Rebirth (Cross Book 1)

by Hildred Billings

  “That’s good, because my part-time job isn’t enough to get us through your unemployment and my law schooling.”

  “I know. Plus, I want a job. It’s normal.”

  “Maybe your band will be famous by the end of the summer and you won’t have to worry about money ever again.”

  Wouldn’t it be lovely if he could write and perform songs for the rest of his final life? “Still, I should look for a day job to stay afloat.”

  “Do you want to hear something strange?”

  Devon swallowed anything else he was about to say. “Sure.”

  “When I woke up this morning, the locket they stole from me was on my dresser, like I had brought it with me.”

  “Locket? You mean the one that Danielle gave you?”

  “Yes. That one.”

  Devon chuckled. “I guess it went back to its rightful owner in the end. Take good care of it, okay? Make sure you fill it with your heart. It’s one of two pieces that keeps Earth afloat.”

  They did not say they loved each other, but affection was implied when they hung up. Devon closed his phone and put it back on the coffee table.

  He may end up alone, regardless of how much he loved Danielle or was willing to be with Alicia. Did that bother him? Was it worth living up to Alicia’s fears? Not fair to her, but in the end, Devon would do whatever gave him spiritual pleasure and contentment. He owed at least that much to himself after a thousand years.

  He wondered when he would feel that joy, that assurance from the Process that his soul was freed from indentured servitude. Then again, maybe he had already felt it. As he began writing a song that was inspired by the sun coming through the nearby window, peace bloomed inside his heart.

  ***

  After buying a sandwich from the cafeteria, Danielle joined Troy on a bench in the plaza of M-Town. The only other creatures to keep them company were a small flock of pigeons pecking at the ground and bathing in the fountain a few yards away.

  “Just a sandwich today?” Troy inhaled a salad. “Please don’t tell me you’re on a diet. You already have a smokin’ body.”

  Danielle choked on the first bite of her sandwich. “Is that a come on?” she teased.

  “Heavens no. A tiger can’t change its perfect spots.”

  “I think you mean stripes, right.”

  “Those too!”

  Danielle grimaced at the appearance of mayonnaise. “I’m still really tired.”

  “Big day yesterday?”

  “I saved the fucking world while you were sleeping slash dead.”

  “You’re so full of bullshit. There’s no way I was dead. I would have remembered it.”

  “It got rewound like it never happened, okay? You’re welcome, by the way. I did that.” Danielle took a large bite of her sandwich – mayonnaise or no mayonnaise – so she wouldn’t have to say more. She still barely understood what had transpired. It was like a dream, wasn’t it? One moment she was knocked out in her own apartment, and the next? Waking up in Ireland. Or had that been a dream as well?

  The concept of alternate dimensions, the Void making unsubstantiated changes to multiple universes, and the untapped potential in Processed souls was too much for her to understand. Maybe it had to do with her stubborn nature that refused to see the expanse of existence beyond herself. As in…

  Maybe she was too blinded by her own problems to see the forest through the trees.

  The first fifteen minutes of her lunch break were blissfully normal, with idle chitchat about Troy’s latest dating experiences and his desire to take Danielle to a café in his neighborhood that served the best lemon tea. Just a month before, Danielle would have found it boring, but now she clung to his words in the want for more normalcy in her life.

  Her sandwich was gone by the time Miranda walked into the sunlight of the plaza. She did not regard Danielle as she walked by with her cell phone attached to her ear.

  “Good job. Drop everything to ogle Hottie.” Troy put the rest of his lunch away.

  Danielle leaned back into the bench. “I’m surprised she came to work today after what happened. Woman has enough sick days saved up to take a vacation.”

  “What happened? Did you shoot her?”

  Danielle didn’t have the energy to go over – yet again – what had transpired in the past twenty-four hours. Were those even hours that past? she wondered. Did time stop once the world began to end? She had to say something to Troy, however, and glossed over Miranda’s role in the events. No use clueing Troy in on things he would never understand.

