The Tears of Nero (The Halo Group Book 1) (9 page)

“We can,” Edward said.  “But the fact remains that it's a part of the story we will have to come back to at some point.”

“As you were describing things to us, you made it seem like the horsemen were reporting to this creature.  That makes me think maybe Nero isn’t the one in charge,” Henry theorized.  “Maybe this is what Seneca wanted us to see.”

“Maybe,” Edward admitted.  “But that doesn't necessarily make me feel any better.”

“Nero’s got a big part to play in this,” Kelly said.  “Maybe he's running things for the winged creature.  The horsemen serve him, and he serves the shadow-angel.”

“I told you not to say that word,” Franklin hissed.  “It gives me the creeps.” 

“So what about these horsemen?” Sadie asked.  “How do they fit into all this?” 

“The horsemen are scientists,” Henry said.  “That’s interesting if you think about it.  All this time we’ve been pursuing the religious angle.”

“Based on what I saw, I think we’re right to pursue the religious angle,” Edward reminded him. 

“Maybe this is the place where science and faith intersect,” Henry said.

“Or maybe this is the place where Edward hoodwinks all of us,” Franklin said. 

“I saw what I saw,” Edward replied. 

“But we weren’t there,” Franklin added.  “You can’t prove what you saw.”

“Fine.  Believe what you want.  I know we’re in serious trouble here, and not all of it has to do with Nero.”

“Any idea what Morningstar might refer to?” Henry asked, trying to steer the discussion back in a positive direction.   

“Morningstar is another name for Lucifer,” Edward explained.  “That must tie in somehow.”

“According to the Bible, Lucifer was an-”

“Don't say it, Sadie,” Franklin growled.  “Don't. Say. It!”

“It's ok to be scared, Franklin,” Henry said.  “We all are.”

“We've got to figure all of this out,” Franklin said, completely ignoring Henry.

“Nero isn’t going to give us time to put all the facts together,” Sadie reminded them.  “Some of us will die before we get to that point.”

“So why did Seneca lead us here?” Henry asked. 

“I think we should be concerned about the test tubes,” Franklin said.  “Seneca wanted us to know how big this whole thing really is.  Nero’s threatening to kill millions in some mysterious way because God has allowed good people to suffer.  Seems like Nero believes this is his way of getting back at God or proving a point of some sort.  We stumble upon a laboratory where vials of something called Morningstar are being studied by men who masquerade as The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.  You do the math.  This has biological warfare written all over it.”

Nobody knew how to respond to Franklin’s theory.  They were all too shocked to speak.  The idea of a super germ being released into the atmosphere by Nero was frightening and plausible.

“Genocide,” Henry said.  “Good Lord, what have we gotten ourselves into?”  

“We’d better get back to the tent,” Edward said softly.  “The sooner we find a way off of this rock the better.”  

Chapter 13

It didn’t take them long to backtrack, and soon they were standing in front of the garish circus tent again, staring at a large 8x10 glossy poster of Kelly that had been placed on an easel.  In the photo, Kelly was dressed in flowing electric blue robes adorned with moons and stars.  Wearing a purple scarf on her head and various magical trinkets about her neck, she stared into a crystal ball, looking for secrets.  The outfit was designed to give the impression that she was a fortune teller.  The crystal ball strengthened the image while adding a certain amount of tongue-in-cheek authenticity to the sideshow act.

“Ask The Amazing Esmeralda What The Future Holds!!!” the poster read.   

Kelly recoiled at the sight of herself dressed in the latest gypsy fashions.

“I knew it,” Franklin said, smacking his open palm with his fist.  “I knew she was a fake.  Nobody ever listens to me.”

“You worked for a circus?” Henry asked.  “Seems like you might have shared that with us earlier, dear.”

“It was a carnival,” Kelly corrected him.  “It seemed like an obvious way to use my gift.”

“You are a fraud,” Franklin said.  “You could use your ‘gift’ to steal cars, deal drugs, swindle banks, run a long con on some unsuspecting rich guy, or even cheat at high stakes poker.”

“You don’t understand,” Kelly said.

“Well, enlighten us,” Sadie said, not bothering to hide the cold sarcasm in her voice.  “We’d love to hear what you’ve got to say.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Edward said.  “This is all part of Nero’s plan.  Let’s go inside the tent and see what he’s cooked up for us.  Somehow, I think all our questions about Kelly will be answered in there.”

“I agree,” Henry said.

