The Awakening (52 page)

             
“Gahan,” Ben said. 

             
“He’s the Light, and the Way,” she said, closing her eyes and clasping Mark’s hand to the center of her chest.

             
Mark flinched, so Ben spoke up.  “What’s your name?”

             
“Allison,” she said.

             
“Allison, I’m Ben, and I have a brain tumor,” he said.  “The doctors say they can’t operate on it, and I only have a few more months, if I’m lucky.  That man, we met him at the hospital and he promised us we’d have salvation, and life.”

             
“You will, I can feel it,” she said, her lips stretching over her large teeth.  “Gahan can do anything.  He’s healed the sick and dying.  He raised the dead.”

             
Ben felt his face grow cold.  “The dead?”

             
Allison nodded, her eyes all-but glowing with wonder and pride.  “He did.  There was a man, he came here so sick, but before we could get him to chapel, he collapsed and his heart stopped.  Gahan was told and he came running.  He placed his hands on him and suddenly, he breathed again!  He sat up and he cried and hugged Gahan.  You won’t believe the wonders you’ll find here.”

             
Ben felt his nerves grow more raw as they turned a corner and started walking towards great, wooden doors.  Beyond, the singing grew louder, hymns Ben recognized from his childhood, from places Abby dragged him over and over.

             
Allison pushed them forward, cracking the door open, peering inside to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupting.  Ben, a little panicked, peered around her and at the front of the stage, there was Shawn Thompson, white robes, hair flowing around his face, and beside him stood Ben’s sister.

             
She looked okay, if not a bit pale, wearing the same white robes, her eyes closed in what looked like prayer.  Ben felt panic surge up, and he took a step back, dragging Mark with him.  Allison let the door shut as she turned to the men, her brows knitted in confusion.

             
“What’s wrong?” she asked.

             
“I’m…” Ben said, scrambling for something to say.  Ben knew if they set foot in the chapel, Abby would sense him, and their cover would be blown.  “I’m scared,” Ben blurted.

             
Allison’s face softened.  “There’s no need to be frightened.  We’re all full of love and light.  I promise.”

             
“I just um… need some time.  Please?  All those people…” Ben stammered, using his panic to sound like he was absolutely terrified.

             
Allison let out a sigh.  “What about you, friend?”

             
“Why don’t I stay with him?” Mark answered, reaching out for Ben.  “As you said, we’ll all be healed in time.  Perhaps Gahan, or one of his members, can come and talk to my friend, bring him courage?”

             
Allison clasped her hands at her breast and nodded, her eyes fluttering closed.  “I’ll see what I can do.  Let me take you to a room and I’ll let them know you’re feeling a little nervous.”

             
Ben let out a breath and let Allison continue taking them down the second hall littered with closed doors.  They got to the end, where the hall curved a bit, and she opened a door for them.  Inside were small, brown plush chairs, a table, a coffee maker that looked dusty and unused, and a few magazines in racks on the wall.  The light was dim, but the temperature was comfortable and there was no lock on the door.

             
“What were your names?” Allison asked as she ushered them inside.

             
“Michael,” Mark said swiftly.  “This is my friend Alexander.  We should be on a list or something.”  Mark found a chair with his cane and lowered himself into it.

             
Ben remained standing and froze when Allison stopped directly in front of him and reached out with her hands to touch his face.  “All will be well, I promise you,” she whispered, and with that, she was gone.

             
Ben immediately ran his hands into his hair and tried not to be sick all over the waiting room floor.  “That was close.”

             
“Was it Abby?” Mark asked, fiddling with the top of his cane.

             
“Yes, and I suspect she would have spotted us instantly if we’d gone in that chapel.”

             
“Likely,” Mark said.  “There were at least six in the chapel, and about three more somewhere near us.  We may have underestimated their numbers.”

             
“My confidence is starting to wane,” Ben said, standing up and pacing the small room.  “I think I’d feel a little better if you took those contacts out.”

             
“Not yet,” Mark said.  “We don’t need to blow our cover before we get information.”

             
Ben reached into his pocket and touched the capped syringe that was pressing against his leg.  “I just want to get this over with.  I need to find a way to get-” His words were cut off by the door to the room flying open.

             
Ben took a step back as a white-robbed Abby stepped in, her eyes glowing with light, her smile wide and frightening.  “Oh, oh you have no idea how happy I am to see you, my sweet brother.”

             
Stumbling back, Ben reached into his pocket for the syringe.  “Abby, what the hell are you doing?”

             
“What are
you
doing, darling?” she asked, her eyes following his hand.  She took a step forward, and before Ben could react, her hand closed around his wrist, pulling his arm up with impossible strength.  His fingers were still closed around the syringe and she gave a little ‘tisk’ with her tongue.  “Oh, silly boy,” she said and shook his hand so the needle fell to the floor.  “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

             
Ben struggled to pull his arm away, but her grasp was stronger than any person he’d ever come into contact with.  She reached into his coat and pulled out his gun as well, setting it on the low table near his leg.  “Abby, stop this,” he whispered.

             
“Abby’s not in right now,” she said with a little laugh.  “Abby’s gone off on holiday, and she’s let me come and play for a while.”

             
“Who are you?” Ben asked.

             
The thing looking out from Abby’s eyes ducked her head, a little and gave a little chuckle.  “Victory, darling Benny.  I am Victory.  I am triumph.  I’m
winning
.”

             
Ben felt bile rise into his throat as she kept close to him.  “Let my sister go.”

