For the Record

“My name is Nathan Pierce. The date is Friday, June 6, 2008. I’m recording this…audio journal…for whoever happens to stumble across it. I’m not sure why I’m taking the time to do this. I guess it just feels good to speak my thoughts.

“At the moment, I live inside the Westgate Plaza Mall in northern California. This is where I’ve been, for the last week with Absolute’s Rebellion, my friend Macayle, and my… girlfriend…Pearl. After Absolute—a rebel leader strongly against President Stone and her administration—released video proof of the president’s complacency in the murder of the vice president, people attempted to overthrow the presidency and save what is left of this country. But so far, all attempts at that have failed. The president’s supporters seem to outnumber those who hate her right now, and she has whatever’s left of the United States Armed Forces at her disposal, along with any remaining power in her title of president. And she’s used that title to enact the Falling Star Directives—laws that have stripped this nation of the freedoms it was originally founded on. The directives ban all religious items, force people to take government marks on their bodies in order to receive the currency of this new age, and sentence people to death for opposing the United States Government.

“I will keep fighting, though, because I want to save my sister. Daisy was sentenced to death for forging a government tattoo so she and I could escape Tucson together. I was the only one who made it out of there. I have no idea where she is now. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. But my sister’s capture is the least of anyone else’s problems.

“I know this may have sounded strange years or even months ago, but an alien species going by the name Legion has engulfed most of our world, Earth, in darkness. This darkness had led to bitter cold across the country, even though it is the end of spring. Many believe President Stone is in league with Legion. There are many reasons why we believe this, but the main one is the sanctuary zones. Certain cities and rural areas were ‘conveniently’ spared from Legion’s darkness, and these are the safe havens—the sanctuary zones—for those who are still alive and are marked with the president’s barcode.

“Outside these safe havens, outside the cities bathed in sunlight and fresh air, are desolate fields of darkness. Some of these areas have been bombed—not atomically, but bombed enough to be uninhabitable. We call them the Broken Lands. More of the president’s handiwork. She claims the bombings are to destroy the vessels Legion arrived here in. I believe it’s to wipe out those who have chosen to rebel against her.

“On top of the bombings, the Broken Lands are also littered with lighthouses that put out strange light—dark light, some of us have come to call it. It causes people to go mad and kill each other. Nobody knows exactly where these lighthouses came from, but most think Legion is creating them.

“I have to wonder how long it will be until the darkness swallows all of our minds. How long before those of us who have a sound mind begin turning on each other? How long before the whole world—even the sanctuary zones—is smothered in so much darkness that humanity can no longer survive? What a terrifying thought…

“I’m sorry. My faith…it’s been a bit shaky lately. I know God has a plan in all of this, but I have to wonder what it is and when it will come to pass. Maybe, by some odd chance, this planet will survive. And maybe you’re one of the survivors. Maybe this recording will make it to another planet far from here, far from Legion’s grasp, and you have no idea what I’m even talking about. If that’s true, then I am very happy for you. Enjoy your sunshine. Enjoy the happy days of your youth while you can.

“Enough talk of the darkness. Enough talk of my sister, Legion, the president, the bombs. I want to talk about something pleasant for a bit. I want to talk about Pearl. Pearl is—wait, someone is knocking on the door. I guess I’ll wrap this up for now. Hopefully there will be many more recordings after this one. But if there aren’t, please learn to treat each day as if it were your last.”‍ ‍

Chapter 1

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Serenity March took a sip of her coffee and set her mug on white saucer, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. The benchmarks that graced her beauty less than two weeks earlier when she first met Nathan Pierce—her emerald eyes, her freckled face, her energetic and confident demeanor—had been replaced by darkened eyes, baggy wrinkles, dirt-smudged complexion, and a waning energy like that of a toy with the batteries are on the verge of dying. Her hair, which as far as Nathan could tell hadn’t been washed in a long while, refused to hold its framework around her once-youthful face, succumbing now to tangles and frizz.

But Nathan knew that the core of her being was more than just tired. It was worn out, discouraged, ravaged by doubt and the onslaught of world events. Just the same as the rest of the rebels and outcasts occupying the Westgate Plaza Mall in northern California.

The small coffeehouse they sat in had once been a bustling epicenter of caffeine delight catering to the patrons of the mall. The small centerpieces gracing the tables—stemmed vases with fake daisies—brought a small spark of cheer to their corner of the mall. Chalkboards hung behind the counter where the ceiling and wall met, menu items written in colorful chalk. Little things like this gave Nathan cause to stop and realize there was still hope beneath the darkness.

