by Richard Lee
Lost in thought, Peter didn’t pay attention to the area in front of him and collided with another cruiser.
His cruiser spun and headed for the ground. Fear activated Rachael’s vocal cords. Peter was relaxed. He handled the holo controls as if he had been doing it his entire life. He blocked Rachael’s screams and concentrated on the controls. A red light was flashing. A bunch of numbers flashed on the windscreen. They were decreasing quickly. He knew the final number would be zero and zero equaled the ground.
He caught a glimpse of the other cruiser. It was stable and seemed to be landing.
Pulling into the spin, he felt the cruiser’s velocity slow.
Suddenly they flipped. The cruiser automatically adjusted and returned to an upright position. That was when Peter saw the other cruiser coming at them again. It slammed into the side and sent them flying sideways in the air. The back of the cruiser clipped a tree and spun again.
The other cruiser moved fast, coming at them in a downward angle. Peter braced himself because there was nothing he could do.
“That mother-fucker’s dead,” he whispered as the back of the cruiser’s roof crumpled in from the impact. The nose of the cruiser went up and they felt the deadfall that followed.
The cruiser landed at a ninety-degree angle. For a second it stayed upright before crashing sideways. The impact pushed torn metal into the back of Peter’s seat. He felt the points touch him, but they didn’t push through. He hoped Rachael was also fine. The windscreen spidered and the red light went dead.
Dazed, he checked on Rachael. She was unconscious but didn’t look injured.
Through the smashed windscreen, he saw the other cruiser. It had smashed into a tree. Stream rose from the crumpled hood. The door opened and a man fell out. He was moving slowly, trying to get to his feet. A weapon was stuck in the man’s pants. It resembled a handgun but like none Peter had seen before.
Peter moved fast.
He punched out the windscreen and scrambled out of the cruiser. His legs were rubbery at first but anger pushed energy into them. From the back of his pants, he removed the dagger and advanced on the man quickly.
He picked the guy up by his hair and threw him against the cruiser. The man pulled out his gun and Peter spun. His kick knocked it out of the man’s hand.
The man tensed and readied for a confrontation, but suddenly relaxed. He smiled. “You’re Peter,” he said. His voice was a tad shaky.
“And you’re dead,” Peter replied. He flipped the dagger around for a backhand slash.
“Please.” The man raised his hands in front of his face. “I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t realize it had started yet.”
The words stopped Peter.
“The book said you’d return. There’s so many of us now. Please, I thought you were a cop. That is why I crashed into you.” The man dropped to his knees. “Please,” he whispered, “I’ve been waiting my whole life to follow you.”
Against his better judgment and anger, Peter put the dagger away.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name’s Telly. I run a popular bar in the Area of Lost Hope.”
Peter smiled. “Not a good name for a town,” he said.
“We’ve been waiting for you.”
Rachael cried out.
“I’m looking for something important. Can you help me find it?”
Telly nodded. “I recently met a lady. She’s very good at finding things and people.”
“Can you trust her?”
Again Rachael called out to him.
Telly looked in her direction. “She tried to kill me. But I have an idea where to find her.”
Peter wasn’t so sure, but he had nothing else to go on. “Follow me,” he said and headed to Rachael.
And that was how they met Telly and discovered he was a very resourceful fellow. One hell of a way to meet someone, Peter thought with a smile, but it didn’t take long for him to begin to trust the man. At the moment he trusted Telly more than he did Rachael, and that was saddening. It put even more question marks on the girl he was lying with. Was she really his dream girl? He thought so.
He liked being with her and being inside her. When she spoke, he listened. He thought about her constantly and wanted to be at her side always. But could he trust her? That was his main concern.
It seemed not all dreams were perfect.
He would have to keep an eye on her. She seemed undecided but was going along for the ride. He couldn’t have that. His way, the highway, or no way.
Peter hoped he was just being paranoid. He knew the time of the battle was near and he was nervous from the excitement. All he had to do was open the file and read out loud the book he had written. All he had to do was read the first paragraph...
“Oh fuck!” He jumped to his feet, grabbed his clothes and started dressing quickly. Like a mirage, the memory appeared before him, surfacing through the deep darkness of his subconscious, and he remembered.
In a voice produced from startled restfulness, Rachael said, “Oh my God, what? What?” She was sitting up and followed Peter’s lead in getting dressed.
“The cross will invert itself,” he said excitedly. “I had totally forgotten.”
“I don’t understand.”
“When I wrote the book, I knew this factor.” Tucking his shirt into his pants and knowing he was talking way too fast, almost ranting, to make a lot of sense, he said, “The book came to me in a dream. Well, I wasn’t actually dreaming, I was dozing on the sofa.” He smiled. “For a split second an image popped into my head. I was writing the first paragraph when it happened.” He tightened his belt. “The moment that image appeared, I knew what I was writing. The book I was truly writing. It was something no one had ever written before, something no one else could do, but I had managed it. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I was chosen. But in all the years since I wrote that, I’d somehow forgotten what it was truly about and had convinced myself it was a wish book.”
