The Creation: Chaos Rising (13 page)

Chapter 18

The fire burned with a white-hot intensity, searing Nina's eyes as she desperately tried to claw her way through the wreckage. If she could just make it to the theatre's flaming entryway she knew she would be safe.

All around her the screams and whimpers of several other patrons assailed her ears but there was nothing she could do. The wall of fire was coming closer. Already she could feel its deadly touch as flecks of charred debris began raining down from the massive screen in front of her. If she could just make it to that door…!

The screech of tearing metal sounded loudly over the roar of the flames. She risked a glance upward; her eyes widening in horror. A massive speaker tore free of its heat-damaged clamps and crashed down in front of her, blocking her escape.

"No," she screamed as the flames licked at her skin.
"NO!"

"Easy, Nina," a soothing voice penetrated the haze of smoke and confusion. "You're safe."

"Safe?" Nina blinked several times, her head swiveling around while she tried to discern her surroundings. "Gabriel," she cried in relief when she realized that it was him sitting beside her on the bed.

"In the flesh," he whispered. He took gentle hold of her trembling hand. "Was it another vision?"

"It was more like a nightmare." She moved his hand to the back of her neck.

The Celemor took the hint and began a gentle message, infusing his touch with a small amount of the Celestial energy coursing through his body.

Nina reveled in the unusual sensation. "That feels
wonderful
. Is this something you learned in Celemor School?"

Gabriel smiled. "More or less." He readjusted his position on the bed so he could bring his other hand to bear on her knotted muscles. "So tell me about your nightmare."

Nina stared at the Canadian skyline visible through her bedroom window. When she finally spoke her tone was subdued. "I was at the IMAX Theater, the one at the Henry Ford Museum I think, and the place was packed…" Her voice faltered as the image of burning bodies loomed before her. Gabriel gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze, and she continued. "From what I could tell, something exploded behind the screen catching the front seats on fire. After that everything seemed to be burning."

"Sounds pretty intense. Perhaps you should putt in a call to that Thomlin fellow; tell him to pass the word on to the theater so they can check their equipment."

A touch of reluctance stirred in Nina's chest. "I don't know, Gabe. Maybe this really
was
just a bad dream."

"No, it was definitely a premonition."

She turned to him with questioning eyes. "How do you know that?"

He removed his hands from her shoulders, and nodded toward her dresser's mirror on the opposite wall. "Take a look for your self."

Nina turned her head and stiffened. A yellow aura was emanating from her body.  "I'm…glowing!"

"It's the after-effects of the Celestial energy you expended during your vision," the Celemor explained.

Nina brought her hands and arms to her face for a closer examination. "But I've been having these crazy scenes for close to four months, now. I've never turned into a light bulb before."

"Actually you have."

Nina blinked in surprise. "When?"

"The day Quinlan and Sanders first came to see you at the Center. You had a vision about one of the construction workers."

"Mike's saw blade," she muttered. She gave him an odd look. "You were there?"

"I was watching you from the rafters. The moment the vision hit, you're body was wreathed in Celestial light."

Nina gave a slight shudder. "How come nobody said anything?"

"The effect is only visible to beings with Celestially enhanced vision."

"Then how come
I'm
able to see it?"

Gabriel gave her a knowing look. "You're a
Harbinger."

An excited gleam appeared in Nina's eyes. "Does this mean I'll be able to do all sorts of cool, superman stuff too?"

"It's difficult to say. The Emergence process is different for each individual subjected to it. Like the Harbingers and Prophets before you, I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait and see."

Nina shot him a trenchant look. "You're not the most reassuring kid on the block, are you?"

Gabriel smiled. "Gradually discovering your abilities is part of the process."

Nina gave him a final scowl then turned once again to her iridescent reflection. "So what do I do now?"

Gabriel gave her hands a brief squeeze. "Figuring that out for your-self is also part of this process. But in this case I think the answer is clear." He nodded toward the cordless phone resting in its cradle on her nightstand then vanished.

"A lot of help you are," Nina muttered. She gave her reflection a final glance then snatched up the phone. Heaving a heavy sigh, she began punching in the number that had become all too familiar over the past several weeks.

*

Officer Jake Thomlin stared impassively out the window of his minuscule office on the third floor of
Detroit's central Police Station located at Six Hundred Beaubien. The office's corner position afforded him a decent view of the city's bustling downtown, a distraction that kept him from going mad with boredom.

A car accident during the high-speed chase of a suspect had left Thomlin partially disabled. To young to retire yet unfit for active patrol, the displaced officer had been reassigned to the Department's fledgling Psychic Unit or PU, an acronym which had earned the group the less than glorious nickname: The Stink Squad.

Thomlin had been less than thrilled with his new assignment, but thankful there was still a place in the Department for someone in his position.

One of the numerous phones situated on his desk began to ring, and Thomlin swiveled his chair around to answer it. "Psychic Unit; Officer Thomlin here," he spoke into the hand set. "How may I help you?"

"Hello Officer."

Thomlin stiffened in his seat.

Most of the calls he fielded from the numerous weirdoes claiming to have had this or that vision were never substantiated, but occasionally a legitimate tip came through. One such case was the caller currently on the line. Over the past two months, information from the mysterious woman who called her self Del had led to the prevention of several heinous crimes, including a recent assassination attempt against Detroit's scandal-ridden Mayor.

"'Morning
Del; you got something for me?"

"Possibly;
I saw an explosion at the Henry Ford Imax due to a malfunction with the equipment behind the main screen."