One by one they entered the tent.  Edward held the tent flap open for Kelly.  As she walked past she looked at him with a sense of pleading in her eyes, begging him for help and support.  The other three had already formed their opinions and were against her now.  Edward was the only one who hadn’t made his mind up about her yet. 

“After you,” Edward said, unwilling to commit to anything.  Kelly nodded and dropped her gaze, realizing she was alone. 

At first glance, Nero’s game wasn’t anything spectacular.  A computer sat on a plain folding table.  The screensaver featured a caricature of the robed, masked figure they’d seen in the basement on Archibald Street.  He was laughing at them.

A series of cables snaked from the monitor and hard drive to a satellite unit.  A printer was also hooked to the computer.  Several sheets of blank white paper were waiting in the print tray.  It looked like a makeshift workstation for Nero’s secretary rather than a potential death trap devised by a maniac.  

Beside the computer was a locked steel box.  The metal was rusty in places, but the box seemed impenetrable without a key.  Edward remembered the key from the tiger’s mouth and pulled it out of his pocket.  He handed it to Kelly.  “I think you’re going to need this.”

Kelly nodded, stepped up to the computer, and jiggled the mouse a couple of times until the screensaver went away.  A large icon took up most of the screen.  Like something from a Wonderland riddle, it read only:  “Click Me!”

Kelly directed the cursor to the icon and double-clicked.  The caricature from the screensaver suddenly came to life.  Nero stared back at her, studying her from behind his harlequin’s mask.  Tears had been drawn beneath both eye slits, and the mouth had been carved in a perpetual frown.

Nero’s location wasn’t immediately clear.  There was very little light in the room save for that which was directed onto the madman’s painted face.  Nero wore a purple robe with gold fringe at the throat.  His ash-colored blonde hair was adorned with a crown of olive leaves.  He was of medium-build with large delicate hands that looked like they had been sewn onto the wrong body.  His tunic pressed tight against his pot belly, and were it not for the strange costume he wore, Nero might have looked at home riding behind the wheel of an eighteen-wheeler. 

“This is the guy we’ve been so afraid of?” Franklin said.  “He doesn’t look so bad.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Nero said in an electronically-manipulated voice, revealing that he could hear every word being said.  “Of course, you should know that better than anyone.  Right, brother?”

“Who are you?” Franklin demanded.  “Show yourself to us, you coward!”

“You’re in no position to order me around,” Nero said.  “And if I were you, I’d close my mouth.  Otherwise, I’ll be forced to tell all these nice people about some of the things you’ve done in your past.  Remember!  Bad things have happened to good people.  You‘ve been responsible for some of them.”

Franklin’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything.  Instead, he looked at Kelly and waited for her to do something.

“That’s better,” Nero said.  Although no one could see his true face, it was obvious from the satisfaction in his voice that he was smiling behind that mask.  “Now, onto Esmeralda…or you might know her better as Miss Kelly Avery.”

“What do you want?” Kelly asked.

“A simple test of your skills is all I require,” Nero said.  “For so many years you’ve pretended to ‘see’ things that you couldn’t see, yet once upon a time you ignored something that passed right before your very eyes.  You and I have a past, and I intend to bring your sin to light.  The reasons for each of you being here on this island with me are different.  The reason you‘re here, Kelly, is personal.”

“I don’t understand,” Kelly stammered.

“Think about it for a moment,” Nero said.  “It will come to you.  Bad things happened to a good person at some point in your past, and you allowed it.  My question is why?”

“I’ve never done anything to anybody,” Kelly protested.

“True enough,” Nero said.  “But you allowed something to be done…and isn’t that really the same thing?  Commission?  Omission?  All sins are black in the end.  Just ask Henry.”

“What do I have to do with any of this?” Henry stammered. 

“Let us go,” Kelly pleaded.  “We haven’t done anything to you.”

“This is your personal Patmos, your own private Croatoan.  I’ve gone to great lengths to plan this.  This is where you see the end of your world and mine.  This is the place where you disappear without a trace, where you make me understand why bad things happen to good people, where you explain yourself and see if your explanation is good enough.  I suspect it won‘t be.”

“Why are we here?”

“As I explained earlier, some of you are here because I need to make you suffer for what you did to me.  Some of you are here to help me understand, to make me feel better, to give me a sense of justice being set right in the world.”

“What do you want me to do?” Kelly asked.  “How can I make things right with you?”

“I have a little test for you.  If you’re really a psychic this shouldn’t be any problem.  If not, things might get a bit sticky for you.  Use your key and unlock the box.”

