Becca's mouth dropped. "What? ME??"
"It's you." Simon tried to hold the image in his mind, but it slipped away. The future always slipped away. "It was you, the guards brought you into the cell, they opened the door for you."
Becca snorted. "You have officially lost your fucking mind!"
Simon bared his teeth in a snarl. "I know what I saw!"
Brandon stood between them. "Okay, we'll figure this out later. What does this have to do with the red woman?"
Simon shook his head. "Nothing. I didn't see her."
"Try focusing on her. See if that helps." Brandon put a hand on his shoulder. "You can do it."
Simon closed his eyes and concentrated. The red woman.
Red hair streaming behind her. Glowing red eyes.
"I see her!"
Red dress floating around her. Ruby red lips. Energy surrounding her, glowing like starlight.
"She's not human. She's...something else."
"Something not of this world," Brandon said.
Simon nodded.
"What else do you see?"
There were others, glowing in the vastness of space.
"She's not the only one. She's the leader, but there are others."
They appeared, shining like stars at night. First dozens, then hundreds, then...
"So many I can't count them all..."
One kneeled at her feet.
"Wait, there's someone there, kneeling in front of her."
This one did not glow like the others. This one, the one who kneeled before her, was human. She laid a hand on his blond hair, smiling fondly.
Simon opened his eyes. "Him."
The others followed his outstretched hand and finger, pointing directly at...
"Zachary?" Becca's face wore a distinct look of disbelief.
"He knows something."
Zachary remained on the floor, rocking back and forth, his lips soundless mouthing the same words over and over.
"I don't know, man," Brandon said. "Zachary has seriously left the building. Even if he does know something, I doubt he can tell us what it is."
Simon leapt across the room, picking Zachary up off the floor and holding him against the wall. He leaned his leathery black face in until it was almost touching Zachary, the gusts of breath through the hole of his nose ruffling Zachary's blond hair.
"Who is she?" Simon tightened his grip on Zachary's arms.
"Leave him alone," Becca said. "That's not going to help anything."
With a glance back, Simon reached out invisible hands to wrap around Becca. One gripped her legs, a second her chest, and finally one clamped itself firmly over her mouth.
"I've had enough of you," Simon growled. "No more mind tricks. I saw you in that dungeon. You try to control me, and I crush you." He turned back to Zachary. "Who is she?"
Zachary stopped mouthing the words. His eyes slowly moved to meet Simon's, but he continued to tremble in silence.
Simon pulled him away from the wall and slammed him into it, hard. "WHO IS SHE?"
"She's..." Zachary's voice hitched.
"WHO?"
"SHE'S THE DEVIL!" Zachary shouted, cowering in Simon's grasp.
Mia gasped. Becca pursed her lips. Brandon shook his head. Tyler leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling, or possibly into and past it.
Simon released him, and Zachary sank to the floor, his eyes wide.
"She's the Devil..."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vernon Wells glanced up from his Bible when the doorbell rang. He wasn't expecting anyone. Carefully tucking the red ribbon into the text to mark where he had paused, his finger lingered over the words "let them be caught in their pride" before he closed the book.
He stood and placed the careworn Bible carefully on the table next to his chair. His home was small and spartan. There were only a few chairs and one table; he owned no television, no radio, nothing that might distract him from the Word.
Vernon opened the door to find no one there. He peered around, then down, and saw that a basket had been left for him. He looked back up, gazing down the street but not seeing anyone who might have left the basket.
A cry emerged from the blankets within the basket beneath him.
Vernon knelt, carefully lifting the blanket to reveal the crying baby within, a beautiful boy with blue eyes and a tuft of blond hair growing from the top of his head. An envelope had been pinned to his blanket, and on the top of the envelope were written these words:
MY NAME IS ZACHARY
"Well, hello there, Zachary." Vernon opened the envelope and found a note within.
The note read:
VERNON,
HE IS YOUR CHILD. PLEASE CARE FOR HIM.
