Blount had fought minions and angels, demons and sirens. Even though all of these creatures were as different as the next, the one thing they all seemed to crave was absolute power—the attainment of their own godhood.
One entity in particular he’d faced long ago, when he’d been a gunslinger, still haunted him from time to time. He’d battled Azazel and prevailed, but the victory had come at a great cost. He’d lost his best friend, Father Nathan Carpenter, and his wife, Sarah.
“ETA, three mike,” a voice squawked in his ear.
Blount adjusted the headphones and repositioned his mic in front of his mouth. “Roger that.” He lifted one side of his headset and slipped a cell to his ear. “Talk to me.”
“Normal instruments can’t penetrate the island’s interference, Viper, but we’ve been using ELDON and have some preliminary intel…”
Blount nodded as he listened. He’d utilized Project ELDON a few times while working for Black Rock, and had been quite pleased with their results. ELDON was composed of indigo children who were endowed with psychic gifts used to remote view. It got its name from its founder, Eldon Shepherd. Known to most in the organization as simply “The Shepherd,” he was one of the most powerful psychics Black Rock had ever known, and he loved the children, nurturing their gifts and protecting them from misuse until the day of his death. Some in the organization wondered if Eldon was a real person. Few had seen him when he was alive—some rumored that he wasn’t even flesh and blood. The outside world knew nothing of him. Actually, to the outside world, Black Rock and its pet project ELDON didn’t exist.
A few minutes later, Blount brought the conversation to a close. “So ELDON is not seeing anything? Am I getting this correct? There’s nothing on that island? Great, guess we’ll find out when we get there.” In frustration, he flipped the cell closed and shoved it back into his cargo pocket. “Well, twins, guess you two are up.”
Two red-haired women sat across from him, identical in every way, wearing the exact same black jumpsuits. They were in their early twenties, but their souls were much older than that. From the age of three, they’d been able to see and feel things other humans could not. Paired together, they were two of the most powerful psychics in the world, and they were good friends of Blount. Actually, they had saved his life more than once, in a past life.
He remembered that well. He remembered all of his past lives, at least this time around. He was aware that, in some lives, he didn’t retain all the memories. In this particular one where the twins had saved him, he’d just finished a stay at a room above the Red Oak Saloon. Downstairs, three jackasses had been waiting to ambush him. The twins came to him in a dream and warned him. Good thing he took all his dreams seriously, never ignoring his gut or intuition.
Blount got the drop on those suckers but good. He slipped out his bedroom window, climbed down the nearby cactus, and came right through the damn front door with guns blaring. That was that. Or so he thought.
He surveyed the damage to the bar—smashed glasses and whiskey bottles, broken bodies on broken tables, blood everywhere. Feeling a bit guilty, he went back into the Red Oak Saloon and walked up to the bar, tossed a stack of bills at the bartender, pulled up a chair, and ordered a drink. He swigged half the whiskey down then took a rest. Wiping the sweat from his face, he sighed.
Next time you need to be a little quicker. Another moment or two, and they would have started up the stairs for you.
Blount drew his pistol and spun around. No one was behind him. No one stood outside the saloon doors either. All seemed quiet, since his gunfire cleared the place. He scratched his head and shrugged. Turning back around, he picked up his drink.
We know you’re a bit rusty. Your new body must be strange.
“Get out of my head!” He realized the voices were inside his mind. The bartender kept his distance, hands trembling, barely able to wash the glass he clutched in his fat fingers.
“We’re sorry,” someone said from the corner.
“We speak without using our mouths, so often we forget.”
In the corner of the barroom, two young, strawberry-haired girls sat at a table. The shadows of the room danced around them as if alive. Blount did not remember seeing them there before. He was pretty sure he’d searched the entire room.
Blount blinked and rubbed his eyes. He got up from his seat and approached the girls slowly, eying them up and down. His fingers brushed against his guns. “I’m seeing double. What kind of witchery is this?”
“It is not witchery.”
“No magic. We are sisters. Twin sisters.”
He studied them a bit more and stepped up to their table. The shadows cleared and he looked at their faces. “You’re the ones I see in my dreams. You warned me about this ambush?”
“Yes, we did,” they said in unison.
“Stop that. It’s unnatural.” He sat down with them. “What’s going on? Why are you saving me?”
“We were sent to you. To help you adjust. We understand it has only been a hundred years since your last life, but we need you to remember who you are. We need to catch you up.”
“Catch me up? What for? And how do you know about my last life? I remember a great fight. Losing those I love. Again. I gotta say, it sucks. Having to start over again and again. Not knowing why or what happened. Who was I? Why was I? It’s a raw deal, girls.”
“We understand your frustration. It is not an easy existence when the universe claims you. You must understand, it is for a greater purpose. It is not just this world that needs you but many—many beings, many realities.”
“Let’s cut the jabbering. Who sent you?”
The twins looked at one another. Uncertainty registered in their eyes. One started to speak then hesitated. Finally, they both answered. “Abdiel sent us.”
