Apocalypse Cult (Gray Spear Society)

by Alex Siegel

  "Do you think I might be able to talk to Simon?" Marina said. "I really want to meet him."

  Brittany shook her head. "He sees only those who have proven themselves worthy. Others may seek him, but they never find him."

  "That's a shame," Marina pouted.

  "If you study his writings diligently and purge all selfish thinking from your mind, maybe you will some day."

  "Do I have to cut myself, too?"

  Brittany held up her arms. "These scars prove my courage and discipline. The markings on my face are signs of my true devotion."

  "Impressive."

  "When Simon's plan is complete, the Earth itself shall bear such scars." Brittany stood up. "He will mark the entire world as his own so that none can doubt that he is the leader of all mankind! He will create lakes of fire and blood, and those who have not learned to swim shall drown! Waves of terror shall wash across civilization. You have been forewarned. Join him now while you still have time."

  "I'll think about it," Marina replied with a lack of conviction.

  "And I will be his queen!" Brittany announced proudly.

  "But you're just fifteen."

  "He made me his woman several times. Age doesn't matter when there is true love."

  Marina made a sour face. "You actually slept with him?"

  "Our lovemaking was the perfect union of body and soul. He took me to a special place nearer the Heavens."

  "Sounds great. I'm ready to go. Aaron, do you have any questions?"

  Aaron shook his head.

  They left the bedroom, and he closed the padlock. After saying goodbye to Frank and Caroline Waters, Aaron and Marina went outside together. The sun was setting, but the muggy air still felt like a warm towel hitting him in the face.

  They walked on the sidewalk towards his car, a classic Ford mustang with a blue metallic paint job. The car was dented and rusted in spots, and the engine misfired sometimes, but it still ran well enough. One day, when Aaron had more money, he would get it fixed up properly.

  "Poor kid," he said. "She is so messed up she doesn't even realize she was raped."

  Marina stared straight ahead. "I'm sure she was one of many. Guys like Simon usually keep a harem."

  "Should we report him to the cops?"

  "No need. My team will deal with him." She smiled a little, but the expression was more cruel than happy.

  "Oh." Aaron paused. "What did you think about that angel stuff?"

  "Worrisome," she whispered.

  "Why? It was just a story."

  She grabbed his arm. "I have to go back to our headquarters right now. You can come with me if you want. Ethel already gave her permission."

  "Sure," he said. "I want to see the place."

  "Not so quick. You can go back to your apartment instead and return to your normal life. You'll never see us again, and if you tell anybody about us, we'll kill you. But as long as you keep your mouth shut, you'll be safe and free. You can get a real job, marry, have kids, and do all the usual stuff that people do. You'll be ordinary."

  "Or?"

  "Or..." She plucked a dandelion and examined its bright yellow flower. "You can join us forever. No trial period. No quitting. We expect absolute obedience and commitment. Only members are allowed to set foot in headquarters and live."

  "I have to decide right now?" he said. "I thought I had 24 hours."

  "Circumstances have changed."

  "This whole thing is insane."

  "It is what it is." She shrugged.

  "You have to give me more information," he pleaded.

  She furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry. I can't. All I'll tell you is that it's the best job in the universe, and maybe the most dangerous."

  Aaron paced back and forth on the sidewalk. The cynic in him kept insisting he should just walk away and be glad he had escaped with his life intact.

  On the other hand, his current life was no picnic. Unpaid bills and desperate loneliness waited for him back at his apartment, and his long term prospects were not great, either. The Chicago Police Department had stained his record with enough black marks that he could never work in law enforcement again, at least not officially. He wasn't interested in doing much else. He certainly didn't have the temperament or skills for an office job.

  When he looked at Marina's beautiful face, the decision became easier. He wanted to be with her, even if that meant making insane, uninformed, illogical choices.

  "I'm in," he said, "all the way."

  "Congratulations." She shook his hand. "Welcome to the Chicago cell of the Gray Spear Society. Never speak our name to outsiders. Now, let's hurry. You drive, and I'll give directions."