-G
Vernon reached into the basket and lifted Zachary into his arms, standing.
"Aww, don't cry, Zachary," he cooed to the boy, cupping the tiny head with his left hand. "Don't cry. You're my boy, aren't you?" He kissed Zachary on the head, and Zachary's cries stopped, replaced by a serene look in his blue eyes.
"That's right. You're my special boy."
______________________
The heavy metal door to the incinerator banged open, and Zachary rolled out. He coughed, the ashes of his clothes falling away from him. He was naked, alone, and very afraid.
"Where am I?" he asked. Once again, he had no memory since the crash, since his talk with God. "God, please help me. Please."
He fumbled along the wall until he found a light switch. He was in a small room, with a door on one wall. Passing through that door, he found himself in a cavernous warehouse, lit by fluorescent bulbs from high above. At one end of the warehouse were three school buses. One of them was the one Zachary had been on when it crashed. It still bore the damage from the collision with the bridge railing, as well as from the river itself. The other two? Zachary wasn't sure, but they all were emblazoned with the same number: 313.
In front of the second and third bus were lines of tables. Cadavers lay on each table, covered with sheets.
Zachary walked to the first table and lifted. The body was that of a very large man.
"Be brave," Zachary said. "I have to be brave."
He pulled the sheet away, throwing it aside, and laid his hands on the body. A warm glow passed through his hands and into the man.
The sheet yanked the toe tag attached to the corpse free. It fluttered to the ground. There was a name written on it, in blockish letters: KENNEY, BROCK.
The enormous body twitched.
ZACHARY
"Look at the prideful man and see him humbled."
"Let Becca go. Now." Tyler stepped toward Simon, a menacing look in his eye.
Heather moved between them. With a touch of the table leg, her body shifted to metal instantly. "Or what?"
"Guys," Brandon said. "Stop this!"
Tyler turned his gaze on Heather. A wrinkle formed in his brow as he concentrated on her. Heather's body shifted, and her natural human form returned, starting in the center and spreading outward.
Heather stumbled backward. "How the hell did you do that?"
Simon leaped at Tyler, but Max appeared before him, barking loudly. Simon stopped, unfamiliar with Max's abilities or what the dog might do.
"STOP IT!" Mia cried. She brought up a fist, glowing with yellow energy, and started to bring it down against the table, but paused. She wavered unsteadily on her feet, and sagged backward against the wall.
No one noticed General Stearnes slipping toward the door.
"Mia, what's wrong?" Brandon moved to help her but she swatted his hands away.
"Leave me alone! I'm fine!"
"You're not fine." He turned to Zachary. "You have to help her."
"I can't," Zachary said.
Stearnes whipped open the door. "INTRUDERS!" he shouted. "SECURITY!"
"Damn it!" Simon turned in the direction of the General. Invisible hands pulled the General away from the door and slammed it.
"Just le
t Becca go!" Tyler said.
Becca, who had been suspended just above the floor, wrapped up by the invisible hands, suddenly dropped to her feet. She sucked in air. Tyler reached out to keep her from falling to the floor.
"I'm fine," she said. "It's okay, I got this."
"Got what?" Tyler asked.
The general walked serenely back to the corner where he and General Higgins had been cowering and sat on the floor.
"Him. Them. All of them. They won't remember anything."
"The whole base?" Tyler raised an eyebrow. "At once? You can do that?"
YYES I CANN
"I'm not done with you," Simon said. "I saw you in that dungeon."
Becca turned her green eyes on him. YYOU ARE DONE. FUCKING DROP ITT
"Hey!" Brandon was trying to hold Mia up but she was sinking to the floor. "All of you knock it off! Something's wrong with Mia!" The circuitry had spread. It covered nearly her entire face.
"Do something!" Tyler said to Zachary.
"I can't," Zachary said, shaking his head. "God...God has abandoned me..."
______________________
Zachary wasn't sure what to think when the wind began to hammer at him. It was howling around the rooftop, and an angry black cloud dominated the sky above.
