by Greg Ness
Mr. Ixley spotted the door he was looking for: the bulky, infinitely strong door. No getting in or out if locked. Mr. Ixley grabbed the thick handle and latched the door open. The disciples were right behind him. Just what he needed.
Mr. Ixley ran into the room and left the door wide open. He marveled at the X circle on the wall in front of him. If the room in his house was a shrine, this was a cathedral. As he ran into the heart of the room, he noticed an Occor, an X-circle, on the metal floor. That’s where Ronnie talked to the angel, he surmised. The door under the gigantic X logo on the wall in front of him opened. Bruce popped in his head and waved toward him, “Come on!”
Mr. Ixley stood firm. “Close the door.”
Bruce’s eyes widened as he screamed, “Come here now!”
The disciples filed into the room. They savagely made their way toward Mr. Ixley. By Bruce’s count there were only 7 disciples in the room. X and 3 other disciples were oddly missing. Mikey closed the door behind the disciples who entered through the main corridor. The door locked, leaving the disciples to turn and wonder. There was no getting out.
Mr. Ixley, through all the mayhem behind him, looked at Bruce. There were mere seconds left before the disciples would reach him and moments before they would all die. Bruce’s eyes filled with sadness. Mr. Ixley’s sacrifice was unnecessary. But Mr. Ixley smiled. He was at peace. He nodded at Bruce, quietly thanking him for everything. The great irony of the prior rivalry between principal and student was that the two had actually learned from each other; they had become necessary counterparts. Mr. Ixley’s nod to Bruce was not only a gesture of thanks, but an acknowledgement of the mutual respect the two had gained for each other.
Bruce nodded at Mr. Ixley and closed the door. He slid the lock into place. That was it. Bruce pulled a remote out of his pocket. The C-4 littered throughout the room was going to blow away the 7 disciples. Bruce stared at the remote. Mr. Ixley was in there. But he had to do it. Mr. Ixley wanted this.
If Bruce pushed the button, all of the Ixleys would be gone. Rachel. Sara. And now, Wayne. Bruce closed his eyes.
And pushed the button. The room behind him blared and shook. The explosives went off unapologetically, destroying everything in their wake.
Determined to finish the job, Bruce ran back toward the main dome room. Unfortunately, X was standing there, waiting for him with Chad, Matt, and another disciple, Ryan.
X asked, “I assume you killed them all?”
Bruce wasn’t just surprised; he was totally stunned. Speechless.
X said, “Did you get Ixley too? Where’s Mikey? Don’t tell me you sacrificed Mikey.”
Just then, Mikey walked into the room through the main corridor, twenty yards from Bruce. Mikey was just as perplexed as Bruce. “Dad!” he yelled.
X instructed, “Go get him, Chad”
Bruce pulled a gun from a belt under his robe and pointed it straight at Chad. “Take one step and I’ll blow your head off.”
Matt pulled out a gun and pointed it at Bruce. “No you won’t.”
X said, “Put the gun down or Mikey dies. Simple as that.”
Bruce’s finger rested on the trigger. He wanted to squeeze it. But he couldn’t. Bruce loosened his grip and placed the gun on the ground. He watched helplessly as Chad walked toward Mikey. Bruce noticed X’s staff resting loosely in his hands. Maybe he could make a move for it.
X spoke up. “It’s a good thing we knew about your little plan. Since we’re pretty much ready to use the Keres, I figured I’d humor you and let you kill a couple of them. It was good though. Real good. But we only need the four of us.”
Bruce exhaled. He was defeated. How could X have known?
Mikey’s eyes stared at Chad approaching him. Chad held out his hand. “Come on, kid. Let’s go.”
Mikey didn’t move. “Don’t think so.”
“Come on, Mikey. It’s over.” Chad reached out and grabbed Mikey’s arm. The two struggled and resisted each other. With his free hand, Mikey grabbed a knife he had hidden in his robe and stuck it under Chad’s ribcage. Chad leaned forward, shocked at the pain smothering his core. He looked in Mikey’s determined eyes.
Mikey twisted the handle and whispered, “Not this time.”
X, Matt, Ryan, and Bruce looked at the scene with great surprise.
