by Dan McNeill
Raymond sucked in the returning air. They were flying now, careening over the moonlit waters faster than a drunk speed boater on old Lake Como. The passing shoreline was a blur of weeds and occasional back porches. Raymond didn’t even know if his attempts at steering were making any difference. And he didn’t care. They were free. Looking down at the sparkling clear waters carrying them away, Raymond smiled. The river was happy to be free too.
Po stood up tall. “Whooooooo, hoo!” he proudly cheered. While Raymond pretended to steer, the others celebrated with high fives and hugs. Raymond took a glance back just as Abraham planted a long kiss on Salome’s lips.
She could have him. He had to carry them through this. All of them. Though it appeared for the moment that the river was carrying him. As they burst around another bend, the river began to straighten out and widen. After a time, the currents began to slow.
“So, do you think they survived?” Salome said. “Jehu and Zephaniah?”
“They couldn’t have,” Raymond said. “I saw their bodies hit the floor of the power station at the base of the dam. It had to have been like a hundred foot drop.”
Po shook his head. “The bad guys never die that easy Waymond,” he said. “Don’t you know that by now?”
Abraham smiled as he cuddled closer to Salome “That’s right Po, they don’t. We’ve seen the bad guys die before. Only to come back even stronger. But that’s all gonna change now Po.”
Po peered over at Abraham a bit suspiciously. “Weally Abey?”
“Sir,” Jake said, getting Abraham’s attention. He then leaned over, whispering something in his ear.
“What are you two talking about?” Raymond said.
“Nothing,” Jake said flatly. “None of your business kid.”
Raymond had had enough. “Hey asshole," he screamed back. "My brother. My business. Every time your precious prophet gets an idea into his head, someone gets hurt. That ain't happening again.” He clenched his fists, ready to tango with this cat just like he did with the quarterback in high school who made fun of Po. "Ever. Again."
Jake started to stand but Abraham pulled him back down. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the torn leatherback seat cushions lining the benches along the side of the boat and lifted his head. Opening his eyes, he stared up at the moon and the sparkling stars while he looked back at Raymond with a steady grin.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Abraham replied calmly. Keeping his balance as the pontoon boat continued to sail the rapids, he stood by Po.
“You heard what Jehu said Po, about Dad being alive?” he said, still looking off towards Raymond. "Well it's true."
“Weally Abey?” Po said with a startled smile.
Raymond swung around. “Stop lying to him!” he shouted. “God!" he continued, punching the side of the boat. "Nothing’s changed with you Abe! Still always trying to get people to buy in to your bull-”
“WAYMOND!” Po scolded. “Watch your potty mouth!”
Raymond turned back around, his attentions drawn to the rapidly swelling waves. “Sorry Po," Raymond shouted. "But whatever Abe tells you, it’s a lie. You know that, right?" ”
Abraham shook his head, looking back over at Jake and Salome.
“Jake,” he said. “Do you mind telling the group what we know?” He sat next to Po and let out a deep sigh. “It seems that my credibility is being called into question.”
“Not by me sir,” Jake said sternly, looking over at Raymond whose back was turned towards them. “Your dad was working on a cure for Down syndrome.”
"Oh please!" Raymond shouted. "We already knew all about that. That's why the guy was gone so much. Trying to work on a cure for someone who was already perfect. Bunch of bullshit if you ask me. And none of it means the old man's still alive."
“It does when we learn that he didn't die Ray!"
Raymond got up from the resin backed chair, stomped past the remnants of a tiny tiki bar and smacked Abraham hard across the side of the head.
"Bastard!" he screamed as Abraham jumped to his feet. "You lying sack of-"
But Abraham had already grabbed Raymond's arm and swung him around. Kneeing him from behind, he pushed Raymond face-forward over the side of the pontoon boat.
"It's no lie Ray," Abraham shouted. "I was there that night too. That night dad left."
"Yeah," Raymond said, his head locked down inches from the river's currents. "Bet you cried like a baby seeing your hero walk out like that."