Thomlin's hand tightened on the receiver. "Any idea when?"

"Definitely today; and judging by the number of people trapped in the theater I'd say it was during one of the evening shows. I hope that's enough for you. Good bye Officer Thomlin."

"
Del, wait," Thomlin called out.

"Yes?"

"The Mayor called yesterday."

"And,"
Del prompted after a brief pause.

"He wanted me to convey his thanks to you the next time you made contact. Swat found the bomb. It was attached to the port side motor of his yacht just like you saw it. From what I hear it was a real amateur setup. The folks in forensic were able to trace it back to the source."

"Let me guess. That nutcase from Flint he's dating?"

"
Was
dating," Thomlin replied with a nasty laugh. "Apparently home girl didn't appreciate being dumped by our illustrious leader, and decided to exact a little vengeance. From what the shrinks told me, she got the idea to blow him up from a movie, and found a make-it-yourself bomb site on the web. It's scary what a person can Google these days."

"Yes it is,"
Del agreed with a soft chuckle. "I'm just glad everything turned out for the best. Maybe this little incident will teach His Honor to choose his mates more carefully."

"I doubt it. The man's a decent politician, but his taste in women leaves a lot to be desired."

Del chuckled again. "Well maybe someday he'll meet the right one."

"Yeah maybe; a
nd speaking of meeting, why don't you come down to the station yourself. A lot of the higher ups feel you deserve some serious recognition. Your visions have saved quite a few of lives."

Several seconds passed before
Del responded. "I appreciate the offer, but I think it best if I remain anonymous. Too much recognition tends to have a negative impact. Have a good day Officer Thomlin. Hopefully you won't be hearing from me for a while."

The line went dead and Thomlin gently placed the receiver back into its cradle. "Yeah," he whispered as he pulled up the number for the IMAX on his computer's directory. "Hopefully."

*

Nina stared hard at the phone, replaying the conversation with Thomlin over in her mind. She was actually being credited with saving the Mayor's life. How wild was that? Maybe she should take Thomlin up on his offer of a little public appreciation.

Several vivid fantasies flashed before her eyes: The Mayor giving her the key to the city; subsequent interviews on The Talk and The View. Hell it could happen. Plus the notoriety could generate a whirlwind of support that would really benefit the Center.

Or destroy it,
she reasoned as reality settled back in. Yeah, a few big wigs were singing her praises now. Who's to say she wouldn't be labeled as some kind of freak, or phony. Such negative publicity would ruin her reputation in the philanthropic circles, not to mention the community at large.

No it was best to maintain her distance, and content her self with the knowledge that her peculiar talents had brought about some positive changes in the world.

"Now that you know what you are, you may discover the reason for your Emergence," Gabriel's words echoed through her mind. For the first time she began to take heart in her new found position as a Harbinger. Maybe God hadn't dealt her such a bad hand after all.

She also recognized that her feelings for her stalwart guardian had begun to change. Over the weeks her, initial attraction to him had grown into a genuine interest. There was something oddly compelling about his brooding nature, and for the life of her she couldn't figure out what it was.

But then maybe that was it.

The majority of the men she encountered, both professionally and privately, generally fell into two categories: arrogant, wannabe world-conquerors or needy, immature jerks. Gabriel's calm, almost stoic demeanor was a refreshing change; particularly in someone so young. Nina had never asked him his age.  Judging by his appearance, she assumed him to be right around her own thirty three, give or take a year or two. Maybe he had what Maria termed an "old soul".

Whatever it was she liked it. She had also come to enjoy the numerous chats the two of them shared throughout each passing day, and the emotional rapport slowly developing between them.

Gabriel had easily identified Nina's resentment toward Miguel Delcielo, the father that had abandoned her, as the motivating force behind her philanthropic pursuits. Several in-depth discussions on the subject with the Celemor had purged Nina of most of her anger, but had done little to alleviate her regret at having never met him.

The Celemor's compassion
had
helped Nina come to terms with the lingering grief from her Mother's sudden passing, allowing her a welcome sense of closure. He had even taken to accompanying the Harbinger on the bi-monthly visits she made to her mother's grave, a gesture that only served to further endear him to her.

Nina was less than pleased with the limited amount of information she'd managed to pry from him. She knew that he once had a wife and daughter, and that both were now deceased, but not the circumstances surrounding their deaths. Nor had he been forthcoming with any details
concerning his life prior to becoming a Celemor. At times, his reluctance to confide in her was frustrating, but Nina never pushed him to share more than he was willing to.

Building a good relationship took time, and she had already decided that forging one with her solemn guardian was worth the effort.

Occasionally the circumstances of their situation would impinge upon her sensibilities. When that happened, she would content herself the knowledge that her bizarre twist of fate was indeed allowing her to positively affect the lives of others. In the greater scheme of things, that's what truly mattered.

The excitement generated from her new perspective stayed with her throughout the day as she carried out her normal routine of meetings, meetings, and more meetings. It wasn't until later that evening, as she sat at the desk in her office which overlooked the Center's
gymnasium that things took a turn for the worse.

Several youths were engaged in a game basketball, the noise from their efforts echoing through the gym's walls to her office providing a spirited backdrop as Nina worked diligently trying to balance the Center's budget. For the most part, everything seemed in order, but after a solid hour of number crunching, the beleaguered woman decided to take a break. She rose from her chair to give her stiff muscles a much needed stretch, and a wall of fire engulfed her.