Prophet of Doom: Delphi Chronicles Book One

by D. S. Murphy

  “Is there something going on between you two?” She glanced back and forth between us so fast I thought her neck would pop off. “There is, isn’t there? As BFF you’re obligated to tell me!”

  Brett burst out laughing. “I asked her to—”

  “Winter formal!” Crys finished, barely giving him time to speak. “Oh my God! You asked her to winter formal.”

  “What did you say?” she asked, turning to me. “You said yes, right? Of course, you said yes!” She really wasn’t giving us a chance to speak. “Cody do you hear this? They’re going to winter formal together.”

  “I know,” he said.

  She whipped her head around and narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Excuse me,” she asked, putting her hands on her hip. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”

  “I was going to tell you,” Cody said lamely.

  Brett told Cody? I felt tingly with that information.

  “It’s almost eight,” Brett interrupted. “Tamara will be on soon.”

  “I’m not done with you,” Chrys said to Cody. “Expect to be punished later.”

  I turned to kick the snow off my shoes and caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, in the direction of Eric’s house. The curtains in the upstairs window were moving. Was someone up there? It took me about 0.5 seconds to say yes to Brett. I hadn’t even thought about what I would say to Eric, but it wasn’t fair to leave him hanging.

  Brett looked back at me and smiled, and all thoughts of Eric disappeared. It didn’t matter how guilty I felt. Brett was in my house, and he liked me. Despite the chill in the air, warmth spread through my cheeks. Inside I fixed hot chocolate and marshmallows, and we gathered around the TV. I couldn’t believe all this is actually happening; that life had changed so much since my first trip. Deep in my stomach, I felt hope bubbling up inside me. Maybe this was the moment when everything would change. Maybe we could really stop what was about to happen. If so, I’d just be a regular teenager again, getting ready to go to a school dance with the most handsome senior in school.

  “There she is,” Chrys said, turning up the volume. I held my breath as a blonde woman in the blue pantsuit began asking Tamara questions.

  “We’re back with Tamara Gordon, Junior at Prescott University and founder of GreenGrowth, an environemental group for students. You’ve probably seen Tamara’s name in your local paper, but if you haven’t yet, you will soon. Just to sum up, you won the Powerball grand prize this week, not once but twice. Two winning tickets to the same person, sold from the same location. We’ve checked with every national lottery and that’s never happened before. It’s like lightning hitting the same person twice. What do you think makes you so lucky?”

  “Well I’d like to believe that everything happens for a reason,” Tamara smiled, leaning back and crossing her legs. “Maybe something up there is looking out for us, and they thought I could do some good with the money.”

  “And you have—immediately after winning you donated six million dollars to environmental protection agencies and non-profits, is that right? Most people would have bought a big house or a fancy car, yet you gave it away. Why?”

  “What good is a house or a car when humanity is on the brink of extinction? Scientist all agree that we are dangerously near a point of no return. For too long, the most important decisions about the way we interact with the natural world have been decided by special interests and large corporations. I just wanted to even the playing field a little. Unfortunately, six million is a drop in the bucket—oil and gas companies, among others, make billions in profit and can spend hundreds of millions of dollars influencing policies.”

  “So you see yourself as a Robin Hood figure, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor?”

  Tamara laughed. “Not at all. I’m not stealing anything from anyone. I didn’t make all those people buy lottery tickets. But since they did, at least I can put the money to good use.”

  “Some people are saying it’s more than just luck,” the interviewer said. “A few weeks ago, you posted something on your blog, which looks like a list of predictions from a character called the Green Lady. Nearly all of these predictions have since come true. Are you the Green Lady? Do you believe you can see the future? And if so, do you have anything to tell our audience today?”

  I leaned forward, holding my breath. Tamara had to answer this just right or she’d lose credibility. But Tamara was as poised and charming as ever.

