The 49th Mystic Page 5

  “What do you see?”

  I almost said sand, but it wasn’t that anymore. “A stone.”

  “A stone. Everything you see with your eyes is like this stone. The world before you, the body you live in, the tasks you face.” He placed the stone in my hand as he said it. “Everything.”

  I nodded.

  “Is it heavy?”

  “No.”

  “Who’s holding it?”

  “I am,” I said.

  “And who are you?”

  The question confused me. I stared at my hand, my arm. Who are you? Where are you from? Why are you here? I wasn’t sure.

  As the questions whispered through my mind, the flesh of my hand and arm faded and became translucent. I could see through my skin. Through to the veins that ran down my arm. But those veins were not filled with blood.

  Light, as bright as the sun, ran through my veins.

  I blinked to clear my sight. But the vision persisted. That was me? But more . . .

  And then it changed. The light in my veins began to recede up my arm, replaced by dark blood as it withdrew. First at the wrist, then slowly up my forearm.

  I was so taken by the sight that I didn’t at first notice the weight of the stone in my hand. It was growing heavier. By the time blood had replaced the light past my elbow, the stone was unbearably heavy.

  I almost dropped it but clung tight, thinking this was a test of some sort. But I didn’t have the strength to keep my arm elevated. The massive weight pulled me to one knee and slammed my hand into the ground, overcome by the weight of that one stone.

  The blood replaced the light up through my shoulder, like a creeping vine slithering through my veins. Then it was into my neck and brain, and darkness swallowed my sight.

  Shadow Man’s taunting filled my mind. When you see, I will blind you again, and again . . .

  I began to panic and was about to scream for help when my vision returned, from the top down. I jerked my head to look at my shoulder and saw that the light was filling my veins again, replacing the blood as it moved down my arm once more. And as it did, my arm regained its strength.

  Stunned, I lifted the stone off the sand as the last of my blood was replaced with light. As I stood, my arm and hand became opaque flesh once more. A normal body.

  “Whenever you try to hold the stone in flesh and blood, it will overwhelm you,” the man said. “Instead, look to the light. Don’t be afraid of the shadow it creates. Re-member who you are. Return to the truth of your origin and recognize yourself. For this, I will send you a helper. Do you understand?”

  “I . . . Yes.” But only in part.

  He nodded. “Find the five seals for yourself, 49th. When you do, you will know your origin and you will recognize yourself. What happens to you will happen to all. You cannot lead the world out of darkness until you find the five seals for yourself.”

  I was the 49th? It’s what Shadow Man called me. But if Shadow Man was darkness, the man before me was light. I blinked, filled with questions.

  He took the stone from my hand, and I watched as it turned to sand and slipped through his fingers and fell to the ground.

  “Who are you?” I asked, looking back into his green eyes.

  “I am known by many names,” he said with a whimsical wink. “But you can call me Justin.”

  “Justin? Just Justin?”

  “It is enough.”

  And I knew it was.

  He looked over my head to the dunes again. “They’re here.”

  I twisted to see for myself. “Who . . .”

  I saw who and caught my breath.

  At least fifty mounted warriors lined the dune’s crest. I could see their black leather armor, the swords strapped to the saddles, their long dreadlocks.

  An odor reached me, carried down by a light breeze. The stench of something rotting. The Roush streaked for the sky.

  I spun back, flooded with the familiar fear of my nightmares. “Who are . . . ?”

  But Justin too was gone. Just . . . gone. I was alone again!

  No, not alone. I twisted back and saw the first of the horses plunging down the dune. Terror crashed through my chest. They were coming for me!

  My survival instincts swallowed me whole.

  I sprinted breakneck toward the only refuge I could see.

  4

  DAVID PACED in the examination room, mind lost on the madness of all that had transpired in the last two hours. Nothing made sense to him. There had to be an explanation, a way to figure out what had happened, and once he made sense of that much, he’d be able to take steps to reverse it. His mind was caught in a loop, rehearsing the events as they’d unfolded.

