Verity Rising (Gods of Deceit Book 1)

by Phil Scott Mayes

  “You’ve never met a human who you trusted or respected?”

  “Until I got to Pentastar, I had never given a human the time of day. They were always just targets, nothing more. My time at Pentastar had me even more convinced of their depravity until I prepared to sow Dave. By pure happenstance, I met his wife and nephews, who exposed me to another facet of his character. Ever since then, I’ve been struggling with doubts about the true malignancy of human behavior. Obviously, Jan amplified those doubts by showing me the ugly truth about our kind.”

  I sigh, stare at the wobbling flame of a tiki torch, and contemplate her question. She waits patiently and watches me intently. I can feel her empathy, her compassion. She’s not bothered by my feelings about humanity; she understands them, and the only reason she’s challenging me is because she wants what’s best for me. To be fair, I can think of several recent examples of virtuous human actions and, despite my persistent reservations, I offer them to Mel as tokens of my good faith efforts to grow and be open-minded.

  “I have witnessed a few respectable human behaviors lately. Tyson is a positive, kind, and helpful individual. Drake, as much as we butt heads, is brave, noble, and loyal. Dave’s willingness to step up for his nephews was selfless and honorable. Even so, a few good deeds over a lifetime of deceit doesn’t make them admirable creatures. I’m just not ready to embrace humanity as a whole the way that you have.”

  “I don’t think I know Tyson. Regardless, you’re right and that’s just a small sample of the good that they’re capable of. I’ve seen things that would inspire you and bring you to tears, Ted. Of course there are bad eggs and there always will be, that’s when we intervene with sowings, but on the whole, as a matter of percentage, I think they’re doing a lot better than us Nephilim.”

  “I believe you, but I haven’t seen the things you have. I’ve never seen people act in a way that inspired me. My mind is slowly changing about humanity, but it may take some time before my heart comes around.”

  “Fair enough. I can respect that.” Mel pauses, still studying my face, then pans around to survey the town below and speaks without making eye contact. “Just so you know, your beliefs about humanity aren’t a deal breaker with the alliance. As long as we agree about taking the fight to the corrupt Nephilim, your views about humanity are yours to hold. No one here can change your heart and we aren’t going to waste our breath trying, but I want you to remember what I’m about to say. There will come a moment when you discover the strength in your own humanity. Only you can change your heart, but in that moment, you will. We all have.”

  Her confident predictions about my future are almost as reassuring as they are presumptuous. In a time when I don’t even know myself, it’s a strange relief to be with someone who so boldly claims to know something about me. In fact, everyone here seems to know as much about me as I know about myself, a fact that should be unnerving but is oddly comforting. My inborn resistance to vulnerability, to openness, doesn’t matter here. Jan’s betrayal of my vulnerability has only increased the sturdiness of my walls, but this place and these Nephilim have made those barriers transparent. They conceal nothing, leaving no point in even trying to hold back. My book is open, my pages have been read, and there’s nothing left to hide. I’m free.

  Considering the alternatives, there is no better place for me to be right now than surrounded by those who know of my shame but embrace me anyway. Nowhere will my struggle be better understood, and there is no one outside of this camp who can help me become who I want to become—who I choose to be.

  I look at the breathtaking Mel, bracing for and tempering the rush of premature fondness that always follows. “Thanks for bringing me here, to Carver I mean. As much as I’m leaning toward joining your efforts, I still need to take the night to think it over. I’ve been hit with some devastating information today and I want to make sure I’m thinking clearly.”

  “Of course. Take your time. I don’t know if Doc mentioned it, but there’s a campfire tonight—actually, they’re probably getting it started now. Please come. You don’t have to say much beyond a simple introduction to those you haven’t met yet. Just be a fly on the wall, enjoy the distraction, and embrace the community of it. It’ll help you make the right decision if you get to experience the camaraderie of this group. They’ve become my family. It’s a powerful bond.”