"I did. I won't lie. For a few minutes I cried like the child I was. I cried out every last of those child tears. Then I chased out after him. I ran like a lunatic down Lincoln, then Lark. I ran past houses on fire with the stench of corpses and past half-buried bodies." He pulled Raymond's arm so tight now he thought it was going to snap. He pushed him closer to the water. Raymond thought it was beautiful.
"Then you know what I saw Ray?"
"No asshole," Raymond yelled back, grimacing in pain. "Tell me."
"I saw dad get into the passenger seat of a Ford Fairlane and drive away." With that, he quickly snapped loose Raymond's arm and pushed him away.
"What?" Raymond said, rubbing his arm.
"He was tired Ray, exhausted. Near death, perhaps. But he didn't have the Rap. And whoever he was with didn't have it either."
Both brothers turned from each other, standing inches apart near the cushioned seats along the side of the boat. Salome took Abraham's hand into her own and sighed.
"Tell him my love," she said softly. "Tell him why we're here. And where we're going."
"What is it Abey?" Po asked.
"Jake," Abraham said. "Tell my brothers what you came to me with."
"Yes sir," Jake replied with a tinge of pride in his deep voice. "Your brother here saved my life. I was in a dark place. A place no man should ever be. And he came to me and without any care for his own safety, saved me. After I was healed, and after I realized the truth to his preachings about the 19, I came to him with what I knew."
"What was that Mr. Jake?" Po asked.
"That your old man was working on something that would do a heck of a lot more than just cure people with Down syndrome. A helluva lot more," he said, looking at Raymond now, who had returned to pretending to steer the boat. Keeping it centered, he turned back to the conversation.
"Nanobodies. That's was dad's expertise was in. I tried explaining it to you once but you were too busy figuring out who you were going to call to buy beer for the party you were planning."
"Yeah," Raymond laughed. "Explains why I needed to drink all the time - to tune out your annoying voice."
Abraham ignored him. "Dad wasn't just thinking about a cure for Down syndrome. He was looking at a range of disorders that had to do with the 21st chromosome. Alzheimers, Parkinson's Disease. Down syndrome was just one of them." He paused for a moment and looked at Po. "It just so happens that the first subjects given the nano treatments happened to have Down syndrome."
"What happened to them Abe?" Po asked.
Abraham smiled. "They developed powers that far exceeded anyone's wildest expectations Po. They became gods. Superheroes. Powers that would make Superman look as weak as...well, as Batman. And there were 19 of them. It's my belief that the reason for Dad's condition when we last saw him was that he took them some place. Some place safe. Some place hidden."
"Or, maybe you're just crazy," Raymond said. "Even if what you're saying is true, why would he hide them? Wouldn't he just want them to keep helping people?"
"Don't be naive kid," Jake growled. "You see what it's like out there now with the Chosen and the Elected. Well, let me tell you, in the weeks and months after the Rap it was even worse. Especially for those of us who didn't have the luxury of a Lake Como." He shook his head and looked out to the burned out houses on the other side of the dark river. "When those that kept on living had to fight nightmares worse than an inferno of blood sucking demons..." He shook his head and frowned. "The Rap killed billions, sure. But we w
ho survived? Man, we did a pretty good job killing what was left."
Abraham turned fully around, placing his hands on Po's shoulders. He looked at him and smiled before looking up to Raymond. "Dad had to know that these 19, as powerful as they may have been, that they just weren't up to the fight yet. Not a fight like that one."
"So, what?" Raymond said. "You're saying that dad's got them in some Fortress of Solitude or something? Keeping them tucked away until the time's right to reveal them to the world?"
"Perhaps," Abraham replied.
"And what if there's no world left when he decides to bring them back?"
Abraham shook his head. "I understand your doubt Ray, I truly do. But consider this. The Chosen are growing stronger by the day. We can't keep on protecting Po from them. Not me..." He lowered his head. "Not even you. But the 19, if there's even a chance that what I'm saying is true, they could. They could keep Po and people like him safe from the Elected forever."
