Fear of Mystics (Saga of Mystics Book 2) (2 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

              As the people bustled about, setting up the day’s market, Minister Silvio “Sal” Martino went from stall to stall to see if he could lend a hand to anyone.  He passed out food to those who had nothing to trade, blankets from the chapel to those who were cold, and words of comfort to those who needed them. These “survivors’ markets” had popped up across the city last spring and summer, but from all he had heard, they were even more prevalent now. They showed a society trying to rebuild. Small groups coming together for protection and companionship. Sal wasn’t positive that this was a good thing.

              The early morning icicles dripped cold water on the pavement in this former parking lot, and Sal thought back on two winters without power.  He thought on the devastation it had caused and how many people had died without protection from the cold.  Colorado Springs and the surrounding area had been a mid-sized city of around four hundred and twenty thousand souls before this all started.  Most people he knew assumed that number to be less than fifty thousand now.  Sal shook his head as he thought about it.  It wasn’t how he thought the end times would happen, not how all of the books laid it out, but it was definitely the end times.

              “Father Sal?” a voice called out from one of the stalls.  People often called him Father, but he did not prefer it.  It was mostly a misunderstanding since all of the Faith wore the collars that had been common to those of the Catholic or Episcopalian priests prior to the end.

              “It is just minister, friend, how can I be of service?” he replied.

              A young man stood next to a young woman clearly in the late stages of pregnancy, both of them bundled into heavy coats.  The scarves wrapped around their faces were not enough to hide the red nose and cheeks gained from exposure to the pre-dawn chill on their way here.

              “Could you pray for my sister?” The young man said.

              “Have you prayed for her?” Sal asked, placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “God hears you just as easily as he hears me.” The young man stuttered out a response and Sal just smiled and put his other hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “Come, let us pray for her together.”

              Sal led the brother and sister through his usual prayer for providence, finishing as he always did, with a prayer to keep the Adversary’s minions and their heathen magic at bay. As he opened his eyes, he saw fear on the girl’s face.

              People had gathered around during the prayer, but Sal spoke directly to the young pregnant woman.  “I can see that the vile magic has touched you. Do you exhibit any of the signs of possession?”

              The girl looked over at her brother, who had clearly brought her for more than prayer.

              “Minister,” the boy began, “my sister does not dabble with the dark abilities.  But the boy who got her knocked up, he was a witch of the worst kind.  He tricked her.”

              Sal turned back to the girl, “Is this true?” A murmur went through the crowd.

              The girl looked at the ground for a while, then Sal lifted her head up so he could look in her eyes. She nodded and immediately looked back at the ground.

              “What is this boy’s name?” Sal queried.

              “F-f-frank,” the girl slowly stuttered out, “Frank Keller.”

              Sal relaxed.  “Frank Keller is no longer a problem.  He has been cleansed of his demons.”

              The small crowd erupted in a cheer, praising God for this. Sal continued, “But, it is a lesson my friends.” He addressed the full crowd now.  “You see what the Adversary will do when we do not protect ourselves from his wiles? This woman did nothing wrong, the Keller boy was a neighbor, she knew him.  But those who have given themselves over to the Adversary are no longer our friends, no longer our relatives.  They are now the demon that lives within them.  Make no mistake, friends.  We are in the final battle of mankind and we must choose sides.  We are either on the side of the demon, or on the side of the Lord.  There can be no two ways about it.”

              The crowd cheered. The shouted “Amen” peppering his speech.  When they had hushed down, Sal continued. “The Lord’s Hammer is our gift, the last weapon against the Adversary’s power. Keep vigilant.  And young lady,” he finished toward the young woman,” bring that child to the chapel when it is born so we may be sure the taint of the Evil One is not on it.”

              With tears rolling down her cheeks, she smiled a sheepish smile, agreeing to this order. Sal continued his work of good deeds, handing out food and clothing. There were no dissenters this day, that was a good thing.  Perhaps the Lord, and his faithful, were already winning the battle.

CHAPTER FIVE

              The chill of the morning air made Ted Craven stomp his feet and rub his arms for warmth.  Spring had sprung, as they say, but in Colorado, spring mornings were still very cold.  Grabbing a “fire stone”, he started up the fire pit in the center of the Council chamber. He was always the first one there, but the others would be along shortly. The post-dawn light poured in from the rising sun off the eastern plains.  Ted stared out across the old city, even from this vantage point, he could see nature retaking its own.

              Over the last year and a half, the elements had corroded and eroded many of the signs of technological advance for which the old world was most noted. People had died in droves, through the elements or the bad actions of others. Eric Fine’s Bandits still sealed off Manitou Springs and the passage up into the mountains.  Tales of “Survivors’ Camps” were common, as were the tales of their markets that popped up for commerce wherever groups of people could safely congregate. Had it not been his job to do so, Ted would prefer not to think about the big picture.  As it was, he could see the world devolving into a sort of dark age of superstition and fear.  Had someone asked him two years before, he would not have thought it possible.

