by David Beers
She was next to him, turned the same way and staring out the window, but he did his best not to look in her direction.
If we’re not going to make it, I’ll kill her before they get me, he thought.
Unless they blast you from the sky. Then you won’t have a chance.
Rhett tumbled backwards as the transport nose dived. He fell toward the front of the transport, his back crashing hard on a chair.
“STRAP IN!” Brinson shouted.
Rhett struggled to right himself, looking straight up at the SkyLight above. The ships behind were following suit, dropping straight down too. Once his feet were somewhat set, he looked to his right, seeing Christine lying crumpled with her eyes closed. She was still unconscious from the torture the First Priest had forced her to endure. Brinson was right, everyone back here had to strap in, or they’d likely die from a broken neck.
Rhett slowly moved to Christine as the ship barreled further down, sinking to the bottom of the Shrine. He grabbed her limp body and pulled her close.
“TELL US WHEN YOU’RE RIGHTING!” he shouted to the front, wanting his voice to be heard over the air propulsion system.
A laser zoomed past the side of the transport.
“THEY’RE NOT TAKING US IN!” Brinson screamed back.
Rhett looked out the window and saw the five transports.
“WHAT’S THE PLAN?” he yelled, still staring up at the falling ships.
Brinson said nothing in response and Rhett understood there wasn’t one.
A few seconds passed, then, “RIGHTING!”
Rhett braced himself as the ship straightened so that the ceiling now faced the SkyLight. He held onto Christine as it happened, ensuring she didn’t fall again. It took a few seconds, and he nearly fell, but finally he was standing upright. He rushed to a seat, placing Christine down first before sitting next to her. He pressed the buttons underneath both their chairs and immediately felt the AirLock rush across his chest, pressing him into place.
“WHAT’S HAPPENING?” he screamed to the front, unable to see behind anymore.
Brinson was quiet again, which was answer enough. The transports were still coming. Rhett looked across the ship to Rebecca. She was sitting with her back against the wall, able to see the trailing transports from her vantage point.
“Are they gaining?” Rhett asked.
She nodded, her lips thin.
Minutes passed and Rhett remained still, the AirLock wrapping around his chest. No other lasers fired from the ships—they were still too far out to actually hit anyone. The original had only been sent as a message.
Silence, except for the air propulsion system.
Rhett swallowed.
“Closer?”
Rebecca nodded.
“How much?” he asked.
“They’ll make contact in a few minutes,” Rebecca said quietly, continuing to stare straight ahead.
So this was it, how it ended. All of this for Rhett to die watching the woman who had killed his savior.
Rhett’s hand dropped to the button beneath him, the one that would shut down the AirLock. He rubbed his index finger across it, not quite ready.
“CAN WE FIRE ON THEM?” he yelled up front.
“ONLY FORWARD FACING CANNONS!” Brinson called back.
Rhett looked out the front window. They were moving fast, incredibly so, but they’d dropped below all of the hanging buildings to move at such a velocity.
Rhett pressed the button on his seat and the AirLock shut down. He stood and glanced back for a second. The sight sent a chill across his spine. The ships were almost within cannon range—a minute away at most.
Rhett walked to the front of the transport.
“We have to go up,” he said. “Toward the buildings. We have to try and lose them up there.”
Brinson was pale. She might have been a bigwig within the Prevention Division, but she wasn’t used to participating in battle this close up. Her lips didn’t tremble as she spoke, though, and Rhett thought that was something.
“I’ll wreck.”
“You have about 10 seconds to get up there, or we’re going to die.”
He watched her response, knowing that there wasn’t time to disable her and take control of the ship. She either had to listen, or it was over
She gave a curt nod, and then with no warning, pulled the ship up, the nose facing toward the SkyLight. Gravity grabbed hold of Rhett and he started falling immediately. With one hand he reached up, grabbing hold of Reinheld’s chair. He hung on for a second, his feet floating, pointing at Christine.
“There any other fucking chairs in this place?” he asked.
“Here, I’ll move,” Reinheld said, his first words since the transport took off. He hit the AirLock and crouched so that he was looking at the back of the plane, down toward the center of the Earth. Rhett still clung to the seat, his grip loosening by the second. Reinheld reached down and grabbed Rhett’s other arm, then pulled him up into the ship’s front seats. The space was tight, with Reinheld wedged in the middle.
“Don’t hit her when you drop,” Rhett said, sitting down in the seat.
The fall wasn’t far—maybe two people long. Reinheld wasted no time, simply jumped through the opening. Rhett turned and looked; Reinheld landed on his feet and missed Christine.
Rhett turned to the front. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know!” Brinson shouted. The ship was still heading straight up, and they were nearly at the height of regular buildings.
A laser streaked by the right side of the transport.
“They’re going to fucking fire in the city?” Rhett asked.
“There’s not much city left,” Brinson answered, then yelled to the back. “WE’RE STRAIGHTENING!”