Serenity took another sip of coffee. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Nathan replied, crossing his arms over his chest to keep warm. With electricity limited—and Legion’s presence draping parts of the world in chilling weather—they couldn’t afford to keep the heaters running all the time, so they ran them two hours at the beginning of each day and two hours at the end. Just enough to keep Legion’s chill at bay.

Seeing Nathan bundle his coat, Serenity did the same. “Want something? Katt’s in the back, organizing supplies.”

“I’m good,” he said, scratching his chin. To his irritation, thin stubble covered his face. He had forgotten to shave again. Despite that, he felt like he got a good sleep cycle in for once and was refreshed in the clean clothes he had picked up from around the mall: blue jeans, black T-shirt, and a brown leather jacket. With night and day demolished by Legion’s constant darkness in the area, the denizens of the Westgate Plaza Mall created sleep cycles around standard time, following night and day according to clocks and watches, where 6:00 a.m. always represented morning and 6:00 p.m. always represented evening. It had taken some getting used to being awake so long without the aid of the sun. Living within the mall helped, and Nathan knew that completely boarding up the skylights would only increase the ease of adjustment.

When Absolute’s Rebellion—loyal followers to Absolute, the man who was on a crusade to pull the president of the United States out of office—first arrived at the mall a little more than a week prior, the building had been mostly intact, yet deserted. A Legion vessel had at one point in the past crashed into one of the mall’s adjacent buildings. A close inspection into the crash site revealed that no underground seals had been broken. These seals covered demon nests discovered throughout the planet. Seals that it seemed only Legion’s vessels could destroy. Nathan still remembered his uncanny experience of touching part of a broken seal around one of the vessels near the Mercy Springs Elementary School. His spirit had left his body somehow, and he had almost died from some sort of alien electrocution.

Nathan kept most of his observations about the mall crash site to himself, but he grew increasingly uneasy each time he eyed the Best Buy store through which Legion’s vessel had landed. Unlike the other vessel landing sites Nathan had observed, this one had not created a massive crater, nor had it wiped out entire square blocks. This vessel had simply crashed through the roof of the Best Buy store and sunk deep into the ground beneath the mall. When Nathan originally went to examine the destruction, he saw that the tip of the vessel protruded from the ground by a dozen feet. The rest of the vessel lay hidden beneath dirt and rubble.

He had to wonder, upon earlier inspection of the mall, if Legion had in fact come through the building at some point—possibly from the rogue vessel that had crashed—and killed off most of those who were still in the mall at the time. It could have been Nathan’s imagination, but it seemed to him that the same dust—the red and black particles he and his sister had ingested in the outskirts of downtown Phoenix—had been lingering in the air in very small quantities when Absolute’s Rebellion found the mall. It was a sign, to him at least, that Legion’s vessels—or Legion itself—had vaporized someone… or many.

Nathan cleared his mind of his anxious thoughts and studied Serenity as she sipped from her steaming mug. For the last few days, he found himself increasingly worried about her well-being. As one of the leaders of Absolute’s Rebellion—someone Absolute himself trusted immensely—she was in charge of the majority of the group within the mall. She had done a great job as a leader up until a couple of days ago, when she started showing signs of exhaustion.

Nathan would admit to anyone and everyone that he too was tired and worn, but he had already taken steps to keep himself together. The head wound he had received from a terrible car accident that had taken place shortly before Legion’s vessels fell had healed surprisingly well, leaving behind only a minimal scar line on his forehead. A good nap every few hours, four meals a day—regardless if he had an appetite or not, and plenty of water kept him going. The nap was the most essential part. It kept him from going insane.

Serenity combed her bangs with her hand and fumbled with her tousled hair. “Do you know if the metal reinforcements have been installed in the doors at the southern end of the mall yet?”

“Not yet,” he answered. “That’s next on the list.” Even though he didn’t consider himself an official member of Absolute’s Rebellion, Nathan did what he could to help Serenity and her group in the mall. They were helping him search for his missing sister, Daisy Pierce, who had yet to be executed by the president of the United States for not taking the mandated barcode mark.

Serenity sighed. “What about the skylights? What’s their status?”

“The last of them is being boarded up right now.”

She closed her eyes in a long blink. “What about the parking lot?”

“Half of the vehicles in your schematics have mines placed under them, just as you suggested. The other half will be done soon.”

“Suggested? I ordered it. Why hasn’t it been done? We need to be prepared in case we’re attacked. I want to be able to blow that whole parking lot to smithereens if I need to.”

Nathan took a deep breath. He could deal with Serenity’s constant mood swings—a side effect of her fatigue—until she started crossing the line into an all-out power trip. “Everyone has been busy with other things. There aren’t that many of us here.”

