by R. D. Brady
“Okay, good, that’s good. But why are they focused on me?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t in any of the files Danny went through. But the segment on you is scheduled to appear tomorrow. I guess we’ll find out then.”
CHAPTER 25
The hours until Sunday evening were excruciating. Each minute felt like an hour. Every time Laney left the estate, she felt like she had eyes on her. She knew it was only in her mind, but she couldn’t help it. She tried to fill her time with projects, just to keep herself from thinking about what was coming. Because she knew that whatever it was, was going to be bad. Really bad.
To pass the time, Jake had prepared dinner for her, Henry, Jake, Patrick, and Jen. They had kept the conversation flowing, cracking jokes, trying to make it seem like any other evening. But Laney couldn’t help but watch the clock.
It would have been easier if they’d had some idea what the focus of the piece was going to be. Almost everyone Laney knew had received a phone call within the last week from Wallace’s research team. Some of those people had told Laney about this directly; she wasn’t worried about them. It was the people who hadn’t contacted her that she was concerned about.
At least Jen seems to be doing better, Laney thought. Not that Laney was surprised. Jen had pushed her concern for herself aside and was now determined to help Laney however she could. It was her way. So Laney had held off on telling her what she’d found out about Vanessa. She wondered if she ever would. After all, if Jen really wanted the information, she would do the same search herself. I’ll just have to play it by ear.
Finally, show time rolled around, and they all crowded into Laney’s small living room to watch The Sunday Report. Laney sat in the middle of the couch with Jake on one side and Patrick on the other. Henry and Jen sat on the loveseat. Laney’s nerves were stretched thin. She had never enjoyed being the center of attention. She loved spending time with people, but she’d rather the focus was on someone else. Even birthday parties made her uncomfortable, at least birthday parties for her. So the idea of the entire nation—or at least Mike Wallace’s viewing audience—watching her was enough to make her feel sick.
Her uncle took her hand. “It’ll be all right. Whatever happens, it’ll be all right.”
Laney squeezed his hand. She was grateful he was there.
“It’s starting.” Henry turned up the volume as the opening credits for The Sunday Report began to play. Laney let out a breath. Jake placed his hand on her thigh, and Laney wrapped her free hand in his.
“Good evening.” Mike Wallace, age fifty-eight, strolled across the set of The Sunday Report. Newspaper headlines from the week were splashed along the wall behind him. “Tonight, our first story is a little unusual. Normally, we focus on stories that you’ve heard about and bring them into more detail. But tonight, we’re going to introduce you to a story that has been hidden from view. The story of a woman named Delaney McPhearson.”
Laney cringed as an image of her appeared on the wall next to Mike.
“You may not know the name, but by the end of this segment, you will never forget her.”
The image next to Mike shifted, and Laney gasped. It was the house she had lived in with her parents. “Delaney grew up in a middle class neighborhood with two loving parents. From all reports, they were a happy family—one that was torn part by tragedy.”
An image of her parents’ car after the accident appeared.
Laney felt lightheaded. Mike continued a quick recitation of her upbringing under the care of a Roman Catholic priest. The first twenty years of her life were summed up in two minutes.
“But while Delaney’s upbringing may have been unusual, it was nothing compared to what was to come.”
An African-American man appeared on the screen, and Laney recognized him. He was one of the men from Montana. “Oh, sure,” he said. “I remember her. How could I forget her? She’s the reason I’m alive.” The man then launched into the tale of how Laney helped the captives escape the enclosure.
That story then segued into an interview with the US diplomat to Ecuador, who recounted Laney’s role in helping the Shuar people. He concluded by saying, “I have no doubt that without Delaney McPhearson’s involvement, the Shuar people would have suffered even greater losses. She is a hero.”
A short commercial break was followed by interview after interview, each of them celebrating Laney’s heroic deeds.
Laney stared at the screen in mute horror, but Mike Wallace just smiled. “And that brings us to her latest heroic deed—on the Francis Scott Key Bridge in Baltimore, Maryland.”
A video of the accident played. The recording was apparently taken by someone standing on the bridge, but on the other side from where the accident took place.
“Did you see someone taping?” Jake asked.
“No.” Laney watched as she vaulted out of her car toward the bus. The scene replayed exactly as she remembered it and as the news chopper had shown. But the news chopper had focused primarily on the school bus; this camera operator never strayed from Laney.
Who took this?
By keeping Laney in the shot at all times, this video showed two things very clearly: that the bus fell off the bridge just as she dropped her hands; and that when the tanker blew, her movements coordinated perfectly with the movement of the flames and shrapnel off the bridge.
Oh no.
The TV cut back Mike Wallace in the studio, a frame of the video frozen on the wall next to him. It showed Laney kneeling on the bridge with Cleo at her side. “So, just who is Delaney McPhearson? One thing is obvious: she is a hero. But I think she is also so much more than that.”