The others were there too, and there were sparks jumping between them, like the ends of jumper cables when you touched them together.
A spark leapt to Zachary, hitting him square in the chest.
Lines of energy arced between them now, and then arced into the air above the rooftop. And where they came together, the sky darkened. A shimmering hole began to form in the air. A sound rose, like the sound of cracks opening in ice, only a million times louder.
"Be brave," Zachary told himself.
______________________
"Zachary, your father's here for you."
Zachary turned to see his father standing just inside the classroom door. He picked up his papers from the small table, and stood. The teacher, Miss Shannon, smiled down on him as he walked past her to stand with his father.
"Hello, boy." Vernon Wells said, placing a hand on his head. "What do you have there?"
"Would you like to show your father what you made today?" Miss Shannon asked.
Zachary nodded. He handed the pages up to Vernon. Vernon studied them, leafing between them and taking time to ponder each one.
"They're really very good for his age," Miss Shannon said. "Zachary's obviously got quite a creative talent."
"My boy is very special," said Vernon softly. The drawing he was studying was of a cross, hovering in the sky and shining down on figures that looked very much like Vernon and Zachary themselves. "Very special."
"He still hasn't...." Her voice trailed away but Vernon knew what she was asking, what everyone always asked.
Vernon handed the pictures back to Zachary and faced her. She was small, even by his standards, and Vernon was not a large man. Her brown hair was pulled back in a clip and she was dressed modestly, in a sweater and slacks. Vernon approved.
"No," he said. "He hasn't spoken...yet."
"I can recommend the name of a specialist in autism. You should take Zachary to see her. She's very good. It's just...we aren't really equipped here to deal with students who have...special needs."
Vernon raised a hand, cutting her off. "Zachary, you know what you need to do with those, don't you boy?"
Zachary looked down at his feet.
Vernon handed the drawings back to him. "You be good, now."
Zachary walked back to the table and sat. He lay the drawings down on the table, lifting the first one. It took most of his child's strength, but he gradually tore the drawing in half, top to bottom, laying the two halves aside. He then moved to the next page.
"Mr. Wells, what are you doing? Zachary should keep those, they're very good!"
Vernon gave her a stern look. "Ma'am, I'm sure you mean well, but I'll ask you to please mind your own business."
"But why? Why would you make him do that?"
Vernon stood patiently and waited while Zachary tore apart each drawing, one after another. Then, when Zachary was finished and rose to return to his side, Vernon picked him up and held him, kissing him on the head.
"That's my boy. My special boy. Who do we reserve all praise for?"
Zachary pointed a tiny finger upward.
"Good boy. That's right." He turned again to Miss Shannon. "I'm afraid we don't have the money for a fancy specialist, ma'am. We do the best we can, just the two of us. It's not easy sometimes, but God is with us, always. Always."
He turned to leave.
"Mr. Wells." She stepped forward, putting a hand on his arm. "Why did you make him destroy those drawings? Aren't you proud of him at all?"
Vernon squeezed Zachary close. "I love my boy, every part of him. But most of all I love his immortal soul, and the Word is very clear: pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. God bless you, ma'am."
______________________
"What happened?" Brock Kenney asked. "Where am I?"
Zachary shrugged. "I don't know. You were dead. I asked God to bring you back."
"Dead? What are you....what do you mean, DEAD?"
"You were dead," Zachary repeated. He turned to the next body, an extremely muscular young man whose toe tag read MALONE, THOMAS.
Zachary placed his hands on Tommy's chest. The soft, warm light blossomed in his chest and passed down his arms into Tommy.
Brock slid his legs from the table and sat up. He lifted his hands to his head. "I don't feel right. Something's wrong."
Zachary turned to look back. "I don't think anything's wrong with you."
"Whoa!" Tommy sat up on the table, looking at them. "What the hell's goin' on here?"
"You were dead," Zachary answered. "I asked God to bring you back."