She leaned back in her chair and sighed again before staring at the ceiling. “Legion’s coming for us. I know it. I can feel it.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I just did.” Her dark eyes looked straight at him. “I’ve been having…I’ve been having dreams. Nightmares.” She looked down into her coffee. “It’s why I can’t take naps during the day. It’s why I can’t sleep at night. All I dream of is darkness. Darkness everywhere. In everything. Black swarms of—”

“Stop!” Nathan’s harsh tone surprised even him, but he didn’t want to think about Legion any more than absolutely necessary. And he didn’t want Serenity spreading her fears throughout the rest of the rebellion. “You need to stop.”

“Did you just yell at me?”

“I didn’t yell. I shouted. There’s a difference. You need to stop talking about Legion. We all know Legion is out there. But we need to focus on other things right now.”

“What other things? You mean your god, don’t you? We need to focus on the god who let this whole world go to hell?”

“I meant we need to focus on securing the mall, on—”

“Finding your sister?”

He restrained himself from reacting to Serenity’s condescending tone. “Yes. My sister.”

“You should just count her as dead, Nathan. Haven’t I told you that before? If I haven’t, you need to hear it at least once from me. She’s one person. This whole world is collapsing on itself, and you’re worried about one person.”

“She’s my sister.”

“You have Pearl, right? That immortal girl?”

“You hate Pearl, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. But you have her. Can’t she be enough?”

Nathan leaned over the table, maintaining direct eye contact with Serenity. “Until I find and save my sister…or receive proof that she’s dead, I won’t stop looking for her.”

“Whatever,” Serenity scoffed with a wave of her hand. “You keep chasing your ghosts, Nathan. I won’t get in your way. But Absolute doesn’t want me pouring many more resources into looking for her.”

Nathan sat back in his chair, not at all surprised. He knew Absolute wanted Daisy found but that the formation of his rebellion and the utter destruction of the president and her administration were his top priorities.

A young woman in a black apron emerged from the back room carrying a large cardboard box. She set it on the counter. “Hi, Nathan,” she chimed.

He nodded and smiled. Katt seemed to have a way of lighting up a dark room. Absolute’s Rebellion had found Katt hiding in the back room of the coffeehouse when they first combed the mall for survivors. She claimed to know nothing about what had happened to the other people in the mall. She did remember mass panic when the stars—or Legion’s vessels—began to crash into Earth. When she originally tried to escape from the mall, she witnessed a vessel crash into the mall’s adjacent building—the rogue vessel that had Nathan worried. From that point, she locked herself in the back room until Nathan, Pearl, Macayle Harper, Serenity, and the rest of Absolute’s Rebellion came around. Nathan found it ironic that the woman who once worked as a barista in this same coffeehouse still worked in it, in the same capacity, just under completely different circumstances.

“You need rest,” Nathan said to Serenity. “Even if it’s not sleep, you should lay off the coffee and go lie down.”

She took another sip from her mug, glaring at him. “How about I just let this whole operation go to hell, huh?”

“These people, this mall, this isn’t all your responsibility. We all take responsibility for ourselves. You’re not our babysitter. Why don’t you leave someone else in command for a bit while you rest? You’re going to wear yourself too thin, and then you’ll be no good to anyone.”

Serenity stood up abruptly, almost knocking her mug off the table. “Mind your own damn business, Nathan. Since when do you have it all together? You were trembling and wetting your pants when I met you in Los Angeles, and now you’re trying to hold me up as if you were an unshakeable crutch. Just do what you’re told and stay out of my way.” She stormed off into the mall.

“Another day, another bitch episode,” Katt said, setting a steaming mug of dark roast in front of Nathan. “Just how you like it.”

The aroma of the coffee was just how he liked it. Thank God for baristas. “She’s just tired.”

“As is everyone else around here. I didn’t sleep too well last night, thanks to those noises again, but you don’t see me acting like that.”

Strange noises again? For the past few nights, many of the occupants of the Westgate Plaza Mall had complained to Serenity and her circle—including Nathan—of noises coming from the parking lot surrounding the mall. The noises had been described as loud whispers, the language of which couldn’t be discerned by any of the witnesses. At first, Nathan had been sure the “whispers” were simply wind currents moving through the abandoned lot of cars and trees, but with so many reports stating the sounds as actual whispers—most in low male tones, aside from the high-pitched screech Katt swore she heard—Nathan didn’t feel comfortable passing the noises off as the wind.

