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Miah reflects and Duncan takes a detour. |
A half hour after Jake headed off to tend the lawns of Trinity and Jeremiah conquered his last breakfast dish Miah leaned back against the counter and gazed around the spacious, yet homey kitchen. There were memories here; some of their best were in his kitchen. Jake as a young boy of seven who was memorized by how Miah, a much younger specter of himself had tutored the boy on the many culinary wonders of the incredible edible egg; the hard boiled, the two minute, over easy, scrambled, the ever versatile omelet and the most wonderful egg of all, that of life. Their conversations over cooking lessons and breakfast were of the many memorable occasions the two grew their deep impenetrable bond. Jeremiah had instructed the boy in every facet of life, every scraped knee and moral contemplation taught a valuable life lesson on how to cope and perform the duties of a man. Hidden in his flair for weaving a good yarn on any subject he happened upon, he planted deep in Jake's subconscious, the knowledge he would need and through his birthright, usually acquired through a process of gestation. Miah had planted all the necessary seeds to prepare the boy for what he was now going to face. Preparations had to be made finally to tell him the truth and it weighed heavy in his heart, but time was running out. After all the years of careful planning to reverse a family obligation and failing, Jake's subliminal training would have to be enough. Jake's transition roughshod and years truant, now Jeremiah had to face a demon that nearly destroyed him as a man. For nineteen years, he knew not the love of a woman. There had been many women in his youth, but only one, a companion who shared a similar destiny and she was the only woman who had known his heart, Elizabeth Rothchilde. Jake was his life and his duty after Steven was lost to a plane crash in a small Cessna over the Swiss Alps. His wife, Cynthia and their eldest son, Jayden, accompanied him. Jake was only three at the time and too young for long flights and even longer layovers, so Gramp Miah leaped at the chance to spend two weeks with his youngest grandson. Jake had been his ward, his grandson, and his dearest friend ever since that fateful day their family was lost. Miah snapped out of his memory-induced haze and set off for the study, he had loose ends that needed tying and two demons that he needed to reconcile. He entered his office, which in reality was a grand Library of domed shape with rolling ladder for the harder to reach volumes; books lined the semi circle wall that encompassed a whole half of the two-story room from floor to sky lit ceiling. Tomes of worlds and times long lost; classics from Shakespeare, Lovecraft and Twain, every religion from the ancient to the ridiculous were accounted for, high adventure, romance and books so mysterious that they bore little resemblance to pages of the normal humans' eye. This was another place filled with memories of their history. The other half of the room curved around supported with thick oak columns separating six full-length arch shaped windows. The panes offered a view from east to west of the south end of his estate where both sunrise and sunset could be witnessed and were on many occasions by Jake and Miah. The heart of the room was the man himself, who when seated at his throne had commanded, instructed and carried on the family legacy. He sat down at the nineteenth century oak desk and opened the lowest left drawer. He pulled out an archaic sheet of amber hued parchment and laid it in front of him. Leaning back for a moment to gather his thoughts, lacing his fingers together in his lap, he closed his eyes and conjured his demon for reconciliation. Inhaling deep and blowing out hard his pride, he set to writing. My Dearest Elizabeth, It is with a heavy heart that I write you with this, my last letter. The decision we made long ago has left me a broken man, my only solace is in knowing that you had once, truly loved me. For I have never in nineteen years gone a single day or night without you in my thoughts and my dreams. You and only you, know why I did what I did, be it noble or foolish, I know not which, but now I am at the end of my days and I fear our sacrifice will have been for naught. A man is coming for me, a Bringer from the other side. They believe I am the last of the Lazarus line and with my best years behind me, ripe and vulnerable, the one that is coming is different from the others we have faced, he has amassed great powers, and he is the only true human to ever reach height of Tempest. I believe he was behind the incident in London five years ago, though now, he is stronger and he will keep coming until he gets what he's after, my Lifeflow. When he comes, he will discover Jake. I will search this Bringer out for as long as I can before I pass my legacy to Jake, then I will forsake this world and leave nothing for him to take back. I have arranged it so Jake will be ready when the time comes. I always knew this one of the possibilities and thus, through the years, I have planted the seed in Jake so he would never be defenseless. His cycle of gestation may be longer, days, maybe weeks, but in the end, he will become a Guardian after all. For all that we have done, our love was the sacrifice to protect him from this duty bequeathed to our families and now he will be thrown into the storm blind. Once again, I offer you my heart, my eternal love and Jake, to shelter, embrace and protect. I have missed you so, my darling Beth. My lust for female companionship of any kind died the day we made our pact and said goodbye. There has only been you Elizabeth Rothchilde, you are my eternal love. The days on this earth that we shared together were for the ages, our adventures together, we were a great team and did good work for the world. I am so sorry of the sacrifice I burdened with you, yet so joyful to have loved a woman who could give so much of herself. And for that, I thank you. Goodbye my dear sweet Elizabeth, teach Jake what he needs to become and explain to him that we did it, for him. Yours eternally, Jeremiah Lazarus He folded the parchment with two hands placed atop as he slid the paper to the center of