Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, glaring at the tablet still lying next to him. “Really, Gary, you're jerking off in a church, a church where you just beat a kid until his hands were a bloody mess. I was sent to check up on you, and I have every right to find out what you're doing. And now that I’ve seen what's going on here, I’ll be making a full report to Bishop Fitzpatrick about this.” She turned to walk away, slipping the phone into a pocket, tossing Bobby a wink.
Bobby watched with grim satisfaction as the man who had just terrorized him paled, eyes going wide as saucers. “Wait! Please don’t. I’m sorry. We can fix this; I’m sure. Anything you want,” said Father Gary in a high-pitched whine, holding his palms up, pleading for her to wait.
She stopped and turned back to Father Gary, crossing her arms under her small breasts, an almost invisible smile dancing on her lips. “Really. Anything?”
“Y-yes!” he said, breathing hard. With a lurch he staggered to his feet, bending at the waist. “Please, I really need—”
Elizabeth moved like a cat, coming nose to nose with him, poking him in the chest, startling him back. “Everything changes on how you run this place from now on; no more beatings, especially this one. Understood!” she said pointing at Bobby. “Being a Catholic you should be ashamed of what you’ve done. From now on keep your dick in your pants; nobody needs to see that little thing.”
Father Gary swallowed hard, nodding along as she spoke. “But you don’t know what he did. He shouldn’t be allowed to come here anymore,” he said, glancing at him from the corners of his eyes, frowning all the while.
“I don't care what you think he did. No more, or the pictures go to the bishop. Got it?”
“Whatever you say,” he said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
Without another word she turned on her heel, storming out, motioning for Bobby to follow once again. When they had gotten far enough away, she looked back at him with her brilliant smile that made his heart beat faster. “That was fun!” she said bouncing on the balls of her feet. “That self-righteous prick finally got what he deserved.”
Bobby looked down at his shoes, an uncontrollable smile creeping onto his face. “Thank you. That was amazing! You’re like a superhero.”
Her smile grew wider as she blushed at him. “It was nothing. I volunteered with the bishop so I could help people,” said Elizabeth. “It really pisses me off when I meet people like Gary, who spend all of their time judging others, then turn around to do the same or worse, so I’m glad to see justice served.”
They smiled at one another for a moment before she turned to leave, Bobby wringing his battered hands, not sure what else to say. Without a word, Elizabeth leaned in giving him a small kiss on his cheek. “You should be fine from here,” she said. “I’ll be back every week for inspections from now on, but you can call me if anyone messes with you again. I’m here for you.”
Then, just like that she was gone…and he was alone, empty, sad and happy all at once, his entire life changed in the blink of an eye.
Chapter 4: Shadow and Light
2063
Bobby clutched the ragged wound at his side, growing colder with each passing moment while his blood spilled onto the rooftop, pooling beneath him. Andrew, his former teammate, stood over him with an odd gleam in his eye, watching him die.
“I’m sorry it has to be like this, Bobby,” said Andrew, squatting down beside him, running a hand through his thick mane of shoulder-length blond hair. “Don’t worry. It’ll be over quick: five minutes, tops, and you’ll bleed out. Least I can do for an old friend.”
Staring hard at Andrew, Bobby could almost believe that the handsome idiot was doing him a favor by killing him quickly, that Andrew was full of mercy. He had that way about him: people liked him, trusted him…until it was too late.
“I never liked you,” said Bobby spitting a glob of blood onto Andrew’s boot, his breath rattling in his throat from the effort. “I just wanted it to be clear before I die that we were never friends.”
Andrew gave him a half smile, tapping him on the shoulder. “You know, Bobby, that’s why people don’t like you. Even with your dying breath, you just can’t be nice. You just have to be a prick all the time, don’t you!”
Bobby gritted his teeth through the pain, struggling to sit up. Glancing toward the park, he fixated on the churning maelstrom of lightning and flame devouring everything in its path. “Is that the plan; destroy the city?” he asked in a flat tone, trying to distract Andrew with talk while he focused his attention inward, searching, using his ability to scan the general area. It didn’t take very long to find what he needed: people, lots of people. The building was brimming, and he could sense them all. From the old lady staring with awe and wonder at the destruction outside her window, to the family of four with their beautiful children, so perfect and innocent, rushing around their apartment haphazardly packing in an attempt to flee whatever was happening. There were more on the street; so many more.
Andrew followed Bobby’s gaze out over the devastation in the park. “We’re doing the right thing here; this has to be done. Trust me, Bobby. In the end, the world will see us as heroes once they know the truth. You, you’re on the wrong side of this.”
Bobby knew he didn’t have much time now, there were dark spots in the corners of his vision, and he was light-headed. Taking a quivering breath, he grasped at the tiny spark in him, fumbling along half-blind with rage. He fanned the flames of anger in him, growing it like a living thing, cajoling and coaxing it until it was raging bonfire, enough to consume the entire building, every soul on the street. With a roar he released it, draining every life he could feel, turning them to ash, all to save himself. For the first time unleashing this power he was fully conscious. He felt the family fall to their knees, their skin sagging and turning gray, sensed the woman watching from her window as her heart failed, and the blood in her veins darkened and turned to dust. Bobby was overwhelmed by the rush of energy that flowed through him, and he was like Tantalus finally having a sip of cool water, drowning in ecstasy.