Rachael was dressing slowly. She was looking up at him with confusion plastered on her face. “I’m lost, Peter,” she said softly.
Kneeling in front of her, he cupped her beautiful head in his hands and whispered, “The re-entry of evil, my love. The re-entry of evil.” Now he understood everything. He wasn’t going to give people in this world every wish they wanted. No. Instead he was going to give the world to someone else.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Peter headed for the door in a mad rush. Rachael followed quickly. Soon the world would be in utter chaos and only he and Rachael would stand tall. He doubted she understood his mad speech a minute ago and he didn’t really care. He understood and remembered, and that was all that mattered.
The emotions charging through him felt great. He hadn’t felt like this since...since he took out No Neck and the girlfriend. It almost matched his excitement with Terry, exploding into her as he sliced her neck. This was so perfect he felt himself growing hard.
Briefly, he wondered what the impending feeling would be like when he handed over the people on this god-forsaken rock.
Ecstasy? Overwhelming? Exaltation? Ultimate bliss beyond his wildest dreams?
All that and more, he reasoned. Not having a base to work from, he could only guess. But he considered them educated guesses nonetheless.
Then again, it could be his worst nightmare. He had no idea what would happen after the first paragraph was read. But it didn’t worry him in the least, nothing could be as bad as being locked in the dagger and he doubted that would happen again.
He only had two concerns as he jumped down the steps of Steve’s house. The more important of the two was finding his computer and the second was how much opposition would he have to face?
He kicked open the gate and stepped onto the road. He waited for Rachael to catch up. If he knew where to go there would be no need to wait for her. But Area City was a complex maze of streets, alleys, bridges, and houses, all built inside the dome for their protection. Wh
ich was down and obviously hadn’t been repaired, since he could clearly see the sky and jagged white lines of electricity jumping up from disconnected poles and biting the clouds.
Far off in the distance a black dot was heading this way and growing larger. He watched it closely as Rachael reached him. She stood next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist. Peter stepped forward, letting the arm fall from him. He didn’t recognize the cruiser coming this way, but as it grew closer he thought he recognized the person behind the controls. And wondered how it was possible to fly with the dome down.
Watching the cruiser advance quickly, he remembered what Rachael had said before the crash: “Only government and emergency services can fly and use the Net during a possible dome problem.” “Emergency power source? Like a generator?” he asked. “I guess so,” she’d answered.
Telly’s a resourceful man, he thought. How does one find an unmarked government cruiser?
The excitement Peter felt was slowly being replaced with anger. He was growing more and more pissed off. His nerves were tense and his joints hurt. Rachael put her hand on his shoulder. The sudden touch shocked him like a spear driven into his side. He spun around and faced her.
Rachael’s eyes were watery. A solitary tear dropped from her left eye, it ran down her cheek and disappeared under her chin.
Peter’s anger vanished. He put his hands on both sides of her head and softly said, “I’m sorry. This is very important and I can’t fuck it up. One shot, that’s all I have.” He watched her nod. “For us,” he added. “This is all for us.”
Rachael moved into his arms. Her hug was tight around him. He responded in kind and silently sighed, frustration exiting with the breath.
“We’re not the good guys, are we?” she said against his shoulder. Her voice was small and soft but the words were clear.
“The good guys don’t always win,” he responded.
The sound of the cruiser’s landing jets shot up around them.
Without looking up, Peter said, “Telly’s here.”
Rachael pushed herself away from Peter as he turned to face the landed cruiser.
The driver’s door slid away and Telly struggled out of the control compartment with a look of accomplishment.
“I said I would find you,” Peter said. “Not the other way around.”
Telly’s smile faded slightly. “I thought you’d want to know,” he said, shooting a glance at Rachael. His eyes quickly ran down her body and returned to Peter.
Making a note of the scan Telly gave Rachael for later punishment, Peter said, “I already know. Take me to her.”
“That’s the thing. She’s not alone. There’s like four or five others and it seems like the entire population of the city is heading there also.”
“Of course they are.” Peter smiled. He could feel the anger returning, but it suddenly dawned on him and he realized it wasn’t anger, it was hate. Hate for all of God’s creatures.
He now knew who and what he was.
Ami held Dennis’ hand. They slowly walked along the road. Dennis was staring at the white painted centerline. Some cruisers still smoldered from the night before while others looked like they been in an earthquake of extreme proportions. Torn and sometimes burnt paper blew against their legs, along with junk food wrappers and a mixed jumble of other rubbish. Some houses had torn off shutters and smashed windows.
Ami had been lucky. One of the few, she was sure. Having an apartment on the third floor had possibly saved her from the gangs and crazies. Unfortunately, the lunatic sounds had ruined the life Dennis once knew. How many others were suffering, all because of Williamson and his warmonger stance?
“Pick up your feet,” she said.
“Why?” His voice sounded spiteful.
“There are a few emergency centers in the city. We’re going to the only one I know of.”
“I don’t want to go there.”
“You have no choice.”