  They’d injected CRISPR, and Rachelle showed no adverse reactions at first. Then Smith arrived like a puppet master speaking in riddles.

  He’d evidently pricked her finger. Nothing else that they could determine.

  Rachelle lay on the bed breathing evenly, no sign of trauma, no indication of any nightmare. Miranda had taken all her vitals and started a simple saline IV to keep her hydrated. Other than being in a coma, there were no indications she had suffered any harm.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Easy, David. It’s going to be fine.

  The door banged open and Miranda walked in. “Just got off the phone with Dr. Bouchard in Paris. Lucky to get through. Not much is getting across the Atlantic. It’s a mess out there and I don’t think it’s going to get any—”

  “What did he say?”

  “He ran a test on the sample of the CRISPR they sent. Its coding is correct. They’ve never seen a reaction like this without tying it directly to the errors in the genetic coding. Neither have the Chinese, as far as he knows.”

  “What if Rachelle’s different? Is there any chance a reaction like this could be traced back to CRISPR?”

  “He doesn’t think so. They have her blood work. You just have to give her time. Look at her.”

  Rachelle lay in peace. Miranda walked up to the bed and adjusted the blanket. “I really think . . .” She froze. “What’s this?”

  “What?” David stepped around her and looked at Rachelle’s right shoulder. A black circle, roughly three inches in diameter, had been etched into her skin. “How did that get there?”

  “Did . . . I don’t remember it earlier.” She drew her thumb over the skin. “I could swear it wasn’t here an hour ago. Looks like one of those temporary tattoos.”

  Odd. As odd as Smith’s sudden appearance.

  “Hmmm . . .” Miranda pulled the blanket up around Rachelle’s neck. “Truth be told, we’re not even sure she is in a coma. If she hasn’t woken up by morning—”

  “Morning? No.” He shoved a finger at the wall. “The world’s falling apart out there! We have no idea what communications and transportation will be like tomorrow. If I’m going to take her to Salt Lake, I have to go today.”

  She stared at him. “You know that’s impossible.”

  “I know that my daughter is in crisis!”

  Rule number one in Eden: approved visitors and deliveries entered regularly, but Simon Moses permitted no member of the community to leave the valley unless their departure was to be permanent. No one ever had taken that option. Voluntary retention was one of Simon’s greatest bragging rights.

  Miranda rested her elbow in the crook of her arm and nervously bit at a fingernail. “You do realize that even if you get out, you can’t discuss CRISPR with anyone outside of Eden. What we did isn’t exactly legal.”

  “I realize that. They don’t have to know about CRISPR. You’re saying her condition has nothing to do with it anyway.” David headed for the door. “Keep an eye on her and call me if anything changes.”

  “Where are you going?”

  He turned back. “Simon has to know. If nothing changes in the next hour, I’m taking her to Salt Lake.”

  It would take him five minutes at a jog to reach the administration offices. Attached to the north side of the chur
ch, the building was made of stone blocks fortified with enough steel to withstand a nuclear blast. Of course, if it ever actually came to that, the only people to survive would be those hunkered down in this building, and the supplies in the basement would eventually run out. There would be no surviving any nuclear blast, and they all knew that.

  But it made a fine statement. And to say that Eden was prepared for any event short of a nuclear blast wasn’t an understatement.

  David and his wife, Rachelle, had been approved for residency by council vote seventeen years earlier. After seeing the idyllic setting, Rachelle insisted that Eden was the perfect place to raise a child. Even small towns need good therapists, she said. She’d been right. David had grown to love the town, even more after his wife’s death.

  He took the back way, in no mood to meet whoever was out and about. By the looks of it, business had resumed after the morning news rush. Cindy leaned against the wall at the entrance to Bill’s Hardware, talking to John while she puffed away at an e-cig. E-cigs were allowed because although Barth Caldwell, council member and local enforcer, had kicked his nasty cigarette habit for the sake of the no-smoking law, he still needed his nicotine fix. So he’d replaced his cigarette habit with an e-cig habit and convinced Simon to allow the exception for the whole town.