              “Good morning, babe.” His wife, Kayla, said as she walked into the chamber behind him. He turned to greet her.

              “Well, good morning, beautiful!” He gave her a warm hug and a quick kiss. “Max still asleep?”

              Kayla shook her head, “No. She is down the hill. I wonder if there is a way that she could get some distance from her dogs.  There are so many now, and she seems almost incapable of concentration with that many thoughts flowing through her brain.”

              Ted smiled.  “She doesn’t want to disengage, honey. She likes this.  She is happy, which is more than I can say for most right now.”

              “That is a fair point.  It just worries me.” Kayla began dusting off the stone benches for people. They had these council meetings once per week, but the room still got filled with dust and the occasional snow drift.

              Kyle Ward, Britton Casco and Erica Cross all walked in together, laughing about some hidden joke.  Ted inclined his head in greeting to his nephew and his nephew’s boyfriend, before giving the pregnant Mrs. Cross a big bear hug.

              “Good morning, you all!” He said jovially.  They all replied in kind as the final three members of the council, Pastor Rich Carson, Dr. Emma Pare and Ted’s mother-in-law, Beth Merritt, joined them. Jenny Martinez was not at the Bluffs right now, instead being on a quick mission to retrieve some items from the museum downtown with the Ko brothers.

              “I left Jordan to take care of Cooper,” Emma started, “Less distraction than the last time.”

              “That is very kind of you to consider,” Ted answered, “But it really isn’t necessary.  I doubt anyone minds him coming to the meetings.” Ted looked around the room, and no one seemed to disagree.  “Shall we get to it, then?”

              Everyone took their seats around the fire, as Beth passed out some baked goods she had brought with her.

              Ted began, “So, the weekly Council meeting begins with an accounting of goods.  So, how do we look?”

              Britt went into a long accounting of their food and supplies.  They were in good shape, and Emma followed with a report on the planting they had begun and the livestock that were in the pens.  Over the last year and a half, the Bluffs had accepted trade in livestock and seed from farmers on the eastern plains.  Those trade deals had dried up, as had most from the east.

              “Has anyone heard anything about why we haven’t seen folks from the east? Is it possible we have another group of healers out there?” Ted asked.

              Erica spoke up. “That would be wonderful, but we shouldn’t assume.  It brings me to what Adam wanted us to talk about, the itineracies.” The response was expected, as there were some who really believed in the idea and some who felt that safety was better. Erica broke in, “When we formed this council, we said we were here to make the world more livable and a better place for survivors. How can we say we are doing that when we sit behind stone walls and wait for the needy to come to us?”

              “How do we know it is safe, Erica?  What has changed to make us think that time has come?” Britt was a former cadet commander at the Air Force Academy and had certainly been trained at security, but Kyle interrupted him.

              “Safety, can’t be our only concern.” Kyle offered.  It was clear to Ted that this was an ongoing disagreement between the two.

              “We have talked this out for weeks, or months.  I think it is time for a vote.” Ted said. Although they had an even number at the moment, Jenny’s vote would not have mattered, since everyone except Britt and Beth voted to form itineracies and send them out.  They had decided to send six teams, each with a healer, a warrior, a kinetic and an empath.  They would leave after the Easter celebration, which Ted liked to think of as the Spring celebration.  He was not fond of religious observances. This gave them two weeks to prepare.  Erica let them all know the healers they had already picked and as a group, they decided on kinetics. Jenny was considered to be the best choice to determine which empaths to send, so they would get her info when she got back.  Britt gave his recommendation for warriors, but was quickly cut off by Kyle.

              “I want to go,” Kyle stated rather plainly, and Britt looked at him with surprise and concern.

              “As an empath?” Britt asked.

              “As a warrior.  I may not have fighting powers, but I am still one of the best fighters in the group. Additionally, I think it is important that we, as Council members, support these itineracies with our own involvement if we want them to succeed.”

              Britt bristled at even the thought of his love venturing out into the unknown. Not for the first time, Ted thought about the negative consequences of so many on the Council having close relations with one another.

              The conversation went on for a while, but there was no denying the logic that Kyle laid out. He had been thinking about this for some time and telling no one.  For every argument Britt or Beth made, Kyle had already developed an answer. It struck Ted just how much Kyle was like his father. In the end, they chose the teams and those teams included Kyle, Jenny and Rich as representatives of the Council.  Britt was able to successfully lobby to have Kyle and Jenny together on their team, since Jenny did not prefer to lead.  Her inner sight tended to get in the way of effective leader communication.

