Children of the Program (21 page)

              “So, if I have his baby, and it's one these Crystalline children, he'll be forced into The Beyond?  He’ll cease to exist?” asked Crystal. 

              “Yes!  He'll be gone, forever.  That's why he's freaking out.”

              “It's actually starting to make sense,” she humbly offered.

              “I'm here to disrupt his plan.  He wants you to have an abortion because you might be the one he
holds most dear
, if that's any consolation.  There's no changing what he is or what he's become.  As you said, he's been doping you.  He is marching an army of broken souls to the drums of madness.  He's become a rockstar.”

              “How so?” she asked.

              “Rock n' roll is about social change.  He may not be screaming into a microphone or strumming an electric guitar, but he sold it all for the rights to this revolution, and has created one hell of a fan club.”

              “It's so surreal,” said Crystal.

              “You don't have time to think.  When you leave, you can never look back!  I will try to find you a safe house, but if we get separated or I’m killed, promise me you’ll contact Grayson and have this baby.”

              To make haste, Dez descended to the crossroad.  “So, what have you kids come up with?”

              “She's going to have an abortion,” I offered.

              “Is that so?” he questioned, with an eerie look in his eyes.

              “I was afraid to tell you, because I thought a child would bring us closer together.  But, Neco's right!  When I think about the mission and what you're trying to do, it's not fair to the Cadence of the Sun.”

              “There's no time like the present.  I'll drive,” said Dez.  Neco, I owe you a head —
Ash’s
!”

              “That you do, sir!  That you do.”

+++

              Dez placed his bare chested arms around Crystal’s meek shoulders and guided her back to their house on the hill.  With one last glance, she left me questioning fate.  Her eyes were filled with an ocean of unsettling fear.  Thoughts of her family and friends seesawed her loyalty to Dez with the karma of hurting an angelic child.  She was convinced her racing heart had caused a minor tremor beneath their feet. 

For all intents and purposes, my immediate reason for joining the cult was validated.  I'd have ran, but protecting Ash remained paramount.  Dez and Crystal didn't simmer long before hopping on the road and making their way to an abortion clinic in Silver City.  His demeanor was cold, as the reality of her hiding her pregnancy eclipsed his ability to maintain a calm composure.  For miles they rested in an uncomfortable still — only the wind risked tickling their eardrums.  Resting in an ocean of blue skies, the magnificent sun of a new day pleaded for her absolution.

              “You should have parted your lips and spared me this embarrassment.  Your deceit will undermine my reign.  Do you realize the precedent you've set, Crystal?” asked Dez.  “How can I stand before this world we've created and tout our successes, if our followers cease to respect the expectations of their leader?  What stops any of them from choosing secrecy as an option?” He paused and allowed a moment for his wanted-aggravation to stoke his fury, hoping his closed line of interrogation would guide her toward his reason.  “You've jeopardized our security with your silent lies!  How do I learn to trust you?”

              Crystal could hear the familiar rattle of his mania.  Everything was beginning to make sense.  “Do you love me?”  The words fell from her tongue, casting a brilliant line over his flimsy logic and towering walls.  They pierced his soul and taunted his guise — never had those four words had the power to stop a man dead in his tracks.  He was fearful of the mines he’d laid.  Knowing the truth would set the universe back into balance and answer The Council’s calling, he stewed in checkmate.  The illusion he viciously protected from himself began shattering.  He gazed out of the windshield, as his mind drifted with the vehicle.  An alerted patrol car took notice to his swerves and followed.

              “Now, look what you made me do?” Dez said.

              “I didn't make you do anything.  I asked you a question and you didn't answer.”

              “Just shut up!  Goddamnit,” Dez barked.

              The circus lights atop the car mocked his sense of freedom.  Dez knew it was best to pull over and face the authority.  With a rush of blood to the face, they both sensed it was more than a mere traffic violation — paranoia suggested the authorities had been following them and were prepared to link Simon's disappearance, Juno's murder, and a laundry list of unsolved Cadence crimes to their names. 

