Pestilence: The Calling Series

by Faulks, Kim

  The faint boom of a gunshot slipped through the air, but the sound was far behind us, deeper into the city.

  Parking lots blended into green. Trees towered, vines consumed. My steps slowed at the sight. I’d not seen grass so established, or trees so healthy. I turned my head to the cracked concrete and the shattered glass. It was almost like there were two worlds, one vibrant and lush, and the other—dying, shattering.

  It figured that it was the world we’d tried to create, which would crumble.

  I hadn’t come this way…not since those first few months, not since…

  A sharp whine wrenched me from the thought, for a second I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, or remember.

  The harbor. I lifted my gaze to the distance. The green gave way to an empty space, before the city just fell away. Water hovered at the edge of the roadway. The memory so clear, water filled with boats, and life. Where I watched the tiny black blurs darting under the surface.

  There was once life there.

  Life and laughter. Look at all this, Harlow. His voice filled me. I could feel his hand clasped around mine as we stood on the barrier and stared out into the water. This world will be yours for the taking one day. Don’t you let anyone tell you any different. You can be who you want to be…do things you want to do—within reason. His dark eyes lost the spark of happiness, and for a second desperation flared. You let your heart lead the way, be true to yourself—be honest. ’Cause sometimes that’ll be the only thing you can be.

  I lived by those words. Honesty. Loyalty. Love. First it was to my family…and now it was to myself. Pitt gave a low whine, and then walked ahead. Her movement pulled me forward. I left the trees and the grass behind and focused on the end.

  Gray gave way to green and blue. I waited for the ache inside to ease, for those tight bands around my chest to give—just a little. But the closer I came to the end, the more I realized the harbor wasn’t the place I was searching for.

  I turned to the woman. Hooded eyes glistened with fresh tears. She never looked at me, only at the rolling swell in the distance. I didn’t know what she saw with the soft crash of the waves. But I knew this moment was her truth.

  Tiny blackened fingers peeked out from the edge of the blanket. I stared at that shroud and whispered. “Here it is, the harbor. I can wait with you, if you want.”

  She shook her head and stared at the water. “No…thank you…”

  I took a step, and then another, before I finally turned.

  “Wait.”

  The word stilled me.

  “Do you think it’ll get better? Do you think there’s hope?”

  I’m here, God's voice echoed. And I have a Calling for you.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. “But there’s always hope. I think it has to come from inside you. Maybe that’s what we’re all doing, searching…if that makes any sense?”

  “Yes,” the word was so small I barely heard it.

  I lifted my gaze to the jaundiced yellow clouds and froze.

  In the distance, it stood. White, tall, pointing straight up to the sky. Fragments of color captured me. A church. Like the kind I once saw on TV. Shattered stained glass windows pulled me forward, and, with each step, that vibration in my veins hummed louder.

  The scrape of a shoe echoed behind me as I took a step. The sudden splash filled the air. I took a breath, and kept my focus on the towering white building.

  Because the splash behind me was too loud for a small baby…

  I swallowed hard and kept on moving. Hope lay in the arms of the crashing waves behind me. Hope dwelled inside all of us, whether we wanted to believe it or not. It dwelled in every breath we took, and every beat of our hearts.

  There was no call for help behind me, no screams or sound of any kind.

  I’d save her if that’s what she wanted, or I’d die trying.

  But choice was all we had left in this world. The choice to hate, or hurt—I dropped my gaze to the soft brown eyes of my new companion—the choice to trust, and love.

  And the choice to name the day you finally found peace.

  I took a step, drawn by the vibrant colors in this yellow-stained world. The vibration in my veins sang as my boot hit the ground. I left the soft crash of the waves behind and crossed the concrete path, heading toward the pointed pale tower.

  The gun tapped my thigh with each stride. I clenched my grip, trying to still the shake, but the vibration continued, humming, drawing…pulling me closer as though there was an invisible line between me and what lay inside.

  Pitt gave a low whine, but kept pace, limping beside me as I crossed the street. The wooden door to the church was cracked open. Thick black markings marred the white paint…

  He’s abandoned us! Splashed along the front.

  He…the word sent a shudder through my chest. That desperation came to life. I felt that anger, that rage. I knew the hopelessness they felt. I lifted my gaze to the church tower and mounted the first step.

  The gun bounced harder, smacking against my thigh as I reached for the open door.

  Hello?

  The word echoed inside my head, but my lips were stuck, frozen.

  “Hello?” A harsh wheeze slipped free. I licked my lips, moving through the doorway and inside, and tried again. “Anyone here?”

  Claws tapped against the marble stone foyer behind me. I stole a glance over my shoulder, catching her lowering her head and sniffing. Could she feel it, too? I turned to the entrance and moved deeper.

  This place was a breath, one I hadn’t realized I held. Air flooded my lungs, expanding, swallowing, moving deeper than flesh. The corner of my lip twitched as I moved deeper in, past toppled timber pews, some were missing, some broken and dissembled, reduced to nothing more than kindling for a fire. There was no sadness, not for survival. I scanned the spaces in between, and then sought the shadows before I exhaled.

  This was the place, the connection. This was what filled Nirvana.

