“Look down there,” Mantu said.
He and Ray were in the cockpit, watching the Midwest rolling out below them.
“What city is that?” Ray asked.
“Kansas City,” Burnham shouted from the controls.
“Jesus,” Ray whispered. The entire city was on fire, it seemed. Nothing but orange and yellow flames engulfed in heavy black smoke.
“Jesus has nothing to do with that,” Mantu said. “I knew things were bad on the coasts, but this—” He shook his head. “Imagine how many people are caught in that. Families. Children.”
“I don’t want to think about it,” Ray said.
Even the normally stoic Konstantin seemed shocked. Ray steadied himself on Burnham’s seat. The pilot shook his head. “This is the worst I’ve seen yet,” Burnham said. “I’m gonna have to go out of the way to get around it. This smoke is a problem.”
“Will that set us back?”
Burnham nodded. “A little. But we’ll still have enough fuel to get to Tango by sunset. Just keep your fingers crossed someone’s there to fill us up.”
Konstantin had a headphone clasped to the side of his ear. He kept turning dials and muttering.
“Is he getting anything?” Ray asked.
“Nada. There was some military chatter about an hour ago, but by the time I got on it was over. And honestly, military chatter makes me nervous.”
“Why’s that?” Ray asked.
Burnham looked at him as if he was stupid. “We’re in a giant Russian aircraft, Ray, remember? If there are any Air Force guys fooling around up here and looking for something to shoot down, we might as well have a big red target painted on us.”
“Well, then, I don’t want to think about that, either,” Ray said.
“Good—don’t. Because the extra crap-ton of extra fuel we’re carrying makes us a gas can with rotors.”
“You think America’s finest would shoot us down without warning?” Mantu asked.
Burnham shrugged. “From what I understand, the military is pretty much a free-for-all anyway. There’s no central command anymore—hasn’t been for months. The brass are all hiding underground or hunkered down far away from the States, and I don’t see any reason why they’d want to come back to this. You said you were a teacher, right, Ray? Do you read much history?”
Ray shook his head. “Not as much as I should have. I taught U.S. history for a year. But that was very basic stuff.”
“Well, I read a lot. I know what happens when empires fall apart, and it’s no different now. Doesn’t matter if it’s Rome or Egypt or the Mayans, it’s always the same. Stuff hits the fan, as they say.”
“You say stuff,” Mantu interjected. “Everyone else says shit.”
Burnham ignored him. “After the initial breakdown and chaos you get gang leaders popping up. I think we’ve probably hit the warlord stage by now. People get scared and start looking for protection, and whoever has the biggest ego and the most weapons generally rises to big chief. My guess is when our boys and girls in uniform discovered their chain of command no longer existed, more than a few of them decided to grab all the weapons they could and become king of the mountain. And all those doomsday preppers with basements full of guns? They’ve been waiting for this.”
“What about the rest of the world? Same deal?”
“Europe is a mess. Russia, China, the Middle East, too—when the collapse hit, it took everyone down because everything in the world is so connected. The coordination of the attacks was incredible.”
Mantu nodded. “The bombs hit everywhere within a few days. Then the assassinations. Governments were caught with their pants down. No one knew who to attack because everyone was under attack, and it’s a wonder some idiot didn’t decide to go full-scale nuclear. We wouldn’t be having this discussion if that was the case.”
Ray stared out the window. “So they did this? Lily and her organization?”
Claire sighed. “Yes. But not always directly.”
Ray said, “I don’t understand.”
“It’s complicated,” Claire said. “If we had hours I could probably explain. Their operation—the Black Brotherhood, as some call them—is incredibly complex. They work, like we do, on numerous levels, both physical and spiritual. On a very basic level, they infiltrated positions of power with techniques as old as time—intimidation, blackmail, murder, and torture.”
Ray nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had a taste of that.”
“But there is a higher level, too. An inversion of what we call the Great Work. This planet has been a playground for discarnate forces and beings since human consciousness emerged. Higher consciousness is like a bright light, and it attracts all sorts of entities.”
“Like moths,” Mantu added. “We’re porch lights.”
