by David Beers
“It’s not over because my brother is still alive, Nicki. It’s not over because he’s going to kill everyone alive, and whether or not it’s fair, you’re the only one that can stop him. I can’t. None of the Ministries can. It’s just you.”
Nicki shook her head. “I don’t want to. I don’t care if he ends everything. There’s nothing here for me, anymore. Let him.”
Daniel scooted to the side and made room for the psychopath. He realized now that he had saved the man’s life, but he still couldn’t think of him any other way.
“She’s far away,” the psychopath said as he sat down next to Daniel. “Way out there where we were.”
“Where did she go?” Daniel asked. He shuddered remembering the pain of that gray light rushing by him, somehow being sucked back into Nicki. He hadn’t thought he’d survive it, the gray light like endless sandpaper rubbing across his flesh.
“I don’t know. She did go somewhere, though. I feel sure of that, because she wasn’t here, but now she is.”
Daniel looked over to the group of four huddling around the One Path Minister’s desk. They were discussing how to survive this onslaught, none of them solely putting faith in their respective gods to prevail. It would be men that saved them, though no one would admit it. Even the Pope would use some Biblical quote to justify himself. Perhaps, ‘God helps those who help themselves’.
“Have you ever done anything like this before?” Daniel asked, still staring at the general and three Ministers. The room was too large for Daniel’s words to reach them.
“No, but I haven’t tried either,” the psychopath said. “The only reason I could do the transference that I showed you in the transport was because of my mentor. We used to play pranks on each other with it. Trying to scare the other. I couldn’t really use this with anyone else, for obvious reasons.”
“So it’s possible?” Daniel asked.
“With your daughter, I think anything is possible. She’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever felt. It’s … It’s frightening.”
Daniel didn’t know what to say, only that Nicki’s sight didn’t frighten him. Not being able to speak with her frightened him. Not being able to see her again frightened him. Death—his own—didn’t mean anything. Nor would the death of anyone in this room bother him. Or the entire world for that matter.
He only cared for his daughter; if some god wanted to damn him for that, so be it.
“I just want you to tell her that I’m alive, okay? Don’t tell her where I’m at. I don’t want her coming anywhere near this place. Just let her know that I’m alright.”
The psychopath nodded. “I’ll try.”
He stood and walked away from Daniel, heading to another corner of the room. Daniel had been amazed when first walking in here; he’d never seen a room so big. The ceiling stretched 100 feet high, the room at least twice that in width and length. Someone could walk across it and practically be in another part of the building altogether.
Daniel watched the psychopath walk across the room, feeling an odd kinship with the man. Two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have thought such a thing possible. Yet, despite the original reason the psychopath had appeared at their house, there was …
What?
An ability to care in the man?
Yes, that’s what Daniel thought he saw. If the psychopath ever got his hands on Nicki, he would hang on to her forever and ever, until his God returned, rapturing the faithful. Yet, outside of her, the man was capable of loving. Daniel had seen the respect the psychopath showed Yule, a reverence that Daniel would never feel again.
And now, while the rest plotted how they might all survive, this one man—partly insane, without a doubt—was trying to help Daniel. To give him a moment’s peace.
Daniel looked at the floor, shaking his head.
Please let him reach her, he prayed, though without any idea who he might be asking.
Jackson Carriage walked away from Daniel Sesam with his own head down, looking at the floor. He hadn’t said anything to Daniel, but he was nervous about reaching out to his daughter. Jackson hadn’t lied when he said she was more powerful than anything he’d ever seen—yet, even that hadn’t been the whole truth.
Jackson could always feel those with the sight, especially when put on their trail. He had always been something like a hound dog in that sense, yet he no longer needed to search for Nicki. He couldn’t even open his eyes and focus on the world around him without feeling her. It was nearly physical at this point.
He felt like someone had placed a hot coal inside his mind, something the size of a walnut. While it wasn’t painful, nothing he could do could take his attention from it. Even when talking with Daniel seconds ago, his thoughts had been constantly drawn to Nicki’s presence.
And it wasn’t just his obsession causing him to do it, either. Jackson recognized his affliction, but this was different. She was pulling him, instead of his mind pushing him.
If he had lied to Daniel, it was when he said he didn’t know if he could reach her. Daniel felt pretty certain he could reach her. He thought if anyone else in the world existed with the sight, they could talk to her, too. If Daniel himself hadn’t lost it, he could have simply spoken with his daughter—perhaps from even across galaxies.
She was just too large. A thought in her direction, and she would pick it up.
Which was Jackson’s concern, his hesitation. Because if he could simply think toward her and she hear his thoughts, what could she do in return? She knew him. She’d seen his affliction up close, and while Daniel might be a bit more understanding at this point, she probably wouldn’t be. She’d only seen one side of him, the part he couldn’t help—the part that grew obsessed when around those with the sight. Nicki Sesam would most likely be scared when Jackson reached out …
And he held no doubt that with a flick of her finger, she could completely destroy him.
Still, he walked across the room and sat against one of the massive windows displaying endless death. He put his back on it, sitting and staring across the room. He saw Daniel to his left, the other group to his right, but he paid none of them any mind.