A new still filled the screen: Laney in the cats’ enclosure, standing at the top of the hill, the cats lined up on either side of her as if posed. Mike Wallace’s voice accompanied the picture. “Delaney McPhearson has saved hundreds, maybe a thousand lives. And she has done so without drawing any attention to herself. But who exactly is she? And what incredible gifts does she have? I think it’s time for America—no, the world to find out.”
No one said a word as Henry shut off the TV. Laney just stared at it, feeling completely exposed. Her life had just been laid bare for everyone to see.
“Laney?” Jen asked quietly.
Laney pulled her gaze from the dark TV screen to Jen’s concerned face. “I—I—” She went silent. She couldn’t form a thought.
“How did they get all that?” Jake asked. “Somebody had to have led them through each incident, telling them what to look for.”
“I’ll get everyone on it,” Henry said. “We’ll find out who’s behind this.”
Inside, Laney knew it didn’t matter who was behind it. The world now knew she was different.
Her life was never going to be the same again.
CHAPTER 26
The press showed up at the estate almost as soon as the show had ended. Henry had ordered that no one from the press be allowed in, and no one was to say anything but a polite yet firm “no comment.”
Laney was unaware of the press encampment until she woke the next morning and found a text from Henry warning her to keep her head down. She groaned. Great. Now I’m a prisoner. There was also a note from Jake on the nightstand, explaining that he was off to oversee security for both the estate and the school.
She leaned back against the headboard trying to figure out what that left for her to do. This situation couldn’t last too long, could it? Another story would come along and push her out of the spotlight. She just had to wait it out. It would be annoying, but they’d lose interest soon, especially if they got nothing from her.
After a quick shower and change of clothes, Laney headed down to the kitchen, where she spied her laptop on the counter. She eyed it as she waited for her coffee. It was as if it was calling to her: Come on, Laney, come see what everyone’s saying.
She sighed. Fine. I’ll just see how big a ruckus all this has caused and then get on with my day. She pulled out a chair
at the counter, opened the laptop to a search engine, and typed in “Delaney McPhearson.”
She got five million hits.
With a shaky hand, she clicked on the news stories. Her jaw dropped as she read the first few headlines.
Miracle on the Francis Key Bridge
Wonder Woman Discovered
Delaney McPhearson, the World’s First REAL Superhero
And those were from the mainstream news wires. On the more out-there news wires, the headlines got even crazier:
Delaney McPhearson: The Alien Connection
The Second Coming?
The Rise of a Superwoman
The Gods Walk Among Us
Of course there were a couple of cool heads among the crowd, but they were paid very little attention when compared with their more excited counterparts.
Laney shook her head in disbelief. Barring those few outliers, all the articles seemed to be arguing the same thing: that she was some sort of mythical heroine with the powers of the gods. There were debates as to the origins of her abilities, from the New Age hypothesis that meditation was responsible, to the truly comic book-inspired theory that she was the victim of a chemical plant spill.
Laney sat at the counter going through page after page. Her image had been altered in some to depict her in a leotard and cape. In others she had a golden halo around her head. One site was set up basically as a fan club; they called themselves the McPhearsonites, and apparently had thousands of members.
There were also tons of news clips and YouTube videos where people excitedly reported having personally seen her perform miracles. One woman claimed Laney had flown into her burning house and saved her granddaughter. Another man claimed she had singlehandedly stopped his car from going over a cliff. Another claimed he had seen Laney and then, just a few minutes later, won thousands of dollars in a scratch-off game. Laney’s disbelief grew as all these people she’d never seen before attributed their good fortune to simply catching a glimpse of her.
By the end of two hours, Laney’s temples throbbed. Had the world gone nuts? Did people actually believe this stuff, or were they just trying to get their own fifteen minutes?
Laney wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. Her world was being dissected. Pictures of her were being pored over by complete strangers looking for signs of her saintliness or alien-ness. Viewing totals for the TV broadcast weren’t available yet, but an online version of “the McPhearson segment” had gone viral. It was already at fifty million views and climbing.
Laney wrapped her sweater tighter around herself, feeling exposed. This was insane. Her anonymity was now a thing of the past. She wasn’t ready to face all of this. It was too much.
And with that thought, she realized exactly who she wanted to talk to about it.
CHAPTER 27
Laney walked down the long hall at the SIA facility. Hanz ran his card over the scanner at the door. “He’s in the courtyard.”
“Thanks,” Laney said as she stepped inside. She crossed the room and went through the open door at the back into a small, walled-in courtyard. Green grass and a small plastic patio set were all that offered color. It was an unusual spot for the world’s only immortal.
Cain stood up from the table, his black eyes glittering. He smiled and held out his hands. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Placing the takeout bag on the table, Laney placed her hands in his, surprised yet again at the direction their relationship had taken. He was Cain, the world’s first murderer. When Laney had first learned of him, she was chasing him down to prevent him from harming her mother.
And now? Now, he was like her own personal guru, her sounding board. But she didn’t question it; she just went with it. Because more than anyone on this planet, he had helped her truly understand what it meant to be the ring bearer—and what the cost might be.
She squeezed his hands before pointing at the bag. “I brought coffee and Danish.”