“Okay the three of us,” X corrected, “not the four of us.”
Chad fell to the ground as Mikey darted in X’s direction with a bloody knife in hand. With a gun resting at Bruce’s feet, he kicked it toward Mikey. But as soon as it started to travel, X halted its momentum with his staff.
Bruce had enough. He walked face-to-face toward Matt and his gun.
“You gonna shoot me? Then shoot me!”
“Get back or I’ll…”
Before Matt could finish his thought, Bruce, quick as lightning, ripped the gun out of his hands and smacked him in the face with it. Bruce pointed his newly acquired gun at X and pulled the trigger. Click. He pulled the trigger again. Click. Click. Click.
It was empty.
X grinned widely. “We’re too many steps ahead of you.”
Mikey all-out sprinted toward X. Matt braced to stop him. While all the attention was geared toward Mikey, Bruce swiped X’s staff from his hands. A surprised X retaliated by reaching to pick up Bruce’s gun from the metal floor.
Bruce twisted the staff and a blade shot out from the bottom. With X’s left hand exposed, Bruce stabbed the blade through it, ripping it open and slicing through the bones. X let out a pained yell as Bruce shoved the blade further into his hand.
Ryan, a hippie-looking, red-haired man, came to X’s aid, attempting to pull Bruce away. Instead, Bruce pulled the blade out of X’s hand and swung it around toward Ryan. Bruce thrust the staff’s blade into Ryan’s neck, collapsing his muscles and drawing gallons of blood. Bruce ripped the blade out and kicked Ryan’s flimsy dying body away.
Matt had stopped Mikey from reaching X simply by obstructing his path. The two strategically dealt with each other as they carefully tried to read one another’s moves. Mikey held the knife in his hand and was ready to use it on Matt, who inched backwards, preparing for a sudden move. Mikey had other plans.
Before X could deduce what happened, Ryan was dead. Bruce vertically swiped at X with the staff and grazed his left eye with the blade. Blood bursted from the deep cut and poured over his eye. X had to wipe with his sleeve just to see. Beyond the blood, he witnessed the brunt of his staff soaring straight toward him. Bruce swung it like a baseball bat and cracked X’s face. X absorbed the hit and flew onto his back. Bruce stood above him and held the blade at his neck.
“Ronnie Russell,” Bruce seethed.
Matt steadily backpedaled. It was at this moment that he realized what Mikey was doing. “Oh shit,” Matt mumbled to himself.
Mikey leaned over and picked up the gun that was now easily obtainable thanks to his backing Matt away from it. Mikey stuffed the knife back inside a belt in his robe and held out the gun with both hands.
“Dad I got the gun!”
Bruce continued to hold the staff to Ronnie’s neck.
“Dad get off him, I got it! Let me shoot him!”
Bruce and Ronnie stared at each other. Their hatred for each other was deep. Ronnie thought he could trust him. Of course he couldn’t. They were natural enemies with a history. And now their feud was going to end.
“I have to hand it to you, Bruce,” Ronnie whispered in a haunting voice, “it was a nice try.” Ronnie’s hands flashed up and twisted the staff. The blade teetering near his neck disappeared and a blade erupted at the other end of the staff. Ronnie shoved the blade into Bruce, straight into his lungs.
“Dad!” Mikey screamed in horror.
Ronnie rolled away from Bruce and darted away with Matt. Mikey pointed the gun at them and fired away. But it was to no avail. Ronnie and Matt disappeared into the corridor.
Bruce pulled the staff out of his body and let it fall to the ground. The p
ain was excruciating. Even worse knowing he had them. And he blew it. Bruce’s face became pale. He smiled at Mikey. And fell to the metal floor. It was suddenly hard to breathe.
Mikey rushed to his side. “No… come on. I’ll get you out of here. The hospital will fix you.”
Bruce raised his hand. Mikey took it. “I’m sorry, Mikey. Tell your mother… I’m sorry. I was stupid…”
Mikey was overcome. He started to cry and begged, “No. Please. Don’t go. I love you.” Mikey leaned forward and tearfully embraced his father. But there was nothing he could do. The life was slowly slipping away from Bruce.
