Lies of the Prophet

by Ike Hamill

  “Lynne!” Carol screamed from far away.

  Lynne pushed up and churned her legs at the steps. She reached Domi and thrust out her hands, finding the door. It took her several seconds to find the handle. She kept turning back to see the Sparkle of the approaching zombies. They moved slowly, but were definitely swarming to her. After one of Carol’s shots, Lynne heard a ricochet rattle off the glass next to her. Lynne pulled at the door. Domi slid in the crack and Lynne followed him, pulling it shut behind her. She watched the cat run forward and then ascend. Lynne backed towards the stairs, watching the zombies approach. She could see them through the door.

  The back of her foot hit the stairs and she climbed automatically. She turned an followed Domi, swiveling her head around to look for Donna.

  The girl had moved towards the back of the building, but Lynne could see her through the walls and floors of the building. Her leg muscles blazed with each step. She’d climbed enough steps that night for a lifetime. She pulled at the railing to keep up with Domi as he led her up the winding stairwell. She breathed fire into her lungs as she came up even with Donna’s light. Lynne looked back to the zombies. They were spread out far below, but some seemed to be growing closer. They had apparently come indoors and learned the trick of stairs.

  Domi ran forward and stopped. She expected, and found, the door. Her hand found this handle automatically, and Lynne turned it carefully. It was unlocked. She pushed open the door and slipped inside. She found the deadbolt and locked the door behind her.

  Ahead, Domi moved slowly. Lynne followed. Donna’s light was directly ahead.

  Lynne wished for a weapon, or at least vision so she could find a blunt object to brandish.

  She stopped when she heard the little voice—“What do you want?”

  Lynne froze.

  “I told you,” said Donna, “that you would bow at my throne. How good of you to come all this way to prove me right.”

  Shots rang out in the small room and Lynne flinched, waiting for the bullets to tear through her flesh. Instead, she heard a low growl from Domi. His Sparkle extinguished immediately.

  “No!” shouted Lynne she took a step forward and then rough hands grabbed her from either side. These were no zombies—Lynne had forgotten about the two bodyguards reported by Marta.

  A leg kicked away her feet and the strong grip on her shoulders shoved her to the ground. Lynne’s knees gave splintering pops as she hit the floor. She stared at the spot where Donna’s Sparkle pooled on the floor. It was different than Gregory’s light had been, different even than the zombies. Donna’s light appeared bright, but thin, like the difference between daylight and a bad fluorescent approximation.

  “That’s a better position for worship,” said Donna.

  Lynne saw that the little Changeling was approaching.

  “My presence is the result of years of preparation and heralds unprecedented success. Now that your ignorant triumvirate has disbanded, nothing stands in our way. We control the streets, the utilities, the media, and the soon the military,” said Donna.

  She moved with her tiny stride up to Lynne. Their eyes were about the same level, but all Lynne could see was the wave of diseased Sparkle coming from the little girl.

  “Now I only want to know one thing, and then I promise to have you killed quickly,” said Donna. “Where did you come from.”

  Lynne whispered, barely parting her lips.

  “What?” said Donna. “Speak up.”

  Donna unconsciously moved a little closer to Lynne as Lynne spoke again—“I don’t know,” said Lynne. She shot out her hands and grabbed for the Sparkle in front of her. It felt like she had thrust her hands into ice-water. Her hands were numb, itching, and then felt hot almost immediately. Lynne knew the sensation, but not the intensity. It was her healing touch, but on a scale she’d never felt before.

  The guards fell on Lynne immediately, but couldn’t dislodge her grip. Lynne held on to the little girl’s arms so tight that their flesh was nearly fused. The cold flowed through Lynne as her energy streamed into the Changeling. Donna’s back arched and her head fell backward. She was enveloped in warmth. Her Sparkle flared and burned bright, but Lynne was oblivious. The girl and woman fell to the side as the guards struggled to release Lynne’s grip. One peeled at her fingers as the other beat his fists against her wrists.

  Lynne felt like she was swimming through the clouds, looking down the stars. They were winking out, one at a time, dropping away in a wave centered on her location. Her shoulders locked and turned to ice. She felt the vapor in her lungs crystallizing. Her smallest capillaries began to burst with the forming ice. One of Lynne’s eyes rolled back into her head, but the other stayed forward. The forward-facing eye saw Donna’s sparkle morphing into green fireworks.

