Bright Star (30 page)

“I figure she must like me okay since she let me get her pregnant.” Monk smiled wide, barely able to contain his happiness.

“Oh,” was all Jackson could muster. Then, a flagging, “Congratulations.”

“Just because she is devoted to that one…” Monk motioned to Rush. “Does not mean she can’t love me or have desires other than forcing him to see the light.”

Rush rolled his eyes. “And on that note…” Rush pushed himself away from the refrigerator and started out of the room.

Rush stopped in the doorway to offer what sounded like a damnably genuine, enthusiastic, “Congratulations to the both of you.”

“He runs from me,” Monk grinned. “I don’t understand it. He doesn’t like the Followers. Not one bit. And they show him the proper respect and deference. He doesn’t like Bright Star and she has placed her soul beneath his feet. Me, I treat him like my next door neighbor, and he doesn’t like me, either. But he likes you.” He pointed at Jackson. “And that I’ll never figure out.”

Both brothers barked laughter at that outrageous statement. Monk had a way about him that made everyone laugh. He could release some of the tension by making them all, even Rush, take themselves a little less seriously. And yet, he always asked the profound questions, forcing them to think about their actions. Jackson could never see him as Thaddeus again. Not the good natured physicist. Not the man who could be turned into a violent beast just from exposure to an unimpressive, insubstantial pebble. He had always been Monk.

Jackson’s smile settled, though, and he watched his brother. It had only been three months since the day the Followers died. In that time, their number had tripled in the compound which had also grown exponentially in the same amount of time. They all knew of the deaths. Jackson knew that they would all willingly die as well. It was a matter of Rush’s will.

Bright Star’s will,
Rush’s voice resonated from inside his head. Then, Jackson’s brother left the room.

Justice

Bright Star felt the horror before she heard it. It was a malicious, oily feeling that seemed to push its way down her throat. She sat up in bed and held her head in her hands. Her skin felt like it was eating her alive. She was freezing. She was on fire. Her brain was coming out of her skull. Something was terribly wrong.

She slowly, silently rolled from the bed to her feet. Not actually to her feet. They hurt in the mornings and the pressure worried her hip. Instead, she hovered just slightly above the ground, gliding across the room and through the door. She summoned gossamer white robes from the air that covered her, and a circlet to hold back her hair. She let High Energy guide her to the disturbance.

When Bright Star arrived at the source of the destruction, she cloaked herself. She needed to go unnoticed. Easing her way through the group with Shift and finesse, she neared the center of the crowd of Followers and lost her cloak as she stumbled in horror.

Pigs. There were growling, spitting wild boars snarling at each other, goring and biting each other. They circled and circled. Then, they went in. The male's jaws snapped like jagged vices over a neck, a front leg. The gashes, cavernous wounds spewing blood and serrated flesh, closed as quickly as they opened. Then the female moved in, trampling with hooves and holding the other down as her jaws snapped his throat, biting and rending its muzzle and ears.

The Followers stood back, gasping in surprise and clinging to each other. They didn’t dare get in the center of the violent display. The animals would not be torn from their sport. They didn’t attempt Shifts. Bright Star knew it wouldn’t do any good. These two animals were more than capable of continuing this gruesome detail and holding off a Shift at the same time.

As she looked on, one of the pigs was tackled and rolled onto its back by the other. The pig scrambled to get up but before it could, its sister ripped open its abdomen. Ropy, slick intestines erupted from the belly, and a bloated, purple liver gushed fluid onto the floor,

Everything turned blue.

Bright Star shook. Her whole body began to quake and her teeth chattered angrily together with the force. The ligaments and tendons in her hands drew up until her fingers curled like claws. Her eyes, which had been itching, now stung intensely and she knew that the light from them was beaming stronger than it ever had. These ones did not deserve to be. These ones had rejected the gift they had been given. These ones gloried in the hurt; they were not transcended by it. These ones did not deserve… did not deserve… did not deserve. These ones could destroy all that she and the others had come to build. These ones would push Rush even farther away. She could feel her blood in her veins, every cell, atom, particle.
This is why he let the others die. This is why. I won’t let it happen again, she thought
. These ones would
fuck
…
up
…
everything
. They did not deserve to be saved. They had not even deserved their first lives. They would not be saved again. This time, they would not be saved again.

The Followers felt the Energy. It crackled like electricity in the air. They could feel their hair standing on edge. They could feel a buzzing jarring their clenched teeth. The Energy was not being allowed to escape the room. Bright Star couldn’t afford to let it out just yet. The Followers began to part the way for her. They slid into the periphery as she glided forward. But the spectacle did not end.

The twins changed back into human form. Their faces were mangled beyond recognition, though they had already started to heal. Harm’s eyes and stomach had been
cut
open. Destroy’s pretty nose was broken and her shoulder had been unhinged from its socket. Their bodies glistened with a pungent mixture of sweat, spit, bile and blood. But still, they repaired. Soon, before her eyes and those of the assembly, they were restored. They looked as they always looked. Dirty, pale, and frightening. Their eyes started to swirl.

Bright Star allowed the fury to well up within her. Her eyes blared blue and her hair began to whip around her head. The High Energy began causing the lights to flicker and the air to thicken.

She rubbed her hands together then put her palms over her eyes. When she removed them the whole room was washed in blue. Her voice rang deep and hollow, “You do not deserve his grace.”