the desk, he fell back into the plush of his leather chair and wept. ***** Jake set off on his normal Monday morning routine, but he didn't feel normal. He couldn't put his finger on what was different, he felt fine, check. Looked ok; check and breakfast with Gramp Miah; check. This was going to bother him. Like when you can't remember the name of a movie or song and then you get obsessed, asking anyone in your vicinity or searching frantically on Goggle until you find resolution. Jake let things get to him. Not in a bad way, he didn't get hostile or agitated or not knock twice and take four steps back kind of way. Things just gnawed at his periphery like a bad smell you can't escape. He pushed it away for now and pulled into his spot between Gramp Miah and Amanda Cupacak's, Gramp's secretary and dear friend of thirty plus years. He got out of his modest white 2002 Nissan and traversed the four steps leading up to Lazarus Lawn and Garden Beatification. Jeremiah Lazarus had built his business as a boy of fifteen with an old rotary push mower from one neighbor's lawn to the whole block, then town on to county and finally the northern half of the state. Now with one hundred and two employees it's the most successful landscaping business in California. He did everything from watered lawns to in ground swimming pools for condominiums and REC centers. He entered the main double glass doors through the showroom saying Good morning to Sam Rosen, a fifteen-year guy and dear friend of Jeremiahs' that coordinated Trinity County. Sam handed off the morning paper,a ritual eight years running and gave Jake a pat on the back as he past. He walked into the office he shared with Miah and waved toward Amanda who was busy on the phone. Amanda Cupacak was pleasing to look at even at fifty-five, she was still a "pistol" as Jeremiah liked to say. She had warm brown eyes and gentle features. She wore her cream brown hair pulled back in a pony tail, her figure showed the usual signs of a woman her age, yet she could still turn heads at the bowling alley on Saturday nights. Her bubbly personality had not changed since the first day she started at the company, however before that day things were very different. She liked to say, "Fate sent my guardian angel, Jeremiah to rescue me." One night thirty three years ago at Buford's pub where Amanda Bertone was a regular; she had been roughed up pretty bad by a low life she was dating at the time. Jeremiah was at the bar that particular night with two men from his company celebrating a new contract with the county when he witnessed the low life tosses his drink into Amanda's already bruised face. The men he was with told Miah that the girl was no good and he shouldn't get involved. Jeremiah Lazarus drained his scotch then tossed a fifty on the bar and dismissed the men for the night. The men looked at each other, shook their heads and exited. Jeremiah walked over to Amanda and stepped between her and the brute, ignoring him. He handed her his card and said, "My dear, my name is Jeremiah Lazarus. I own a business here in town. Please take my card, go home and get some sleep, then tomorrow you give me a call and we'll get you on the right track. You are a stunning woman and no woman deserves this kind of treatment, find a man worthy of your beauty, this one won't be troubling you again." He turned keeping his back to the now ranting brute and outstretched his arm gesturing her toward the door he said, "Please dear, I'll take care of this." Amanda cowered from the screaming low life as she headed out the door of Buford's Pub for the last time. Jeremiah turned on the man reaching with one hand gripping the man's neck and the other clamped on his berries; he drove the man back, clearing bodies from his path until he reached the nearest corner, his back to the growing crowd. He drew nose-to-nose smelling bad teeth and old beer; he bore through the slug's eyes with his gaze reaching beyond them, and into his polluted mind. What the low life saw in Jeremiah's eyes terrified him. Lightning danced around Miah's irises as his pupils turned reflective like mirrors, and it was there that sluggo saw a glimpse of his true self. A rotted and blackened husk; which bore his likeness stared back at him and with that; his bladder released down the front of his jeans. He would not remember what he saw in those few seconds; nor would he recall, ever knowing Amanda Bertone. Jeremiah had erased all memories of her from his mind. He released sluggo and let him slide down the wall where he sat dazed and limp. No one saw what transpired between the two and even if they did, they would have thought it was the chokehold and left it at that. No one said a word to Jeremiah as he exited the bar; they cleared a path and erupted into applause. Amanda didn't call the next morning; she showed up at seven a.m. a full hour before the doors opened on the new Lazarus Beautification building. Jeremiah was there waiting. He took her for breakfast and over pancakes and biscuits, they introduced and acquainted themselves. At the end of the meal, she was his employee and new friend. She never asked him what happened after she left Buford's and she didn't have to, because she came to know over time that Jeremiah Lazarus was the kindest most caring man she had ever met, but he was also a man not to be trifled with. Miah had sent her for two weeks to Las Vegas with a purse full of cash to commemorate her first year with the company. She had hit big, very big, her first night then she partied like a queen for the next ten days until she lost all but three hundred to get through the last three days. Jeremiah had sent her off to exotic corners of the world every year since, but Amanda always refers to her vacation in Las Vegas as the time of her life. Five years later, she had met Arnold Cupacak, widowed six months previous, who had come to the office looking to get sod and stones for his new house. From that day on, they were inseparable and got married three years later. Jeremiah gave her away and paid for the wedding as well as the honeymoon in Italy. Amanda hung up the phone and came around her desk to embrace the young Lazarus, planting a screeching smooch on his cheek she cracked, "Oooh, if you were twenty years older I would leave