You might die, he thought. In the next few moments, there might be nothing left of you.
He thought briefly about going to the Pope and having his last rites read, but quickly pushed the idea away. If those over there started asking questions, it might disrupt everything. Jackson didn’t want to get caught up in anything like that. Daniel wanted his daughter back, his own obsession just as consuming as Jackson’s.
Instead of last rites, Jackson said a prayer. A simple thing.
Lord, I’ve tried to love you the best I can. I am a poor ambassador of your will, but I hope you can find it in your grace to take me home to you if I pass from this Earth. In your son’s name, amen.
And then, Jackson Carriage performed a selfless act.
Rebecca stopped talking and looked from Nicki to Brinson.
She’d been talking for a half hour, and now she realized how far lost she was—or rather, how far lost Nicki was.
Brinson looked back at Rebecca, but only shook her head.
I don’t know.
“Nicki?” Rebecca asked.
The girl didn’t move, but simply stared out into the hallway, almost as if in a coma. She had grown more and more solemn the longer Rebecca spoke, but Rebecca hadn’t known what else to do. Out of everyone in this hallway, she was the only one who understood the terror just beyond the horizon.
And right now, David had to be on his way to begin it all, heading to the Nile River.
“Nicki?” Rebecca asked again.
The girl said nothing.
Brinson stood and walked across the short hallway, then knelt down in front of Nicki. Brinson snapped her fingers in front of her face, but there was no reaction.
“What the hell happened?” Rebecca said, moving from the bench down next to Brinson, looking at the girl.
“I—I don’t know,” Brinson said as i
f she should have somehow been responsible. “She seemed alright, seriously, like moments ago. I mean, she hasn’t been talking much--you have been--but she wasn’t brain dead.”
“Don’t say that,” Rebecca whispered just before snapping her own fingers. No reaction.
“She’s been through too much,” Brinson said. “She might have broke.”
A sick panic was spreading from Rebecca’s core to her extremities, feeling like minor electrical jolts moving through her body.
This couldn’t be happening. If this woman wasn’t their savior, then who? Who would stop David? Because Veritros was no more, only a ghost that no longer even came and went.
“NICKI!” Rebecca shouted.
Her voice echoed down the hallway, and the silence that followed was a horrifying reminder that the woman in front of them had left.
“What do we do?” Brinson asked after a moment, both still kneeling, stunned.
Rebecca didn’t have a clue, not truly. Only one thing came to her mind, the only real option.
“We’ve got to take her to the Nile.”
“Like this? We can’t,” Brinson said. “Look at her. Just look at her. She’s holding herself up, but that’s it. What are we going to do, walk her out to the river and tell her to fight the weapon? You think she’ll just wake up and listen to us?”
Brinson shook her head and stood up, then backed away a few steps. “Look, this girl might be powerful. She might be able to do everything your brother can. But I’m not going to your brother, especially not if she’s the one that’s supposed to stop him. I don’t care what you think, nor what some dead ghost thinks, if she’s the one that told you to come here. This girl can’t stop him. I’ve seen him. I’ve watched him kill hundreds, if not thousands, without so much as taking a single step. This girl will die, and we will too.”
Rebecca didn’t turn around to look at her. She stared at Nicki Sesam, the young lady that David had been so determined to kill. And now, looking at her, Rebecca didn’t understand why either. She was dazed at best, comatose at worst, and David moving forward like Corinth’s own legend—unstoppable.
“Listen,” Rebecca finally said, still not moving. “All I can do is tell you what’s going to happen if we fail. I can’t make you go. If she wasn’t like this right now, I couldn’t make her go either. But if she is like this, and she’s not improving, then I’m going to bring her with me. Because even if I’m the last person alive, I’m going to keep trying to stop him.”
Because Veritros would, Rebecca thought. Because if she’s still alive, then she’s still trying.
“No,” Brinson said. “I’m not going. I’m done. I’m done with him, with Corinth, with them all. I’m not going to die for any of this.”
A sad smile spread across Rebecca’s face. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re going to die for it whether you want to or not. You can choose to believe or not, but you can’t change the arc of fate. You don’t have to come, though, Brinson. I won’t make you. I won’t even ask you. I’m taking her, though, because she might be able to stop my brother.”
A long time passed, and finally Rebecca stood up. She didn’t look at Brinson, only reached down to Nicki and took her hand. Rebecca pulled and the woman moved easily enough, capable of being led if not speaking.
Rebecca turned around, still holding Nicki’s hand, and looked at Brinson. “Thanks for saving us.”
She said nothing else and wasted no more time. She walked slowly down the hall so that Nicki could keep up.
Raylyn watched them go, her words ringing in her head.
I’m not going. I’m done. I’m done with him, with Corinth, with them all. I’m not going to die for any of this.
Lynda spoke to her, a voice that she hadn’t heard in what felt like lifetimes, though had actually only been a few short weeks.
Is that what it’s come to, Raylyn? You’re so scared that you’d rather sit everything out, even if it means you’re going to die?
