Cataclysm (Alternate Earth Series, Book One) (18 page)

“Tara, baby,” I say, remembering Utha Mae use such an endearment in the wedding video, “I need to talk to you.”

“Grandma?” Tara whispers, looking confused and a little scared at hearing my disembodied voice.

“Tara, I need your help,” I say, unable to keep the pleading out of my voice, because I truly am in desperate need of her assistance.

“What kind of help would a spirit need from me?” Tara asks suspiciously, common sense kicking into play. “Aren’t you supposed to know everything now that you’re dead?”

It’s then that I know the plan isn’t going to work. Tara’s too smart to be fooled by what is essentially a parlor trick. I decide it’s time I place my trust in what I know of the Tara in our world. I doubt the two of them are very different, and I know my Tara would be more willing to help someone who was honest with her instead of deceitful.

“Tara, I’m not your grandmother,” I say, dropping the pretense of being a spirit. “Are we alone? Did anyone follow you here?”

“Who are you?” Tara asks, quickly standing to her feet. “I’m not going to stand here and talk to thin air. Show yourself to me if you want my help.”

“Are we alone?” I ask again. “If they see me, it could place you in a great deal of danger. That was the whole point of me trying to act like I was Utha Mae. We were trying to give you plausible deniability.”

“We’re alone,” Tara assures me. “They do have someone who watches me when I’m home, but they don’t come with me to the graveyard for some reason. I guess demons don’t want to be reminded that there is a God.”

I become visible again so Tara can see me. She jumps slightly at the suddenness of my appearance, but quickly recovers from the shock.

“Who are you and what do you want from me?” Tara asks, watching me closely.

“I’m a friend,” I tell her. “I’m here to stop Lucian and Ravan from destroying what’s left of this world.”

“I think you’re a little late, hon,” Tara says, visibly relaxing a small bit. “They’ve pretty much done that already.”

“Things will get worse if we don’t stop them, Tara,” I tell her, needing her to understand the gravity of the situation. “We need to know what it is they’re trying to make you and Malik find for them at the dig sites. What are they searching for?”

Tara shakes her head. “I don’t know. All they told us was that we were supposed to bring any and all artifacts we find to them.”

“So they haven’t mentioned anything specific?” I ask, feeling my heart sink with disappointment.

Tara shakes her head again. “No.” She narrows her eyes on me. “Who are you? Are you a Watcher?”

“No,” I tell her, “but I am working with the Watchers who are trying to find a way to stop what’s happening here.”

“It’s the end of days, isn’t it?” Tara asks, resigned. “My grandma warned us that it was coming when the Tear appeared in the sky. She said it was a sign from God that the world was about to be judged and not all of us would make it through the Tribulation.”

“I was sent here by God to help your world fight what’s happening, Tara. You just need to keep having faith in Him.”

“Faith I have, hon. It’s time I’m worried about. I don’t want my babies to have to live in a world like this. It just isn’t right.”

“Do you know if Malik has been told what you’re searching for?” I ask, grasping for one last straw of hope.

“If he has, he hasn’t said anything to me about it. My husband wouldn’t hide something that important from me.”

“Is there any way you could find out what they’re searching for?”

“Ohhh,” Tara says, her eyes lighting up with an idea, “maybe I can spy on them. I might not look it, but I can be ninja-stealthy if I have to be.”

I resist the urge to laugh. I don’t want to make light of the danger she will be placing herself in by helping us.

“Don’t do anything that might put your life at risk,” I tell her. “We might be able to find other ways to figure out what they’re looking for.”

I almost ask her if she thinks they’re looking for the Ark of the Covenant, but I decide not to. The less she knows, the better.

“I tell you what, hon,” Tara says. “If I overhear anything that might help, I’ll leave you a message here at my grandma’s grave the next time I visit it.”

“Don’t put yourself in any unnecessary danger,” I warn her. “If they figure out you’re trying to help us, they’ll kill you without even thinking about it. These people have no souls.”

“Oh, I know how those devils are,” Tara says, with a firm nod of her head. “I’ve been itching to find a way to foil their evil schemes. I just didn’t know how. The sooner things are sorted out, the better. I’m tired of being used by them and kept away from my family.”

