The Next God

by MB Mooney

  And as he thought of it, as he thought of that moment, one concept held his mind in thrall.

  No one will ever feel that way about me.

  The door opened, shedding just the slightest bit of light onto a dark room. He and Vikki both peered up at the two individuals who stepped through the door. Matt noticed Agent Lawrence, from the FBI, but did not know the blond. They had obviously roused her from sleep for this, her hair in shambles. She wore wrinkled clothes.

  -----

  She paused in shock as she looked over him.

  My God, Valerie thought, he can’t be more than thirteen or fourteen years old.

  He sat next to the hospital bed, or as close as he could get given the machines that were attached to the young man in it. The girl, a beautiful blond, barely acknowledged Valerie as Agent Lawrence closed the door behind her. She watched Matthew Walker, though, with his dark, short hair and big, brown eyes. He seemed too young to tie his shoes, much less kill a man.

  Much less kill the Postman.

  Or Brian Stuart, the papers would have the name by now, she was sure of it. Had they paid enough to get the names of the people in this room?

  Matthew seemed bright and alert, much more so than she, and Valerie approached him, knowing Agent Lawrence still stood at the door. “Matthew?” she said.

  He regarded her flatly, as if he didn’t much care who she was, but she told him anyway.

  “My name is --”

  “Valerie Mann. You’re a detective.”

  She kneeled down beside him. He looked away. “How did you know my name?”

  He shrugged.

  “Okay,” she said, and she shot a wondering glance over at Agent Lawrence, who just nodded. She turned her attention back to Matthew. “Matthew, I’d like to talk to you for a minute, to the both of you, if I could.”

  “No,” Matthew snapped, and he glanced up at Valerie. “Talk to me. Not to her. It has nothing to do with her.”

  “Okay, fine, sure, whatever.” She put her hand on his arm the sleeve of his sweater. He pulled his arm away, clutching it next to him.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked, trying to meet his gaze. He wouldn’t let her, shaking his head. “Do you wanna go into another room, so we can talk?”

  He rose to his feet. She rose with him. Agent Lawrence led them into the hall and down to another room, an empty room. Valerie reached around herself to turn on the lights. “Please, no,” Matthew said. “There’s enough light in here.”

  “Okay,” she said, turning to Agent Lawrence. “Can we be alone?”

  He nodded. “I’ll be right outside the door,” he said, as if his presence there would comfort them. And she had to admit, maybe it did. He left, closing the door behind him.

  The only light for the room came from the large window on the far side. The kid sat on the empty bed, the bare mattress creaking slightly beneath him. His head was down, his hands together between his knees. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Matthew,” she said.

  Matthew shrugged again.

  “So ... tell me. Why you? Why did he go after you?”

  “Because I’m different.”

  “Different? Different how?”

  “I just am.”

  Valerie grinned at him. “I’m not too old to remember what it was like to be your age. Everybody feels ... different.”

  He sighed and pursed his lips. Valerie thought that she would cry if he sighed like that again. “You won’t understand.”

  “I think I do,” she said. “But we’ll get back to that. Let’s start at the beginning.”

  Matt smiled sarcastically at her. “The beginning?”

  “No, no, I mean the beginning of the night. When did you first see the ... I mean, Brian Stuart?”

  “I saw him first when we drove up to Richard’s apartment.”

  “And what did you see there?”

  “He was about to kill Richard.”

  “And what were you doing at Richard’s apartment?”

  “I was there to stop him.”

  She shook her head quickly, closing her eyes. “W-w-wait. Excuse me, what was that again?”

  “I was there to stop him.”

  “To stop Brian Stuart? A serial killer?”

  “Yes, to stop him from killing Richard.”

  “How ...”

  “I said you wouldn’t understand.”

  “How did you know Richard was in danger?”

  “I had a dream.”

  “A dream? What kind of dream?”

  “I don’t know, a dream. I had a dream that Richard was in danger. We went to his apartment. Mr. Stuart was there.”

  “Are you saying you’re psychic?”

  “I don’t know.” He took a deep breath.

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “So you’re at the apartment, you see Mr. Stuart, what happens next?”

  “I get his attention.”

  “How?”

  “I ... challenged him.”

  “You?” She shook her head again. “My God, Matthew, do you understand how many people were looking for him? For Brian Stuart? The media even gave him a nickname, you know, like they do for some serial killers? The Postman, they gave him the name the Postman based on something I said to the papers. The Atlanta police, the GBI, the FBI, they were all looking for him, we all tried to get him. The mob probably had a high dollar reward on him after he took out the son of the head of Atlanta organized crime. He killed fourteen people last night, ten of them hired mercenaries.”

  “What about the other four?”

  “The other four? The family of Andrew Franklin, his wife and two kids.”

  His eyes met with hers. “Two kids? A boy and a girl?”

  “How did ...? Don’t tell me, another dream?”

  “Yeah.”

  She hesitated, just to collect herself, her overwhelming sense of disbelief. “So, what I’m saying is, this guy has killed more than one or two people of his own. He was on this mission of revenge of sorts. Your name never came up, not on one file, not anywhere. Do you understand? It was supposed to be over.”