  “Thanks, Mel. Doc mentioned it when we bumped into each other and I was on the fence about it then, but I think I’d like to join you all. If nothing else, I could use the distraction from my thoughts, and it would be great to meet more Nephilim.”

  “Great, let’s go now,” she says as she stands. “We can continue our talk along the way and at the campfire if you want, or you can just relax and take it all in.”

  I stand and we make our way down the stairs and through the nearby neighborhood. Out past the muffled rumbling of the generators, on the border between Carver and the middle of nowhere, lies a gully that dances with the campfire’s frolicking radiance as we approach. A jagged orange cleft in the ashen prairie, it looks like a gash straight to the Earth’s molten core, glowing heat rising from the chasm. Cheerful voices echo up from the torn earth, and as we clear the gully’s edge, I see the familiar faces of Reb, Doc, and Drake along with a couple of new ones.

  After brief introductions, I spend over an hour just passively observing the group, tossing small twigs into the flames and listening to the crackle as they’re swallowed. As a lump on a stump, I get to know Reb and Doc quite well, learn a little about Pam and Vic, tolerate Drake, and pine for Mel. Unsure whether to credit the heat of the burning logs or the warmth of this newfound companionship, I can feel my guarded heart soften and even discover the value in their playfulness, jumping into the fray during my second and third hours by the fire. I marvel at their tales of hard-fought victory, laugh at their embarrassing stories of personal failure, and genuinely relish the frivolous, quick-witted banter of the alliance members. Their play solidifies the bonds that fortify the alliance. They play together, they fight together, and they may even die together, but there’s no one they’d rather spend those final moments with than their alliance family. Despite the devastating revelations of the day, it’s around that campfire that I find the camaraderie I’ve come to admire, the community I’ve been longing for, and the family I’ve always needed. It may be dysfunctional, but it’s nevertheless fulfilling.

  It’s nearly ten thirty by the time Mel drops me off at the small, two-bedroom house where my day started. We reach the stoop and hold at the unlocked door. For the briefest of moments, we lock eyes and the beating in my chest halts. Both exhilarated and terrified, I keep my distance for fear of humiliation. Mel makes the first move as she leans in. Her arms wrap around my shoulders in what is one of the most platonic hugs imaginable. Disappointed but not surprised, I hug back and savor the moment.

  “I’m really glad you’re here, Ted,” she speaks quietly into my ear. “I know this is where you belong and that you bring something special to this group. I hope you decide to stay. If you do, I think you should do the blood test Reb mentioned. It may shed some light on your past, but it will also help you set realistic expectations for yourself. Just remember, no matter how it turns out, we want you to stay.”

  I nod as we separate, but don’t speak a reply. She looks at me with her eyes of pure, icy light and takes a step backward.

  “If you do stay, we can start your training tomorrow!” she says with an excited smile.

  I allow a subdued grin as I respond, “That sounds excellent.”

  “Okay. Goodnight, Ted,” she says as she turns and descends the couple of steps to the ground.

  As she strolls away, I call out, “When do I get to hear your story?”

  She stops and turns back. “What was that?”

  “I heard all about Drake, Doc, Reb, and even a little about the others. When do I get to hear your story?”

  Her coy smile says, You caught me, but her tired voice sa
ys, “Not tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight, Mel,” I say as I turn and enter the house.

  Once inside, I head straight to the shower to clean up and wash the campfire smoke from my itchy eyes. I don the neatly folded dark-green cotton robe that was placed on the vanity counter and head back to my room. As I pass the dining table, I notice a handwritten slip of paper that details the old-fashioned laundry process using the tub and a washboard along with the following statement: The generators provide just enough power for refrigeration, basic lighting, and incidental use (charging cell phones, radios, tools, etc.). They cannot sustain prolonged high amperage usage. Think of it as a very limited resource to be used sparingly. Thanks.