  They climbed into his car, which was parked on the street.

  As he started the engine, he asked, "Where to?"

  "Downtown, intersection of Lower Wacker Drive and Wabash."

  Aaron drove off, excited that he would finally get some answers. Now that he had made his big decision, he felt more relaxed. Adventure lay ahead, and there was no turning back, so he might as well just enjoy the ride. I'm in the Gray Spear Society, whatever that is.

  "Can I ask questions now?"

  "Not quite yet," Marina said. "Ethel likes to do the big introduction speeches, and she'll be mad if I steal her thunder. I'll tell you a few things though. As you already know, Ethel is your commander, and she runs the cell. Her title is decurion. Follow her orders and don't talk back. She hates insubordination. Victor, you, and I are called legionnaires. We do all the field work. We're like the secret agents."

  "Are those words Roman?"

  "Yes. We're an ancient society. Our cell also has some caculas or assistants, who you will meet at headquarters. Technically, they work for you, but I strongly recommend you treat them with respect. Some day you might need them to go the extra mile and a half to save your ass."

  "Got it." He nodded.

  "That's our entire cell. Don't talk about our business with anybody else, under any circumstances, period. Not your mother, your drinking buddy, or your ex-wife. If you break that rule, the consequences will be worse than you can imagine, and not just for you."

  "Are there other cells?"

  "The Gray Spear Society protects the entire planet. There are seven divisions, each commanded by a legatus legionis. We're in the North American division, which encompasses the entire continent. There are twenty-two cells in our division, and each cell is responsible for a specific territory. The Chicago territory goes from the top of Minnesota to the bottom of Illinois, including Wisconsin. We're responsible for roughly ten million people. Our tiny team has to protect them all."

  This is huge. Aaron thought. "Protect them from what?"

  "No more questions!" Marina said. "Ethel will tell you the rest."

  Wacker Drive formed the northern and western boundary of downtown Chicago. A road built on pillars, it offered a dramatic view of the Chicago River on one side, and a line of soaring skyscrapers on the other. Nearly every tourist bus made sure to include a trip down Wacker at some point.

  Lower Wacker was not so fortunate. It ran directly beneath Wacker for most of its length, and the scenery consisted of concrete supports, steel beams, and historic grime. The river was visible on one side, but not enough to relieve the impression of driving through an endless, gloomy tunnel with too many dark shadows. Local traffic used Lower Wacker as a quick shortcut through a crowded city. It provided access to the basements of many buildings, and there were always delivery trucks parked in odd locations.

  Aaron drove down the ramp at Wabash and entered Lower Wacker. The close walls and narrow spaces made him grip the steering wheel tightly. Marina directed him to take an awkward left turn onto a small parking area protected by a chain-link fence. Large signs warned that unauthorized vehicles would be towed immediately. A hand-written note added that they would be dropped into the lake.

  Marina got out of the car and opened a sliding garage door. Aaron drove into a concrete room, which contained nothing but oil s
tains, cobwebs, and dust. She followed him in, closed the door, and checked that it was latched.

  "Now what?" he called out. The small room didn't have another door.

  The floor silently descended into an underground parking area. As his view opened up, he saw twenty vehicles including cars, vans, light trucks, and a motorcycle. A secret garage, he thought.

  He moved his car to an available parking spot. A giant hydraulic cylinder raised the elevator platform until it was flush with the ceiling. He got out of his car and looked around.

  Some of the trucks had the names of local delivery companies painted on the sides, and they were clearly meant for undercover work. In the corner, there were tool boxes and paint cans around a service lift. The air was fresh and cool.

  "Nice." He nodded. "Private parking, and I mean private." He was already feeling a little better about his decision to join, given what he had seen so far. "But what prevents just anybody from coming down?"

  "Our head of security was watching with a hidden camera. He lowered the elevator. This place is an underground fortress, and it's impossible to enter without inside help. We take our security very seriously. Leave your car keys in the ignition in case somebody needs to move your car." There was only one door in the garage, and Marina heaved it open with both hands. "Watertight. We're below the river, so flooding is always a concern."

