turned startled eyes on him. "Then why didn't you stop it?"

  Gabriel calmly brought his eyes down to meet hers. "It wasn't part of my Task."

  A surprised jolt shot through Nina's body. Clearly she hadn't heard him right. "What did you just say?"

  "Saving the people in that theater was not part of my Task."

  This time there was no mistaking his callous response.

  Nina abruptly pushed her self away from him, her body trembling with anger. "What the hell kind of answer is that? What type of heartless monster are you that you can let so many people die?"

  Gabriel's voice hardened. "I can assure you I'm neither heartless nor a monster."

  "Then just what the hell are you, Gabriel Leyr," the infuriated Harbinger bit out, glaring at him through smoldering eyes.

  Gabriel met her censure with an icy reserve. "I'm a Celemor, and as such am not permitted to interfere with the natural course of Mortal history."

  Nina's widened in amazement. "You consider letting a bunch of people get roasted natural?"

  "In this case, yes." He winced from the sting of the hard slap she dealt his face.

  "That's bullshit!" She slapped him again for good measure. "You're practically a damned superhero. You're telling me that you're not supposed to use that power to save lives?"

  "Not when it doesn't pertain to my assigned Task," he ground out through tightly clenched teeth. "The rules set down by the Archangels are very specific on that topic."

  "Hell, break the damn rules!"

  A humorless smiled tugged at his lips. "There are some things you just don't do."

  "And just why the hell not?"

  Gabriel stared hard at her for several seconds. "For me, the cost of disobedience would be high; very high."

  Nina sensed the emotional maelstrom barely contained beneath his calm façade, but it did nothing to abate her anger. "And you think that cost outweighs the lives of innocent people?"

  Gabriel's eyes blazed with Celestial energy. "In the first place, there are no ‘innocent people' in the world. The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be."

  Nina was stunned by his palpable hostility.

  "And as far as the cost is concerned," Gabriel continued, his voice calmer, the glow fading from his eyes. "It was."

  A toxic silence permeated the office as Celemor and Harbinger regarded one another across the resentful void that now lay between them.

  Several minutes passed then Nina released a tired sigh. She dropped wearily into her chair. "You know, for a while I thought I was finally getting a handle on things; really starting to understand my purpose in all of this craziness." Their eyes met briefly, but the contact was broken when she abruptly turned her chair away from him.

  She let her gaze fall on the youths still playing on the court, completely oblivious to the harsh realities being revealed around them. "Now I don't know what to believe."

  "Welcome to my world," Gabriel grunted then vanished in a flash of light; leaving the disillusioned Harbinger alone with her troubled thoughts.

  Chapter 19

  Hovering silently before the Window, Omen observed the discord between the Harbinger and Celemor with a growing sense of apprehension.

  Many were the discussions he had shared with Gabriel in which the Celemor voiced his steadfast disagreement with the limitations put on his actions. The Overseer knew that the incident at the theater would only serve to deepen Gabriel's growing resentment for his Celestial post.

  "You're turning into Michael, my friend," a silvery voice rang out as the Overseer Intuition strode gracefully into the room, her thick plait of red hair billowing in the slight breeze created by her passage. "What fascinating events within the Realms have garnered your attention
this day?"

  "Nothing of any great significance," Omen replied, touching his slender hand gently against hers in the traditional Celestial Greeting of Equals. "I was merely observing the progress of our fledgling Harbinger."

  Intuition's eyes flicked briefly to the shimmering image in the Window. "It looks to me as if you're more concerned with her guardian."

  "Well he has been charged with the Harbinger's safety," Omen replied stiffly. "It is a matter of prudence to maintain a vigil over them both."

  "Prudence can be also be served by maintaining your objectivity."

  Omen's eyes flared briefly. "Meaning what?"

  Intuition leveled a stern look on her fellow Overseer. "Gabriel Leyr holds a place of unusual importance within your heart. Such affection can have disastrous consequences if you allow it to compromise your judgment."

  "Distancing ourselves from the Celemors can be equally damaging. Or have you forgotten the circumstances that led to Caleb's current condition."

  "Caleb's situation was entirely different," Intuition fired back, her gray eyes flashing. "That Mortal was unstable even before he was subjected to Iblis's bilge. No telling what state that hapless fool's mind was in by the time Michael recruited him."

  "My point exactly," Omen cried. "Caleb agreed to leave Hell's ranks and take on the mantle of Celemor out of some skewered sense of betrayal he felt he had suffered at Iblis's hand. If we Overseers had maintained a more proactive rapport with him, his development of similar feelings toward the Archangels, and subsequent rejection of the Divine Tenets, might have been avoided."

  The chamber was silent as Intuition considered Omen's position. "Perhaps; I still say Caleb's and Gabriel's situations are entirely different."

  "And in my opinion Gabriel's is far more volatile," Omen countered. "You forget; Caleb willingly accepted the Archangel's invitation. Gabriel was coerced."

  A distasteful frown appeared on Intuition's face. "That Mortal was not coerced."

 

‹ Prev