my Arnie and take you to Vegas." "That's not fair, I'd take you right now if I didn't like Arnie so much," he bantered. "Is the almighty going to make an appearance today or will I have to suffer another day?" Amanda asked with a smile. "I'm afraid you'll have to endure my dear. He told me he had things to take care of with Lou today, but you have me until noon then I'll be off to the Carson place to put in a pond. Can you pull the file and ask Jim to load my truck?" he begged and gave her the sad puppy eyes. "Do you want Miguel or Tony to go with you?" she asked, then thought better of it and shook her head. "No, never mind, I know you like to do it yourself; The Lone Ranger is going it alone." With that she circled her hand in the air and yelped, "Hi ho Silver, away!" They both laughed then set about the business of the day. When Jake sat at his desk he went over the stack of orders and jobs for the week, he got that unsettling feeling again, something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on what. He'd just have to get on with his day and hope it would come to him before it drove him mad. Chapter Five Alive! Herman felt alive. After being recruited earlier in the night, the new Herman Duncan became euphoric and obsessed with his new mission: bring Susie to a portal as a Bringer for The Council. Gerous had said very little to him verbally but in the brief moment that he invaded Herman's head, he planted precise instructions of what was expected of him. He didn't want to screw up. He remembered how Gerous had dispatched his Mama and a force that powerful was not to be taken lightly. Herman was going to go by Gerous's book because he wanted to make a good first impression. This was his new lease on life and the possibilities were abundant. As Herman drove toward Huntington Beach via Longwood Boulevard, he stared little Susie up and down through the rear view mirror. Rogue thoughts raced through his head, but he quickly shook them loose. What he was thinking wasn't good and if Gerous caught him, he would be as dead as Mama. Still...the thought of going off course before reaching the destination got his juices flowing and his heart pumping. "I could get away with it," he mumbled to himself as he reached behind the seat to touch the little girl's leg. She recoiled from his touch. "If you'd just behave, I wouldn't have to keep you tied up," he said to her. Herman felt like a thousand pounds weighed down on him from the pressure and indecision; he wanted this over quickly. The problem was just looking at her was making him hard. He tried to put those thoughts out of his mind as he pressed down harder on the accelerator to speed things along. Susie was trying to get the ropes off her hands, but he tied it too tight for her. She then tried to push the foul smelling towel closer to her front teeth with her tongue, but she wasn't getting anywhere. Herman shot her a quick look when he heard her moving around; she was twisting around trying to get loose. He had made his decision as he glanced back through the rear view mirror; the throbbing in his pants needed release. "You're mine for the next twenty minutes little Ms. Susie and what Gerous doesn't know, won't hurt me. Do you like games?" He laughed as he drove down the boulevard. He knew just the spot; it was close and only a minor detour. Herman licked his lips just thinking of what he was going to do to Little Miss Susie Sunshine. His palms started to sweat just thinking about forcing her to go down on him. He knew that he wasn't supposed to put a mark on her but Gerous never said anything about her putting a mark on him. Herman pulled into the parking area and drove to the south end, farthest from the entrance. It was an old drive- in theater lot, overgrown and undeveloped since it's closing in the late 70's. Screen 1 had entertained thousands of families a week; now gave way to a densely wooded plot of oaks and brush six- square acres in total. Only two overhead lamps remained intact, leaving the area dim, but visible. He pulled close to the tree line and turned off the engine and lights. He turned to Susie who was crying. He could see that she was scared but he didn't care. He was going to get something for his troubles and he was going to enjoy his newfound freedom. He wasn't going to turn Susie over to Gerous without a little taste, not after all he'd been through tonight. When he turned off the car, he reached over the seat and started to remove the gag from Susie's mouth. He saw that the rope had left red marks at the corners of her mouth. He rubbed her cheeks trying to get the mark off, but they were chaffed; the damage was done. "It's all your fault, look what you've done!" he yelled. This made Susie cringe and push further away, angering Herman even more. He snarled at her; spittle dripping from his clenched teeth and then pulled her out of the car and into the dark of the woods. He was five paces into the trees when he heard a low growling sound. "A stray," he said to no one but himself. He started to walk further into the woods to where the ground started to slope down to a small chasm that ran parallel to the pavement of the lot above. He heard the growl again, only this time it was closer to his right. Herman swung around so abruptly that he tripped and fell, tumbling a few feet down the slope; he came to a stop in a sitting position. He shook his head and looked up, staring into the breath of a hungry growl dripping with excitement. A large black Rottweiler crouched at the ready between Herman's feet; accompanied by two smaller Rottys' sitting on either side of the leader. Susie didn't hesitate, she turned and ran back the way she came. The companion dogs sprang from their posts toward the fleeing Susie. She sprinted toward the clearing with the angry canines' at her heels. Susie wanted her mommy. She was scared and alone. If she could only get to the car, maybe that bad Mr. Herman from across the street would be eaten and they won't be hungry for her anymore. As panic set in, a man stepped into, her path and she stopped abruptly and stumbled into his out stretched hands... The black shadow stood towering before her silhouetted by the full-lit moon at his back. "Sit," commanded the boogieman. The two dogs trotted from behind Susie and sat