by Ren Hamilton
“You went against the wishes of your superiors and made an emergency pilgrimage to earth, taking the other four members of your band with you. Before you reached your destination, your exit path was blocked. You could neither proceed to earth, nor return from whence you came. You were trapped.”
Shep fiddled with the lace of his sneaker. He no longer looked amused. He looked shattered, staring at the floor with his brows pinched tight.
“Is that a correct interpretation of your plight, or has history muddied the facts?”
A soft breath left Shep’s lips. “Close. Pretty damn close.”
Patrick wasn’t sure what the priest was trying to achieve. Perhaps he was stalling, keeping Shep distracted. It wasn’t a bad plan. If they could keep Shep from murdering them before the cavalry came, that’d be great.
Shep blinked slowly and took a deep breath. His expression remained anguished, as though just hearing the tale repeated had awoken something deep inside of him. It was only a slight waver in his resolve, but it was there. Carbone must have seen it too, as he pressed on.
“The book I read said Powers aren’t allowed to see the creator. Is that true? You never actually saw God?”
“God?” Shep let out a high-pitched cackle. “You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about. It’s adorable.”
Father Carbone shrugged. “I haven’t seen God either, so I reckon we’re on equal footing.”
“Oh, sure,” Shep said, voice laden with sarcasm. “You and me, Carbone. Same-same.”
Carbone grinned slightly. “You say I have no idea what I’m talking about, but I have spent many years studying spirituality. I didn’t just decide to slap on a white collar for the free wine and wafers. I’ve gained knowledge; I’m not flying blind here.”
Shep laughed hard. “You’ve got delusions of grandeur. Like all who appoint themselves guardians of the truth, yet know nothing. You think I had no power in my prior life? I had the most important fucking job there is. Do you have any idea what the celestial byways are?”
“Not exactly,” Carbone admitted.
“They exist in between.”
“In between what?”
“In between everything. Worlds, dimensions, universes. Things come for The Light because it shines, it soothes, it makes warmth, and radiates ecstasy. Everyone and everything wants to grab a piece. I’ve seen things crawl out of other realms that would make your mind snap in seconds. We banish them, and others take their place. They keep coming forever. And we keep fighting them off forever. So yes, Father Carbone, I know quite a bit more than you do. I’ve guarded that creator essence up close.”
“And now you’ve tried to recreate that essence in Joey?” Carbone shook his head. “You think that frat boy upstairs is divine now?”
“Yes.”
Carbone sputtered, clearly not expecting that answer. “How on earth can you think such a thing?”
“The Light is addictive. I’ve made Joey addictive as well.”
“But surely not in the same way!” Carbone said. “You’ve merely found a way to use whatever power still resides within you to morph Joey into some twisted…warped version.”
“Yeah, I did.” Shep grinned. “And eventually all of humanity will flock to him. They’ll be drawn to his essence first, before they even learn how much they need him.”
“Need him for what?” Robin asked. “Advice on how to do tequila shots?”
Shep turned to Robin. “Do you know what’s going to go through the minds of everyone on earth when the babies stop coming?”
Robin shivered, but said nothing.
“There’s nothing like the smell of extinction to get the masses looking for miracles,” Shep said. “Of course, the human race won’t really be becoming extinct. They’ll just think they are because of the sudden widespread fertility problems. They’ll go into a panic. They’ll think the human race is being gradually snuffed out. The beginning of the end. They’ll be begging for answers. And Joey will have those answers.”
Carbone’s face hardened. “What answers?”
“The cure, Father Carbone. Cast your mind, many years into the future. You all remember Joey Duvaine, the reluctant prophet who refused to divulge secrets given to him by an apparition on a church roof? Well folks, Joey’s back. You see, it seems that this little extinction problem was exactly what the apparition spoke to Joey about on that fateful night. And how to resolve it when the time came.”
“That’s fucked up,” Patrick said. “You’re going to solve a problem you yourself created.”
