It was my job.
“Denduron,” I growled.
And so we go.
END OF JOURNAL #34
SECOND EARTH
Mark woke up first. It was dark. His head hurt. The faint smell of lemons still tickled his nose. He was sitting in a padded chair that was shaking. How could a chair shake? He thought of those rides he used to go on outside the grocery store when he was a toddler. There were always fire engines or spaceships that you dropped a quarter into, and it shook for a minute. Back then it was thrilling. Now it was making him nauseous. Why was he on a kiddie ride?
As his head cleared, he realized it was a much simpler explanation. He was sitting in a moving car. A real one. Courtney sat next to him, still unconscious. He took a deep breath and tried to focus. It wasn’t just a car. It was a limousine. A big one. He had plenty of room to stretch his legs, and he still couldn’t touch the seat in front. How did they get there?
Oh. Right. The guys at Courtney’s house. The lemons.
Mark leaned over to Courtney and brushed her long brown hair away from her face.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You with me?”
Courtney stirred and grumbled.
“I don’t want to go to school today, Mom. I’m sick,” she whispered.
“You’re dreaming,” Mark said kindly.
“It was a joke, dork,” Courtney quipped. She cracked open her eyes and took in the surroundings. “Nice ride” was her groggy comment.
“Any guesses as to what’s going on?” Mark asked.
Courtney sat up and rubbed her face. She looked outside to see they were speeding along the highway. She leaned over and tried the door. It was locked.
“Well,” she began. “The guys who grabbed us weren’t the police, so that means we’ve been kidnapped. We’re not tied up, so that means we don’t scare them. And whoever they are, they’re not lowlifes, because we’re riding in a limousine. On top of all that, my head hurts and I’m still wearing your mother’s goofy freakin’ clothes.”
Mark stared at her. “Yeah, I guess that about sums it up.”
Courtney leaned forward and banged on the smoked glass that separated the rear seat from the front. “Hey!” she called out. “Where are we going?”
No answer. Courtney banged again. “Open up! At least talk to us.”
Nobody did. Courtney sat back in her seat and huffed. “That’s all I had. Your turn.”
“The guys who grabbed us had that star tattoo,” Mark said thoughtfully.
“So we’ve been kidnapped by people from the star cult,” Courtney concluded. “Why should they care about us?”
“I don’t know,” Mark answered. “It’s obvious that Saint Dane has to be involved. Maybe he’s afraid we’ll mess something up for him. It’s happened.”
Courtney chuckled. “Yeah, it’s happened.”
The two gazed out at the buildings flashing by.
“My parents are part of this,” Courtney said softly. “They had the star over the fireplace. They can’t be bad guys. My parents can’t be bad guys.”
“I don’t think they are. Or maybe they don’t realize they are.”
“What does that mean?” Courtney demanded.
“Saint Dane influences people. They think they’re making smart choices when he’s actually pushing them toward disaster. What if the star cult or Ravinia or whatever it’s called is something Saint Dane has been pushing people toward?”
“So then what’s the turning point of Second Earth? The Convergence?”
“No,” Mark said quickly. “The Convergence is bigger than that. At least I think it is. There has to be something happening on Second Earth that would naturally happen, and Saint Dane is trying to influence it. Maybe he’s doing it through this cult.”
Courtney thought about that. “This cult didn’t exist on the old Second Earth. Something changed in the past that allowed it to be created.”
“That’s the mystery,” Mark said.
“That and about a million other things,” Courtney added. She glanced out the window again and announced, “We’re in the city.”
The car sped off the highway onto a wide street in New York City. It moved quickly through traffic, headed across town. They soon reached an intersection that was loaded with people. More than normal.
“What’s all that about?” Courtney asked.
Mark joined her at the window to look out onto a crowd that was gathered along the sidewalk. Traffic was so heavy, the limo had to slow to a crawl. It gave them a chance to get a closer look at what was happening.
“Looks like a protest,” Mark guessed.
“Looks more like an angry mob,” Courtney corrected.
It was a raucous crowd, carrying signs that read, WE’RE ALL CREATED EQUAL, TRUTH WILL PREVAIL, and WE THE PEOPLE. They were waving their fists in the air and chanting a phrase over and over again.
Mark said, “Sounds like they’re saying ‘Stop them here.’”
Courtney listened and replied, “I hope they’re not talking about us. Those people look pissed.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mark said, pointing.
He was looking at several people who were carrying signs with the green star symbol. Each star was surrounded by a red circle with a line slashed diagonally through the center. It was the classic symbol that meant no.
“I guess not everybody is part of the star cult,” Mark observed. “Look at that guy.”
He pointed to a man who stood on a ladder so he could be seen by the crowd. He was a dark-skinned guy, possibly of Asian Indian background. He wore a dark suit with a blue bow tie, looking very official next to the people who swirled around him. He held up a bullhorn through which he chanted, “Stop them here! Stop them here!” while punching his fist angrily toward the sky. The crowd responded, waving their signs and punching right along with him.
“He looks more pissed than anybody,” Courtney commented. “He’s got them pretty worked up.”
The limo slowed and was instantly rushed by a group of people that started to rock it.
