For I Could Lift My Finger and Black Out the Sun (27 page)

10

Another officer walked into view through the glass, at first studying some papers he held. Then he stopped, noticed the other officers, and stammered something. I couldn’t hear him, but it looked like he was saying
What the—

Then, like an old tree giving way and falling, the officer drooped to the ground, unconscious.

I pressed my hands against the glass wall of the chief’s office. I was trapped. The only way out was through the room full of sleeping officers.
No, they’re dead
, my mind insisted.

It could only mean one thing. Who could do this? Who
would
do this?

Sol was somewhere near.

I became aware that I could hear or maybe feel a sound. A beacon.

And out of the corner of my eye, on the far side of the outer office, I saw movement. A shadowy form.

I stepped back from the glass, steeling myself as best I could. I was deeply afraid of Sol, but I had chosen this path. Sure, meeting him when I was blocked from all escape wasn’t in my plans. Hell, I didn’t have a plan. But if I’d bothered to make one, it would have been different, for sure.

Sol wore a dark outfit with a hood, his face remaining in shadows as he approached the door. He stepped over the officer on the floor, around the desks with sprawled bodies.

I backed up, almost bumping against the rear wall, then cursing myself for looking scared. Intentionally, I took a step forward.
This is for Holly, one way or the other.
I would not meet Sol while cowering in a corner.

The door opened and he walked in, lowering his hood.

And I didn’t recognize him.

Except I did. It wasn’t Sol.

“You… ,” I said, trying to conjure the name from my dream. “Your name is Petrus.”

The dark-haired, dark-skinned man in front of me laughed once, a dry bark. “That is very good, John,” he said. “Yes, you are correct. I understand Sol’s interest in you a little better now. You will have to show me how you did that.”

How I did what?
I thought. I had a dream, he was in it. But how much of a dream was it when he turned out to be
real
?

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “What do you want?”

Petrus gave a little bow. “Consider me your escort,” he said. “I am here to take you to Sol.”

“How can I trust you? You killed all those men,” I pointed to the officers in the outer room.

Petrus laughed again. “No, I did not.”

“Then who did?”

“No one, John. Please. Just because I have
power
does not make me
mad
with it
.
These men will wake up in a few hours.” Petrus even rolled his eyes at me. I immediately didn’t like him.

“Okay, fine. But why should I go with you?”

Again, a scoff. “You will do as you wish, John,” he said. “But I have been waiting for you, monitoring the police bands. As you can imagine, finding you was big news. But you’re trying to find
Sol
. And he has dampened his sound. You know the sound I mean?”

“His beacon?” I answered before stopping to consider that maybe I shouldn’t.

Petrus wrinkled his brow, considering. “Beacon?” He gave a smirk and a little nod. “Yes, that’s a decent name for it. Yet, now it is gone, correct? Or mostly so.” This time I nodded. “No matter. If you come with me, I will take you to him. Then, what happens between the two of you is your business and his. Again, consider me your escort.” Even trying to sound pleasant, there was a tinge of something in Petrus’s voice. Anger? Bitterness?

“And if I refuse?”

Petrus shrugged. “Your sister — Holly, correct? — she is with Sol now. If you refuse, then I suppose you may never see her again.” He didn’t sound terribly concerned, either way.

Involuntarily, my fists clenched. I was damned, no matter what I chose. Somehow I’d hoped my time on the road not only would lead me to Sol but also would help me come up with some sort of plan. Then, finding him on my own, I could assess the situation before making a move.

But without the beacon, I’d been flying blind, unsure of where to go. I either rejected Petrus’s offer and kept flailing, probably never getting anywhere, or I accepted and let him deliver me to Sol like a package in the mail, practically gift-wrapped.

I couldn’t let Holly down.

“Let’s go,” I said, picking up my backpack and walking past Petrus through the outer room, not even looking back to see if he was following.

11

A nondescript four-door sedan was waiting for us in the parking lot. Petrus slid behind the wheel and unlocked the passenger side for me.

“I think you’ll find this slightly more efficient than walking,” he said, giving me a sideways glance.

I tossed my pack in the back seat and got in, and within minutes we were on the main road. We drove in silence. I noticed from the road signs that we were heading north.
I was going completely the wrong way
. If nothing else, at least that made me feel vindicated for choosing to go with Petrus.