obediently at his heel. "Don't worry my dear, they won't hurt you," he said in a low hush. "They're friends and I am your friend. Why don't you pet them, you'll see, they're quite pleasant." She looked from the shadow man, then to the dog. She reached out with her hand to the panting Sophie, and as if on cue, the dog began licking her hand eagerly, nudging closer. "Now stay here with Sophie," he gestured to the pup on his left; "and Dmitri." Now patting the pup on his right. "I need to have a word with Mr. Duncan, okay? This will only take a moment." He placed his hand on her head and walked a few paces toward Herman who sat motionless under the watch of the snarling Queenie. He stepped into his protégé's view and looked down despairingly at him, shaking his head. "Herman, Herman, Herman, you have sorely disappointed me. I have great things in store for you, but it seems you have a problem following directions. Now, what am I to do with you?" Gerous asked. "I wasn't going to hurt her; I just wanted a little taste, just a taste. It's not fair. Call this dog off for Christ sake," Herman cried as the Queenie began snapping inches from his nose. Gerous smiled at Hermie's fright and scowled. "No, I think a lesson is in order. In the future when you are given instructions, you will follow them to the letter. Is that understood?" Gerous snapped his head forward and took an imaginary bite, taking in only air. Before Herman could scream out a plea, Queenie lunged forward and clamped down deep between his legs. "You've got great promise, so just this once, I'm going to go easy on you, only one," he directed. Herman's eyes went wide in horror as the dog released and took a fresh bite. Thrashing his head hard to the right and sharply to the left, Queenie pulled away, tearing one of Herman's testicles free from his sack. Herman lay balled up in the back seat of his Taurus, using the gag previously in Susie's mouth to apply pressure to his ruined groin. "Ironic don't you think Herman?" Gerous announced from the driver's seat. You have what you wanted after all, though I suspect, not how you had imagined. Nevertheless, things have a way of working out in the end. Don't you think?" Herman saw no humor in this as Gerous let out a hideous laugh, enjoying the mockery. Now he began to realize this man's powers were far reaching. Gerous knew every move Herman made; from the second he touched his mind, to his spur of the moment detour with Susie and his naughty intentions. He would have to be mindful of this in the future; one nut was enough. Susie sat in the passenger seat next to the boogieman. This was a bad man, she thought. Worse than Mr. Duncan and even though he was much nicer to her when he spoke, she knew. Susie didn't know what to make of her situation, she was frightened and confused, she just wanted to be back in her bed, hugging mommy. Who was this man and why did Mr. Duncan tie her up and that dirty rag in her mouth. Why did he take her away from her home? Where were Mommy and Daddy? She didn't want to talk to these men, but she had to find out. Susie turned to look at the bad man and whimpered, "Can I go home soon? I want my mommy and daddy. I'm scared." Dan Gerous smiled and proposed, "You have won a lottery of sorts. You see Susie, you have been chosen from millions of people because you are very special. I am taking you to claim your prize. That is all for now, you will know everything you need to know in a few minutes." He paused, staring dead ahead and said," forever." After a few seconds of silence."Now Herman," Gerous began. "Listen carefully. I don't want to repeat myself. Your escapades this night have made you a wanted man, it was unavoidable and it is how things are now. You have been reborn, so no whining. You have been chosen to do important work for my benefactors and these tasks will give you opportunities, like earlier this evening. When you are given specific instructions, they are not negotiable. I hope you have learned this. When we get to the Portal, there will be no turning back. No more Herman Duncan, shipping clerk. You will be a Bringer for the Council." Herman didn't know what a Bringer was, but he was getting the idea. And even though he was short half his beanbag, he wasn't resentful of it; he understood that he disobeyed and he was punished. This made complete sense even though it shouldn't have. Ever since his goal scoring kick to his bitch mother and his delicious time with Penny and James Wall, he felt incredible. The feeling of euphoria he experienced from the fear as he took their last breath; was exhilarating beyond anything he has ever known. He wanted more. "You will have new residence on the Otherside. This plane that you have called home, will welcome you no more. You cannot leave from your new home, but you can come back and often, to fulfill tasks much like tonight. Does this please you Herman?" Gerous asked, already knowing his answer. Herman Duncan was sitting now; both hands still pressed on his groin. He smiled and replied, "Very much so, Mr. Gerous, very much." Gerous looked through the rear view and said, "From now forward you can address me as Tempest Gerous. I think you've earned it, now let's get that nasty wound attended to." He pulled into the drive of the Huntington penthouse and announced, "Miss Susie, would you like to take a walk on the beach? It's very beautiful under the moonlight. Herman, try and keep up." He touched her bare shoulder and then she looked into his eyes and fell under his spell. Gerous walked around the beach house holding little Susie's hand swinging playfully as Herman shuffled a few steps behind in agony. As they came to a stop a hundred or so feet from the beachfront of the penthouse, Gerous queried, "Do you see Herman, do you see the rift?" He did. A swirling current of gray and amber smoke revolved inward from the outer rim towards its black center. At seven feet in diameter, it floated inches above the beach, rousing the sand beneath it. "This is one of your new gifts Herman. You can now see the Portals, while the rest of the world cannot." Gerous instructed. "I don't see anything," Susie added. "You will dear, you will. Herman, you have the honor of going first. It's a bit unnerving at the start, but quite exhilarating. Go on, Susie