“Anything you can learn would be a great help, but please, be careful,” I beg. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”

Tara holds out her hand for me to shake and I do.

“What’s your name, by the way?” she asks.

“Jess Collier.”

“Well, Jess, I’ll do my best to find out what’s going on. I can’t promise that I’ll be able to, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask from you.”

“All right, well, I guess I better get back to my mom’s house before my bodyguard comes looking for me. Like I said, I’ll try to leave you a message if I learn anything.”

Tara turns and walks out of the graveyard.

I feel Mason take hold of one of my hands before he phases us back to the great chamber in the mine.

“Well, that wasn’t a lot of help,” I say, unable to hide my disappointment.

“Not necessarily,” Mason says. “She might learn something now that she knows there’s hope. People find a little added strength when they know all is not lost.”

“I hope she doesn’t try too hard, though. I don’t want to be responsible for getting her hurt, or worse.”

“She’s smart. I’m sure she’ll take precautions.”

I see a group of people heading out of the great chamber towards the area with the underground lake.

“I wonder what they’re doing,” I say to Mason.

“Only one way to find out,” he replies, tugging on the hand that he still holds as we follow the small group down through the tunnel.

When we get there, I can’t help but smile at the sight that greets us.

Rafe is standing by the wood railing with Moses’ staff gripped firmly in one hand. He has the tip of it pointed towards the water. A group of children who live in the mine are pressed against the railing, looking down at something. When Mason and I reach an empty spot, I see that Rafe is using the power of his staff to call on the water to take the shape of a pack of wolves running across the surface of the lake. Rafe raises his staff, causing the wolves to appear to take flight and run right above the children’s heads, making them giggle in delight as droplets of water land on them.

Rafe’s creations continue their fanciful flight through the air until Rafe lowers his staff. The water creatures disperse, causing a large splash as the water falls back into the lake. Everyone who was near the railing gets a good splash in the face, but no one complains. They all clap, and the kids beg Rafe to do something else. Rafe humbly agrees and makes what looks to me like a Chinese dragon roar to life out of the water, though the sound of the dragon’s roar is of Rafe’s own creation.

I find myself smiling and laughing along with the kids, enjoying the unexpected entertainment.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice someone else watching the spectacle.

Nina stands alone, leaned up against the tunnel entrance. However, I notice her eyes are centered more on Rafe than they are the water dragon.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Mason as I let go of his hand to make my way over to Nina.

“How was dinner last night?” I ask her, hoping she doesn’t take my question as being too meddlesome.

Nina gives me a straight-faced sideways glance, and I’m not sure she’s going to answer me.

Finally, she replies, “It was fine.”

I look back at Rafe’s smiling face as he continues to entertain the growing group of onlookers, and feel as though I need to know more about Nina if one of my best friends intends to court her.

“Rafe’s very special to me,” I tell Nina. “He’s one of my best friends.”

“He seems nice,” Nina comments rather dryly, as if she’s holding back what she really thinks of Rafe.

“And do nice guys finish last in your world?” I ask, wondering if she’s a woman who prefers bad boys.

“I try to stay away from men,” she tells me, “nice or not.”

I study Nina for a moment and notice that she’s still watching Rafe like there’s something about him that she can’t quite figure out.

“Rafe’s as good as they come,” I inform her, in case she has any doubts. “He truly cares about other people more than he does himself. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Nina looks at me. “I have no intention of hurting him. We barely know each other. Besides, what kind of future could there be for us? He’ll be returning to your world once your mission here is finished.”

“True,” I say, “but there’s always the possibility that some of you could come back with us if you wanted to. It’s really not my call. That decision would have to be made by God.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nina says, dismissing the possibility. “We don’t live in a fairytale world where everyone gets to live happily ever after.”

“That seems like a depressing way to view life,” I tell her. “If you can’t dream for happiness, what’s the point of living?”

Nina doesn’t make a reply and keeps her face rather blank, not giving away her true feelings. She returns her gaze to Rafe.

