Prophet of Doom: Delphi Chronicles Book One

by D. S. Murphy

  “I’m about two seconds away from calling the cops,” he said. From the look on his face, he was serious.

  “Look, I’m sorry about before. My friend and I…” I shook my head. This had to come out right. “Just hear me out. Please.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You have exactly sixty seconds,” he said. He gestured for me to get on with it, but I didn’t know where to start. Should I talk about meeting him in the future first, or the impending doom that awaited us all?

  “Fifty seconds,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  I blew out a quick breath of air to calm my nerves. “My name is Alicia,” I said, starting with the basics. “And you’re Tracy Kettleman. I know this because we’ve already met… in the future.”

  He barked out a laugh and shook his head.

  “Holy shit. I knew it. You’re crazy.”

  “I’m not! This is real. I’ve been having visions of the future. Zamonta somehow genetically modified food and people got sick and turned into these horrible creatures. Everyone is dead. Except you, because I saved you. Because I told you it was going to happen. So now I’m here. Telling you. But I need your help to stop it.”

  “Go to hell,” he said. He tried to close the door again, but I pushed forward.

  “You’ve had a crush on a girl named Maya since preschool!” I blurted. The door halted, inches from my face.

  “How do you know that?” He asked, peering through the slit in the door.

  “The same way I know that you have exactly three shirts, all a different shade of blue, and you still sleep with your stuffed elephant named Moose.”

  He crossed the threshold in an instant, standing so close I could feel his breath on my face. He looked like he was about to strangle me.

  “Get the fuck off my property,” he said softly, through clenched teeth. I had to remind myself that he was younger than me, and that the fate of the world depended on this conversation.

  “I know things about you, because I know you. You may not believe me now, but you will. And I can prove it!”

  “Prove what? That you belong in a mental facility? Because I’m convinced.”

  I fumbled in my pocket for a pen, but couldn’t find anything to write on.

  “Do you have a piece of paper?”

  He didn’t respond so I grabbed his arm suddenly. He flinched, but I held on to him firmly.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, as I started writing numbers on his arm.

  “These are the numbers for the Powerball draw happening in a few days.” My hand lingered on his arm and his face contorted slightly. “It’s only for 50 grand, but there’s more where that came from. A lot more.”

  He frowned, and I could tell he still didn’t believe me.

  “Please, Tracy. I know you don’t know me yet, but just trust me. If these numbers don’t win, I swear I’ll back off. You’ll never see me again. Just watch the drawing.”

  I backed away, and watched his muscles relax when I stepped off his porch.

  He watched me cautiously, but the anger was gone.

  “You clearly need help,” he said finally, reaching up and brushing his long blonde hair behind his ear. “But not the kind you’re asking for.”

  He closed the door before I could react and left me standing there, more unsure than when I arrived. I glanced back once I reached the street, and saw a light flash on in the upstairs window. A silhouette appeared behind the curtains. The shadow seemed to stay with me as I finally turned to walk away. It was already dark, and I shuddered, imagining mods ready to jump out and rip me to pieces.

  16

  The next day I stayed in bed until noon. When I was little, my parents made my sister and me get up and go to church on Sundays. We had to dress up in scratchy dresses and comb our hair. I don’t remember much of it except the tray of cookies in the reception area, playing with other kids in the backyard, and a few craft projects based on Bible stories. The weekend after mom died, dad didn’t seem to even know what day it was. I got up on my own, put on my best yellow dress, combed my hair and waited downstairs. When Tamara finally came down, she fixed herself some cereal and said “we’re not going to church today, stupid.”

  We never went again. Church was more mom’s thing anyway. Tamara focused her passion on saving the world with “things that actually matter” like protecting the environment. I grew to appreciate lazy Sundays at home. Recently, dad and I had fallen into the habit of having a late brunch together. I’d do homework while he worked on Sunday crosswords from the newspaper. But this Sunday things felt different. Maybe it was because I knew our time together was finite. I wondered how many Sundays we had left, of quiet companionship and taking things for granted.

