Immortals

by Jan Kopia

  “We have to do something Ethan. What’s the alternative? Stand around and wait to die? If we’re going to go down, we may as well go down fighting. I would have thought a soldier would feel the same way.”

  She was right and he knew it, but the pain of losing his mother had destroyed the fight in him.

  “I know you don’t really want to hear this right now,” Midge said carefully. “But maybe we should be praying.”

  “Prayer?” Ethan said, turning his eyes on her. “You think prayer will help?”

  She shrugged. "It can't hurt."

  Ethan sighed deeply. “No, I suppose it—"

  He stopped short as he heard commotion coming from inside the building. Something new was brewing and he felt his heart sink with terror. What now? What new disaster, plague, catastrophe had occurred now? He could see the worry on Midge’s face too as they both darted back inside the building.

  “What’s happening?” Ethan asked Blair Courtney, one of the politicians who had been included in the Initiative.

  “A news story just broke,” he replied. “Apparently some researcher has found proof of Hell.”

  Ethan felt his heart falter. “What do you mean?”

  Courtney was so frazzled that he didn’t answer Ethan. Instead he walked off to the table where other politicians were sitting, leaving Ethan to look around for answers.

  “Come on,” said Midge, beside him.

  They walked to the head of the room where the special service team was sitting. Ethan knew Sergeant Armstrong reasonably well. He had thirty years of service under his belt.

  “Sergeant,” Ethan said, nodding his head as he approached. “What’s happened?”

  “Breaking news,” Sergeant Armstrong replied. “A reporter, James Halsey, has cracked a story. He infiltrated the laboratory of a research team and leaked their findings.”

  “Which were?”

  “Recordings of what experts are claiming is—"

  “Hell?”

  Sergeant Armstrong looked sick. He nodded slowly and Ethan felt his knees go weak. Could this really be happening? If there was such a thing as Hell, then that meant… No. There was no such thing as God. How could there be?

  “Oh my God,” Ethan heard a voice behind him. He didn’t bother turning around, he just stood there trying to make sense of what was happening. “This is it… the apocalypse. The world is really ending. Every religion promises the same thing. And now it’s really here—”

  Ethan shook his head and left the room. He was vaguely aware of Midge calling out his name, but he ignored her and kept walking until he found a quiet corridor. He picked up his phone and dialed. He knew that his mother’s nurse would pick up.

  “Hello?”

  “Lisa, it’s Ethan. Can you put my mother on the phone?”

  There was a long pause on the other line. “Uh, Ethan, you know your mother isn't capable of a conversation,” Lisa said gently.

  “I know. Please, just do it. I need to hear her voice.”

  “Hold on,” Lisa replied.

  Ethan waited impatiently as he heard some noise on the line. “I’m going to hold the phone up to her ear,” said Lisa, before he heard his mother's breathing.

  “Mum,” said Ethan. “Mum, are you all right?”

  “I can hear their screams.” She wasn't clear, but Ethan could hear her. It was like an alien was using his mother’s voice. “It’s terrible. So much pain. The Gods… the Gods… beware the fallen angel. Please… the Gods.”

  “Mum,” Ethan said. “Mum, please. I don’t know what’s happening.”

  “The Gods are dying… the Gods… the Gods…”

  She kept repeating it over and over again, oblivious to Ethan’s desperate appeals. She was saying the same words even as Ethan hung up the phone and stared helplessly at the empty wall in front of him. He had been an atheist his whole life. Maybe it was time to re-evaluate his belief system.

  Maybe it was time to pray.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Patrick, will you please tell me what’s going on?”

  The leaves under Patrick’s feet crunched angrily as he paced back and forth. “Mum, I can’t explain it to you now,” he said, trying to keep his tone calm and reassuring. “But I will when I get back. I promise. How is Tess?”

  “The same,” Patrick’s mother replied. “The doctors are saying—"

  “I know what the doctors are saying,” Patrick said, cutting her off. “I don’t care. She’s staying on life support.”