“Whoa!” Courtney yelled. “You sure they’re not after us?”
“Maybe they think we’re part of it.”
“Great,” Courtney said sarcastically. “We’re being attacked for something we don’t know anything about.”
The limo lurched forward. There were a few thumps, making the car jolt.
“Did we just hit somebody?” Mark asked, aghast.
They looked out the back window to see three people lying on the road, hurt.
“Are you crazy!” Courtney yelled at the driver while slamming on the glass.
“No wonder they don’t like us,” Mark said soberly.
The car took an abrupt right turn, throwing Mark and Courtney into each other. It quickly descended into an underground garage. The two looked out the back window again to see a group of security people quickly closing a metal fence behind them. Protesters rushed the fence and pounded on it, still chanting, “Stop them here! Stop them here!”
“What the hell?” was all Courtney could say.
The limo sped through the underground parking structure, taking a few quick turns with its wheels squealing on the cement. It suddenly screeched to a stop next to a group of people who seemed to be waiting for them.
“Uh-oh,” Mark uttered.
There were five people. Four of them wore the same dark red clothes and short-brimmed caps that were worn by the men who attacked them at Courtney’s house. They stood there expressionless. The fifth person looked nothing like the others. He was a man who looked to be in his thirties. He was exceptionally clean cut, with short blond hair and a big, inviting smile. He wore a short-sleeved dark red polo shirt and black pants. In one hand was a clipboard, which made him look official. With his other hand, he waved warmly to Mark and Courtney, who peered out from the backseat.
“Who’s the dork?” Courtney asked. “Looks like he’s getting ready to play golf.”
�
��At least he’s smiling.”
The car doors automatically unlocked with a loud click. The smiley guy leaned down and opened the rear door, making a big, sweeping gesture of welcome.
“Hello! You are right on time!” the man said with enthusiasm. “Mark and Courtney, right?”
Mark and Courtney looked at each other in surprise. They didn’t move. Or speak.
“Welcome!” the man added.
“Welcome?” Mark echoed. “You kidnapped us.”
“Oh, that,” the man said, scoffing. “We were afraid you wouldn’t make it in time. That’s all. But you have! Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Courtney erupted. “You broke into my family’s house and gassed us. You call that an inconvenience?”
The young man looked at Courtney, still holding the smile. “Yes.”
“Oh. Just checking.” Courtney banged on the glass separator again and shouted to the driver, “Keep moving!”
The young man reached out his hand in a welcoming gesture.
“Please,” he said warmly. “Join me.”
The two didn’t have a choice. In spite of the friendly welcome, the sober-looking guys who stared them down made that pretty clear. Mark got out. Courtney followed.
“That’s better!” the man with the big smile exclaimed. He held out his hand to shake. “My name is Eugene. I’ll be your escort.”
Mark didn’t take it. Neither did Courtney. Eugene took his hand back, but didn’t drop his smile. He didn’t seem bothered by the snub. “All right then. Let’s not dawdle. Wouldn’t want to miss anything.”
He hurried off past the other four men. Mark and Courtney didn’t move. Eugene turned back and gave them a big, overstated frown. “Are we still upset?”
Courtney answered sarcastically. “You’re kidding, right?”
Eugene opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Let me make it up to you. Come! I promise you’re going to see something spectacular.”
“What if we don’t want to go with you?” Courtney asked.
“Then you’ll be missing out on what could be the most important moment of your lives” was Eugene’s answer. “And these gentlemen would really like you to join me.”
The four goons stared at Mark and Courtney, still with no expression.
Courtney looked at Mark and shrugged. Mark nodded. Courtney turned to Eugene and said, “Does this have anything to do with golf?”
Eugene gave her a puzzled look.
Courtney started walking. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
Mark followed Courtney and the whole group was on their way. They followed Eugene across the underground garage and through a steel door that led into a long, narrow corridor of painted cinderblock walls.
“I hope those rude people outside didn’t bother you,” Eugene said. “They just don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” Mark asked.
“They don’t understand that it’s not their fault. People must accept the fate they’ve been given. Jealousy won’t change that; it only makes them more upset.”
Mark and Courtney exchanged looks.
Eugene stopped short and turned to them. “You understand that, I’m sure.”
Courtney answered, “I don’t understand a word of it.”
Eugene gave her a simple, happy smile. “You will.”
He led them into an elevator. When Mark and Courtney entered and turned around, they saw the door close before the other four boarded.
“There will be other security men when we reach our floor,” Eugene cautioned, as if reading their minds.
The elevator rose a few floors, then opened onto a corridor that was much more plush than the first. It had thick carpeting and large black-and-white photos spaced along both walls. Every twenty feet or so was a closed door with a number next to it.
“This way,” Eugene said, and hurried out.
The two followed, looking at the photos. They were enlargements from all different eras. Mark recognized some of them. There was a shot of Muhammad Ali in the ring against Joe Frazier; circus elephants performing in the center ring; and concert shots from such stars as the Rolling Stones, Madonna, and even Justin Timberlake. Courtney focused more on the sports action shots from many eras that featured the New York Knicks and Rangers.
