The Watchers (14 page)

“I know it's delicate, but isn't that what we're paying him for? Isn't that why you've been hyping this guy to me all this time? His ability to pull off long-distance or high-difficulty harvests without being caught?”

The Elder turned back to the monitor, unable to contain his curiosity. It bore a close-up of Abby Sherman, luminous and, in the morning light, beautiful despite her prolonged hospital stay. She was speaking intensely.

“Hold on. I have to hear what this little snot is saying. It may be too late. . . .”

ABBY'S HOSPITAL ROOM
—THAT MOMENT

“It was the same person, the same spirit living inside that little baby. That's the only way I can say it. What I felt coming from that infant was so powerful that there's no way I could mistake it. As He carried me out of this room, He was communicating to me somehow. I'd call it speech because it was very specific—He was comforting me, calming me, telling me how much He loved me—only I couldn't say for sure whether the words were spoken or I even heard words at all. I just felt them register in my own spirit, and I knew exactly what He was saying and who was speaking.

“I know it all sounds airy-fairy, vague and New Agey, but the experience of it was very intense and real. He was telling me, ‘Do not be afraid, Abby. Let me show you what lies ahead, and you will not fear it any longer.'

“Because I wasn't in my body anymore. We'd left it behind. I actually looked down on myself, lying trembling and wide-eyed on the bed. The rest of the hospital floated past under us. I saw panels and wires and darkness, followed by more floors, beds, and nurses walking, then more beds until finally we were shooting past the rooftop into the night air over Los Angeles.

“And you know what else is strange? As incredible as it might sound to float up high like that, it meant almost nothing to me. That is, nothing compared to the wonder of who was carrying me. I didn't care about the sights near as much as the feeling pouring into my soul from the One guiding me.

“Man, I had no idea I could feel so much love. Of any kind. I remember my mother's love from a long time ago, magnified the way we all distort old memories, and it was strong. Everything a mother's love should be—except maybe for having been interrupted so soon.

“But while this love was in some ways similar, it was also a million times stronger. I felt like I was bathed in it, like I could swim around in this warm bath of pure love from this . . . yes, I'd call Him a parent. And if anyone on earth ever invented some lotion that soaked into your skin and healed every bruise, every cut, every abrasion you'd ever suffered, then in the spiritual sense this love was like that. I felt it soak into every pain, every inner wound I've ever endured. I could almost feel every tear I've ever shed dry up like it never happened— or the pain that had provoked it. Like time was moving in reverse and my life's sorrows were being rolled up and tossed away.

“At the same time, I felt so close to Him. I remembered for a second the almost smothering feeling of kinship I'd felt with my best friend when I was six years old. Beth Vega. She came over for a sleep-over, and we stayed up long into the night telling each other all our stories, all our secrets, and when the sun finally started peeking through the shutters, I felt like she and I had become a single person.

“That old memory was just the tiniest shadow of this new experience. The sense of being so close to Him made me feel like I'd been somewhat of a recluse all my life, a hermit who'd never even been in the company of another being. And unlike being forced unpleasantly close to others like the way you feel on elevators, this was an extreme closeness that I craved. In fact, I desired it beyond any longing I've ever felt.

“You have to understand: His person was radiating—all at the same time—unthinkable power, vast wisdom and knowledge, a solemn and kingly sensation I can only call
majesty
, along with this incredible love I've been talking about. If I could have crawled up inside this personality somehow, I would have. I wanted it as close to me as I could get.

“It's taking me this long to describe it, but I have to say again that the actual experience didn't take any time at all. This was all one very rich and complex sensation. Because in like no time at all, we'd left the earth behind and were flying over the shores of something new. Something beyond the experience of any living human.”

NEARBY ROOFTOP

The tiny receiver in Dylan's ear buzzed with the vibration of an incoming voice. He winced, feeling his grip on the rifle barrel waver slightly. The crosshairs poised on the young woman's chest barely trembled—but at this distance, it was easily enough of a deviation to throw his shot far off course, his trajectory magnified by 324 yards of rising air, a fitful morning breeze, and the impact of shattering vinyl glass on a descending bullet.