“I gave up on finding happiness a long time ago,” she says, in a low voice that I have to strain to hear. “I don’t think it’s possible for me.”

“If I’ve learned anything in the past few years,” I tell her, “it’s that anything is possible, but you have to acknowledge that you want it first. That’s the first step.”

Nina looks at me and asks, “And what’s the second step?”

“Accepting it when it’s staring you straight in the face.”

Nina slowly nods her head, letting me know she understands what I’m telling her.

As Rafe continues to entertain the people in the mine, allowing them to find a small bit of joy in an otherwise-dismal situation, I sense that his natural love for life is touching Nina in a way that she wasn’t expecting. I have no way of knowing if anything will transpire between the two of them, but if a spark of love has been ignited, I hope Nina allows it to run its natural course and doesn’t extinguish it out fear.

Sometimes people don’t allow themselves to reach for something they want because they fear it will either be unobtainable or easily lost, causing them more pain in the end. I’m not sure which path in life Nina will decide to take, but I hope she has the courage to discover her true destiny.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Around mid-afternoon, Brand walks into the great chamber with Daniel by his side. This world’s Daniel carries himself with the same self-confidence and easy gait as ours. The only difference in appearance is his long hair, which only accentuates his handsome Asian features, giving him an almost kingly appearance.

“Samyaza,” Daniel says to Mason, bending down on one knee in front of my husband. “It’s an honor to be in your company once again.”

Mason places his hand on Daniel’s head, something I’ve seen him do to the Watchers on our world when they showed him such respect.

“I’m pleased to meet you as well, Daniel,” Mason replies, taking his hand away.

Daniel stands to his feet and holds his hand out for Mason to shake.

“It’s so strange to see you here,” Daniel says, almost embarrassed by the admission. “But I’m glad to know you survived the war in the Origin. It’s the way it should have been here. Your loss was felt by all of us when it happened. I wish you had been our leader on this Earth instead of Justin. He did nothing but lead us astray from our God-given mission.”

“So I’ve been told,” Mason says, a tight quality in his voice telling me that he’ll never forgive this world’s Justin for failing the Watchers under his command. However, I remember Brand telling us during our first visit that Lucian killed Justin so he could take control of the Watchers under his command. In my opinion, it was a fitting end for someone who failed his men so miserably.

“Hopefully, we can get things back on track here for all of you. Daniel, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Jess.”

Daniel smiles and bows to me. “It’s a great honor for me to stand in the presence of Michael’s vessel.”

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a little strange to be so formal with Daniel. All of Caylin’s chosen, including Daniel, have become members of our extended family. To have this Daniel not know me at all makes me feel melancholic for some reason.

“Daniel?” Malcolm questions as he comes to stand with us.

Daniel stares at Malcolm for a moment before saying, “You really
do
look identical to our Malcolm.”

“Ugh,” Malcolm says in slight disgust. “Can no one here see the difference between the real me and my copy? It’s painfully obvious to my eyes.”

Daniel’s effortless smile widens. “I’m sure he would say the same thing, just in reverse.”

“Hmm,” Malcolm says looking annoyed but making no further comment.

“Daniel has convinced Angela to let us speak with Allen,” Brand announces.

“Though, I feel as though I should warn you all not to expect much from Allen,” Daniel says. “He may or may not be of much help to you. For a long time now, Allen has been living in fantasy worlds that he constructs for himself. It’s his way of coping with everyday life. There are times and places in the past where he feels the safest. If we’re going to get any helpful information from him, we’ll have to play along with his delusion to keep him calm. If there is a spark of sanity left in him, we might get lucky.”

“What sort of world has he created for himself?” I ask.

“It changes from time to time, but at the moment he’s living in the woods, and seems to have taken on the persona of Robin Hood,” Daniel says, looking uncomfortable having to tell us such a thing.

For one, I can’t believe this world’s Allen is living in the woods where dirt and germs abounded. Our Allen has an obsessive-compulsive disorder about cleanliness. He prefers to stay within a somewhat sterile environment, but relents to our cajoling to spend time with us in the real world. I was told he used to be much worse than he is now, something I can’t imagine or would wish on my worst enemy. After he met Lilly, he slowly began to expand his world beyond the safe confines of his clean room. Now, he readily joins us for family gatherings, but you can still see his disorder shadow his every move. He always keeps a small bottle of antibacterial lotion in his pocket, which he uses profusely, though I suppose that is a great improvement from living in a sterile chamber and avoiding all physical contact with others.