Yesterday, he took a stroll around the mall to investigate anything out of the ordinary. But he turned up nothing. He even went as far as the main street, where the glow of the parking lot lamps couldn’t reach. When he attempted to enter the darkness beyond the mall’s boundaries, he came across a sunspot. Many sunspots had broken through the dark ceiling Legion had made of the sky, and the pillars of light brought rare warmth to the otherwise chilling air.

Nathan spent some time basking in the sunspot, putting aside the cares of the mall while he conversed with God. Nathan’s dealings with God had grown more commonplace since his journey to Los Angeles to find his sister. His encounters were now full-blown discussions with the Creator of the universe. They were also incredibly private, conversations he only shared with one other person—Pearl. Nathan found himself talking to God about almost everything—the decaying condition of the planet, the terrifying creatures rumored to be showing up around the globe, and the purpose of Absolute’s Rebellion. (Nathan wasn’t completely certain Absolute’s intentions to destroy the presidency from the ground up were ethical or in the best interest of those who had refused to take the president’s barcode mark). He even pressed the subject of his sister many times, asking God where she was and if she was still alive. God gave Nathan the same answer each time, the same answer He gave Nathan when he almost drowned—or technically, did drown—in the waters on the way to the lighthouse he thought housed his sister: You will mount a rescue effort to save her.

Nathan found the answer vague. God didn’t—and wouldn’t—specify if Daisy was still alive, nor would He specify if she would indeed be rescued or not. Just that Nathan would mount a rescue effort.

Nathan found that he enjoyed rambling on and on to God about nothing and everything. It didn’t seem to bother God, who listened intently and almost never interrupted unless He had good reason. Nathan found it interesting that God wouldn’t give too many details about Legion, except that Legion was an evil as ancient as—if not more than—the creation of the Earth.

Not all the conversations were as pleasant as Nathan hoped. A very grim but honest answer came to him one day when he asked God if the earth was going to perish: Yes. But not yet.

The answer stunned Nathan to the point that he found himself asking the question two more times, only to get the same answer before he finally conceded. The Earth would be destroyed. But not yet. The “not yet” was enough to give Nathan hope that he might find his sister and that they would have a chance to escape the planet together.

“You okay?”

Nathan snapped out of his reverie and watched Katt’s mouth curve into a frown. “Just…thinking.”

“Any luck finding out what those noises are?”

He shook his head and took a cautious sip of coffee. “I went around the lot yesterday, but I didn’t find anything.”

“Someone said they saw you sitting out in one of the sunspots, talking to yourself.”

He didn’t defend himself against the accusation. He had learned the hard way that not many people understood what he meant when he told them he had conversations with God.

Katt returned to the counter and started pulling out sealed bags of coffee grounds from the cardboard box. “Anyway, I think Serenity needs to lighten up a bit. Especially on you. And what’s she got against Pearl?”

“It’s a long story.” He stood with his mug in hand. “Thanks for the coffee. I have to go check on some things.”

Katt smiled warmly at him. “Anytime, Nathan. Let me know if you find out what those noises are. They’re really starting to give me the creeps.”

He nodded and left the coffeehouse to enter the main mall area, careful not to spill his precious mug of coffee. He briefly wondered where Serenity ran off to. Part of him really didn’t care, though. He couldn’t focus all of his effort on keeping track of her. She needed sleep and maybe a bit of an attitude adjustment, but he couldn’t give her any of those things. He had a hard enough time keeping himself in check.

Walking through the mall toward the living areas, he imagined what the mall might have been like before Legion attacked. Families, teens, couples all hanging out, goofing around, purchasing things, conversing with one another, finding hiding places in back hallways for make-out sessions, or window shopping for items they couldn’t afford.

Now the place was nearly deserted, the only dominating noise being the humming of the heaters.

Nathan passed rebellion members along the way to his destination, but he simply nodded and smiled, not interested in starting dialogue with anyone. Most knew who he was—his face had been plastered on television stations across the globe and on wanted posters in most sanctuary zones—but he did his best to keep company only with those he trusted: Pearl, Macayle, and Serenity. They made up his inner circle, his tight-knit group of trusted friends. Anyone else—even Katt—was an acquaintance. Nathan had to have it that way to keep from developing relationships with potential enemies.

The mattress store at the east end of the mall came into view on his right. Most of Absolute’s Rebellion slept there and in the adjacent Macy’s department store. The mall contained just enough beds for its current occupants and a few stragglers who came upon the building while wandering in the darkness. When the time came to let a straggler into the mall, though, Nathan and Serenity would implement certain non-violent interrogation procedures they had discussed to ensure that the president, Legion, or any other malevolent entity wasn’t attempting to sneak into their ranks.

Nathan shuddered to think what would happen if the president learned of his whereabouts. Her bloodlust for him knew no bounds, and if she discovered his location at the Westgate Plaza Mall, she would drop bombs on it to make sure he was destroyed.