              As the meeting wrapped up, Ted watched Kyle and Britt walk away in a heated discussion.  He turned to his wife, “You think they will be okay?”

              Kayla glanced over at the men, “They will, or they won’t.  Worrying about it won’t change anything.”

              Ted smiled at his wife.  He wondered how she would have responded if he had told her he had decided to be gone for months ahead. Then he remembered, he had told her that many times in his life, as he prepared for deployment. He lingered in thought on long-past arguments, the distance they created, and the trust that coming home always increased.

CHAPTER SIX

              There were no vines covering the doors.  No one had smashed in any windows.  In fact, it seemed like no one cared about this building, even Mother Nature had left it to its own devices. Cliff peered through the glass doors of the Downtown Museum of Art, and could still see the paintings and sculptures inside.  He waved his brother, Kin, over and stepped aside for Kin’s ability to do its thing.  Kin was a Telekinetic, or Telly, as the group called them.

              Kin walked up to the door while Cliff and Jenny looked up and down the street for Bandits, or any other problem that might arise.  Putting his hand to the door at the point of the lock, Kin closed his eyes and pushed with his hand, there was an audible click.  He did the same at the bottom of the door and the first set of doors were open.  The small group moved quietly inside the building and up to the gate, so Kin could work on the locks there. 

              Cliff kept watch, trying hard not to look at Jenny in her form-fitting yoga gear.  The woman wore these clothes all of the time, unless it was especially cold.  It was just what she felt comfortable in.  But Cliff was fourteen and in the midst of a tsunami of hormones that drove him mad with lust anytime any woman was around.  A beautiful woman in form-fitting clothing was like this new world’s version of porn, even if she was twice his age, and a close friend. Cliff adjusted himself, he didn’t really want Jenny looking at him right now.

              Over the past year and a half, Jenny and Cliff had been the researchers of record for the Council, specifically in regards to powers.  Cliff had found books that helped Jenny understand what the colors she saw meant.  Unfortunately, that meant whenever she turned on her inner sight, she could see the lust just oozing off of Cliff. She had never brought it up, but Cliff knew that she could see it.  That research was why they were here.

              As they got past the inner gate, Kin pulled out a light stone, and the others followed suit.  It was hard to pass by these wonderful works of art, but they were here for a reason.  Cliff had found a reference to a potentially useful exhibition that had been going on at the museum at the time of the event. It was called “Mesopotamian Life of the Ancients” and included artifacts recovered from the occupation of Baghdad and the subsequent removal of these items when terrorist groups had begun destroying anything in Baghdad that they considered against their religion.

              Cliff looked back at Jenny, she was stopped in front of a painting.  He walked back to where she was and reached his hand out to feel the history of the painting.  He saw its history, including the death of some owners during the second World War, when the Nazis had stolen this work from a family.  He saw the scenes that had played out before and after that and then opened his eyes to see the tear silently falling down Jenny’s cheek.

              “Did you see it?” She asked.

              Cliff nodded. She had taught him how to read an item better than he had already discovered. The death of the elder members of the family had been immediate, as the work was stolen. The return to one of the children after the war, and the scenes from her life of meaning afterward were joyous.  This was the hardest part about being able to read items, it allowed the reader to peek into other people’s lives, to see their joy, their sadness, their tragedy and their triumph. He felt bad for people who did not have this particular ability, it was beautiful to see into other people’s lives.  While sometimes too painful to watch, the ability gave one the opportunity to see the long history of an item, the older the better. They were now on their way to items that were multiple millennia old, the stories would be amazing.

              Kin unlocked the door that closed the exhibition and they all walked in.  Kin did not have the same abilities, so he did not stop in his tracks the way that Jenny and Cliff did. There were many items in the room, but right off to the left, there was an item that emanated a glow of power.  Cliff had not reached out with his mind, he did not need to, it seemed to reach out to him. He turned to see Jenny staring at him.

              “I guess you see it too?” he asked her.

              “See what?” Kin asked looking around.

              “It doesn’t matter,” Jenny replied, “Take everything.  This is the mother lode. We need to get it back to the Bluffs.”

              They began to gather every artifact they could put their hands on, including the small stone cylinder that was throbbing with power.  It was a black stone, engraved with cuneiform writing all around it.  There were no images engraved into it, just the language that none of them could read.  Cliff quickly put it in the sack they had brought, gaining a quick image as he touched it of the soldier who had rescued it from the museum ahead of the terrorist attack. He didn’t have time for reading yet, they would do that when they got back. But a thought popped into his mind about the fact that no one had entered this building since the event.

              “Hey,” he said to his brother and Jenny, “Didn’t they have a kitchen here, a restaurant or something?”

              Jenny nodded, “For events and things.”

              Kin smiled broadly at his little brother, “This building hasn’t been foraged.”