Cain gestured for her to take a seat, then pulled out a coffee. He took a sip and let out a heartfelt sigh. “Oh, that is good. You’re spoiling me.”
Laney looked around his prison. “I don’t know about that.”
“This?” He shook his head. “Do you know, these last months that I’ve been in here, I have been me, really me, for the first time in a millennium? Do you know how freeing that is? I don’t have to hide who I am. I don’t have to look over my shoulder or worry. I’m at peace.”
Laney studied him, but she got no sense that he was lying. He did seem at peace. There was a healthy glow to his Mediterranean complexion, his dark hair was neat and tidy, and he seemed serene.
“But I sense you’re not as peaceful,” he said. “I saw the broadcast.”
Laney groaned. “I think everyone saw the broadcast.”
“Has it been bad?”
“You could say that. The media has been camped outside the estate. I only managed to get here because I took the chopper.”
“I’m honored.”
Laney pulled an apple Danish from the bag and took a bite. She placed another one on a napkin in front of Cain, who nodded his thanks. They ate in companionable silence.
Finally, Cain wiped the side of his mouth and spoke. “So, who pointed Mike Wallace toward you?”
Jake’s comment from last night repeated in Laney’s mind. Somebody had to have led them through each incident, telling them what to look for. “I don’t know. And I don’t know why.”
Cain frowned. “It wasn’t one of your people?”
“I don’t see how. The people who know about those events—they’re the people I trust the most in the world. Henry, Jake, Jen, my uncle, the Witt brothers. No one else knows all the details.”
“Surely someone must—”
“No. Not at Chandler. We make sure that the people working on each Fallen incident haven’t worked on previous ones. We don’t want anyone to have the full picture. I suppose someone could piece everything together, but it would require a lot of work.”
Cain studied her for a long moment. “And this happened shortly after Samyaza reappeared.”
Laney looked at him in surprise. “Samyaza? Why would you think it’s her? I mean, as much as I hated the piece, at least it was positive. I can’t see why she’d want to start a fan club for me. Do you know I have a fan club by the way? They’re called the McPhearsonites.”
A smile lurked at the edges of Cain’s mouth. “Well, that’s a horrible name, but I’ll have to see if I can join.”
“Ha, ha—very funny. But seriously, why would Samyaza want any of this?”
Cain shrugged, but Laney caught the worry on his face. “Perhaps I’m wrong, but the timing is suspect. And I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Laney didn’t believe in coincidences either. But Samyaza? “I just can’t see what she would have to gain by all of this. It doesn’t benefit her.”
“Ah, but that is the problem with Samyaza.” Cain took another sip of his coffee. “You don’t see her angle until it is too late.”
CHAPTER 28
Back at the estate, Laney felt restless. She couldn’t go anywhere, couldn’t even visit the cats, not with a small media circus outside the gate. She was in Henry’s office looking for something to occupy her, but she couldn’t find the papers she thought she’d left here. Did I take them back to my cottage?
Her phone rang, and she grabbed it. Luckily—and almost miraculously—no one in the press had gotten hold of her private number. If they ever did, she’d have to get rid of her phone. She felt isolated enough as it was.
“Delaney?” It was Jerry from the front gate.
“Hi, Jerry. What’s going on?”
“There’s someone at the front gate who wants to speak with you.”
Laney imagined it was someone from the media. “Who is it?”
“His name is Kai Dawson. He says he’s a friend of someone named Aaliyah. He said she doesn’t have a last name.”
That came as a surprise. “Have
you searched him?”
“Yes. No weapons. And he doesn’t look like one of the media types.”
“Okay. Can you escort him to the main house? I’ll meet you at the back veranda.”
“Will do. Be there in five.”
Laney made her way down the stairs, wondering at this unexpected arrival. Aaliyah had never mentioned a Kai, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Was he a member of Honu Keiki? Had Aaliyah sent him? Was she in trouble?
She went out to the back patio. The security cart was already crossing the yard toward her, and in the passenger seat was a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and a definite Polynesian look. He looked back at her intently but she got no other readings from him. He wasn’t a Fallen or a nephilim—just a regular human.
The cart stopped, and Jerry nodded at her. “You want me to wait?”
Laney shook her head as Kai got out. “No, we’ll be okay.”
Jerry turned the cart and headed back to the main gate.
Kai climbed the stairs to the veranda, and Laney held out her hand. “Kai? I’m Delaney McPhearson.” She could see the exhaustion on his face. And the fear.
Laney shook her hand. “Aaliyah has told me about you. She respects you a great deal.”
“And I her. Is she all right?”
“I’m not sure.”
Laney gestured to the table behind her. “Perhaps you can tell me what’s going on.”
Laney took a seat, and Kai sat across from her. “I am—was a member of Honu Keiki.”
“You were exiled?”
Kai’s face was tight. He gave her an abrupt nod. “Yes.”
“How long ago was that?”
“It’s been just over a week. But every night I spoke with Aaliyah. Until four nights ago. I haven’t been able to reach her since.”