A few rebellion members were loitering around the front of the mattress store, chatting with one another about things Nathan cared nothing about. Instead of allowing one of them to pull him into their conversation, Nathan swiftly made his way into the store, almost sure he heard someone mention his name.

Sleeping rebellion members, buried under thick blankets, occupied some of the mattresses lined up and down the middle of the store. At the other end of the store stood a white painted door, through which Nathan went. Dim lighting from a small desk lamp illuminated the little office, revealing the mattress lying on the floor, piled high with black comforters and blankets.

Cautious not to wake the person sleeping there, Nathan set his coffee on the desk, took a seat in the office chair, and grabbed a book from the volumes on the desk. Over the last day or two, he had managed to feel more at home at his little desk, which was currently covered with fiction novels he had found throughout the mall, a creature compendium he had been compiling, the Bible Heather had given him before they parted ways in Los Angeles, and the small scroll he had received from his sister via a supernatural carrier dove.

Nathan read the scribbled last words he had received from his sister, words he had memorized:

Brother,

I love you and I miss you so much. Don’t ever blame yourself for what happened. I love you with all my heart, and I believe we’ll be together again someday, sometime. All is not over for you, my dear brother. I am pleading with you, begging you to go and live a happy life. Find Pearl—or whoever it is your heart longs for—and find a safe place in the world where you can live out your days to their fullest. May I always be in your heart as you have been in mine, especially in these dark final hours.

Daisy

Nathan felt inclined to read a little fiction before waking Pearl. He needed a break. He had much work to do on the mall, and he needed to map the lighthouses that kept popping up all over the globe. Lighthouses with lamps that burned through the darkness with beams of madness and evil. Neither he nor anyone else in Absolute’s Rebellion had been able to figure out how the light from the lighthouses caused people to go mad, but every eyewitness account informed him of the same thing: The light—the dark light, as Nathan called it—caused anyone subjected to it to go insane and lash out against others.

As soon as he flipped open the cover of A Slow Train Home, a semi-fictional account of a woman’s rape experience while taking the Amtrak from Portland, Oregon, to Minot, North Dakota, he heard Pearl stir behind him. He promptly shut the book, which he had found on the floor in the middle of one of the department stores. Even though he wasn’t typically one to read something of this nature, as soon as he started the first chapter, he was immediately drawn in by the author’s exposition revealing the background of the rapist.

As much as he wanted to read, though, he desired to spend time with Pearl more.

“Nathan?” He swiveled the chair to face Pearl. Her head, along with a mat of white hair atop it, peered out from under the covers. “Is that you?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I…” She sat up, pulling the covers down to her waist. Long strands of her hair draped across her forehead and the sides of her face. She wore a black nightgown, the same one she wore to bed every night. “I heard you come in. You woke me…from my dream.”

“What kind of dream?” He found his curiosity growing with the dreams/nightmares people in the mall had been sharing lately. Coupled with the peculiar noises being heard outside the mall, Nathan feared something sinister might be trying to sneak its way into the rebellion’s makeshift society.

Pearl moved the hair away from her face and yawned. Nathan tried to control the smile flooding his face. She was always a sight for sore eyes, no matter how unkempt she looked. “It was just another nightmare,” she said. “Did you talk to Serenity about the strange noises?”

“No. I didn’t get the chance. She’s in another one of her foul moods.”

Pearl frowned. “Again?”

“She’s not sleeping. And she’s not taking advice from anyone.”

Pearl motioned for him to sit next to her. He stood up from the chair all too happily and plopped down on the mattress beside her. She, and the blankets, smelled of cherry blossoms, her body’s natural scent. It had become his favorite scent. Pearl put her hand to his face and stroked his cheek. She smiled, but underneath that smile lurked something Nathan knew she was keeping from him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, part of him wanting to encapsulate this moment to protect it from the darkness outside their door.

She stopped touching his face and sighed. “Do we have to talk about it?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I want to know what you dreamed about.”

She lay back down and closed her eyes. “Ryn.”

As much as he hated prompting her for more information, Nathan knew her dreams were bad news. During their travels to Los Angeles, when Olivia had still been with their group, the young girl used to complain about having dreams of a man, a dark magician, named Ryn. She told them Ryn had been trying to reach out and capture her…or something like that. Nathan never quite understood what the girl’s ramblings meant, and when his group had returned from the fight with Evanescence at the lighthouse, Olivia was gone. Nathan, Pearl, Macayle, and Serenity watched the entire apartment building that Absolute’s Rebellion had been using for its headquarters in Los Angeles vanish. Not just vanish, but teleport, Nathan reminded himself. Everyone assumed Olivia had been inside when it happened. Nathan also assumed it might have had something to do with Ryn, but he couldn’t be sure.