"Are you so sure about that?" Raymond asked. "Even if these 19 are real, they can't be everywhere at once. And what makes you think that if you do find them that you'll be able to convince them to fight for you anyway?"
"Because Ray," Abraham said. "We have faith. They just need to know that we believe in them, that we-"
"Enough!" Raymond shouted, pounding his fist against the boat's Plexiglas steering column. "You just think that if you pray your rosary hard enough and sprinkle on some fairy dust that these 19 Tinkerbelles will fly out and save the world from the wicked? Faith? Is that what you think this is about? Did having faith save our friends and neighbors? You know what faith is Abe? Faith is shit!"
Abraham looked at him like he was going to cry or throw a bunch. Raymond couldn't tell.
"Faith saved dad, Ray," he said softly.
"Yes," Raymond said, letting out a laugh. "It's just too bad his wasn't a life worth saving."
Raymond thought quick about another comeback to a jab that Abe was sure to return with. Something that crushed him. Something that won the argument.
But nothing came. Just icy silence as the boat drifted along, passing empty shacks and dead dormant trees, their spindly grey branches reaching down to a river that had been cut off - but was now returning. Passing by their skeleton-like trunks, Raymond wondered if life would ever return.
The silence festered as they moved down river. And Raymond enjoyed it. He was too exhausted to continue a sibling rivalry that could never be settled anyway. Looking ahead at the moonbeam ripples, he continued navigating the pontoon boat around a bend in the river. All along the sides of the slowing currents, Raymond could see rocks and debris kicked up by the water's return.
Raymond had no idea where he was at. By his calculations, they could be anywhere near McHenry by now, maybe even further south. Moraine Valley was one of the places he and his friends would fish at. If that were true though, they would have seen felt it. The last time Raymond was there, the river was plugged by a dam. Unless those chunks of debris he had spotted earlier was what was left of it.
The boat approached an overpass, a road leading to some dark town that Raymond couldn't recognize. The overpass itself seemed to be freshly clear of the grass and weeds that covered most of the roads he remembered seeing back in Lake Como.Peering east, he could almost make out the dim flicker of candle light behind the family room window of a river's edge mansion. In front of a shed at the back of the yard, Raymond could see a raccoon scrounging around for a late night snack. Raymond heard a rumbling roar.
It was Po, snoring. The others were sleeping too. Everyone but Abraham. Slowly rising, he walked over and sat on a bench next to Raymond.
"Sorry brother," he said in a hushed tone. "For this. For everything. For things that both of us probably can't even remember anymore. I'm sorry."
Raymond just shook his head. He started to say something and stopped, looking out at the raccoon as it took a tentative sip from the river's edge.
"What did that guy want with Po's blood?" he finally said.
"Hard to say for sure, Ray. Could be he know's something we don't. Of course, all of the elected are insane. Chances are, he's delusional. You can't trust anything that the Elected say Ray. Whatever we do, we need to keep Po away from them."
Raymond nodded in agreement. "I was a little rough on you out there," he added. "I'm sorry too."
Abraham smiled, looking out at a stretch of farmland opening up to the south. Raymond turned towards it, releasing a long sigh as a bat shot out from the stalks of corn, darting across the meandering river.
"We'll need to park this beast soon," Raymond said with a yawn. "I suppose you and your friends will be leaving us in the morning. Got any idea where you'll be going?"
"Youngstown, Ohio, Ray. And I assumed you and Po would be coming with us."
Raymond looked up at Abraham. "No," he said firmly. "Me and Po aren't going to Youngstown."
"But you have to Ray. It's where dad grew up. Think of the clues we may be able to dig up there. At the very least, with everyone migrating to Illinois to join the Elected's New Eden, places like Youngstown are pretty empty. We'd be safe there."
"Doubtful," Raymond said.
"But Ray, together, we can do so much. It's what Po would want you know. To be together."
"This matter's closed. If I have learned anything these past few days it's that the only way to keep Po safe is to find a better place to hide."
"Seriously Ray? Is that really all you've learned?"
