“Hush,” she spat. “I saw da future. Da war of souls—billions die. But yo Aunt Mattie protected you. Made ya invisible to dem. Ah, now dey be a seein’ the truth. Dey be a wantin’ our DNA.”
Luther didn’t know what the hell to think. Was she a legit psychic or a crackpot?
“Chérie, da whole world’s done gone mad,” she rasped. “Da ancient African blood flows in yo veins.” She held up a mesmerizing piece of iridescent glass to the candlelight. It appeared to both absorb and emit vivid rainbows of light.
“Dis be what dey be a lookin’ for! It’s infused with da untainted Hu dey calls Prima Matra.”
Wondering how an exquisite piece of smelted glass could save the world had him tongue-tied. So, she really is mad.
“Stop talkin’ kaka.” Her Haitian-green eyes sparkled with laughter. “Yo friend, da silly one, waitin’ for ya.” She pointed outside. “What be his name?”
Aunt Matilda had taken him by surprise, for she knew things she shouldn’t. A coincidence or was she up to her usual skullduggery. “That’s Justin—”
She cut him off. “I tried givin’ him dis Andara.” She went into a cackling fit, slapping her hand against her thigh. “Dat boy done flew out of here like a banshee. Ah, but deep down, he know’d his son gonna die. Mebbe t’morrow. Mebbe t-day! Da new seeds be cursed.” She held the crystal-like shard of glass. “Dis, repairs the cursed DNA.”
Luther gazed into the swirly glass etchings. Vivid rays of light danced in the candlelight, but he wouldn’t let himself fall for her trickery. “Aunt Matilda, I want to believe you—”
“Believe . . .” a musical voice whispered in his ear. And it definitely wasn’t his aunt’s. The luminous letters spelling believe circled around his head like stars in a vintage cartoon after the bam of an anvil.
“I be da keeper of dis—Andara, dey calls it—for decades. Yo turn.” She handed him the glass.
“It’s just a pretty shard of glass, Aunt Mattie.”
“Boy, doncha be a lookin’ with yo eyes.” She flicked the center of his forehead with her fingers. “See with da inner sight. Dat’s where ya find truth. Earth’s magma-blood crystalizes into a magic form when it be struck by volcanic lightnin’. Oh, it be a rare event. See, da crystalline glass holds da untainted essence of da first life on Earth.” She cackled. “Only dis be a givin’ da human race a mighty upgrade!”
Like Uncle Richo used to rant, it was useless arguing with a crazy woman. Hell, Luther knew that after two nasty divorces; his exes had taken most of his pro ball income.
Aunt Mattie went into a fit of obnoxious laughter and patted his hand on the table. “Dey be from bad blood.”
She grabbed her leather bag before losing herself in a mumbling chant. She haphazardly tossed the spell bag’s contents onto the table. An odd assortment of small bones seemed to roll across the table in slow motion. He didn’t want to know what animals they were from.
“I see. Dat one had true heart. How she admired mon chérie.” She went into a long mourning wail, trembling. An actual tear dribbled down her craggy, weathered face.
The intense heartbreak he had suffered upon Sheena’s death pierced his heart. “Are you talking about—” Luther choked up. “Sheena?” He had fallen madly in love with the African steampunk warrior babe at first sight. They’d only spent a couple of nights together. The best nights of his life.
“I like her—da tough bitch with dem mischievous green eyes. Dat one was good for ya. Woulda been . . . Mon chérie, time ya be a lettin’ her go. She be at peace. With her sons. Aw, I see a love hidin’ in da veils of time. Just ask for a prenup dis time.” She went into an uncontrollable bout of laughter.
He balked internally. “Thanks, but I didn’t come here for a lowdown of my love life.” He was tempted to throw a coin into the tip jar in spite. “What the hell am I supposed to do with—this glass.”
“Infusions. Charge da Andara in da sun, den brew in a jar of water in moonlight or sunlight. Babes need to be a drinkin’ it like mother’s milk. Or da curse spiraling up der DNA be a turnin’ dem into one of dem deadbloods.” Her words seemed to torture her, coming out in a drawn-out whispering yell. “Zombification!”
“Have you actually tried it on anyone?”
She flashed him the stop-talking-smack evil eye. “On you. Dat summer ya drank it. Everyday. Ya cain’t be zombified.”
