Afterworld (The Orion Rezner Chronicles Book 1)

by Ploof, Michael James

  He grabbed a bottle of water and came to lean on the counter. “Like an underground railroad or something?”

  “I guess. C’mon, let’s find out.”

  “Gimme a minute.” He guzzled his water and shuffled to the bedroom.

  We arrived at Trinity at four o’clock, Mushiro having taken his sweet time getting his crap together. The fight at the museum had shaken him up, and he took enough magical gear with him for a small battle. We went in through the front door and down the aisle. I figured Killroy would be in his private study with Maximillian, but the father waited just beyond the altar.

  “This way,” he said.

  He took us back into the sacristy and through a hidden door I’d never known about before. We followed him down a flight of stairs and through a long hall. Finally, he turned right, into a brightly lit room. Maximillian sat at a wide, round, ornately carved table, along with Elder Wizard Crowly, who offered me the usual scowl.

  A witch sat at the table as well. My eyes were instantly drawn to her flowing scarlet robes, which were embroidered with golden runes along the edges. She wore an old-school witch’s hat that drooped to the right. It too was scarlet with golden runes. Silver hair flowed out from beneath it and over her shoulders. Her intense, gray-blue eyes held mine before gliding to meet Mushi’s and then Dude’s. She looked in her fifties, but like wizards, a witch’s age could not be determined by appearance. A handsome woman with a steely demeanor and a warm smile, I liked her immediately—and wondered if she had influenced my feelings. You never can really trust yourself around a witch. Someone like the flirty Ezmerelda could have a man eating out of a dog bowl if he weren’t careful, which is partially why I avoided her.

  “Orion, Johnny, this is Elder Witch Valentine Solomon,” said Father Killroy.

  We both extended a hand across the table and shook hers.

  Killroy offered us a seat and shut the door. Dude decided to forego my lap and sat to my left, with all seriousness. I had a million questions but held my tongue. Luckily, Maximillian got right down to it.

  “We have been watching you both for some time now—”

  Dude gave a screech, and Maximillian corrected himself.

  “All three of you.”

  Dude smiled.

  “The mission to Crystal Lake was a test,” he said. “You passed.”

  I stared, dumbfounded. “What do you mean, a test?” I turned to Father Killroy. “What about the children we left behind?”

  “Kronos cast a concealment spell on the church before the group fled. Boston Militia chased them away, and he doubled back to secure the location,” he told us.

  Kronos? I was in shock.

  “That was all for show?” asked Mushi.

  “We had to know how far you would go,” said Maximillian.

  Johnny considered this and then asked, “How the hell did he get back here so fast?”

  “He has his ways,” Maximillian replied.

  “Kronos,” I said, still in shock. “Kronos is part of this group…which helps the children of the Cain?”

  “Indeed. He is one of the founders—he and Father Killroy.”

  “Why did he knock me out with a spell if he intended to help the children anyway?”

  “He doesn’t like you.” Maximillian was slightly amused. “And he needed to save face in front of the others.”

  I tried to take in what I was hearing.

  Mushi continued. “What about Anderson? Macklebee? Lopez?”

  Father Killroy made the sign of the cross. “They weren’t part of our group, though they were fine soldiers, one and all. Just a bit too good at following orders.”

  The father looked to the ground and Mushi turned to Maximillian. “So what’s the name of your group?”

  “We have no name.”

  “Cool,” said Johnny. “The No Name Group.”

  High Priestess Valentine leaned forward. “You must never speak of the group or its operations, nor will you write down anything about us or our activities.”

  I had finally collected myself and joined the conversation. “Fine, count me in,” I said. “How many others are there?”

  “There are many,” said Crowly. He had the rough voice of a lifetime alcoholic. “For now you need only know those you see here.”

  A thought occurred to me. “Eldermaster, what of my sister…any news?”

  “I am sorry, son. No, we have not located her. But we still may—we are finding more and more of the children every week,” he said.

