Vestige (19 page)

Once at the church, Micah walked up and down the aisles. He didn’t find Clarke, but he saw plenty of people scattered about. They seemed to have set-up camps. Each person surrounded themselves with stuff like blankets, bags, and clothing. One woman even had a collection of books stacked next to her. It looked as if the homeless had moved in.

Micah was about to give up and move on when he heard someone call his name.

“Micah, you’re here.” Thomas stepped down from the altar and walked towards him, meeting him at the front of the center aisle. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“I’m looking for Clarke. Have you seen her?” Micah asked.

“No, sorry. Why?”

“She thinks she saw something, but it’s all a big misunderstanding. I have to find her and explain everything.”

“I’m sure you’ll find her. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Now, we can finish our conversation. I have some things I have to—”

“I can’t talk now Father. I need to find Clarke.”

“Can you give me ten minutes? She can’t get that far in ten minutes. Besides, they have checkpoints set up. No one can leave town unless they’re tagged. She’s not going anywhere.”

That was good news. If she couldn’t leave town, he’d be able to find her for sure. “I don’t know....”

“This is important. Why don’t you just sit for a few minutes?” Thomas slid into the nearest pew, and Micah reluctantly followed.

“As I was saying earlier tonight, Jon seems to think you’re in danger. At first, I thought he had a break with reality but now…” Thomas paused, wondering how to phrase things, so he didn’t scare Micah. “Jon thinks that this is the End Times, and that you have an important role to play.”

“Yeah…well…my mother was a survivalist. She’s been training me for the Apocalypse since I was born.” Micah’s voice trailed off.

“So you know what you’re supposed to do?”

“I know how to survive. I have some skills, supplies, tools, but I’m getting the impression that survival isn’t my only objective.”

“Micah, do you know the secretary of homeland security.”

“Who?”

“Daniel Grimshaw, the secretary of homeland security.”

Micah felt himself being pulled down into that tunnel again.

“Micah, do you know Grimshaw?” Thomas repeated.

“No…Yes…I don’t know…but he’s the beast…right?”

“Micah this is important. Do you understand what Jon meant by that?”

“At first I didn’t, but now I do. He’s the devil.”

“Not the devil, Micah. The beast is the antichrist. Do you know how Christ was God made flesh?”

Micah nodded.

“Likewise, the antichrist is Satan made flesh,” explained Thomas. “And the tag is his mark.”

“So, what about Jess and—”

“They belong to him. Anyone with a tag—”

“That’s not fair!” Micah protested. “Grimshaw tricked everyone.”

“It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” agreed Thomas.

“And what about the missing?” asked Micah.

“They’re the lucky ones; they’re in heaven. They won’t have to endure what’s to come.” Thomas paused. “Tell me what you know about Grimshaw.”

Micah took a deep breath and told Thomas about his dreams, about his family, and about Grimshaw’s note.

“Grimshaw left you a note? Can I see it?”

“I hid it back at my house.”

“And you have a gun back there too?” asked Thomas.

“I have more than one gun. I have an arsenal,” said Micah.

“Grimshaw has visited me a couple of times too. He didn’t want me to talk to you.” Thomas paused. “Jon called you the Guardian and said that you were the only one who could defeat the antichrist. Neither Jon nor Grimshaw thought that you knew this.”

Micah rubbed his forehead with his hand. “There was this story my mother used to tell me, but I thought it was just a fairytale. I didn’t think it was true.” Micah looked squarely at Thomas. “I’m…an…angel.”

Thomas scrutinized Micah’s face. Was he joking? But Micah’s sober expression told Thomas he was completely serious. Thomas wanted to respond, but his brain was frozen. How does one reply to a comment like that? An angel? Although, it does make sense that an angel would be the one who defeats the antichrist.

“I know it sounds crazy. But my mom said that we‘re descendants of St. Michael.” Micah continued, telling Thomas the story about Abra and Adonijah.

Thomas remained silent, trying to absorb every word.

“Do you believe me, Father?” asked Micah.

“It makes as much sense as anything else that I’ve seen and heard over these past couple weeks.” Thomas paused. “So you know who you are, but do you know how to defeat Grimshaw?”

“No.” Micah studied his hands. Wait, his father had said that everything he needed was in the house. “I think we need to go back to my house.”

