The Eye of Madness

  Life went on as normal for several weeks. Rebekah, Malakhi, and Nehemya celebrated Hanukah with Gestas. Thomas and Seth celebrated Christmas in Conway with his boss, Don Lewis, and his family. Lincoln, Einstein, Tesla, the president, and a host of others celebrated Christmas in the White House.

  The president still served in his executive capacity along with the vice president who died during the eye. The remaining members of the government agreed on a special election to occur the third Tuesday in January. This would fill over half of the vacated seats in Congress and several state government positions. It would also elect a new president and vice president. The government officials who perished during the eye were still here. Most wanted to return to their position, but they were denied. Even though the Impals now enjoyed some rights, their nature was too unpredictable. They could be gone in an instant, leaving the government vulnerable.

  Most elected governments around the world were doing the same thing in January. The United Kingdom had to replace their Prime Minister and over half the members of Parliament. The royals were miraculously spared except for one obscure Duke who was on a hunting trip near Kent. He took his own life with a shotgun at the behest of the darkness.

  One sad royal, who died a long time ago, did not have such a great Christmas. Mary spent Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day with a group of homeless Impals. At least she had company, but each of them were miserable. They had no connection with their former lives. They sat in a small abandoned country church singing Christmas carols. They pretended to toast a Merry Christmas to one another. This only made their mood all the more depressing considering the Impals no longer had a need or desire to eat.

  Mary wondered what Donna was doing. She imagined her sitting around a large table garnished with all sorts of food. The house and living room festooned with all sorts of Christmas decorations. It made her happy to think of Donna that way, but it also made her sad with envy. Donna was still a flesher and could enjoy everything about Christmas. Mary’s mental picture of Donna was not too far off. She did have a nice Christmas with her parents, even though they did not eat with her. It was the best and most peaceful Christmas they had enjoyed in years. It was the same for Private Poindexter. He enjoyed the celebration with his fellow soldiers and his favorite storyteller.

  Cecil woke up on New Year’s Day to a dusting of snow. The trees and the grass outside his bedroom window twinkled in the morning sun. As he admired the view, the disturbing feeling that something had changed washed over him. Everything looked the same though. The sky was still blue with white clouds. He flicked the TV on and saw it was working. The Today Show was running a story on the coming special elections. The year had changed overnight, but it was something more. A thought sprang forth in his sleepy brain and he bolted from the room.

  When Cecil reached the stairs, he stopped in his tracks and breathed a sigh of relief. Abbs and Steff were on the top landing looking down at him. His spirits lifted at first until he saw their faces. They seemed haggard, as if they needed sleep. Their sad eyes stung his heart.

  “Girls … are you okay?” he asked.

  The sisters exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison.

  “We don’t feel right,” Steff said.

  Abbs nodded in agreement.

  “W-what’s wrong?” Cecil asked, his heart sinking through the floor. He expected them to disappear at any moment as Abbs did when the eye arrived. Moments before she vanished, Abbs knew something was not right.

  They both stared at him, but did not move until he held his arms apart, inviting them into his embrace. They descended the stairs and sank into their father’s arms.

  Barbara came out of the bedroom and stopped when she saw them.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Cecil tried to give a reassuring smile, but it was impossible. He shook his head and mouthed, “I don’t know.”

  Barbara walked over and kissed both girls on the top of the head.

  “What’s wrong, sweethearts?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know, Mom,” Abbs said. “Something doesn’t feel right … something … we don’t belong here.”

  Thomas and Seth had been playing a board game all night as part of their New Year’s festivities. Father Wilson came by early in the evening and visited with Thomas before playing a few hands of Rook with Seth.

  “I’m sorry about my insensitivity before,” he told Thomas. “I know my mouth often gets ahead of my brain. It’s not a good trait for a priest to have.”

  “It’s fine,” Thomas said. “It was a stressful time for us all. I appreciate you checking on Seth and me.”

  Father Wilson smiled. He then glanced at Seth and rubbed his chin as if he were trying to think of what to say.

  “Thomas, do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “Not at all,” Thomas said.

  “Please feel free not to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  Thomas nodded and waited for his question.

  “Well, the darkness was here for a while … do you think they were demons?”

  Thomas grimaced and shook his head.

  “No, they were the darkest evil that mankind ever produced. I saw their countenance as they lurked in the shadows. They were human, but humans who were rotten and arrogant to the core.”

  “Do you think they were what the Bible proclaims to be demons?”

  “Well, you are the priest, you should know,” Thomas said with a half-smile.

  “I don’t,” Father Wilson admitted. “We have seen such miraculous things the past several months. We have seen definitive proof of the soul’s existence. Even so, I feel as if I have more questions now than before.”

  “I guess the next thing you want to ask is if Seth and I have seen God?” Thomas said. He said it jokingly because he knew where Father Wilson’s questions were headed.

  Father Wilson raised his eyebrows with hopeful expectancy.

  “No, we haven’t, but I am certain he exists,” Thomas said.

  “How?” Father Wilson asked.

