by Jim Mohr
Silence descends on the room as the humans consider the Admiral’s words. I can see a small smile spreading across Sergeant Montclair’s mouth. I enter her mind. She is honest and truthful in her words, but she also has ulterior motives… She likes Cougar. She looks at me as I leave her mind. Her look is as if we are competitors on opposing teams.
The Admiral breaks the silence. “If there is nothing else, myself, Sergeant Slowiski, Sergeant Montclair, and Lieutenant Smith will go see this guy when he wakes up from his haloperidol nap. One other thing, let’s refrain from grouping Psychokinetics together like we are some primates from the twentieth century, OK?”
***
Cougar—Wisconsin Illinois Base
Blurry fog, a haze over my consciousness. Voices far away, speaking in a language I vaguely remember. My powers are blunted, they do not awaken.
I open my eyes. I can move, but my mind is slow in telling my limbs to function. There are people here with me, am I in Prague?
“Where is Gabrielle? Where am I?” I ask. Looks of confusion on the people around me. “Where am I? Where is nurse Andrev?” Again, confused looks. I try to sit up but my arms are heavy.
A young woman approaches me. Her voice is faraway and hollow. She touches me. I feel the warmth come from her, love and care. My power responds, it awakens. My mind speeds up, it is clearing. The fog is lifting.
“Cougar, what did you say? Are you speaking in Russian?”
I blink as I look at her, it is Dena, the friend from my childhood. “Where am I?” I say in English.
The doctor steps closer, slowly guiding Dena to the side. “You are at Wisconsin Illinois base. I am Doctor Ezekiel Ramos. You took a helluva dose of Haldol. It took 20 mg to take you down. Damn son, you’ve got some testiculos.”
I recognize the Admiral, his assistant, and Dena. There is also a beautiful, blonde Sergeant. “You shot me?”
The doctor smiles and nods slightly. “Psychokinetics tend to escalate quickly, you’re quicker than most. Now that you know what haloperidol feels like, maybe you’ll watch yourself a little bit.”
“It feels like a truck ran me over,” I say as I clumsily grab my head. “My power isn’t right, it’s slow to respond.”
“That’s the effect of the drug. It affects humans differently than Psychokinetics. It’s the imperium gland I believe that gets the brunt of it.”
I look at the doctor. I want to read his mind, but the telepathy isn’t there, just flashes and silence.
The Admiral steps forward. “Cougar, this is Sergeant Carrie Montclair from security. May we speak with you?”
“Without you going apeshit,” Sergeant Slowiski adds.
“Yes, Admiral. I will behave.” I fall backward, into the soft bed.
“Good, we have discussed what Lieutenant Smith reported on about your mind. We’ve decided to offer you a rare opportunity. We will assign Sergeant Montclair here to you, she will aid in your re-education here at Wisconsin Illinois base. You will have limited freedoms until we conclude your security clearance. You act decent to us and we’ll help you with what you need. If you cause us to question you, we will line you up in front of a row of rifles and we will end your life. This offer is only because you are American by birth and were captured by them, that’s all. Is that fair?”
I nod. “Yes, sir. What about the air attack?”
“They’ve been dealt with. Wreckage from Resistance jets are scattered from Rhinelander to Lake Superior. Thank you, Cougar. Thank you for that.”
I smile weakly. “You are welcome, Admiral. I am not the enemy,” I say as my heavy eyelids close.
I hear him say “I know” before I slip off into sleep.
Chapter 25
Dove—San Francisco
I knew immediately it was another dream. I knew because of the white bird. It was in every one of the previous dreams. Now, the dream begins and I am in church with my parents. The sunlight is shining through the stained-glass windows giving the sanctuary a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors.
Our priest stands at the pulpit. He is reading Revelations 5:5 “then one of the elders said to me ‘do not weep! See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has triumphed. He is able to open the scroll and its seven seals.’”
He finishes the reading and looks at me. “Mary Degrass, Dove, I am addicted to pornography and I cannot help myself.” The congregation turns to me. My eyes are wide with shock.