  I turned to Killroy. “I’m sorry for my words earlier, Father…I didn’t know.”

  He nodded. “It is understandable, Orion. All is forgotten.”

  I offered him a nod of respect, still feeling bad for the things I’d said.

  “I couldn’t tell you anything unless the group decided to bring you in,” he explained.

  I was still a little confused. “Kronos couldn’t have agreed with the decision.”

  “Oh, on the contrary,” said Maximillian, “what you did at Crystal Lake convinced him of your…integrity.”

  I felt like I was in a waking dream. Kronos had voted to include me in the group. Maximillian and Killroy knew about Azazel being after me, and I had to assume that the rest of them did as well. If Azazel was trying to round up the children of the Cain, why would Maximillian and the others include me in a group which was secretly hiding the children? Wouldn’t I be leading Azazel and his Cain army right to them?

  Ah hah!

  I turned a suspicious eye on Maximillian.

  “You’re using me as bait.”

  The elder wizard glanced at Killroy. “We were getting to that.”

  Sure you were.

  I was annoyed. “You had no intentions of recruiting me or Mushiro before Azazel’s attempt to possess me. And Kronos would need a damn good reason to allow me into the group—the old prick hates my guts. Those assassins weren’t after you last night, were they Maximillian? They were after me.”

  The elder wizard said nothing.

  “You’re hiding the children of the Cain, and Azazel is after them for some reason. You must assume that he has already taken many of them. You want me to…what? Lead you to his hideout so the Boston Militia can destroy it?”

  “I smell a rat,” said Mushi.

  “Amen, brother.”

  Maximillian regarded me with calm patience. If my accusations had been on the mark, he gave no indication—none of them did. The tension in the room was palpable.

  “Do you think I’m stupid?” I asked them all finally. “Including me in such a group would seriously jeopardize the mission.”

  Father Killroy regarded Maximillian with a wry look. “I told you he would figure it out before we got the plan off the ground.”

  I stood abruptly and turned for the door. “Mushi, Dude, let’s go.”

  They stood to leave.

  “Wait!” Father Killroy urged.

  “Why! So you four can blow more smoke up our asses? I don’t have time for this shit!” I said, and walked out the door.

  “Do you want to help save the children?” Maxmillian asked.

  I froze.

  “Our deception was not intended for you,” he continued, “but for the demon. This is too important an issue for your feelings to get in the way. Please, have a seat.”

  The elder master’s words carried with them the influence of his power. I felt an overwhelming need to comply. Dude couldn’t resist and sat back down immediately. Mushi fought the urge, as I did, and we shared a questioning glance.

  “What do you think?” I asked him.

  He didn’t hesitate. “They want disposable heroes.”

  He was right, but I couldn’t turn my back on an opportunity to possibly find my sister. I was willing to be bait. However, I didn’t expect Mushi to risk himself following me on a suicide mission.

  “You should go, Mushi. You don’t need to risk—”

  “You stay, I stay,” he said with a finality that would n
ot be argued.

  I walked back in the room and we sat down.

  “Where do we go from here?” I asked.

  They drilled me on what had happened since Azazel’s attempted possession. Valentine wanted detailed descriptions of my dreams, and Crowly was interested in how the demon’s influence had affected my state of mind and, if at all, my will.

  “What about Azazel’s intention to lower the spell shield?” I asked.

  “Highly unlikely,” said Crowly, but he did not elaborate.

  “And my suggestion to Father Killroy to create a spell which might detect demonic influence?”

  The father nodded. “Such a spell already exists.” He glanced at Valentine Solomon.

  I was suddenly filled with trepidation. “Am I under Azazel’s influence right now?”

  “No, but his connection to you will only grow stronger,” she said.

  “Through my dreams?”

  She nodded affirmatively.

  “I have a potion which will keep me from sleeping,” I told her, “that should give us some time.”

  Witch Solomon arched an eyebrow. “That won’t be necessary.”

