Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet

by Kenyon T Henry

  “I’m sorry,” Stephen began before Alistair cut him short.

  “Little more than a few days ago, I would have agreed with Stephen,” he said, addressing the masses. “I would have been wrong. Stephen is worthy, but not because of his own deeds, though they are greater than any here. He is worthy because the Almighty has made it so. Stephen understands what I had forgotten, that none of us are worthy. Not one. Instead, our worth, and Stephen’s worth, is found in the One who made us, creating us to be called sons and daughters of the King Most High.”

  Alistair turned toward Stephen and threw his arms around him, patting him firmly on the back as he did. “Ye owe me no apology. It’s I who owe you.”

  Anastasia lifted the crown high, as the two men turned to face her. “The challenges have been answered. How say you?”

  The council members each gave a resounding, “Yes!”

  “Kneel, Stephen Cross of King David’s bloodline.”

  Stephen did as Anastasia commanded, and immediately the crown came to rest on his head.

  “Rise, King Stephen, our new Mighty David.”

  Stephen stood and turned toward the crowd and caught Patty’s gaze. The pride and happiness that filled the great hall was nearly too much to contain. He laughed for joy and jumped down from the platform. Each person made their way to him, presenting themselves before the new king, his queen at his side.

  ****

  The next day, Stephen wandered up top to enjoy the morning’s sunrise. There would be much for him to do over the next several weeks as he settled into being David. He had debated going somewhere else to be alone, if only for a few moments. There was no escaping the truth, that the weight on his shoulders would still be the same, regardless of the scenery.

  The morning was still dark, with only a hint of color on the horizon. Birds chirped nearby, and early drivers zoomed up and down the roads. The sidewalks had not yet gotten too busy, though he spotted a few morning joggers.

  He walked over to the tidal basin to watch the different fowl—ducks, geese, pigeons, and others he couldn’t name. He took in the cooler morning air and let it fill his lungs before sighing. What do I do now? he thought, picking up a pebble and slinging it. It danced across the water before embedding itself into the shallow bank on the other side, leaving ripples as evidence of its path.

  “What seems to be troubling ye?”

  Bending over, Stephen picked up more pebbles and handed a couple to Alistair as the Scotsman stopped next to him. Both men slung a rock across the pond, only Alistair’s fell about halfway.

  “There’s a lot to do. I don’t know where to start. There’s so much about this world that I still don’t know. You and the others were raised in this. I’ve barely dipped my toe in it. I’m not sure I’m enough.”

  “Aye, you’re not. No one person is,” Alistair replied. “Where do ye feel like starting?”

  “The council needs to be made whole. I thought about asking you to take your father’s seat.”

  Alistair turned his head just slightly, grinning at Stephen before he focused back on getting a pebble across the water. “I’m honored.”

  “But you won’t accept, will you?”

  “No. I have some personal things I need to work out. It’ll take some time.”

  “I understand. And I agree with your suggestion.”

  “What sug—” Alistair stopped and turned toward Stephen with a look of disapproval. “Ye were listening to me thoughts?”

  Stephen held both hands up in surrender. “Only because I’m concerned about you. You’re depressed. I can feel it rolling off you. But I can also see that you’ll be fine. It won’t happen again.” This seemed to settle his friend. “Still, I think Zander’s a good choice. It might help to unify Enclave and Outpost. There’s still some uncertainty there.”

  “That’ll take some work too,” Alistair added. “What about the other chairs?”

  “I was thinking about Edge and Max.”

  “Edge is a great choice. But you don’t think Max is a bit young?”

  “I believe,” Vincent added from behind, “that Max will add a youthful and unique point of view to the council that is very much needed to help it move forward and continue to understand today’s environment.”

  Alistair sighed. “I should’ve known ye’d show up soon, mukker.” He turned to face them both before continuing. “What next?”

  Stephen grinned as he shrugged and admitted, “I haven’t gotten that far yet. I’m guessing I won’t have time to get much further before something presents itself.”