After a slow-rolling approach to their vehicle, the cop finally emerged from his dusty patrol car and walked toward his scraggly offenders.  The officer's hesitant posture amplified Dez's rattling mind.  He felt the law's heavy footprints crushing their freedoms beneath.  He cracked the window cautiously, allowing only a brief waft of soiled air to mingle with the crisp clean atmosphere.  Crystal felt compelled to run.

              “License and...”

              Before uttering his rehearsed dialog, Crystal flung open the passenger side door and hopped onto the solid ground.  Without a thought, she sprinted into the unknown.  Startled, the officer tried to verbally thwart her, before radioing for back-up.  Dez remained in the vehicle and began feverishly sweating.  He could see the fear in her sluggish rhythm and knew she was putting him at a greater risk of being detained.

                “Where is she going?” The deputy officer screamed.

              “I don't know!  We were heading to the hospital, due to complications with her...”

              “Save it,” he said, bringing his lips to his Handie-Talkie.  “We have a young woman, early twenties, on foot.  She's running towards the highway.  We're on 152, about eight miles out.  She's crossing the desert fields, approaching Santa Clara.  Please be advised.”  Crossing behind an old field house, a barn obstructed their immediate view.  Quickly making her way to the intersecting route, by a nearby overpass, she crossed U.S. Route 180, scaled a minor hill by the exit and began flashing truckers for rides.  

              “Why do you suppose she's running?” asked the frustrated officer.  Patrol cars began to swarm Dez’s vehicle.

              “She's not dangerous — she's scared!  We were heading west, toward Silver City.  She's pregnant.” 

              “Is she armed?  High?” asked the officer.

              “Armed?  No.  She's concerned about the baby and probably heading to a hospital,” said Dez.

              “Do you have her number or a way for us to reach her?”

              “We can't afford phones.  Let me help you find her.  We're not criminals.”

              “OK.  Why does your van smell like grass and why were you swerving all over the damn road?”
              “We were arguing!” 

              “About pot?  It's not the kind of thing babies are into, ya' dig?”  The officer mocked his anxiety.

              Dez's shoulders slouched.  He knew his words had fallen deaf and struggled to maintain his humility.  “What's wrong?  Cat got your tongue?  We've had a lot of marijuana smuggled down this road.  Coincidentally, it's always in a white van,” added the officer.

              “Is that so?” snarked Dez.

              “You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, Smokey?”

              “We don't have anything on us.  Are you arresting me?”

              “Search the vehicle.”

              Dez offered a statement and was eventually released with a citation for reckless endangerment.  He hopped back into his van and consumed by curiosity.  In the days that followed, Crystal never appeared.  He feared a large scale search of the compound was imminent. 

chapter 31

Ash to Ashes

Ash was turning the corner on the 26
th
week of her second trimester.  Time was short, but she remained intent to see Neco.  Making arrangements, she booked a plane ticket to the states.  She hoped to surprise him at his Baltimorean home.  As she packed her leather bags, she sifted through various medallions and ornaments; items that incited the gorgeous memories of her recalcitrant days in Los Angeles.  She furtively longed to smuggle a piece Neco's impenetrable soul to The Beyond.  She always toted a lock of his dirty blonde hair in her favorite heart-shaped necklace. 

Before taking her flight, she sought an update from Grayson.

              “Any word on my dearest?  I was thinking about surprising him in the Land of the Mary,” asked Ash.

              “Maryland?” asked Grayson.

              “Yes.”

              “Cute.  He's been hovering below my radar.  I have been conscientious about following various New Mexican police blotters and keeping a long watch on story blurbs from southwestern news affiliates, but nothing has come across my radar to suggest he's been hospitalized or murdered.  I am still worried about his overall plan for this mission and general well-being,” said Grayson.

              “Wait, what do you mean?” asked Ash.

              “The last we spoke, he was holed up in the same hotel room that Simon stayed in.  He seemed a little anxious, but it's hard to fault a guy for being a little nervous about joining a death camp, cult or whatever.  I still can't believe he had the guts to go in.  If anything, he's got heart,” said Grayson.

              “I meant, in general.  What are you talking about?” asked Ash.

