Eve of Destruction (c)
Chapter Six
By Fiction Writer #13
(nosex, sci-fi, paranormal)
"My guest today is someone whom I've had on the show many, many
times and never ceases to amaze me with her predictions." The tall
Hispanic host of the daytime talk show pauses for dramatic effect.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome... Miss... Julia... Winters!"
The video cuts to a shot of the audience roaring with applause, then
back to the side of the stage where a middle aged women walks out
smiling and waving. She's motherly in appearance, cheeks full and rosy
with blush, blonde shoulder length hair. Blue flowers dot her simple
white dress. After a moment of hand shaking with the host, she sits in
the comfy looking burgundy seat to his right, stage left to the audience.
"Julia, Julia, Ju... li... a, it's been too long since you last joined us here
on the show." The man shakes his head and looks to the audience for
confirmation of his observation. They are only too happy to supply him
with more applause. "So, since your last appearance, a lot has
happened."
"Oh yes, Manuel." Her face beams with a smile that looks as if she has
spent time in front of a mirror practicing it, over-sincere. "Last time I was
on I had just written my book, 'Looking to the Light: A Spiritual Guide to
the Future'."
Manuel interrupts her. "And tell the audience what has happened since."
"Well..." she feigns an almost shy look, as if she is embarrassed by her
good fortune, "... it's now the New York Times best seller for the last four
weeks!"
More applause from the audience as the camera cuts to capture their
reaction to Miss Julia's accomplishment. Manuel reaches behind his
chair and pulls a copy of the aforementioned book and holds it up for all
to see. He opens it to a predetermined page marked by a yellow post it
tab and begins to read once the audience settles down to a low murmur.
"In the section entitled 'Signs of Things to Come' you wrote, and I quote,
'Australia will suffer through a freak weather phenomenon... a red cloud
blankets the country for forty days and nights.' You wrote that last year,
eight months before the dust storm that ravaged the land down under."
The audience "oooohsss" and "aaahhhs". Many turn to one another and
exchange shocked glances.
"You also wrote about the second tsunami that devastated the coastal
regions of the Indian Ocean last December, two months before the
earthquake occurred."
More murmuring amongst those gathered in the television studio. Miss
Julia remains silent through it all. She sits with that fake smile, hands
folded in her lap. Manuel is very careful not to read aloud one of the
hundred other predictions Miss Julia has put to paper, none of which
have come true.
"I've got chills!" Manuel shakes as if he's freezing. "Now... I'll move to
something that you have listed later on... 'The great river, the
Mississippi, will turn to blood before the long night descends.' Should
we be worried?"
The blonde woman shakes her head. "No... No... These are signs of
something that I believe is still a long way off. The angels that speak to
me in my dreams..." she pauses to make sure that sinks in, "they tell me
that there is nothing to worry about. That in the end, good will triumph
over evil, and all will be well in the world soon."
Though she keeps the smile for her entire speech, a person trained in
the skill of detecting lies would tell you that her words are not honest
ones. The audience is not armed with such a skill, they eat up every
word exactly as it is served to them.
Manuel shakes his head. "I don't know, Julia. Rivers of blood. Long
night. It doesn't sound as if we're in for a party."
Her smile drops for just a second but she quickly regains her wall of
appearance. "I never said it would be all cake and ice cream from here
on out, Manuel. We're in for some rocky times. But if we all pull
together and put aside our petty differences, the light of heaven will
shine down and guide us through it."
More lies, her eyes blink as fast as a strobe light in a dance club as she
speaks. Once again the audience misses the clues to her dishonesty.
Some even stand up and cheer 'Hallelujah!' or 'Praise Jesus!' Even
Manuel falls for her sincerity, his hands clap hard and fast over his head
as if he's cheering on his favorite sports team to victory.
Manuel waits for his crowd to simmer down again before turning back to
his guest. "Now, I understand that you've just written a follow up to this
book. Am I right?" He knows she has, that's why she's there, to
promote it. Even before she answers, he's reaching behind his chair to
pull it out so the audience can get a look at the new cover.
"Yes Manuel," she nods as he holds up her new book. "It's entitled 'The
Angel Within' and I'm very happy about it."
Manuel holds the book still so that the camera can get a close up of the
cover. On it is a young woman kneeling in prayer; eyes closed, head
bowed, hands together palm to palm. Superimposed over her is a faint
image of her dressed as an angel; white robe, white wings, golden halo.
"Tell us what it's about."
"Well..." the fake smile is back again in full bloom, "it's a guide book of
sorts. It is designed to help everyone who wants to speak to angels and
receive their wisdom, to find that the hidden power within."