That was all the warning she gave, the ship slowing just a bit, and then she whipped it between two buildings. Rhett looked to the left panel that showed the transport’s rear. He saw nothing for perhaps 30 seconds, and then four ships turned in tandem.
A fifth streaked past, still heading up toward the SkyLight.
“Maybe one down,” he said.
“No,” Raylyn said. “They’re just splitting up.”
As if hearing her, two others ripped off course, one rounding a building to the left and the other to the right.
“They’re tracking us now. They don’t need to see us. They’ll triangulate us.”
Buildings flashed by on Rhett’s left and right.
“There’s no way to lose them?”
Brinson shook her head, her skin paper pale.
Rhett leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. He felt the ship turn right, then left, but he didn’t look up. He racked his brain, hoping to find some solution. If he were David, it would have been easy. Simply open the transport’s top and let the gray take care of the pursuers. He wasn’t though; he was a foot soldier in a lost war.
“Why did you do this?” he asked, his hands still on his face. “There’s no damn plan to get us to safety, so why do any of it?”
The ship pulled left, then dropped down, running along the side of a building. It straightened again before Brinson spoke. Her voice was low. “It wasn’t about escape.”
“This is it,” he whispered. “This is the end.”
The ship banked right, then left.
“I can’t even see them anymore,” she said.
Rhett turned and looked behind him to Rebecca. Now, he thought. Kill her now and be done with the whole thing. The True Faith doesn’t get the pleasure of doing it. No fucking way.
He started to turn his body when he first felt it.
A chill at first, radiating out from his chest. He paused, his intention to move to Rebecca and wrap his hands around her throat momentarily forgotten. It wasn’t a normal chill, not like he’d felt when first seeing the pursuing ships. This was different.
It spread quickly, moving across his chest and to the rest of his body--until goosebumps covered his arms.
&nbs
p; He found Rebecca’s eyes, and she was finally staring back at him, concern across her face. He looked at her arms and even from this distance, he saw the raised goosebumps on her as well.
And then, beneath the skin, he itched.
He.
Itched.
Unbidden tears filled Rhett’s eyes. Rebecca’s mouth opened slightly, almost orgasmic in the ecstasy that crossed her face.
“What are you doing?” Brinson asked.
“It’s …,” Rhett paused, not knowing how to finish the sentence.
You know. You know exactly how to finish it, his mind commanded of him.
“It’s him,” he whispered.
The ship banked left and Rhett swayed with it, barely paying his current predicament any attention. He looked at Christine, and yes, he saw it there too. She was still unconscious, but he saw color coming back to her.
“Who?” Brinson asked, her voice on the verge of outright panic.
A second passed with Rhett only feeling his blood itching, like it had done for so many years—
“DAMN IT!”
Rhett rocked forward, having to grab hold of the seat to keep from toppling into the front window.
He turned around and looked at Brinson, then at the world outside the transport. “What are you ….”
His voice trailed off as he came to understand. The transport hovered in the middle of open air; Brinson had branched out just a bit further than she should, coming outside the line of buildings. Five transports floated in front of them, forming a semicircle.
Rhett watched as one moved up, and another down, both keeping their noses pointed at their transport.
They could only go backward.
Rhett felt the itch growing almost painful, yet it felt good too—in a way that he could never explain in words. He didn’t understand what was happening, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully focus on the moment … Even though he might die in it.
“EITHER LET US BOARD OR DIE,” the voice boomed across the open expanse, Rhett unable to tell what transport actually projected it.
“What do you want to do?” Brinson asked without looking at him.
Rhett looked down at his hands, his eyes growing wide. Gray strands were dripping from them. He lifted his hands up closer to his face, and the gray static moved with him, though drooping down to his lap. “Do you see this?”
Brinson turned her head and opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat.
“What’s happening?” Manor said from the back.
Rhett turned to him, his hands displayed in front of his face. “You see this?”
“WHAT’S IT GOING TO BE?” the voice demanded from outside.
Rhett didn’t give a damn what they were asking him. His eyes found Rebecca’s, the only person in the transport who might understand what was happening—or at least understand as much as Rhett. This had something to do with David.
She shook her head slowly, but her eyes said she wasn’t saying no to his question. Because she was staring directly at his hands, watching the gray strands hanging.
Can you feel me?
Rhett’s mouth dropped open and tears fell from his eyes. There was no doubt—none at all—who was speaking. No nanotech. No other communication devices. Yet, the Prophet had spoken.
“Look,” Brinson, “I’m telling them to board. We’ll fight them hand to hand. I don’t know what else ….” She looked at Rhett for another second and then turned to the window in front of her.
“WE SURRENDER,” a mechanical voice boomed out across the expansion, Brinson’s nanotech directing it.
Rhett turned back around and fell into his seat, unable to comprehend what was happening in front of him. A smile was large across his face, and joyous tears falling down his cheeks.
Can you feel me? the question came again.
“Yes. David, yes … I can feel you!” Rhett shouted aloud, not knowing he was doing it, nor if David could even hear him.
You’re in danger?
Rhett nodded.