“So…you do know?” asked Thomas.

“No, but there has to be something in that bunker. There has to be.”

“I’d go with you, but what about your friends?” asked Thomas.

“I told them to leave. After everything that happened earlier, I’d be surprised if they were still there. But I have to find Clarke first. I hate that she thinks I betrayed her.”

“Micah, this is too important. If you don’t find out how you’re supposed to stop Grimshaw, it won’t matter what Clarke thinks. I’ll help you find her later.”

Thomas persuaded Micah, so they headed back to the keyhole house. Once there, Micah made sure his friends were gone and then led Thomas down to the basement and into the bunker. Thomas’s mouth dropped when he saw the elaborate set up.

“The password for the door is GUARDIAN. Isn’t that funny?” Micah’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Do you think there’s a clue in here somewhere?” asked Thomas.

“There has to be.” Micah pulled out the trunk from under the bunk and began to remove the weapons. Once the trunk was empty, he pulled at the sides and bottom looking for a secret compartment, but found nothing. He then began to empty the shelves.

In an attempt to help, Thomas sifted through the shelves too. When he saw the block of wood on the top shelf, he pulled it down. He saw the word, KUSHTA, and smiled. “Micah, what’s this?”

“A family heirloom, but I’m not sure what it is.”

“This is it. Micah, do you know what this word means?”

“No.”

“Kushta is Aramaic for truth. Jon said that you could defeat Grimshaw with The Truth.”

Micah froze. Was this really happening?

“You need to take this,” insisted Thomas.

“No. I don’t want it. It’s just a slab of wood.” Micah could hear his heart pounding.

“Micah…” Thomas extended his arms, thrusting the object at him.

Micah reluctantly took the piece of wood from Thomas. As soon as he touched it, the wood began to vibrate, and within seconds, a seam appeared through its center.

“It’s a box,” said Thomas. “Open it.”

Micah set it on the table and pulled the top off. Inside he found a dagger, a plain old dagger. The blade wasn’t shiny, and the handle wasn’t bejeweled. Rather, the metal looked dull and the wood of the handle looked as if it had a case of dry rot.

“What the…. So, I’m supposed to kill the antichrist with this antique?” Micah moved his hand toward the dagger. He hesitated for a moment but then gripped the handle. Micah felt as if he was being transported through time. He saw Michael cast Satan out of heaven, and he saw Abra fall to earth. He witnessed the birth of Adonijah, and Abra offering her only son’s life up to her heavenly Father.

Micah saw the generations of his ancestors as they prepared to meet the antichrist. He saw the dagger handed down from parent to child for hundreds of thousands of years. He felt as if he were watching an epic movie. And when the movie faded to black, Micah dropped the dagger. It bounced off the table and fell to the floor.

Thomas bent down and tried to pick it up, but he couldn’t. The ancient weapon repelled his touch. “I can’t touch it. Only you can.”

“I don’t want to. What happens if I refuse to do this?”

“I don’t think you have a choice.”

“I just want to be with Clarke. I don’t want to fight anyone. Why didn’t anyone ask me if I wanted to be the Guardian before they just assumed I’d do it? I’m going to find Clarke.” Micah walked towards the empty trunk. He placed almost all the weapons back in it except for the Jericho.

“Do you think the gun’s a good idea?” Thomas asked.

“I want to be prepared.”

“I don’t know, Micah…. I’m going with you.”

“Whatever.” Micah closed the trunk.

“Wait…can I have a weapon?” Thomas asked.

“Why not...” Micah lifted the lid and took out a handgun. “Do you know how to use this?”

“Yeah, sure.” Thomas lied. He had never touched a gun in his life. “Where are we going?”

“We should split up. You go to Clarke’s house, and I’ll go downtown. If she’s at home, wait there with her. I’ll meet you when I’m done. Here’s a key. And if you see Clarke’s mom, don’t tell her anything.”

“I thought Clarke didn’t have a mom,” said Thomas.

“She does. She says that because she doesn’t want to acknowledge her. Clarke hates Lilith.”

“Her mom’s name is Lilith? Micah…Grimshaw’s wife is named Lilith.” Thomas swallowed hard.

Micah’s body stiffened. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. “We need to find Clarke!”

