by Toby Tate
The hardest part was getting access to the nuke. Those weren’t easy to come by, even with the chaotic state of current world affairs. But he had managed to find a backpack nuke from some shadowy individuals, and an American-made one, at that. The senator had recruited a few greedy, unscrupulous arms dealers, convincing them that the Lilitu could be an invaluable asset on the battlefield if they could be brought under control. He had proven her cunning by releasing her in a populated area.
They saw dollar signs and most of them detested Manhattan and New York, anyway. They would let Lilith do her thing, let her repopulate Manhattan, quarantine the island, then go in and get all the Lilitu they wanted. Train them for battle, sell them for millions as the perfect destroyers.
Basically, Clayburn had been playing both sides of the street, as it were.
But the big-mouthed bastard, Kramer, one of Lilith’s many boyfriends, had been recruited into her little “club” and then decided at the last minute to cut and run when he discovered he didn’t have the stomach. Unfortunately, Clayburn didn’t move fast enough to eliminate that problem.
The senator was not proud of what he had done, but you had to hand it to him—he had almost pulled off quite a feat. If he had to do it all over again, he would probably choose a different path and not slept with Lilith. But how could any man resist such a temptation? Clayburn had watched boys and men become weak in the knees from looking at Lilith ever since she was a teenager. It was animal passion, an insatiable desire she induced that simply could not be denied.
Clayburn recalled the time several boys from the high school football team had made unwanted advances on Lilith when she was just sixteen. She had been on the cheerleading squad and somehow they had cornered her after a game. She was the only girl left in the girl’s locker room—there was no chance of escape. They boxed her in like a pack of wild dogs surrounding a lone fox.
Every single boy had ended up in the hospital with multiple fractures and internal injuries. Clayburn had received angry calls from several parents and even the school about that particular incident, but in that case, he felt she had been justified. So had her brother, John, who had congratulated her on a job well done. He had hated jocks and enjoyed hearing they had gotten their asses kicked by a girl.
Then Lilith had begun searching for herself, looking for meaning in her life, her powers. She found it in the extremist environmental movement. She detested human kind, even her own humanity, and decided that her powers could best be used in advocating for the rights of animals.
But soon, peaceful protests evolved into violent brawls and attempted assassinations. It continued over the years, with Clayburn doing everything he could to keep Lilith out of the government’s crosshairs, throwing them a bone now and then in the form of a “crazy loner” who could be set up to take the fall for Lilith and her impulsive actions.
Then her own brother had turned her in. Clayburn had to do some fast thinking. He decided to play along as the concerned father, pretending to help the CIA in their investigation of her.
But like a house of sticks, lie was built upon lie and eventually those sticks would buckle under the pressure and come tumbling down. Call it karma, call it bad luck, call it whatever you wanted—this time there was no one to take the fall, only James Clayburn. But he had always been aware this day may come and he was prepared.
The senator opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a document, laid it flat on his desk, smoothed it with his hand and looked it over.
Satisfied, he reached inside his suit coat, grabbed a black Glock 19 out of its holster, stuck the barrel in his mouth and squeezed the trigger.
CHAPTER 93
Plum Island Animal Disease Center, Plum Island, Connecticut
One week later
Lilith was enclosed in a steel-barred cage guarded by several men in dark clothing with MK16s strapped to their backs, arms crossed in front of them like military interrogators.
But the real interrogators were the ones with the white masks and the scalpels, and the questions they had could only be answered by slicing, probing and inspecting under a microscope. They would get their answers, but it would take time—lots of time.
Not far away was an incubation chamber illuminated by a heat lamp. Inside the chamber was a bowling-ball-sized egg, slimy and gelatinous. A small, shadowy mass could be seen through the egg’s translucent, outer membrane as it pulsated with life. Soon, the egg would hatch and creatures never before seen by science would emerge. The creatures could answer a million questions about evolution, about creation, about life itself and perhaps offer man a true glimpse into the Earth’s past. It was more than a living fossil—it was a living myth.