  They walked down a short corridor, through another door, and entered a small, white room with a small, white couch. Directly ahead was a thick window, obviously bulletproof, and a man was sitting behind it. He was medium height with pale skin and blue eyes. Either he was naturally bald, or he had shaved his head until it shone in the fluorescent lights.

  "Aaron, meet Jack," Marina said. "Head of security and a very talented gunsmith. If you need a weapon, any weapon at all, he's your man. He's also our cashier."

  "Hello, Aaron." Jack's voice came through speakers in the ceiling. "I'm very glad to see you. I've heard all about you. I was hoping you'd join. Go on back. Everybody is waiting in the conference room to greet you."

  Jack pressed a button, and a security door buzzed on the right side of the room. Aaron pulled it open.

  He stepped into a hallway with a white tiled floor. Exposed pipes and conduits ran overhead. Some cracks in the bare concrete ceiling had been patched with tar. The walls were plain and gray.

  They came to another door, a wooden one this time, and Marina ushered him in. The conference room had a single, large oak table and antique chairs upholstered with purple velvet. A bookshelf covered one wall from floor to ceiling, and it was packed with thick books bound in leather. Aaron couldn't read the titles, but they looked old and important.

  Six people sat in the chairs. He recognized Ethel and Victor, but the other four were unfamiliar.

  "Aaron!" Ethel said in a warm and enthusiastic tone. "I'm really excited you decided to join us. Let me introduce you to the rest of the team. First is Yvonne. She keeps this place clean, and she prepares excellent meals. She's also our emergency nurse. Edward is our technology specialist: computers, communications, that sort of thing. Make sure to get a new phone from him before you leave. Kamal is our lab technician and general expert on scientific matters. He does our forensics. Finally, Nancy handles all of the plumbing, electrical, and carpentry work here. She's never met a tool she doesn't like. You already met Jack in the security booth. Now, empty your pockets onto the table. Let's see everything you have."

  Aaron resisted the urge to disobey the strange order. He took out his wallet, cash, and cell phone. After a brief hesitation, he also gave up a knife that was strapped to his ankle.

  Edward grabbed the wallet and cell phone.

  "Hey!" Aaron said.

  "Calm down," Ethel ordered. "Marina, let's hear your report. What did the girl tell you?"

  Marina described the conversation with Brittany Waters. Her professional tone and memory for detail impressed Aaron.

  Ethel nodded. "Thank you. I'd like to speak with Aaron alone now. Everybody else is dismissed."

  The team filed out of the room. Aaron found a chair across the table from her, and while he sat, he took his cash and knife back.

  "You have questions?" Ethel said when they were alone.

  "Only about a million of them," he said.

  She laughed. "We don't have that much time, but I'll try to answer a few. Let's start at the very beginning. God created the universe. He owns the place. Do you accept that?"

  "Sure," he said. Where is she going with this?

  "Creation wasn't a superfluous action. God has a master plan, and he made the universe for specific reasons. Our existence serves a purpose."

  "Which is what?" he said.

  "I have absolutely no idea."

  He raised his eyebrows.

  "I do know there are a lot of rules," she said. "The laws of physics, for example, but it goes beyond that. There are rules governing life and death. Rules about souls. The plan requires that everybody follow the rules. In fact, the rules are so strictly enforced that most people believe it's impossible not to follow them. There is only one game in town, and the only way to leave the table is to die. We call this the natural world. More than 99.9999 percent of the population lives there."

  "But not everybody?"

  She shook her head. "God has enemies that exist outside the universe. The scientific term is 'external entities.' They attack at the periphery and try to disrupt the plan. The purpose of the Gray Spear Society is to protect Earth from those intrusions. We're God's secret police. It's a deadly war that has been fought since mankind first emerged. I won't sugarcoat it. Members of the Society tend to have short, brutal lives. You probably won't live long enough to get old."

  "Why is secrecy so important?" he said.