and I will follow," Gerous said as he stepped aside and outstretched his arm. "Shall we go?" One by one, they stepped through the portico to the realm of the Unforgiving. Chapter Six Measures Jake got off to a late start from the office. Monday’s were particularly hectic due in part to follow- up calls accumulated over the weekends. He had just finished two consecutive whack and mow jobs; now a little after three- thirty, he was on his way to the Carson’s. As the V.P. of Lazarus Lawn and Garden, Jake has the flexibility to work jobs of his choosing in the field or take the less physical path and tend to managerial tasks in the office. Most upper management of large businesses never ventures into the field; much less get their hands dirty with menial tasks. LLG was the exception to that rule. Jeremiah, when not out of town attending meetings and contract negotiations, spent almost all of his hours with his men working on properties. Jake revered his grandfather in every regard and when it came to getting his elbows deep in it, Miah’s mentoring on the importance of hard work was never forgotten. Jake had learned from his grandfather to love the simple things in life. To enjoy the beauty of the earth they had built a career of nurturing. Since as far back as Jake could remember Jeremiah had instilled in him the philosophy by which he led his life. Jake could hear his grandfather’s narrative at will and called upon it often. Every moment in life can be extraordinary if you open your eyes to the miracles that surround you my boy. Appreciate all living things and their place in this world. No one thing or person should ever be so arrogant or so powerful as to believe they are above others, by right or cause. Jake turned right at 235 Marion Boulevard on to the winding drive of Eloise Carson’s sprawling estate. He parked the van close to the gate that led to the back of the two-acre property. He propped the gate open with a spare cinder block and he began unloading his equipment. It took only three trips with the aid of the wheelbarrow: one for his tools, the second for the vinyl and filtration kit. On this third pass, he grabbed his backpack, removed the block, and placed it in the van and then locked up. Amanda had sent Tony and Miguel ahead earlier in the morning to deliver the stones. He would have to remember to pick her up a pack of Twinkie’s on his way in tomorrow; Mandy loved those things. Jake prepared two sets of halogen light stands around the designated spot as he anticipated working well after sunset. He began laying out his tools and materials in the order that would be most efficient. He was meticulous in his preparation, a trait that drew playful mocking from his co-workers. Even as they joked and ribbed him, they knew he was always prepared and without exception, the best worker at the company. For that, Jake was well respected and adored like his grandfather. Jake took one last look at the schematics. He checked the location of the electrical service and the water routing and then he got to work. As he shoveled the first patch of sod into the wheelbarrow, the gnawing feeling returned. This time it was accompanied by a burst of adrenaline. He paused, taking in a deep breath. He shook it off and continued digging. He began dissecting the morning in his head. The moment he first remembered feeling not quite right, to the catalyst, whatever that was. His biceps started to burn, his back and legs tightening as his body fell into rhythm. Push, lift, toss, push, lift, and toss. After only a minute at his fevered pace he had filled the barrow to capacity with half the areas’ sod. Depending on the job, half the time he would have to dispose of the removed earth, but other times like this job it would be redistributed elsewhere on the property. He wheeled twenty yards to where the Carson land bordered state land and dumped his load. Breakfast with Miah, he thought. Nothing unusual; talk of destiny and dreams, a little out of the ordinary but it didn’t explain what he was feeling. Back to work. # In the library, Jeremiah sat in his reading chair with a cognac in one hand and as of yet unlit Bolivar Cuban cigar perched in the ashtray on the table to his left. He wore his monogrammed smoking jacket that until now had been retired for nineteen years, not since the high days and the last Gathering with the Guardians. It was on these occasions that many of the elder in their ranks ritually wore such garments while boasting of adventure and falling in love with debutantes and woman of unearthly beauty. Tonight was different. Tonight he would need to call upon his powers and take the mantle of Guardian one last time. Over the nineteen long years, friends in need and the occasional Portal discovery that required closure had called upon him. As Guardian, he would never turn face from his duty. Nevertheless, when Jake became his ward he made the decision to cease active involvement and end the Families line in the Guardians of the Eldest. Centuries of battle amid the righteous and the damned, hope, and life enveloped in darkness. Loved ones lost to the eternal horrors of the Unforgiving. Jeremiah had sworn off this future for the last surviving Lazarus, his greatest treasure and the foundation of his pride, his Grandson Jake. He went over his preparations one last time in his head. The Tempest was close now, Jeremiah could feel him and nothing could be left to chance. He delivered his package with precise instructions to his long time friend and Attorney, Lou Avella. Lou was unsettled by Jeremiah’s unexpected appearance. He never showed up unannounced and always scheduled accordingly. When Miah revealed his intentions and handed over his package, Lou fell back into his chair and stared for a long moment at the manila envelope in his lap. Not knowing what to make of it, he asked, “Jeremiah, you already have a will drawn up. What’s in the envelope, why so urgent? What’s this all about?” Jeremiah smiled at his old friends as he stood up and walked over to the window to soak in the beauty of the day, he replied, “Not all things are as they seem Louis.” Miah paused and then turned to face him. “We have been friends for nineteen years, now I am asking you to trust me.” Lou broke in, “You know I trust you but this is out of