by Jayde Brooks
“She’s pretty strong too, Khale, and damn if she isn’t going around here constantly flashing that damn fortitude of hers like a badge,” he said sarcastically.
Eden smiled.
“You know that’s not how I meant it,” she retorted.
Of course that was how she meant it. Khale talked a good talk and even tried convincing Eden that she believed the hype of this reborn Redeemer, but the truth was, she didn’t. She never did. Eden realized that a long time ago. Khale didn’t have the faith in Eden that Khale had had in Mkombozi, and Eden couldn’t fault her for her doubts. Maybe Eden was her reincarnated daughter, but then again, she was Eden too. Just Eden.
“But now is not the time for celebration or to bask in this one victory,” she said, coming out onto the balcony. “I know that you feel safe here, Eden,” Khale said carefully. “I know that this place must feel like heaven on earth to you now, but hell has fallen on the rest of the world, sweetheart.”
“Khale, it’s too soon,” Prophet chimed in.
“It’s been a week,” she snapped at him. “And in that week, the Demon has made his presence known to the people in this world. He’s stronger. Images of Sakarabru—what they can capture of him—are all over the news and the Internet now! He’s destroyed entire cities and military installations, Eden. He’s turned people against each other and has called his Brood Army to order! It’s not going to go away, and it’s only going to get worse the longer we wait!”
Khale was afraid. Eden could hear it in her voice. The Great Shifter was terrified, and she had every right to be.
“We don’t even know where to find the second Omen, Khale,” Prophet argued. “But even if we did, she’s not ready. The first one nearly took her life, and I won’t put her at risk again until and unless she tells me that she wants to do this.”
“Can’t you see, Guardian,” Khale said, frustrated. “It’s not up to you. It’s not even up to Eden. It never has been. The Omen found its way to her. They will all find their way to her whether she wants to be found or not.”
“She’s right,” Eden finally said, looking over her shoulder.
Again, Eden saw herself winding through dark corridor after dark corridor in her mind. She took a deep breath, and squeezed her eyes shut to shake the visions.
“One is incomplete without the others,” Eden murmured to herself, realizing that she had not come by that knowledge on her own. The Omen had given it to her.
“Eden…” Khale started.
Without thinking, Eden jumped over the railing of the balcony and landed on her feet, fifteen feet below on the ground. In an afterthought, she stood there for a moment, wondering why or even how she’d even known it was possible for her to do that without hurting herself. Eden needed to be alone.
“No, Khale,” Eden heard the Guardian tell the Shifter as Eden started to walk away.
* * *
There was no more running from this. Eden knew that now. She walked until she reached the edge of the clearing and entered the forest. Eden was following a passageway. What was this that she was seeing over and over again in her mind? What was this place? And where would she ultimately end up if she just … followed…?
Eden saw a door and she stopped. In her mind she stopped and stared at it. In reality, there was nothing but trees before her. A wave of anticipation rushed over her. Fear of the unknown held her back. But she had to know what was behind that door. She had been coming to this same place in her visions over and over again, only to stop and turn away and try to pretend that it wasn’t real—but it was. It was time to stop running.
Eden stretched out her arm and pressed her palm flat against the door in front of her and slowly pushed it open. There was a small fire burning in the middle of the room, and sitting next to it was a hooded man. All of a sudden Eden stood inside the room and the door closed behind her.
The hooded figure turned his head slightly toward her, but the dark shadows casting across his face made him impossible to identify. It was a mistake coming here. She knew it. Eden began to back away to where the door had been, but when she turned to find it, it was gone.
“You dare come into this place.” The sound of him was not like any sound she’d heard before. His voice came from him and all around him and through her.
She pressed her back against the wall. She conceived a scream that rose up from her stomach and wedged in her throat.
He stood up, and when he did, she could no longer see the top of him. He came toward her. Calves as round as tree trunks, wrapped in sinewy muscle the color of blood, flexed as he walked. The air closed in around her as he pressed closer. It was him. She knew instinctively that this was Sakarabru.