  ****

  Stephen, Patty and Colvin helped Edge pack items in boxes in the main living area of the David’s quarters. It looked strange to Stephen, seeing most of the walls bare. All the pictures of Edge and Pastor Buchanan were already packed, except for one which Edge had given to Stephen, saying he was part of their family. Stephen felt the same. It was a nice gesture.

  Looking around the room, the many doors stood out—more than usual. The few times Stephen had been there, he had wondered about them. Somehow, it had never seemed appropriate to ask.

  “You know,” Stephen said, “I’ve been meaning to ask about all the doors. Are these all bedrooms?”

  Edge and Colvin both turned toward Stephen with quizzical looks.

  “You don’t know?” Edge asked.

  “Know what?” Stephen replied, before shrugging to Patty, who was now paying attention also.

  She shook her head, indicating that she didn’t know either.

  “These doors,” Colvin said, “are doors to the rest of Enclave.”

  “What do you mean by ‘the rest’?”

  Colvin pointed to the door closest to him. “I mean this door here leads to the European branch. This door”—he pointed to the next—“leads to Asia, and so on.”

  “But there are more doors than branches,” Patty said before Stephen had a chance to.

  “Yes, there are,” Colvin replied.

  Edge laughed. “Sorry, guys. I sometimes forget you’ve barely been with us a year. You’re so much like family now, I forget you still don’t know everything you need to know.”

  “Like what?” Stephen asked.

  “Well . . .” Edge continued stuffing pillows into a box as he thought out loud. “You’ll have to learn about operations at other places. Each has elders you’ll want to get to know. We also influence politics at times. You’ll learn more about that later today.” Edge’s eyes lit up as he said, “There’s more history, of course.”

  Patty smiled at hearing that. Study and research seemed to be where she enjoyed contributing most. Stephen knew she was anxious to get back into the massive library. And now he would make certain she had access to even the restricted section.

  “What do we do when we aren’t fighting Fallen?” Patty asked.

  “There’s plenty to do,” Colvin answered. “There are other groups, actual descendants of fallen angels. They aren’t angels or humans, but half-breeds. They mostly try to stay out of sight, having almost been wiped from existence. The great Flood did away with the original generation. But over the years, their DNA, or whatever angels have, has cropped back up into a new kind of creature. You’ll need to learn about them. We come across them from time to time.”

  “Wait! What?” This was the first Stephen had heard of this and felt like he needed to know more. “Are they people? What do they look like?”

  “You know giants were descended from Rephaim, right?” Colvin asked.

  Stephen nodded, noticing Patty had stopped packing, but listened intently.

  “It’s like that. They’re human, but different. Giants are basically gone. The gene is still there, but so diluted that we don’t end up with towering figures like in King David’s days. But there are other kinds. Don’t worry. I’ll help you. We all will. As David, we’ll make sure you know what you need to know.”

  “That sounds like it’ll take years,” Stephen said.

  “Maybe,” Colv
in said.

  “And there’s so much rebuilding to do. Trying to merge Enclave and Outcasts won’t be easy. It’ll take a long time to completely build that trust.”

  “You’re right,” Edge said. “There may be more to do as David at this point in history than ever before.”

  Patty winked at Stephen. “Yeah, sounds like there should be two of you.”

  Stephen beamed. She had set up the perfect segue to broach the topic he had called Colvin in to discuss to begin with. “That’s a great idea.” He placed his hand on top of Colvin’s shoulder. “It’s why I asked you to come. I can’t do this. I can’t be the David. Not now. I’m not the right person. I don’t know the inner workings. Like you said, I can learn. And I will learn. Until then, I need you to be the David and be what Enclave and the council need. I’m king. That won’t change. You, however, will be second only to me and will act on my behalf.”

  Colvin stood wide-eyed and silent, looking to each of the others as they all smiled and watched him, waiting for an answer.