sorts, even for you Jeremiah.” “That package you hold is crucial to Jake’s future and the Lazarus legacy. Upon my death, it is vital to carry out the instructions of the cover letter directly. Do you understand Lou? Directly.” “Yes, I understand but I wish you would tell me what this is about,” Lou pleaded. It’s safer for you this way,” Miah said. “Now where do I sign?” As he shook his friend’s hand to leave, he pulled him into embrace and said, “Don’t worry dear friend, I know exactly where and when I’m departing, you just take care of Amelia and Vincent and give them my love.” Jeremiah drained his glass and poured a fresh one. Returning the bottle, he picked up the cigar and inhaled the bouquet of Cuba. Closing his eyes, he savored the moment then he clipped the end, wetted it between his lips, and smoked his last cigar. Very close now. The Tempest draws near and soon he would begin the Passing. # Jake laid the last stone of the perimeter before sitting down to take a break. The muscles in his arms, legs, and lower back burned from lifting and bending; the complete workout. He felt like he could go all night; he was in exceptional shape, but tonight he felt like a machine, well oiled and flawless. He didn’t smoke or take drugs of any kind and never would. The occasional brandy with Miah was as close as he got to abusing his temple and never in excess. Jeremiah had taught him at a very young age that his body was a miracle of science and though we understand its workings; the origins of the human body remains, the greatest of mysteries. As he gulped his Poland Spring and swept his forearm across his brow to wipe the sweat away, he returned to the mystery. Over and again, he ran the day’s events through his mind. Nothing; was the conclusion he came to, zero. No radioactive spider bite, no exposure to Gamma Rays, he thought and then chuckled aloud. Yet he felt good, almost too good, perfect in fact. He drained the bottle, dropped it into his backpack, and began placing the stones to compliment the waterfall. The dream was the one unknown. He lived with it most of his life as an afterthought, much the way most people take for granted the rising and setting of the late day sun. For Jake it was always present and therefore normal, but was it? The way it built upon itself, showing him new details with each visit. At thirteen, his first view was of the perfect powder blue sky void of clouds or sun. As the days turned to weeks, returning with no particular pattern; the clouds and sun became staples, as did the snow capped mountains and the centerpiece; the cabin. What did it all mean? Did it have relevance at all? He pondered as his body worked without his guidance placing stones precisely where needed while his mind deciphered the puzzle. The door. It all revolved around the blackened door. Then as if turning a key to release the lock, he knew. He stopped cold at the revelation. Finally, he knew. However, in place of the answered question, a new one arose. Why? What did it have to do with how he was feeling? Of the many travels to his picturesque reverie, he had never before this morning, opened the door. # The beast clawed at the gate seeking sustenance, nay for nourishment, but for supremacy, Miah thought as his eyes swept the volumes surrounding him. An old friend named Sebastian Chamberlin; a Guardian who hailed from England came to mind. Back in the eighties, he wrote the novel, The Beast behind Closed Doors. It revolved around a nasty adventure of his that he passed off as fiction to the mainstream. It didn’t make him a brand name in literary circles but was quite the page-turner nonetheless and an apt excerpt from his book for the evening. Jeremiah felt his presence. He was here at last and it was time. He rose from the chair and walked a few paces to the arched window. Joining his hands behind him, he gazed at the face of the full moon. With his back to the library door, he puffed plumes of smoke from the cigar clenched between his teeth, waiting. Gerous smiled, tonight would give birth to his true legacy. A prophesy shall be scribed in blood. He will become of both worlds and thus, the most powerful either realm has ever seen. He was sent to retrieve the old man and bring him back alive. Jeremiah Lazarus had once been a Guardian of reckoning. He had seen the man in London at a distance a few years prior, but his reputation preceded him. A great leader of men, hailed for his conquest of Portals and his valiance in battle. Ferocious redeemer and slayer of Bringers, a man to be respected. That was before the last of the Lazarus went into hiding over nineteen years ago. Appearing for a short time and then disappearing again for years at a time, until a week ago. A Bringer on a mission in Sacramento witnessed the old man who was on a business trip and reported the sighting to Gerous. The Reichrath was very pleased to have a sighting of the Guardian Jeremiah. The possibility of capturing him, even at his age would prove to be very fruitful. They dispatched a dozen Bringers and passed word to the surrounding Messengers within a hundred miles of his spotted location. Find him and report to Tempest Gerous. The problem was, Gerous had tapped into the Reichrath archives, and now he stood at the threshold of his Destiny. His actions tonight would shatter the hierarchy and redefine the two factions forever. He wasn’t bringing the old man back to the Reichrath, he was going to kill him and claim his due by consuming the Lifeflow of Jeremiah Lazarus. Chapter Seven The Passing I know not why you linger Tempest, come in. I have been expecting you,” Jeremiah announced. A wintery chill filled the air as the door swept open. Gerous scanned the room before he stepped into the Lazarus library. “Quite an impressive collection you have old man; very,” he paused, “very eclectic.” Jeremiah turned to face the demon at last. Sizing him up he couldn’t help but feel a tugging at the boundaries of his memory. He had never seen this particular Bringer before, yet he was familiar somehow. Gerous broke the silence. “You’re very keen old man. How do you know I am a Tempest?” Miah smiled at this and replied, “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve after all these years and I’ve kept my senses in tune while,” he thought for a