  “Do you still think she’s your enemy?” he asked.

  “What? No. I mean, I don’t think so.” Danielle glanced at the woman sitting on the fountain’s edge, chatting away on her phone. She looked so blasé with reality that it was difficult to comprehend how involved she had been in the most powerful moment of Danielle’s current life. Did Miranda even remember any of it? “I don’t feel threatened by her.”

  “No, that’s not what I said. I asked if you think she’s still your enemy. You don’t have to necessarily feel threatened by your enemy.”

  “I’m not going to worry about her. Unless she starts hitting on me.”

  “You should start hitting on her instead.” When Danielle pursed her lips, Troy continued, “One day, Danielle. One day you will call me, giddy because you got carnal with her.”

  For a fleeting moment, Danielle remembered it all: finding an abused and bloody woman in the dorms, a chat on a terrace overlooking the jungle, a stroll through a busy market street on Terra III, and death in the presence of her family. They all had one thread in common besides belonging to the dormant memories of Sulim’s soul – a woman, dark-haired and lithe, who took beatings on Sulim’s behalf and teased her in front of strangers about her sleeping habits. Danielle remembered for only that one minute, and it was because Troy said a word sounding a lot like how Cairn pronounced her name.

  As if on cue, her cell phone beeped. Danielle flipped it open to reveal Devon’s name.

  “Who is it?” Troy asked.

  She snapped the phone shut again. “Devon. He asked me if we could talk soon.”

  Troy stood up and stretched his arms. “You’re not going to actually date him, right? I mean… he’s not your boyfriend… right?”

  The corner of Danielle’s mouth jerked. “Don’t ever allude to him as my boyfriend again. Ever. There is so much wrong with that I can’t even begin poking it with a really big stick.”

  “Says the woman who thought about it. With tears.”

  “Shut up, Troy,” she mumbled in return. “I may have gotten used to him by now, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Straighty McHeterosexualson.”

  Danielle shoved him toward the fountain. They laughed their way back to their building, where they would finish their lunch hour with coffee and more good-natured ribbing – an atmosphere most welcomed in M-Town, where people had enough on their minds and no desire to delve into the intricacies of the metaphysical realm devouring them. The Void was banished from conversation, even by those wearing the letter F on their lapels. Believers were at peace knowing that they would go Home one day. The skeptics, who had faced their own deaths the day before, continued to question the validity of life after death. Of reincarnation. Of what it meant to be trapped in an endless cycle they could never escape.

  Miranda hung up on her friend and relished in the spray of the fountain hitting her skin. The heat felt good against the long sleeves of her uniform that covered up the healing wounds on her back. But it couldn’t ease the stress of being trapped in that endless cycle always haunting her in the back of her mind.

  The first thing she remembered after the end of the world was waking up in the park with a concerned medic asking her who was president. Miranda spent the rest of her day asleep in her comfortable bed, where she remained until a phone call from M-Town summoned her to work.

  How odd was it to return to her façade of a
life so soon after helping to save Earth? It couldn’t be helped, given the ignorant circumstances of the rest of her Earthling brethren. The weekend approached, anyway. Time to start over and focus on the next phase of her life as Miranda Hotchner, a woman with one final mission: to escape the Process, before infinity claimed her poor old, tired soul.

  That meant helping a certain someone regress and escape the Process as well. They would have to do it together, but oftentimes, that was easier said than done.

  Miranda’s lovely temperament was disrupted by a shadow looming over her.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said.

  Syrfila sat next to Miranda, brushing off dirt from her white uniform. “You are the only person in this entire plaza wearing long sleeves.”

  “You’re the only Marine here.”

  “Eh. It’s an Army and Air Force fest here. Who cares? I command variety.”

  “I heard they’re moving some Air Force offices over to the marina. Test piloting.”