“You dare come to this place,” he repeated.
“I’m sorry,” she screamed, crying. “Oh God.” Eden turned and began scratching at the wall behind her until the tips of her fingers bled.
It was him. It was the Demon. She’d made a mistake.
“Eden. Eden. It’s me.”
“Prophet,” she exclaimed, realizing that she was actually in the forest surrounding his house and that it was broad daylight. She wrapped both arms around him and held on to him with all of her strength.
He’d come for her. Just like before, he’d come for her.
“They didn’t tell me,” she said breathlessly. Khale, and even Rose hadn’t told her the whole truth about the Omens. “They didn’t tell me everything, Prophet.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, stroking her back.
The revelation of this truth was so big, so much bigger than she could embrace fully.
“Eden,” he said softly. “What is it?”
Why hadn’t they told her everything? Eden pushed away from him and stumbled backward. Twigs and dried dead leaves crunched beneath her feet. She looked at him and then wondered if he had known, too? Mkombozi had to have known, and she would’ve told him.
“The Omens,” she started to explain, her chest heaving. “The Omens are a part of him.” Saying it out loud made it sound even more unbelievable. “The first Omen is connected to Sakarabru,” she continued, panicking. “It’s his mind or his thoughts. It’s him, Prophet, and now it’s a part of me. I’m a part of him,” she yelled. Looking at him, she immediately understood that he did know.
Eden backed away from him, shaking her head.
“Eden,” he reached out to her.
“You fuckin’ knew?”
Khale came up from behind her. “Eden we…”
Eden’s heart broke in half. “MyRose knew, too,” she sobbed. “You all knew?”
“It would’ve been difficult to explain!” Khale shouted. “You wouldn’t have understood, Eden. Mkombozi didn’t understand until she also bonded with the first Omen.”
Eden looked past Khale to Prophet. Khale was Khale. She and Eden had never been close; they’d never seen eye to eye on anything, and Eden wouldn’t trust the Shifter as far as she could throw her, but Prophet—he knew, too, and never said anything.
“It wasn’t my place to tell you, Eden,” he said gravely, knowing instinctively what she was thinking.
Her knight in shining armor wasn’t shining so brightly anymore, and Eden realized that all of them had been in on this betrayal filled with half-truths or no truths at all.
“I had no idea how much you remembered, and I didn’t want to tell you something that you weren’t prepared to hear,” he tried explaining.
Eden shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t expect anything from her.” She motioned to Khale. “But I … Mkombozi trusted you, Guardian. She trusted that the truth, all of it, should come from you.”
Eden felt more alone than she’d ever been before.
“No one knows what this is like,” she said sadly. “None of you can understand what this is doing to me inside.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “You don’t know what it’s like to have to depend on finding out the truth about yourself from people who hardly know you. I don’t know if my
thoughts are my own or if they belong to her. I am stuck in a place between Eden and Mkombozi. It sucks. It shouldn’t be like this. I shouldn’t have to pay the price; none of us here should have to pay for the mess you left behind on Theia.”
The first Omen saw to it that the bond had taken place, and it would no doubt lead her to the second Omen. There was no turning back now, and if Eden was going to be forced to fight in this war, then she had better get off her ass and figure out what the hell was going on. The only thing she knew for certain was that in the end, one of them was going to die—Eden or Sakarabru. She didn’t know about him, but at this point, at least for her, death would be a relief.
FIGHT THE POWER
“We don’t have time for this,” Khale snapped at Prophet after Eden stormed away. “I’m sick and tired of coddling that girl. The hope of this civilization is pinned to her, and all she can do is whine and throw tantrums about it.” She folded her arms across her chest. “If it weren’t for the fact that she’d survived that first bond, I would question if she truly was Mkombozi. She never acted like this.”
“Yes she did, Khale.”