Mister Rubin turns from the pew in front of my family. “Dove, I’m cheating on my wife with Mrs. Evans.” His wife turns next, “I know he’s cheating, and I am slowly poisoning him to death.”
“What!?” I yell. “Stop telling me these things.”
A college man in our congregation comes up from behind me. “I raped my girlfriend in high school. I knew I was HIV-positive. But I didn’t care.”
Miss Reynolds leans over to my parents. “I murdered my first child. The police didn’t catch me.”
“Stop it! All of you, stop it!” I see the dove sitting on the sill of one of the side windows.
Another parishioner, an older man, yells from the back. “I sexually abused my daughter.” Another person yells, “I abused my son and he killed himself.” And yet another, “I refused to see my dying mother.”
I scream as the voices continue. “Stop it!” My parents look at me.
My mother leans toward me. “I wanted a son. I gave birth to you, but there were complications. I cannot have any more children. I’ll never have a son, because of you. I can never forgive you for that.”
“MOM!” I cry. “Why would you say that?” I heave as my emotional strength fails. I sob but the voices continue. They confess everything. I cover my ears. Then, there is silence… I look up. The dove is standing on the pew in front of me. The church is empty. I hear a man’s voice. “You are Dove. You are a predator, you will never be prey. You have the power of empathy.”
***
My scream wakes me. My bed is wet, I am wet. Sweat covers my forehead, my sleeping shorts. I am crying, I hurt. The pain is emotional, not physical. It cuts deeper than a physical wound. It hurts worse than a burn.
My door opens. Light from the hallway floods into my bedroom. It is my mother. “Mary, what is it?”
“Oh, mom, a nightmare,” I sob.
She runs and hugs me. Her strength is reassuring as I cry into her shoulder. “It’s okay honey, you are safe.” She strokes my hair as she holds me. “What was the dream?”
“Mom, we were in church. People were confessing things to me. You confessed that you wanted a son and you blame me that you can no longer have children.”
The world spins as I am hurled backward. My thighs strain with the pain of the position I am in.
“What?! What did you say?” My mom gasps as she stands.
My dad steps into my room from the hall. “Is everything all right?”
“Tom, turn on the light!” My mother yells. The light illuminates my bedroom as my mom unleashes a bloodcurdling scream.
Brightness floods my vision. My dad falls backward into the wall of the hallway. I blink as I look at them. My pupils dilate and I can see them both. My parents are covering their mouths. My mom is crying, my dad is wide-eyed in terror. I look at my mom, I know my dream was true. I wipe my face. “Mom?” I ask.
“Get out! Get out of our house you monster!” she yells at me. Her eyes burn with anger and hatred.
“What?!” I cry again.
“You are the devil! Get out of our house!” She lunges forward. My face burns with the force of the slap on my cheek.
“Mom! Why did you hit me?” I hold my stinging face.
“I said, get OUT!” she strikes me again.
I feel a power inside myself growing. She begins frantically striking me. I cover my face. She strikes my chest, my legs. The power grows inside of m
e. I am a predator, I will never be prey.
There is a tap at my window as my mom pulls back from me. She is hyperventilating. My body burns with the stings of her blows. The tapping grows louder.
I look at my window, it lifts ever so slightly. Did I lift it with my mind? White feathers burst through the small opening. The bird lands in front of me, between mother and I. It seems to protect me.
My dad steps forward, re-entering my room. “Molly, go downstairs. I will help Mary pack.” My mom runs from the room as the dove hops up and lands on my shoulder.
“Dad? What is happening?” My voice is weak and frail, I do not even consider the bird’s presence, as if it is meant to be on my shoulder.
He grabs my makeup mirror from my dresser and carefully approaches, he fears the bird. As he hands the mirror to me, the dove pecks at him; it is a warning. I grab the mirror… My eyes, my green eyes, my black hair… Oh God, what am I? My green eyes are now a bright, sapphire blue. My black hair is as white as snow. I am Dove.
