Halcyon's Wake: Faith

Stormy Skies

I ate a quick breakfast with Smokey in the subterranean facility he called home long before Halcyon came on the scene. Tucked behind Thunder Mountain in west Sedona, the shelter had been carved out of the base of a cave during the nuke-crazed days of the 1950’s. Smokey said he bought it cheap in early 1970, and had lived there off and on ever since.

Whoever paid to dig the place out of the red rock must have had some seriously deep pockets. The craftsmanship was immaculate; stairs descending into the lower level hewn precisely by careful hands in the ancient stone. A steel door the size of a vintage bank vault led into a spacious hallway illuminated by recessed, florescent lighting, with another steel door twenty yards further down opening up into the main chamber.

The ceiling was at least 15 feet high, momentarily alleviating any claustrophobia - until you realized you were standing beneath a million tons of rock. It was furnished simply, but not exactly what I expected from a Hopi elder. More like Andy Warhol meeting John Wayne in a battle of kitsch versus sensibility, and neither one really winning.

Eamyuot onakeep Malathus, Donasha. Aehad Dharkimon. The words returned to my mind in a flash - unbidden. Smokey saw the alarm on my face and cocked an eyebrow above kind and knowing eyes. “Something on your mind, Marine?”

“More like in my mind, Smoke… hard to make sense of it - but I don’t seem to sense any malice - more like concern. Genuine concern.”

“How about your peepers? You seeing through walls with those purple eyes yet?”

I chuckled. “No superpowers yet, Smoke. Just a purple haze that … Aamar aiyt b’meatiyt’eh, Donasha.”

“Afraid I didn’t catch that last little bit, Zack - something tells me you didn’t either.”

Hiro stood at the entrance to the main living area, looking slightly alarmed.

“He said ‘rain is coming, Man’, which doesn’t make a lick of sense. Haven’t seen a drop since your sky-skin showed up - whaddya think, Smoke?”

Smokey rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a long moment then stared hard at Zack.

“If rain is coming - then we’d better start saving as much Liland as we can - you know what water does to the stuff, Hiro. I’ll get the boys and meet you in front of the cave. The wheelbarrow is still back behind the upper shower - I think we’d better hurry.”

Hiro nodded and headed off to the stairway, Smokey pointing me in the same direction.

“Any idea who’s talking to me?” I asked.

Smokey shook his head as if uncertain. “I’ve got a theory, son - let me gnaw on it awhile before I spook you - best get to harvesting as much Liland as we can… but I don’t think it’s the bad guys.”

“Who’s the bad guys?” I asked.

“That’s the $100,000 question Zack,” he mumbled, walking away.

I trotted after Hiro and met him halfway up the stairs.

“So I gather Donasha means man - you happen to recall what the rest of my earlier rambling meant?” I asked.

He continued plodding up the stairs on light and silent feet and gave me a pensive look. “Eamyuot onakeep Malathus, Donasha. Aehad Dharkimon means ‘Death follows Malathus, Man. Remember Love’.”

We continued up the stairs in silence while I contemplated this revelation. Just who or what was Malathus? Did it have anything to do with the Nephilim Lothar had mentioned last night? And just who the hell was using my mind like some ventriloquist’s dummy? If they could get me to blurt out Aramaic weather forecasts, what else were they capable of? I made a mental note to be sure and keep Hiro’s sword tucked safely away - or maybe keep it really close at hand. Not too sure which would be wiser.

We entered the main cavern and I felt a familiar sense of alarm - it was the same connection I’d felt with Beth on the station, and knew that something was troubling her. I went to the mouth of the cave and found her staring off to the western horizon. The faint morning light was overshadowed by a wall of deep purple - almost black- that spanned the western sky as far as you could see. Energy flickered through the roiling mass like camera flashes from the crowd in a darkened stadium; long, purple tendrils streamed below the behemoth dousing the landscape beneath it, kicking up a wall of Liland that seemed to feed the approaching storm. We had maybe an hour or two before it hit us.

“Smokey says we need to start gathering as much Liland as we can, Beth. Come on.”

I grasped her hand to pull her along and she clinched it, holding me in place, and I looked into her very concerned, but caring eyes. Her connection to me spoke more, and I knew it wasn’t the storm she was afraid of - it was me.

“Look at the storm, Zack, and tell me exactly what you see.”

“I see a big-ass purple storm a hundred miles wide that’s getting ready to piss all over our foodstuffs, Beth - what am I supposed to be seeing?”

“That’s not what I meant, Zack. Just describe to me what you are seeing.”

I hesitated and stared hard at the approaching storm - looking a bit more intently, but I couldn’t pick out anything out of the ordinary - except the constant flashes of energy, and I described it all to her.

The fear in her eyes didn’t subside.

“Zack, I don’t see any kind of lightning or energy in those clouds.”

She let the words hang there for a moment and didn’t let go of my hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Maybe more for her than for me, but I still felt a pang of dread.

“There!” I pointed off to a particular bright flash in the sky - “You had to see that one, right?” Beth just shook her head silently in the negative, looking at me like I was a sad, lost puppy that she couldn’t bring home.

What the hell has this Liland done to me?! Who the fuck was messing around in my head?

Hiro approached us with the wheelbarrow, a couple of shovels and a stack of burlap sacks. “Time to earn your keep, boys and girls,” he said, glancing towards the approaching storm. “Looks like we’re gonna get us one helluva gully-washer.” He handed Beth the stack of sacks and tossed me one of the long handled shovels. “Guess you’re making sense after all, Zack - I just hope you’re little Aramaic ramblings don’t get too complex - I fell asleep in that class a lot, Professor Watkins was an absolute bore...” He wandered over to the nearest pile of Liland with the wheelbarrow, motioning for Beth and I to get to it, then tossed me a casual salute worthy of Gomer Pyle, grinned and headed back into the cave.

Beth reached up and touched my cheek, and although I still saw fear in her eyes, care seemed to outweigh it - for a brief moment.

I looked away towards the storm and felt an uncanny and ridiculous pull towards it. Probably better not to mention that, I thought. She still thinks I’m somewhat sane - even if I’m beginning to seriously doubt it.