Inside the cage, Lilith was sprawled out and secured to a huge, stainless steel table while the scientists did their work, cutting open her tough, resilient flesh and peering in at her internal organs. Plastic tubes ran to various parts of her body, keeping her sedated, feeding her the necessary nutrients and oxygen to keep her alive and removing the waste products. Machines beeped and hummed outside the cage, taking readings on her bodily functions, alerting the team of any abnormalities or fluctuations.
None of the scientists on the team noticed when a single, perfect tear formed in the corner of Lilith’s right eye, trickled down the side of her enormous head and fell soundlessly to the floor.
EPILOGUE
River City, North Carolina
Hunter had his ear to Lisa’s belly as she sat on the couch in their family room, listening intently, trying to detect even the faintest sound.
“I think I heard something,” he whispered.
“What do you hear?” Lisa asked, squealing like a schoolgirl.
“Hang on, hang on,” Hunter said, holding up a palm. “It’s tapping.”
“Tapping?”
“Yeah. It sounds like Morse Code.” Hunter started spelling out the letters. “H-E-L-P M-E, I-T-S D-A-R-K I-N H-E-R-E.”
Lisa slapped Hunter on top of the head in mock disgust.
“Oh, you think you’re so funny,” she said.
Hunter stood up, rubbing his head. “Hey, don’t damage the brain cells, baby.”
“They’re already damaged.”
Hunter plopped down next to her. “What did the doctor say?” he asked.
“It’s too early to tell the sex, but it looks healthy. We should know in a few weeks if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“Have you still been feeling sick?”
“No, that’s pretty much past. Now I just feel bloated.”
Hunter’s eyes wandered down her trim, athletic body. “Well, you still look great. They say sex with a pregnant woman is the best sex.”
Lisa smiled demurely, gazing into Hunter’s dark eyes. “Oh, is that what they say?”
Hunter nodded and felt himself starting to get warm under the collar. They shared a passionate kiss and he thought that nothing in his whole life had ever felt this good. When they finally came up for air he took a few minutes to catch his breath, leaned back and closed his eyes in satisfaction.
“Well, so much for your story, huh?” Lisa said.
“The real story anyway. Hell, even the mayor of New York doesn’t know the whole story. Sometimes I feel like Baron Munchausen, just a guy with a bunch of fairytales nobody’s ever going to believe.”
“I believe you,” Lisa said.
“That’s reassuring.”
“Well, how do you know I wasn’t just part of your dream?”
“Honey, you are my dream.”
“You always know what to say, don’t you?”
There was a long silence as they sat on the sofa holding each other and Hunter thought about how to bring up the phone call he had received last night. He figured being straightforward was the best tactic.
“By the way, I have some news,” he said.
Lisa furrowed her brow and stared up at Hunter.
“Good or bad?”
“I guess you would call it good, depending.”
“Depending on what?”
“On whether I accept the job or not.”
Lisa sprang up, nearly smacking Hunter on the chin with her head.
“You got a job offer? From who? You haven’t applied for any jobs.”
“Looks like winning all those awards at the newspaper for the past five years have paid off. The American Wire Service called last night and wanted to know if I was interested in trying out as a full-time correspondent. No cubicle, no commute—just work from home. There would be travel involved, but it would probably mean a substantial raise, too. There’s a ninety-day trial period, but I’m pretty confident that I could get through that.”
“Hunter that’s amazing! Are you going to accept?”
“Well, I like to keep my options open. Of course, I could be persuaded to take the job if a certain someone were to offer sexual favors.”
Lisa reached down, grabbed Hunter by the hand and led him into the bedroom.
* * *
Sitting in a neighborhood bar in Boston, a man stared into his drink and thought about the last week and his own death and subsequent resurrection. In fact, there was no doubt in his mind that he had been dead, though there was no bright light, at least not that he could remember. No long-deceased relatives coming to greet him at the pearly gates. He doubted very much that he would ever see any pearly gates, anyway. It just wasn’t in the cards. Not for him. His allegiances lie elsewhere.
He remembered swimming into Manhattan, dragging himself up onto shore, then trekking through the streets and marveling at the utter destruction caused by Hurricane Alex. Driven by rage to his ultimate destination, he slept next to fallen trees or on park benches for the next couple of days, watching as emergency vehicles sped past on their way to hopefully save someone. He had been amazed that anyone was still alive.