“Yes. And over the course of human evolution, certain gifted persons learned to interact with them. Knowledge was passed to those people. Such is the origin of religion and the technologies of magic.”
“But the Black Brotherhood played with the bad guys,” Ray said.
“To put it very simply, yes,” Claire answered. “But it’s not always good guys and bad guys, or black versus white. Like humans, the entities of the inner realms are a mixed bag—with their own desires and motivations. They can be manipulative as well as helpful, hateful as well as kind.”
“Micah always used to say they had their own agenda,” Mantu added. “So we had to be careful who we aligned ourselves with because they’re tricky. The beings Lily and her predecessors deal with are the nasty fuckers. They get off on consuming human energy, which is why they always demanded sacrifices from their priests. Like Moloch and the gods of the Aztecs and the Mayans, and whatever being infected the Nazis.”
Ray stared at the fiery carnage below. “Then they must be feeding well right now.”
Claire put her hand on his shoulder. “We have friends in the inner realms, too. The balance shifts, because the universe abhors an imbalance. It has always been this way. But all of the seers and prophets said there would be a climax, a power struggle like nothing ever seen before. We knew it was coming, but the speed and intensity took us by surprise. In that, we failed.”
“But what does she get out of this?” Ray asked. “If the planet is a smoking ruin, what good does that do her?”
Claire shook her head. “I can’t pretend to know her mind. But perhaps she has made a deal. She is a whore for power, that is clear, and the destruction of so much life, and the concentration of suffering, will fill her and her allies with untold energy. Maybe she will be queen of whatever new world emerges from the ashes.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Mantu said.
“Or I,” Claire said. “So we must keep faith. We have many great souls helping us behind the scenes. In my darkest moments, I can feel them working in their own ways to support us. And maybe in other parts of the world there are others, brothers and sisters like us, playing out their roles. I can only hope.”
Ray nodded. He was finding it hard to be hopeful, especially knowing they were on a one-way trip straight into Lily’s lair.
“I’m not sure about this,” Burnham said.
They were all clustered in the cockpit. Below them, the shadows from the setting sun stretched across a bleak, desolate grassland. A rectangular building sat at the end of a dirt road, ringed by a few vehicles. What looked like an overturned, burned-out pickup truck lay in a ditch on the side of an overgrown runway.
“Doesn’t look good,” Mantu said. “If any of our people were in there, they would have heard us. I think somebody got here before us. And that torched truck doesn’t make me feel very welcome.”
“I think we should see what happened,” Claire said. “They knew we were coming. Maybe they had to leave. They could have left us a message.”
“I don’t know,” Burnham said. “We’re almost running on fumes. There are tanks down there—see those big yellow suckers? They’re full of Jet B, which is made for cold weather. But what if it’s a setup? One hit with a rocket launcher and we’re all roasted toasties.”
Claire frowned. “Do we have any other options?”
Burnham looked at a paper map unfolded next to him. “There’s a private airport about a hundred and fifty klicks east. We might make it, if the wind cooperates. But if not, we’re stuck out of gas in the middle of nowhere. And if we get there, there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to refuel. Place might be a giant hole in the ground now.”
“Sounds like we don’t have much choice,” Ray said.
Mantu slapped him on the back. “Well, let’s make sure we’re prepared. I hope you kids remember what you were taught at the firing range.”
Ray’s heart was hammering as the copter landed. In spite of the temperature he was sweating inside the Russian camouflage jacket. The metal of the AK was cold in his shaking hands.
“Push down the safety,” Mantu said.
Ray clicked the safety off. He heard Claire and Mantu doing the same.
“And keep your finger away from the trigger,” Mantu added. “Remember, we’re surrounded by jet fuel. And bullets ricochet.”
Ray swallowed. He still hated guns, and he had never learned to shoot very well. But he had to admit having it in his hands felt comforting. He just prayed he didn’t have to use it.
“Vinod, you ready?”
Vinod was at the controls for the door. He was blinking furiously. “Ready, Brother Mantu.”
The steel walls shuddered as the aircraft touched the ground.
