by KT Webb
Kerr remembered the train trip clearly, and he knew they'd taken the train as a special treat. His dad had arranged for them to spend some time with the conductor, and have a tour of the entire train. It was one of the best experiences of his life, and one of the last experiences he had with his father. Everything about this trip was built around having fun together, even though his dad had to work.
When they arrived in Chicago, his dad took him to the museum just to look around. They were there late into the night, talking about the adventures they would have had living in different eras. The next morning Cole had to get to work, but this time Kerr got to go too. Kerr enjoyed helping his dad and watching him examine the pieces he had to authenticate. The next day was his birthday, so his dad didn't have to work. He took Kerr to a used book store known for its collection of first editions. Cole knew how much his son loved books. He had taught Kerr to read when he was only four. Kerr loved books both old and new, but he loved to read a book so worn he could almost see its history as he thumbed through the pages. Of course, as he came to find out later, he really could see the history of objects and locations if he let them speak to him.
His father ended up buying him quite the collection of first editions as a birthday gift. They left the store with two full bags. Kerr was preoccupied with thoughts of the words he would be soaking up on the train ride home. If he had known these were his last moments with his father, he might have been more present. But how could he have known? As they rounded the corner to their hotel, Kerr stopped dead in his tracks. He barely registered the concern in his father’s voice when he told him to run. Kerr had come face to face with a man who would haunt his nightmares for years to come.
His father saw the man, and knew instantly he intended to cause them harm. Kerr knew his father must have seen the darkness lurking around the man with fiery red hair and a full beard, and when his dad tensed up and told him to run, he immediately obeyed.
Kerr still couldn’t remember how he'd ended up sitting on a bench in the police station. But he remembered his mother’s arrival and her tear-stained face. She handed him the bag of books his father had been carrying and stroked his hair. She told him they didn't know what happened. She told him it looked like he'd died instantly. But Kerr knew she was trying to make him feel better. When he had seen the terrifying man, he saw what he was going to do to them.
He saw his father burning to death from the inside out.
He had encountered many “auras” in his life, but he'd never encountered anyone who affected him this way. Kerr closed his eyes and took a deep breath. At least not until the twins came into his store. When he ran into Whitley, he saw bits and pieces of her future, and it included him. He had to find out who they were.
He grabbed the phone and dialed the number to the cleaning service he'd hired. After a brief explanation of what had happened, they agreed to be there in a half an hour. He hung up with the cleaners and dialed the electrician he used when he renovated the building. The electrician said he wouldn't be able to work him in until tomorrow. He hung up and sighed. It looked like his grand opening would have to be delayed.
Taking a step out of the back, he thought about when he collided with Whitley. For a moment, he'd been able to see her as more than she appeared. He could see the power around her. He sensed good, and saw beauty. His brief contact with Hadley showed him the same thing. He knew this was not an accidental meeting, but something planned by a higher power.
He headed out to the front of the store again, hoping he could get some answers from the man who'd introduced himself as Dorian.
“Well, the electrician can't come until tomorrow, but the cleaners will be here in about half an hour. So, Dorian was it? You mind telling us what you want?” Kerr tried to sound older than his twenty-two years.
Dorian chuckled and raised a hand. “Hold the tough guy act, Kerr. It's not necessary. I won't hurt you. In fact, think of me as the kindly old uncle you never knew.” He saw this wasn't a good enough response, and continued, “I am not going to cause you any harm. You can trust me. Kerr, look at me closely. What do you see?”
Whitley wrinkled her nose. “What does that even mean?”
Kerr shrugged. He didn't want to share too much before he got to know the girls more. “Look, I'll play along, you're not a bad guy, I get it. I don't know what you think you know about me, but you're scaring these girls.”
Hadley and Whitley made offended sounds at the same time.
“We're not scared,” Hadley responded with a hint of irritation.
“Right, well, you said you had some explanations, and we're waiting for them.” Kerr looked directly at Dorian for the first time. He looked into his eyes and saw a faint spark. He knew from that spark that Dorian was telling the truth. He could trust him. This man had done a lot of good in his life, and he was strong. There was something lurking below the surface, but he couldn't quite get a read on it.
Dorian nodded. It was as if he knew what Kerr had just discovered. He found it unnerving to feel as though someone could read him as easily as he could read them.
“Okay, I can't speak for the girls, but I want to hear what you have to say.” Kerr gestured to the back of the store. “We can go up to my loft. It's on a different breaker, so it's possible it was unaffected by the blast. In any case, it has huge windows, so there's probably enough natural light to see.”
“Wait a minute. We're not going anywhere with you. We literally just met you both today. All we know about you is you own this place. And all we know about him is he's creepy,” Whitley said a little louder than she intended.
Dorian and Kerr exchanged a glance. Kerr shrugged helplessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to tell the twins they could trust them. What proof could he offer without freaking them out? Dorian seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“Hadley, how has the weather been lately?” Dorian asked smugly.