  I was confused. “What do you mean?”

  “We need to locate Azazel. If we find him, we find the children. You will stop taking the potion.”

  “You want Rezner to allow himself to become possessed?” Mushi asked.

  “Not quite possessed…influenced,” she replied. “If Azazel’s connection to him becomes strong enough, I will be able to pinpoint his location.”

  “Then you send in the cavalry?” I asked.

  “Something of that nature,” said Maximillian.

  I wasn’t convinced. “He had dozens of Cain with him when he attacked us on the road. He must have an army at his disposal.”

  “Let us worry about what happens after we find him,” said Solomon. “You concentrate on resisting his influence as long as you can.”

  I nodded in understanding. “You don’t want to divulge too much to me in case he can read my mind.”

  “He will…eventually,” she said.

  “What about the witches and wizards who attacked last night? Can’t you determine his whereabouts through their connection?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” said Solomon. “They’ve all passed.”

  “They’re dead?”

  The elder witch nodded grimly. “Shortly after they were captured by Boston Militia.”

  “Seems like an incompetent plan if you ask me. Azazel sends his minions after me, they fail in their mission, and he kills them off. What did he really accomplish?”

  “It was a psychological attack,” said Killroy. “Exposing his influence will only foster paranoia and distrust throughout our ranks, which will weaken us. This is the way of demons—they prefer mind games to warfare. They destroy from within.”

  I thought of the burning city from my dream.

  “So what is the plan? What do you need me to do?”

  “We need you to sleep,” said Valentine. “We need you to dream.”

  Chapter 18

  Dream Weaver

  I laid down on the long leather sofa in Killroy’s study. Elder Witch Solomon countered Melody’s potion and I instantly felt the effects of my long day. My eyes became heavy and itchy, and my body ached everywhere.

  “When he comes to you in your dreams, try to engage him for as long as you can,” she instructed.

  I mumbled an incoherent reply before nodding off to demon dreamland. The elder witch’s voice became distant and muffled as I drifted farther into the realm of sleep.

  I snapped back awake in Killroy’s study and looked around quickly. I was alone. I didn’t remember what I had been dreaming about, or if Azazel had contacted me.

  “Hey!” I yelled. No one answered.

  I stood and walked to the doorway. “Elder Witch Solomon…Mushi…Father Killroy?”

  Dude shrieked from somewhere in the church—it was a cry of pain.

  “Dude!” I ran down the hall and came out at the altar. The door at the back of the church slammed closed, and Dude’s faint cry called from outside. I ran to the doors and flung them open—and froze.

  Boston was in ruins. Fires burned and buildings crumbled. People ran screaming and crying for help as they were chased by all manner of nightmarish creatures.

  I’m dreaming…

  “This is how it always ends,” Azazel said, with a sigh. He was suddenly standing at my side.

  I tried not to jump.

  “You sound disappointed,” I noted, trying to remain calm.

  “Oh, but I am. I have watched your kind destroy themselves for millennia. Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, pride…they all find their way into the hearts of the people eventually.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to have been the one who introduced such things to the world?”

  “I am.” He watched the pyre grow.

  “Then why do you act as though you care?”

  Azazel gave a sigh.

  It was then I noticed he no longer appeared as the Cain man he had possessed. Rather, he appeared as a well featured man in his early forties. He held himself with a dignified air, one of high nobility. His eyes hinted at infinite wisdom, and the lines upon his brow were etched with worry. As powerful as he was, he seemed…tired.

  “When Father made your kind,” he said, “he declared you his most prized creations. Yet you were flawed. All of heaven rejoiced in his masterwork, but I saw the error of his ways. I argued that man could not be deemed truly righteous unless he knew what sin was, yet still rejected it. He made you too pure, without giving you the choice between good or evil. In the beginning, your kind were merely puppets, hollow creations that had never been tested.”

  “So you tested us?”