“When Vinod drops the door, just stay put,” Mantu shouted. “I’ll go first. Just keep your eyes on me. If I wave, come on out. Stay low to the ground.” He glanced at Ray. “And don’t point that fucking thing anywhere near me, please.”
Burnham’s voice came through the speaker. “All right. I’m keeping her ready in case we have to get out of here fast. Good luck, y’all.”
Mantu nodded to Vinod. “Okay, open her up.” He raised the butt of the gun to his shoulder.
Cold air filled the interior as the door opened. It was almost dark, but Ray could still see the dim shape of the building about a hundred feet in front of them. The roar of the rotors was deafening, and the wind from the blades whipped the dirt into clouds and flattened the grass in waves.
“Be careful,” Claire shouted.
Mantu slowly descended the steps.
Ray clutched the rifle, trying to steady his shaking hands. Mantu crept forward, his gun pointed at the darkness behind the open door. Ray kept his gun’s sight on the empty doorway. There were no windows, so unless someone was hiding in the three vehicles parked nearby, any danger was going to come out of that door. When Mantu approached the building, he quickly drew himself up against the wall. He held out his palm—stay—and crouched as he leaned around, his AK held in front of him, to peer through the door.
And then he vanished inside.
“Shit,” Ray shouted. “We should go.”
Claire held her mouth to his ear. “No. He said to wait.”
“Fuck.” Ray gritted his teeth.
They watched, and waited, Ray keeping his sight just to the right of the doorway. The wait seemed interminable. The gun grew heavy in Ray’s sweaty hands but he didn’t dare lower the barrel. Mantu’s life could depend upon his reflexes.
Ray’s breath froze in his chest. Mantu stepped out, his gun lowered. He waved to them.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Claire said.
Mantu walked to the front of the copter. He looked up into the windshield and ran his finger across his throat. Cut the engine. When he got back to the open door of the building Claire and Ray approached, guns at their sides.
“It’s empty?” Ray asked.
Mantu grimaced. “It’s not pretty in there,” he said. Vinod and Burnham joined them.
“Konstantin is gonna stay at the controls in case we have to bug out,” Burnham said. “I don’t care if there’s no one here. I’ve got a bad feeling.”
Mantu nodded. “Yeah. It’s bad, all right.” He wiped sweat off his forehead.
“What happened?” Claire asked.
Mantu stared into the empty field around them. “Burnham, why don’t you and Vinod check the vehicles? Especially that overturned truck. See if you can find anything, and meet us right back here, okay?”
Burnham looked at Mantu, then Vinod, and nodded. “Let’s go, brother Vinnie,” he said. The two headed off to the charred truck.
Mantu put his hands on his companions’ shoulders. “I didn’t want Vinod to have to see this.”
Ray grimaced. His stomach was already fluttering.
“Let’s go,” Claire said.
Mantu pulled a flashlight out of his jacket pocket. “Follow me.”
The room had been ransacked. The floor was littered with paper, folders, an overturned office chair, and a busted laptop, its keys scattered like teeth. The remains of a fire had dusted the walls with black ash. Dust hung in the flashlight beam. “You can leave your guns on that desk,” Mantu said. “But put the safety on first, please.” Ray and Claire placed their guns carefully on the desk. Mantu led them to another door. It hung on one hinge, and the lock had been gouged out of the wood. It made a sharp cracking sound as he pushed it open. “Cover your nose,” he said.
It was too late. Ray gagged.
Claire pulled her scarf across her face. “My gods,” she said.
At first, it was nearly impossible to make out what had happened. The room was large, and Mantu’s flashlight beam played across what looked like scattered pieces of several mannequins. Limbs, torsos, hands…
Ray turned and bolted out of the room. He sat outside, his stomach heaving, desperately trying to keep down its contents. No no no. He could not unsee what the flashlight had revealed—the mangled limbs, the hunks of flesh and bone, the walls and floor crusted with blood, and the head, eyes sunken into the skull, mounted atop a sharpened stick. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image wouldn’t go away. He inhaled the freezing air deeply, struggling to rein in his hyperventilation.