“Can you make it?”

“Eighty percent chance. But you gotta know—the camera's aimed straight in my direction. If I take it, I'm blown.”

“Aren't you in good cover?”

“Excellent. But it's not that. There'll still be a whale of a muzzle flash. As soon as I take the shot, I'll have to egress within seconds. Expose myself. Everything about me—my weapon, uniform, my body, my direction of escape. I'll be identified by NSA within an hour.”

“Can you take out the camera first?”

He breathed out and hesitated, thinking. “Much harder. The angles, the margins, they're all much tighter. I'd have to hit straight on.”

“Can you disrupt in some other way? Cut the building's power maybe? My brothers are climbing all over me to shut her up.”

“Their video camera will be battery driven. I suppose a warning shot through the window would make them stop and seek cover. But I doubt that it would be a complete guarantee. Look, I'm using the scope mostly for recon. I wasn't really considering a shot. My verdict is, if you want the interruption to look benign, you'll have to wait. My only options will be high profile, high impact. Impossible to conceal.”

A vicious oath buzzed through the earpiece.

“Then wait. She's already done the damage, anyhow. But you hear me good. This has to happen soon. Very soon.”

CHAPTER
_
17

ABBY'S HOSPITAL ROOM

Mara McQueen now sat beside Abby's bed in a hospital chair whisked over after a glare and an imperious gesture at her assistants, demanding something in which to sit. Comfortable in her bed nearby, Abby stared ahead, fully immersed now in the account and oblivious to anything physical happening around her. Just a moment before, technicians had removed the distraction of the late afternoon sunlight by pulling shut the shades and curtains.

“I guess I should have known that actually seeing heaven would blow off their hinges every notion or fantasy I'd ever dreamed of. I mean, my friends accuse me of having an overactive imagination anyhow. But now, having seen it for myself, it's like my mind never even touched on it before. Like I'd never even pictured it at all, although I had so many times.

“But the real experience was so much more intense, more vivid, more joyful, more comforting, and more ecstatic than I ever allowed myself to imagine. And of course that in itself is unbelievable. I mean think about it: When's the last time something you'd fantasized and dreamed of since childhood turned out to be not only as great as you'd imagined, but a thousand times better? I'm not very old, but I'm already used to the familiar pattern of having everything I'd fawned over as a girl turn less shiny and glorious than I'd always pictured it. I'd kind of accepted that that's how life is. Making the most of unmet expectations.

“Heaven was the radical opposite of that. Now, when I think about it, I should have known. I mean God is infinitely creative and resourceful. A bit of a showman, I might add. He never misses a chance to knock our socks off with an outrageous display of beauty in His creation.

“But this was the ultimate. The greatest example of all.

“The first landmark was this huge gate. I don't know how large it was, because I didn't know how high I was flying above it. But if you think the
Arc de Triomphe
in Paris is a big arch, well, this one dwarfed it. And I have no idea what it was made of—it looked as solid as stone, but it shined so brightly that it almost seemed to glow from the inside. And it was probably the most intricately shaped structure I've ever seen, just crawling with carvings of angels and beautiful faces and these long, flowing shapes.

“As I passed above it, I saw three groups of people in pretty much identical formations. In each case, a single person walked alone toward the gate from the same direction I'd flown. And just beyond the arch stood this crowd of people, awaiting the one walker. I could hear calls of greeting and these kind of touching outbursts that seemed drenched in love, even if you're too far away to hear individual words. I heard snatches of delight and welcome. The sounds of people who've missed each other terribly and are being reunited at last.