             
The thing bent close to Ben, nose touching his skin, and he could hear it take a deep, long breath.  “You’re afraid… but you also don’t believe me.”  She threw her head back, laughing almost maniacally.  “You still think I’m Abby.  You think Abby’s in here somewhere!”

             
“I don’t know,” Ben gasped as the grip on his wrist got tighter.  She pushed him against the wall, holding her forearm across his chest, and he couldn’t move. 

             
“You’re faced with gods, with powers you can’t even fathom and your puny mortal brain still won’t believe what’s standing right in front of you.”  Her voice was filled with wonder and awe.  “It’s amazing, these humans.”  She turned her head back to look at Mark who hadn’t moved from the chair.  “Even you, with your life, your immortality, you still don’t understand.  You still don’t fully believe.  That’s what I love about this pathetic race,” she said.  She finally released her hold on Ben and took a step back while he attempted to catch his breath.  “You refuse to believe in what’s staring you right in the face, but when you’re presented with this pathetic, human idea of God, you fall down on your knees and worship.  You offer the very essence of your life for a myth, for a joke.  If Yahweh Himself came down to earth and threw open his arms, you fools would question his existence.”

             
“You underestimate a lot of us,” Ben said.

             
“Do I?” she asked with a chuckle.  “Do I?  You, who saw a man whose brains had turned into literal mush, get up and walk out of his bed on his own, you felt him hold you in place with his powers, and you still question it.  You still think you can stop me by giving me a jab full of anti-depressant and cure my mental illness!”  She kicked the syringe over to Ben and nodded.  “Go on, pick it up.”

             
Ben kept his eyes on her as he bent down and retrieved the syringe.  He looked over at Mark, and though Mark couldn’t see him, Mark was staring, giving the slightest nod his way.  Ben uncapped the syringe but still didn’t move.

             
“Oh don’t be such a baby,” she said, throwing out her arm.  “Give me the jab, see what happens!”

             
Ben licked his lips and touched the tip of the needle to her skin.  “I’ve seen this work.”

             
“You’ve seen it work on that moron, Asclepius.  A half-breed, a pathetic, powerless human-loving moron who would prefer to hang out inside that simpering, impotent man than reach for real power,” she hissed.  “Stick me, you coward!”

             
Ben jumped, and then jammed the needle into her arm, depressing the plunger, giving her three times the dosage than Asclepius had instructed him to do so.  He took a step back, letting the needle fall to the floor, his eyes never leaving her face.

             
She stood there, her eyes closed, and she gave a little shudder.  After a moment, they opened and her mouth dropped.  “Ben?  Oh God, Ben wh-what am I doing here?  What’s going on?”

             
“Abby,” Ben said, but as he rushed forward, he saw her mouth curve into a smile and he stopped.

             
She threw her head back and laughed again.  “Fool.  It works on the weak.  I am Victory, I’m not going to be stopped by some cocktail of human drugs.  You’re obviously here for your friend,” she said, and turned to Mark, “and I was counting on that.  The only way to get you to creep out of hiding was to threaten your precious human race.”

             
Mark jumped to his feet, letting his cane fall to the floor, and for the first time since Ben had met him, Mark actually looked frightening.  Even with his eyes clouded by the contacts, and his small stature, Ben could feel the power radiating off of the man.  It was in this moment alone, Ben could believe that Mark truly was centuries old.

             
“Where is he?” Mark asked, his voice low and dark.

             
The creature inside Abby smiled and spread her hands.  “Around.  You two will be reunited, believe me, we believe it’s necessary, and from the look on your face, you know it is.”

             
“You don’t realize what you’re asking to unleash,” Mark hissed.

             
“Oh,” she said with a wide grin, “we do.”  Clapping her hands together, she turned back to Ben.  “Well, you two make yourselves comfortable.  I’m probably going to kill you,” she said, reaching out to put a finger under Ben’s chin.  “But not yet.  You’re kind of cute.  Maybe we can break you enough to let someone else slip in there for a while.  Either way, I’ll be back.”  With a sly grin, she turned and walked out the door, shutting it with a firm click that echoed in the small room.

             
Ben didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until it all came out in a rush.  His head was swimming, and he looked over at Mark who was pulling the contacts from his eyes.  “Who is she?”

             
“As far as I can guess, she’s Nike,” Mark said.

             
Ben frowned.  “Excuse me?”

             
“Nike,” Mark repeated.  “Greek goddess of victory.  The way she kept insisting she was victory, it makes sense.  I’m not as familiar with Greek and Roman mythos as I’d like to be, but I remember the basic ones.  She’s old, and she’s very strong.  We need to find Asclepius.”

             
“You realize they probably have him cornered, probably killed,” Ben said.  “None of these people are playing with a full deck.”

             
“Do you still have your phone?” Mark asked.

             
Ben frowned, but reached into his pocket and pulled it out.  “Yeah, and it still has signal.  Weird that they just let us stroll in without any sort of intake process or anything.”

             
“There’s likely a reason for it,” Mark said.  “These things are old, far older than I could possibly imagine, and they’re clever.”

             
“If that’s the case,” Ben said, ignoring his urging skepticism floating through his brain, “how are we going to get past them and get the hell out of here?”

             
“Because their biggest weakness is arrogance,” Mark said.  “You know that old belief that the Devil’s biggest weakness is his own reflection?  The story goes, the only way to defeat the Devil is to distract him with a mirror because his arrogance is so intense he can’t help but stare at himself.  I think that old myth had a basis.”