  This was where I needed to be…the only question left was why?

  4

  Sunlight cleaved through the broken glass, washing the once midnight-blue carpet with yellows, red, and greens in the most stunning array of color.

  Everything about this place took my breath away. The mask of perfection, the air…I inhaled and felt the Calling hum in my veins.

  I skirted the kaleidoscope of vibrant hues and made for the stairs. I could almost hear the voices, almost feel the love—the feeling resonated from the bricks and the timber…it flooded this place like the bright light.

  So much love. So much desperation and joy and hope. I reached out, skimmed my fingers along the timber railing and stopped. Hope.

  A steel platform lay on its side, the frame bent in the middle, bowing around a book underneath. I stepped closer and knelt. The leather-bound book was face down, the spine snapped, and opened in the middle. Holy Bible stamped in gold on the front of the ornate black leather.

  I reached out, and brushed the hard edges. Power raced, singeing the tips of my fingers. I yanked my hand to my chest. A hiss escaped with the sting. It was just a book, just leather and paper…just words.

  Just words…the thought raced. There was nothing to fear, no bullets, no guns, no men waiting to capture me. Only this…only perfect corners and soft leather.

  My fingers curled, knuckles skimming the edge. The jolt was instant, hot, shooting into my bones before it faded. Pain became something else, something that welled in the darkness. Something that hungered for the light.

  Hard leather bowed under my grip as I snagged the edge and pulled the book free. It slid, pages curling underneath, until I gripped the spine and turned it over.

  Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals…

  Those words seized me, blinded me…bolded words melded into one, and through them the light…the blinding light. I tried to blink, tried to wrench myself from the hold and focused on the words…

  Then I saw when the Lamb broke
one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.

  Revelation…

  Conquering and to conquer. A shudder raced, consuming me.

  Come…I closed my eyes as that voice filled me.

  It was him…the man in my dream. The one riding a white horse with an emerald on his finger. The one who commanded. The one who looked at me as though I were not the hunter—but the prey.

  We’ve been waiting. He whispered, and those words filled my head.

  I wrenched from the memory, and turned to the yellows and red, the light sparkling like jewels. “Who are they? Tell me what you want me to do.”

  Dust motes were swallowed by the perfect hue. I closed my eyes to the image, and opened my mind, searching for the light. Flashes filled me, blood, screams…hunger…and the plague.

  I flinched from the image, swallowed hard, and tried to breathe. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m ready.”

  The tremble in my hand raced, tearing along my arm. The glare was instant, blinding, stealing the air in my lungs. Heat bloomed, spreading through my chest.

  Through the light they came for me. Blood, screams cut through the glare and were swallowed again as four shadows rose. They moved together, surging forward as though they were one. “Who are they?”

  And out of the glare came the words. They are the horsemen, and they are here.

  The clip-clop of hooves resounded. “What do they want?”

  Silence. Silence so loud my ears rang. “What do they want?”

  They are what they are. But you can defeat them, Harlow. This is your burden, your cross to bear. This is your salvation.

  “What do they want?” Desperation bloomed as those blurs sharpened.

  You, Harlow. They want you.

  Tears welled, stealing the beautiful colors in the air. But the vision in my head was crystal clear as the four riders slowed to a stop.

  Darkness shrouded their faces from the wide hoods and dark robes they wore, but I could feel them…their desire, their purpose—their hunger.

  I lifted my gaze to the shadows that clung to their faces and moved closer. The vision blurred, the illusion became almost real. I stepped again, until the soft nicker of the pale horse stilled me.

  “What do you want with me?”

  The pale horse moved closer and stopped. The rider swung his leg over the wide saddle and slid to the ground. I lifted my gaze to the edges of the hood and then moved it toward his eyes. Power raced, crackling like a storm. I took a step, needing to see him…needing to touch him. My fingers danced, fighting the urge to rise.

  Careful, Harlow. The light urged.

  The hooded figure wrenched his head up at the sound of that voice.

  I knew then—knew the two sides at war.

  One good.

  One bad.

  Power lashed the air, hitting me like the crack of a whip. The beast growled…away from her…she belongs to us.

  Not yet, the light pulsed…there’s still time. She’ll come for you…she’ll hunt you down.

  The growl deepened, turning dark and feral. Lightning cut the darkening sky, consuming His light.

  “Come.” The horseman lifted a hand, palm up, fingers reaching… “You belong with us.”

  And out of the lightning came screams of rage, screams of hunger—screams of lust.

  The ground trembled and shuddered, shattering the glass and leveling the shelves along the wall as I slapped my hand over my ears.

  “Stop,” the word was drowned out by the roar. “Stop!”

  Blood and wounds flashed. Still the screams tormented, tearing me open from the inside…for they weren’t just anyone’s screams—they were mine.

  Choose, Harlow, the light urged. You have to choose. Do you belong to the darkness, or do you belong to the light?

  My hand slipped, pages fluttered. The earth was a beast of its own, cracks raced along the walls behind me, somewhere in the building a boom tore free.

  Choose…God commanded.

  I lifted my hand, drawn by something deeper than fear, much hungrier than lust, and stared into the shadows of his pale rider’s hood. He lifted his hand, long thin fingers reached for me, almost brushing, almost touching.