"Wow!" Manuel's eyes scan the audience and they respond with
applause. "So you're saying that anyone, not just those with psychic
powers such as you, can speak to angels?"
"Yes," she nods, "that's exactly... what..." Her face suddenly freezes in
mid sentence. Her gaze is fixed and far off.
"Julia?" Manuel's smile slowly fades. "Julia? Are you okay?"
Julia doesn't answer. She just sits there as if someone hit her pause
button, frozen in time.
"Julia?" Manuel calls to her, concerned. "Someone get a doctor!"
The audience immediately breaks out into a loud murmur. Stage hands
rush past the camera, something that would never happen unless it was
an emergency. Manuel kneels down before his guest and tries to shake
her out of whatever spell she is under.
"Someone get a doctor NOW!"
Suddenly Julia shoots to her feet, knocking Manuel to the floor with a
thud. The audience screams and crew members jump away from the
surprisingly agile women. She stands firmly in place, her face still
displaying her last expression before her affliction struck.
Her head snaps forward, her eyes stare vacantly dead ahead, her face
now slack. The once brave Manuel crawls away from her like a crab, his
face pale and his eyes never leaving Julia's unblinking stare. Her jaw
drops and her lips peel apart with a wet sound. She fills her lungs with
one deep, wheezing breath, then speaks in a low monotone voice that
does not sound like her own. It barely sounds human at all.
"We are the messengers... Hear our call... Heed our warning... The time
of darkness is upon us..."
Another deep wheezing breath fills the audio, there are no other sounds
in the studio. Everyone has fallen into stunned silence.
"The final signs shall come to pass... The Veil will be pulled aside... The
long dark is nigh... All will suffer..."
Deep gurgling breath.
"He is coming... He is coming... He is coming..." Louder and faster she
speaks. "He is coming. He is coming. He is coming."
Louder, faster.
"He is coming! He is coming! He is Coming!"
The lights in the studio dim and brighten rapidly. Still she rants faster
and faster.
"HE IS COMING! HE IS COMING! HE IS COMING!"
Lights in the studio begin bursting, showering the stage in sparks and
burning embers.
"HE IS COMING HE IS COMING HE IS COMING!"
The camera shakes wildly. Furniture topples over as does part of the
set behind her.
"HEISCOMINGHEISCOMINGHEISCOMING!"
Julia's head tips backwards, her arms rise from her sides palms up.
With one final cry...
"HE IS HERE!"
Julia collapses to the floor. The camera instantly stops shaking and the
lights, what's left of them, return to normal. For a few seconds no one
moves, they wait to see if anything else is going to happen. When they
realize that whatever has just happened is over, they rush over to see if
Julia needs help.
She wakes up easily but looks disoriented. Blood drips from her nose,
ears, and streaks out of her eyes and down her cheeks like tears.
"Wha... what happened?" she asks shakily.
No one answers her. No one has one to give.
The image of the talk show suddenly went to video black before filling
the screen with snow.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"That's everything that was recorded, Sir." The security technician turned
to face Jonathan, awaiting his next order.
Jonathan stood hunched over the monitor, still trying to process what he
had just seen. "When did this occur?"
The technician answered quickly. "At exactly thirteen hundred hours
EST, Sir. It ended twenty one seconds later. The video was time
stamped and dated today."
Jonathan looked at his watch, a simple Timex that he had purchased
close to fifteen years ago. "Ten minutes ago. Has the studio sent this to
anyone?"
"No Sir. We have the only copy." The tech swung back to his keyboard
and hammered away on the keys. "However... I managed to intercept
similar videos from three other talk shows that were recording today. All
were repeats of this same event, at the same time, only with different
psychics. None of these shows broadcast live, so I believe I've gotten all
of them."
"The originals?" Jon asked, but knew the answer before the tech even
spoke.
"Wiped. Digital and tape are gone. Camera phones and all other
personal electronics have been fried. Nothing is getting out except for
word of mouth."
"Good work." Jon patted his shoulder.
"Thank you, Sir." The tech turned back to face Jonathan. "Sir, what
should be my next move?"
"Make sure none of this hits the news. Cut phone lines and Internet
connections in the homes of all the audience members and crews."
"Yes Sir." The tech went back to work instantly.
Jonathan shook his head. Things were definitely spinning out of control
faster than they thought they would.
"Sir!" Another security tech called to him from across the large circular
room lit only by the blue green glow of computer monitors. This room
was the nerve center of Project Phoenix, the security core, and it was
buzzing with activity.
Jonathan made his way over to this new problem. None of the techs
talked to him unless something was wrong, but today it seemed that all
fifty of them needed to talk to Jonathan.
