The Eye of Madness (44 page)

Gestas still felt the old urge deep inside to return to his wickedness. It was similar to the desire of a reformed smoker who still feels a twinge for a cigarette on occasion. However, the urge was weak and it grew weaker with each passing day.

The same day of the world summit in Little Rock, Rebekah received news that a small apartment was available. It was only a mile from their old one. They packed what little things they owned and moved in the same night. The apartment was indeed small and bare. If not for the loan of a couple of cots from a friendly army lieutenant, they would have slept on the floor. In comparison to their recent lodging, it was luxury. They enjoyed four solid walls and a roof over their heads, not to mention privacy. They invited Gestas to move in too.

Mary soon left Donna and her parents and began to wander the countryside. She had nowhere in particular to go so she visited many of the places she knew in life. St. James's Palace, the Palace of Whitehall and a country estate outside of London were her favorite places in life. She thought she may be able to capture some of the simple joys of her older life, but she found it impossible.

Whitehall had burned a little over a hundred years after her death. Only a few small parts remained. St. James's Palace was still a royal residence and security was too tight for her to get inside, even as an Impal. She thought about telling them who she was, but she didn't think it would go over very well with the current royals. The general public wouldn't be receptive either. She envisioned crowds of Brits pursuing her with lead pipes and chains, dealing some of the same justice Mary once used against her non-Catholic subjects.

The centuries had eroded her villainous stature. In truth, she was little more than a curiosity to her countrymen and the world, yet she was afraid to chance it. She thought it better to remain anonymous. Most people who encountered her smiled and nodded. To them, she was just another Impal from England's storied past. God knows there were enough of them wandering around already. There was no photography in her time and unless one possessed a keen eye, Mary didn't much resemble any of her portraits.

Her last hope of connection with her life was the country cottage. At first, she thought she was in the wrong place until she explored the nearby hills and valley centered with a lake. This is where the house once stood. The moss-covered rocks, which were the ancient remains of a foundation, confirmed it. She sat on the stones and stared at the distant lake where she once swam as a child. Sadness stung her when she remembered her friends. She recalled the wonderful, care free times she enjoyed here before the throne was thrust upon her. She didn't want to do what she did, not at first. Once it started, her arrogance convinced her it was justified. Every single day she spent as the sovereign ruler of England, she longed to be back here in this special place. Here, the cares of the world seemed hundreds of miles away.

Mary's eyes welled up and she began to cry. Large, silvery tears rained into the grass beneath her feet. She was thankful to be out of the dark void, yet she had never felt more alone.

The Headquarters of the 1st Signal Brigade in Gloucester was once again a busy place. Impals with nowhere to go made their homes there as the citizens of the nearby town began to move back and rebuild. Private Sean Poindexter helped facilitate the organized entrance of Impals. This time was different. This time, settlement on the base was voluntary. Poindexter was excited to see many of the Impals again, especially the great storyteller, J.M. Barrie. He was happy the darkness was gone. Although, every night since the eye passed, he had been apprehensive about turning off his lights before going to bed.

England declared Impals have the rights and privileges of any other citizen. Their temporary return to military bases was to expedite their reintegration into society. In fact, most of the first world countries had made similar decrees in the weeks since the eye passed, the United States included.

The summit in Little Rock was more or less to set international law and precedent for the Impals. It was also to help some of the third world countries come around in their thinking. There were still a few who considered them abominations to their religion. However, the recent encounter with the eye of the storm softened their stance quite a bit. Fortunately, none of these countries possessed Tesla Gates.

The news of the Gates had made it to Europe. Their nefarious legend spread quickly. J.M. Barrie even created a story around them which he told to both Impals and fleshers. In his story, the Tesla Gates were doorways to the Underworld. It was a horrible place that required a great deal of finesse and intelligence to escape. The Impals encountered many different adversaries such as evil fairies and ghost pirates. These stories projected a believable quality to the European Impals. The ones who had fallen victim to the Shredder in America knew better.

Overall, Poindexter felt better, except for one thing. The situation with his friend of five years ate at him with guilt on a daily basis. Not because Jack was gone, Poindexter believed he got what he deserved. He felt guilty because he was friends with him, visiting his house on several occasions. He did not have a clue what Jack was really like, what he did in his home when nobody was around. No telling how many times he visited Jack's flat with the gruesome cage a feet away from him. He felt stupid because he could have prevented it, could have stopped it several victims ago. There should have been signs and Poindexter missed them.

Poindexter felt a chill every time he travelled to the quarter master barracks on the north side of the base to get supplies. Jack was buried in an unmarked grave a short distance behind the building. A small stick had been shoved into the soft earth, not as a memorial, but as a notice to avoid the area.

He tried to feel sorry for Jack, but he could not bring himself to do it. He felt far sorrier for all the poor women. Jack would be forgotten before long. He should be. The place where he now resided was far darker than the hole where his remains lay.

Poindexter picked up several crates of food and took them back to the barracks. It was a blessing that eating was no longer a function the Impals needed or desired. The base wouldn't have enough rations to last a week if they had to provide for the influx of Impals. He grabbed a ration pack and joined some of his fellow soldiers at an outside table. They listened to radio reports of the summit in Little Rock.

Poindexter had the good fortune of night duty assignment in the barracks. He barely listened to the radio as he thought about story time with J.M. Barrie. He felt a little childish, but he didn't care. Any positive diversion was welcome. Besides, he loved the stories.

After three days of deliberation, Cecil was exhausted. As he expected, minimal progress had been made. The whole thing was little more than a political show of who was the most compassionate and caring about the plight of the Impals. Of course, the United States was last in this category and deservedly so. Cecil hoped to change this perception, but it was going to take a lot of time to convince the world otherwise. There was too much baggage and too many open gates … literally.