  “The Green Lady is a persona I made up. I know how it sounds, it’s so far out there. And I didn’t want to distract anyone from my main message; I mean, global warming is real. Pollution is real. We don’t need dire prophecies or magic or anything woo-woo confusing people or making them think all liberals are quacks. This is science. However, I did start having these dreams, recently. They were so vivid. Maybe it’s just my vegan lifestyle, I don’t know where it comes from really. I’m just a vessel. But when I meditate, these images come to me.”

  “And lottery ticket numbers?”

  “Yes, those too.”

  “On your blog you also have precise dates and numbers though. Things scientists couldn’t have predicted. Doesn’t that mean you believe in something, greater, speaking through you?”

  “What’s belief got to do with it?” Tamara asked. “Like you said, the things I wrote about, they’ve come true. Exactly. I wasn’t wrong once. I know that’s confusing and scary for some people, but if their beliefs can’t adapt to the available data at hand, it’s the beliefs that need to change.”

  “Do you have anything else to say to viewers at home? Anything they should know about?”

  “Yes,” Tamara looked straight into the camera and it zoomed in. “I actually have something very, very important to say. But I need to make sure people will believe me, so let me began with this. On Thursday, it’s going to snow in Miami, for the first time since 1977. They’ll get two inches. On Friday, lightning is going to hit a tree in the town of Charleston, South Carolina. A branch will fall on the powerlines and there will be a blackout over half the city.”

  “Those are bold claims,” the reporter smirked, eyeing the camera. Tamara raised her hand to continue.

  “It’s just a little taste. There’s lots more on my blog. Nothing important, but it’s necessary to get your attention, because what I have to say next must be heard.”

  “Go ahead, we’re all ears,” the reporter said, smiling.

  “We don’t have decades,” Tamara said, fixing the camera with an instense gaze. “We have months. And the thing that’s going to destroy us isn’t global warming. It’s our food. The Zamonta corporation is working on something dangerous. Their scientists are experimenting with modifying genetics, and in less than a year, this research will reduce humans to animals. Civilization will be decimated. Billions of people will die. The man behind it is Kyle Peters, and he must be stopped, at all costs. Stop Kyle Peters, save the world.”

  25

  The room was so quiet we could have heard a pin drop.

  “I didn’t know she was going to say that,” I said, turning towards Brett.

  “But you told her,” Brett said quietly. “You told her it was my dad. That he was the one responsible.” The look on his face was one of personal betrayal.

  “I didn’t tell her to name him directly,” I said, reaching my hand towards his arm.

  “You didn’t tell her not to,” Brett said, pulling away.

  “Can we focus on the positive for a second?” Chrys interrupted. “She did it. National TV. Everyone knows now. This is great, right?”

  I nodded, but I didn’t feel happy.

  “If people believe her,” I said. “And even if they do, it might not change anything. I mean, you heard what she said. Corporations like Zamonta are worth billions. They don’t care what the public thinks of them.”

  “Whatever, I’m celebrating,” Chrys said.

  “And it’s easy to check, right?” Cody asked. “You just take som
e more phylia and see what’s changed. If it worked, no mods.”

  We all looked at Brett.

  “Not tonight,” he said finally, rubbing his jaw. “It’s dangerous at night, so you can go tomorrow. Rockwoods reservation again?”

  I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure. Tracy was still avoiding me, and I hadn’t visited him last time I’d tripped. What if the house was gone? I didn’t know whether I was hoping Tracy would still be there, or whether I was afraid that he wouldn’t be. But if Tamara’s warning had changed the future, maybe it wouldn’t be so dangerous. On the other hand, if the future hadn’t changed yet, I needed to warn Jake about the explosives I’d seen, and find out exactly what Tamara was planning.

  I walked my friends to the door. I wanted to say something to Brett, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. It was so hard to read him sometimes.

  “Text you tomorrow,” Chrys said, giving me a hug. Then she whispered in my ear, “He’ll get over it. Try and be happy about this, it’s a good thing.”