Bruce’s eyelids slid down and covered his eyes. Blackness. If he focused hard enough, maybe he could see her one last time. Focus. He imagined her smiling. The beautiful detail in her shining face. But it was too late.
Mikey would pull his father out and try to save him.
But he would fail.
It was a noble end to a heroic life.
33
The Final Day-3:33 PM
On the surface of the ocean, a ring of fire formed. Only inches high, it blazed in a perfect circle, patiently waiting for Moros.
Moros looked ahead and took off, sprinting toward the ring of fire that laid on the water. He didn’t bother running through the water. Rather he ran on the water. Like it was a simple surface, Moros’s feet pounded as water splashed up from under them. Walking on water (or running, in this case) was not as difficult as one might imagine. Moros had done it plenty of times.
The world started to stretch. This was it. The ring of fire was just below his feet. He took one last look out at the horizon and took a deep breath.
Moros jumped down through the ring of fire.
Over two thousands years earlier, a younger, 20 year-old looking Moros walked through a rainbow-colored field. As he neared the blue grass, he couldn’t wait to be reunited with her:
Elpis.
As Elpis laid eyes on him, she ran with arms outstretched. Moros, smiling brightly, intercepted her and squeezed. As they embraced, Elpis’s curly blonde hair flowed to her shoulders and blew in the wind. She gazed into Moros’s eyes and said, “I missed you.”
Moros smiled. “It’s only been a week.”
“A week that I have missed you.”
Moros chuckled. “You could have come too, you know. The committee permits it, remember?”
Elpis stared longingly at his lips. Unable to resist, she leaned forward and kissed them. “I’m just nervous. I’ll go eventually.”
Although their love was typically frowned upon, Moros made a deal to keep the committee off his back. There was nothing they could do about it.
Moros caressed her hand. “I got you something,” he whispered.
Moros flashed a metallic ring in front of her eyes. Elpis looked at it with wonderment. “What is it?”
“It’s a ring. You put it on your finger.”
Elpis didn’t get it. “Why?”
“It’s just a decoration. And look…” Moros pointed to two letters engraved on the ring: E.M. “It’s us. Elpis. Moros... E.M.” His face glowed, full of pride for the gift he had gotten her. He continued, “They say because it circles without end, the ring symbolizes unending, undying love. That’s why I got it. For you.”
Elpis plucked it from his hand and analyzed it, mesmerized by the intricate design. She gazed into Moros’s bright eyes and asked the question he knew was coming.
“Where’d you get it?”
Moros splashed through the water. He looked around, scanning the underwater view he was encapsulated in. The water around him disappeared and was replaced with a yellow force field that slivered around him. Within the yellow, black swirls began to mix in.
Without warning, the yellow-black capsule ripped out of the ocean and into the sky. As he rocketed toward the blue abyss, a large boomerang-shaped aircraft shot across the sky.
Both traveling at wicked speeds, Moros’s yellow force field collided right into the boomerang. The timing was impeccable; the boomerang and capsule didn’t skip a beat, they simply joined together. The boomerang shot away at lightning-fast speeds as the world below dissipated into nothingness.
The force field disintegrated around Moros. He now had a clear view of the inside of the sky-borne boomerang. A dim blue hue radiated and illuminated the space. A perfectly molded woman stood in front of him.
“Hi Sophia,” Moros said. His eyes scanned her curvy figure. “You look good.”
She smiled. Sophia was a tall, dark brunette wearing a revealing black, bikini-like outfit. Muscles protruded from her body. She was more masculine than Moros, but still maintained a perfect level of beauty.
Sophia declared, “I missed you, my love.”
Moros walked to the window of the boomerang. In the distance, he could see the tiny spec of Earth’s remnants being blown to bits.
“I’m here now,” Moros declared, slightly annoyed by Sophia.
“So where did you get this ring?” Elpis asked again.
Moros stared into her illuminated eyes. “I had someone make it for me.”
Elpis smiled, urging him to continue.
Moros said, “Next time come with me and I’ll show you. I got it from…
“...Earth.”
34
Michael walked down a magnificent hallway. The sun shone through the open building and a teenaged Moros walked beside him, marveling at the tall white pillars sprawled throughout. Trees and bushes planted along the hallway gave the white marble a more natural look. The people wandering about wore loosely fitted tunics, a common clothing item of the time.