Blount strained to remember, to find meaning in this name. He crinkled his forehead, rubbed his face. “Should I know that name?”
“He was there when you defeated Azazel.”
Azazel. AZAZEL. That name he knew. At least, he thought he did. The very uttering of it sent shivers up his spine. It made him uncomfortable. His stomach turned at the thought of the fiend, the murderer, the pain in the ass.
“All of this is filling up my head, and it hurts, girls. Too much, too fast. Enough.” He stood up and pushed in his chair. “Sorry. Tell Abdiel I’m adjusting just fine. I don’t need your help.” He started toward the door.
“We need each other’s help.”
He waved them off and kept walking.
“Azazel will return. He is weak and formless, but growing stronger.”
Blount stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder.
“His minions are looking for you. They’re quite angry at you, as you might imagine. They’re walking the planet while he’s gone.”
“I’ll be sure to watch my back.”
Blount let the saloon doors swing behind him. He mounted his horse and road off, kicking up clouds of dust behind him.
* * *
Blount rode fifty miles before he found another town, yet another dust bowl with barely a population to speak of. There were a few downtrodden farmers, more saloons than the town needed, and a cavalry presence. For what reason, Blount couldn’t be sure.
Just on the outskirts, he was lucky enough to find a small boarding house—Bessie’s boarding house. Bessie had long since died, and her son and his young daughter now ran the place. The owner was a widower, his wife having left this world due to small pox that had hit the town a few years back. Probably explained the lack of population.
He paid the board up front, and turned to head upstairs to his room. The owner’s daughter, Abigail, sat on the foot of the stairs reading her bible. She still wore her Sunday best dress and bonnet, and was the picture of serenity. He stared at the book in her hands and shook his head. He sometimes wondered how anyone kept there faith these days. Seemed their Heavenly Father had jumped ship long ago. If He was out there watching, why d
id he allow it, any of it—the disease, the demons, the world brought to near destruction—to happen again and again. He was tired of it. Blount hoped she didn’t preach the word to him today, for he wasn’t in the mood.
He settled into his room and took to the bed. It has been a long day. The springs creaked and the mattress was uncomfortable, but he didn’t care. Soon enough, he caught himself snoring, as the light of the full moon streamed through the window and illuminated the room.
Get up. Get up. You are in danger. It is nearly on you.
In the dead of night, Blount heard the words in his head. He strained to open his eyes, but his lids felt as if they weighed a ton. A blurry haze greeted him as he tried to focus.
“Girls?”
Now. Get out of bed now.
He lifted his head to see someone standing at the foot of the bed. He recognized the bonnet. “Little girl? What are you…”
She moved toward him, and the moonlight drifted across her face. Her eyes glimmered in the light—enflamed, fierce. She foamed at the mouth, and her chest heaved rapidly. Howling at him, she leapt on the bed like a cat.
Blount tried to reach for his guns on the nightstand ,but he was seconds too late. The girl grabbed his arm and yanked him off the bed. His back hit the nearest wall, and he crashed to the floor. The girl crouched on the bed and growled, while he eyed his guns, which were too far out of his reach now.
He began to pull himself up, but the girl sprung from the bed and collided with him. They crashed to the floor, and she crawled onto his chest, sitting on it. Blount felt as if an elephant was sitting on him. She looked down at him, smiled, and licked his face.
“Azazel sends his regards.”
“Tell him to kiss my ass!”
The door to his room burst open, and the girl’s father appeared. “Abigail! My Holy God, no!”
Abigail turned and leapt from Blount to her father. She forced him against the wall and bit into his throat. Blood splattered the walls.
Blount crawled across the floor, toward his guns. Closer…closer…he could see them now. His fingers came within reach.
The father’s lifeless body came crashing down on the night table, burying the guns. Blount looked up and saw the girl descending on him again. He braced for her attack, curled his hands into fists, and steadied his balance.
He heard creaking on the stairs outside the room. Over the girl’s shoulder, he saw the twins walk into the doorway. They joined hands and closed their eyes, then an aura of light surrounded them, and a beam of energy shot out of the twins, striking the possessed girl. Glass shattered as she went out the window, her cackler echoing in the night.
The light around the twins faded and they opened their eyes. “We told you that you were in danger.”
“That you did.” Blount sighed. He pulled himself to his feet and rolled the body off of his guns.
“It is not safe here,” one twin said.
“There will be more,” said the other. “Come with us.”
“Guess I better start listening to you two, seeing as how this is the second time you’ve saved my hide. Lead on girls.”
The twins led him outside of town to a circle of covered wagons, some tents, and campfires. A dog barked at their approach. Blount read the words on the wagons. “Traveling sideshow. You mean…you girls are in a freak show?”
“Yes, for now.”
“No. You deserve better. This is no life for you.”
“It’s not so bad,” Maya said.
“It is where we are meant to be at this time,” said Nina.