  I was still up when Tamara came home.

  “That was amazing,” she said.

  “Yeah, it was perfect. Only, you didn’t have to call Mr. Peters out like that.”

  She grinned at me like I was crazy, but then she sombered as she read my expression.

  “Seriously?” she asked, going into the kitchen to heat up some leftovers. “He is still the bad guy, right? He’s the one responsible for everything?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I sighed. “It was just really awkward, watching the interview with Brett. Seeing his face.”

  “Look, I know you’re sweet on him, but you can’t have everything you want. I mean, if his father is going to end the world, he’s going to have to choose. And he’d be an idiot not to choose you. All you can do is wait for him to come around. But you can’t let how one guy feels about you influence the decisions you make concerning the future of the human race. Right?”

  “I know, it’s just, in the future, we were kind of together. Prom Queen and King,” I smiled bitterly at the memory. “I didn’t believe it could be real at first. Now I’m not sure if I want it to be.”

  “So you think it worked?” Tamara asked.

  “I’ll check tomorrow,” I said.

  “I’ve got to get up early and go back to the city,” Tamara said. “Phone has been ringing off the hook. It’s going to be crazy for awhile. Just let me know what’s up and what you need me to do next.”

  I climbed into bed but couldn’t fall asleep, worrying about what I’d find when I tripped tomorrow. Defiance was the last piece of civilization, and it was falling apart. Annabelle and the other girls were still kidnapped. Jake would risk his life trying to save them. And I didn’t even want to think about what Tamara was planning to do with all those explosives. I had to warn Jake about what I’d seen and heard Tamara say. If Jake even existed anymore. If any of them did.

  Chrys picked me up the next morning. We stopped for drive-through sausage mcmuffins and coffee, then headed to the reservation. Brett and Cody were already waiting for us when we got there.

  “Have you been online today?” Cody asked, handing Chrys his phone. “Tamara made the front page of all the major search engines.”

  Chrys frowned and passed the phone to me.

  Lottery winner predicts end of world.

  “Catchy headline,” I said.

  “Most of the comments are bad,” Brett said. “Calling her crazy, a scam, a hoax…”

  “I get it, thanks.”

  “Not all though. I mean, she did win the lottery twice. And the fact that she gave so much money away helps. People want to believe her. The organizations she donated to made statements. Reporters have been asking them to comment, on whether they believe the same things she does. They said, basically, they admire her zeal and enthusiasm, but all her views are her own and she doesn’t speak for them.”

  “Of course not,” I said. “She speaks for us. For me. At least people can hear her. And when the other stuff she predicted comes true, it’ll be hard to discredit her.”

  “At least she’s trending. Hashtag GreenLady.”

  “So can we do this?” Brett said. “I mean, I don’t know about all of you, but I’m anxious to see whether or not we’ve had any effect. Whether anything we do even matters.”

  I looked at him in shock and he gave me a grim smile.

  “Sorry, that sounded a lot darker than I meant it to. I didn’t sleep much.”

  I nodded. Cody lifted the rock we used last time and I reburied my backpack full of provisions—the knife, a water bottle, and a few other small items. I included the Skittles I’d bought for Annabelle, even though I probably wouldn’t have a chance to give them to her. They still reminded me of what was at stake. Brett took out the phylia and prepared it for me, tapping it down into the glass pipe. Cody tossed him a lighter and I rested on the purple blanket we’d brought with us. Brett put a second blanket around me to shield me from the chilly air. It wasn’t snowing, but I could see my breath. He held the lighter up to the pipe and waited as I inhaled a puff of smoke. He tucked me in, then looked directly at me. His gaze was full of emotion, like he wanted to say something. Like he didn’t want to let me go.

  “Be safe,” he said, squeezing my hand. “No risks. Just find out what you can and hole up until the phylia wears off.”