  “Look at me, look at Seth … look at the other Impals, can you explain this any other way?”

  Father Wilson shook his head and sighed.

  “I just wish I knew what God’s plan was in all this,” he said.

  “I do too,” Thomas said. “I do too.”

  Thomas did not bring it up with Father Wilson, but he had a singular thought since he discovered Seth after the storm arrived. He wondered what was beyond the doors. What secrets did they hold? Were his parents waiting there to embrace him with open arms and welcome him into paradise? Was Barbara there? Was God? Thomas only knew one thing for certain. Barbara was beyond those doors. He would volunteer for a beating with an iron pipe if he could just see her again, if only for a moment.

  Thomas had been thinking of Barbara all night and as dawn broke, a strange feeling came over him. He got up and walked to the window, uncertain of what he expected to see. Something hidden in the recesses of his psyche, pulled at him with a subtle, yet urgent tug.

  His son stared up at him with a frown.

  “Daddy … I … I … we … don’t,” he said trailing off, unable to form the words.

  “I know, son,” Thomas said, pulling Seth close. “We don’t belong here.”

  CHAPTER 49

  A SELFISH PRAYER

  “Selfishness is the greatest curse of the human race.”

  ~William E. Gladstone

  The feeling to every Impal was subtle as the onset of a cold. It sank into their being, giving them all definitive revelation. None of them knew exactly when this feeling started. Perhaps it was when the eye passed or maybe it was yesterday. All Impals were now consumed with the strong feeling that they didn’t belong. They needed to be somewhere else. The problem was, none of them knew where.

  “What do you mean you don’t belong here?” Rebekah asked Nehemya and Gestas. “This is your home, Dad. Of course you belong here!”

  Nehemya s
hook his head and glanced at Gestas. They both felt the same way, but Gestas was not going to get involved with the conversation. This was between father and daughter. He walked across the room and sat down by Malakhi.

  “I know it is, my dear,” Nehemya said. “But I cannot explain this feeling to you. It is the most certain I have ever been about anything in my life.”

  Rebekah began to weep. “Where will you go?” she sobbed.

  “I don’t know my sweet daughter. I just don’t know.”

  Mary felt it at the same time, but it did not have the same effect as it did with most Impals. She already felt alone and out of place since the eye passed. This new feeling deepened the despair she already suffered. Mary was by herself in a small park a few short miles from Buckingham Palace when she began to cry.

  The Impal community now existed in a heightened state of agitation. Not agitation that would lead to violence, but more like a caged animal desperate to escape. It has been said the heart just knows when it comes to love. Perhaps the soul just knows when it comes to belonging.

  The famous resident Impals of the White House were no exception. They all knew they no longer belonged. They didn’t know why they felt this way, but at least a couple of them had an idea of where they might belong. Einstein and Tesla had discussed theories for weeks now, long before this feeling took hold.

  “What is your opinion, Albert?” Tesla asked.

  Einstein crinkled his bushy mustache and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “I think the energy from the storm made all us visible. It then closed the portal, so to speak, for anyone else to move on after death. I think it is why everyone remained here after the storm arrived.” Einstein paused and nodded at Tesla. “Do you think the Gates worked?” he asked.

  Tesla said, “I think so, but there is no way to be sure. There were no doorways when the Impals went through the Gates. When we faded back onto that plane of existence during the eye, we saw no Gates then either.”

  “None of us know anything for sure, my friend,” Einstein said with a grin. “That is what makes science so interesting.”

  “Where do you think the people are now who have died since the storm left?” Tesla asked.

  Einstein took a long pause and closed his eyes. He seemed to be in a state of meditation. “I think …” he began. “I think it is not unreasonable to assume things have returned to normal.”

  “Then why are we still here?” Tesla asked.

  “I have always believed if you cannot explain something simply, then you do not understand it well enough. I could say our energy was affected, or something is blocking us from passing over. Perhaps it is even some higher plan of the universe. In short, I don’t know why we are still here.”

  This conversation continued after, what many called, “the Impal flu” arrived. The Tesla Gates had worked, in a sense. Perhaps not in the way General Garrison hoped, yet they worked all the same. The Impals returned to another level of existence.

  Einstein and Tesla engaged in a heated discussion with Lincoln and the president. It was scientists against politicians. A battle of wills heightened by their agitated sense of feeling lost. Lincoln and the president did not like what their scientific counterparts suggested. However, something deep down in their ethereal existence knew they were right. After a couple hours of debate, Einstein addressed the group. When he finished, it was as if a light clicked on. They knew where they belonged. The question was, could they get there?

  “My friends, you know me not to be an irrational man. Everything I have ever done has been with a great deal of thought and deliberation. Believe me when I tell you that Nikola and I have put a great deal of thought and discussion into this. We believe it is the only way to get where we want to go. I am tired, you are tired … we are all tired,” he said making a circle with his arms to represent the whole world. “If we don’t try, I feel we will never know peace.”

  “How do you know the doors will be there?” the president asked. “This is taking one hell of a risk.”