***
I can hear my dad crying on the other side of the bathroom door. He mumbles something that I cannot quite make out.
I look at my half-naked body in the mirror. Red welts cover my face, neck, chest, and legs. I would be appalled at them if not for the fact that the pudgy baby fat I had been carrying through my junior year in high school has somehow disappeared. The bathroom scale confirms what my eyes see. I have lost twenty pounds overnight.
“Dad, I’m almost done,” I yell at him. I can hear him sniffling.
“Okay, honey. Hurry up though, you have to go.”
I pull my white jeans over my welted legs. The thin, white sweater slides smoothly over my torso. My eyes are something that I cannot hide. I blink as I look into my own eyes in the mirror. They are the richest blue I have ever seen. Like two sapphires staring back at me, my eyes have power. I have given up on trying to color my hair, it won’t stay. I completed the process but still, my hair is as white as newly fallen snow.
I open the bathroom door and step into my room as my dad hurriedly wipes his eyes, he sits on my bed. He is trying to hide his sorrow from me. I sit next to him and softly grab his hand. I look at him, he turns his face from me, he will not look at me.
“Dad, look at me,” I plead. He turns to face me. My visage startles him. I can sense a pain in him. I open myself to heal his pain. My dad is ashamed that he cowers to my mom. He loves me but he cannot go against his wife. I see the hurt it is causing him, the torture it will cause in his life. As if I were pulling a rogue eyebrow hair, I remove the pain from him.
His eyes change from fearing me, to loving me. “Mary, did you do that? Did you just do that to me?”
I blink as I nod. “Dad, I am Dove, I have the power of empathy.”
He hugs me with such force, such love, that I smile. My tears drop harmlessly onto his shoulder. He holds me close and whispers. “I love you, Mary. I love you, Dove.”
“I love you too, dad. I’m not evil, you know that, right?”
“Yes, honey. I know,” he says as he releases me. “Blessed are the peacemakers.”
I continue his sentence, “For they will be called children of God.”
He nods and lowers his eyes. “Honey, I put some money in your duffel bag. Take it. Find others like yourself.” He hands me a letter. The paper is worn and is yellow with age. “Here, this is for you. A woman prophesied about you. Your mom has prayed that it wouldn’t come true, but it has.”
I take the note and slide it into my pants pocket as I stand. “I love you, dad, I will miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, my little Mary, Mary white as snow,” he replies. When I was a little girl that was my favorite nursery rhyme. The lamb was white though, not Mary. The lamb? Jesus was called the Lamb of God. He is also called the Lion of Judah, like from my dream.
I must find others like myself; whatever I am. I will try to help people along the way. God help me.
Chapter 26
Cougar—Wisconsin Illinois Base
“Why don’t you get your ass up,” Sergeant Slowiski says loudly as he kicks my hospital bed.
My eyes spring open, my power has returned. I sit up and I look at the Admiral’s assistant hovering over my bed.
“You’re the Admiral’s aide, why are you fucking with me? Don’t you have anything else to do?”
The gruff Sergeant smiles as he kicks the bed once more for good measure. “I assist the Admiral, I don’t wipe his ass for him,” Slowiski says as I swing my legs around and stretch, Sergeant Slowiski sits in a chair near me. “I wanted to have a little talk with you, to set the record straight in a manner of speaking.”
“About what? Are you afraid of me?”
“Me? Afraid of you?” He chuckles. “It takes more than a hard head, or throwing a toilet across the room, to scare me, kid.”
I stand and dress in the civilian clothes lying on the bedside table, I frown at him calling me a kid. “If I am a civilian, call me young man or man. If I am a recruit, call me a recruit. If I am still considered a Resistance soldier, I’m a Sergeant.”
Sergeant Slowiski nods. “Recruit it is.” He stands next to me so we are nearly eye to eye. He is slightly shorter than my 6’2” height and he’s nowhere near close to my physique. “Recruit, I want you to understand the situation. You saved the Admiral and this base. That doesn’t give you a free pass to act like a Resistance puke to our staff. You behave yourself, or I’ll do more than crack you on the back of that rock head of yours.”