A few minutes later Claire returned. Her face was ashen. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“No,” he said.
She put her head in her hands. “Me neither.” They sat in silence. When Vinod returned, he took one look at Ray and Claire and sat down next to them without a word. “I don’t want to go in there, I don’t think,” he said. Claire put her arm around him.
Mantu came out of the door carrying their rifles. He set them down on the concrete and rubbed his eyes, then sat down next to Vinod. “Jesus. That is some fucked-up shit.”
“What do you think…I mean, who could have done that?” Claire asked.
Mantu shook his head slowly. “It wasn’t random violence. It wasn’t a robbery or some kind of raid because I found a whole stash of canned food and water in the closet. This was a message.”
“For us,” Claire said.
Ray stood. “They knew we were coming.” The sun had gone down, and the wide, flat expanse around them seemed to extend into an infinity of darkness.
Mantu nodded. “They knew our itinerary. So they killed the brothers and sisters who were waiting here for us. I think there were three men and two women. But it’s hard to say.”
Burnham emerged from the darkness. He looked at them, then shook his head. “No good news, I see,” he said. He was greeted by silence. “Then I’m sorry to have to add to the bad news.”
They all stared at him.
“When I got near the fuel tanks I could smell it, just faintly. Then I checked the tanks. They had been emptied. Someone just opened up the hoses and let it run into the ground. Then they rolled the hoses back up. Like some kind of joke.”
“Fuck.” Ray pressed his fists against his head.
The wind whipped up, and the only sound breaking the silence was the hiss of air through the tall grasses. Finally Claire spoke up. “So, our only chance is that airport you mentioned. Can we fly there now? I don’t like sitting out here in the open.”
Burnham paced. “I don’t want to fly at night. If we’re lucky we have just enough fuel left to make it. And we’ll be going in blind in the dark. I can’t risk that.”
“We should all spend the night in the copter,” Mantu said. “Two can stand guard with the night vision goggles. If anyone approaches we’ll see them. Burnham, you and Konstantin will have to take shifts at the controls in case we need to haul ass out of here.”
Burnham nodded. “You got it, brother.”
Mantu walked over to Ray. “I don’t think you’re getting much sleep any time soon, homeboy. Why don’t you stay up and keep me company.”
Ray nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”
They filed off into the helicopter, one by one, no one speaking as they climbed the stairs.
“Christ, it’s cold,” Ray said. He was drinking a Coke that Mantu had liberated from the storage closet and the cold metal of the can nearly stuck to his lips. They were sitting a dozen yards from the copter, back to back on a blanket, rifles across their laps.
“This is like the goddamn Bahamas compared to where we’re heading,” Mantu said. He was wearing the bulky night vision goggles. Ray had taken his off after an hour of seeing nothing, not even an animal.
“Do you think we’ll find fuel at this airport Burnham’s talking about?”
“Fuck if I know. But if we don’t, you gonna give up?”
“No way.”
“Me neither. If we don’t fly, we find ourselves a couple of pickup trucks, put a few of those snowmobiles in the back, and convoy up to the frozen-ass Yukon.”
“Shouldn’t take more than a month,” Ray said. “If we don’t starve to death. Or get killed by whoever killed those poor people in there.” He shivered, watching his breath steam in the icy air. “It feels pretty hopeless, Mantu.”
“C’mon, Ray. How many times have we been in worse situations? Seriously, man. Crawford had you chained up like a dog. He was ready to kill your woman right in front of you, and you didn’t give up. You carried her on your back with broken ribs until I found you.”
“I don’t want to think about that,” Ray said.
“Fine. When Lily’s bug venom was eating away at your brain, you think that was better than this? We’re alive, brother. Isn’t that something? Me, you, Claire, my motherfucking man Vinod, Burnham, and that vodka-guzzling Russian. With a helicopter the size of a fucking 747 loaded with guns and ammo. The whole world is turning into a pile of shit, but look at us—it doesn’t seem so bad. Shit, brother, one day maybe they’ll make a movie about us. Can you imagine that?”
“No. I can’t.”