  I scrub my outfit accordingly, hang it outside to dry overnight, and finally climb into bed more exhausted than I should be given my recent day-and-a-half of sleep. Just minutes after falling asleep, my eyes burst open to find that I’m not alone in my room, only it’s not exactly my room. Through the black mist that gets thicker as I pan toward the ceiling, an immense, dark figure towers near the windows. Even in this murky atmosphere I can make out his gray flesh and inky eyes. My jarring pulse travels through my bones to my eardrums and out to my fingertips. My whole body tingles and my mind races. His dead eyes glare directly at me, and he speaks.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  With a husky, melodic, almost choral voice, the intruder utters, “Theodonis, it’s time to have a talk.” Despite his elysian features, he seems almost personable. He has familiar Nephilim qualities and, unlike the dark hooded attire from his break-in at my old apartment, his garb looks like breezy linen, albeit black or dark gray in color. It flaps gently in a nonexistent wind that moves the dark mist, like visible black spores, in swirls and billows. I reach for the bedside lamp and twist the knob, which clicks but provides no light. It could be the generators, or this could be a dream; I’d prefer the latter.

  Threatened by his presence and emboldened by my newly minted friendships, I rudely address my uninvited, possibly imaginary guest. “You’re the same slug who broke into my apartment. Whatever this little game of yours is, I’m not interested. It’s been a long week and I’d really like some sleep, so get lost and take your talk with you.”

  He appears frozen for several seconds, a glitch in what is nothing more than a nightmare, I hope. A quiet snapping sound reaches my ears, maybe a memory from breaking twigs at the campfire, and almost instantly the man darts from the windows to the side of my bed in a blur. He stands over me like an undertaker, the dark lines of his silhouette blending against the murky spores. I swallow hard, reminding myself he’s not real.

  “That’s some tough talk, Ted. I didn’t think a broken little boy like you could muster such courage. Too bad you’ll never know whether you got that from your mommy’s side or your daddy’s. I can’t even imagine what it feels like to be abandoned by your own parents. If they found you so unlovable, just imagine how easily your new friends here will toss you aside.”

  That hurts: a finger plunged deep into my fresh wound and a reminder of my overwhelming fear of rejection. My fight deflated, I glare hatefully at his looming shadow. He knows exactly what buttons to push and has no restraint. The longer this goes, the more my spirit will be crushed, my will broken, and my trust for Mel and the gang lost.

  “I don’t know how you’re doing this, but if you’re going to kill me, just get it over with so I can wake up from this pointless nightmare. Just know that if you try anything in the real world, it’ll be the last thing you ever do. You’ve never seen Nephilim numbers like those that will slam down on you before you make it out of this camp.”

  He snickers condescendingly and says, “I know about this little camp of do-gooders and I’m not worried. They and their ancestors have been around for centuries trying to redefine what’s written in the genetic code of the Nephilim. At first, we tried to fight back and destroy them, but they kept resurfacing. Eventually it was clear that they’d never even make a meaningful dent in my horde. We may not be a cute little team, but we outnumber them fifty-to-one, which is why I have always won and will always win.”

  The figure withdraws from his aggressive position over my bed and walks back to the windows, where he looks out at the Carver Public School building. Something about him looking at that playground where those innocent Nephilim children played just hours ago feels vulgar, menacing. It almost feels like a threat. No one is off limits, not even them. With his back still turned to me, he continues.

  “My goal is not to destroy you or any other Nephilim for that matter; it is to give your existence greater meaning than any of you ever imagined! I want you to fulfill your birthright, your ultimate purpose as the pinnacle of creation to reign over this earth. It is ours to command, but more than that, to enjoy. Why endure a life of loneliness, hardship, and rejection when you could live in unimaginable luxury. Food, travel, women, wealth, power, pleasure—they can all be yours, and it’s so easy.

  “You’ve seen the way that Jan lives. Her power and authority will be laughable in comparison to what you can achieve. She will live in the shadow of your throne, your underling to command; a city, a state, and eventually a nation yours to rule. We control, through occupation or influence, almost every seat of significant power on this planet. Nearly all of the world’s presidents, prime ministers, chancellors, and judges are either Nephilim or are beholden to us. If you don’t join us, you will be dominated by us and will be just another cog in the machine that makes us rich and powerful.