Chapter Twenty-One

With her hands still cuffed behind her back, Clarke tried to get comfortable. Leaning in the corner, she propped herself up on the bare cot. They could have at least removed the cuffs. Her arms were starting to fall asleep.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her. The last hour was a blur. How did she end up here? Maybe she should have stayed at Micah’s and locked herself in the bathroom or something. She thought about the last thing he said to her. “It’s not what you think…” She wasn’t an idiot. She had two eyes. And Amber…what was she babbling about? “It’s nothing personal…we’re supposed to separate you…” Did Micah’s friends set them up? Why would they do that?

The tears started to flow again, but this time, not out of anger. Maybe Micah didn't do anything. If she had only given him a chance to explain, she’d be curled up next to him right now instead of here. Clarke sat on the cot motionless for what seemed to be an eternity. She tried to fall asleep, but her tingling arms wouldn’t allow it.

Finally, the door swung open, and Manny walked in. “Hey Clarke, I thought you might need to eat something. I have enough rations to share. I’m not supposed to give you food…you know, extra incentive to get tagged. But I’d hate to see you pass out.” Manny handed her a piece of white bread and a cup of water.

“Uh…the cuffs…. Can you take them off?” she asked.

“Sorry, I should have done that when you first arrived.” Manny set the food and water down on the cot next to her.

Clarke scooted to the edge and turned around. Manny bent over and leaned in close. She could feel his moist breath on the back of her neck. It seemed to take him longer than it should have to remove the cuffs.

“Everything okay back there?” she asked.

He didn’t answer her right away. After another moment, he finally straightened himself. “There ya go.”

Once free, Clarke had trouble moving her arms. She shook them until the blood started flowing again. “Wow, bread and water, kind of a cliché, don’t you think?” Clarke said.

“It’s better than nothing.” Manny pointed at the bed. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Um…sure.”

Manny sat so close to her that his leg touched hers. She scooted over and placed the cup of water between them. Then she broke a tiny piece of the bread off and popped it into her mouth.

“It’s nice to have some company,” said Manny. “It gets a little lonely. I’m the only one who works here. So far, everyone who’s been arrested agreed to be tagged right away, so I haven’t had anyone to talk to for a while.”

“Don’t you get a break?” she asked, careful not to look him in the eye.

“No. There aren’t enough of us. We’re on duty twenty-four seven.”

“That sucks.” She put another piece of bread into her mouth and stared at the floor.

“Why don’t you want to get tagged?” Manny asked her.

“I just don’t. The whole thing is creepy. Kind of Big Brotherish…”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Can I see your number?” Clarke asked.

“You mean with the scanner?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” Manny was only gone a few minutes. When he returned, he waved the scanner across his hand so Clarke could see his number.

“Huh, you have 666 in your number too,” noted Clarke.

“Who else has 666?” he asked.

“One of the soldiers at the roadblock.”

“Ben?”

“No…well, I don’t know if Ben does. I didn’t see his. But the other one did.”

“Maybe it’s a military code,” said Manny.

“Maybe,” agreed Clarke.

“If you’re still here in the morning, you’ll be able to meet the secretary of homeland security and his wife. They’re supposed to stop by around 6:00.”

“I don’t care about politics,” said Clarke.

“But he’s the one who came up with this tagging stuff. If you ask me, that Mr. Grimshaw is a brilliant man.”

“Wait…what did you say?” Clarke jumped up from the cot, causing the cup of water to spill.

“What…that Mr. Grimshaw is—”

“Daniel Grimshaw?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

The little hairs on her arm stood on end. “What does he look like?” Could Daniel Grimshaw be a real person?

“Oh, um, he’s tall with dark hair. He looks like he’s in his thirties. The guy could be a model or an actor. Hang on…I have a picture of him.” Manny dug in his pocket and pulled out his iPhone. “You know, I spent a ton of money for this thing, and now I can only use it to take pictures.”

While Manny looked through his phone, Clarke’s mind raced with the possibilities. Was it a coincidence that the man from her nightmares and the man responsible for the Tagging Mandate had the same name? Maybe her dreams were premonitions. She heard of people who dreamt of the future, but that had never happened to her before.

“Here, I found a picture of me with Mr. and Mrs. Grimshaw. You know, you look like Mrs. Grimshaw. Maybe that’s why I thought you looked familiar.”