“Aunt Matilda, be straight with me. What’s happening to the world? To humanity?”
She glanced away. “I only see tings Spirit wants me to see.”
Strange, it was unlike her to admit powerlessness. “So, you’re claiming a piece of glass is a cure for the entire infected human race?” He had insulted her. He knew it. But he had to understand.
“It don’t cure just anyone—only da good souls,” she snapped back. “Oh, dey think it do. But it be short-lived. It just makes dem crave da livin’ more. Don’t let dem deadbloods and evil spirits know ya got it. If dey do—” Terror pierced through her eyes into his. “Der be no ting I can do to protect ya, boy. Dey. Will stop. At nothing!”
“To clarify, I’m the keeper of the, uh, Andara?” Luther tried keeping the skepticism out of his voice.
Aunt Matilda pressed the amethyst crystal to her forehead. “And protector of da girl child. She be someting powerful when she be growed up. Must keep her safe.” She closed her eyes and seemed to breathe in his thoughts. “Oy, but da blue-eyed one. A dark secret she be a holdin’ onto.” Her eyes sprang open. “A traitor be a hidin’ in da mist. She be one of dem! The ones dat started da zombification curse.” She eyed him questionably.
Was she talking about Scarlett? “Scarlett’s on our side. She says we’re in a battle to save humanity from the Ancient Ones who wish to obliterate or enslave mankind,” Luther explained according to his feeble understanding.
Aunt Matilda closed her eyes and swayed in a trance-like state while she communicated in what seemed like a two-way conversation. “Our bloodline was bedeviled to battle the Ancient Ones for centuries,” she recited in perfect English. “Ah, I see now. Da blue-eyed priestess changed sides. She be a fightin’ da good fight. Dis time.”
This time? What the hell does that mean? “Aunt Mattie, please help me understand. Did humans start the Super Summer flu—or is there more to it?”
She stared into the jumping candle’s flame. “It be a cosmic battle of good against evil. And da evil be a winnin’. Yo only chance—disappear in da forest with yo friends. And start over. Finding home . . . Finding home . . . Finding home . . .” she sang in an eerie melody.
“Where’s this forest?” He couldn’t deny his hope that such a place existed. Free of Zs and people in general wanting to kill them.
“Spirit don’t tells me everyting,” she snapped back. “All I know’d, it be a place hidden in da veils of time, where da new seeds of humanity can thrive in peace and enlightenment.”
A Heaven on Earth existed? “You’ve got to come with us!” Luther had a sudden image of her burned to death at the stake. He quickly deleted the thought from his mind, not wanting her to see it.
“If I go, dey find ya for sure. My final purpose–lead them on a wild goose chase. Doncha fret, done paid my fair to da boatman. Gonna go home.”
He presumed she was referring to Haiti. “Is it safe there?”
“No place safe!” She jerked her head to the side in a peculiar position and mumbled. “ ’Cept for da forest vision Spirit be a wantin’ me to see. Now ya get. Dey be a comin’. I can smell dem deadbloods. Dey be a plannin’ a massive attack. Go.”
“Wait, Twila, the girl, says she can heal the deadbloods?” He needed confirmation Twila wasn’t nuts.
“Don’t know nothin’ ’bout dat. And I don’t wanna know. I know’d enough already,” she spat. “But, she be important.”
Aunt Mattie had told him so much and yet not what he truly needed to know. Why? Why was this happening?
She snorted with disgust. “Da vendetta go back centuries. We be a pay
in’ da karma of dem greedy souls. Now, give yo favorite auntie a hug. Ya turned out to be one of da good ones, unlike yo sorry ass uncle and father. I’m gonna miss ya, mon chérie.”
He choked up by the finality in her voice, knowing it was the last time he would see her.
She parted the curtain for him, and he ducked out to the bustling street fair. The light so bright, he didn’t see Justin until he quipped, “I thought you’d never come out of there. Things are getting way weird. Let’s get outta here.”
Sparks darted through the air. Prana, he suddenly realized based on Twila’s talks. A definite change had occurred after visiting Aunt Matilda, as if he had been empowered with unlimited strength. And courage.
“So, did she read your fortune for a hundred LSCs?” Justin razzed.