  Behind Lynne and Donna and the bodyguards, down the short hall, the apartment’s door exploded in splinters. Andrew plowed through and flew into the room. He dropped the two guards with two bullets. He followed each to the ground with two more shots.

  “Lynne,” he said. “Let go. Let go so I can get a shot.”

  Lynne’s body had pulled into a fetal position. The little girl was pinned under her, clutched to her chest.

  Andrew scanned the room and then tucked away his gun so he could pull Lynne away from Donna. He clothes were tattered. Andrew was missing several fingers from his left hand, and most of an ear. A jagged cut down his cheek flapped open as he pulled.

  “Lynne!” he shouted. He couldn’t even grip Lynne’s arms or hands — they were too cold. Donna’s were almost too hot. He gave up and pulled out his gun. He place the muzzle against Donna’s temple.

  “No!” Carol shouted from the door.

  Andrew paused. Carol ran over. The lights in the apartment came on just as Carol reached Lynne and Donna.

  She grabbed the little girl around the torso and pulled. Lynne’s fingers tugged, but Carol pulled Donna away. She held the little girl to her chest.

  Lynne curled up tighter on the floor, into a cold, blue ball.

  “Come on,” said Andrew. “The zombies have all stopped moving. Let’s see if we can beat the chaos.” He grabbed Lynne with his maimed hand and straightened her limp body enough to sling her over his shoulder. He pounded down the stairs followed by Carol. “Whatever you do, don’t let go of that one,” said Andrew. “We don’t know what she’s capable of.”

  On the street, Andrew smashed the window of an SUV parallel-parked at a meter. The alarm sounded, but he had it off in seconds. He put Lynne on the back seat and pointed Carol to the passenger seat. Carol still held the unconscious little girl.

  Andrew pulled out over the wreckage of zombie bodies.

  “Did you see what happened to Marta?” Andrew asked Carol.

  “She’s gone,” said Carol. “Nothing left.”

  They bounced and crunched down the streets. Andrew swerved around residents, out on the street to wonder at the mess of collapsed zombies. He followed signs down to the water and found the bridge where they had come to shore. He drove fast, but residents had already started leaving their houses by the time they reached the shore.

  “Shouldn’t we go to the hospital?” asked Carol.

  “They’ll be mobbed,” said Andrew. “The ship’s our best bet. We have fully-stocked infirmary, and if communications are back up I can call in a medic.”

  “Didn’t you leave the ship to run aground?” asked Carol.

  “No, I set the navigation system to run upstream a bit and then hold position. It’ll be waiting for us,” said Andrew.

  Carol followed Andrew down to the inflatable boat. She didn’t know what else to do. She wasn’t sure why she had Donna hugged to her chest. It was some malformed instinct that she couldn’t ignore. The girl was still out, but she was breathing and her heart was beating. Carol wondered if the same were true for Lynne, who bounced on Andrew’s shoulder as they covered the distance to the shore.

  Back on the ship, Andrew laid Lynne on a stretche
r and pointed for Carol to do the same for Donna. She couldn’t. She sat on the edge of an exam table and continued to hold Donna. The little girl moaned and twisted once while Andrew was on the radio, ordering a helicopter to come.

  Lynne woke up before the medics arrived.

  She sat upright and dragged in a surprised breath.

  “I can see,” Lynne croaked.

  “Andrew?” Carol called.

  He came in and pulled a stool up to Lynne’s side.

  “How are you feeling?” asked Andrew. He took her hands in his bandaged hands and looked at her gray fingers. He knew that a couple of her fingers would have to be amputated before long. Her hand would end up looking like his. His fingers had been chewed off, and hers would need to be removed because of frostbite.

  “What happened to her?” asked Lynne. “Where’s the Changeling.”

  “She’s right there,” Andrew pointed to Carol and Donna.

  “No, that’s not her,” said Lynne. She blinked hard and rubbed her eyes. “That’s not her.”

  Carol pulled Donna away from herself and looked at the little girl. The corners of Donna’s lips turned down and she cried. It was the sobbing of a very little girl. Carol pulled Donna back to her chest and cradled the girl’s head.