"No, not all," Raymond replied. "I've learned that people don't change. I've learned that the world was uglier than I thought. I learned you can't trust anyone. I learned..."
Raymond stopped, his voice trailing off as he stood up.
"What the hell is that?" he shouted, pointing up to a quickly moving set of lights he was tracking as it flew across the sky from the north.
"Pull this thing over man," Abraham said. "Looks like a Chosen helicopter. Could be searching for us."
Raymond quickly nodded. "Doing it now," he shouted, turning the wheel hard. The boat's rusty rudders responded painfully, moving the boat in the direction of the shoreline. "Go wake the others! Let them know to brace for impact!"
"Everybody up!" Abraham yelled.
"What's happening?" Po said, rubbing his eyes.
"Just found a place to rest for the night," Abraham said, putting his arm around Po as he took a seat next to him. He was still tracking the lights.
"Sir?' Jake said.
"Search chopper. Be ready."
Jake nodded, gripping the handrail on the back of the boat. Salome did the same.
Somehow, the boat veered successfully to the shoreline, crashing harmlessly into a line of more mostly dead trees. Behind the trees Raymond could make out traces of a brick path leading up to another empty cottage. It's roof had caved in and by the pairs of low-to-the-ground moonlit eyes staring back at them, it appeared to be inhabited. Everything else around them was wide open field.
"Come on," Abraham said, already on the ground beyond the trees. He flipped on a flashlight. "We need to find deeper cover."
"How about that?" Po said, pointing at something just up the hill.
Walking uphill, they looked out at the edge of a vast cornfield. While weeds and brush lined the edges, the inner stalks seemed quite tall and healthy. A nondescript white sign stood in front of the field. The wind was starting to kick up now, carrying with it a potpourri of autumn leaves and debris as Raymond squinted to read it.
Glorious Shekinah Meaning of Life Farm 42
"Odd name for a farm," Raymond said, shrugging his shoulders. As he started into the cornfield Salome grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.
"Are you crazy?" she stammered. "We can't go in there!"
"Why not?"
"This is the Mother's farm!"
"The who?"
"The Mother! Are you stupid?"
"No, I'm not," he replied, staring peevishly at Abe. "Just uneducated."
"The M
other is the leader of the Chosen," Jake said. "The leader of the Elected. The Bride of God and all of that bullshit? The one Zephaniah said was wacko? You trying to tell us you never heard of her?"
"No, I haven't." Raymond replied. Looking around at the field, he started to walk. "Come on. It seems dead."
Before he had even set foot past the sign, he could hear it. He could always hear it before Po could. From far beyond the fields, Raymond's nightmare whistles echoed. He crouched in front of the sign and froze.
"What are you doing kid?" Jake asked, looking around. He looked up and down the line of the field, checking out every movement.
"They're coming!" Raymond shouted back.
Po ran over to him. "It's gonna be all right Waymond!" he said. Do you want Po to tell you a story?
"No Po," he said, trying to shake off the embarrassment. The whistling turned now into a blaring alarm. The men on horseback were close. Painfully close for Raymond.
"Dammit," Abraham said. "Everyone, into the cornfield! Hurry!"
Charging into the field, the cornstalks rose around them like emaciated ghouls growing up from the inky black soil. They ran, faster and faster as the stalks tried blocking their advance. They were so tall and tightly packed, Raymond wasn’t even sure what direction they were heading. And he didn't care. All he knew was that they were heading away from the shrieking winds.
They stepped out suddenly to a small clearing in the field, where the stalks of corn had been flattened. Po screamed. Abraham aimed his flashlight on something directly ahead.
It was Jehu. Wielding a sword, he hovered over them with his stringy orange hair and demonic scowl. Po let out another horrific scream and jumped back behind the stalks of corn. Raymond stood his ground. If Jehu wanted them dead, Raymond wasn’t going to make it easy. He and the others would fight long enough to give Po a chance to escape. He was confident of that. Raymond crouched into a defensive stance as Abraham put the flashlight back into his pocket.