Hadley's mouth hung open. Whitley looked at her in confusion. Hadley quickly regained her composure and swallowed hard.
“Okay, we'll go with you,” she said, taking Whitley's hand and dragging her along behind her.
Kerr led the way to the back of the store and unhooked the chain on the stairs leading up to his loft. He stood back to allow the group to go ahead of him. When they reached the hallway at the top, he headed to unlock the door. After everyone filed in and took their seats around his dining room table, they sat waiting for Dorian to begin his story.
Chapter Five:
Dorian
“My story begins many years ago, with a race of people who have been in existence since the dawn of time. They've been known by many names, and appear throughout history. There have been many theories about their many names, but the connection hasn't been made that they are all the same people. Those of us who know their story call them the Old Immortals, but you may know them as Nephilim, Emites, Rephaites, Anakim, Greek gods, Roman gods, Norse gods, Egyptian gods, and most recently, the Mayans.”
He listened as the sharp intake of breath echoed around the table.
“Through the years, they discovered they had been given a gift from their Creator. The Old Immortals were each gifted with unimaginable powers, and immortality. It was because of these gifts the humans were convinced they were gods. But the Old Immortals knew that no matter what the mortals believed, there had only ever been one Creator. The Creator saw the good they could do for humankind. The Old Immortals could teach them and help them to mold their primitive settlements into civilizations. Any time in history when societies made great advances in areas such as science, technology, or architecture, the Old Immortals were responsible. Some humans feared them, but some embraced them. If they were met with fear or reproach, the Old Immortals left peacefully. In all the places that received their assistance, they could only stay for a few hundred years.”
Kerr looked at him and laughed. “Only a few hundred years? Only?”
Dorian smiled and continued, “They finally decided to s
tep away from humankind to develop their abilities and separate themselves from society, and they settled in an area that was far from civilization. But it didn't take long for them to be found. No matter where they went, it seemed as though humans were drawn to them like moths to a flame. Soon, villages sprang up in the areas surrounding them. The humans made sacrifices to them and followed their word as law. And so they became the parents of many great civilizations”
So far, Dorian had the undivided attention of his audience. He was pleased to discover they didn't wear expressions of irritation and didn't seem to be looking at him like a mad man. He cleared his throat and continued.
“One of the many forms of sacrifice was for the villagers to offer a young virgin. At first, they would kill the poor girls, because it was believed that through giving something so precious, they would prove they were truly servants of their gods. When the Old Immortals discovered the purpose behind these sacrifices, they tried to explain a blood sacrifice was not something they wanted but something they abhorred. The villagers did not understand. So finally the Old Immortals requested the virgins be delivered to the foot of the steps of their grand pyramid, alive.”
He could see from Hadley's eyes a realization was beginning to dawn at the back of her mind, but he was pleased she didn't yet voice her thoughts.
“You see, years before, the Old Immortals had discovered they were unable to conceive children amongst themselves. They believed the gifts they'd been given were meant to be shared, so they wanted to produce children so their legacy would continue to grow. Each year, as a virgin was delivered to their door, she would be wed to one of the Old Immortal men. And each time one of these marriages occurred, a child would be conceived from their union. The young wives were treated as queens because, without them, it would not have been possible to grow their race. The joy they felt at being able to produce children was unimaginable. After the first child was born, there was a huge celebration to welcome him to the world. The celebration was short-lived, however, as sadly his mother died in child birth. This was fairly common in those days, so while they were deeply aggrieved, they didn’t think there was harm in continuing to produce children with mortal women. When each of them had a human wife in different stages of pregnancy, it became clear the mothers would not survive delivering the children of the Old Immortals. For the first time in their history, the Old Immortals found themselves divided. Some believed they should stop trying to conceive children, and that maybe it wasn't in the plans their Creator had for them. Some believed the Creator wouldn't have allowed a child to come at all if it wasn't meant to be, and the death of the wives was just collateral damage.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath come from Whitley, but saw the expressions of the others indicating they were ready to hear more. He sighed and decided to continue.
“Those who decided it was wrong no longer took wives and were thankful for the children they were blessed with. The others continued to take wives, and allowed them to bear the pain and suffering of a long, drawn-out death. Because the mothers died at the birth of their child, the barren women of the Old Immortal race raised the children as their own. As the children grew, it was clear they favored the father’s side of the family. They developed special abilities and stopped aging when they reached young adulthood. They also discovered the new generation they'd fathered was not cursed with the same inability to bear children as they were. Their daughters were able to marry and produce healthy children, without dying in the process.”
Dorian looked at them all. They reminded him of children during story time. They were hanging on every word he said.
“As years went on, the Old Immortals began to feel weaker. They didn't understand what was happening. Their children and grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and so on, were stronger with each generation, but they were weakening. Some of the Old Immortals felt this was evolution—they had served their purpose, and their Creator was allowing them to fade until they were no more. But others felt what was happening was unfair. Look what they'd accomplished, this couldn't be their fate. Those who couldn't accept what was happening began finding ways to reclaim some of their power. They discovered that if they killed their descendants, some of their power would revert back to them. Many succeeded in doing just that before the Old Immortals who fell on the side of evolution realized what was happening. Slowly, their progeny began to disappear, until only a handful remained.”