"Yes?" Jon asked with a sigh. "What is it now?"
"Sir, reports are coming in from all over the world. Today's event wasn't
isolated to the United States." The tech pointed to his monitor which
listed reports from Europe, Asia, and Australia. A quick glance told Jon
all he needed to know.
"Stop as many of them from going public as you can, get help if you
need it." He shook his head. 'Of course this wouldn't be just isolated
here, why would it be?' he thought to himself. 'This affects the whole
world, not just the U.S.'
Before he even had a moment to move away, the tech next to him
motioned for Jon to take a look at his monitor. "More reports coming in
Sir, from everywhere."
Jon watched as the list on the screen grew by leaps of twelve or more at
a time. He scanned them as quickly as he could, absorbing just how
widespread this event truly was.
Las Vegas, Nevada - Police Report #236. "... the cab driver just let go
of the wheel while driving and started yelling 'He Is Coming' over and
over again."
Cold Springs, Wyoming - 911 Emergency Call. "Send help quick! Oh
god I think he's having a stroke! {crying} Please! He won't stop saying
it!"
Deerport, Maine - Police Report #12. "... Emergency services
requested at the Deerport Stop and Go food market. A women of
approx twenty years of age has just collapsed, be advised that she has
blood coming out of her ears, eyes, and nose. Possible seizure."
Little Brook, Oregon - 911 Emergency Call. "... Yes, the School for the
Blind... Three girls, they're sisters... yes... well they all did it at the same
time so at first we thought it was a prank, but then they started
bleeding... no... they're awake now, but it's been fifteen minutes since
you said someone was coming and they still haven't... oh... okay... Well
just get them here, the other kids are scared..."
Hecksville, Tennessee - Intercepted Phone Call (civ). "... look, I just
want my cable back on, I've paid my bill on time ever since nineteen
eighty four and this one time I'm late and you shut me... We are the
messengers... Hear our call... Heed our warning... The time of darkness
is upon us... The final signs shall come to pass... The Veil will be pulled
aside... The long dark is nigh... All will suffer... He is coming... He is
coming... He is coming... "
On and on they began to pile up. There was no way to stop this from
going public, not now. In a few minutes, someone somewhere would
have video of this event. A security camera, camera phone, or some
other device had to have captured it. It was only a matter of time before
it landed on the internet, or worse, the networks.
"Has anyone been able to contact Dr. Whelan?" he called out to no one
in particular. He had been trying to get in contact with him since the
psychics in their own facility had suddenly started shouting out the
coming of the Dark one. So far no one had been able to find him. He
was notorious for not keeping his pager on. "Come on, people, he's in
this facility. We're on lock down for Christ's sake. You can't locate him
anywhere?"
"Sir!" another tech called from the opposite side of the round room. "Got
him. He's just left his quarters with Dr. Reed."
"Can you reach Dr. Reed?"
"No Sir, his com is off as well." The tech turned to face Jonathan.
"Should I have security stop them?"
"No, I need to tell him in person. Where are they headed?" Jon sprinted
over to him, avoiding the elevator column that rose up through the center
of the room. It was the only entrance or exit to the security core, and
only the security techs and Jonathan had access to it.
"Looks like..." the tech pulled up a map of the facility with two blinking
red lights representing Malcolm and Allen as they walked side by side,
"... they are heading to the containment area."
"Alright." Jon turned and addressed all of the men and women working
in the room. "I'm going to inform him of what's happened. Alert me
immediately if something else goes down. Got it?"
The entire room answered as one, "Yes Sir."
Jon moved to the elevator and swiped his security card. Instantly the
door slid to the side and white light poured into the dark room.
"And keep this out of the fucking news!" he called out just before the
door slid closed with him inside.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The door to his quarters slid open as soon as she approached, it was
never locked.
"Dr. Paul?" she called out as she entered. "Are you here?"
The room had no furniture to speak of, save for one low table in its
center. The walls and ceiling were adorned with long curtains of flimsy
fabric, each one representative of a sunset over a tropical ocean. The
slightest breeze set them moving in slow ripples and waves.
The entire floor was carpeted with a thick, deep pile, its colors matching
those of the drapery. Pillows of all shapes, sizes, and colors dotted the
tranquil landscape. The corners of the room were filled with flowering
plants, their leaves green and lush, their flowers open and in every color
of the spectrum.
The entire space looked comfortable and inviting. Even the air in the
room smelt sweet and fresh. Eve loved it here; she wished her
grandfather had similar tastes.