Shep smiled at him. “The apparition predicted the fertility problems, and blessed Joey with the knowledge that when the time came, he would be the one to save the human race.”
“The apparition predicted nothing because it was a fucking hoax!” Patrick said.
Shrugging, Shep said, “But there’s no proof it was a hoax. People will have no choice but to believe. And if the masses follow Joey, worship Joey, and listen to his truths, he’ll give them the formula for the cure. That is what we will tell them, and that is what they will believe.”
“Why would anyone believe that without proof?” Robin said. “If you’ve already got the cure, people will just assume Joey’s a genius, which he actually is. They’ll assume he figured it out with science, and be grateful. No one’s gonna fucking worship him, Shep.”
Shep chuckled, green eyes gleaming. “Of course they will. When they witness with their own eyes something unexplainable by science. Something divine. Something…miraculous.”
Robin scowled. “Like what?”
“Yes,” Carbone said. “Like what?”
“Oh.” Shep’s brows rose as he looked at the priest. “Don’t have all the answers after all, your holiness?”
Patrick swallowed hard. He thought of Wesley Shepherd, and took a guess. “People will believe he’s divine because he’ll have stopped aging.”
Shep’s head whipped around and he frowned deeply at Patrick, his cheeks flushing bright red. “How…how did you guess that?”
A pain poked at Patrick’s temple. “Where’s Joey now?”
“How did you guess that, Obrien?”
“I feel Joey right now. Shep I swear I feel…something. He might have hurt himself.”
“Bullshit. He’s drinking on the deck. He probably passed out and fell over. I asked you a question, Obrien. How did you guess about the aging?”
Patrick regretted speaking up. His head felt woozy from Shep’s punch, and he wasn’t thinking straight. He should have kept his mouth shut. There was only one way he’d have learned of such things, and he didn’t want to throw Wesley J. Shepherd under the bus. He still recalled the terror in the young blond man’s eyes. Or rather, the young appearing blond man’s eyes. No one was more frightened of Shep than Wesley, and Patrick had to assume he had good reason to be. He mustn’t point Shep’s brain in that direction.
“I don’t know,” Patrick said. “I just guessed. Joey’s been treating his body like a sewer since the apparition hoax. He’s drunk every day, but he still looks great. Better than ever, like he’s got a glow. I’ve known him for ten years and seen how pale and pasty he gets when he’s hungover. But now he’s all rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, even after chugging rum like water. It just seemed…off.”
Shep frowned at him, and Patrick prayed he was buying it. He still looked suspicious. “Joey doesn’t look that different. He’s only twenty-eight, and he’s always looked good. That’s quite a leap, Obrien.”
Patrick leaned forward, giving Shep a smarmy grin even though it caused his bruised cheek some pain. “Well maybe you gave me a little psychic ability when we became blood brothers, Shepherd. Maybe I can read your mind now.”
“You wish. Your skull’s too thick for telepathy. And you’re too stupid to have figured things out on your own, so I must surmise it was, in fact, just a good guess.”
“God, you’re such an asshole,” Robin muttered. “Patrick’s not stupid.”
Shep glared at her. “I’ve been best friends with him for ten years. You just rode his cock a few times. Trust me, he’s stupid. And so are you.”
“Fuck you,” Robin said.
“No thanks. After you fucked Obrien? You couldn’t pay me to put my dick in you again.”
“Hey, hey,” Carbone said. “Before you start losing your temper and get off track, tell me, what do you get out of all of this? I’m curious. What’s the payoff for you, Shepherd?”
Patrick was silently grateful to the priest, who stepped in to distract Shep each time his anger began to rise.
Shep scowled at Robin a moment longer, then slowly turned to Carbone. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“The infertility and being the only one with the magical cure and all that. Joey gets to play God, something I’m sure he enjoys. But what do you get out of it, personally?”
Shep’s chin lifted. “Focused positive energy in large groupings creates something very valuable to The Light. Essential. With my universally adored messiah as the focal point of humanity’s very survival, all that precious, essential energy The Light depends on, will now be under my control.”