This is going to hurt, Rhett, but it’s necessary.
All Rhett could think was ouc—but he couldn’t finish the word before his consciousness was shoved aside.
Raylyn’s hands shook. The man next to her was dripping with the Black’s gray static and the transports in front of her were approaching.
We’ll fight hand to hand, she’d said, having never been in a fistfight in her life.
The Black was somehow inside her transport, and now she was about to lose her life.
“Yes. David, yes … I can feel you!” Scoble yelled.
Brinson turned to him, looking at the man both crying and smiling as though mad. The gray strands were creeping up his forearms, draping off of him like broken spiderwebs.
She glanced back to the front window for a moment. The three ships were nearly on top of them. Raylyn looked back at Scoble and he was …
No longer there.
His body, yes, but Raylyn could see his eyes, and they weren’t his.
He stared at the world with the eyes of the Black.
Gray static burned in them, his face slack, no more tears falling. His hands had dropped to his lap, the static strands moving further up his arms as if lazy spiders were weaving their webs.
“Open the top hatch,” Scoble said, but it wasn’t his voice speaking.
“David?” Hollowborne called from the back.
Scoble turned around with his eyes ablaze and stared at her for a moment before turning to Raylyn. His face was close, and she saw nothing but electric gray—endless and powerful.
“Open the top hatch,” he said again.
Open the hatch, she repeated to the ship’s nanotech.
The ceiling opened above, and Scoble wasted no time. He stepped over the middle console and into the back of the transport. Raylyn had never seen anyone move like him before. It wasn’t Scoble’s natural cadence. It wasn’t a Disciple’s elegance. He moved with purpose, like a soldier without conscience and knowing only one goal.
Scoble stopped beneath the hatch’s opening and looked up. His hands were at his sides, his eyes shining … and then Raylyn watched as he floated upward. One second his feet were planted, and the next they were in the air.
The webs dripping from his arms hung down after him, now almost covering his shoulders like electric ivy.
He moved past Raylyn’s field of vision and she whipped around to see the oncoming ships. Each one had stopped, clearly watching the gray-eyed man who was being slowly wrapped in a lax cocoon.
No one said a word. Raylyn’s breath was caught in her chest.
Green lasers erupted from the ships, the operators deciding that they wouldn’t board—that they would rather kill everyone inside than face the gray-eyed man.
The blast lasted for only a moment, barely enough to register. Raylyn couldn’t see Scoble, but she watched as massive gray webs shot across the three ships. The lasers simply split apart as the webs fell on them, fraying and turning to smoke. The gray static wrapped around the transports, hanging loosely off them just as it had Scoble, drooping down unevenly across each.
Raylyn looked down and saw the ship underneath was covered in the same gray light.
She didn’t bother looking up, knowing what she would see. Her eyes flashed to the front window, her body still as she held her breath. The ships were sparking, bright yellow flashes of fire breaking loose beneath the nets. The ships kept trying to blast at the nets, but each green explosion simply fragmented when it reached the gray light, giving birth to more flames.
The ship on the left started twirling in the air and simultaneously falling.
The other two lasted only seconds longer before doing the same.
ABOVE YOU! LOOK ABOVE YOU! Raylyn’s mind shouted at her, recognizing that the ship up there would shortly fall into hers.
Raylyn’s head jerked upward, but she saw that the transport was already moving across the open space. The gray net hanging
off of it trailed lazily behind.
Once beyond Raylyn’s transport, it fell as well—all the while blasting useless lasers.
Raylyn watched as the sky emptied before her. Breath finally broke free from her chest. She stared forward, her hands shaking and tears coming to her eyes.
You’re not dead, she thought. You’re not going to die.
Those two thoughts kept running through her head for a few moments, and then she heard something land behind her.
Raylyn looked back and saw those gray eyes staring at her, the same ones she’d seen at the compound. Any thoughts of surviving this vanished.
Sixty
Those inside the True Faith couldn’t witness what happened elsewhere in the world. Being underground, none of their faithful could see what the rest of the world did.
Anyone standing outside or looking at the sky saw it—not exactly at the same time, but close to it.
The Pope, Yule, saw it first on the tarp hanging in front of him, then again as he looked out his office’s left window.
He thought only one thing: Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him, and they also which pierced him: and all kindreds of the earth shall wail because of him.
The tarp in front of Yule had displayed the large building floating in the sky. Red lights lit up in a circle around it, powerful lasers warming up on the One Path’s ships. Yule’s hands pressed down on one another and he leaned across his desk. His jaw was flexed to the point of pain, though he didn’t feel it.
Daniel and Nicki were about to die, and Yule now had to watch it happen.
One instant, he watched red dots growing larger, and the next, Yule saw only gray static filling his screen.
There had been no time for change. No light exploding out of the building, no bulging walls as had been at the motel. There had only been red dots, and then nothing but static.
Yule didn’t understand; he stared on, his body tense, thinking it must be a technical malfunction.
“Trinant, I can’t see anything. What’s happening?” he said to the intercom.