Beside him, Andrew’s eyes flew open wide with shock, his face contorting in pain when struck by the wave of dark energy. Reflexively, the handsome man did the only thing he could: transforming into a being of pure white light, his flesh and blood becoming immune to his attack. Bobby remembered the first time Andrew changed like this, the reverends who oversaw the Ascension program fell over themselves, claiming it was a sign from God, that the Lord had sent an angel to live among them. Even with his deep faith in all that was holy, he knew it was bullshit. To make matters worse, the wave of admiration Andrew received went to his already inflated ego, serving to make Bobby hate him all the more.
With a surge of life running through him, Bobby kicked up from his back, vaulting to his feet like he was never hurt, the wound on his side vanished. Before he could lash out at his former friend, Andrew took to the air, leaving a streak of amber light in his wake. Without pause Bobby unleashed a primal scream, expanding his shadow field again, bigger this time. Like an intense fire devouring an ancient forest, he consumed everything, growing his power beyond his imagining. Watching his friend flee he raised both hands, projecting hundreds of wire-thin tendrils of black and red smoke from his fingertips, all racing toward the light, hungry to consume it.
Andrew flew with reckless abandon, wildly dodging and weaving in all directions desperate to avoid his fate. Just as the tendrils were about to touch him, he changed tactics, releasing a blinding starburst that drove the shadows away from him and left Bobby reeling. Even from a distance he was stumbling around half-blind like he had stared too long at the sun. Seeing an opening, Andrew was on him in a heartbeat, his energy form slicing through Bobby’s dense skin like it was paper-mache, leaving deep defensive gashes in his forearms as he fought to protect his vitals. Bobby drew harder from the lives around him, and the wounds healed just as quickly as they happened: the janitor racing from the back of the building, the police officers
he had thrown to the ground, the fleeing crowds blocks away, all ash, providing him with the strength to fight on.
Andrew came at him again, breaking his concentration with a blinding series of strikes aimed for his chest and face. Bobby was quick, ducking low and releasing a torrent of dark energy that sent Andrew careening through the air, but still not quick enough. Andrew managed a glancing blow, clipping him on his side and knocking him to the edge of the rooftop.
Staggering to his feet, he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the barrage of lightning, wind and flame, which had grown to encompass the buildings surrounding the Common, the shockwave consuming everything in its path. In a heartbeat the blast wave pounded him with the force of a locomotive, knocking him back like he was a rag doll hurled by a giant. He tumbled through air, blind, landing hard on his back, sliding to the other end of the rooftop, smashing through the retaining wall on the other side of the building. Bobby found himself pinned under brick mortar and steel with the entire world around him ablaze, trapped and alone in the dark.
Chapter 5: Rumors and Lies
2061
Elizabeth was true to her word and began visiting the church every week. She also insisted to Father Gary, that Bobby would serve as her liaison, updating her on the progress made from week to week on the restoration. For Bobby it was a dream, because her visits meant no more abuse, verbal or otherwise, from Father Gary. In fact, he was so afraid of her that he rarely spoke to him anymore, and when he did it was little more than a few mumbled words about work or the occasional hate-filled glare. No one ever spoke again of his punishment and why it happened.
He soon looked forward to her visits, almost bouncing on his heels when he heard the click clack of her boots on granite. The stolen moments he spent with her became the highlight of his weeks, and for the first time in his life he felt normal and not like some weird creep. All of his physical ailments vanished. The hollow feeling of hunger in his belly wasn’t important, and the numbing cold of the drafty hostel he slept in didn’t bother him. Elizabeth was the kindest person he had ever met. She genuinely cared for people and always stood up for the underdog. The hardest part of it all was he couldn’t explain why. Why she gave him the time of day, and why she liked him.
As winter gave way to spring, they were able to spend time outdoors, enjoying the beauty of Copley Square, and once the workday was done, wandering off to the Common, enjoying the budding trees of early spring. Bobby was grateful to be away from prying eyes, and sideways glances. Each time they appeared together whispers would start in earnest, and the entire group who worked at the church seemed to only have rumors on their tongue. Bobby didn’t care; they could gossip all they wanted.
“We need to talk about something,” she said one spring afternoon as they were strolling arm in arm around the frog pond, enjoying the warm sun.
“What? Why! I thought everything was okay,” he said as a wave of fear washed over him, racking his brain trying to understand what he did wrong.
“No, nothing like that,” she said, giving a playful shove. “People are starting to talk, and I’m beginning to worry that what we do will get back to Bishop Fitzpatrick, so we have to be more discreet.”
A frown creased Bobby’s face as he looked out over the duck pond. “I don’t care what other people think. Besides, we’re just hanging.”
“Yeah, but I do care. I work for the bishop, and I have responsibilities, a reputation to maintain. You don’t want people thinking I’m some sort of a whore, do you? Not to mention it looks bad that I’m older than you.”