  I wasn’t in the driver’s seat anymore, there was something more powerful at play—something I needed to know—to understand.

  The emerald glinted on his finger in the flash of neon light as the horseman surged forward, fingers curled to capture my hand.

  CHOOSE, HARLOW!

  Out of God’s desperation came something else.

  Something perfect.

  Something real.

  Something that stilled my breath, and the shake in my hand.

  A world…our world. But not the world we lived in. A world that could be.

  Blue skies and white clouds, happy faces of men, women, and children working, laughing—living. They were so healthy, eyes shining brightly, perfect glowing skin. Their hair was long and lustrous, just like Mom’s and Sarah’s before…before the plague….

  “I choose the light,” the words slipped free as an ache filled my chest. I held onto that world with its greens and blues. I held on while the dark skies faded overhead.

  “Then you’ve already lost,” the horseman growled.

  And, in a heartbeat, they faded, taking the vision with them.

  Something wet smacked my face, a piercing sound invaded, sharp, whining. I wrenched my eyes open as the ground shuddered. Timber pews rocked forwards and then backwards. Bits of white plaster rained down from above.

  I lifted my head, catching the fine white dust as a crack savaged the roof above. Pitt moved closer, pink tongue sneaking out, lapping my cheek as she whined.

  “Okay, I’m okay.”

  I leaned over and shoved myself up from the floor. Time had slipped away, leaving me groggy and weak. How long had I been there? How long had the vision lasted? I looked at the open leather-bound book as a crack ripped through the building.

  I turned inward, to that low hum and felt nothing.

  Not a Calling—not anything. Only silence and emptiness. I reached down, and grasped the Bible. “Come on, girl.”

  Movement snagged my focus, and a savage growl echoed from Pitt at my side. A woman raced through the open doorway, hands outstretched, pushing against the rocking pews as she stumbled. She lifted her head, eyes widening as she saw me. Her stare found the gun at my side, and then my companion.

  “Easy,” she yelled and raised a hand. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  A chunk of ceiling dropped inches from where she stood. She jumped backwards, threw one panicked glance to the ceiling, and then she settled on me. “If we don’t move now, we’re going to be buried in this church for good.”

  5

  Don’t trust her. Don’t you dare fucking trust her.

  I glanced at the doorway, and then raised the gun.

  I’d seen women like her used as bait. They were the ones who led you outside where The Mighty were waiting with their chains and lust.

  Don’t trust. The words were ingrained.

  The rumble came again, shuddering the ground and rocking the pews.

  “I’m not with The Mighty, or with the Lost Boys,” she growled, taking a panicked glance behind her. “I’ve got somewhere safe we can go. But first…” she glanced at the gun. “You need to lower that thing and take your finger off the trigger.” Her brown eyes widened, thick curly hair bouncing as she gave a slow nod.

  I eased my finger over the trigger guard and lowered the muzzle. She heaved a pack higher on her shoulders and took a step as the first pew toppled. Plaster crashed, falling beside me. Pitt growled, barked, white teeth snapping as the white dust settled.

  “Gotta get out of here,” the stranger took a step and lifted a finger, pointing to the thin door behin
d the stage. “Through there.”

  Cracks raced along the wall, until perfect glass shattered. I took a step, as the ground howled and roared. The woman was fast, leading the charge with wide awkward steps as she raced for the stairs, straight toward me.

  The handle of a machete stuck out from the top of her pack, easy to grip, easy to use. I glanced behind us, to the open front door. Was she alone? Could be a trap…

  Don’t trust her, Harlow. Don’t trust anyone. But you gotta get out of here, or this place will come down with you in it.

  Pitt sniffed the air, gave a short whine, and limped forward, drawn by the urgency this stranger left behind. I took a step as the cracks in the walls widened.

  I gripped the leather-bound book, took one last look at this sanctuary, and followed my four-legged friend through the hallway to the kitchen, and then out a door.

  The sun peeked through the yellow clouds, burning my eyes. I yanked the Bible high and covered my face.

  “Through here, gotta be fast, okay?”

  The stranger screamed at me as the ground trembled and growled beneath our feet. I did this. The thought hit me as the concrete gaped. A roar filled the air, the four-story building to the right shuddered, glass shattering.

  The world crumbled, collapsing, as the building fell. Hands gripped me, pulling, pushing as I stared at the devastation. “We gotta go now!”

  My steps were a blur as I followed blindly. I didn’t trust, didn’t follow. I didn’t put my faith in anyone but this woman…and Him.

  Then you’ve already lost. Those words resounded as I stumbled through the shattered brick wall to the street behind. I did this…

  The stranger turned toward me. Her lips moved but I didn’t hear the sounds—I didn’t hear anything but the dark thunder in my head…you’ve already lost.

  Her brow furrowed, lips curled, revealing the shine of her teeth. She lunged forward, grabbed the sleeve of my jacket and yanked. I didn’t know where we were headed and followed blindly until my feet found rhythm and the quake stilled.

  “It can come back…aftershocks,” she glanced over her shoulder to yell. “Not much further.”