Miles flew by before he decided to try to break the ice. “Tell me about yourself, John Black,” Petrus said.

“No.”

“You are an angry one, it seems.”

I turned to face him. “Why should I tell you anything about me?” I said. “You’ve been waiting for me, you’re with Sol, and he knows enough about me. You probably know
a lot
about me.” Petrus made a little smirk that told me I was right. “But I don’t know anything about
you
.”

“Not true, John. You know my name. How is that?”

I remained silent, thinking the less he knew, the better. Besides, he might laugh if I told him I’d had a dream about him.

“As you like it,” Petrus said. “I will tell you something about myself, then. You’ve already gathered my name, somehow. Do you know where I am from, as well, John?” I shook my head. “Ah. Well, I am originally from Indonesia — do you know of Indonesia?” This time I nodded. Bunch of islands in Southeast Asia. “But as you might suspect, I have not been there for some time. I have been living in a small city to the north, just a couple of hundred miles from your own hometown, for the past, hmm, 10 years or so. I came to this country to go to college, then graduate school. I have a master’s degree in mathematics, but do you want to guess what I was doing for a living before my powers came to me?”

I shrugged. “Solving math problems, I guess.”

“Hardly. The most complex math problems I faced on a daily basis were what change to give my fares. I drove a taxi cab, John.” Then Petrus laughed again. “I suppose I am doing so again, right now. Will you be able to pay the fare at the end of our trip together? I wonder.”

In the other lane, a police car crested a hill in front of us, heading in our direction. Although I knew Petrus was my only way of getting to Sol and helping Holly, I secretly wanted him to be seen. But of course, Petrus had powers, too. I sensed him concentrating, calmly directing his mind toward the officer about to pass us.

And the patrol car sped by without so much as a second glance. Barring a miracle, there was no way anyone would spot us along our drive.

“You know how that was done, yes, John?”

“Yes. It’s easy.”

“Well, I am glad you think so. So your abilities lean toward the mind, is that correct?”

“Hard to say, actually. I’m pretty good in a fight, too.” I was being a jerk. I don’t think there were any ground rules saying I had to be nice.

“You see, John? I get to learn more about you all the time.” Okay, Petrus was being a jerk, too. “Where was I? Ah, yes, I drove a taxi. It was not something I desired to do, I can assure you. With no offense to some of the very nice drivers I met and became friends with, I wanted to be a professor of mathematics. I applied to every university and college I could, but there was nothing available. Or, when a decent job was open, someone else got it. I was feeling quite disheartened by the whole ‘American Dream,’ you see. I spent a lot of time by myself, stewing over these disappointments, wondering if the future held any brightness at all. And one day, a bitter cold winter’s day, I remember returning to my apartment and wishing all of my bad fortunes would just go away. Do you know what happened then, John?”

“You won the lottery?” Staring out the window at the passing miles, I listened to Petrus’s story only because there was nothing else to do. Though I have to admit there was a part of me that was curious how
others
came to be the way that I was. Not everyone got hit by a car.

“Ha. No, not in the way you mean, but in another, more profound way, yes. Yes, I really did win the lottery. As did you, it would seem. I was sitting in front of a small table, and as I made my wish, the table was pushed away from me, by my mind. It moved several feet, so it was not simply my imagination at play. I am no
dukun
, though I have known a few during my life — a dukun is like a shaman, a sort of healer or even sorcerer, where I come from. In any event, the idea of mystical powers is not so foreign for my people. I didn’t know what I had done to awaken the powers within me, but I quickly accepted it as real and something I could control. With practice, I realized I could move objects, control minds. It was really quite an amazing time. I am sure you must have gone through something similar.”

“Yup,” I said, feigning that I was ignoring him, when truly I was fascinated. His powers had just come to him. Maybe his disappointment with life was the catalyst he needed. My car accident, it seemed, was a significantly more dramatic jump-start. Somehow I knew that if I looked at Petrus’s cells under a microscope, I’d find those little thorns. And I had my theory about where the thorns came from, and how we had all become hosts for some alien parasite. I considered saying all this to Petrus, but again opted for silence. I wasn’t ready to play any of my cards just yet. After a long pause, though, I did realize I had one question. “But how did you end up with Sol?”