  Then I frowned and pushed the blankets off. It doesn’t have to happen that way. It won’t. I’ll find a way to stop it. I got dressed and splashed some water on my face, just when the doorbell rang. I peeked out the window and saw Chrys’s green van parked outside. She waved up at me.

  “Mall trip!” she shouted when I opened the door.

  “Seriously?” I said.

  “Come on, it’s tradition. And you’ve got to help me pick out a dress for winter formal.”

  “Cody asked you already?”

  “Not exactly, but he will. You might want to look for a dress of your own while we’re there.”

  “For what?” I scoffed.

  “Come on, it would be so much better if the four of us went together. Do I have to spell it out for you? Go with Brett.”

  “One, he’s taken. Two, what makes you think he’d ever ask me?”

  “You’ve been saying for years that Courtney doesn’t deserve him. And now we’re like, all hanging out together and stuff. Doesn’t that seem like a sign?”

  “I don’t even know if he’s interested in me,” I said, biting my lip. I visualized the photo in the yearbook I’d found in Brett’s room on my first trip. Prom Queen and King. It had seemed like total fantasy before, but this time the thought made my stomach do somersaults. I almost believed it could actually happen.

  Chrys rolled her eyes and put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards the car.

  “He’s probably thinking the exact same thing about you,” she said. “Sometimes you have to take a chance and go after what you want. Plus, you don’t want to be a virgin when the world goes to shit, do you?”

  “Thought experiment: between finding a boyfriend and saving the world, which one seems most important to you?”

  “Duh, they’re not mutually exclusive. Do both. The world is ending. You may never get the chance again. For the record, I’m completely behind you overthrowing the rule of Queen Courtney and stealing her man, but I can’t actually do everything myself. You have to take some initiative. Dress a little sexier. Wear more makeup. Flirt and touch his arm sometimes.”

  “I don’t know how to do any of that stuff,” I grumbled from the passenger seat. Even before the visions, I couldn’t act normal in front of Brett Peters. He always made my palms sweat and my words turn into a jigsaw puzzle in my brain. And now… I might have convinced him I could see the future, but I could feel his skepticism. If he found out what future Tamara told me about his father, I’m pretty sure he’d never speak to me again.

  At the mall we hit all our favorite stores. We got milkshakes, gooey cinnamon rolls, browsed the music shop and the novelty store. It felt indulgent, and all the sugar rushing into my blood made me anxious. We were trying to reclaim the simplicity of childhood by repeating our routine, but all I could think of was how much stuff would go to waste. Tracy told me, once the dust settled, each person had their own personal store, if they were brave enough to claim it. Most of the clothes were impractical, and in some stores the prices seemed outrageous. I found myself drawn to utilitarian, functional clothes—a dark, waterproof jacket with a hood and lots of zippers. Long black jeans with rips and tears in them like they’d been used.

  “Ew, don’t go all emo on me,” Chrys said
, when she caught me looking. I realized I’d unconsciously been picking out clothes like what I’d seen Jake and Meredith wearing in the future. Clothes that projected toughness, but were loose enough to move quickly. Natural colors that blended in. I smiled when I remembered what Jake said about me, that I could be a spy or an assassin.

  “Try this,” Chrys said, grabbing a white dress with embroidery in the sleeves. She held it up against me and pushed me in front of a mirror.

  “Perfect,” she said. “Brett will love it.”

  “It’s almost a miniskirt,” I said. “Doesn’t that seem a bit desperate for November?”

  “Nonsense. Wear some boots and a jean jacket.”

  I sighed, but took the dress from her. Dresses weren’t really my thing, but there was an amazing pair of brown mid-calf trooper boots I was crushing on. I’d been saving up for college for years, but still had barely enough for a year at state university. And if the world was ending anyway, what difference did it make? I bought the boots and dress, as well as a few other items that caught my eye—a pair of black fingerless gloves, some tight jeans and a long grey sweater. I grabbed a pair of wool socks also, and a black scarf. It was going to get cold soon.