"Greetings, little one." Dr. Paul swept into the room through a beaded
curtain, his passing sounding like rain tapping against a window. His
flowing robe, white beard, long hair and bare feet always brought a smile
to Eve's face. "I'm so glad you came today."
Dr. Paul Rogers was once a premier expert in American Anthropology, a
well respected professor at the University of Southern California during
the nineteen fifties and early sixties. That was until a fateful meeting
with a man by the name of Timothy Leary.
Leary had been conducting experiments with a substance called lysergic
acid diethylamide, more commonly known as LSD, with the belief that
those who took the drug would be able to open the doors of perception
in the mind. At the time Dr. Paul had himself been studying the ancient
rites of vision quest, in which a tribal shaman would sometimes imbibe a
hallucinogenic plant in order to commune with the spirit world.
The pair compared notes and Paul was immediately intrigued by Tim's
research. During one of Leary's controlled LSD experimental sessions,
Dr. Paul tuned in, turned on, and dropped out. His experience was
undoubtedly unique.
It was the perfect blending of science and mysticism. The drug allowed
him to enter into a state of meditation that he hadn't known existed. The
long dormant areas of his mind sprung into action, and before he knew
what was happening, he was drifting through the Ether. By the end of
his five hour trip Dr. Rogers was no more, but Dr. Paul had just been
born.
In the months and years following that fateful day, Dr. Paul continued his
use of LSD during several more experiments. It wasn't long before he
had fallen out of favor with the scientific community. He was fired from
his teaching position at USC and all his research took on a less than
conventional direction that led his peers to distance themselves from
him.
Eventually Dr. Paul learned how to enter the Ether without the use of
LSD, but the damage to his career and reputation was irreversible.
Penniless and homeless, he drifted around the world learning all he
could from those who had had similar experiences in the Ether. Over
the next twenty years he accrued more knowledge of the Ether than
most could even dream about.
Another chance encounter led him to Dr. Whelan. Mal had learned of
Paul's wealth of knowledge through other practitioners of the mystical
arts, and sought out his expertise. At first Paul rejected Mal's offer of
complete autonomy in a scientifically controlled setting, but then he had
a vision... and her name was Sarah.
Dr. Paul had experienced numerous visions during his jaunts in the
Ether; Snapshots of things that hadn't happened yet, but would. Over
the years he learned to keep that ability to himself. It always paid to
keep an ace up your sleeve. Not even Malcolm knew of it.
Paul listened to Malcolm's entire pitch before he told him that he would
not be interested. As the two men stood to leave, Mal extended his
hand and Paul shook it. It was the first time Paul had ever experienced
a vision through contact alone. Usually he had to be in a meditative
state before the pictures flashed in his mind. This time the images
slammed home one after another in a series of blows that left Paul
feeling disoriented and weak.
Mal had stopped him from collapsing to the floor, and even tried to call a
doctor, but Paul waved him off. He apologized for his condition,
spinning a tale about occasional LSD flashbacks and other drug related
afflictions that he did not really have. He felt he could trust Mal. Even to
this day Mal was the only person here that he did trust, but he couldn't
tell him what he had just experienced.
Mal left Paul that day, giving him a hundred dollars for his time and a
phone number if he changed his mind. Paul waited three years before
calling to say that he would be joining Project Phoenix. He needed that
time to fully recover from what he received from the Ether. It had nearly
broken him.
"Of course I'm here, Dr. Paul." The little girl with the false name bounded
toward him and with a great leap, landed in his arms. "I love our times
together."
She peppered his cheek with butterfly kisses as he carried her back to
the center of the room. "Okay... Okay... Okay... I missed you too, little
one." He lowered her down until she finally let go, her pink feet finding
purchase on the dark wood of the low table top. "Have you been a good
girl for your grampa?"
"Uh-huh," she nodded. "I've been doing everything that he asks, just like
you asked me to."
"Good girl." He smiled down at her warmly. "It's important that you listen
carefully to what he has to say. You are one very special little girl, and
he's trying to help you reach your potential."
Eve's smile vanished in an instant. A look of horror and concern filled
her face.
"Oh!" she cried out, pointing to the side of Paul's head. "You're bleeding!
Oh no, did I hurt you?"
Paul wiped away the blood that had trickled out of his ear. He thought
he had washed it all away before Eve came bounding in. "I'm okay
sweetie, you didn't hurt me."
"Why are you bleeding?" she asked, her blue eyes never leaving the
source of the flowing red fluid.
"I... I had an accident before you got here." Not a lie, but he still felt bad
about omitting the details. "I'm okay now. Have you been practicing your
words?"
"Uh-huh." His distraction worked. "All the time."