Then, he had been killed. Actually, slaughtered would be more descriptive.
Yet here he was.
The man took a drink of the Seagram’s Seven and Seven, the alcohol burning his throat like it was sterilizing his esophagus on the way down. It felt warm in his stomach and his head was feeling light, as if he could fly. Maybe he could. There was no telling what he was capable of with these newly acquired powers. It must have been the uranium that had done it, he figured. Had to be.
But he needed to be smart. He had to be shrewd and use his powers cleverly, instead of ripping people’s heads off and demanding obeisance, though he would enjoy that, he would have to lay low for a while.
It seemed he had also discovered a new purpose in life, a new directive, given to him in a dream. Several dreams, actually. Dreams that he knew were not dreams at all, but messages, directions laid out in detail. It wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about something bigger…much bigger. It would mean liquidating his considerable assets, but it could be done. He was sure his business partners would squabble about it, but what could they do? He owned fifty-one percent of the company, which made him essentially the boss. He would sell off his stocks and his holdings, put it together with the millions in his offshore accounts and begin his rather formidable task. The task given to him by them. It would probably take a few weeks to put everything together and then it would only be a matter of months before construction was completed. By the time anyone figured out what was going on, it would be too late.
He took another swig, set the glass down.
He thought about Hunter Singleton, the smug bastard. Something would have to be done about that asshole. Killing him would be satisfying, but much too easy. No, he needed to suffer, to pay for his arrogance. Hunter needed to feel the pain of loss, the torture of knowing that something you love has been ripped away from you. Like it had been from him.
But there was time. He would plan it all out well in advance, get the proper funds together, the right people. He could make it work. He had the brainpower and the physical power, the best of both worlds. He was still human, but also much more. He was a vessel; a vessel with a purpose. He was going to unleash powers upon the earth that had not been witnessed since the dawn of time. He was the key to a lock that would soon be unlocked. What waited behind the door was a reality that was both beyond imagination and beyond terrifying.
That made the man smile as he downed the last of the Seven and Seven. The whole thing sounded like arrogant boasting and maybe a little cliché, but it was all true. All of it.
Now it was time to go.
He turned and slowly scanned the bar. Poor, pathetic creatures, partying and living it up while a darkness they couldn’t possibly comprehend was about to close in around them. They had no idea what would soon happen to their world. Enjoy your puny, worthless lives while you can, he thought, then turned back to the table and pulled out a fifty dollar bill, threw it down. His head was reeling with the alcohol and he knew he probably shouldn’t be driving. But what the hell, he was a god, right? Who needs a car? He could snap his fingers and teleport himself instantly if he wanted. But he didn’t.
He took one last look around, scoping out some of the women, sunglasses hiding his silver eyes. The human females were looking pretty good tonight, but he just wasn’t feeling in the mood. His libido would have to wait. Right now, there were more important things to do. Climbing out from behind the booth, Lawrence Hendricks aimed himself toward the front door of the bar and headed out into the world.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Toby Tate has been a writer since about the age of 12, when he first began writing short stories and publishing his own movie monster magazine. Lilith is his second novel.
An Air Force brat who never lived in one place more than five years, Toby joined the Navy soon after high school and ended up on the east coast of the U.S. Toby has since worked as a cab driver, a pizza delivery man, a phone solicitor, a shipyard technician, a government contractor, a retail music salesman, a bookseller, a cell phone salesman, a recording studio engineer, a graphic designer and a newspaper reporter. Toby is also a songwriter and musician. He currently lives with his family near the Dismal Swamp in northeastern North Carolina.
Find out more about Toby and his other books, as well as his music, on the web at www.tobytatestories.com and on Facebook, Twitter and MySpace.
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
PART ONE: STORMBRINGER
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
PART TWO: REVELATIONS
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
PART THREE: LILITH
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
PART FOUR: METAMORPHOSIS
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
PART FIVE: RESCUE
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Epilogue
About the Author
About the Publisher