The one unanimous agreement was that the Tesla Gates would be destroyed. This wasn't done only because of the Impals. The Gates could also become a formidable weapon if developed further. These devices were a political football, threatening to hinder any further progress. They agreed to destroy them and any blue prints in existence. Cecil called the president and let him know of this decision.

“It's for the best,” the president agreed. “Those things are an abomination.”

“How are you holding up?” Cecil asked.

“Great, never been better!” the president replied, a little too enthusiastically.

Cecil knew better. He knew the president was not receiving the same respect as he would have as a flesh and blood president. It was a sad reality and it was the main reason why Cecil asked him to step back into his post. If the United States could show the world that placing an Impal back in charge was the right thing, then it might send a strong message. Cecil asked Carmella to step in and check on him. She didn't want to leave her mother, not even for an instant, but she agreed to return to the White House during the summit.

The summit ended after a week. Besides the destruction of the Gates, the only item agreed upon is that Impals deserved the same due process as fleshers. What this meant varied a great deal from the developed countries to the third world countries. In the United States and its allies, it meant amnesty. Nobody was willing to go as far as granting citizenship, at least, not yet. This decision remained with individual nations.

Cecil was anxious to get back to Washington. The Constitutional government needed to be replaced. He knew it was not going to be easy, there would be several vying for power in the new government. In spite of all that had happened, man's desire for power and control was still strong.

The last day of the summit, Cecil walked outside the Arkansas State Capitol building to get some fresh air and to call Barbara. He intended to return home the next morning, but his last evening in Arkansas would be a short trip up the road with Thomas and Seth. He walked outside and breathed in the cool fall air. It was time for this kind of weather. After all, they were just a few weeks away from Christmas. The green grass and green trees made it a hard reality to accept.

The Arkansas State Capitol building was designed to resemble the US Capitol building, but only two-thirds the size. The large rotunda dome cast a shadow across the front of the building as the late afternoon sun sank low in the western sky. Cecil sat down on the shaded limestone steps and took out his cell phone to call Barbara. He was about to hit call when something caught his attention. Even in the shadow of the building, he could tell something was different above him. He squinted up into the sky and blinked several times. He slowly stood up as the phone slipped out of his hand and bounced down the steps.

The sky above had lost its lavender hue and was now a light blue. The once yellow clouds were now white. He started to walk down the steps, stumbling as his eyes remained focused on the heavens. Soon, something else grabbed his attention. Two large oak trees a few yards away dropped their leaves in a brown and thunderous crash. In fact, all the trees he could see, both close and on the distant hills surrounding the capital city, were bare in a few minutes. The millions of leaves dropping in short order from near and far emitted numerous muffled explosions. Cecil clasped his hands over his ears to shield them from the deafening roar.

Cecil jumped back towards the middle of the walkway as if he were trying to avoid stepping in something dangerous. The grass, which was a lush green moments ago, was turning brown as if painted by an invisible brush. The noise attracted people inside as delegates, security, and state police streamed outside.

Cecil stood in dumbstruck shock as security and Burt approached asking him if he was okay. He shook his head. “The—the storm … has p-passed,” he stammered.

His heart throbbed as he scrambled for his phone. Abbs and Steff were foremost on his mind.

CHAPTER 48

THE ETHEREAL INSTINCT

“Trust your instinct to the end, though you can render no reason.”

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Cecil could not breathe as the phone began to ring. An eternity passed between every maddening pulse. A few moments later there was a click followed by a female voice. “Hello.”

He sucked in a huge lungful of air when he recognized the sweet, tinny voice of Steff.

“Hello, Daddy,” Steff said, “Are you coming home soon?”

“Are you and your sister okay?” Cecil gasped.

“Yes, we are fine … what's wrong, Daddy? You are scaring me.”

“Scaring you?” Cecil thought. He then began to laugh.

“What's so funny, Daddy?” Steff asked, her voice rising with frustration.

“Nothing … nothing at all, sweetheart,” he said between chuckles. “I am just so glad to hear your beautiful voice.”

“Mom … Dad is acting weird,” Steff called out. He heard shuffling footsteps and then Barbara took the phone.

“Cecil, is everything alright?” Barbara asked.

He confirmed again that both of the girls were fine before telling her what had happened in the past few minutes.

Barbara walked to the window and gasped.

“My God, it is true,” she breathed. “Girls come here!”

Abbs came from upstairs and joined them at the window. They all stared with disbelief at a sight which would have been ordinary a few months before. The world was normal again.

Barbara walked to the TV and clicked it on. The first couple of stations she tried broadcast a test pattern indicating they were off the air. She soon came across a local Virginia station with a message scrolling across the screen.

“It appears the cosmic storm has passed over the Earth. The Impals are still here. We will follow with a live broadcast as soon as the staff is assembled
…”

Barbara plopped down in a chair in front of the TV. The message offended her, saying everything was normal other than the Impals were still here. To her, it now seemed completely normal and she couldn't imagine a world without the Impals. Especially not a world without her daughters. She was relieved the girls were still here, but terrified when she considered that they could be gone at any minute.

“Mom, are you alright?” Abbs asked.

She and her sister knelt down beside their mother and placed a hand on her arm. Their cold was as comforting as a warm embrace. She almost forgot about Cecil on the other end of the phone.

“Cecil, are you still there?” she asked after several long moments.

“Yes, is everything okay?” he asked.

She smiled at both of her daughters and touched their ethereal faces with her free hand. “Yes, everything is fine. When are you coming home?”