  “Yes, but not out of spite like some of my brothers. I felt no jealousy toward your kind, but I introduced sin to the world of man so that Father might learn the truth. I had no idea that you would embrace violence and depravity with such a zealous appetite. I have been testing humanity since the beginning, and you continue to fail miserably.”

  I stared at the destruction before me, knowing it was a dream, but also that it was possible, likely probable. This had been the fate of all the cities upon earth—fire, destruction, chaos.

  “What is the point in all of this? Haven’t you proved yourself by now?” I was truly curious, but I had also remembered to keep him talking for as long as possible.

  “Proven myself?” he scoffed. “I prove myself to Father every time I push his flawed creations closer to perfection. I would see humanity rise above the deadly sins and prove itself worthy of His everlasting love and forgiveness.”

  Beside Trinity Church, the Temple of Light began to crumble.

  “This is inevitable,” he said. “You cannot help them.”

  I turned to Azazel and met his immortal gaze. The world around us disappeared and a moonlit parking lot replaced it. He stood beside me grinning. Tall fences dominated the immediate landscape. A watchtower hovered overhead, and to the left sat a large prison complex. Through the chain-link fence, I read the words: Stoney Field Correctional Facility.

  “Come to me…” Azazel beckoned with an extended hand.

  My sister Mary stood beside him, looking terrified.

  I shot upright on the sofa and took in a greedy breath of air. I was trembling and covered in cold sweat. The sounds of the dying and the collapse of the city echoed in my mind.

  “It’s all right, Orion. It was a dream—you’re safe now,” said Elder Witch Solomon.

  I sat on the edge of the sofa and tried to find my bearings.

  “Did it work?” I asked.

  The elder witch shook her head in dismay. “No, I’m sorry. I need more time.”

  I stood up. “How long was I out?”

  “Settle down now. You just had your dreams invaded by a demon. You can’t just get up and start walking around.”

  “Look, I feel fine—”

/>   “You were out for five minutes,” she said, gently pushing me back down. “Now get some rest. I’ll help you to a dreamless sleep.”

  Five minutes and I’d dreamt that quickly…and that much? My body must’ve been more tired than I thought. Still, I couldn’t sleep now. I knew where they were keeping the children. I tried to object to her coaxing me back to sleep, but my arms weren’t working right.

  She’s using a sleeping spell!

  “No, stlop.” I felt drunk.

  “Quiet now. You must get the rest you need…there you go—close those tired eyes.”

  My vision began to blur, but I noticed Father Killroy entering the room.

  “Facka Kilry…du wish…ib makim…me seep.” I sounded like Jabba the Hutt on Quaaludes. All went black as I fell into the warm embrace of sweet oblivion, Valentine Solomon’s voice echoing through the ether.

  “He was dreaming. He mentioned Stoney Field Correctional Facility,” I heard her tell Killroy.

  I woke to Melody’s sweet voice. Opening my heavy eyes, I saw her smiling down on me.

  Now this is my kind of dream!

  “Hey, pretty lady,” I said, giving her my best stud-muffin smirk.

  “He’s awake!” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “Gimme some sugar, little honey bee.”

  I pulled her down to me, and her eyes shot wide open as I smothered her mouth with hot tongue. She pushed me down and slapped me across the face.

  “Yeah, baby! Rezner likes it dirty!”

  She scoffed and wiped her mouth as she got up, and Johnny Mushiro’s grinning mug replaced hers.

  I was suddenly horrified. “I’m not dreaming?”

  Mushi laughed. “No, bro. Jesus Christ Superstar, man—you had us worried.”

  Melody leaned against the door and regarded me with a yeah, you’re a dumbass expression.

  “Sooo…that really just happened?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, apparently you dream about being Pepe Le Pew.”

  I tried to forget about what had just happened and started inquiring. “What’s going on? Where is everybody?”

  Johnny sat down next to me. “Long gone, ding dong. You told the elder witch where the children of the Cain are being held, and they took off.”