  “My baby,” Carol said. Tears coursed down her cheeks as the little girl wailed into Carol’s shirt.

  Chapter 22

  Recovery

  “IS SHE GOING TO BE OKAY?” Lynne asked. She pointed her cane at the little girl.

  “Oh, what, the paint fumes?” asked Carol. “Yeah, she’s fine. It’s really not that bad.”

  “It’s hard for me to tell,” said Lynne. “My mom is always painting one room or another. After a while you don’t even smell it anymore. When people come over to visit I always worry that their eyes will start to water or something.”

  “We’re fine,” Carol smiled. She sat with her folded hands between her knees while Donna played with a thick-paged kid’s book on the floor.

  They talked for a while about Lynne’s family. The bond between Carol and Lynne felt unbreakable after everything they’d witnessed together, but they shared very little history. Carol always wanted to ask a million questions to give a foundation to their friendship. Eventually, Carol ran out of things to ask or Lynne ran out of things to say.

  “How’s Andy?” Lynne asked to break the silence.

  “He’s good,” said Carol. “He’s spending most of his time ferreting out all the bad nuns. How’s your leg doing?”

  “Uh, it’s okay,” said Lynne. She touched the bandage that covered her thigh. “They removed a big chunk of the muscle. I think maybe her foot,” she said and pointed her cane at Donna again, “was touching me on the leg. Nobody even asked how I got frostbite in the middle of summer.”

  “There was a lot going on,” said Carol. “You were probably just one of a million strange things the world saw that day.”

  “I guess,” said Lynne. She fished rubbed the heel of her right hand over the bandages on her left.

  Carol glanced at Lynne’s hand—too small from the missing digits—and then quickly looked away.

  “Still no Jenko?” Lynne asked.

  “No,” said Carol. “Still no trace. Andy put my sister in a… um… long-term care… You know?”

  Lynne nodded.

  “Her body is on autopilot, but she’s not there. You know?” asked Carol.

  “Yeah,” said Lynne.

  Carol wiped the corners of her eyes. “At least I have my girl back,” said Carol. “I never even knew she was in there. At least one good thing.”

  “A great thing,” said Lynne. She smiled. “I wonder if Billy could tell us where Bud’s body is?”

  “We haven’t been able to find Billy,” said Carol. “Andy and I went out to his house, but the place was trashed.”

  “That sucks,” said Lynne.

  “Andy wants you to know, if you ever need anything, just say the word,” said Carol.

  “Oh, I appreciate it, I do,” said Lynne. “You guys don’t have to worry about me. Veyermin gave me a great severance package and I’m doing some work for my family. I’m fine, really. Better than fine—I’m just psyched to be able to see again.”

  “Can you see everything?” asked Carol.

  “No, just the real stuff,” said Lynne. “I can’t see anything else, like Sparkle or Ribbons or anything. But, who knows, maybe they’re just not there to see.”

  “Huh,” said Carol. “Well, we’ll get going. Again, don’t hesitate,” said Carol.

  “I won’t,” said Lynne. She took her injured leg down from the chair where it had been propped up and climbed to her feet.

  The two women hugged. Donna glanced up from her book and turned her attention back to smacking the heavy pages.

  Lynne wanted to ask about Gregory, but she knew the topic was off-limits. Gregory regained consciousness sometime while Lynne was in intensive care, and Andrew swept him away to seclusion. As far as the world was concerned, Gregory had expired at the same time the zombies fell dead. His name had become synonymous with the mayhem of the zombie uprising, so he decided to say farewell to his fame.

  “Say hi to Andy for me,” said Lynne.

  “Of course,” said Carol. “Take care.”

  Carol gathered up her bags and her daughter and left Lynne alone.

  Lies of the Prophet

  Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading Lies as much I as enjoyed writing it. The illustrations were created by Dan Moran, and the cover was designed by Chris Wallace (drop me a line if you’d like to know how to contact either of them). I got the idea for Lies when I heard a story on the radio about people praying around a dead body. I only heard a snippet and I wondered why they would do that. The rest of the story developed from that small seed. If you’d like to contact me for any reason, drop me a line: ikehamill@gmail.com or @ikehamill on Twitter. My general policy is this: sign up for my newsletter and I’ll send you my next book free. Look on my website for details.

  You can find my novels and my blog at www.ikehamill.com.

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