Mantu ignored him. “I’d better play myself, because nobody can do Mantu like Mantu. Starring Mantu, as himself, and costarring some sexy nineteen-year-old black honey so I can show the world who put the man in Mantu, if you know what I’m saying.”
Ray smiled in spite of himself. “I don’t think there are movies anymore. Hollywood is probably toast like every other city.”
“You are a real downer, you know that, Ray. Just when I was fantasizing about all the sweet supermodel pussy I was gonna get, you have to go and take a steaming shit on my dreams.”
“You sure we can’t build a fire?”
“Fuck no. Might as well put up a neon sign that says, COME KILL US, PLEASE.”
Ray sighed. “Yeah, I guess that would be stupid. But freezing to death is stupid, too.”
“It’s almost time for the next watch. So we can sleep inside the freezing cold hunk of metal instead of out here in the wind.”
Ray pulled his hood tight against his face. He wondered if Ellen and William were warm, wherever they were. “The last time I saw Ellen she was getting on a Ferris wheel with William. We’d had a big fight that day. A really bad one. She was sick of all the running, sick of living in the shitty little village in Guatemala. And she just finally let it all out.” He breathed deeply, the cold air burning in his throat. “But then we got to that carnival, and William was so happy. And she kissed me right before she got on the ride. And that was it. Up she went, and my whole life just disappeared. Everything, just…gone.”
Mantu took off his goggles and rubbed his eyes. “How about we turn in for the night. We could both use some sleep.”
Ray stood. His knees cracked. “Yeah. Do you think—” The words caught in his throat. A bright orange light passed above them in the darkness, streaking across the sky. “Look,” he said, pointing.
Mantu followed his finger. “Holy shit,” he said.
The light continued its trajectory, then disappeared on the northern horizon.
Ray picked up his rifle. He’d seen more than enough strange lights in his time. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to stay outside to find out.
Mantu was shaking him awake. It felt like he had slept for only ten minutes, but muted sunlight was coming through the copter windows.
“Someone’s coming,” Mantu said.
Ray jumped out of the sleeping bag. The cold hit him right away. Mantu ran down the steps and out onto the plains, his rifle in one hand at his side, quickly followed by Burnham. Claire sat up in her sleeping bag, her hair sticking in all directions. “What’s going on?” she asked.
Ray was already pulling on his jacket. “Someone’s out there,” he said. He grabbed his nearby rifle and descended the copter’s stairs. The sun hadn’t risen, but the sky was light enough that he immediately saw the truck in the distance. It was enormous, a tanker of some sort, its headlights winding along the road to their position. Mantu was crouched behind a pickup. Across from him, Konstantin and Vinod hung close to the doorway of the building, Konstantin with his gun aimed ahead, Vinod staring through a set of binoculars.
“Who are they?” Ray asked as he crouched down next to Mantu.
Mantu kept his gaze on the approaching truck. “No idea. But I’m not taking any chances after what we found inside that building.”
“Where’s Burnham?” Ray asked.
Mantu pointed to the overturned truck. “Covering us. So they can’t take us all out at once.”
The motor grew louder. The tanker rounded a turn in the road, and Ray saw the huge, black letters on the side of the tank: PEXCO. Then it turned and headed straight toward them. But it wasn’t going fast. Just slowly rolling along.
“Hey!” Claire waved from inside the aircraft.
“Stay there,” Mantu shouted. She made an okay sign and disappeared back into the darkness. But Ray saw the end of her rifle barrel extending a few inches beyond the door’s frame.
As the truck approached, Ray rested the rifle against the hood of the pickup, keeping the gun’s sight on the windshield of the oncoming vehicle. He could make out a driver and a passenger, but they were just blurs behind the glass, and the headlights were making it impossible to see any details. He pushed off the safety and rested his finger next to the trigger. The cold metal made his hands ache.