  “But it’s not. It’s not over. It’ll never be over.”

  “He’s dead. You killed him. It’s over now.”

  “No. It’s only beginning.”

  “Look, this has been a long couple of days, a long week for me, too. I’ve been chasing this guy all over the place and doing all kinds of illegal things in order to do it. I know this has been a long night for you, but my ribs are hurting, and I’d really like for you to tell me what happened without talking in these riddles or saying things that are hard for me to understand.”

  “Your ribs hurt?”

  “Yeah, I got shot by some asshole the other night. Lucky for me I was wearing my vest.”

  “And you want to understand?”

  “Yes. Now tell me. Tell me what happened.”

  And he told her. He told her about the run to the school, the idea about the gas in the Chemistry lab, the explosion, the ambulance, the wreck, the death of the paramedic, his shooting of the Postman.

  She listened quietly. She hadn’t brought a pad to write this down with but she was sure she would remember this for a very long time. As he spoke of his actions, his decisions, and killing the Postman, her awe grew until she felt lightheaded, rubbing her eyes and temples as the words reached her.

  “And now I’m here, being questioned by you,” he finished, and she had a million questions, the weight of them disabling her efforts to speak.

  “But you still don’t understand,” he said, and he moved towards her. He seemed to float from the edge of the bed until he stood beside her. Reaching out with both hands, she felt the pressure on her waist, on her ribs.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, but her breath had left her.

  A severe pain rushed through her body, and she cried out.

  When she opened her eyes, the light in the room seemed a little brighter. She looked around, finally meeting Matt’s gaze. “It’s gone
,” she said, and she felt his hands slip from her waist. “The pain is gone.”

  The door to the room opened quickly, throwing the yellow light from the hall on the both of them. Valerie saw two people, a man and a woman, rush past her and embrace Matthew. She assumed they were Matt’s parents. The woman cried while holding him. What were their names again? She felt Agent Lawrence’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Detective Mann, we need to talk,” he said, and she let herself be led out of the room, away from Matthew, away from those eyes of his that made her dizzy.

  What did he do to me?

  “Detective, are you all right?”

  She spun around on her heel, almost falling over. Agent Lawrence caught her. “He ... he ...” but she couldn’t finish.

  “Detective Mann, are you okay?” Lawrence asked.

  She pushed past him back towards the room, moving the door open more. She looked around herself.

  It was empty, still dark.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  Agent Lawrence stood beside her suddenly, and he twisted back and forth in the doorway. “They’re gone,” he said. “Maybe they’re in Richard’s room.”

  She followed him down the hall, but she knew they wouldn’t be in Richard’s hospital room. She wasn’t surprised when he reached the other door, pushing it open suddenly, hearing the girl cry out, hearing Lawrence curse as he found nothing.

  “Godammit,” he said under his breath as she stood behind him, peering over his shoulder into the room where the girl stared blankly back at them both. “Where the hell did they go so fast?” He pulled a walkie-talkie out of the pocket from the inside of his coat, beginning to call for a search of the hospital, but she knew that the search would be in vain.

  They would be nowhere to be found.

  Chapter 24

  Jim and Alice sat in the front seat. Matt watched the streetlights along the highway blink past him. He set his forehead against the cold glass of the window beside him. “Tell me,” he said, just loud enough so Jim and Alice could hear. “Tell me what I am.”

  Jim brooded while his white knuckles clutched the steering wheel. The sputtering sobs from Alice reached Matt from the front seat.

  “Please,” Matt said. “Tell me.”

  After a long pause filled with the sound of Alice crying and the noise of the tires pulling on the road, the flashing lights in his eyes, and the cold glass against his head, he heard Jim speak. “They never told us, not officially,” he said.

  Matt sighed, a slow dragging sound, whispering sadness. “How can you not know?”

  “Some things were never explained to us.”

  “By whom?” Matt pressed. “Who’s behind all this?”

  Jim sighed, mimicking Matt’s own sound. “Maybe I should start at the beginning.”

  Matt silently agreed.

  “Alice and I met in college, a small conservative school in South Carolina. We both had an interest in the supernatural, the freak stuff. We hit it off and fell in love. Her mother possessed some abilities and that brought her to investigate the supernatural, while I was simply curious. I watched old TV horror movies and read comic books, but I became serious in my studies after high school.”

  “Is it true? What you told me of your mother?” Matt asked.

  Alice’s eyebrows rose. “That she died of a brain tumor before you were born, yes. She fancied herself a Seer, and she could know strange things. She thought I would develop those same abilities. But I never did.”

  After a slight pause, Matt said, “Please. Tell me more.”

  “My mother was what some would call a witch. She hid her abilities from most people, especially in the South, but she did find a group that investigated the supernatural without judgment or condemnation. They called themselves the Sage, and they helped my mother control her abilities. I was still in touch with them in college. A couple even looked after me after Mother died.”

  “Wait,” Matt said. “You mean Aunt Assandra and Aunt Emily?”

  “Yes,” Alice said. “They were what some would call witches, manipulators of magic and spirits. Then I met Jim, and as we became close, I told him about them.”