  Chrys picked out half a dozen frilly dresses and pulled me into the dressing rooms so she could change. After showing me the third one, a pale yellow dress that went down to her ankles, she turned so I could help her with the zipper.

  “So are you going to tell me what’s really going on?” she asked, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “You’ve been acting weird since your last trip. I know you’re holding something back. You found out something else, and you don’t want to tell us.”

  “Why would you think that?” I asked.

  She laughed, stepping out of the dress and kicking it aside.

  “Because I’m your best friend and I know you,” she said. “Whatever it is, I can handle it. I swear.”

  I knew she wouldn’t give up until I gave her something believable. But what could I tell her, that Tamara told me to kill Brett’s father? That she and Cody wouldn’t even survive the breakout? I didn’t know how to tell her those things. I couldn’t. But that didn’t mean I had nothing to share.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, leaning back against the door of the dressing room. “You’re right. I haven’t been totally honest with you. I met someone else in the future. It was really weird, like he’d been waiting for me.”

  “Really? Who?” Crys grabbed the next dress and pulled it up over her waist.

  “His name is Tracy. Apparently, I helped him win a lot of money in our time and that’s why he’s helping me in the future. I don’t know how I found him the first time. It’s all still really confusing, but future Tracy helped me approach present Tracy and—”

  “Wait,” Chrys said, cutting in. “You found him in the present?”

  “Yeah,” I smiled. “He’s kind of a jerk, but he gets better in the future.”

  Crys looked impressed. “Did you… tell him about everything?”

  “I told him enough,” I said. “He thinks I’m crazy, but I don’t blame him. I gave him a winning Powerball ticket to convince him. The draw is in three days. When he wins, I’ll tell him everything he needs to know.”

  “Is he cute?” she asked.

  “Oh my god, no. I mean, I don’t know. He’s younger than us in the present, and way older than us in the future. Is that all you think about?”

  “Just trying to figure out why you were hiding him from the boys,” Chrys shrugged.

  “Because he’s not even on board yet. I mean he’s supposed to do all this stuff for me, stockpile supplies, collect information—he even had a letter I wrote to myself.”

  “Okay…” she said slowly. “That’s creepy.”

  “Now you know why I didn’t tell you,” I said. “It’s too confusing. And all this stuff has to happen, because if I can’t convince present Tracy that I’m telling the truth, then future Tracy won’t be there to give me the information we need to stop things from happening. It’s like I’m on a carnival ride, and I want to get off, but it’s going too fast and I can’t tell where the exit is. I don’t want to keep things from you, but I’m also not sure what I can tell you. I mean, what if something I do now screws things up in the future? I have to consider every tiny decision I make, because it could be the one that ruins everything.”

  “I get it,” Chrys said. “And Tamara?”

  “I’ll talk to her tonight and try to get her to post the predictions. The problem is, even if Tracy and Tamara are in, that only means I’m repeating what I’ve already done, which wasn’t enough. I still have to find a way to actually stop it.”

  “You got this,” Chrys said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Just remember you don’t have to do everything on your own. I’m here for you.”

  “That’s comforting,” I smirked, sizing her up in the pale blue princess gown she was wearing.

  “Are you kidding? I’d rock the apocalypse in this dress. I’ll just keep my sneakers on so I can kick zombie ass. You sure you don’t want one?” She nodded at her reject pile of dresses. Buying a dress in the hopes that someone would ask me to a dance seemed pathetic, even for me. Besides, how could I get excited about a dance with everything that was going on? Even if Brett did ask me, which seemed unlikely, I’d be paranoid the whole time.

  We collected our purchases and headed back out into the main mall. I stopped at a candy store to buy some Skittles for Annabelle. I wanted to buy something for Jake too, but I couldn’t think of anything to get him.