  “But you are—”

  Stephen didn’t let him finish. “I’ll continue to work from Outpost along with Outcasts. Zander and Max will also. However, as council members, they can help to slowly bridge the gap and build trust between the two to find common ground and help define what full integration will look like in the future, if that’s even possible. Other elders from both sides will assist in the cause. People respect me because I was born to be king. That’s not enough.”

  “No, Stephen.” Colvin shook his head. “They respect you because of who and what you are—bold, courageous, loving, loyal, and compassionate.”

  “Maybe, but you’ve earned their respect—both sides—in ways I haven’t yet. I need you to do this for me, and for Mighty. Will you serve as the David?”

  Colvin ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, staring at the floor in deep contemplation. Tempted to listen in, Stephen fought the urge, waiting with the others for an answer. He watched his former teacher, who seemed to be temporarily stuck in some type of mental loop. After a few moments, Colvin lifted his head with a stoic smile that indicated an acceptance of duty more than for his own pleasure. “For my king, I will.”

  “Good,” Stephen said. “I’ll inform the council of my decision and your acceptance. You can stand in for me tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Colvin asked.

  Stephen smiled. “There’s a meeting with the president of the United States. I’m certain you’ll do much better than I would have.”

  “Wait!” Colvin said with a stern tone. “How can you learn if you aren’t there too?”

  Before Stephen could reply, Edge said, “It would be good for you to see more of the inner workings of Enclave. You’ll need to get used to the politics.”

  Again, Stephen wanted to object, but was cut off by his own wife. “You know, Stephen doesn’t have to dive right in to something this large, does he?”

  Stephen smiled. He knew he could depend on Patty to help him out.

  Patty added, “Besides, I was hoping to go over remodeling plans for our apartment.”

  “Remodel?” Stephen asked. “We aren’t remodeling.”

  Patty ignored his comment. “I’d like to go ahead and add a nursery. The studio is a large open space. Eventually, we’ll need a separate place for kids.”

  Kids? “On second thought, I’ve always thought the President would be an interesting individual to meet.”

  Chapter 26

  Bernie made his way through the decrepit building. Boards creaked with each step. Lights flickered ahead. He passed an open door. Fallen inside the adjacent room took notice as he walked down the hall of the abandoned hospital. They stepped into the hall behind him. He was certain he heard them mutter his name.

  Bernie had had years to seep into their subconscious. And now that Gregor was no longer in control, each pawn was more than willing to do his bidding. He was pleased with himself.

  He had told Gregor that Stephen should not be taken lightly. Over the years, he had heard tales of Oracle. Using this knowledge, he had been able to recover a small part of Waltz’s memory that his old friend had tried to hide. Bernie had seen enough to know that Stephen could win—would win. He had counted on it, knowing that Gregor’s pride would be his own downfall.

  As he continued through the hall, more and more spilled out into the open corridor. This was the point where Bernie had told everyone to meet back. This was the place he would assume control. His time had finally come, just as he had always known it would. And with that wretched woman gone, there would be no one to challenge him. Who would dare? So what if someone did? Bernie would dispel anyone who stood in his way. There wasn’t a Fallen’s mind that he hadn’t planted his evil subconscious seed deep within. He didn’t like to gloat. He loved it. He smiled as bodies continued to follow him, like mice following the piper.

  Turning into what once had been the cafeteria, he saw several more standing around, seeming startled by his appearance. They too, like drones, took their places among the others who filed in after him and filled the room in a chaotic formation. Though he was proud of himself, he detested his followers—little more than mindless zombies. No. He had seen zombies in his day. These people were nothing like them, except that he was disgusted by them.

  Looking across the pond of bodies, he sneered. There were less than he had hoped for, though it was a start. The eyes staring back at him looked dead and hopeless. Good. There would be no one within the group to challenge him.

  A younger man named Thomas approached. “What now?”