  I nodded and squeezed his hand, then smiled one last time as the pink waves floated around me. My friends vanished immediately. The scenery change was more subtle. Years worth of rustling leaves and growing grass. Sunrises and sunsets rotating so quickly I couldn’t tell when it was light and dark—like the flickering of a flourescent light. The imperceptible buzz of instability. When it stopped, I stood up and looked around at the empty reservation.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the dark glass cube sticking out of the foliage.

  When I reached the gate, it immediately opened for me. I stood in surprise and looked up at the house. If it was still here, did that mean we’d failed? I let out an excited squeal when the front door opened to reveal a smiling Tracy. I rushed to hug him and he nearly fell over.

  “You’re still here,” I said, both relieved and disappointed.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.

  “Because younger you is still a dipshit.”

  He laughed, then patted me on the back until he had to pry my fingers away from him. I followed him inside and shut the door.

  “I don’t understand, when I showed you the Powerball ticket, you still didn’t believe me.”

  “Oh, that…” he said nonchalantly. “Of course, I didn’t play.”

  “What?!”

  He raised both eyebrows, surprised by the rage in my voice.

  “Did you really think a kid like me would have taken that bait?” He snorted. “Not a chance.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “So how—”

  “You had to earn my trust,” he said. “Seeing those numbers on the winning ticket was the first step.”

  I suddenly wanted to hit him. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?” I said. “Instead of making me worry so much. I thought you wouldn’t be here. I thought I lost you.”

  He laughed softly. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he said. “That’s hardly an effort. If you want to get rid of me, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

  I rolled my eyes and pushed past him. I went straight to his fridge and took out a jar of peanut butter.

  “Please, help yourself,” he said sarcastically. I ignored him and searched for the Oreos. They were in one of the highest cupboards, hidden behind a bunch of other snacks. I dipped the Oreos in the peanut butter and ate them as fast as I could. When I finished, Tracy looked at me with mild disgust.

  I laughed and put away the peanut butter. I didn’t have time to sit around and relax, but I needed to fuel myself. Who knows what would happen when I got to Defiance.

  “So, how goes the crusade?” Tracy asked, as I gulped down a
glass of water.

  “In my time, Tamara just got on national news. Called out Kyle Peters by name. And she won the lottery, twice.”

  “And that didn’t work?” Tracy asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Apparently not, if you’re still here. Are there still mods out there too?”

  “As far as I know,” Tracy said.

  “So what’s next?” I asked. Tracy looked confused, then frowned.

  “This is weird. You always told me what to do. It looks like we’ve reached a place where we’re about even. But kid, I have no idea what to do in your time.”

  “Ok, let’s talk about your time. Zamonta attacked Defiance a couple days ago. And I’m worried about my sister. I think she’s planning to do something dangerous.”

  He looked thoughtful. “That sounds like Tamara.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” I said. “Tamara isn’t a dangerous person. She believes in peace and harmony and kombucha.”

  Tracy snorted. “Tamara is many things, but a peaceful and harmonious person is not one of them.”

  “But she’s the leader of Defiance. That place is a paradise. It’s practically utopian. Isn’t she responsible for it?”

  Tracy sighed. “She isn’t responsible for any of this. You are. You created Defiance and decided to put her in charge.”

  “Are you saying my sister isn’t a good person?”

  He shook his head, but paused before speaking. “I’m saying your sister is under a lot of pressure and will do any means necessary to save her people.”

  “She’s not—”

  “Listen kid,” Tracy said, his expression serious. “You need to stop comparing your life here with your life back then. It isn’t the same and it never will be. It’s a different time. A different world. Everyone is different here because the world changed them. It changed me and it changed your sister.” His expression changed to sympathy. “And it’ll change you too.”

  “That’s basically the same speech Tamara gave me,” I frowned.

  He looked out the window. “The one thing that will not change is Tamara’s hatred for Zamonta,” he said. “She will destroy that place. Make no mistake about that. No matter what it costs.”