Dr. Paul lowered himself down on one of his large pillows. "Do you
remember why it's important that you know those words?"
"Because they are keys," she answered proudly. "They open places in
my head."
"That's right, little one." He reached out and patted her on the top of her
head. "Now, why do you need to open those places?"
Again she answered quickly. "So that the Ether can come inside and let
me do stuff with it."
"What kind of stuff?"
"Magic stuff, silly," she giggled. This was stuff she learned the very first
time that they met, the day that the first image of his vision had come to
pass.
Until the day he was introduced to little Sarah, he waited patiently. Ten
long years of waiting, of helping to explain the inner workings of the
Ether to the other scientist, of trying to make sense of things that had not
yet happened. Then, like a dream coming to life, Mal introduced him to
his granddaughter.
'Things are not what they seem,' he remembered thinking as he hugged
the starry eyed nude child on that day. 'You are not what you seem.'
After a short conversation regarding Eve's likes and dislikes, Paul
discovered that she had been born on the same day as his meeting with
Mal... at the exact time as his vision.
"Synchronicity"
"What's that?" Eve asked.
Paul hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud. "Just thinking about our first day
together, and how far you've come."
"I learn the mostest from you, Dr. Paul." She smiled so hard it looked like
it hurt. "You're my most favoritest teacher!"
"Am I now? Wow, that is quite an honor." Dr. Paul made a low bow,
causing her to giggle.
"It's true!" she defended. "The other ones just ask me stuff, or tell me to
try to do stupid stuff. You teach me neat stuff... like, like... like the
invisible trick and the floaty thing. I really like the floaty thing."
"I'm glad, little one. I like teaching you." Paul shifted his legs until they
were folded beneath him. "You're my favorite pupil."
She blushed at his compliment, and then she too sat down in the same
manner, only she remained on top of the table. Their new heights put
them at eye level with one another.
"So, little one, you look like you have something on your mind." He
stretched out a hand and placed it on her bare knee. "Would you like to
ask me something?"
A worried expression came over her. She started biting her lower lip but
stopped after Paul patted her thigh. "It's okay, you can ask me.
Remember... no secrets between us."
"I... I did something naughty," she blurted out.
Paul smiled warmly but remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"I used a spell... one to hear things that I shouldn't have."
"And you heard something that you shouldn't have, didn't you?" Paul
finished for her.
Eve nodded. "Uh-huh."
"And now you have a question? A question about something that was
supposed to be a big secret?"
"Uh-huh."
"And you didn't know who else to come to, so you want to ask me?"
"Uh-huh." She cracked a little smile. "You're good at this. Are you in my
head?"
"No, little one, I'm not in your head." Paul patted her thigh again. "I just
remember what it was like to be a kid. Adults have lots of secrets that
they keep from kids, but kids sometimes hear things and then have
nowhere to go for answers."
"Oh. You were a kid?" She threw Paul a sly look.
"Ha! No making fun of my age or else I won't answer your question,
smarty pants." Paul's hand darted up from her thigh to tickle her side.
Eve's entire body responded to his touch by jerking away, her spine
bending like the letter 'C' in an attempt to avoid his playful fingers.
"Stop! Stop! Ha! No no no! I'll be good! I'll be good!" she squirmed
and laughed. "Please, no tickling!"
Paul pulled his hand free. "Okay, no more tickling. No more jokes about
my age, then... agreed?"
"Agreed." She eyed his hand worriedly, expecting a sneak attack, but
one never came.
"So, what's this big question?" Paul asked. He could see that she was
still distracted by the possibility of more tickling, so he lifted himself up
and then sat on his hands. "A promise is a promise, no more tickling.
Now, ask your question."
Again the fear swept over her. She loved Dr. Paul, trusted him above all
the others, but she didn't want to get in trouble with her Grandpa. "I... I..."
Again her lower lip became a chew toy.
Paul had been waiting for this moment to come since last years first
meeting. The next image that had been burned into his memory was
now sitting across from him, trembling slightly. He couldn't say anything
until this very moment, and now that it was here, he too began to
tremble.
"Eve?"
She lowered her eyes to the floor. "I... don't..."
Paul's excitement could no longer wait for Eve to get over her jitters.
"Yes, Eve, you do have an older brother."
Her crystal clear blue eyes rocketed up from the floor and locked on
Paul's own eyes. Her mouth hung open like a fish gasping for air.
"His name is Robbie, and he misses you too. Even though he can't
remember who you are, either."
"But... how?" Eve stammered.
Paul smiled reassuringly. "Relax, little one, and I'll tell you. I'll tell you
everything."
Continued in Chapter Seven....
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