The Shifter had selective memories of Mkombozi. He needed to remind her of that.
“She acted just like this.”
She looked at him as if he’d just told her that Mkombozi had had three heads. “She was afraid, Tukufu,” she said, forcing herself to calm down. “But she knew what she had to do, and she did it.”
“Mkombozi knew her role, she played it, but she was as afraid as Eden is now,” he explained. “The only difference was that Mkombozi loved you.” He decided to leave it at that.
“This should not be my fate, Tukufu, my responsibility. It is too much,” Mkombozi said, crying after she had bonded with the first Omen.
It was late, and he woke up to find her sitting on the side of the bed, unable to sleep. Prophet reached out to her, but she shrugged away.
“I am my mother’s general, and I am proud of that. I will lay down my life for her without hesitation.”
He sat up in bed. “She knows that, Mkombozi. You are a great warrior.”
She shook her head. “I am a coward.” She argued. “I am afraid of this thing inside me, and I am afraid that I could be consumed by it.”
“No. No, that’s not going to happen,” he said, reassuring her. “You’re too strong for that. You’ll use the Omen, all of the Omen, to defeat the Demon and then…”
She turned to him. “And then? The bond is eternal, Tukufu. Once a bond has been made, it cannot be broken.” Tears streamed down her face. “I do not want this. I do not want to lose myself to this but I fear that I will. What will happen then?”
“She was as afraid as Eden after that first bond, Khale.”
“You need to show Eden the truth of what’s happening in her world, Guardian,” Khale challenged. “Turn on the news and make her watch. Power up the Internet and let her see the destruction that’s already begun here. Hiding her away from it won’t make it go away, because eventually that devastation will bring itself to your doors.”
If Khale wanted to believe that he was keeping Eden secluded here for her benefit, then let her believe it. The truth was, he had been keeping her here, away from the distraction of everything going on around them, for his own selfish reasons. It was a fantasy he had had and lost when he first made his oath to Mkombozi, a fantasy that included just the two of them, alone.
Khale turned to face him and stretched out her T-shirt for him to read.
DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT
“I wore this one especially for the two of you today,” she said with a weak smile. “Sakarabru underestimated the power of the Redeemer before, but I guarantee you, he won’t make that mistake again.” She swallowed. “No one, not even the other Ancients loyal to me, believe that Eden can do this. Until she survived this bond, I didn’t either,” she admitted. “She needs to make the next bond, Guardian, and she needs to do it quickly. The time is here, Tukufu. It’s now.”
Khale didn’t wait for him to respond before she transformed into a butterfly and fluttered away.
* * *
An hour after Eden had left him and Khale, Prophet finally went inside the house. Eden was just coming out of the shower. He pulled a remote control out of the nightstand drawer near the bed and pressed a button. A large flat-screen television ascended from a hidden compartment at the foot of the bed, and he turned it on.
Together they watched in horror as he flipped through channel after channel of news coverage reporting chaos and deaths happening in cities around the world.
“Linköping, a small town in Sweden, has been overrun with these … cannibals, for lack of a better word.”
“Military forces in Washington, DC, are in the process of setting up a fortified perimeter around the city, creating a sanctuary for those who are uninfected with the virus. However, orders have been given to shoot to kill on sight and if anyone tries to penetrate barrier walls without proper authorization.”
“Experts say that he stands at least nine feet tall, but what he is … He appears to have some sort of influence, if you will, or control over those infected with the virus. They flock to him like rats to the Pied Piper.”
Major corporations had fallen. Bodies littered the streets; homes and businesses burned, all while Prophet and Eden had been here at his place, like birds in a nest. Neither of them said anything for several minutes after he turned off the television. There was no hiding from this. There was to be no running away from it. And they no longer had the luxury of time.
“Mkombozi never told me what it was like.” Prophet finally spoke, breaking the heavy weight of silence in the air. “I just watched her change.”
He tossed the remote onto the bed between them.