  Head down, hands in pockets, David ducked into the alleyway behind the administration building and hurried to the back entrance. He found it open and pushed in.

  Hillary Moses, Simon’s blonde wife, who looked a good ten years younger than her husband even though they were both in their early fifties, looked up from the copy machine. “Hi, David.”

  “Hello, Hillary. Simon in?”

  She nodded. “Been a busy day. What do you make of it?”

  “Make of what?”

  She stared at him without answering.

  “You mean the grid. Terrible. He’s in the chambers?” David walked toward the hall, hardly eager for a prolonged discussion with Hillary, who rarely knew when or how to stop any discourse.

  “Of course the grid. What else? They say it’s spreading. Texas lost half its power an hour ago. The president’s holding a press conference in twenty minutes. They say he’s going to declare a national state of emergency. It’ll be the first time since 9/11.” She paused, then wagged her head at the hall. “He’s in with Linda.”

  “Thank you.”

  David hurried down the hall before she could speak again. Texas? The revelation only increased his urgency. Under any other circumstance he might be glued to the television as well, but today terrorist attacks on the national power grid would have to wait.

  Three raps on the door returned Simon’s familiar low voice. “Come in.”

  David stepped in and shut the door behind him. The large council room consisted of the Judge’s mahogany desk at one end and a conference table in the center surrounded by eight stuffed chairs. Cherrywood bookcases lined three of the walls—over a thousand books, each one with a story that Simon would gladly tell to anyone who asked. Half of them were collector’s editions.

  The Judge sat behind his desk, feet propped up on the surface, idly tapping his cheek with a pencil. A younger twin of Clint Eastwood with a full beard. His brown eyes were inviting.

  “Good morning, Doctor. What’s the good word?”

  David looked at Linda Loving, seated in one of two high-backed leather chairs facing the desk. As the director of social well-being, Linda was responsible for all matters related to community interaction and health, which included the hospital. She was the youngest of the four council members and the only woman. Maybe forty-five, though David didn’t track ages or birthdays closely.

  Linda had blonde hair and a thin frame. Two children. Her husband, Evan, had fallen from their roof and landed on his head three years earlier. She hadn’t remarried. The only single parent in town. Her entire life revolved around her children, which was appropriate for someone in her position.

  “Hello, Judge. Linda.” He walked up to the desk and sat heavily in the chair next to her.

  “That bad?” Simon asked.

  David was about to respond when the Judge dropped his legs to the floor and leaned forward, eyes bright. He stabbed the desk with his forefinger as he talked.

  “I’m telling you, David. Every single hour we’ve spent preparing over these past twenty years, every dime, is going to pay off for us in the coming days, weeks, and months. How many times have I stood before the people and spoken the truth? Perilous times are coming, but our God will shelter us in times of trouble. Run for the hills, store up thy bounty. Some may say that our laws are harsh, but those same souls will find out just how lawlessness ends.” He leaned back, satisfied. Not reveling in the destruction of others, but at peace with his provision of security for his people. “How many times, David?”

  “Many.”

  Linda was smiling, a gentle and loving devotee.

  Simon nodded. “Well, now it’s time to reap what we have sown, and that, my friend, is good news for Eden.”

  “That bad, huh?” David echoed.

  “The world will never be the same.”

  Hillary knocked once on the door and walked in, mug of steaming coffee in her hand. She crossed to her husband, set the cup down, and kissed the top of his head. “Two sugars, honey.”

  “Thank you, darling.” He took her hand and returned a kiss to the back of her knuckles. They’d always been like this—he the gentle master, she the woman all too pleased to follow his lead and return love in every way she could. Rather sexist, David thought, but par for the course in Eden. At least their love was genuine.

  Hillary slipped out and Simon continued.