“I know where we are,” Courtney said softly to Mark.
“Me too,” Mark answered. “I guess we shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Of course not!” Eugene said happily. “You are exactly where you should be!” He stopped at one door and knocked. A moment later the door was opened from inside by another of the security people.
“You’ve got the best seat in the house,” Eugene said warmly.
Mark and Courtney stepped into what looked like a small living room. To the right was a sitting area with comfortable couches and chairs. To the left was a small kitchen that had a full spread of sandwiches and drinks as if set for a party. They both knew this wasn’t the main event. They walked through, headed for the far side, which ended at a glass wall. A glass door opened out to a sitting area where there were a dozen stadium-type seats. Mark and Courtney had only heard about places like this. Neither expected to actually enter one. They both walked past the stadium seats to a safety railing. Spread before them was the vast indoor arena that was Madison Square Garden. Courtney had been there before, for Knicks games. Mark had been there for the circus. Neither had ever been inside one of the luxury suites. The view was perfect, but dizzying. They were up very high.
The Garden was packed. A full house. An elevated stage was erected in the dead center of the arena, where the tip-off of a basketball game would take place. It was surrounded by a solid pack of eager people. There wasn’t a square inch of space available.
Mark nudged Courtney and pointed to a series of large red flags that hung from every level. They ringed the huge arena, creating a circle of bright, fluttering red.
“I think I’m going to faint,” Mark whispered.
Each of the red flags had a single, large symbol. The star symbol. A single, huge white star was painted on the floor of the black stage.
“It’s okay,” Courtney whispered back, her voice quivering. “This is what we wanted, right? We need to know what this is about.”
Four huge photos covered each side of the square scoreboard that hung over the center of the arena. They were different close-ups of the man from the television commercial. He looked like a kindly old grandfather, with perfect hair and a warm smile. To Mark and Courtney, it seemed he was staring right at them.
“He personally wanted you to be here,” Eugene said, motioning to the photos. He had suddenly appeared behind Mark and Courtney.
“Who did?” Mark asked.
Eugene looked surprised. “Why, Naymeer of course.”
“Nay-who?” Courtney asked.
Eugene chuckled as if Courtney had made a joke. She hadn’t.
“Why would he want us to be here?” Mark asked.
“I believe he’s been wanting to meet you since you paid a visit to his home last night. You left in such a hurry, he never got the chance to chat. Enjoy!”
Eugene backed away, leaving Mark and Courtney alone. Mark sat down in a front-row seat. Hard. His legs wouldn’t hold him anymore. Courtney held on to the railing, because she feared she might go over the edge.
“No” was all Mark could get out.
“Yes,” Courtney countered. “It’s the guy from the window of the Sherwood house. With the dog.”
“Then the guys who grabbed us from your parents’ house—,” Mark continued.
“Yeah,” Courtney interrupted again. “They were the ones shooting at us.”
“That means the man who’s running this whole show—”
“Lives on top of the flume.”
The lights in the arena went dark. The crowd didn’t cheer the way they would at a concert. Instead they grew quiet. Eerily quiet. Grand music swelled. A single spotlight hit the stage, illuminating the star.
SECOND EARTH
(CONTINUED)
The star on the floor began to sparkle, sending out pinpoints of light that danced over the thousands of mesmerized faces. People raised their hands with their palms open, swaying to the music.
Mark and Courtney sat close to each other. Watching. Wide eyed.
The music continued, building in energy. The people moved rhythmically, their eyes closed to allow themselves to be swept away by the sound.
A booming voice echoed throughout the arena. It was a man’s voice with a hint of a British accent. The voice was calm, but spoke with the authority that came from total confidence.
“Convergence,” the voice began. “All that ever was. All that will be.”
Mark held Courtney tighter. “Is this it?” he whispered. “Is this the Convergence?
Courtney stared straight ahead.
“Embrace it,” the voice continued. “It is for you. The chosen. The visionaries. The elite.”
The crowd let out a gasp of excitement, as if loving the words.
The voice boomed, “When the Convergence arrives, do not have doubts. Do not listen to the skeptics, for they are the lost. The future is yours. Let us enter into it with joy…together!”
The sparkling lights stopped abruptly. Several spotlights hit the center of the stage to reveal a man standing in the center of the star. The crowd erupted with rapturous gasps of joy. He was the same elderly man with the perfect gray hair that Mark and Courtney saw on the television commercial. His pictures hung from the scoreboard. He wore a long, deep red robe. On the back of the robe was a golden star. He stood with his hands out and a warm, fatherly smile on his face. Though he was older, he stood straight and tall—his age was not about to slow him down.
“Naymeer?” Courtney whispered.
Mark shrugged. “I guess.”
The man stepped off the star and circled the stage so everybody could get a good look at him. People from below reached up, trying to touch his gown. He never got close enough to the edge for that to happen. Mark noticed that there were several security types on the floor, holding the crowd back from touching the man. They all wore the same red shirts as the guys who had kidnapped them. And shot at them. On either end of the arena near the ceiling, two huge video screens flashed to life, each showing a live close-up of the man named Naymeer.
Raven Rise Page 23