The minutes dragged on and his pounding slowed, his body sinking lower to the ground from the weight of this ultimate failure. He reached the ground, snot and tears mingled on his face, blood matted to his fists. He had done this to her; he had given her away.
Her cries echoed in his head as he slid to the ground and curled up at the base of the door. His brain ached with the reality of what he had done and somehow, through the endless assault of pain, Remko fell asleep.
Damien watched as the Scientist was escorted into the room. The screens before them showed each room as the inmates were given the third meal of the day. Remko’s room was skipped as the man had finally passed out from exhaustion from pounding against his cell door.
“What happened?” the Scientist asked. His voice was low and it came out in a growl.
Damien collected his thoughts and again found himself perplexed. What had happened? Everything had gone as it was supposed to, as flawlessly as it had with other patients. How could Remko’s mind have broken through?
“Do I need to repeat myself?” the Scientist asked, his voice louder.
“We aren’t sure exactly—” Damien started.
“Has any other patient displayed such behavior?” the Scientist asked the man in the white coat to his right, ignoring Damien completely. That was never a good sign. A small whimper came from behind them, and Damien glanced at the small child cradled in a guard’s arms. It had taken them quite a while to get the child quiet. The sight of her pink little face caused rage to spring up in Damien’s chest. Remko had showed perfect transformation scores until that brat had screamed her heart out. Why?
Damien turned his attention back to the Scientist, who was murmuring quietly with the doctor beside him. This was another failure on Damien’s rap sheet, and the Scientist did not handle failure lightly. Damien felt sick at the way worry rolled around inside his gut. So many patients had made the transformation perfectly and were now serving the greater purpose as planned, but each time one person fell from the higher state—which hadn’t happened in weeks with the exception of Remko—Damien felt as if he were being brutalized by the Scientist’s judgment.
He needed to speak with the Scientist alone, reassure him that he was still suited to bring the revolution into fruition. Assure him that this was Damien’s purpose.
The Scientist’s voice ripped Damien from his own mental panic. “What of the child?”
A doctor standing nearby stepped forward. “She’ll be given the injection as discussed.”
“Very well; see that it’s done,” the Scientist said, nodding to the doctor.
Damien spoke quickly. “I’ll see that everything—”
“You have done enough,” the Scientist snapped.
Damien felt as if he’d been socked across the chin and nearly stumbled backward.
“What of the Seer camp traitor, Neil?” the doctor asked the Scientist. “He is demanding his son be returned to him.”
“He was never getting his son back. Administer the injection to them both immediately,” the Scientist said.
The Scientist’s eye fell on Damien’s face for a long moment and he understood, without words, that he was running out of chances. A rush of heat rippled up his back and his heart began to race.
The Scientist left without another word.
Jesse met the Scientist as he left the control room. Still shaken by what he had just witnessed, Jesse knew the old man would already be on edge, so he’d have to choose his words carefully.
The Scientist let the heavy door close behind him, sealing Jesse inside the long white hallway alone with the man. The Scientist looked up at the archer, his face expressionless. They stood for a long moment this way before the Scientist spoke.
“Where have you been?”
“You seem displeased with the results of the trial,” Jesse said.
“Don’t try and change the subject, boy. I asked you a question.”
“I was with them.”
“The Seers? Why?”
Jesse considered his answer. “You have always told me that discovery is one of our greatest tools. It is clear that a war is being waged here, and I needed to see for myself what we were fighting against.”
“And you abandon me in order to do so?”
“You asked for my loyalty. I needed to be able to give it to you without hesitation. I needed to make sure I was on the right side.”
The Scientist searched Jesse’s face. “And what have you concluded?”
“I came back, didn’t I?”
“And you expect that to be enough for me?”
Jesse wasn’t surprised by the Scientist’s reaction. The man was one of the few people in his life who had ever taken an interest in Jesse’s well-being. Now he felt betrayed, and for that Jesse couldn’t blame him.
The story Jesse had told Remko and the Seers wasn’t a complete lie; fooling people was always better accomplished when it was mostly truth. Jesse’s biological father really had been a miserable drunk, and his grandfather really had been the only one around to tend to him as a child. The old man had taken a part-time job working as a groundskeeper for the Scientist’s estate, and Jesse had spent afternoons working the land with him. He’d met the Scientist then, and after his grandfather had passed when Jesse was only eleven, the Scientist had taken Jesse in.
The Scientist had shown Jesse the truth of the poison running through the human bloodstream, explained and helped Jesse understand how the world needed to change and how certain people were called to act out roles that would better humanity.
Jesse had been called, he’d realized quickly. Once a lost boy who believed there was no place for him in this world, he eventually saw that he belonged and furthermore was an essential part of the evolution that was coming.
But old habits lingered, and Jesse had started to question his place. He knew now that had been a mistake.“In truth, there were moments I considered not returning. Their way of life is simple but effective. They really believe Aaron can lead them toward a better life. But I watched that unbridled faith drive a man to try and kill one of his own. I knew then that I would be coming back to you; it was just a matter of leaving at the right time. You taught me to never waste an opportunity for strategy. I wanted to ensure their trust in case it was needed later.”