“And Olivia?” he asked.

“No. She wasn’t in my dream this time. But…but there were others. People. Humans. Lots of humans. Enslaved humans.”

“Slaves?”

Pearl took Nathan’s hand and began fiddling with his fingers. “Don’t worry about it,” she whispered. “I’m sure it’s just a dream.”

“I don’t know,” Nathan replied doubtfully. “There are too many weird things going on around here. Some people are having dreams about dragons and dead people. Some are hearing strange voices coming from the parking lot. And I can’t help but wonder about that crashed vessel.”

Pearl squeezed his hand. “You need to rest.”

“I feel okay today.”

She sat up, shaking her head. “You should rest.”

Nathan turned his head and caught a strong whiff of cherry blossoms. The scent relaxed his nerves and he felt his muscles ease as he lay back onto the mattress. He stifled a yawn, took a long blink, and felt sleep lure him in like an irresistible temptress. The darkness behind his eyes veiled his thoughts, fears, and feelings. He could hide there for a while, just a little while. He could sleep some of his problems away, just like he occasionally read some of them away.

He felt Pearl’s fingers move through his hair. The mistress of sleep pulled him into the darkness where everything concerning his world drifted into nothingness.

Pearl ran her hand through Nathan’s hair, watching him drift to sleep. She didn’t have the heart to tell him what she had really been dreaming about. Nathan still thought Pearl’s mother, Evanescence, was dead. But Pearl knew better. It was possible that some of the Great Witch’s powers had been stripped from her when Jasper impaled her with her own rod, but Pearl knew her mother was immortal and wouldn’t be killed that easily.

She was weak, though. That much Pearl decoded from her mottled dream. Visions of her mother raced through her mind, visions of the woman dressed in drab-colored gypsy rags to trick the people of Earth into thinking she was an old woman, frail and helpless. Truthfully, Evanescence was far from helpless, far from frail. Even though some of her powers had been stripped from her, she could still lead her great hordes of demons across the planet.

Pearl gazed at Nathan sleeping. His soft snores warmed her heart. She never would have thought that one of the humans could love her as much as Nathan did. Every day, she saw the glimmer in his eyes, the overflow of his heart proclaiming his adoration for her without words.

But will he love me when I tell him I killed a human? Pearl couldn’t erase from her mind the image of the man in Tucson, the one she had killed with a shotgun. She had entered his house looking for clothes, looking for a shower to wash the dirt from her body. Instead, she added stains to her heart and soul, and, with the help of pride, asserted her authority over the unsuspecting man and killed him. What will Nathan think of me when I finally do tell him? If I can find the courage to tell him.

Seeing Nathan’s peaceful, sleeping form, Pearl realized she couldn’t tell him. Not yet. He had too much on his mind. Absolute’s Rebellion had been growing larger each week they resided in the mall. Legion continued to cover more and more of the planet in darkness. And Serenity seemed to be jumping down Nathan’s throat about something trivial each and every day. Adding Pearl’s sin to his conscience would do more damage than good, no matter how guilty Pearl felt. I’ll deal with it, she told herself.

President Amanda Stone breathed in the musty air of the underground bunker and grumbled to herself, wishing for fresh air above ground. After hiding—or strategically positioning herself—underground for a little more than a week now, she was beginning to go stir crazy. Sleep had become elusive, coming to her only two hours at a time. Each time she awoke, she did so to reports describing a world significantly worse than the one in which she fell asleep.

When Legion’s vessels fell, when the president enacted the Falling Star Directives, she did so with the intent of creating alliances with the rest of the world’s superpowers and to build herself into someone bigger than just the president of the United States. Someone bigger than a dictator, better than a queen.

Her talks with the leaders of other countries had proven unfruitful so far. Most countries, still reeling from Legion’s attacks, wanted no part in an alliance. They simply wanted to survive and to control the mess forming in their own lands. It seemed to President Stone that she was the only one with power on her mind. But that could—would—work to her benefit.

Her dark advisor, the Man of Shadows—a title the president herself had given him—had promised her power. He was a faceless man who could turn to vapor and move through walls, and he continued to visit her multiple times a day both to bring his cooling touch to her sick and frail flesh, and to instruct her on what to do next. He breathed life into her, gave her purpose, kept her running.