Vinod lowered the binoculars and whispered to Konstantin, who turned to Mantu and held up four fingers. Four people inside. At least they weren’t outnumbered. Unless others were hiding, but how many people could fit inside the truck’s cab? If this was an attack, it was a strange way to do it, rolling up so slowly and casually. The truck slowed as it got closer, then stopped at the road’s end with a loud whine and hiss of its brakes. The engine shut off, then the headlights, and the only sound left was Ray’s heavy breathing. Then its doors opened up. Ray’s finger touched the trigger lightly. He hoped to God he didn’t have to pull the thing. He still had nightmares about the cop he’d shot in Crawford’s mansion, his face white and aghast as he tumbled down the stairs. Killing was always so easy in the movies, but the last thing he ever wanted to do was shoot another human being.
The driver and the passenger both stepped out at the same time. Casually, as if they were paying a call to an old friend. They both wore long, hooded coats, but their hands were empty. Then another two stepped out, and stood in silence. Two men, two women, their features hidden in the shadows of their hoods. One of the women spoke. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Who are you?” Mantu shouted.
“Friends,” the woman said. “Who have traveled far, through long days and dark nights to bring aid to our brothers and sisters.” Then they all made the Brotherhood sign in unison—two extended fingers to their foreheads, their lips, their hearts.
Mantu stepped from behind the pickup and lowered his gun. Ray kept his gun aimed—it could still be a trap. Maybe that’s how the people inside the building had been murdered—by people posing as fellow members of the Brotherhood. But Mantu smiled and made the sign in return. “It’s okay,” he shouted. Ray felt air rush into his lungs. He’d been holding his breath. “Welcome, brothers and sisters,” Mantu said.
After the shock had worn off, Konstantin built a fire, and they all sat around it, soaking up the precious heat in the biting cold of morning. The visitors were an odd-looking bunch, growing even more so as the sun illuminated their features. Ray had a hard time guessing their ages—they all looked strangely ageless, with smooth skin but the slow, purposeful mannerisms of older people. Some of the Council members he had met in Eleusis had that same timeless look, so he assumed they were probably higher-ups in the Brotherhood. The black woman, who introduced herself as Oriel, was apparently the leader, and when she lowered her hood Ray saw her hair was shorn close to her scalp. She had a tattoo running from behind her ear down the side of her neck. Mantu hadn’t take his eyes off her and now that Ray could see her more clearly he understood why.
Oriel motioned to the woman next to her. “Sister Surya,” she said, and Surya lowered her hood. She looked East Indian, with large bright eyes that surveyed them all. “Brother Michael,” Oriel said, and the man next to Surya lowered his hood. His face was ruddy and wide, his hair a fiery orange-red. He smiled as if he was holding back a secret. “And Brother Gabe,” Oriel said. The final stranger lowered his hood. He was pale skinned, with angular features and Asiatic eyes. He didn’t smile, but his penetrating, cool blue eyes moved to each of them. His gaze made Ray squirm.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, brothers and sisters,” Claire said. She introduced each of their group in turn. “As you may have guessed, we have a number of questions.”
“Of course, sister,” Oriel said. The fire reflected in her pupils.
Claire clasped her hands. “It is quite fortunate that you found us here. And I assume that tanker there is—”
“Full of grade B jet fuel,” Michael said. He had a heavy Irish accent. “More than enough to get you where you’re going.” He grinned at Ray.
“I see,” Claire said. “But how did you know where to find us?”
Oriel held her hands out to the flames. “We were alerted some time ago of your plans. Since then, we have been following you.” When she turned her head Ray could make out the shape of the tattoo on her neck. A circle with a cross in its center.
“Following us?” Claire asked. Ray watched Oriel carefully. How could they have been followed when they were traveling in a helicopter?
“In vision,” Surya said, and her companions nodded. A gust of wind fanned the fire.
Claire nodded, then looked around the circle. “Where did you come from?”
Oriel smiled. “We come from everywhere, and go only where we are needed.”
Ray shifted on the blanket. He was used to Brotherhood people speaking corny, New Age platitudes, but now was not the time for vagueness. “I think we deserve actual answers,” he said. And immediately regretted it when Claire shot him a not now look. But Oriel just looked amused, and Michael actually snickered.
Gabe finally spoke. His voice was soft. “Our time is short, my brethren. Small talk is wasted breath. Brother William and Brother Konstantin—please use this time to begin fueling your aircraft.”