“Listen Maya, Nina, you are not freaks….wait… You never told me your names. How did I know them?” He looked at the twins, and they smiled. “Ah, you two are good. Like I was saying, you’re not freaks. If we agree to help each other, you have to leave this show.”
They smiled again. “Our hero.”
Blount laughed.
They joined a naked tattooed man, a bearded woman, and a dwarf for dinner around the campfire. A cook with one arm made them all a stew with buffalo meat.
“So, other than being exact copies of each other, what else do you do in the show?” Blount asked the twins.
“We levitate objects.” They pointed at the stew pot and it lifted off the fire, hovering in the air for a few moments before lowering back down.
“Very neat trick.”
“It’s a living.” The twins stared into the fire and frowned. “We will have to move on again in the morning. More of the possessed are coming. This town will be overrun soon.”
“I don’t understand it. Any of it. What’s the point? Demons, angels, other realities, other universes, the end of times again and again. Is it some kind of joke? God almighty, what is the point? Speaking of our Lord and savior…where is He? All of this shit goes on for hundreds of years, and he can’t even show his face.”
“He is out there,” the twins said.
“Really? You could have fooled me.”
“God will show. It’s just a matter of which God.”
“What?”
“We are unsure what it means at this time.”
“You two sure are a puzzle.”
“Not everything we receive is always clear. Sometimes it is only in bits and pieces.”
“I guess you can’t have everything, even when you’re special.”
The dogs in camp started barking, setting everyone on edge. Blount cocked his head and heard what might have been thunder, then he realized it was the sound of galloping horses.
“Horses! Ambush!” He jumped to his feet and drew his guns.
Screams filled the camp and chaos ensued. Cavalry roared into the camp, firing on the sideshow, throwing torches onto the covered wagons. Blount caught their raging faces in the firelight, eyes enflamed, mouths frothing. They were all possessed.
He shot two down as they rode close to him. The twins locked hands and backed out of the light. The stew pot hurled into the air and caught another horseman in the head. Blount shot randomly as the scene grew out of control. He ducked behind a wagon while the cavalry searched for him.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” one called with menacing laughter.
The twins huddled together, preparing their escape, when a horse streaked out of the shadows. It lifted its hooves and battered the girls. The two went down hard. Blount heard their screams and leapt from his hiding place.
He ran across camp, as a rider slashed the guns out of his hands with a cutlass. The soldier slashed again, but Blount caught his arm and dragged him from the horse. He wrestled the cutlass away and swung hard, taking the soldier’s head off. Speeding across the camp, he spied the twins about to be trampled. They looked drained, as if their power were at its limit.
Blount climbed the burning wagon closest to him, flames encircling him, and leapt into the air. He came down on a horse and its rider, all three collapsing to the ground. A few good slashes and Blount gained the advantage, dispatching the soldier. He pulled the twins up and moved them into the woods.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” he said as they stumbled.
“We can’t keep running like this. Our physical selves are not as strong as our minds.”
“Just gotta find a safe place.”
“These are not safe times. You must go on without us.”
“No! You can do it. Just keep moving.”
He dragged the girls miles away, until they reached the bed of a river. It was there that they put up the white flags.
“We need…” Maya began.
“To stop,” Nina finished. “We can go no farther. We must rest and recharge.”
“Then we set up camp,” Blount said.
“No, you must go on without us.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“You must. You are the target—not us. There is a town up the river. Look for a hill. Once you scale it, you will see the town. Abdiel will be there. Seek him out.”
“This feels wrong. Will you be alright
?”
“We do not sense the dark ones any longer. We have escaped them. We will be alright. Now go. God is not the only savior of this world.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, girls.”
An aura glowed around them and they smiled. “One day, you will see that we do.”
He took their hands into his. “Thank you for saving my life.” He gave them a wink and started down the river.
“Blount,” they called to him and he looked back. “We will see God again. He is out there.”
* * *
He is out there.
The twins’ words from all those lives ago still rang in his head. He wondered if what they told him would ever come true. He was still waiting. He glanced out the window at the lush green island coming into view, then he turned back to the girls.
“Are you getting anything now, ladies?”
“We need to be closer,” they said in unison. Each time they spoke at the same time, or finished each other’s sentences, it creeped the others on the team out. To Blount it was just par for the course. “We need to be on land. Touch and feel. Something is trying to block us. It knows we’re here.”
“What knows you’re here?”
“We do not know its name yet. We cannot see its face or its eyes. It blocks us with a very strong will.”
“OK, well, we’ll be down in two minutes, and the floor will be yours.”
* * *
The Blackhawk settled down in a clearing on the strange island. Outside the window, a strong wind lashed and shook the copter, and branches and brush smacked up against the sides with a clatter.
Blount stood and addressed the other members of his team.
Geological expert Nick Larson was brought on to examine the land, the plant life, the organic make up of the island. Perhaps he could determine how old it was, and if it was safe to stay on the island. Blount wasn’t sure if the island would sink as fast as it had rose, or break apart due to volcanic activity they’d been picking up on their sensors during the flight over.
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