Jesse gave the Scientist an opportunity to respond, but the man just stared at Jesse, waiting to see how the boy would continue.
“Their entire belief system is frail and will be easily broken by the work you are doing here. I see that now.”
The Scientist nodded. “I have always known this, and I thought it was something you knew as well.”
“Are we not men of science? Is it not our responsibility to question all things we come face-to-face with? That was all I was doing,” Jesse said.
The Scientist took a moment to consider Jesse’s words. “Yes, we are men of science, but we are still men. I need to know I can trust you for what is to come.”
“Understood. I assure you I can regain that trust.”
“Time will tell,” the Scientist said.
Jesse felt a sense of relief. “What would you like me to do now? Should I reinsert myself among the Seers?”
“No, Remko is still the key, and we have him now. The others will crumble without him. For now, I want you close. I will need you soon enough.”
Jesse nodded and followed as the Scientist started down the hall and toward the exit. Jesse matched him in stride and walked beside him as they left the compound.
“I’m sorry if my exploration made you feel abandoned,” Jesse said, “but now I can commit without question. This is the right side to be on.”
The Scientist gave as much of a smile as was possible for him and nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Remko opened his eyes. A cloudy sky hung overhead, and a chill sat in the air. It smelled like rain, even though the ground around him was dry. Tall grass encircled him where he lay.
“Even with the dark clouds,
this place is perfect,” a voice to his right said.
Remko turned his head to see Helms lying beside him. The man had his arms folded behind his head and was using his palms as a pillow. A long piece of grass shot from his mouth as his eyes gazed upward. Seeing him reminded Remko of the events of the last few hours. He had lost Elise.
“How did we get here?” Remko asked.
“This is where the heart comes,” Helms stated simply, “when it’s lost.”
Tears collected in Remko’s eyes, and he couldn’t stop them from slipping down the sides of his face. The breeze fluttered past the two friends as they lay there, the air drying Remko’s tears as it caressed his cheeks.
“Are you lost?” Remko asked.
Helms chuckled, a familiar sound that Remko missed, and pulled the long grass from his lips. “No, I’m here for you.”
“So I’m lost?”
“Surely you know that by now.”
Remko was silent for a long moment. “How do I find my way back?”
“You aren’t going to like what I say.”
Remko knew what would come out of his friend’s mouth next.
“It doesn’t make sense; I can’t see how surrendering will save me,” Remko said.
Helms twisted around so he was propped up on his arm. “That’s because you have no faith. You are seeing with the eyes in your skull. You have to believe, my brother.”
Remko pushed himself up from the ground into a sitting position. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Again, you aren’t going to like what I have to say.”
Let it go.
Remko glanced around but knew he wouldn’t find anyone else. It was the voice in the wind. He looked at Helms, who was smiling ear to ear, his face filled with peace. Remko stood as a crack of thunder crashed against the sky. He strode forward, wondering how far he would have to run to get away from this agony.
Helms couldn’t understand what was building in Remko. All the fear, all the failure he had to be held accountable for. Abruptly the sky overhead opened up and started to pour. Heavy sheets of rain soaked Remko to his core and threatened to wash him off his feet. He turned to see if Helms was okay but couldn’t see anything through the downpour. In every direction there was only rain, thick enough to make Remko feel as if he were trapped inside another prison.
Something moved in the rainy haze to his right and a soft laugh broke through the pounding drops. The figure moved, small in size but with power, and Remko found himself chasing after whatever was splitting the sheets of rain as it ran. More laughter, sweet and innocent, reached his ears. He pushed forward with more strength. The creature had disappeared, but something deep inside Remko’s gut was desperate to find it.
Another peal of laughter came from his left and Remko pushed in its direction. He ran for several minutes, changing his course to follow the giggles gliding through the air. The rain began to ease and Remko pushed back the hair that was dripping into his eyes. He pulled up to a stop to catch his breath and searched for what he had been chasing.
Several yards ahead he saw him. A boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a familiar face. Remko knew him but wasn’t sure how. The boy was climbing up a tree, each branch shaking under his weight.
Remko started for the tree, a nervous twitch setting into his bones. The little boy was climbing too high, but he didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. The branches got thinner as the boy ascended, but he didn’t even seem to notice. He was going to fall.
Remko’s jog turned into a full-throttle run. The boy reached the top, his face bright with joy, not a shred of concern for his safety. How could he be so foolish?
“Hey,” Remko called, but the boy didn’t look his way. “Stop—you’ll fall!”
The boy finally glanced at Remko and laughed, shaking his head. He looked down and with a small gasp, he jumped.
Remko felt his heart stop as he watched the boy fall from the tree toward the hard ground. He pumped his legs as hard as he could manage but knew he wasn’t going to reach the base of the tree in time to catch him.