“How should we handle him?” I ask, not wanting to cause Allen any unnecessary distress.

“I’m afraid we’ll just have to play it by ear for the most part,” Daniel says. “He’s similar to a child in many ways. As long as he feels safe, I don’t think we’ll have any problems. If he begins to feel that we’re threatening the validity of his fantasy world, it might throw him off the deep end, and we’ll lose any hope of gaining useful information from him.”

“Can I come along?” Malcolm asks.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Daniel says. “As far as Allen is concerned, your counterpart in this world is an enemy.”

“But I’m so bored here,” Malcolm complains. “I could go there invisible. My clothing allows me to do that.”

Daniel doesn’t look convinced. “I suppose that would be ok. But you’ll need to stay quiet. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can,” Malcolm says, as if it isn’t a problem.

“Can you really?” I ask Malcolm doubtfully, knowing how much he loves to hear himself talk sometimes.

Malcolm holds up his right hand and solemnly pledges, “I shall refrain from making any noise at all. I give you my word.”

“I guess you can come then,” I say, hoping I’ve made the right decision.

“When can we meet with him?” Mason asks.

“We should leave as soon as possible,” Daniel replies, indicating there might be some urgency in the timetable of the plan. “Angela asked him to go hunting for their supper. She’s already prepared him for your visit by saying we will be joining them for the meal. Don’t bombard him with too many questions, though. Let’s see if we can ease him towards a conversation about the temple. He might provide a natural opportunity for us to ask about it. If we go at him directly, it might work to our disadvantage.”

“We’ll tread lightly,” Mason assures Daniel.

“Can we take our weapons?” I ask.

“That should be fine,” Daniel replies. “Most people carried a weapon of some sort during that time period.”

Once we’re ready to depart, Daniel phases us all to a charming little cottage within an evergreen forest with trees so tall I can barely see the tops of them. The cottage itself has a pitched, thatched roof and whitewashed walls. On one end, there is a bay window jutting out and on the other end of the dwelling is a stone chimney. Flowerbeds filled with colorful wildflowers greet anyone who approaches the blue-painted front door. A single black metal lantern hangs by the entrance, lighting the way home for a weary traveler. As I take in the area surrounding the cottage, I notice the entrance to a cave not far away with a large moss-covered stone set strategically near its entrance.

“That’s where Angela spends her nights,” Daniel tells me, seeing my interest in the area. “Allen sets the stone in place so she can’t escape while she’s a werewolf.”

“And how does he justify her nightly transformation into a monster to himself?” I ask.

“He blames it on a spell cast by Maudlin, the witch of Papplewick,” Daniel answers.

“I’m sad to say I’ve never read any of the stories based on Robin Hood. I’ve never heard of Maudlin,” I admit.

“She was the main villain in a pastoral drama written by Benjamin Jonson, though the story was never finished. He died before he could complete it.”

“And who is Maudlin in Allen’s mind?” Malcolm asks.

“Ravan Draeke,” Daniel says.

“How does he rationalize that?” I ask. “Ravan had nothing to do with Angela’s curse. She wasn’t even alive then.”

“I don’t think rationale plays a large role in Allen’s world,” Daniel tells me. “In the story, Maudlin takes on the form of a raven to deceive Robin and Marian at a feast. I think that association more than anything has cemented Ravan as Maudlin in his mind. No matter the reason he’s conjured for himself, he blames her for the curse on Angela, and, of course, Lucian has taken on the role of the Sheriff of Nottingham.”

“How will we fit into the story, exactly?” I ask.

“I’m not sure yet,” Daniel says hesitantly. “I guess we’ll just have to wait to see how he identifies you. Whatever roles he gives you, try to play along as best you can. As I said, the more comfortable he feels around you, the more information he’ll be willing to share with us.”

