Stephen yelled, “Stop!” Verbalizing his thoughts helped him to penetrate the lady’s mind. She shook her head and stumbled away from Stephen.
The jaguars broke through the brush and took stances between Stephen and the stranger. Again, they roared at Stephen, but didn’t move. Why weren’t they advancing? Were they now protecting her?
Stephen listened for her thoughts. Again, he felt the animalistic instincts. But he also sensed fear. But whose? The animals’? Looking between the cats and the woman, he saw fear in their eyes.
Stephen was first to speak. “Why are you doing this? I can sense the fear. So why are you attacking me?”
The jaguars sat on their haunches. No longer did they look fierce, but more like oversized house cats. Stephen took a single step forward, but stopped when he heard an unfriendly purr from the largest cat.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I just want to understand why you’re attacking me.”
The lady walked up and stood between the two felines and patted each on the head. “I needed to test you.”
Stephen shrugged. “Test me? You’re not Fallen?”
The lady sounded nervous, but managed a slight laugh. “No, I’m not Fallen. My name’s Max. These two are Angel and Damian.” She motioned to the smaller cat to the left, then the larger on the right.
“So you’re Mighty?” Stephen asked.
Max ignored him, looking around before speaking to her furred friends. “You can go home. Remember, stay away from people.” Both animals rubbed their heads against her before disappearing into the woods heading north, back toward the volcanic mountain ranges.
Max looked Stephen over, drawing closer to him.
“Mighty, Fallen, what’s the difference?” Max mumbled. “Yes, I’m descended from David’s mighty men. Obviously, I have certain abilities. But I don’t belong to Enclave. I’m not part of their plans. I wouldn’t want to be.”
Stephen knew Mighty were free to live their lives apart from Enclave. Max, however, was the first descendant he had met who wasn’t part of either faction—Mighty or Fallen. Searching her feelings told him she was being truthful. He listened for her thoughts. With the jaguars gone, he found her thoughts were as discernible as any other person’s. He quickly saw the truth.
“You’re an Outcast?”
“What if I am?” Max took a piece of gum from her pocket and popped it in her mouth. She chewed until she was able to blow a large bubble that popped. Then, she chewed some more.
Stephen glared at her, frustrated that they were getting nowhere and annoyed at the popping and chewing sounds. He turned to walk away.
“They have different names for us. I doubt you’ve heard much of us, yet. But when someone disagrees with the Mighty in thought or action and doesn’t yield to the council’s desires, that person is cast out of Enclave. And we aren’t usually allowed back. Basically, we are deprived of our birthright.”
“What do you mean by ‘disagree’? What did you do?”
Max took a deep breath and exhaled. Stephen felt her sadness as she told her story.
“I was walking home one night from my job. I worked at the local zoo. I walked the same path home all the time. One night, I passed a house that was being robbed. I stopped it. It was some kids being stupid. Fallen weren’t involved. We’re not supposed to interfere unless it’s a sanctioned action, or we’re fighting Fallen.”
Stephen couldn’t see the council banishing Mighty for helping people. “They cast you out for that?”
“No,” Max replied. “They asked me not to do it again. When I told them I wouldn’t stop helping people who needed it, that’s when I became an Outcast.”
Stephen didn’t know what to make of it. The lady in front of him looked the part of a rebel—complete with attitude and tattoos. Still, as she told her story, he had sensed a longing in her, to be accepted as Mighty once again. But this feeling was buried so deep, perhaps even she didn’t recognize it.
He had never heard of being cast out. But he’d never really studied the Mighty’s history, not like he was supposed to. Patty, however, had. She’d know if there was any truth to Max’s story.
“Patty!” Stephen pulled his phone from his pocket. “I need to let her know I’m okay.” He sent a quick text. “I told her to meet us at the cottage. We can talk more there.”
Max agreed and followed Stephen through the woods back to the cottage. Monkeys stirred and watched them as they went. And although he had no reason to mistrust Max, Stephen kept his eyes, ears, and mind focused in case she had more tests in mind.