Healing is exactly what President Stone needed. She grew weaker every day, her health continuously declining with each breath she took, although she didn’t know why. Some days, she felt it would be best to put herself out of this misery and meet whatever deity—if there was one—was waiting to meet her on the other side. But instead of ending her life, instead of bringing an anticlimactic end to her existence, she held on for one more day, for one more soothing touch from the Man of Shadows. His healing touch gave her just enough reason to get out of bed each day.

A mirror on her desk allowed her to look upon her reflection. Her cheeks had sunken in, and her eyes…Weren’t they once green? Now they were void of color, black like coffee. She turned away from her reflection, disgusted with herself. Her neck hurt with the movement. It took effort these days to move, effort to breathe, effort to even think clearly. She couldn’t remember anything that had happened months ago, and was having a hard time keeping track of current occurrences. She knew vessels had fallen…vessels from space. Legion’s vessels. Something from Star Wars, something alien had come to their planet and decided to wreak havoc on it, to wrap it in darkness. But why? Am I somehow responsible for their presence here?

The Man of Shadows constantly reassured her that he had everything under control. Everything. He promised her the world would be hers, soon. It was a sobering thought to know she would have her insatiable desire for supremacy satisfied before long. The sanctuary zones, the barcodes, the credit system—all set up long ago and initiated, fueled even, by the fallen vessels. By the darkness sweeping the globe.

I just have to keep it together long enough to enjoy my rise.

She leaned back in her leather chair and closed her eyes. She longed for his touch. She always longed for it shortly before he arrived to give it, although worry plagued her anticipation. She knew he was still mad that they had lost track of the reporter, Ericka Shane. After the woman aired the video proving President Stone had been complacent in the murder of the vice president, the riots began. Many of them broke out within the sanctuary zones, but she’d heard rumors of intense violence outside the zones, in the Broken Lands. Many of the president’s supporters had been slaughtered by those who wanted Amanda Stone out of the presidency.

The Armed Forces of the United States had been thinned significantly since the vessels fell and Legion began wiping out the human species. Spreading them even thinner to break up fights in the areas outside the sanctuary zones was not on President Stone’s priority list. She kept the remainder of the military in her sanctuary zones, to keep a close eye on things and to let those in the Broken Lands kill themselves off. The Man of Shadows promised that help was on the way. Help to ensure that the violence in the Broken Lands didn’t spill into President Stone’s precious utopias.

The door to her office opened, and a Secret Service agent stepped into the room. “Madame President, the Speaker would like to see you.”

She stared at the agent for a moment, a man she didn’t recognize. The last few days—weeks really—had been a blur, but it seemed each time she turned around, another agent she didn’t recognize was greeting her. And they all seemed so mechanical, showing little to no emotion, moving almost like robots. Either she was losing her mind day by day, or the Man of Shadows—the Speaker as her agents called him—was behind this.

“Did you hear me, Madame President?”

She wiped the blurriness from her eyes and nodded half-heartedly. The agent left, closing the door behind him, leaving her to her isolation. Fear filled her insides, making her nauseous. She didn’t want to see the Speaker. His touch cooled her aches, but whenever he left, she always felt emptier than before he came.

“Amanda.”

She looked up from her desk and watched a black mist pass through the wall on the far end of her office and glide through the empty space.

Her anticipation grew as the black mist coalesced in front of her desk and materialized into a man dressed in a dark suit and black fedora. Her body trembled, and her lips quivered. She fought to control the shakes, grabbing hold of the arms of her leather chair, gripping tightly, yelling at herself to keep control of her flesh.

The man with no face—it was hidden beneath the shadows the fedora spread across his body—tipped his hat at her. She clutched the chair arms tighter. Cold sweat broke out across her skin.

“I come here bearing a gift for you…”

“Your touch,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Why do you fight it? You remind me of many other humans I have crossed paths with. So sure of yourself. So full of courage—or what you think is courage. It’s really just false hope. Frailty.”

She grasped the arms of the chair even tighter, sure her fingernails would break off at any moment. She said nothing, simply stared at the man.

“Speechless. You have come a long way, Amanda. You used to speak, to spew forth words like a sewer spews its filth. Now you sit before me, frozen in fear, encased in your own sweat. It is insulting.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yes, an apology. Apologizing is all you humans know how to do once you’re faced with someone greater than yourself. Your women apologize to the men who beat them. Your parents apologize to the children they discipline. These are things I don’t understand, but they make some sense to me because I understand you are a weak species, strong and courageous, so ready to face the odds until one comes along who is stronger than you. Then you yield, you give up, you offer your loyalty to those greater than yourself.