  “Let’s go in here,” I said, nodding to the sporting goods store.

  “Why?” Chrys asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I might need supplies,” I said. “If I need something in the future, it’s not like I can just run to the store and stock up.”

  We passed through aisles of emergency survival gear, fishing rods, and camping supplies. Most of it seemed like junk to me, especially compared to Tracy’s well-stocked future home. He probably had a warehouse full of this stuff somewhere. I slowed down when we reached the gun section, pausing in front of the glass case full of handguns. I took a sharp breath when I saw a black pistol that looked exactly like the one I’d found in Brett’s locker. I wondered if it could actually be the same gun. I’d assumed Brett left it there for me, but I hadn’t asked him. Maybe I’d left it there, for myself? How could I be sure? If I didn’t buy a gun and put it in his locker, would I already be dead right now?

  At least it didn’t have to happen soon. I remembered the feel of the gun in my hand, when I’d shot the mod in the future. I couldn’t count on Jake to save me all the time, I needed to learn to take care of myself. I promised, next time I tripped, I’d make him teach me. After all, if I got killed in the future, I wouldn’t be able to come back and save the present. But guns attracted mods. Maybe I needed something quieter.

  I picked up a compound bow from a rack and lifted it to feel the weight.

  “You’re not serious?” Chrys asked. “Your dad would never let you buy that.”

  “I was just thinking, I should learn some things.”

  “Is it really that dangerous?” Chrys said, putting her hand on my arm. “I mean, you mentioned the mods, but just how bad is it?”

  “I’ll be careful,” I said. “But I should also be prepared. Guns are too noisy, they draw attention. A bow like this, it would just be nice to learn.”

  I couldn’t buy it now, though. My dad would freak out, and I was probably too young to buy weapons anyway. And I didn’t want to get Jake something practical. I wanted to get him something he’d never even seen before, a new experience. Something that didn’t exist in the future.

  I dragged Chrys into the bookstore at the other end of the mall. I was looking for a novelty book, but then I got distracted in the section on prepper guides. I flipping through a book when the pages started burning. What the fuck? I drop
ped the book and turned around slowly, as the orange and pink flames retreated to the edges of my vision. The bookstore was in ruins. Torn books and loose pages made a carpet across the floor. In the center of the store, someone had arranged piles of books into a labyrinth of walls and arches. I heard movement and felt a shadow crossing over me. My heart pounded. A flash of light caught my eye and I saw one half of a heart-shaped locket, hanging from the ceiling at eye level. Then someone touched my arm and I screamed.

  * * *

  “Relax,” Chrys said, picking up the book and shelving it. “It’s just me.”

  I spun around, but the bookstore was normal again. Bright, clean, modern and full of shoppers. I crossed my arms to keep from shaking. What the hell had just happened? It was like a brief glimpse into the future, but I hadn’t even smoked anything. Chrys was rubbing my back and staring at me with a concerned expression.

  “Sorry,” I said finally. “Too much stress I guess. Can you drop me off at home? I think I’m done for the day.

  Dad was in the kitchen when I got home. He was eating lucky charms, which he did pretty much everyday. He never ate it for breakfast though. He was weird like that.

  He smiled up at me and jutted his chin out. I kissed his cheek and sat down across from him.

  “How was the mall?” He asked.

  I shrugged. “Same as always,” I said. “Nothing new.”

  He nodded and I started to wonder what he would do if I told him the truth—that his teenage daughter was in the process of saving the world. Would he think I’m crazy, too?

  “Your sister’s in the living room,” he said through a yawn. “She’s watching one of those food documentaries again. Dinner in an hour.”

  Tamara was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed under her, clenching the remote in her hand as she stared up at the TV.

  “Dad’s eating cereal again,” she said without looking away from the screen. “I thought you said you were going to start cooking.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well I’ve been kind of busy.”