"I'm tellin you..." Brock shook his head violently. "Something...something ain't....initiatingselfdiagnostic...something ain't right."
Zachary had again moved to the next body in the row. This was a skinnier kid, face covered in pimples. His toe tag bore the name SYKES, RUSSELL.
"I feel fuckin' AWESOME," Tommy said, leaping from the table. "Hey, what happened to Russell?" He stood next to Zachary, looking down at his friend.
Zachary shook his head. "I don't know." He placed his hands on Russell's chest.
"Yeah, man, help him! Do whatever you did to me!"
"I can't do anything. I can only ask God to do it." The glow passed from him into Russell.
Metal sprouted from the center of Brock Kenney's chest and spread over his skin, forming metal rings around his arms and legs, protrusions from his shoulders, and a dome over his skull. His eyes sank into his skull, to be replaced with tiny glowing satellite dishes.
"Holy shit!" Tommy exclaimed. "What the hell's happening to him?"
A strange version of his voice emanated from a speaker somewhere in the back of Brock's throat: "selfdiagnosticcomplete. I'm OKAY, I think. systemsonlinefunctionnominal."
"Okay, nothing! Brock, you're all...you're all metal, dude!"
Russell groaned and Tommy turned back to him, helping off the table.
"Where am I?" Russell asked.
"You were dead." Zachary had moved to the next body, a small, slender girl. "I asked God to bring you back."
Tommy jabbed a finger at him. "Hey man, stop saying that! Ain't no God did that to Brock, you did it! I saw that glow in your hands."
"I see it too," Zachary said. "I think it's God's love."
Tommy snorted. "Dude, you're -" He gave the table a shove, meaning to push it out of the way. The table sailed into the air, smashing against the hangar wall with a clang. "Whoa." Tommy looked down at his arms. "This is un-fucking-real."
Zachary placed his hands on the girl, and the glow passed into her.
"threatdetected. HEY, you get AWAY from her. weaponsactivated."
The girl slid from the table, her hands covering
her face. "It hurts," she said. "Everything hurts."
Zachary turned. "I'm not hurting her. I'm asking God to bring her back. God sent me to stop the end times."
Tommy shoved him back. "Nuh-uh, dude, I don't think so."
Zachary looked him in the eye. "It's real important. I have to stop the bad people."
Tommy grinned. "Well you just met the baddest of 'em all, dude. What are you gonna do about it?"
Russell moved behind Zachary, giggling. "Yeah, what are you gonna do?"
"I'll have to stop you, then," Zachary said. "God gave me a message for the bad people."
Tommy drew back one fist and brought it forward into Zachary's face. All of them could hear the audible crunch of shattering bone. Zachary fell backward. Russell caught him in his arms and threw him to the ground.
"Nice one, Tommy!"
The door to the hangar banged open. Two soldiers charged in, weapons drawn. "Down on the ground, now!" one shouted.
"Oh shit!" Russell raised his hands.
Brock turned to face the men. "threatdetected. Oooo, SCARY. targetacquired" He raised one hand, and tendrils fired from his fingertips to embed themselves in the lead soldier's face.
The second soldier opened fire. Bullets riddled Brock, some tearing through him and some ricocheting off the metal parts of his body. Russell dove to the floor under one of the nearby tables. Tommy didn't move.
Circuitry spread across the first solder's face, covering every exposed inch of his skin within seconds. He turned toward the second soldier.
"Alan?" the second solder asked.
The cyber-zombie lifted his weapon and shot the soldier in the head.
"Holy shit," breathed Tommy.
"It hurrrrrts." They turned to see the girl had wandered closer to the door, her skin turning a ghastly white.
"facialrecognitioninitiated. AMBER, I know you. Homegirl gots ISSUES." Brock turned toward Tommy. "facialrecognitioninitiated. TOMMY. And RUSSELL. threatlevelunknown."
"Whoa, brother," Tommy raised his hands. "We're teammates, remember?"
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