“Besides, it’s not a sure thing that the Michael in this reality took Allen with him to the inner realm he hid King Solomon’s Temple in,” Malcolm reminds us. “If Michael even did that here.”

“At the moment, it’s the only lead we have to follow,” I say, not feeling particularly optimistic that we’ll learn anything useful on what feels reminiscent of a wild goose chase.

“We have to try everything we can,” Mason says.

The door to the cottage opens, and a young version of Angela steps out to greet us.

“Hello,” she says, looking at us all with more excitement than I expected.

I can only assume she doesn’t get to see many people, besides her father. I suppose any company, even that of strangers, is a relief of sorts.

It’s perplexing to see Angela at such a young age. She doesn’t look older than sixteen, possibly seventeen. During the last few years, she and I have become close since she’s married to Jonathan, Mason’s son. I feel sad for this Angela having to live out her life in fantasy worlds just to keep her father from losing what’s left of his mind.

To help play her part in Allen’s reality, Angela is wearing a simple white peasant top and long blue skirt designed for the time period her father’s mind has chosen to live in.

“Thank you for doing this, Angela,” Daniel tells her. “Has Allen returned yet?”

“No, not yet,” she tells us. “But I expect him back at any moment. It doesn’t take him long to hunt down a rabbit or two.”

Angela’s gaze turns to Malcolm. “You’re the Malcolm from the Origin, right?”

“Finally,” Malcolm says, “someone who has the good sense to tell us apart!”

Angela giggles. “You’re far handsomer than the one here.”

“Oh,
you
I like,” Malcolm tells her with a wink and a smile. “You’re as intelligent in this reality as you are in ours.”

Angela curtseys, accepting the compliment.

“Please, come inside,” she invites us. “It might be less jarring for my father if you’re already in place when he returns.”

We all follow Angela into the small cottage. Just before I enter, I grab Malcolm by the arm.

“You need to turn invisible,” I remind him.

Malcolm nods and I assume he’s activated his outfit’s ability to hide himself from view. I, of course, can still see him, since my own outfit allows me to see my friends, even when they’re invisible.

“And remember to keep quiet,” I remind him sternly.

“Oh, Jess. Ye of so little faith,” Malcolm says off-handedly. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. I promise.”

“And no snickering at Allen’s expense.”

“I feel slightly offended that you would suggest such a thing,” Malcolm says, his face becoming serious. “I wouldn’t mock someone whose mind is so shattered. You should know me better than that.”

I instantly feel a pang of guilt for suggesting it. I do know Malcolm. He does tease people on occasion, but only those who deserve it or who can handle it.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I do know better.”

Malcolm nods, accepting my apology.

When we walk into the cottage, I immediately notice how peaceful it is in its simplicity.

In the center of the room stands a long wooden table with benches on either side. A small bed, only big enough for one person, is situated against the wall where the bay window is located. Two rocking chairs that look constructed from tree limbs, carefully chosen because of their shape, sit in front of a cozy fireplace, which is lit to chase away the dampness in the air. A large black kettle sits within the flames, and the house is filled with the pleasant aroma of garlic, onions, and possibly potatoes, though I can’t be sure without looking inside the pot.

Angela has made a calm, tranquil dwelling for her and her father to reside in, where the outside world is but a shadow at their doorstep. Considering how cruel those who are trying to destroy it can be, I can’t blame them for wanting to hide here in their little cottage, pretending that the evil consuming this world doesn’t exist. I envy them in a small way. I’ve often imagined living a normal life with Mason where demons don’t hide around every corner. Once Mason asks God for his humanity, he will lose his angelic powers and have to live his life as a regular man. I yearn for that time and hope, after this mission is over, that he will be given the opportunity to live out one of his most heartfelt dreams.

“My dad should be back soon,” Angela informs us. “Please, have a seat while we wait for him.” Angela looks around the room and asks, “Where did Malcolm go?”

“I’m still here,” Malcolm whispers.

Angela jumps slightly from hearing his disembodied voice.

“He’s invisible,” I explain. “The clothing we wear gives us the power to do that.”

“Neat trick,” Angela says, in a way that makes me think she wishes she could become invisible sometimes.