  “I was fascinated,” Jim said. “The more I learned about the Sage, the more I wanted to be a part of it. After a year or so, we joined as official members of the Sage.”

  “As what?” Matt asked.

  “As researchers, observers,” Alice said.

  Jim cleared his throat. “We had been married a year or so before they gave us a name and told us to watch this man. He was a criminal, working for the mob here in Atlanta, and he had extraordinary powers. We were only supposed to watch him. That was our assignment for seven months.”

  “What was his name?” Matt asked.

  “Samuel Doss,” Jim said.

  Matt squinted his eyes. “What type of powers did he possess?”

  “Oh, he could read minds, that much we know for sure,” Jim said. “But his power of seduction and coercion was phenomenal. He took all kinds of people into his bed, like he was experimenting or something. It wasn’t really about sex for him, I think, but power. He liked having power over another individual. He was young, twenty-five or so, and the crime family he worked for was powerful, quickly climbing the ladder.”

  “But if he could read minds,” Matt said. “How could you watch him and not get noticed?”

  “It’s not easy,” Jim said. “Over the years of working with the Sage, Assandra and Emily trained the both of us to conceal our thoughts, feelings, and so forth. The tricky part is taking on a surface identity to hide behind. On a broad scale, someone who can read minds won’t notice you. If he or she focuses on you, especially the powerful ones, then you can’t hide from them. Doss was that strong. But we kept out of his sight.

  “We watched him, and he was unaware of us. But things started to change. Women he was with started showing up dead. He was killing them, brutally. We were almost pulled from the case, but then the murders stopped. He had begun seeing a woman, one particular woman that seemed to capture his interest. We started watching her, too. The only name we could get on her was Melia. She was …”

  “Beautiful,” Alice finished. “She was the most beautiful creature you ever saw. She was mystifying.”

  “She was an angel,” Matt said.

  Jim shook his head. “Now, we don’t know that. The Sage has records of individuals who claim they are angels, but there’s no way to know for sure.”

  “Yes, you do,” Matt said. “She was an angel. And Doss loved her.”

  Jim scoffed. “I don’t know if he could love anyone. But he was obsessed with her, yes. She was a challenge.”

  “The Sage contacted us,” Alice said. “The Sage works independently, but their autonomy is limited by other organizations that give them funding. We were told to leave immediately, that this was no longer our concern. But we fell in love with Melia, too. And we wanted to protect her from Doss.”

  “Who was the other organization?”

  “A mysterious organization called the Assembly. We don’t know more than the name, but they are powerful and wealthy.”

  “So what happened with Melia?” Matt said.

  “Well, without funding, we didn’t know how we could stay,” Jim said. “But Melia came to us, right to our door. She knew about us all along and asked for our help.”

  “She was pregnant,” Alice said. “Pregnant with Doss’ child. We were caught off guard. We were bound by oaths and vows, but we broke those. We took her with us to Seattle. We were afraid Doss also knew about us, but she assured us he did not. We asked her a million questions, but she never said much. She was so sad.”

  “We kept our secret from the Sage as long as possible,” Jim said. “But eventually they found out. The Sage came to take her away to the Assembly, but we begged them to let her stay with us. She asked to stay with us. They contacted the Assembly, and the Assembly said she could stay. But on one condition.”

  Alice bit h
er lip. “They told us we had to dedicate our lives to caring for the child, protecting him from Doss. The Assembly told us others would want to hurt him, as well, so he would need a family, protectors.”

  “We said ‘yes,’ of course, ignoring the implications.” Jim sighed. “The baby came, and we were there, along with four doctors associated with the Sage. She had the baby, and within minutes, she quietly passed away. She just died. The doctors were aghast. In the room, you could feel her spirit leave. We cried for days. The only solace we had was this precious little baby boy.”

  “Me.”

  “Yes, you,” Alice said. “We kept up the ruse of a regular family and brought you up the best we knew how.”

  “And Doss?” Matt said.

  Jim shook his head. “He’s dead. The mob killed him, cut him up in little pieces and put him in a dumpster somewhere.”

  “When were you supposed to tell me this? When was I supposed to know?” Matt said.

  “Years ago,” Jim said. “But we were afraid, afraid you would hate us and leave. We thought that the truth would put you more at risk than keeping it from you. We were wrong. But please believe us, we wanted to protect you and keep you safe as best we could.”

  “But you lied to me.”

  “Yes,” Alice said. “And we’re so sorry.”

  “So what am I? Is there a name for what I am?”

  Jim took in a deep breath, exchanging glances with Alice. “They never told us, officially. But we put it together over the years.”

  “What?” he pressed.

  Jim frowned. “Matthew, you are an immortal.”

  There was a long silence in the car.

  “What does that mean? I can’t die?”

  “No, you’re not invincible, you’re an immortal. An immortal is a person that will never grow old. Your body will always be young. You’ve never been ill. And you never will be. Your body will heal from any wound unless fatal. And sometimes immortals have abilities that grow as they get older. But most do not.”

  “And that is what you call an immortal?”

  “Yes,” Jim said. “And now you need to learn what it means to be immortal. You will go to others of your kind, people who will teach you far better than we can what powers you possess and how to use them.”