“Older by just two years, and you’re an adult. The bishop can’t stop you from having a life outside of your work from him—and if anyone called you a whore I would murder them!” said Bobby, narrowing his eyes.
“Yeah, about that,” she said, looking down at her feet, clearing her throat “What's the deal? We’ve been at this for a few months now, and I think I’ve made it pretty clear I like you…and I know you like me…so why haven’t we, you know…”
Bobby felt his face flush as his pulse quickened. He pulled away from her and shoved his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to say or where to start, terrified to tell the truth. “No one's ever liked me like that before,” he blurted out, hoping it was enough. “I mean, I want too, but—”
“Okay, good. That makes more sense than what I heard,” she said, taking back his hand and giving him a coy smile. “When I come by next week, then, I know the perfect spot up in the bell tower. It’ll be fun, and we can be as loud as we want!”
“What did you hear about me?” he said, stopping abruptly and turning her toward him.
“Nothing,” she said, her smile fading. “Just rumors; people saying I’m not your type.”
“You’re sure that's it?”
“Y-Yes. Why are you freaking out? It's just bullshit, like you said, right? Did you not hear what I just said about next week?”
Bobby let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, suddenly feeling weak at the knees. “I’m sorry, it's just whenever life starts going too good for me, things have a way of falling apart. I just don’t want anything to come between us.”
“Nothing’s gonna come between us,” she said softly, pulling him close. “We have all the time in the world.”
His lips found hers, slow at first, then faster, and he drank her in, like a man dying of thirst, his heart pounding in his ears. Having her in his arms, feeling her warmth with the warm spring breeze filling his lungs, he felt something he had never felt before: hope for the future.
Chapter 6: The Tomb
2063
He didn’t remember the building falling on him, only waking in the dark, with the weight of the world on his chest, gasping for breath. Alone in the dark he shuddered, his belly twisting in knots—he had failed. Elizabeth and Andrew had escaped, and he may as well be dead. It was clear they had accomplished what they set out to do. He couldn’t sense anything, no matter how far he reached out with his power, there was nothing alive up above. He was trapped in a city of the dead, completely alone.
Reaching out, blindly, his fingers brushed against jagged stone and metal just inches from his face, using his hands as a guide he realized he was in a space not much bigger than an air vent given how little he could move. His legs were trapped under something heavy and metallic, but luckily he had feeling in them, could even wiggle them somewhat. A human would have no hope for survival, but he was Ascended, chosen by God to stand above, to be more than human. He had the power to do remarkable things, and he had no plans to die like a rat buried in shit.
From his back he braced himself, pushing against the weight sitting on his legs. Sucking in a deep breath Bobby gave it everything he had: grunting, straining, his arms trembling like a vibrating guitar string until he was drenched in sweat. The stone moved a hair, the twisted metal all around him screeching in warning that it could all collapse in a heartbeat. His breath caught in his throat as he pushed harder, the load shifting more, stinging grit and dust falling into his eyes nearly breaking his concentration. Bobby gasped in relief as his legs suddenly came free, and he scrambled back, pulling his legs in close and curling into a ball. Bobby stopped to rest a moment, his heart pounding as he gulped down great lungfuls of stale dusty air. He patted himself off, grateful to be in one piece. Hunting through the many pockets of his red coat he found his phone, turning on its flashlight and bathing the area in a cool white glow.
Looking around he realized the space was smaller than he imagined, the tons of rock and metal above him held back by a fallen support beam, sitting at enough of an odd angle to keep him from being crushed entirely.
After his Ascension, his superiors had tested and measured him, defined the limits of his power, his strength. Today, after draining the energy from so many, not only were his wounds healed, he felt like it was possible to do the impossible. Today he learned that he had far more power than he knew, and now he would push beyond those limits, or he would die here
forgotten and alone. Blinking the grit from his eyes he positioned himself, squatting down so he could use the full measure of his strength to push back on the collapsed structure. driving himself to his limits and beyond.
***
When he finally emerged from his concrete tomb, he found himself in a waking nightmare, devoid of hope. The entire section of the city was little more than dust and shattered bricks with not a soul in sight for as far as he could see or feel. He staggered around in a haze of confusion, finally finding the courage after a time to visit the edge of where the park once began, his eyes growing wider with each step. Where there was once a lush park full of life, he found only a blackened crater, so deep the bottom was invisible from sight. Tearing his gaze away from the dark pit his eyes were drawn to the horizon. There was nothing standing as far as he could see, not a single building, tree, nor car: everything was dead. A hollow feeling formed in the pit of his stomach, knowing what he did to survive, the cost of his life measured by those he took. Amid the destruction, he couldn’t be sure who was responsible, Elizabeth…or him.
He didn’t know how long he remained like that, for some reason he kept expecting someone, anyone, to come. There should be first responders, police, paramedics, the military. When his phone chimed, he jumped in surprise. Shaking off his stupor he fished it out of his coat, holding it flat on his open palm. “O’Connell here,” he rasped, his voice rough like sandpaper.
The voice on the other end was deep, comforting and frightening all at once. “Robert, what have you done?” it said simply. The words were in the form of a question, but the tone was full of anger and accusation.
Children of the Spear (Novella): Origin Page 3