The year was approximately 12 BC.
Michael bent down to speak. “Moros, I’ll only be a few minutes. Okay?”
Moros looked into his father’s blue eyes and nodded.
Michael smiled and rubbed Moros’ hair. He left his son behind as he opened a giant red, metallic door that traversed from the top of the tall pillars to the bottom.
Michael lived a blessed life. Everyday, he was thankful for the opportunity to be a father. It was God’s greatest gift. Nothing could transcend the pride he felt. Moros was a smart boy. Good-looking. Inquisitive. Trustworthy.
Michael walked through the giant red door into the Grand Room to meet with the committee.
Moros opened his eyes and looked through the yellow force field that surrounded him. “Redeo!” “Redeo!” The blue-robed men shouted it over and over. Moros found himself in the middle of a thick forest on a pitch-black night. The disciples stood in the position that Jesus was killed in, with their hands above their heads and their feet crossed together. Moros groaned at the haunting sight.
The 12 disciples stopped chanting, lowered their arms, and stared at Moros. The yellow force field disappeared, leaving Moros standing in the middle of a circle of fire. Moros looked under his feet at the X formation. Looking at the thirteen men, he could sense some surprise amongst them.
The leader, Mr. Wayne Ixley, stepped forward and lowered his hood, revealing his face. Moros looked with surprise as he observed Wayne’s face heavily bruised and bleeding.
Wayne Ixley proclaimed, “It has been ten years since you’ve actually appeared to us.”
Moros asked, “What happened to your face?”
Wayne’s eyes nervously shot around. “Some prankster kids just came through here...”
Little did Moros know, they were Stephen and Bruce.
Moros stepped out from the circular flames to closer inspect Wayne’s face. The light from the fire bounced around. Wayne ogled deep into his dark, blue eyes. Moros continued to stare. In Wayne’s eyes, he could see the foundation of a good man; the light inside of him was bright. Moros flashed a quick smile and broke eye contact. He removed an old blue backpack from his shoulders and gently placed it on the forest floor.
Moros asked sympathetically, “Does it hurt?”
“Yes.” Wayne was uneasy about all the attention Moros was giving to his face.
“Close
your eyes.” Wayne obliged and closed his eyes. Moros held his hand over Wayne’s bleeding, bruised face. He focused and stared at him.
“Alright.” Moros lowered his hand. The bleeding had stopped and the bruise had greatly reduced. Wayne felt remarkably better. “It’s only partially healed,” Moros told him. “In a few days, it won’t even be noticeable.”
“Thank you, angel.” That was all Wayne could call him. He didn’t know his name.
“You’re welcome.” Moros smiled at him. He turned to address the 12 disciples. “To the 12 of you: You are all true heirs to the apostles of Jesus. You possess the same qualities, the same holiness as they. It is through you that Jesus will make his return. Continue to live good lives and follow the Commandments. Continue to pray and spread the Good News: the day is near.”
Moros couldn’t see their eyes, but he could feel the 12 disciples looking at him. He turned to Wayne and bid him farewell. “Thank you for providing the Pythor.”
Moros picked up his backpack from the forest floor and turned to leave.
Wayne blurted, “You can visit at my house. There’s an Occor there.”
Interesting. Moros nodded, smiled at Wayne, and walked away. An Occor was most convenient for traveling between locations on Earth. Perhaps he would use it sometime.
But he arrived for a reason. It would take some time. Some figuring out. Some research. What Moros was planning was not going to be easy. He had all he needed in his ugly old backpack.
“Moros!”
Moros emerged, holding an enormous blue lily that towered over his head. The flower, at least 8 feet tall, sprouted thin blue petals with a yellow center. Elpis stood with him outside of the Temple, where Moros’s father, Michael, was busy meeting with the committee.
“I picked you a giant flower!” Moros said as he struggled to keep it lifted.
As Moros bent forward, Elpis reached for the bright blue petals. She pulled the flower toward her and smelled the middle. “Mmmm, my favorite.” Elpis laughed. “Thanks Moros!”