“Well, I think everyone saw him on television, probably worldwide. As soon as I did, I knew he was like me, had powers. In fact, he seemed
more
powerful. Then I felt the…
beacon
, as you call it, and I knew I wanted to follow it. No question. If he could help me tap more of my inner strength, I could become, well, really, whatever I wanted. No more sitting at home angry over no future. I had an opportunity to become the future, and I took it. I followed his beacon and found him in the capital. It was like fate.” Petrus then gave me a long, slow look. At the time, I had no idea what it meant. But I found out soon after. Very, very soon after. “I was the first, John. The first to join Sol. You could say I am sort of his right hand-man. Or his top lieutenant. Which is of course why he chose me for the very important job of bringing you to him.”

It was a total lie.

12

Rolling along highways I’d never seen before, we kept going, generally north.

After a while, I grew bored — even more bored than when I first started looking out the window, trying to tune Petrus out — and did what kids generally do on long car rides. I began to fade off to sleep. Several times I jerked my head up, willing myself to stay awake, not trusting Petrus one bit. But I had been sleeping in a makeshift hammock in trees. In comparison, the soft fabric of the car seat was too much. In time, I was out.

I fell into another dream. Not as clear or lifelike as before, but it felt real nonetheless. I was in a desert, vast and empty. No, not quite empty.

Petrus appeared before me. “This way,” he said.

There was a dark form on the horizon, and we began to walk toward it. It may have been a mirage, because we never seemed to get closer. The shape was always just a black dot on the edge of our vision. Still, we kept walking.

Petrus didn’t say another word, didn’t even turn around. He just walked. I followed.

Above us, the hot sun sat locked in perpetual noon, scorching the land. Although it was a dream, I swear I could feel myself wilting under the harsh glare, wishing for two things over and over: to reach the dark object on the horizon, and to block out the sun.

Forever later, a voice called from behind me. I turned.

Sol was there, far in the distance. “Where are you going, John?” he said.

Confused, I stood motionless, the heat shimmering in waves off every surface. The image of Sol wavered, then disappeared.

Too close, Petrus’s voice shattered the silence. “What makes
you
so special?” Turning back, I found him standing right next to me. Slowly he raised one open hand toward me.

I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. I wanted to keep his hand away from me.

I felt an itch. Something inside me. Something that I didn’t want there. But still, I felt I could do nothing.

I pulled inward, wishing for it to stop, to simply go away. Outwardly, I huddled down on the sand of the desert, hands coming over my head to protect me from… what?

Just as I retreated into myself, an object caught my eye. Somehow I knew immediately that it was the object that had forever been on the horizon, and it was suddenly quite near, quite clear.

A wheelchair.

An empty wheelchair.

The itch continued inside my mind, but it was inconsequential compared to what I saw. The wheelchair was empty. My sister was gone.

“No!” I shouted in my dream. The Petrus in front of me flinched, his hand no longer pointing to me, instead holding one side of his head. I screamed: “Get out!”

I woke up just as the car swerved violently, across the double-yellow line, just missing a passing car, into the wrong lane, then past that, to the far shoulder. Soon we would careen into the line of trees that flanked the road. We were moving fast, so I knew the impact would be bad. I braced myself.

Beside me, Petrus’s head lolled toward the steering wheel, then suddenly jerked up. He slammed the wheel right and regained the road. As luck would have it, traffic was sparse and Petrus got us back in the northbound lane without further incident.

What was that?
I thought. But I knew what I had felt. That itch. Petrus had been in my mind while I was sleeping. Had he pushed some idea there? Would I even know if he did? What if I’d just become his puppet?

No, I didn’t think I’d have those sorts of thoughts if he’d gained control. After all, I assumed the first thing he’d do would be to push my mind to trust him, and I still didn’t.

Trying to act like nothing happened, Petrus looked over and gave a weak smile. “Everything all right, John?”

Oh sure, everything’s fine. You just tried to take control of my mind. But it didn’t work, you bastard
. “Stay out of my head,” I told him.

His eyes remained on the road ahead.