The pair broke apart and turned in unison to face her. “Bright Star?” Harm yelped, then winced as his split lips cracked and bled.

“You do not deserve his grace,” the floating woman in white repeated. “He is not saving the world for you.” Her hands started to rise from her sides. And though her palms were up, there was no appeal being made. Instead, there were small violet balls building in each until they burned blue and grew to the size of oranges.

“We know her. He might save us just because we do.” Destroy countered with an irreverence born from a mix of desperation, repression and adolescent overconfidence.

Bright Star’s burning blue eyes narrowed and her mouth fell open. “You don’t know anything. He won’t save you. He won’t know and he won’t see. He won’t save you.” Then, both of their necks snapped until their heads drooped against their backs like wilted lilies. They were dead before there was time for anyone to do anything about it.

It was in that moment that Rush appeared, floating just above the two bodies. In a full body sigh, he wilted to the floor and laid a hand on each fragile chest. There was nothing he could do. Bright Star had managed to blur what she was doing in space and time so it was difficult to pinpoint or act upon the situation until it was far too late.

“They didn’t understand, my world,” Bright Star offered hurriedly.

Quietly he stroked the hair from their battered faces until at least their countenances were repaired. “Finally you admit to deciding who should be saved and who should not, Bright Star? How can you be the judge over their souls?”

“I certainly do not presume to be that which you are.” Bright Star’s eyes widened. She was truly shocked at what he was implying. “I am hurt by what happened to our flock beneath the water. With every living breath I am hurt by it.” She ducked her head in deference and apology. “Rush, I am trying to tell you that they were not like Destroy and Harm.” Bright Star defended her actions. “Those two were destructive and bred nothing but ill-will among us all.”

“They were children.” Rush countered angrily though softly as he repaired their wire-thin, young bodies. At the end of his labor, they appeared as sleeping angels.

“They… They only used your power to increase their own in order to wreak even more havoc. Look at them, my world!” She gestured to their bodies. She hadn’t paid attention to his work. But as she did, she found their wounds were gone. Their bodies had been cleaned and anointed. They lay there naked of clothing and free of discord. They appeared young and guileless. “It doesn’t matter what they look like now,” Bright Star shrieked. She began to weep. “It doesn’t matter.” She reached out a hand to touch Rush but found that he was forever out of reach.

“Who are you saving the world for, Bright Star?” Rush asked her finally. He knew she wouldn’t answer.

He raised his hands and the children rose from the ground. Followers started forward and began wrapping the children together in white cloth.

Bright Star stared, horrified. Rush was having them buried as the other Followers had been buried. He was having their bodies treated with honor. After they were dressed, Rush started out of the room, the bodies followed, and the Followers fell in line with the grieving procession. The powerful suggestion Destroy and Harm had used to spark their interest had passed and they were now stricken with horror and pain.

Bright Star pushed ahead of them all and laid a hand to Rush’s cheek. “Why do you care about them? Why do they inspire you to do what you were born to do? What is it about these two—two who don’t deserve you—that make you care this way?”

“What is it about any of you?” Rush asked, then stepped through her, literally. The rest of the procession followed, all of them moving through her as she stood her ground calling to them. They could no longer hear nor see her. Rush had made her insubstantial.

Twenty-four hours later, Bright Star was still invisible to much of the household. Even when Point called out to her and stood queerly in the exactly same space she occupied, Bright Star did not try to contact her. She stood in the foyer her eyes still on the ballroom where the spectacle had taken place. In the hours she stood there, the room had changed. Now it was a temple. Though dark and cool, the room was filled with white and gold. The gold altar up front was unadorned. Bright Star slowly neared it, then knelt to meditate. Monk, who had watched the entire spectacle unfold, came to kneel beside her and hold her hand.

*

“I haven’t seen Bright Star all day,” Jackson mentioned casually as he settled on the sofa in the back den. He had found Rush there watching television.

“She killed Destroy and Harm today,” was the candid reply. “She snapped their little necks in two and they died. They are buried in the backyard with the group from Tuesday.”

Jackson sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t know how to process this. He didn’t know what to feel. Those people gambled with death every day of their existences. Anything to get Rush’s attention. But even when Rush had failed to save them all from drowning at the bottom of the ocean, Jackson had not believed his brother to be so affected. Granted, he was sitting on the sofa eating nachos and watching television, but that in and of itself spelled trouble. Jackson couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother watch television. For that matter, Rush had what could only be considered as a cultivated or contrived demeanor. He was hiding how he truly felt about the deaths of these two. Then there was his choice of words.

“Destroy and Harm, Rush,” Jackson retorted with a quick and dismissive sneer. He opted for incredulity. “They probably thought it would be funny to prolong the Shift longer than necessary or to tamper with Keeping Time.” God, did he know their practices so well that they just came out of his mouth as if they were normal? “They probably—”

“Do you know how many gruesome acts, how much destruction, death and pain she’s brought to our house? And it’s like we’ve just gotten used to it. It’s like it’s okay in this house to mutilate, torture, murder another soul.” Rush stopped him. “She killed them on purpose. She fogged up the Energy so that I couldn’t pinpoint where she was or her intent immediately. She’s never done that before, so I wasn’t expecting it. Just that alone told me that she was up to something. She killed them.”