He saw looks of concern on the faces in front of him. He knew they would start to realize what he was driving at, but he didn't want them to think too hard on it just yet.
“Now is the part that will seem less like a grim bedtime story, and more like a reason to lock me up in an asylum. Before I go further with the story, I must tell you, I am far older than I appear. I am one of those Old Immortals, my brothers, sisters, and I have walked this earth for thousands of years, and our lives are coming to an end. Some of us have already faded away, but a few of us remain.”
Dorian noticed Kerr seemed to be fighting an inner battle, so he smiled kindly at him for not interrupting. Hadley looked as though she had been crying, and Whitley sat with her eyes wide, clinging to every word he said. He quietly wondered how they would react to the next part of his story.
“I have three brothers and one sister remaining. Two of my brothers are the type who seek out their descendants and kill them to regain their power—their names are Silas and Absalom. So far, they have murdered over a thousand just between them, and when they finished killing the descendants in their direct line, they decided they could regain power by killing their nieces and nephews. My sister, Tahlia, my brother, Romulus, and I have been keeping close tabs on you because you are what is left of our descendants. You, are what we have come to call the Evolved. All of you have been under our protection for your entire lives. Unfortunately, you have all lost the parent holding the bloodline linking you to us. My final descendant shares all of my power, and it is just a matter of time before I fade away completely. Her name is Nora Lowell.”
“Wait a minute, our dad is a senator. Our mom ran out on us when we were little. What makes you think we're connected to this?” Hadley asked.
“Hadley, you and your sister are actually a very special case. Your mother is the only remaining female of our race. You are the only children ever born to a female Old Immortal. You are also a rarity because you are the only set of twins ever born into our family. She had to leave in order to protect you. Having her around was like a homing beacon to our brothers, and they would love to get their hands on you.”
Hadley was crying openly. “How can we possibly know what you're saying is true? It's so hard to even attempt to believe this craziness. Our mother is gone. I've been looking for her for over a year.”
Whitley looked hurt and confused. “You've been searching for mom and haven't told me? I would have helped you, Had!”
Dorian smiled and gently placed a hand on each girl’s shoulder. “Your mother couldn't use her real name when she married your father. You have undoubtedly been searching for Lia Foster. She created a name when she fell in love with your father. There is no Lia Foster. Your mother is one of my kind. Her name is Tahlia. Your mother is at my house right now.”
“Whoa whoa whoa! What are you talking about? I don't believe this. Look, I don't know Hadley and Whitley well, but I don't think it’s right to mess with them like this,” Kerr said incredulously.
Dorian sighed. “I don't know you'll believe me until you all see for yourselves. Would you all be so kind as to accompany me to my estate? It's just outside of town.”
"Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea. I've seen one too many horror films to know what comes next." Whitley glanced at Hadley nervously.
Dorian laughed, and his laughter filled the small loft. He knew it wouldn't be easy to convince the girls to go with him, but if he gained Kerr's trust, he was certain the girls would follow suit.
"Kerr, I know you can see that there will be no fo
ul play. I invite you to search my past for any indication that I may intend to bring harm to any of you," Dorian said warmly.
He closed his eyes and felt the slightest tug in his mind. He knew Kerr was starting to skim the surface of his intentions. He relaxed and sent him images of the protection they'd all been unaware of for so long.
"I think we can trust him. I will go with you, Dorian," Kerr answered finally.
After much discussion, the girls came to the same conclusion and decided to go with him. The relief Dorian felt was immense, because he wanted them to choose to come under his protection. They had to choose if they wanted to survive.
Chapter Six:
Thatcher
Heading down the alley behind the coffee shop, Thatcher began to shudder at the chill seeping into his bones. He looked around to make sure the coast was clear before closing his eyes and focusing on the Earth’s core. He could feel the heat rising from his feet through the rest of his body. A slow smile spread across his face as he felt the warmth reach through his farthest extremities.
Thatcher allowed himself to sit down against the wall. He had been running for months. All he knew was he'd passed three state lines, and hadn't eaten in days.
He broke the connection between his body and the heat source he used most often while sleeping outside. He was thankful for his ability, because without it he would have frozen to death years ago. When he was twelve, he decided to stop waiting around for a “forever family” and take matters into his own hands. That was when he started running away from every foster home Mrs. North placed him in. Since running away from Silas, he was allowing himself to think more about his past, and was starting to remember the painful event that brought him to Mrs. North in the first place.
Thatcher hadn't had a family since he was four. His parents were the picture perfect example of a loving family; they loved each other, and they loved him. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could remember bits and pieces about his life before he became a ward of the state. He could see his mother smiling at him, or his father pretending not to see him behind the curtain during a game of hide and go seek. He could remember their small two-bedroom house with yellow siding and blue shutters. And he could remember the fire.