“She said that she could feel what he felt. The Omen forced her to know his mind intimately. In the beginning it scared her, but eventually she understood it,” he said solemnly. “And she started to shut me out, Eden.”
She looked so small and so vulnerable, still wet and shivering in that towel wrapped around her. But the fate of the world rested on this young woman’s shoulders, and no one or nothing could stop it. What scared him most of all, though, was the thought of what would happen to her, even if she succeeded in defeating the Demon.
“The bond is eternal, Tukufu. Once a bond has been made, it cannot be broken.”
He had made an oath to this woman thousands of Earth’s years ago, and it was a oath that had surpassed death, destruction, time, and space. She didn’t look like his Beloved from Theia, but he knew better than anyone that she was her. The oath wouldn’t let him make the mistake of committing to another.
“I’ve waited four thousand years for you,” he said, humbly.
Finally, Eden looked at him, and he melted under the weight of those beautiful brown eyes of hers, as if he were falling prey to them for the first time, all over again.
“I failed her, Eden,” he confessed. “It was my job, my sole purpose in life to protect her, even from herself, and I failed to do that.”
She started to come to him, but he held up his hand to stop her.
“It’s said that a Guardian will follow the one he’s sworn himself to, to her death.” Prophet shrugged. “I could have done that, and I would have, except that I knew that I didn’t deserve that honor. I deserved to have to live without her. It’s been an empty life. I’ve lived it half full, but it’s no less than I deserve.”
She looked at him as if she felt sorry for him, and it pissed him off.
“Don’t you dare.” He shook his head in frustration. “Don’t pity me.”
“I’m not. I … I just…”
“I will not make the same mistakes with you that I made with her.” Prophet locked gazes with Eden. “And I won’t let you make the same mistakes she made. You will not shut me out, Eden. You will not turn away from me, and you will not leave me behind again.” He was nearly shouting. “I want to know everything. You tell m
e every damn thing that’s going on in you, with you, to you. Details. I want fuckin’ details so that I can know how to be here.”
She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. He studied her, this human, twenty-four-year-old woman, filled with her insecurities, her stubbornness, and her awkwardness. She was not as graceful as Mkombozi had been, not as tall or as confident in who she truly was at the core of herself. This world, and perhaps Rose and Khale, had been guilty of trespassing on her life when they had no right to do it, but she had a role to play, and the first Omen had seen to it to pull her into this game. If she’d had a choice before, that choice had been removed from her.
“I can’t help you with the Omens, Eden. They are your burden, but know this”—Prophet took a deep breath—“you are mine.”
He needed some air, fresh air, as far away from the ground as he could get beneath him. He needed to fly.
SPITTIN’ GAME
In the normal course of things, changing a flat tire would be of little consequence to a man. Forty-two-year-old Joe Huey worked feverishly to get that old pickup truck back on the road and into Morgantown, Pennsylvania, where he belonged. He’d have been the first to admit that he’d been an idiot, and that it had been his own stupidity that landed him in this mess, stuck out here in the middle of nowhere on this lonely dirt road. All he wanted to do was to hurry up and get home. Joe had been gone for nearly a week on a fishing trip and hadn’t caught a damn thing worth cooking and eating.
As he struggled to get that last lug nut loose on the wheel, he heard a noise coming from the open field on the other side of his truck. He stood up and stared hard into the brush across from him but didn’t see anything. It was probably just a rabbit or maybe a fox. Or it could’ve just been the wind. He decided that he was just being paranoid and went back to changing his tire.
He finally got that last lug off, removed the flat tire, quickly mounted the spare, and hurried to tighten the lugs. Joe was nearly finished, and relief started to set in, knowing he’d be back on the road again in no time. As he stood up, he heard a noise again coming from the field. But this time, he did see something. A tall dark figure of a man stood maybe a hundred yards or so away from him. Whoever he was just stood there, staring back at Joe and standing still like a statue.