  Bernie stared down at him, having barely noticed him before. He had a strong jaw and shaggy black hair. His white skin seemed to catch whatever light found its way to him and reflected it. He was stout—fit. Bernie could see good muscle tone through the tattered, battle-worn shirt. Around his waist, he carried numerous daggers, each uniform and appearing more like gripless spikes than daggers. The man seemed stronger of mind, not so much like the others. Not a zombie, he thought.

  Zombie. The idea clung to his thoughts like a lion to the haunch of a gazelle. He looked back out at the remnant of the once sizeable army. More were out there. Still, he knew that even if the others were added to this number, it would not be enough for Fallen to defeat Mighty.

  “Hmm . . .” He rubbed his chin absentmindedly as he considered another option before turning his attention back to Thomas. “Do you know why we are called Fallen?” Bernie asked.

  Thomas shrugged. Like most Fallen, the acceptance that they had taken up the plight of fallen angels had long since been forgotten, a refusal to accept the choice they’d made. Only an elite few had made the choice willingly, and so remembered why they were called Fallen.

  Then the boy muttered, “We’re named after the fallen sons of God—a third of Heaven’s hosts that fell from grace and were cast out.”

  Bernie smiled. “You chose to leave Mighty on your own will. I can use you to help build an army again.”

  “How?” Thomas asked.

  “We may be called Fallen, but there are others who that name actually belongs to. Just as we are all descendants of David’s mighty men, these others are descendants of our masters.”

  Thomas’s eye grew wide. “You mean Abominations?” Where Bernie had seen defeat, he now saw a glint of sinister evil in the man’s face as he pondered the idea. “I think I know where we can start. It’s been a couple years, but I’m positive I came across one not long ago.” He nodded to the others. “They all called me crazy. Maybe I am. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t right.” He grinned as the evil spread from his face into his eyes, as the excitement began to show.

  Bernie liked what he saw. Someone competent and completely loyal to him. Still, he made a mental note to watch his young second closely. “It’ll take some time, but we’ll build an army stronger than the last. I’ll accomplish what Gregor never could.”

  Bernie laughed, proud of himself and what he would accomplish. Silent
and definitive would be his judgment of Mighty. He’d stay hidden until his army was bigger and better than any Fallen had ever amassed.

  ****

  Thomas looked across the room at all his Fallen brothers and sisters. Bernie didn’t care about them. They were pawns to the man—drones to use as the self-proclaimed leader saw fit. How much longer would he and the others have to endure following the whims of someone that didn’t truly care about their cause?

  Gregor had been after revenge, dragging out the battle of the previous generation. He had already failed once and forced this generation to suffer great losses as he lost again.

  Bernie would be no different. No. It was time for Fallen to get back to chaos, to anarchy. Personal vendettas had nothing to do with Fallen’s rise to power. If Gregor or even Bernie understood this, they’d fight a different battle. In doing so, vengeance would have ultimately belonged to Fallen. Vengeance for being forced to hide in the shadows. Vengeance for the hundreds of years of humiliation endured at the hands of Mighty. Vengeance against a God who played favorites. It was time for Fallen to be different, to destroy what the Almighty loved.

  “Thomas,” Bernie said, “I want you to inspect our troops. Tell me what you make of them.”

  “Weak,” Thomas said. “They’re all weak.”

  “I agree,” Bernie said. “Take a closer look at them. Can we make them better—stronger?”

  Thomas walked parallel to the first row of Fallen. Each person was worn from battle. Half of them didn’t have weapons worth using. Most were injured in some way. “Not as long as they aren’t free to be themselves,” Thomas said.

  “They are Fallen. That’s all that matters,” Bernie replied.

  Thomas stood before Bernie. “As long as you control their minds, Mighty will win. Stephen knows you. He doesn’t have to beat all of Fallen when his only true adversary is you. Release their minds and—in time—we will have our victory.”

  Thomas should have seen it coming. But, he didn’t. Bernie was no warrior and no longer part of a triune. Still, he was a large, powerful man. Bernie struck him hard, sending him to a knee.