“The greatest travesty I have witnessed from your species is the pathetic way you apologize to your false gods, especially to the Invisible One, requesting forgiveness for your human nature. If you believe in this god, this one who doesn’t show his face or form to your world, and you believe he’s the creator of your species, of the galaxy as a whole, then why would you apologize for the human nature he instilled within you? It doesn’t make sense to me. And things that don’t make sense to me upset me.”

Amanda released her grip on the chair and let her hands scratch her knees. She couldn’t remember a time when he had been in such a foul mood.

“Glance upon yourself in the mirror.” He reached over the desk and shoved the mirror in front of her face. She turned away. “You can’t, can you? You can’t because you hate what you see. You are weak, and you don’t want to be weak. But human nature is weak. It was made to be weak, so you would be forced to worship the ones who created you.”

Amanda felt her lungs collapsing and breath leaving her body at a rapid pace. She was hyperventilating, and the world was blacking out around her. The Speaker touched her with his gloved hand, blanketing her in his soothing darkness. She closed her eyes and felt her body melt into the chair. Her pain—the soreness in her neck, the pressure in her lungs, the dizziness—all got carried away along the current of his cool touch.

Minutes later, the room came back into focus. She sat tall in the chair, her hands on the surface of the desk, her head clear.

The Speaker stared at her as if she owed him money for the supernatural experience. “We have issues to discuss.”

She straightened her pantsuit and took a deep breath, feeling foolish. A strange awkwardness accompanied these “healing sessions.”

“It is pathetic how you crave my touch to this extreme. It only further proves my observations about how brittle you humans truly are.”

She heard what he said but didn’t care. The vibrations of his touch softened her muscles, slid across her bones, and traveled through her bloodstream. She felt his presence, dark and soothing, swimming through her like an all-consuming drug.

He huffed and turned away from the desk. When President Stone looked up, she found him staring at her antique bookshelf housing priceless volumes on American history.

“What issues?” she asked, more to prove that she had been listening than to take any real interest in what he had to say.

“You ask, yet you don’t care.” He picked up an old hardcover volume on World War II. He paged through the book, stopping every few seconds to glance at the information inside. “Do you know why Hitler was so successful?”

She sighed. She hated talking about the past. She wanted to talk about the future. Her future.

“Hitler was successful because he was hungry for power, and he didn’t let anything stand in his way of obtaining it. You…” He closed the book and set it back on the shelf. “You allow too many things—too many people—to get in the way. Right now, the world is yours for the taking. Yet your downfall will be your inability to follow through.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know.” He made his way back to the desk. “Ericka Shane has been found. Nathan Pierce is building a rebellion. Daisy Pierce is about to be executed.”

“I know. I have teams looking for Nathan as we speak. Same with Ericka. And I plan to have the execution televised for the entire world to see.”

The Speaker slammed his gloved fists on the desk. “Your present efforts are not good enough to yield the results we need. You must find Nathan. You must crush his rebellion before it can get any stronger. You must find Ericka Shane and murder her in the streets for the world to see. Everyone under you—those who worship and serve you loyally, and those who oppose you—must see your hands covered in blood so they know who they’re dealing with.”

“I am doing everything I can! I have limited power, and most of that limited power is being used to run the sanctuary zones.”

“That is not good enough. Those who oppose you are in the wilderness, underground, hiding out, forging their power into weapons they will, one day very soon, use against you. You must strike them now, abort them while they are weak and somewhat disorganized.”

“How the hell do I do that?!” President Stone took a deep breath to calm herself. Yelling at the Speaker would do her no good. She needed him, needed his touch. The last thing she wanted was to turn him away.

The man’s tone suddenly sounded overly serene, as if the outburst just moments earlier had never occurred. “There are plans in place that may thwart your enemies, but there are no guarantees. You must do what you can. Especially in regard to Nathan and his rebellion.”

“It’s not his rebellion. It’s Absolute’s. And it isn’t even a threat. Nathan’s sister will be killed soon, and he will have no way to stop it.”

“Hitler was successful because he did not underestimate his enemies. He knew who they were and what they were capable of. He worked his terror based on those possibilities.”

“Enough about Hitler.”

The Speaker made his way to the bookshelf again and stood in front of it, scanning the volumes on the shelves. “I’m sure it would be much easier to incinerate this world. It’s certainly overdo for a purge. But not yet, I suppose. No, everything has a time and a season. Now is the Season of Shadow. Next, will be the Season of Blood.”

President Stone had no idea what he meant by the seasons. She determined to do her best to find and stop Nathan and Ericka.

The Speaker started walking toward the wall at the far end of the office, the same wall through which he entered the room. “I will see you again soon, Amanda. Make sure I have reason to return in a less foul mood.”

She watched him break into black mist and pass through the wall, leaving her there alone to feel empty and used.