  "Ordinary people have to believe the world is rational and predictable, when that's just an elaborate illusion. God demands it be this way, or the universe won't serve its purpose. We're not part of that illusion. We're unnatural. We operate in the battleground outside the natural world. The Lord needs us to remain hidden so we don't mess up the plan."

  Her argument made a crazy kind of sense, but he still had a hard time believing it.

  "How did you get all this information?"

  "The Society receives communication as necessary," she said. "My spiritual guidance is an example. God sometimes allows me to know His will."

  "Are you actually claiming God talks to you?"

  "Not in words." Her impossibly dark eyes stared at him.

  "Interesting." She must be nuts. He furrowed his brow. "But wait, God is supposed to be omnipotent. How can He have enemies?"

  She sighed impatiently. "We've spent enough time on metaphysics. What matters to you are the practical aspects of your job. You're a legionnaire. Your task is to identify and eliminate cases of supernatural interference. We fight God's enemies, and that's all. We don't battle ordinary evil. We don't enforce human laws. Our jurisdiction is very specific. Do you understand?"

  "I think so." He nodded.

  "And before we act, we collect evidence. We demand proof. This isn't a witch hunt."

  "What kind of proof?"

  "Let's move to the laboratory where Kamal will explain the science behind our work." She stood up.

  They left the conference room through a different door and entered a larger space. Racks of free weights stood in the corner across from a stair climbing machine. There were also pads on the floor for wrestling or martial arts.

  They went down a short hallway, turned right, and entered a scientific laboratory. Complex equipment crowded together along the walls, and even more covered a big table in the center. There were a dozen computer screens, many of them turned on. Fans inside the machines produced a constant background hiss.

  These guys must have a lot of money if they can afford all this stuff, Aaron thought.

  Kamal was a tall, thin man with dark skin. From his features, Aaron guessed he was from southern India. He wore a button-up pin
stripe shirt and crisply pressed, brown slacks.

  "Kamal," Ethel said, "please explain to Aaron what you do here."

  He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. It's simple, really. Every intrusion into the space-time fabric is a high-energy event. There is a characteristic burst of spontaneous positron emission, which is detectable at less than 100 meters, but absorbed by the atmosphere over longer distances. The positrons create a specific type of defect in exposed crystalline materials. We have adapted X-ray diffraction techniques to detect these defect patterns conclusively."

  Aaron stared at him. "I have no idea what that means."

  "It's like this," Ethel said. "If there is a suspicious incident, we go out and gather physical evidence near where it happened. Kamal analyzes the evidence and tells us whether we need to take action. In the case of the Church of One Soul, the results were positive."

  "I'm still confused," Aaron said. "What qualifies as a suspicious incident?"

  "Remember how Simon claimed he talked to an angel? We believe that was an external entity."

  "The angel was real?"

  "He talked to something that wasn't made by God. It was an abomination. You can call it an angel if you want, or a demon. It doesn't matter. Our job is to stop that thing and destroy all evidence of its activities. We will accomplish that objective by any means necessary. Do you understand?"

  "Maybe," Aaron said.

  "Good enough." Ethel nodded. "Let's meet with Victor and Marina, so we can plan for tomorrow."

  "That's it? That's my entire orientation?"

  "You'll figure out the rest as you go along."

  They left the laboratory and walked through a few more hallways. The décor was the same throughout: white tile floor, concrete roof, and gray walls. Aaron got the sense that headquarters was pretty big, maybe equivalent to an entire floor of a medium size building. He was becoming impressed by the scale of the operation.

  "Does anybody live here?" he asked.

  "I'm the only permanent resident," Ethel said. "Commanders always live in their own headquarters. Everybody else has apartments nearby. We do have two rooms for guests, though."

  They entered a large kitchen with granite counters and an oversized, stainless steel refrigerator. Copper pots hung from the ceiling on racks. For a secret underground lair, the place certainly had all the amenities. Victor and Marina had prepared meat and cheese sandwiches for themselves. They were sitting at an island in the center of the kitchen.