“She gave me the family discount,” was all he said when a jet ripped a white gash across the sky. People started running out of the tents. “I’m not liking this.” He glanced at Justin’s flat-bed dolly of food. We need more food than that.”
“I spent my LSCs on beans, potatoes, and rice. All that’s left is the freeze-dried crap.”
“I don’t care what it is. I’m not leaving without a shitload of food. Lead the way.” They would need it, wherever they were going. With or without Zac.
They double-timed it, maneuvering the dolly through the frantic crowd. Panic swept across the faces of people clutching their purchases and clambering for the exit. Their auras turned murky red. Focusing internally, Luther managed to switch off the new ability. It was too disconcerting.
A burst of energy exploded inside him, as if scolding him. He wasn’t stupid; he headed the warning. They had to get out of there before someone had a heart attack and turned the market into an all-you-can-eat buffet.
“There,” Justin said.
They made it to the survival food tent just as an Enforcer shouted, “Mitch, shut her down!”
“What?” The tent vendor gawked. “You mean now?”
“No, five minutes ago!” The Enforcer tromped to the next tent.
Luther stared at the familiar buckets of various freeze-dried foods. Prepper Jack’s Pantry. He had lived off it before joining Dean at the Sweet Suites hotel in Vacaville. It wasn’t bad. “Have you ever had it?”
“No way,” Justin balked.
The vendor didn’t miss a beat. “By far the tastiest survivalist food on the market. Good for twenty-plus years. Got pizza in a bucket, Turkey dinner in a bucket, Mexican food, Italian . . .”
Luther had to give the guy credit; he wasn’t giving up on his last possible sale of the day. “Give us a helluva deal, and we’ll buy all we can carry on the dolly,” Luther baited.
As the vendor loaded the dolly, the universe seemed to collapse on him like the black hole image he had seen earlier, sucking him through its vortex.
Chapter 14
Justin Chen tightened his grip on the over-loaded dolly as he and Luther stood at the end of the super long line of cits waiting to exit the Zhetto Market. The market had closed without explanation. So, why weren’t they letting people leave? Despite the hot afternoon sun, he hunched under his hoodie and made sure his sunglasses hadn’t slipped down his nose, all too aware he was on Last State’s Most Wanted list of dissidents.
Luther stepped out of line and counted the number of people in front of them. “Damn, is it usually like this?”
Justin ignored him and stared at the shitty freeze-dried food Luther had panic-bought. “I can’t believe you wasted LSCs on this. We could have come back in a couple of days after they restock.”
Luther gave up counting and stepped back in line. “Bro, I don’t think we’ll be coming back here. Besides, food’s food when you’re starving.”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Says the dude who loves food more than—”
The roar of helicopters took over. “RedDead Alert?” Luther questioned with wary eyes.
Justin turned toward the helos landing in the Elites’ Only parking lot. “When they start evacuating the Elites, it’s either an Infected Incident, riot, or rebel attack.” They had to get out of there.
“I’m feeling some bad mojo.” Luther rubbed his wrist.
“Where’s your good luck charm?”
Luther shrugged. “Aunt Matilda said the juju beads weren’t the real deal.”
“What else did she say?” Justin was dying to know.
“Why aren’t they letting us out?” Luther grumbled.
It was just like Luther to clam up when something was wrong. And something was definitely wrong. The cits who had rushed the front of the line ran back and joined the growing line behind them. Jerkweeds. Justin did a double-take. “Hey, that’s DiNozzo!” Justin yelled to the thirty-something dude in nerdy Buddy Holly glasses.
Joe DiNozzo stopped. “Holy balls, Batman!” He did a quick 360 look around. “What are you doing here? Thought you,” he whispered, “and the missus escaped to the Lost States.”
Justin suddenly wished he were invisible, for he had just blown their cover. Though he trusted Joe, his “hacktivist” rebel friend from the Think Tank was deeply entrenched in the Resistance and had dedicated his life to abolishing the Elites’ oppressive dictatorship. “Having technical difficulties.” Justin smirked. “Better yet, what the heck are you doing here?”
Luther firmly placed his hands on his hips and glowered down at DiNozzo.
“He’s cool,” Justin assured.