Dennis stopped walking. “Yes, I do,” he spat. “You’re not my mother.”
“That’s right. I’m not your mother. Your mother is dead. D-E-A-D. Right along with your father. They are both gone, Dennis.” In a softer voice she said, “Please try to understand what that means.”
The boy looked at the ground. “I know what that means.”
“But can you understand what it means?”
“It means they are dead,” he said in a loud voice. “That’s what...” His voice choked on the last word. “That what it means,” he managed through sobs.
“Honey,” Ami said, kneeling down to be at eye level. “It means they are gone forever. You can’t speak to them, listen to them, or fight against them.” She reached for his hand and he let her take it. “My friend Father Michael can help find your relatives. He’s at the emergency centre. Until then, you have to trust and listen to me. We don’t know what the city will be like. Remember the bombs?”
Dennis nodded.
“Shall we continue?”
He nodded again.
“No more tantrums, okay?”
“Okay.” His voice was small but clear. He looked up at her. His eyes were red and shiny. “Gone,” he said.
It was Ami’s turn to nod.
“I have an uncle,” he stated.
“And my friend will find him.”
Standing up, Ami searched the road ahead. The closer they got to the city, the worse everything looked. The road was smashed apart. The houses and fences around that section were destroyed. Bits of wire and wood fences lay on the road and only parts of houses remained. Shattered glass glistened on the torn and jagged concrete.
“We have to watch our footing from here on,” Ami said. And watch for crazies, she thought but did not add.
They walked in silence, hand in hand. Quickly they neared the curve. The torn concrete was worse than she had first thought. They had to leave the road and push past ripped fences, edge around a large hole in one property, and in one case they had to use the backyard. The house next to it was destroyed. To get back to the road they had to climb over rubble and pieces of steel bomb casing.
Reaching the end of the curve, Ami searched the top of the only significant hill in Area City. On top of it, standing proud and looking untouched, was Father Michael’s church and emergency centre.
It was at least an hour walk with Dennis at her side. She wanted to get there as quickly as possible. Being on the streets was dangerous. She was tired from the walk and mentally tired from constant searching. Continuously keeping an eye out for anything remotely suspicious. But she hadn’t noticed anything. She had checked bushes and shadows closely and warily of any place where a person could hide and found nothing, nada, zip.
At the base of the hill, where a driveway led up to the cemetery, Ami saw an extremely large gathering of people. It didn’t seem possible. Why would so many people come to this emergency centre? There were a dozen she could think of, not including schools and community centers.
“Come on,” she said to Dennis. The boy was sitting on an upraised sheet of concrete. “I know you’re tired, we’re almost there. I promise—” She crossed her chest. “—and hope to die if I tell I lie.” She smiled. Dennis followed. She knew he didn’t know that expression but that didn’t matter, he understood what she meant and that was all that mattered. Right?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It was a small cruiser, obviously not built for comfort and most likely not for three fully grown adults either. What it was built for was speed and height. And it sure had that. Peter felt like a large sardine in a can.
Letting Telly drive, Peter concentrated on the upcoming job. He had a nagging feeling that something was still unresolved, but for the life of him couldn’t think what that might be. Many possibilities had flown through his mind for the last ten minutes they’d been in the air, but none seemed feasible.
“Land this thing,” he ordered Telly.
“But we’re almost there.”
“Land now, you m
indless fuck!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Telly shrunk as close to his door as he could. “Whatever you say, boss.” He punched a couple of lights and the cruiser’s landing program started.
They landed vertically. A cloud of dust and dirt swirled around as the wheels touched the road. Ahead of them was a curve. The road leading to it, including houses on both sides, was destroyed.
Peter thumbed his door open, swung his legs out and stood between two smoldering cruisers. The pungent aroma of burnt crisp vinyl and plastic assaulted his nostrils. He folded his arms and slowly walked past them. He heard the other doors open quietly behind him.
He strode onto a lawn and focused on what was missing but it eluded him. There was something he needed to do. What was it!
Rachael placed her arms around Peter. He clasped her hands against his stomach. She held him tightly. His dream woman, the one he was meant to grow old with. The one he had killed with, the one who had helped him kill.
She’s not the problem, he told himself, don’t get carried away with what needs to be done. Don’t be selfish.
Rachael kissed his neck, soft and tender.
It’s not her.
Softly she whispered, “I love you, Peter. Ever since I was a child I’ve wanted you.”
He turned and kissed her deeply. Opening his eyes during the kiss, he saw Telly standing next to the cruiser, his hands in his pockets, his gaze averted.
God sends his children to do his work.
The demon had taught him that.
His hands squeezed the ass cheeks of his dream woman. One hand slowly moved up her back and rested on her shoulder. His other hand went to the dagger. He took half a step away from her. Their eyes locked.
“Peter?” she whispered, a hint of fear glistened her features.
“No attachments,” Peter said, pulling the dagger from the back of his pants. He kept it out of sight behind his back. This was wrong, it went against all his plans, and it ruined everything. But it felt so right. It felt perfect.