Burnham looked to Claire. She nodded. “Okeydokey,” he said. “Let’s go, Konstantin. Time to fill her up.”
The Russian stood up. He seemed dazed, uncertain of what was happening. But he followed Burnham to the truck.
Ray wiped his eyes. The early sunlight was making everything look surreal, awash in gold and pastels. The four visitors faced them, outlined by the rays of light emerging from the edge of the earth behind them and wavering in the heat from the fire.
Oriel stood. “Brothers and sister, though there is much I wish to tell you, there is no time left. Eleusis was not the only sanctum to fall. Since you fled, the attacks on our brethren have grown bolder and more deadly. And our enemy has accelerated its attempts to activate the other artifacts. The group in Ethiopia may have been successful, as all of our attempts to scry their workings show nothing but an immense, lifeless blackness for miles. And where the blackness ends, walls of fire spread.”
Claire made the Brotherhood sign.
“But the artifact under her control—the one in the north—is the mother of them all. It was the first of its kind, and if it is opened, the others will activate in turn. It must be stopped, no matter the cost, or we will all be lost.” Reflection from the firelight flared in Oriel’s eyes. “For some of you, the cost may be your lives. But you must understand the gravity of our dilemma, and know that whatever you sacrifice, it is in service to all life on this planet.”
“No pressure,” Mantu whispered.
“It is understood, sister,” Claire said quietly.
“Many things long dormant are awakening,” Oriel continued. “They are roused by the unfolding cataclysm. Some may help us, some may seek to thwart us. The spirits of the earth are crawling from chthonic realms, and the skies are full of the demons of the air.”
Ray’s throat went dry. Mantu was looking at him.
Oriel’s eyes locked on to each of theirs in turn. “This is the last we, as emissaries of the ancient order, can do for you. When you leave here, you are on your own. Do not hesitate, do not tarry, and for the sake of us all, do not fail.”
The four visitors stood together. “Now we will honor the dead,” Oriel said. She and the others filed into the building and disappeared into the shadowy interior.
Burnham walked back to the group.
“We’re filling her up. Looks like plenty to get us to our final destination. Those folks showing up was a heckuva stroke of luck, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Claire said. “Indeed.” She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then quickly stood. “I think we need to focus on our final preparations. How much longer will it be before we can take off?”
Burnham did some mental calculations. “We’ve gone an awful long way without doing a proper look-see and that always makes me nervous. Maybe two hours. I’d like to take longer, but those clouds in the west are bothering me.”
“Agreed,” Mantu said. “I’m getting edgy.”
Ray nodded. He was feeling it, too—a creeping uneasiness. Something inside was telling him to move. To get away from this windblown, isolated place as quickly as possible.
“What are they doing in there?” Ray asked Claire as they stood in the doorway of the copter. The visitors had been inside the building for nearly two hours.
“Performing the Rite of the Dead. When they’re done, they’ll cremate the remains.”
Vinod looked up from obsessively rearranging the contents of his duffel bag. “It is similar to the Bardo Thodol of the Tibetan Buddhists.”
“Violence injures the subtle body as much as it does the flesh,” Claire continued. “The normal transitional process is thrown into chaos. The souls are frightened, shocked by the violence and unable to let go of the flesh, and if they aren’t carefully guided they can wander, become lost, and never find their way back to the Source.”
“Like ghosts?” Ray asked.
“My mother called them preta,” Vinod said. “She could see them everywhere.”
“Yes, Ray. Ghosts, revenants, shades…all names for the same thing.” Claire rubbed her temples. “But let’s not talk about such things when we have so much to do.” She turned and walked to the cargo area.
Ray left to find Mantu. The sun had warmed the morning air, but not by much. Mantu sat on a cinder block, oiling and cleaning the rifles. Ray mimed flicking a coin at him. “Penny for your thoughts.”
Mantu raised his head. He forced a brief smile, then went back to work.
“Okay, ten bucks for your thoughts Are you okay? I’ve never once said something to you without getting a dose of your comedic bullshit in response.” He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Seriously, you all right?”