“Things are jacked up! Special Ops busted two of our underground bunkers. Luckily, I was working remotely at the time.” The usual calm and collected DiNozzo frazzled on. “There’s no way they could have found us out. Not with the precautions we take. It’s like the Black Hats know what we’re planning next. God, I barely escaped.” DiNozzo kept looking around. “I’m supposed to meet Zippy—”
“Does this have anything to do with the market closing?” Luther interrupted.
The bags under DiNozzo’s eyes turned darker as he slowly nodded in confirmation. “I hacked into some live drone footage just before the bust. You won’t believe what’s happening. X-strains are digging a network of tunnels. I’m talking armies. Last State should warn the cits. But nooo . . .”
Justin was versed in a worst-case scenario protocol. “They’re using cits as clickbait while they get the Elites to safety.” He had witnessed it before.
“Beware.” DiNozzo head-jerked toward the guard tower. “The beta 6G facial recognition program was launched in the upper zones. The Black Hats know—the missus didn’t die in the horde attack!”
“Impossible!” Justin blurted. “I scrubbed the metadata the day she escaped the market.” With Scarlett, he omitted. Sure, he trusted DiNozzo, but why give him more info. He had heard the rumors. Cits said things under brutal interrogations.
DiNozzo kept looking around, tweaking like he’d been up all night binge-drinking Red Bulls. “I’m telling you, they know—everything!”
“Dude, chillax.” Justin scanned the agitated crowd, hoping no one recognized them. “What are you gonna do?”
“Find a tunnel in Tent City. While I can. They’re fast-tracking project CLEAN UP. Any day now. You gotta get hella out of here. They already renovated Lubbock stadium into a re-education camp.”
Justin was taken aback. “What about saving the cits and all that—”
A wicked smile took over DiNozzo’s haggard face. “I’m not done with Last State. The malicious bots I programmed should start attacking the Capitol’s central hub within the hour. While they’re busy dealing with that, the scheduled MeChat vlogs will take over. We’re exposing the Elites’ heinous acts. I’m talking full-friggin’ disclosure!” Joe wiggled his glasses from behind his ears. “And I programmed the power grid to shut down at midnight. It’ll look like Last State’s on the verge of collapse. That should radicalize the cits and get them off their see-no-evil asses. We’re taking back our God-given rights. In the name of democracy—let the riots begin!”
“Whoa, that’s intense,” Lut
her uttered under his breath.
DiNozzo had gone bonkers. “Careful, Mr. Snowden. It’s not like you can seek asylum in Russia,” Justin warned. Was the Resistance leader in over his head? Well, let Joe save Last State. All he wanted to do was save Ella, Mateo, and his friends. “Then why are you leaving—” Justin started.
“I’ll be back. If the protesters and White Hats take over the Capitol and kick out the Elites,” Joe stated firmly. “Otherwise, what’s the friggin’ point?”
The sirens went off. Holy shit! They finally used Justin’s siren warning idea.
“That can’t be good.” Luther’s tone fell flat.
The helicopters took off. “There go their beloved Elites,” Justin said snidely.
“Better scram. Catch you on the other side of Zoat.” DiNozzo took off toward the end of the line.
“See ya,” Justin called after him. I doubt it.
Luther craned above the crowd. “No signs of a horde. Bro, when you said you had a friend in the Resistance, I assumed you were exaggerating.”
“Moi, exaggerate?” Justin smirked, wondering what was about to hit the market. Probably a horde. Joe would have warned him of an impending riot or rebel attack.
He analyzed their escape options. He was ready to climb over the fence, razor wire and all. But he’d just get shot down, left dangling on the wire until someone took the time to rip him down.
Luther exhaled heavily. “Auntie Mattie, what did you get me into? Hold on a minute. The bus!”
“You know,” Justin said with an unexpected realization, “with hordes on the loose, it’s the only safe way outta Last State.”
“Yup,” Luther said. “These people will stampede the exit at the first sign of a horde. Machine guns or not. And what the hell are Black Hats?”
“Hacktivists that spam CitChat with deepfake videos to keep the cits scared and compliant.”
Luther’s blank-eyed stare revealed he didn’t really get it.
“Think of it like cyberpunk warfare. You’ve got the good guy hackers attempting to expose the injustices of the system and all that, and the bad guy hackers who get off on cyberterrorism, like spreading disinformation, rewriting history, and spyware.”
Only The Dead Don't Die | Book 4 | Finding Home Page 14