  “They’re worried she’s losing brain functionality—"

  “Tess is strong. She’s going to be fine. I’m going to make sure she’s fine.”

  “You should be with her right now. I don’t understand why you left. I know the world is going crazy. I know your work is important to you, but surely, Tess is more important?”

  “She is," said Patrick, "which is exactly why I had to leave.”

  “Patrick—"

  “I have to go, mum, I’m sorry.”

  “No, wait—"

  “Give Tess a kiss from me,” he said, and hung up.

  He stood there staring at the line of trees in front of him, ignoring his phone when it started to ring again. He heard the faint rustle of approaching footsteps and turned to find Diane moving slowly towards him. She had a thick kaftan wrapped around her shoulders. It wasn’t cold at all; in fact, it bordered on warm, but Diane was always cold.

  “Have you heard from Blythe?” he asked. It was probably the fiftieth time he'd asked her that since they'd made the cabin their temporary hideaway.

  Diane sighed. “Not since this morning,” she replied. “He’s going to need a little more time.”

  “This is taking forever,” Patrick said, looking upwards at the darkening sky.

  “You expected it to be easy?” Diane asked, raising one eyebrow.

  Patrick bit his tongue. “I just… I hate all this waiting around. It makes me feel helpless.”

  “I know,” Diane said gently. “But this is complicated. Blythe needs to arrange a secure room at the hospital, and all the equipment he'll need. And he needs to do it discreetly.”

  Patrick nodded. He knew all this already. But the waiting was harder than he'd expected it to be. He'd been spending his time flipping through his news feed, reading about the newest disaster or unexplained phenomena to rock the world. That, and dodging Antonia’s calls.

  It was as if Diane had read his mind. “I have news about Antonia—”

  Patrick turned to her in a sudden panic. “Is she all right?” he demanded.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Diane said calmly. “Livid, but fine.”

  Patrick frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You haven’t checked your news feed yet, have you?” Diane asked. “The news broke thirteen minutes ago.”

  Patrick froze for a moment. “What? Did she discover something significant?”

  “She did,” Diane nodded. “But she wasn’t the one who publicized her findings. James Halsey is the reporter that did it. He got his hands on restricted files from Antonia’s personal office and then revealed the information she'd been sitting on.”

  Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Which was what?”

  “It seems Antonia and her team have stumbled across proof of Hell.”

  “Hell?” Patrick repeated.

  Diane nodded. “She had recordings, concentrated in one particular region, far above the earth’s surface. It sounds like people in torment, crying out in pain and hopelessness. The most desperate sound I’ve ever heard in my life.

  She shuddered and Patrick felt the warmth leave his body. “You heard it?”

  “James Halsey released everything—”

  “That’s a crime,” Patrick pointed out.

  “He’s trying to sidestep that little problem,” Diane said. “He claims his intentions were noble. He felt it was his duty to inform the world. He says he's doing a public service.”

  Patrick saw the scowl growing
on Diane's face. “Are you having a vision? What do you see?” he asked.

  “He doesn't know the chaos he has unleashed,” Diane said. “Antonia was right not to put her findings out there. It’s not something the world can handle.”

  “What have you seen?” Patrick asked.

  “People dying,” Diane said shortly.

  Patrick took a deep breath and turned his face back to the line of trees. “We’re running out of time.”

  “Blythe asked us to give him a few more days… a week at most.”

  Patrick nodded in resignation. His fingers itched to pick up the phone and call Antonia, but he resisted the urge. They had taken separate paths. He had to walk his alone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The building had an off-white façade and the overall look of neglect about it. But it was sturdy, it was safe and, most important of all, it was private.

  Antonia got out of the passenger seat and opened the gates for Caleb to drive through. Once the van was parked, Antonia opened up its back doors so that Victoria and Rebecca could get out.

  “Is the equipment okay?” Antonia asked.