              “He shot like a cannon toward Los Angeles, met up with Elisa and worked his way over to New Mexico.  He went to find Dez and Simon alive!  Things got bloody when Magnus recreated a perverse Shakespearean death sequence in a Santa Monica convenient store parking lot.  So, they're gone!  We very well may have four dead Programmers on our hands,” said Grayson. 

              “It's a tragedy,” she sobbed.  “I was planning to surprise him.  Why didn't you tell me about this?  You know how much he means to me.  Why would he risk going to New Mexico with all of this chaos unfolding?” asked Ash.

              “I don't know how this will land on your conscious, but I'm fairly confident that
you
are the answer you're seeking,” said Grayson.

              “I can't believe this.”

              “He didn't want to put any added stress on you or the baby.  The truth is, in his own words, he 'Didn't have anything left to lose.'  He figured he would try and do something about Dez — for all of us.  He was concerned about you, especially after Juno's horrible murder.  Trust me, we are all in considerable debt, and better hope he never comes to collect.”

              “I'm speechless,” said Ash.

              “It's hard to believe it's happening and he's there, but once...”

              “He gets an idea into his head...” said Ash, finishing Grayson's line.

              “Exactly.”

              “I've got to find him!” she said.

              “You absolutely cannot.  You're pregnant.  If he is in trouble, you can't risk your life or your baby's.  That baby is bigger than your feelings for Neco and I don't say that to be hurtful or to invalidate your mindset.  Think about all of the people who've yet to be born.  I beg you, don't miss your opportunity to leave this vicious cycle of life,” Grayson pleaded.

              “Where is he, Grayson?” asked Ash.

              “In good conscious, I simply cannot tell you.  He's going to have to save himself.” 

              In utter disgust, Ash slammed her phone down on the marble floor.  Pieces shattered and spun, just like her ill heart and reeling mind.  She understood Grayson's concern, and that he was only trying to shield her child, but she remained determined to find a way to communicate with Neco.  For weeks, she pined by her broken phone and stared at the plane ticket, knowing it would always be the ‘goodbye’ that never was.  While penning her last will and testament, she was startled by an untimely buzz at her towering gates.

              “Hello?” she asked, peering through the thick curtains.

              “Is this the virtuoso they call Ash?” asked Cass, drenched in a black trench coat. 

              “Yes, this is she.  Can I help you, sir?” she asked.

              “I was hoping you'd buzz me in.  I have a few parties interested in viewing your lush works.”

              After her scrambling black and green gate monitor settled, she was able to make out the silhouettes of four bodies.  The communicator seemed young and arrogant, as if he was trying to impress his cohorts.  Their wicked smiles, illuminated by the whites of their teeth, helped decipher their intent. Cass repeatedly looked over his shoulder for reassurance, but also for patrolling vehicles.

              “You can come back during an open house, but we do not have regular visiting hours,” offered Ash.

              “Of course, you don't.  I'll just leave my business card,” he paused, furling his brow and offering a distorted smile for the adjusting camera.  He flashed the card before the lens, to reveal the Cadence logo, before flicking it through the gate.  “Oh, and Miss Mckenzie, we'll be back.  Remember this face.  We're very interested in what you have to offer,” said Cass.

              Ash's mind was suspended by suspicion.  In a trance, she faded from the monitor and debated whether she should stir her slumbering parents with the obvious prank.  If her life was in danger, she wanted to warn Neco.  Knowing the best way to communicate with the outside world was through her brush, she decided to publicly part with her “Neco:  Into the Art of Darkness” painting.  Collectors knew of the piece, and her insistence to never part with it. 

              The following morning, Ash welcomed the world to a game of Where's Waldo?  “Find and deliver this man and
WIN
this painting, valued at
$8,582,475
(5,000,000 pound sterling).”  The piece quickly became one of her most popular works.  She contacted various news groups and editors to spread the word of her offer.  It quickly went viral.  Her official landing page and the Children of the Program website also featured the bait.  To create a demand for its attention, the proposed value of the work was set high. 

It was to be an offer Dez couldn't refuse.