I can tell that Sergeant Slowiski is a good soldier—loyal, fearless, and devoted. “Judging by your midsection Sergeant, you could use some exercise. Why don’t you join me sometime?” I pat the man slightly on his belly with the back of my hand.
His smile grows. “I like you, Reed. Be nice to Sergeant Montclair, but not too nice.” He says as he turns to leave. He opens the door and turns one last time toward me. His look is serious. “One last thing, you mentioned a guy named Taipan when Lieutenant Smith was interrogating you.”
“Yes, so what?”
“We know who he is. He is a Colonel General based in Moscow base. He’s head of a group calling themselves Envenom. His past is still being researched, but it looks like he and his group of Timere, or whatever they are called, destroyed a genetic lab in Moscow some years back. His real name is Reginald Jones.”
“The Centre of Genetic Research,” I answer.
“That’s the one.” He looks off to the side as if gazing at the horizon. “Colonel General Jones looks to be a bad mother fucker. He’s got someone terrified in Moscow because they enlisted him and promoted him immediately to Colonel General.”
I stare at the Sergeant as he looks back at me. “Your point?” I ask.
“My point, recruit, is that you need help getting to him. It’s just damn coincidental that the Admiral may have a way for you to do it. But you didn’t hear it from me, right?”
“Right. What is it that I didn’t hear?” I answer.
“Go to your classes, behave yourself, and don’t piss in the well. The Admiral has taken to you a bit, don’t make him regret his decision. He is an honorable man who also likes to keep his options open. Understand something, the Admiral threatened you with a firing squad. I’m here to tell you that you’ll never see a line of rifles.” He makes a gun out of his index finger and thumb. “Because I’ll kill you before they ever get a chance.” He turns and leaves my hospital room.
***
Dove—San Francisco
I sense the boy before he even turns to look at me. He is homeless, or at least appears homeless. When our eyes meet, I know that he is a friend. I approach the boy. He looks to be no more than nine years old. “Hello, little boy,” I say as I stand in front of him.
“Hello,” he replies meekly as he looks at me, eyeing up my all white clothing. “Who are you?”
he asks.
I blink as I answer, “I am Dove, who are you?”
A look of astonishment spreads across his face. “Dove! Wow, it is you!” He gently grabs my hand. “I am Pigeon. We are all being summoned to Atlanta. Lion has need of us.”
“Lion? There is someone like us named Lion?”
“Yes, Dove. He’s our king. He needs us Pigeons to carry messages for him. We summon people when he needs them.”
The boy suddenly hugs me. I gently pat his back as I remember the Scripture from my dream. Lion… That is who I need to see. I touch the note in my pocket as I gently push him back from hugging me, I kneel to the boy. “I will go with you. We’ll both go to Atlanta.” He smiles as we walk hand-in-hand to the transport station.
***
I have never ridden on the public mass transport to other cities. I have never needed to. For a low cost, a person can travel to any city in the United States if you have the time. The wealthy people in the world either own their own cars, fly on private jets, or take the high-speed rail. We ride the transport.
Like every major city, San Francisco has degraded into a cesspool of crime. Law enforcement can only manage so much with their limited resources, but my poor San Francisco suffers so. The worst part of the city is the radius around the transport station. For whatever reason, the evil men and women of the city have congregated in this circle of gloom. During the daylight hours, it isn’t too bad, at nighttime however it is a death trap. The area around the transport station isn’t nearly as bad as Chicago is, but there isn’t anything short of the war that is as bad as Chicago.
My dad told me how to travel through the crime area if I ever needed to. Don’t look at people, walk fast, don’t talk to people, don’t stop, and always be sure to be out of the crime zone before sunset. Nighttime is when it is really bad.
As we arrive at the edge of the zone, large red signs greet us. “THIS ZONE IS NOT PATROLLED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT.” Pigeon squeezes my hand, he is afraid.
“Come on, we can do this. We walk fast, and we don’t talk to anyone,” I say, trying to calm his nerves.