second, “on the down low. Isn’t that what their saying these days?” “I believe you’re close, though I don’t spend my time with beings that use such grammar. It’s quite unnecessary, don’t you think?” Gerous asked, not expecting an answer. He walked a few paces. “Now enough with the preamble, let’s get to it shall we?” Jeremiah nodded his head in agreement, never leaving the demons gaze. Gerous grinned and asked, “Do you know me old man?” “I know you; you’re the Tempest who’s come for my Flow. Your master’s want my powers and you’re the lap dog sent to fetch the stick,” Miah rebuffed. “Yes, but they believe me to be naïve. They have faith that I have forgotten my heritage. You see, I know the truth and with your unintentional death, I will become of both worlds.” At this, Dan could see the old man was piecing together the possibilities and recognition. Jeremiah shook his head, still mulling the thought. He stammered, “There, there is only one scenario for that prophecy to be written and that’s impossible.” Jeremiah Lazarus searched the fiends’ eyes and at once, he saw it. Gerous was…. His head began to splinter, almost shatter as he cried out in soul tearing agony, “No…” Gerous stood before Jeremiah and replied, “Yes old man, yes.” Miah pulled himself back from the brink and thought about how this new revelation changed how he was to proceed. He decided it didn’t. He approached the Tempest, stopping short the distance of a hand shake and proclaimed. “You may believe you have what you came for. Nevertheless, you see I too have a secret. You will not leave tonight with your prize. However, your eagerness for power will thrust you into a foul communion with your masters for your betrayal.” “We shall see Gramp’s, we shall see,” Gerous growled. As he snapped his arms out and downward, fingers spread and palms up as if perched to catch a phantom. Lightning charged, building intensity it crackled and raced over his body. Igniting, he gave birth to a storm that enveloped the library. Miah stood his ground calling on powers long dormant, hoping with all his heart, they would be enough to destroy the evil that stared him down. Amidst swirling text and torn pages the two titans battled, the old and the new orders of good versus evil. Thunder roared and bolts of blue energy shattered the night outside the domed annex of the Lazarus estate. Gerous shot a searing telekinetic spike into Jeremiah’s brain, attacking his power source. Miah clamped down at the point of attack, breaking the bolt and giving him the opening he wanted. He grabbed the Bringer’s throat, clamping down hard. He drew strength from his depths, raising the demon off his feet and threw him back into the shelved walls. Crashing hard, the books rained down from the highest reaches. He scrambled from the pour and whipped his arms violently in succession, gesturing random tomes into flight, with the power of his mind. He launched volume after volume hurling through the chaos like missiles at the Guardian. Miah easily parried the hardbound editions at first, until Gerous ran his fingers over a dozen or so, igniting them aflame and continuing the onslaught. The burning tomes seared and burned Miah, engulfing his jacket in hellfire. As he staggered and wrestled to pull the coat free from his charring flesh, he crumbled in a heap as Gerous stalked toward his prey determined. A single tear of blood breached the corners of each eye as he set forth all the power he possessed in a final attempt to break Jeremiah Lazarus’s defenses. Smoke and ember filled the air and the library was ablaze. Flaming pages and cinder misted the once grand room. Wounded and weak, the Guardian raised to one knee spitting out ash. He focused and readied for the coming assault. The time had come; he could give the demon a good fight, but in the end, he would fall. Of this, there was no doubt in Jeremiah’s mind. This Tempest was strong, the most powerful he had ever encountered, and he was old; his endurance not what it once was. He had known it would come to this. All the preparation and the year’s long charades were to climax here tonight. He needed his strength and lucidity for a successful Passing. Jake’s life depended on it and that was more important than getting a few good shots in for ego’s sake. One good strike to wound his enemy then he would pass on his family’s legacy and leave this world for the next. Gerous towered over the Guardian, smiling demonically, smug and sure the outcome of the night’s events. “How does it feel Gramp, to know your death will write a new chapter of our history? To be the catalyst that joins our two factions as one… Well?” He asked as he stood there and stared. Jeremiah raised his head to meet the familiar red soaked eyes and said, “I am proud indeed to pass my Guardianship to the next in my line. Nevertheless, you do not understand what that means and that will be your undoing. I am sad to see that you have survived to become a vessel for evil. Had I known, I would’ve done everything in my power to have saved you. For that, I am sorry. But your abandonment changes your ascendance and for that I am grateful, now it is time you have a taste of your own foul medicine.” Miah’s eyes rolled back, turning reflective as he reached out with the speed of a gunslinger on the draw and seized Gerous’s hand. His iron grip freezing Gerous long enough to enter the black cauldron of the Bringers mind. Once inside he unloaded with all the power he could spare to freeze him with horror as Gerous saw through the mirrored pupils; his own true self. A mottled ghoul in crimson, oozing puss from open fistulas that devoured his real world features. Releasing his hold, Miah reached out to the left then to the right and with the strength of twenty men, he tore the large columns from the framework, collapsing the wall framing the windows. Using only his will, he pulled with all his might, whipping the wooden pillars on a collision course toward the Tempest. One sailed high as Gerous stumbled out of his visions’ hold but the other hit true, sending him crashing into the empty shelves. Thunder roared through the night as a bolt of lightning shattered the domed roof showering the once grand room with wood, plaster, and rain from the incoming pour. Jeremiah turned and raised his arms up