  “Of course,” Rebecca said. “All good.”

  Antonia nodded. “It’s going to take us a while to set up in here.”

  “We’ll manage,” Victoria said, giving her a reassuring smile.

  Antonia watched as Caleb started to unload some of the lighter machinery. They’d had to be selective about the equipment they chose to take with them. After that asshole James stole her private research and sold it to the highest bidder, the government had stepped in. Officially, the lab had been closed. Unofficially, the research continued. Of course, that posed a number of different concerns, not least among them was: where could Antonia and her team go?

  The building that had been found for them was an abandoned one-story structure about ten miles from the city. It wasn't ideal, but it was something. Antonia tried to push away her resentment and focus on the positive, but there were moments that left her drained of hope or positivity.

  She'd been thinking of Patrick more and more in the last few days since the ‘discovery of hell’ had made headlines. Suddenly, the stories Diane had told the two of them — it seemed like a lifetime ago — didn’t seem so outlandish.

  “Antonia?” said Victoria, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Sorry,” she replied. “I was… preoccupied.”

  “You seem to be preoccupied quite a bit lately,” Victoria said. “Not that I can blame you.”

  “It’s not fair,” Rebecca said, joining them. “He ripped us off. That was our work, our research. We should sue.”

  “I spoke to a few different lawyers,” Antonia admitted. “They all told me the same thing. Given what’s happening in the world right now, we'd lose. James has the higher moral ground here— he can claim a 'vital public interest'.”

  “How on Earth—"

  “He wanted to inform the world, he wanted to enlighten them,” said Antonia, cutting Rebecca off. “We wanted to keep them in the dark.”

  Rebecca scoffed. “People are the worst.”

  Antonia glanced at Victoria, who looked thoroughly amused by Rebecca’s annoyance. Over the last week, Victoria Bader had become a fixture in Antonia’s life. She was deeply fascinating, and part of that fascination came from her intrinsic mystery. She didn’t say much about herself; what little she did share was extremely vague.

  It hadn’t mattered much to Antonia, because when it came to the research Victoria had a lot to say. She was a scientist and a doctor who had come to believe in magic, and that had helped Antonia become more open-minded herself. She had tried a purely factual, scientific approach, and it had only gotten her so far. Now, Antonia was determined to explore every single option, no matter how ridiculous, before writing it off.

  “Come on,” Antonia said. “Let’s get inside and set up—”

  “Uh, Antonia?” said Caleb.

  “Yes?”

  “Once we set up, what are we doing?” he asked. “What are we looking for? I mean, I know you and Victoria have your theory about quantum entanglement, but how the hell do we set about proving it?”

  Antonia hesitated. “I— I have no idea,” she admitted, feeling cold suddenly, without knowing why. “I suppose we do what we’ve always done. Keep searching until we stumble across something we can use.”

  She felt Victoria’s eyes on her. It made her feel extremely self-conscious and vulnerable at the same time. But a part of her was intensely grateful that fate had put Victoria in her life. Between the two of them, Antonia was confident they could figure out what was happening to Earth and how to stop it.

  They spent the better part of the day cleaning out one room and setting up their equipment. By the time they were done, it was early evening, and the sun had long since disappeared. The darkness was oppressive as Antonia and her team gathered together with cold sandwiches and warm beers for a much-needed break.

  Antonia had just taken a bite of her teriyaki chicken sandwich when Caleb’s phone pinged with a message alert. He glanced at his phone and then did a double take. Antonia felt her heart sink. What now? What God-awful calamity had befallen Earth now?

  “What’s happened?” Rebecca asked, sitting up a little straighter and putting down her beer.

  Caleb said nothing. His head turned up and his eyes fell on Antonia.

  “Caleb,” she said slowly. “Tell us.”

  “There’s this kid… he committed suicide a few minutes ago. He live-streamed the whole thing.”

  “He filmed his own suicide?” Antonia asked.