Although nervous about the prospect of what might be inside, Kelly did as she was instructed.  At first, it looked like the box was filled with thousands of gold coins.  Upon closer inspection, it became clear those gold coins were actually hundreds of bottle caps taken from dozens of varieties of beer.

“The game is simple and relates directly to your purpose for being here…and to the history you and I share.  Use your gift to tell me how many bottle caps are in this box.  Get the right answer, and never see or hear from me again.  Answer incorrectly, and I’ll light a candle in your honor.  You have two minutes to use the keyboard to enter your answer.  Bad things happened to a good person once upon a time.  Remember that.  These bottle caps should be a firm reminder of that day.”

Like some strange variant of a popular game show, Nero began to play his fiddle.  The music was jovial, festive, hardly conducive to making an educated guess.  It was like the theme music to Jeopardy as played by a homicidal maniac. 

“What do I do?” she asked.

“Do you know how many caps are in the box?” Edward asked.

“No,” Kelly admitted. 

“Why not?  You knew how much change I had in my pockets earlier.  This is the same thing.”

“It’s different,” she said as Nero continued to play.

“How is it different?” Edward asked, his voice growing cold.

“Yes,” Nero interrupted.  “How is it different, Kelly?”

“It just is,” she stammered.  “It just is.”

“That answer isn’t good enough,” Edward said.  “Tell me the truth.  Your life is at stake.  Now is not the time for secrets.”

Kelly looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze.  “I was hired to be here.  The money was too good to pass up.  I had no idea all this would happen.”

Edward sighed.  

“I knew it!” Franklin said again, satisfied with himself.  “Nobody ever listens to me!”

“Who hired you?” Henry asked.

“I don’t know,” Kelly admitted.  “Nero, I would assume, although I never actually saw his face.”

Nero stopped fiddling again and stared through the mask’s mournful slits at Kelly.  “You were hired, yes.  That was the best way to get you here.  You are tied to me like the rest of these sheep.  We have a history, you and I.  Maybe if God hadn‘t allowed the serpent to live, you and I wouldn‘t be having this conversation.  But He did, and so we‘re here.  Thank God for your predicament.”

“How do I know you?” Kelly asked, a note of pleading in her voice.  “Tell me that at least.”

“Guess the correct number, and I’ll share that bit of information with you.  Or have your psychic abilities failed you now?  You should already know the answer to your own question.  You should know who I am.  Then again, maybe you aren‘t as gifted as you want everyone to believe.  The clock is ticking, my dear.”

Kelly looked at Edward.  “What do I do?”

Edward rushed toward the table.  He began to scoop out handfuls of bottle caps.  “Everyone help.  Maybe we can count these before the time runs out.”

“She lied to us,” Franklin protested.  “Why should we stick our necks out for her?’

“It doesn’t matter,” Edward said.  “We can’t sit here and do nothing.”

Reluctantly, Franklin joined the rest of the group as they huddled around the table and began counting the bottle caps Edward dumped in front of them.  It only took a couple of seconds for Edward to scream.  He had just reached in to grab another handful  when something moved beneath the surface.

“Scorpions!” Edward shrieked.  “The box is full of scorpions.  They're underneath the bottle caps.  Don‘t reach in!”

Nero laughed.  It was a sound that would have seemed at home in a concentration camp or coming from the violent ward of a psych hospital.  “You didn’t think I’d make this easy, did you?” the madman asked.  “This is Kelly’s cross to bear.  Kelly, love, you have thirty seconds.  I‘d suggest you use The Force or whatever it is that you call your little gift and divine me an answer.”

Kelly looked frantically around at the other members of the group.  Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her lower lip trembled in fear.  “What’s he going to do to me?” she asked.

At that moment, everyone else looked as frightened as she did. 

“Make a guess,” Edward said.  “Type in something.”

Kelly nodded and ran to the keyboard.  She typed in her answer and saw Nero begin to laugh.  It was the last sound she heard before the computer went blank.

“That’s it?” Franklin asked.  “What now?”

The silence was more uncomfortable than the sound of Nero’s violin.  Everyone kept waiting for something to happen.  But nothing did. 

“Maybe I guessed correctly,” Kelly said.

“I don’t think so,” Henry replied.  “Look.”

The light on the printer blinked and one lone sheet of paper shot out.  On it a single line was written.

“Kelly, you will not be the rider of the pale horse….but you will be trampled by it before the night is over.”