  “Whoever’s behind these grid failures is no slouch. They aren’t saying half of it in the media. Everything’s much worse. Anyone with half a brain who’s spent even an hour researching the vulnerabilities of our grid knows that.”

  He let the comment sit, creating as good an opportunity as any.

  “We have a problem,” David said.

  “They do, but—”

  “I’m talking about Rachelle.”

  Simon sat back and crossed one leg over the other. “The delivery came through as promised, which I might add is a good thing. We’re closing the road this afternoon, assuming the council approves, which it will.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “We meet at noon. Half an hour.”

  “You’re talking about CRISPR?” Linda asked.

  Simon nodded. To David: “So what’s the problem? When are you going to administer it?”

  “That’s just it. We already did.”

  Simon’s brow arched. “That was quick. And?”

  “And . . .” He hadn’t planned to tell them everything, but it occurred to him now that he both wanted and needed their full support. Both were trustworthy and had good hearts, which was much more than he could say for the other two council members, Barth and Maxwell.

  So he told them. Everything except for Vlad Smith’s claim of authority over Simon and his claim that something was very wrong in Eden.

  A shadow fell over Simon’s expression. “What was his point? You’re saying he physically attacked you?”

  “Pushed me. He . . . I’m not sure what his point was. For all I know he’s just some nutcase who found his way in. Says he wants to bring sight to the blind. But he’s not the issue. Rachelle is.”

  The second hand on the wall clock clicked through time.

  “Sight to the blind,” Simon said. “Those were his words?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Vlad Smith, you say. I’ll let Barth know.” He jotted down the name. “The last thing we need is an intruder. So how did our brave girl do?”

  There was no graceful way to say it.

  “Not good. She fell into a coma.”

  The Judge stared at him. “What do you mean, she fell into a coma?”

  “I mean she had a reaction of some kind.”

  “To what this Smith did?”
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  “We have no idea what’s happening. We reached out to Dr. Bouchard in Paris and verified the genetic coding.”

  “So it’s not CRISPR then.”

  “If it is, it’s a first. Either way, we have to deal with the coma now.” A beat. “I think I need to take her to Salt Lake City. Today. I just need you to know that. We’ve exhausted our resources here.”

  Simon remained silent, eyes fixed on David.

  “But she’s safe?” Linda asked.

  “No, Linda. She’s in a coma!”

  “I know, I just . . . I didn’t mean . . . Forgive me, David. I don’t mean to understate the seriousness of her situation. If we were talking about one of mine I’d be climbing the walls.” She turned to Simon. “I think taking her to Salt Lake is a perfectly reasonable course of action.”

  “It’s not that simple,” the Judge said. “Our bylaws strictly prohibit it. Not to mention we’re in a state of emergency here.”

  “My daughter’s in a state of emergency,” David bit off. “The situation is quite simple.”

  “No, it’s not. Denver’s next to go down, and that’s if we’re lucky. More likely, the power collapse is going to reach the West Coast sooner than anyone expects. When that happens, Salt Lake will be affected. Even if we made an exception, you might find Salt Lake without power.”

  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Hospitals have generators.”

  “Not if the attack’s an EMP.”

  “Like I said, I’ll accept that risk.”

  The Judge studied him, frowning.

  “I came because I respect and honor you and this valley,” David said. “But if I don’t see a change in Rachelle in the next two hours, I’ll have no choice but to take her.”

  “Everyone has a choice,” the Judge said. “You realize that if you do leave, you won’t be able to return. I for one find Rachelle a blessing. And you’re an indispensable member of our community. But I can’t just bend the rules for the sake of one.”

  Heat flashed up David’s neck, but he checked himself. “Please, Simon. Doesn’t Eden exist for our children?”

  “It does,” Linda said, eyeing Simon. “It most certainly does. And with our restrictions on childbirth, each child is our highest priority. Rachelle may be blind, but she’s more able-minded than any of her peers. I for one would support David’s case for Salt Lake.”