Relentless
Authors: Robin Parrish
| Relentless |
| The Dominion Trilogy [1] |
| Robin Parrish |
| Baker Books (2007) |
In the space of a breath, what he thought was his life...shattered. Grant Borrows has been Shifted- in the silence between heartbeats, his whole life fundamentally altered. There's another man in the world wearing his face and living his life. What's more, the man staring back from his mirror is a stranger.But the changes don't stop at skin-level. Inexplicably, he's able to affect objects around him by simply thinking about them. And as he soon learns, he's become the central figure in a vast web of intrigue that stretches from an underground global conspiracy to a prophecy dating back over seven thousand years. Enemies and allies find him at every turn, but one thing they learn all too soon is that you don't want to push Grant Borrows too far...Can destiny be undone?The players are ready. The game is in motion. And the pace is: Relentless.(The Dominion Trilogy Book 1)
RELENTLESS
RELENTLESS
THE DOMINION TRILOGY: BOOK 1
ROBIN PARRISH
© 2006 Robin Parrish
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2010
Ebook corrections 6.21.2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Scripture quotations are from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION
®
. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-1-4412-0557-5
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Cover design: Brand Navigation, LLC
Bill Chiaravalle, Russ McIntosh
Cover images: Getty, Photodisc
Cover photography: Steve Gardner, Pixelworks Studio
Contents
1. Los Angeles, California Thirty Years Later
Somewhere in the world, an unbearable cry pierced the darkness.
It was the sound of pain.
The sound of birth.
And the sound of death.
It was a sound that would change everything. . . .
1
Los Angeles, California
Thirty Years Later
Collin Boyd stepped off the Metro bus on his way to work, and across the street he saw
himself
strolling down the sidewalk.
A stubborn but warm February rain was pouring hard across the concrete canyons of downtown. His foot had landed ankle-deep in a drainage puddle, and his half-broken umbrella wasn’t extending as it should. But the umbrella, which had rarely seen use, quickly fell out of his hands and he no longer noticed the rain. His eyes were fixed, his head turning slowly to follow the other man down the opposite side of the street.
It wasn’t until someone shouted from behind that he finally got his legs moving again.
The man he watched with rapt attention weaved his way casually through the crowd, headed in the direction of Collin’s workplace. He wasn’t a man who merely
resembled
Collin. He
was
him. The same face, the same body, the same walk. He wore the clothes and raincoat Collin had put on that morning. He carried Collin’s briefcase.
It was only then that Collin noticed he no longer
had
his briefcase. When had he seen it last? On the bus? Before that? He’d been so groggy all morning, he couldn’t place it.
And what was that on the man’s wrist? Collin clenched a hand around his own wrist, feeling for what was missing.
He’s wearing Granddad’s bracelet . . .
That line of thought was gone once the other man began fussing with the piece of unruly hair up front that Collin could never seem to keep in place.
This impostor wasn’t a twin or duplicate. He was
him
, in every way. Every look, every gesture, every expression. And he was walking to work in the rain, under L.A.’s towering skyscrapers, brushing shoulders with countless citizens and tourists.
As if everything were exactly as it should be.
Without ever deciding to, Collin moved his legs. He crossed the bustling downtown street, just aware enough of the cars, buses, and bicycles zipping by to dodge them. But his eyes remained on the man who looked like him, who checked his watch—
No, that’s
my
watch
, he reminded himself—and then picked up his pace, apparently realizing he was about to be late for work.
Late for
my
work
, Collin stupidly thought again, his mind spinning.
This was a lie. It had to be a lie.
A twisted joke.
But then, who would play such a prank? He hadn’t had any close friends since childhood, and even then he knew that his ‘‘friends’’ had been forced to play with him by the orphanage staff. He couldn’t think of a single acquaintance he had now who had anything resembling a sense of humor.
Collin increased his own speed, tailing his doppelganger from about fifteen paces behind. The impossibility of the situation seemed like an absurd thing to think about right now as he spied on himself walking to work in the rain, yet nothing else entered his mind.
It couldn’t be impossible if he was looking right at it.
What am I supposed to say if I catch up to him?
Maybe he’s my clone. Are they cloning humans yet? Eh, I don’t know.
He’s living my life. He’s walking in my shoes on his way to my job,
living my life.
Did he
steal
my life?
Maybe I’m sitting somewhere in a padded room right now. ‘‘Careful
there, honey,’’ the kind nurse is saying to my slack-jawed, vacant expression.
‘‘You’re drooling all over your straitjacket . . .’’
Collin’s adrenaline surged, and the confusion of the moment was overpowered by a rising agitation.
The other man approached a street corner, and even though the light on the other side was blinking DON’T WALK, he crossed anyway, nearly jogging.
Collin broke into a run and hit the crosswalk full bore. He was halfway across, his eyes still following his quarry, when a blaring horn filled his ears, followed by the metallic screech of brakes. He barely managed to jump backward a few feet before a Metro bus filled the space where he’d just been standing. The angry driver shouted a few choice phrases in Collin’s direction, followed by an emphatic hand gesture.
Collin gave a dazed wave. As the bus chugged slowly along, passing within inches of his face, his stunned reflection gazed back at him in the glass windows as they passed by.
He didn’t recognize the man in the glass.
Time seemed to shudder. The sounds of vehicles, store owners, tourists, businesspeople, and even planes flying overhead all fell away, until he heard nothing but the rush of blood surging past his ears and pounding in his temples. There was nothing wrong with his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to get them to focus. And he felt a sharp pain in his stomach, as if he might vomit.
Somehow he stumbled his way across the street and managed to hold on to his breakfast—
Did I
have
breakfast?
—and stopped to rest on the sidewalk, the chase erased from his thoughts.
The rain had stopped. He stood under the small canvas awning of a tiny high-end boutique with a floor-to-ceiling storefront window. He looked up, expecting to see mannequins on the other side of the glass, but instead, reflected back at him, was a man he’d never seen before.
Everything about his appearance was unfamiliar. He was taller, appeared to have a rather meaty, athletic build, and he wore high-end clothes much too rugged and in style for Collin’s taste. Gone was the tiny, balding spot on top of his head, replaced now by thick brown locks trimmed neatly above his ears. He wasn’t wearing his glasses—in fact, he didn’t seem to need them. He had a few days’ growth of facial hair. Even his flabby midsection was missing.
I’ve gone mad
.
He stared at his reflection for minutes on end, unable to do anything else.
Who am I?
That other man—he’s me. And I’m . . . not.
Did we switch?
A stranger looked through his eyes, taking him in.
And not just any stranger, it occurred to him. He was as close to a perfect specimen of manhood as Collin allowed might exist. An absence of creases around the eyes and a naturally pleasant expression indicated a calm, confident, well-adjusted individual. One who was clearly bogged out of his mind at the moment, but still.