“Sounds like a hostage situation,” Carbone said.
Shep smiled. “Yes it does, doesn’t it?”
“This is all about proving you can take control, then. That you’re so crafty you can even take The Light’s essential energy sources and direct them however you want.”
Cracking his knuckles, Shep looked pleased with himself. “They all thought I wasn’t adept enough to control things on this planet. Well, now the creator itself is gonna have to knock on my door if it wants a juice box. Guess I’ve got the last laugh.”
“Jesus, Shep,” Patrick said, his wounded cheekbone throbbing. “Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always taken things way too far.”
“Too far? My superiors fucked me over. They twisted my ideas and made me look like an idiot to The Light. I’m defending my name here.”
“Did it never occur to you to just let this…ancient grudge go?” Patrick said. “Count your blessings that you’ve got a life at all? That you’re free from imprisonment now?”
“Fuck no,” Shep said. “This wasn’t some minor infraction, Obrien. My superiors didn’t call me bad names or forget my birthday. They plotted to have me tossed in the void of nothingness for all time.”
Patrick started a retort, then went silent. Shep did have a point.
“Do you get that? They wanted me and my beloved brothers trapped forever. I ain’t letting that shit go. Those bitches are about to find out.”
“Will they retaliate against you?” Patrick asked. “Your superiors?”
“They wouldn’t dare. I’ll be holding all the cards.”
“Won’t The Light itself stop you?” Carbone asked. “If you try to limit and control its energy source?”
“The Light?” Shep laughed. “Stop me?”
“Well, yes. The Light will certainly notice what you’ve done. Won’t there be more punishment? Like Patrick suggested, perhaps you should just cut your losses, if the last reprimand you received is any indicator.”
“The Light will notice, sure.” Shep rolled his eyes. “Because I will have proven that my idea about controlling the flow via personally crafting leaders was workable. I will have far exceeded what anyone thought I could achieve. Succeeded where they told me I would fail. The Light will see that I knew best all along. The Light will want to take me back.”
The room fell completely silent. It was such a simple, borderline childish statement. And yet, Shep seemed one hundred percent, assuredly serious about it.
“Take you back?” Patrick said.
Shep nodded.
“Hang on, did I hear you right?” Father Carbone let out a shocked laugh. “Take you back? You want to blackmail The Light into…taking you back?”
“Not blackmail!” Shep frowned at the priest. “The Light will ask me to return out of admiration, upon my inarguable success.”
Carbone stared at him. “And you’re convinced this will happen. That The Light will want you to take you back.”
“Of course. Once I get its attention.” He snorted a laugh. “Which I will, obviously. The Light will see that I have succeeded in spite of unfathomable hardship. I’m the most valuable player on the team. The Light will want me back in.”
All four of them seated against the wall simply stared at Shep. Patrick was waiting for him to laugh, and say ‘Gotcha!’ or crack a joke. But no. Shep was being serious. He truly believed what he was saying. It was frightening, and more than a little sad.
Father Carbone shook his head. “Um, Shepherd, or Zirub, or whatever you like to be called…”
“Shepherd is fine.”
“Okay, Shepherd then. Do you honestly think that The Light is going to take you back after all you’ve done? You’ve committed multiple murders! You’ve committed atrocious sins!”
“So?”
“So? You’ve caused pain and suffering to innocent people. The Light will not take you back.”
Shep pointed at Father Carbone, his eyes ablaze. “The Light will take me back, or I’ll take this world and I will crush it!”
“So you do want to eliminate humanity after all.” Robin yawned like she was bored. “Burn it all down because you can’t have your way. Like a scorned lover shouting ‘If I can’t have you, no one will.’ Pretty basic of you, really.”
“Maybe,” Shep said. “Or maybe I’ll just eliminate humanity because it’s a damn cesspool.” He grinned. “I’ll be doing the planet a favor.”
“You are completely full of shit,” Patrick said, wincing as face was still throbbing from Shep’s punch.