  “I’ll probably end up with a dozen Top Guns on my ship, because the damn government can’t keep the branches apart.”

  “Military segregation gets you off, I see.”

  “Why do you think I infiltrate M-Town so much? It’s fun to see people steel themselves when my hot Marine ass stomps down the street.”

  “You Marines sure are full of yourselves.”

  Syrfila gave no commentary on that. “You seem to be rather chipper today.”

  Miranda gathered her things. “Feels like a whole new life with endless potential.”

  The woman in white followed Miranda around the fountain. “I suppose,” she said. “One laced in fear.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because, dear, your daddy’s no longer around to protect my wanted ass, nor to pay me. So not only will every bounty hunter in the galaxy start showing up to hunt me down like an animal, but I also don’t have any notable funds coming in to finance a way out of here.”

  “How many people even know who you are here?”

  Syrfila pulled out a cigarette. “The really hi-tech bitches have bio-scanners, and you bet my DNA is on file across the Federation. God, I’m screwed.”

  “You’ve got at least a couple of weeks, so you should relax.”

  “Ha!” Syrfila pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. “Relax! What drugs are you on? Besides,” she took another drag of her cigarette, “my idea of relaxing would be going to your place and crashing for the night, if you know what I mean.”

  “Maybe!” Miranda added an extra kick to her step as she spotted the nearest coffee shop.

  “Why the hell are you so happy? Did you kill some kittens?”

  Miranda stopped long enough to turn her head toward Syrfila’s dragging feet and explained, “Because I intend for this to be the last life I ever live.”

  ***

  The closer it came to summer, the hotter it grew. Yet while the afternoons cracked the sidewalks, the evenings were cool enough to go out and enjoy the world for what it was.

  Calm. Peaceful. Docile. Perhaps parts of Earth weren’t as peaceful, but as Danielle emerged from her car, a small bouquet of flowers in her hand, she was grateful to live in a part of the world that allowed her to take in the sweet spring air and crunch the grass beneath her feet.

  Even so, she suffered from paranoia since the events that almost brought about the end of yet another life. Days passing meant she forgot more of the flashbacks that had haunted her. Warnings that she would be forever trapped in the Process if she never regressed remained in the back of her mind, but what good was it to worry when she was so busy making sure everything was as it should be? Her grandmother Regina never insinuated that she noticed a disturbance in the air. Her coworkers continued to bicker about each other’s personalities and who was the most likely to get discharged next. Miranda? She rarely spared Danielle a glance unless it was time for an inspection.

  Like waking up from a dream. Like still walking in that dream world.

  She sauntered to St. Lucia’s Courtyard, hoping to have missed the biggest rush of tourists for the day. The neighborhood was busy for a little after seven, but the sounds of Spanish dialects, the aroma of home cooking – even in neighborhood restaurants – and the feel of warm air on her cheeks drew Danielle closer to the little courtyard boasting one of the most powerful pieces of Earth’s soul.

  It had made the news when St. Lucia suddenly reappeared in its rightful place, as if it had never been disturbed – as if it had never been shrunk when it entered the cosmic Void coming to claim Earth. The smiling jizo statue continued to stand its happy vigil over a neighborhood that had seen more cultural shifts than Danielle’s own existence. She hesitated at the edge of the courtyard. A shadow sat on one of the benches beneath Mrs. Gonzalez’s window. Danielle recognized who it was almost immediately.

  Her hesitation wasn’t because of who she saw, however. It was the large, intimidating Shadow hovering behind Miranda. At first, Danielle’s instincts told her to panic – after she was finished freezing up and pretending she did not exist. That would be her inclination every time she saw a Shadow for the rest of her Processed existence. Why wasn’t Miranda scared shitless, or was she that good at deflecting a Shadow’s desire to consume her soul?