Chapter 2
Stephen and Max arrived at the cottage to find a nervous Patty pacing on the deck. As soon as Patty looked up, he saw a spark burning in her eyes. Focusing, he wanted to calm her down and pushed his emotions to her to take the edge off. It worked, but only for a moment. When Patty realized what Stephen was up to, she put an immediate end to it.
“You!” Patty shouted, while pointing a finger at Stephen. “Stay out of my head. I have every right to be upset.”
Stephen said nothing. She was right. Although they’d been married less than two weeks, he knew well enough not to press the issue.
“I’m Patty. You are?”
“None of your concern,” Max snapped.
“Her name is Max,” Stephen mumbled. “The jaguars were hers.”
Patty marched straight toward Max, hands flying around in harmless gestures as she sounded off. “What the heck were you thinking? There were innocent people on that beach—you scared them half to death!”
“I was in control,” Max said. “Those beauties wouldn’t have hurt anyone.”
“Really?” Patty said. “People probably hurt themselves trying to get away—tripping and shoving each other. And what if Stephen had knocked you unconscious? What then?”
Max didn’t hesitate. “Pfft! I’m not impressed with your husband. He barely passed my test. Plus, he doesn’t look that strong. Prophets aren’t exactly known for their strength.”
“You don’t know?” Patty looked at Stephen. “Why doesn’t she know?”
“And just what am I supposed to know?” Max asked, rolling her eyes.
Stephen wasn’t entirely sure himself. He knew that Max wasn’t part of Mighty, but since she knew about him, why wouldn’t she also know how powerful he was? Stephen turned to Max. “I’m not just a prophet.”
“Not just a prophet?” Max gave Stephen her full attention. “What does that even mean?”
Patty had taken a step backward, keeping her eyes locked on Max as Stephen clarified. “It’s okay. She’s not Fallen. She is Mighty. She’s just not part of Enclave. Apparently, if you don’t follow certain rules, you’re cast out.”
Patty kept her eyes on Max, but her face softened. “What rules?”
“I just finished explaining to Stephen that we aren’t supposed to use our gifts to intervene in regular people issues. Only when Mighty or Fallen are already involved are we supposed to use our abilities.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Patty said.
Stephen spoke up. “That’s what I said. I told Max that you worked with historical records for Pastor Buchanan. Have you run across anything like that?”
Patty scrunched her face and twisted her hair as she thought for moment. “Maybe,” she said with little excitement. “There were some records I ran across and didn’t understand. I meant to ask Pastor Buchanan about them but never got around to it. I can ask him when we get back.”
“No, you can’t,” Max interjected. “The David is missing. Alistair is now David pro tem until Pastor Buchanan’s whereabouts are known.”
Stephen would have thought someone of warrior strength had just knocked him in the head. He stepped backward, feeling the world close in around him. Over the past year and a half, they had come through what he hoped had been the worst of it all. His father had been killed. His best friend’s mother had revealed herself to be Fallen. And they had discovered his Uncle Bernie had also been F
allen all along. Now this!
The weight of the world fell heavy upon his shoulders once again, reminding him there was still a battle to be fought, and he was the key. He looked at the line of cottages nestled under the trees, the nearby pool, the hammocks they had used several times, and then at Patty, all the while guilt mounting. If only he had been there . . . Why did he think he could get away for a couple weeks for his honeymoon and all would be okay? He had to get back and find Pastor Buchanan.
It was hard enough to keep his emotions in check—to not let them consume him and spread to Patty and Max. But he couldn’t vocalize his wants just yet, knowing any attempt at speaking would result in a floodgate of anger and tears. All Stephen needed to do was look at Patty, who understood everything he was feeling.
Patty said, “I’ll get our things. It won’t take long.” She looked at Max. “Give me a hand?”
Max shrugged and reluctantly went with Patty.