toward the fissure to accept his fate. # Jake stood in the empty pond bewildered. Not sure, what the revelation had to do with how he was feeling, somehow, he knew it did. Thunder boomed in the distance and a second later, the night sky lit up bringing with it a steady down pour. He raised his head and opened his mouth welcoming the drops of cool water to refresh his overheated body. A few more stones to place and he was finished. Tomorrow he would come back make the hose connections and fill the pool. Had he actually experienced the blinding sensory overload when he turned the knob and the door flew open? Was it possible? Did it have something to do with how he was feeling? He didn’t understand how the events in a dream could feel so real, much less cross over to the real world. What did it all mean? He began to gather his tools; he had done all he could do tonight and the storm was getting worse. A bolt of silver crashed close by not more than a mile away. # “I’m sorry Jake. I didn’t want this for you. They will come for you. This is your calling, your destiny. I hope you can forgive me. Too not pass on your legacy would mean your certain death and I could never forgive myself for that. I love you son.” With his last words said in confession, Jeremiah began the Passing. The Lazarus library was a smoldering battlefield. The walls and shelving lie in ruin, the domed crown destroyed. Small fires lingered and scattered, most snuffed out and left smoldering by the heavy torrent now flooding the room. The tempest raging through Providence that night would be a mystery to every meteorologist and forecaster in California the following morning and in years to come, as no storms were forecast for the week. Throughout history, similar storms and natural occurrences were recorded, but the true catalysts were never discovered. Jeremiah called upon the lightning to receive him and deliver providence unto Jake. With a boom and a deafening roar, lightning struck Jeremiah, entombing his body in current and dancing blue light. Unlike a normal strike, the bolt remained, pulsing and erratic. Suspended from the heavens, it downloaded from its host, Jeremiah. Gerous lay wounded and broken, roused from the display illuminating the room. “No! What are you doing? It’s mine!” he bellowed. Trying to scramble from beneath the oak column that pinned him between floor and shelving, his broken ribs alerted him to tread carefully. Gerous relaxed his body and concentrated on channeling into the Passing. He had to find the recipient of the Guardian’s flow. He didn’t understand how the old man could redirect his powers; it was his right of ascension. Gerous opened himself to the flow of energy. In an attempt to join the Flow, he was not fed, but rejected outright. Rewarded only with an electrical shock, rendering him paralyzed and numb. # The torrent came in abrupt sheets and quickly raised the water level in the pond. On his final trip back from the van to retrieve the last of his equipment, Jake noticed the pool now overflowed with the fresh rainwater. He rolled up the extension cord and retracted the legs on the last halogen light stand, grabbing both in his hand and turned to take a last look at his work. Jake looked over his stone placement. Pleased with the arrangement, he once again tilted his head back to soak in the wet. He closed his eyes and exhaled; lost in thought over his newfound awareness when destiny rode down from the heavens and shattered his world. A trident of electricity struck Jake, illuminating him in an amber hue that consumed his entire body. Unlike Jeremiah, the charge didn’t linger. It struck, raising him a foot off the ground for a few seconds before releasing him to a dead weight drop back to the muddied earth, lifeless. # The electrical chain released its hold and as dramatically as it appeared; it folded back into the night. Jeremiah lay crumbled amid the ruin; drained of his remaining Lifeflow and the Passing complete, he smiled. Closing his eyes and freeing his last breath, Jeremiah Lazarus welcomed eternity. # His motor functions returned in a whip and so too, the palpability of the transpired events. Gerous was helpless to intervene and now his plans fell, wasted and in decay. He motioned his free hand over his trapped body and raised the pillar long enough to roll out from beneath it. Badly wounded from the assault, he calculated three fractured ribs, and his shoulder hung unresponsive. The old man put up a fierce fight and now realized he’d been outmaneuvered. Lazarus held back, reserving his powers for the crippling strike, leaving him time to perform the Passing. The Guardian knew he was coming and had planned to die tonight, but to whom did he give his powers too and how? The answer would be in the house somewhere. He didn’t have much time and was in no shape to do a thorough search; he would need to cross over soon to heal. Gerous staggered over to the Guardian and knelt next to his body. Miah lay broken amid the debris, his limbs awkward, and his soul empty. A mocking smile crossed his lips. “Who are you hiding old man? Where did you send my Flow?” he asked in a hushed tone as his eyes swept over Jeremiah’s body. His anger simmered at a low boil as he lowered his head and whispered in the Guardians ear, “I’m going to kill everyone you’ve ever set eyes on for what’s been denied me you rotting fuck.” Unable to control his fury any longer, he hammered down with both fists, pounding his enemy’s chest repeatedly snapping bone and pulverizing the organs that lay beneath. Fresh, cooling blood began to erupt from the dead Miah’s mouth and nose. Gerous’ broken ribs and shoulder raged, crippling him with excruciating pain; he fell back clutching his side. Taking in labored breaths and blowing out hard gasps of blood and spittle that stirred the ash littered floor. He stared out in a haze at the wreckage trying to regain his composure when he saw it. Partially hidden behind an upturned book beside the antique desk was a photo in a shattered wood frame. Willing himself back to his feet was a daunting task but once upright, he had purpose. He staggered over and retrieved the photograph from the floor. He stared at it in disbelief; what he saw shook his soul. |
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