“Then the gate was past and I was flying into the face of this energy I'll just call light, because that's the easiest way to describe it. Problem was, it was far more than just brightness or warmth or brilliance itself. I mean, for sheer intensity I'm sure it rivaled the sun, but it was far more. First of all, like a rainbow it seemed to hold every color in existence, in such a richness and intensity that I felt for a second like someone who'd worn dim, crusty old sunglasses her whole life and had just now gotten permission to tear them off. I wondered for a moment if someone had replaced my world with a shinier, brighter, younger version of itself. Everything around me was crisp and colorful beyond any standard of measurement. I even remember seeing colors I'd never seen before, which seems impossible now, because I know what the spectrum is and I've seen my share of rainbows. But still, there they were. I was just . . . stupefied.

“I laughed out loud, in part out of wonder at everything I was seeing, but also because it seemed that joy, even love, was just infused in the air around me. See, as awesome as the colors were, this light contained more than color. Its bandwidth, if you want to use tired-out Internet language for something like this, was much broader than that. It was also made up of emotions. Good ones, that is. Great ones.

“Mara, I just don't know if I'm conveying this in a way that sounds halfway coherent or makes any sense. The problem is, there are just no words for what I'm trying to describe. . . .”

NEARBY ROOF TOP, DYLAN'S OBSERVATION PERIMETER
— ONE MINUTE LATER

No reply had come back in the thirteen minutes since the Manhattan boss had asked for a pause. Dylan closed his eyes and innately realized that, despite Manhattan's indecision and his clear orders to wait, this was the kind of tunnel-visioned client who would irrationally turn around an hour from now and blame him for the consequences of delayed action.

He rose from kneeling and slapped a holstered handgun onto his belt. He pulled out his wallet and sifted through a small stack of business cards. Selecting one, he crammed the others into a front pocket.

“Listen, you watch all you want,” he spoke into his radio mouthpiece. “I'm going in, and I have an idea. Please, no voice traffic. Listen in if you want, but I'll call you later to check in.”

Without waiting for an acknowledgment, Dylan flipped the frequency dial on his belt radio, stood to his full height and began running straight for the shadowed hulk of the hospital wing.

ABBY'S HOSPITAL ROOM
—THE NEXT SECOND

“And so I found myself responding without even thinking about it—laughing out loud for no reason. If I'd been on earth, you'd have thought I was bipolar or in need of some serious tranquilizer. But I was just fine. In fact,
just fine
in a truer way than ever before. I felt like I'd come home, to a home I never even knew I'd left.

“And that's not even the best part of moving forward into this light. Probably the most amazing thing I experienced just then was the music.

“
Song
was everywhere.

“I say
song
because just calling it music seems to oversimplify, even trivialize it somehow. It was so much more than just a sound or a melody. I even wonder if it can be called sound, it was so complete an experience. Part of it was breathy, like a million harmonized voices in total ecstasy. You might have mistaken it at first for some awesome melody being pumped in from someplace.

“First of all, this music was everywhere. I felt like I was inside it, rather than just a front-row hearer. My whole body was part of the instrument. I felt every part of me resonate like some tuning fork that's waited its whole life to give out just the perfect pitch. Inside me, even. Not only did it penetrate every inch of me, I
was
music.

“The only way I remembered that it came from other places was that every few seconds, just barely in hearing range, I'd hear a word, or part of one that I couldn't quite make out but I just knew was praise to God. It was an expression of adoration so perfect and exquisite that it took me a second to realize it was actually a nearly infinite number of layers of praise. Then I found that I could tell each song from the others. A few of the melodies came from classic hymns I remembered as a young girl. Some of the words were those of popular choruses from church days. Others were straight from the Bible—psalms and words of Jesus. Once or twice I heard
hallelujah
or
praise God
, although they were just a few words among millions.

“Still, this let me know that the music was coming from the mouths and lungs of real people, all around me. In fact, since the singers of these songs were somewhere just beyond my sight, it came to me that the reason I could even hear these songs was
because
they were praise. As though the adoration inside them was the force that powered them, made them strong enough to be heard, broadcasting them into the air.