Stephen walked back into the woods toward the beach. Things had been going so well. Two weeks away had reminded him of a time not so long ago when all he wanted was to be normal. He hadn’t wanted abilities. He hadn’t wanted to be Mighty. And he certainly hadn’t wanted to be in the middle of a battle for the souls of humankind. But that’s exactly where he found himself now.
Stepping onto the beach, he had hoped the crashing waves would drown out the noise in his head. He closed his eyes and listened to his surroundings—the ocean, the birds, the rustling leaves from the breeze. None of it helped. The screaming did though. It was angry and filled with pain. The emotions flowed from him. He hoped no one was close enough to hear—or feel—the scream. A wave of power riding on his emotions radiated out from him. Even the birds that had returned once again took to the air in fright.
His knees buried into the sand, as did his hands. His strength had left him. There was no energy left to fight. He had to face the truth. He rolled onto his back, face up to the sky.
Pastor Buchanan is missing. He needs my help.
****
Alistair Stewart paced in his living quarters while his father Charles and head council member Sam discussed the David’s whereabouts at a table across the room.
Though both Sam and Charles were slim, Sam stood nearly a head taller than the senior Stewart. His hair and neatly trimmed goatee were peppered with white streaks among his course black hair. His complexion was light, and his face, though stoic, showed years of experience beyond that of Alistair.
Charles’s hair, by contrast, was nearly all white. His skin had grown wrinkled, which wasn’t surprising since he was nearly a generation older than Sam. His age made him look frail by comparison. Still, Alistair held the highest respect for his father, even though they often disagreed, which was to be expected. Charles was English, while Alistair was Scottish.
Being task oriented, Alistair knew his thoughts should be on the problem at hand: finding Benjamin Buchanan. But he couldn’t focus. He flipped his stringy blond hair out of his eyes to glance back down at his phone and review the text message he had received moments ago from Stephen.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’m on my way.”
Alistair knew Stephen was hurting. Would he understand that Alistair had wanted him to enjoy his honeymoon? Or accept that until they knew more, there was nothing Stephen could do? It was doubtful. Alistair knew Stephen better than most. He hated others making choices for him. Still, Alistair was the David now, at least until Pastor Buchanan was found. Explaining every choice he made wasn’t a luxury he had time for.
Sam’s raised voice brought Alistair back to the moment. “Charles, I really don’t think that is information I can share with you. You are no longer on the council.”
Alistair interjected. “That’s a good point, Sam.” He turned to Charles. “Father, I’m reinstating ye to the council.”
“Thank you, son.” Charles beamed.
“Alistair—” Sam stood. “That can’t be allowed. Although you are the presiding David, you can’t make that choice alone. The council members have a vote in this. And, since Charles giving up his position on the council was a condition of your appointment as pro tem, such a motion will not be met with enthusiasm. It looks bad.”
“His experience would be useful,” Alistair added.
“Perhaps,” Sam said. “But his experience can be just as useful to you as a personal advisor, if you’d like. It cannot, however, be used on the council at this time. The council needs to be able to meet knowing they’ll have a free exchange of thoughts, ideas, and opinions without favoritism.”
Alistair sighed. “I suppose ye’re right.” He turned to his father. “Ye don’t mind being my advisor, do ye?”
Charles stood and shook Alistair’s hand. “Actually, I think I’d prefer that.”
Sam glanced at his watch. “Alistair—I mean—David, it’s time to meet with the council and elders.”
Alistair took a deep breath to try and calm his nerves. He closed his eyes. Meeting with the elders was something he had done before he was David, but always as a subordinate. Calm settled on his person. That was what he and everyone else needed at the moment—to remain calm.
An image of Stephen flashed through his mind. Stephen shook with anger just before reaching for Alistair. Since the triune with Vincent and Bernard formed, Alistair sometimes saw things moments before they happened, not just days in advance.
He opened his eyes to search for the emblem next to the door, more nervous now than before. Stepping toward the door, he uttered, “I’ve made a grievous error.”