  “I’m not your enemy. In fact, I’m your only true friend. I’m the only one who’s honest enough to tell you that this whole alliance thing is a waste of time. You’re just going to get hurt in more ways than one. Rejection, betrayal, broken spine, death—that’s what you’re signing up for.”

  I can tell he’s not done, but I’ve heard enough of his sordid sales pitch. With impressive swiftness of my own, I throw off my covers and hurdle across the room, trying to take Nephilim form as I do, but something is wrong. My spine is locked, my veins lifeless, as he turns back from the windows. Just before the point of no return, I manage to halt my movement a couple of inches from the nine-foot-tall monster. Craning my neck up painfully, I look into his soulless eyes. He seems amused by my close proximity and cracks an ugly smile.

  Furious, I spit and bark, “That’s enough out of you! Your fear that I’ll join the alliance is pathetic. You’re embarrassing yourself. Think of me shutting you up as a favor, and there’s no need to thank me. But before you go on your way, I would like to thank you for helping me make my decision. I will join the alliance, we will take you and your ‘horde’ down, and you’ll regret ever showing your face!”

  The figure, frozen again for a couple seconds, seems to tremble with rage. I take a step backward, but not quickly enough as the behemoth grabs a fistful of my hair and lifts me from the ground. In my helpless human form I dangle, grabbing at his arm to relieve the searing pain in my follicles. He effortlessly raises me with one arm to meet him at eye level. Immersed in the smoky mist, my scalp feels like it’s peeling away from my skull. His black eyes swallow goodness, hope, and joy as he leans forward and pulls my head alongside his.

  Calmly and quietly, he whispers in my ear, “We’ll see.”

  I feel my body begin to sway, bringing an eye-juicing, tooth-crushing grimace to my already pained face. The sway rapidly and violently accelerates as he slings me across the room and against the wall. I hit it with a crunch and drop like a lump onto the bed.

  The instant I flop against the mattress, the jangling bell of the mechanical alarm clock screams. I lie face down with my aching head at the foot of the bed and as I open my eyes, the darkness is gone—no fog, no threatening intruder. In fact, the room is unexpectedly bright. I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m.—a couple hours before sunrise this time of year—and yet the room is vividly aglow. Delirious after what feels like zero sleep, I stretch the grogginess from my body and rub the sleep from my
eyes before discovering the light source: the bedside lamp. I’m positive I turned it off before I went to sleep. I did turn it on during my nightmare, but it yielded no light. I’m also positive that I laid down with my head on the pillow, but here I am in the exact position from my dream, a lump with my head at the foot of the bed and a throbbing scalp.

  Nausea sets in with the impossible notion that my nightmare was somehow more than just a figment of my sleeping subconscious. The more I think about it, the more the evidence fits despite its impossibility. Just because I lack an understanding of how a real being could appear and interact with me in a dreamlike state doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen. If it did, however, I’m gravely concerned about the implications of that interaction for my safety and that of the alliance. Maybe I should have responded differently.

  I give my small residence a once-over, checking every room, every closet, and every cabinet just to put my mind at ease. By the time I finish, the sun has broken the horizon and beams through the kitchen windows. There’s a knock at my door and I rewrap my robe before I answer. Pam, blonde and rather plain looking by Nephilim standards, awaits with a pleasant smile and a plate of fresh fruit.

  “Mornin’, Ted,” she greets with a slight Texas drawl. “Figured you’d need somethin’ for breakfast.”

  “Good morning, Pam. You figured right. Thank you!”

  She smiles shyly and hands the plate over to me before asking, “So will we see you at training today?”

  I pause in thought even though I don’t need to. Last night’s nightmare, vision, experience—whatever it was—made the stakes very real, and even if the alliance is doomed to fail, I can’t sit back and let that monster have his way.