Shep looked confused, like he must have heard him wrong. “I beg your pardon, Obrien?”
“I said you are completely full of shit. You’ve sure stayed a long time in a place you claim to hate.”
Shep scoffed. “I had to stay here for the brothers. They were still trapped. And now, once my plan is—”
“Blah blah blah, I hate humanity, this life sucks. Bullshit! I’ve known you for ten goddamned years. Don’t try to tell me there’s nothing on this earth you like.”
“Fuck off, Obrien. There isn’t a damn thing I would classify as a world redeeming quality.”
“Chickpeas,” Patrick said.
Shep scratched his head and walked over to stand in front of Patrick. “Chickpeas?”
“Yes, Shep. You like chickpeas. When we were in college, you’d go to the salad bar every day for lunch. You always put three huge scoops of chickpeas on your salad. You’d eat every last one of them, even if you had to dig through the forest of lettuce and shredded carrots to get at the last chickpea.”
“I’m a vegetarian, Obrien. I eat chickpeas for protein, nothing more. Besides, I wouldn’t call chickpeas a world redeeming value.”
“I’m not finished yet,” Patrick said. “You like tie-dye tee shirts. You have like thirty of them in all different colors. You like to smoke weed. You like driving off road in your Jeep. You like having a fireplace in your house. You start lighting it in late September, as soon as the temperature drops a little. You like listening to opera at an obscene volume while you’re cooking. You like sex. You like really bad thunderstorms. You like Robin.”
“Don’t drag me into this,” Robin said.
“You like Robin,” Patrick repeated. “Like her so much you wouldn’t let her go, even after she gave you a clean break. So much that you fucking kidnapped her. Tell me what purpose that served in your great plan.”
Shep rolled his eyes. “Is this coming close to a point any time soon? Because if I have to listen to much more, I’m going to crawl back into the void.”
“My point is Shep, that there is no single redeeming quality to this world. There are lots of little ones. Alone, they’re just chickpeas, but when you put them all together, you get—”
“Hummus?” Shep grinned. “I do like hummus.”
“You get life,
Shep. And you like life. You enjoy it. I don’t think you want to go back to The Light at all. I think you just feel like you should want to, so you’ve created this elaborate bullshit plan so it looks like you’re still fighting back. When in truth, you really just want to stay here. But admitting that would make you feel weak. Small. Human.”
“I’ve been crawling around in human skin far longer than you have Obrien, and I certainly don’t need to listen to you lecture me on what I do and do not like. In fact, I don’t need to listen to you at all. Shut your dumb fucking face.”
Patrick opened his mouth to taunt Shep further, but the breath left him as another pain came, worse this time. A sweat broke out on his forehead and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“What’s wrong with you?” Robin asked.
“Joey’s in pain.”
Shep studied Patrick, eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. Allisto was assigned to watch him, he’s fine.”
“I’m not lying, I can feel it! You can tell if I’m lying to you, asshole! Please untie me. I need to check on Joey.”
Shep pulled out his cell phone and brought it to his ear. “Allisto, where’s Joey?” There was a long pause, then Shep’s jaw stiffened. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t know?”
Two consecutive gunshots rang out from somewhere outside. Shep turned toward the stairs. Oh thank God, Patrick thought. He never thought he’d be so happy to hear gunshots.
Margol came stomping down the stairs. “Shot’s fired!”
“I heard it. Is it on the property?” Shep asked.
“No. It’s coming from that house next door.”
“Where’s Joey?”
“I saw him go for a walk with Carlos, he’s probably out in the field.”
Shep let out a relieved sounding breath. “Are you sure the gunshots came from next door?”
“Yes, the direction of the brown house,” Margol said. “There are lights on in the windows. Somebody is over there.”
Shep chuckled. “Yeah and I’ll bet I can guess who it is. That crazy redneck is back, and this time he won’t be leaving again.”
“Do you want me to go?” Margol asked. “Take care of it?”
“No,” Shep said. “I want to take care of this myself.”