Mantu set down the can of oil and rag. “Yeah, man. I’m just thinking.”
Ray cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I got it. You shameless dog. I saw the way you were staring at Oriel.”
Mantu shook his head. “No, I swear. I know it’s unlike me, and she’s USDA stamped and certified prime, sure, but there’s something about her…I couldn’t even go there. Can you believe that? Your boy Mantu saying this shit?”
“Never thought I’d see the day.”
“There’s something about them. They’re different.”
Burnham walked past. He and Konstantin had been inspecting the rotors and his hands were black with grease. He nodded toward the building. “They still in there?”
“Yeah,” Ray said. “Doing some funeral rite. Why?”
Burnham glanced around, then leaned in. “Something was bothering me and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then when I was rolling up the hose, I looked inside the tanker truck.” He glanced at the building. “Then I realized what was odd. There’s nothing in there. Not a thing.”
“What do you mean?” Mantu asked.
“Not a backpack, candy wrapper, water bottle, weapon, soda can, or a sleeping bag. Nada. I have no idea where they came from, but don’t you think that’s weird? To travel with nothing but the clothes on their backs?”
“Yeah, that is pretty strange,” Ray said.
Burnham shrugged. “And did either of you tell them there were dead people inside the building?”
Ray stared. He hadn’t even thought of that.
Mantu just shook his head and went back to cleaning the rifle.
“It’s time,” Burnham said. They were all gathered next to the helicopter’s steps as Konstantin did his final check in the cockpit. “I wish we could do more in the way of inspections, but I think we all want to get the heck in the air. Especially with that ugly sky in the west.”
Vinod stared quietly at the building. “Should we tell them? It doesn’t seem right to leave.”
Claire shook her head. “The rites cannot be interrupted.”
“Well, they’ll definitely hear the aircraft warming up,” Burnham said. “If they want to say goodbye, it’s up to them.” He held out his arms. “Say goodbye to the land of the free and hello to the Great White North.”
Ray looked one last time into the darkened doorway, then followed his friends up the stairs as the copter’s engine whined into life.
They were all strapped in for takeoff when Burnham yelled in the intercom for everyone to come to the cockpit. He was wide-eyed at the controls and pointed to the building.
“Holy shit,” Mantu shouted.
“We need to help them,” Ray said.
Smoke poured out of the open door of the building, thick and black. Tongues of flame erupted along the seams of the roof, and the copter’s blades were whipping the fire into a maelstrom.
Konstantin started yelling in Russian and pointing ahead. He handed Burnham his binoculars.
“I’ll be damned,” Burnham said. “Let’s go! Everyone, back to your seats and buckle up!”
“What’s going on?” Claire asked.
“Go!” Burnham shouted. “There’s a whole mess of vehicles heading our way. Go now! Let’s get her up, Konstantin!”
They ran to their seats. Ray stared out the window at the growing conflagration and the engine grew louder and higher pitched. Why the hell weren’t they getting out of there?
Vinod rocked back and forth as he fastened the straps.
The copter lifted, then tilted forward. Ray clung tightly to the webbing of his flip-up seat. Then he saw them through the smoke. Oriel, Michael, Surya, and Gabe stepping out from the black, billowing clouds, their clothing whipping in the blast of air from the rotors.
“They’re out,” Ray shouted. “We need to get them onboard.”
But then they were climbing.
Ray and Mantu rushed to the pilots. “What’s happening down there?” Ray asked.
Burnham nodded to their left. “Looks like about a dozen vehicles swarming the place. Couple of the jackasses took potshots at us.”
“I hope they don’t have any SAMs,” Mantu said.
“I’m not taking any chances,” Burnham said as the copter banked.
Konstantin shouted to Burnham. “Look. There.”
Ray and Mantu stepped to his side of the cockpit and looked through the glass.
Mantu gasped. “What the fucking fuck?”
Oriel and her crew were walking toward the onslaught of vehicles. Calmly, with their hands held high.
Ray held on to his friend’s shoulder for support. “Oh, no. No.” He could only stare as he watched their bodies crumple.