The doors opened. Alistair didn’t want to look up. He didn’t have to. The vision had already shown him what awaited on the other side of the door.
“Look at me,” Stephen said through his teeth. Alistair didn’t look.
Stephen raised his voice. “Alistair. Look. At. Me.”
Alistair raised his eyes to see Stephen shaking in anger. Before he managed a word, he grabbed Alistair by the collar of his robes, lifting him off the ground.
“Stephen,” Sam and Charles yelled in unison.
Stephen didn’t acknowledge them. But Charles continued, yelling, “How dare you get violent with the David!”
Stephen glared at Charles, who took a step backward. “He’s not the David,” Stephen said before turning back to Alistair.
“You know what I’ve been through better than anyone,” Stephen pleaded. “You saw me with Matthew, when I first discovered Fallen after they had killed Waltz . . . my dad. Why would you keep this from me? You should have called me. I can help. I need to help!” Stephen yelled the last part, startling the others in the room.
Alistair could see that Stephen was struggling against the anger and rage inside that had once all but consumed him. For a moment, he worried that Stephen might lose control. God help them if he did.
“I’m sorry,” Stephen said, setting his friend back to the ground, looking defeated and ashamed.
“I suppose ye’d like to talk now?” Alistair asked
“Can we talk alone?”
Alistair worked his way back across the room. “Only if ye promise that’s the last of the physical part of this conversation.”
Stephen nodded.
Charles interjected. “He should be cast out for putting his hands on you.”
Stephen clenched his jaw, cutting his eyes toward Charles, but quickly returning his focus to Alistair.
“I probably deserved that,” Alistair said. “We all knew Stephen would be mad for not having been told. Many advised against it. In the end, it was my decision.”
Sam motioned to Charles. “Let’s go. He will be fine. Right, Stephen?”
Stephen’s eyes never looked away from Alistair. “I promise. We just need to talk.”
Alistair understood the hurt his friend must be feeling. Anger aside, he could hear the pain in Stephen’s voice, even feel Stephen’s struggle to keep his emotions from spilling over and affecting everyone else. It made the room tense. He thought it would
be better if they were alone, realizing Stephen’s emotions would be fed by others’.
“Seriously, Father,” Alistair said. “We’ll be okay.”
As the two men left, the door closed behind them, leaving Alistair and Stephen alone. The air seemed to relax a bit, and Stephen wasted no time getting to the point.
“Why?” Stephen asked. “Why would you decide to not tell me immediately?”
Alistair sighed. “Stephen, it’s not just ye. We haven’t told anyone.”
Stephen’s shoulders slumped and his eyes softened, which helped Alistair to relax a bit as he continued. “Before ye came along, the David was less involved here. The council handled most things, and simply kept him informed. He still performed his duties, but from St. Louis. I thought it would be best that everyone think that was the situation until we had some idea as to where he is.
“Truthfully, we don’t know much. He was last seen in his quarters before he came up missing. Father reported him missing. I’m about to head to a meeting of the elders to see what we know. We’ve had very select teams out gathering information. They’ll report to all the elders. Afterward, we’ll send a communication to all Mighty.”
“I’m coming to the meeting,” Stephen said.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” Alistair replied.
“Not appropriate? We both know this has something to do with me. Everything that’s happened seems to have something to do with me and this upcoming battle,” he said, throwing his arms out in disgust.
“And that’s the problem. Since you’ve shown up, things have been changing. Ye’re the first Mighty to display all three classes. And ye aren’t just sensitive to other classes; ye have full abilities in all three. With Pastor Buchanan missing, we need a unified front more than ever.”
“I still don’t see the problem,” Stephen said.
“There have been rumblings that some people think ye should lead us, and not only in battle. We don’t want to give people the wrong idea.”
“Alistair, I don’t care about leading Enclave. You know that. I only want to do my part in finding Pastor Buchanan—the David. I would think that going to this meeting together would show people we are unified. Wouldn’t you?”
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