“No!” Remko screamed as the boy plummeted into the grass and out of sight. He stopped. Surely the boy had hit the ground and was dead. Remko couldn’t find the air he needed to fill his lungs, and his chest ached.
Familiar laughter drifted up from the spot where the boy must have landed and Remko stood in disbelief. He couldn’t have survived. Remko took a cautious step forward and saw the grass ruffle just ahead. After a few seconds the boy stepped into Remko’s line of sight. Remko felt disbelieving shock smash against his vision. The boy saw Remko and rushed toward him while Remko felt himself instinctively take a step back.
“Hello,” the boy said as he approached.
Remko just stared at the boy, unsure of what to say. How was he walking?
“Do you want to try?” the boy asked, pointing to the tree.
Remko realized he was asking if Remko wanted to jump.
“Don’t be scared; He’ll catch you,” the boy said.
“Who?”
The little boy laughed. “Don’t you know?”
With a jolt Remko suddenly knew who the boy was. The realization caused him to stumble backward another step. It was him. The little boy was him.
The boy watched Remko with a puzzled look.
The weight of it all—the loss of his family, the fear clutching at his heart, this place filled with confusion, his worry, his self-hatred—suddenly all of it was too much. Remko dropped to his knees and he wept.
Lost to self-pity, he didn’t notice the rain stopping, didn’t notice the young boy moving toward him, didn’t see the way the sun filled the sky. But he felt a tiny hand on his cheek and he raised his head to face himself. The child’s eyes shone with the freedom that Remko longed for.
“Don’t be afraid; our Father is here. You can trust Him if you want to jump. He never lets me fall,” the boy said. The wind whipped around the child and he smiled. “I have to go.”
He slipped away and back into the grass, his laughter sailing back to Remko even after he had disappeared.
30
The field around Remko danced in the warm sun. The dark clouds were gone, the rain only a memory now. Time was moving forward, Remko assumed, but maybe there was no time in this place. The boy had been gone for a while, leaving Remko kneeling on the wet ground, the place on his cheek still warm where the boy’s hand had been. His words played on repeat in Remko’s mind.
You can jump if you want to.
He’ll catch you.
Our Father.
Even in the field Remko felt the familiar gnawing of the tiny monsters coming for his memories. Damien had reinjected him and it would only be a matter of time before he started to forget it all again. He had so longed to forget. He had been convinced the only way to survive the pain was to be rid of it. But the words of his smaller self, the way he’d jumped from the top of that tree without hesitation or fear, were causing him to question what he thought he knew.
The words of Helms were burrowing into his mind as well.
That’s because you have no faith.
You are seeing with the eyes in your skull.
You have to believe, my brother.
Was that all there was to it—belief? So many around him had found peace and freedom, and he’d thought he was heading down the same path, but looking back he wondered if he had missed something. Overlooked what was right in front of him.
His logic tried to talk him back from the edge of the imaginary cliff he was considering leaping off. Of course belief was not all there was to it. They were fighting a war, and he was a soldier. He needed to protect those around him; he was responsible for their well-being. The path Aaron had sent them on was a lie, filled with dangers that only tormented him. Helms spoke of faith, but why was faith necessary in war? Faith was only a distraction.
Remko knew his own arguments by heart, found the language familiar, but something was different this time. Somewhere h
is resolve, his faith in his own wisdom, had snapped. He had lost everything following his way of thinking. He had nothing left. He was drained of power and strength. He would become just a flesh suit, unable to remember who he had been because his memories were again being taken from him. What did he have left to defend? What was he fighting for anymore?
“You could stop fighting,” a voice said. Remko glanced up from the ground he’d been memorizing and saw Aaron standing several feet ahead of him. Rushes of memories hurled themselves at Remko and he took a deep breath to settle himself. The last time he remembered being with this man, he’d tried to kill him. Shame and guilt heaved themselves on top of Remko’s head like boulders, crashing one after the other against his feeble stability.
“Because I’ve lost?” Remko asked.
Aaron moved forward, his eyes warm and fixed on Remko’s. “No, because there was never a war to begin with.”
Remko let out a laugh that was mixed with a sob and shook his head. “Is that your attempt to make me feel better for what I’ve done to—” Remko couldn’t finish his sentence. Aaron’s eyes never left Remko’s, but Remko couldn’t look at the man any longer. His guilt was slicing him open and threatening to overwhelm him. He should say he was sorry, but the words felt like sand in his mouth. How do you apologize for trying to kill someone? Again Remko went back to staring at the ground.
Aaron closed the distance between them and sat down beside Remko. They sat in silence for a long while, the sun warm on their backs, the wind still.
Aaron spoke first. “Anger is a powerful emotion, one that I have experienced plenty of myself.”
“I have a hard time imagining you angry,” Remko said.
“I am just a man; I have felt all the things you do. I’ve just learned to surrender them to my Father.”
Remko felt the new tug in his heart at the word Father. “And now you feel nothing?”
Aaron chuckled. “Of course I feel. I feel fully, all the time. I just walk through what I feel without hesitation or fear, because I know who I am.”
The Calling Page 29