The question replaced her own words, hovering in her mind like a dark cloud. Accusing her.
She listened as Hollowborne’s feet echoed in the hallway, leaving this place, taking the transport they’d come in. The only one that was here, for all Raylyn knew. Yet even that didn’t move her forward, knowing that she might be stranded in some foreign Ministry with no way out.
Because I’m scared.
I’m scared to death, scared that I might die.
And that’s okay! her mind shouted. It’s okay to be scared!
The sounds of Hollowborne’s feet were fading. Soon she would leave.
“I’m not going,” she said aloud. “I’m not facing him again.”
Her stubborn side spoke up, the one that Manor had given birth to—telling his story of how he ended up following the weapon.
What did you tell him? Manor? That you weren’t joining any more false notions. That if he wanted to die for such things, then that was fine. It was his choice, but you wouldn’t sacrifice your own soul so that he could follow around some false god. I’m not going to judge that, Raylyn. Perhaps some might, but you can live with that decision. This one here? I don’t think you can.
The voice paused as if hoping Raylyn might see reason. When none came, it continued.
This decision here isn’t made out of any true principle. The one with the Prophet and Manor, that one was. You’ve lived your life in deceit, and you won’t do it again for man or woman. Right now, this is different. This is you valuing your life over everything. You refused to join this Prophet, and now you’re refusing to help kill him.
“What can I even do?” she asked, her voice low. Raylyn’s eyes stared forward, seeing nothing, only listening to her internal monologue.
I don’t know, but you can stop standing here. You can go find Hollowborne and not sacrifice your soul to the god of cowardice, which is what you’re doing. Not choosing a side can be brave, and maybe it was back on that beach. Or maybe that was choosing a side, one that says you don’t have to bow to anyone. There’s a difference between that and saying the only thing you will ever bow to is yourself, especially when you’re a coward.
Raylyn closed her eyes. She nodded, seeing Lynda’s face. Because she hadn’t been a coward. She’d gone to her death, believing it was for Corinth. She’d been ready to walk away from her career, from perhaps even the True Faith, because she didn’t believe in what that Disciple was doing. If she’d been standing here right now, she would have made a different decision.
And what about Manor? He might serve a false god, but he isn’t a coward. He laid his life down for you, and now he’s probably dead because of it. You’re surrounded by lion-hearted people, and you’ve allowed your own heart to be cowed.
Raylyn opened her eyes, and as she stepped forward, her hands shook. She was terrified, but she couldn’t remain in this dead building anymore than she could have kept carrying that red coin around, knowing how false it had all been.
She walked quickly, hands trembling, tears in her eyes. The last time she’d faced the weapon, she wasn’t able to function; truth be told, even going to him now—her body was trying to stop her. She could hardly see the hallway in front of her.
“HOLLOWBORNE!” she shouted, her voice shaking as bad as her hands. “HOLLOWBORNE, WAIT!”
The echo of footfalls stopped, and Raylyn kept walking, heading toward a place she didn’t want to go, to a creature that scared her almost more than living.
Barley able to see, she found her way to Hollowborne, who stood in the hallway with Nicki at her side.
Her voice trembling, Raylyn said, “Tell me what she showed you. What Veritros showed you.”
“You’ll have to come with me. I don’t have time to waste talking about it here.”
Raylyn swallowed but her stubborn side didn’t speak up. It was silent, because the decision was made, just as it had been with the coin. She was going forward—terrified, but her soul intact.
Seventy-Four
Perhaps a
s much as anything else, it was the vision Rebecca Hollowborne saw that pitted her against her brother. There were other things, of course—the fact that a ghost was speaking to her--but even that might not have swayed Rebecca against David.
Their love was deep, perhaps always would be.
It was the vision that changed things. Years later, she would try to describe it to a woman named Raylyn Brinson, though she could never replicate it.
The vision was of the future.
Rebecca had stood on the bank of the Nile River, David floating high in the air above it.
The river boiled, steam rising, but Rebecca hadn’t been frightened of what it might do to her. The fear wasn’t from pain, but from …
Veritros had spoken.
Eternal darkness.
David’s eyes sparked to life, and gray static flowed from them, wrapping him in a thin, protective layer. She watched him disappear, until only an outline of static existed. He never once looked at her, his eyes staring down at the water beneath.
David descended, his feet touching the river first, sinking beneath the roiling water.
He disappeared, leaving Rebecca standing by herself. This wasn’t the first vision Veritros had shown her, she knew that waiting was a part of these things. Yet, something felt different about this one. Rebecca understood the significance of the Nile, for both the Unformed and every Prophet it chose.
The river continued boiling and Rebecca stared into it, wondering when her brother would reappear.
He won’t, the voice said. Ever.
The water bulged upward, all at once, as if a huge ball had been shoved beneath its surface, yet wasn’t able to push through to the top. The bulge was about ten feet in diameter, and Rebecca stepped back, fear immediately taking hold of her. It had come from nowhere, the water still boiling across it.
Is he okay? she wondered, forgetting completely that she occupied a vision, something not real.