  “Yes,” Caleb nodded. “And he had our recordings playing in the background when he did it.”

  “Our recordings?” Rebecca gasped. “The ones that James stole?”

  “Yes—"

  “Show me,” Antonia said.

  Caleb paled as he looked at me. “You— you want to see it?”

  “Yes,” Antonia said firmly. “I want to see it.”

  “But—"

  Antonia took her phone out. “Fine, I’ll find it myself—"

  She opened her news feed, and it was the first thing that came up. Moving with a calm she did not feel, Antonia opened the link and the video started playing. The boy sitting slightly off-center on the screen was skinny, blond-haired and blue-eyed. He had an almost euphoric expression on his face.

  “… This is it, man,” said the boy. He said his last words with a kind of effervescent pride. “We finally know what’s out there. These sounds right here— it’s telling us something important. There is a hell. And if there is a hell, then there has to be a heaven. Don’t you get it, people? Life is just… it’s a bridge; it’s temporary. I don’t even think this is real. What’s real is what’s waiting for us on the other side. I’m not scared, because I know where I’m going… and I’m ready. I’m so fucking ready man…”

  He stopped talking long enough to turn back and switch on the recordings that James had released to the world. A million screaming voices created the strangest, harshest, most frightening sound Antonia had ever heard. It gave her chills, but apparently, it gave the boy something entirely different. He was smiling from ear to ear.

  “Do you hear that man?” the kid continued, with a strange, almost possessed, look in his eye. “That’s the sound of the afterlife… one part of it at least. There’s so much more, I can feel it. And I want to be there. That’s where I really belong. So I’m doing this now because I don’t want any of you to feel scared. Death is not the end, it’s just the next great adventure…”

  “He’s justifying his suicide by quoting Peter fucking Pan?” Antonia asked, in horror and rage as she closed the page and put her phone down.

  “The video’s got seventeen million views already,” Caleb said softly.

  “How did he do it?” Rebecca asked.

  “His father owned a gun,” Caleb replied.

  “This is insane,” Antonia said, having completely lost her appetite. “Are p
eople really killing themselves now because their faith in the afterlife has been restored? Because of a few hellish screams?”

  “Those were way more than a few,” Caleb pointed out.

  “Not the point,” Antonia snapped.

  “Antonia,” Victoria’s voice was calm as usual. “We need to keep our heads clear.”

  “No, what we need to do is figure out what the hell is going wrong!” Antonia exclaimed. “Maybe Patrick had it right from the beginning—"

  “Patrick?” Victoria asked.

  “He’s a friend. An old friend that I reconnected with recently,” Antonia said.

  “This wouldn’t happen to be Patrick Dane, would it?” Victoria asked.

  Antonia looked at her in shock. “You know him?”

  “Not personally, no,” Victoria said, shaking her head. “But I did read the article he published online. The one about his daughter.”

  “Oh,” Antonia said.

  “Where is he now?” Victoria asked. Antonia sensed a burning interest behind the unassuming question.

  “I don’t know,” Antonia replied, her voice breaking as she spoke. “He— he disappeared on me.”

  Victoria’s eyes bored into hers until Antonia finally had to look away. “It’s been a long day,” Victoria said. “Rebecca, Caleb… why don’t the two of you head back home, get some rest?”

  Antonia heard them grab their things and make their way out of the room. She waited until they had gone before she spoke. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That wasn’t very professional.”

  “Forget formalities,” Victoria said. “We’re all friends here. You can speak freely in front of me Antonia. You know that, don’t you?”

  Antonia took a deep breath. “Victoria, you’re not the only one who saw a psychic. I saw one too. It wasn’t intentional. It happened because of Patrick. We went to see this woman who'd contacted him, and she told us things that sounded like fairytales. It sounded like the ravings of a lunatic.”

  “These stories she told you, did they have anything to do with Tartarus and the Titans?”

  Antonia felt as though someone had just punched her in the gut. “Oh my God… how—"