  “Life, or in our case, existence is all about risk. I believe the worst case scenario is that we would be as we were during the eye of the storm.”

  “A pretty grim scenario,” Lincoln said. “I existed that way for over one hundred and fifty years and I would not recommend it.”

  “I will go first,” Tesla said.

  “Great,” the president said. “But how the hell are we going to know whether it worked or not if we can’t see you anymore?”

  “Electromagnetic fields,” Tesla said casually. “I worked with them all my life and the one thing that does seem to traverse from one realm to another is electrical energy.”

  “You guys are the scientists so I wouldn’t presume to debate you,” the president said. “I just don’t feel comfortable with this.”

  “It is my risk to take,” Tesla said. “These infernal contraptions have made my name synonymous with the evil they have perpetrated. Perhaps they can now be used for something good.”

  “Is that vanity speaking?” Lincoln asked.

  In his life as a politician, he had uttered many things he wished he could take back. This was one of those times. He understood Tesla’s reasoning. He wouldn’t want his name associated with something so nefarious either. Tesla glared at him and Lincoln quickly apologized. “I’m sorry … I’m a little on edge,” he said.

  “We all are,” Einstein agreed. “But, I think Mr. Tesla’s plan is our most viable option.”

  Tesla smirked. “Trust me, I do not relish the thought of this not working. If the doors are not there, I could wind up in eternal solitary confinement or worse.”

  The first call from the White House went to Cecil Garrison. He was having a rough day trying to comfort his daughters. There was absolutely nothing he could do for them.

  “Cecil, please tell me that all the Gates have not been disassembled yet,” the president said.

  There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then Cecil cleared his throat and said, “Not all, not fast enough. Why?”

  The president relayed their discussion and explained they needed to test their theory. Not all the Impals of the world knew why they felt out of place yet. They soon would and then it would be overwhelming. Cecil felt as if his own soul left his body as he sat listening to the president. He felt empty, he felt hollow and, worst of all, he felt hopeless. He knew what this meant. His blank eyes drifted to his daughters who were sitting on the sofa next to their mother. He wanted to scream. Finally, after several inquiries if he were still there, Cecil uttered a few words just above a whisper.

  “I will meet you at Quantico tonight,” he said and then half hung up and half dropped the phone.

  Barbara watched him with a worried frown, but he ignored her. Cecil hurried up the stairs and into the bedroom. He closed and then locked the door behind him. He fell to his knees beside the bed, leaned over it, and began to pray. Tears blotted the dark bedspread as he uttered the same prayer over and over. A prayer which he feared would go unanswered.

  When Cecil arrived at Quantico that evening, he met Burt outside the hanger.

  “My God, Cecil. You look like Hell! What’s wrong?” Burt said.

  Cecil felt lightheaded. His legs felt as if they were filled with sand. When he spoke it was as if he were hearing himself speak from a distance.

  “We’ve got to turn on the Shredder,” he murmured.

  “What the hell for? I thought those damned things were destroyed!”

  A large SUV pulled up. The back doors opened and Lincoln, Tesla, Einstein, Dr. Winder and the president got out. A few Secret Service agents accompanied them.

  “Tell him,” Cecil said, jerking his head in Burt’s direction. Then he turned and went through the dark opening of the hangar.

  Dr. Winder stayed and explained to Burt while everyone else went inside.

  A few minutes later, all the lights were on and the dull hum of the Shredder powering up reverberated around the hangar. Einstein and
Tesla walked behind the Gate as it fired to life, casting blue, flickering light. Einstein placed a small black box on a table about thirty yards behind the Tesla Gate.

  “What is that?” Lincoln asked.

  “An EMF meter,” Tesla replied.

  “A what?” Lincoln asked.

  “It’s a device for measuring electromagnetic fields in units called milligause,” Tesla explained.

  “I see,” Lincoln said, “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Is this how you are going to communicate with Nikola once he goes through?” the president asked.

  “Yes …” Einstein said. “If all goes as planned.”

  “So how will you know if the doors are back?” the president asked.

  “A simple pattern,” Tesla said. “If they are back, I will try to manipulate the electromagnetic field between realms. I will attempt to produce milligause readings in a sequence of 30-40-72-60-100. If they are not back, I will do the pattern in reverse starting with 100.”

  “Are you certain you will be able to do it?” the president asked.

  “Yes, we are certain,” he said with confidence, yet he gave Einstein a furtive glance.

  The Gate soon ramped up to full power. Nobody in the crowd had seen one before, except one. Cecil saw it kill his father and devour Impals. He knew that if this worked, it would soon be taking his girls away from him. He hated the damned thing and, for an instant, he thought about taking out his pistol and shooting the control panel to Hell.

  With no fanfare, and only a brief adieu, Tesla ascended the platform with his head held high. He stepped forward and dissolved into the cracking arcs of electricity. An instant later, he was gone without a trace.

  A minute passed, then two minutes … there was no activity on the EMF meter. Everyone, including Cecil, walked behind the Gate to check. Einstein stood there, staring intensely as if he were trying to will the meter to move. When they were about to give up, they heard a beep.