  Instead… she looked as if she absolutely acknowledged the Shadow’s presence. And not only was she comfortable with it, but her only fear was ruining the half-sleep stupor she indulged at the edge of the small courtyard. The Shadow likewise did not advance upon her. It merely stood silent vigil over the daughter of the Head Priest of the Void. Like St. Lucia stood vigil over half of Earth’s collective soul.

  Was that what Miranda was doing, too?

  Danielle remained just around the corner of the cleaner’s. When she looked again, the Shadow was gone, and Miranda remained as contemplative as she had been two seconds ago. Only now a tiny golden butterfly hovered on her shoulder. She did not acknowledge it.

  The small bouquet of flowers trembled in Danielle’s grip.

  She had known that something like this would happen when she came to check on – and offer her thanks to – St. Lucia. Odds were slim that Miranda came here every night. If Danielle had made it first, she would’ve assumed that Miranda was stalking her. Like this, though? With Miranda already meditating on the bench and looking as if she belonged? That was fate.

  The Shadow. It hadn’t been waiting for Danielle. She hadn’t seen one since that now faraway night, although she would see her fair of share of them until the day she finally broke free from the Process.

  If it wasn’t there for her… it was there for Miranda, wasn’t it?

  That only meant one thing. Danielle took a step forward, ignoring Miranda in favor of offering the flowers to St. Lucia’s stony base. It joined a plethora of colorful flower petals already strewn across the grassy ground.

  She said a silent prayer for all the souls decimated over the past thousand years. Don’t know why, she thought, while her eyes were closed and her knees dug into the dry ground, because this thing had nothing to do with it. All St. Lucia had “done” was harbor the collective power of a people who put so much faith into it. The communal Relic, powered by the presence of a mighty soul like Danielle’s. Like Devon’s.

  Like Miranda’s.

  Danielle brushed some dirty debris off St. Lucia’s face. The little statue looked so much like a baby that she worried she would hurt it.

  Finally, she looked up at Miranda. Her eyes were opened, but her demeanor as placid as it had been a few minutes ago. The golden butterfly was gone.

  “Fancy seeing you here.” That’s what Danielle almost said, but the words disappeared in her puffing cheeks. Instead, she joined Miranda on the bench, silent. It was only then that she understood what the other woman had been doing for the past hour.

  A silent vigil, over one of the only things holding Earth together. To think that Alicia had the other piece… that somehow wasn’t as troubling as St. Lucia being out in the
open, even if it was surrounded by the tender generosity of a people who would weep heavy tears to see it disappear again.

  “Do you know what was behind you just now?”

  Danielle’s voice broke the reverent silence of the courtyard. A robin redbreast took off from the disturbance. If only it could remember the disturbance it suffered when it died and was reborn again.

  Miranda’s hands curled in her lap. “An old friend.”

  Those words made Danielle shudder. “It could’ve devoured you.” A feast of endless potential. If Shadows wanted to consume Danielle and Devon, then what could they do to Miranda, the reincarnation of the High Priestess of the Void?

  “They don’t bother me. They’re attracted to me because of what they sense in me, but my face placates them.”

  “Because you look like… her?”

  Miranda offered Danielle a wan smile. “You remember that?”

  Danielle shifted in her seat.

  “But do you… remember?”

  More silence. For every second that passed, a tenuous bond tethered between them. What was it? Comfort? Sadness? A desperate grasp at what may have once been? What could happen again? A wedge, as wide as it was heavy, constantly hitting them until they gave up their constant quests for freedom?

  You’re the key, aren’t you? Danielle thought. To my memories.

  You’re the key, my love. Miranda mused. To unlocking the greatest power in the cosmos.

  “I don’t know how much I should tell you.”

  Miranda leaned back, her chest pushing against the skin-tight blouse hugging her torso. Danielle averted her eyes to those bright amber irises staring into her soul.

  She could stare back, right?

  “Then you don’t remember.” Miranda’s sad smile was accompanied with a wistful sigh. “If you did, you wouldn’t be able to shut up.”

  “You act like you know me so well.”