For the second time in thirty years, the entire world has fallen asleep...
Thirty years after the Greymen caused the decimation of her people, high school drop out Rain Collins spends her days learning to pickpocket and hold her booze. Yet she long...
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As the Speaker stepped onto the small road that connected our city to the highway, the sky shifted. Above him, a second highway appeared, a perfect mirror image of the road below. I looked up as I stepped onto the road, expecting to see my own reflection, but the image was empty of life. The road and its every crack, every abandoned piece of refuse, were reflected perfectly above me, but none of our people were there.
"That should work." Our father shot a nervous smile at the warped mirror above us.
Our column of two hundred may not have made up nearly as much of the city as we had hoped, but as we trekked as one, we would certainly have formed a noticeable animal on the empty road, particularly to the Master's magic eyes. With the Regressives' solution, we would be literally invisible from above.
But would that be enough? The Speaker had said that the Masters could feel us and his magic. Wouldn't they feel us now?
"Icarus?" I stopped the moody Regressive as he stalked past our group in his patrol of the column.
He slowed his pace and grunted, not looking at me.
"Is this enough?" I pointed at the sky.
He shrugged, then leaned closer. "Not really. It's safer than walking in the open, but only if you keep quiet."
I drew a finger across my lips and nodded, watching his back as he stalked away.
Everything disappeared.
I stumbled, nearly falling to the invisible ground, when a pair of liquid arms shot around me.
"Sir?"
"Rain? Are you sleeping?"
I shook my head.
"Then, why--?" Sir trailed off, narrowing his bright and bloody eyes.
The marketplace formed around us, familiar shops and buildings popping up on all sides, warmly lit by the morning sun. Dr. Farrah's grandiose tower rocketed into being, high above the modest eleven story home of Miss Becky and her colleagues as it puttered up alongside the rest.
"No," I said. "No, no, no. I can't watch this."
Sir draped himself over my shoulders, melting to shape to my form. Like a sentient blanket, he wrapped me up, cuddling me close. "I'm here," he said softly, echoing in my ear.
I took a breath as Miss Becky stepped out of her store and into the empty square. "Please!" she screamed at the sky. "I want to wake up. Let me wake up--"
She disappeared as she screamed, suddenly replaced by Rhys Warburton cowering in the deep freeze of Miss Kathryn's kitchen. His eyes widened in fear, then he was gone.
Three figures crept down an alley, crowded with trash. When the three ducked behind an empty refrigerator box and out of view, I followed, pulling Sir closer around my shoulders. Two adults held the child, a boy, between them.
"Mom and I are here," whispered the man, stroking the boy's hair. "We have you. Just breathe. Shh. Just breathe."
The boy took a shaky breath. "I thought we were awake. I thought it was over. I don't want to be strong anymore," he said.
That voice. I felt the tears hit my cheeks at the same moment the realization hit the rest of me. "Jacob?"
"Don't worry about that," said the woman. Jacob's mother. "Don't worry about anything, honey. Just keep breathing. That's all you need to do."
Thunder rumbled in the distance, not fading, but building, growing. The sound echoed, louder and louder. Closer and closer. Nearly deafening, a voice spoke through the roar, "Surrender."
Jacob screamed.
Lightning struck.
Jacob was gone.
His parents grasped at each other, the ground, the refrigerator box. "Where is he?" they cried. "You can't take him again!"
The thunder came again. "Surrender."
"Give him back!" they screamed at the sky.
Lightning struck again. Sir and I were alone in the alley.
The highway returned.
I started. How long had I been unconscious? A panicked shout from the crowd. Then another. Beth was sobbing in my father's arms, heaving with her entire body.
"Why are they doing this?" a man yelled.
"I can't take it," shrieked a woman. "I can't sleep. I can't dream. Now they're taking my mind while I walk? I can't take it!"
On and on. "Stop the torture!" "I want to go home!" "Take me instead!"
I bit back my tears and leaned down, patting Beth gently on the back. "You have to be quiet," I whispered.
She looked up at me, the innocent stillness of her eyes turned by the crashing waves and winds of anger, sadness. Loss. She nodded, sniffed, and stood, silent.
As Beth stood, a strong breeze passed over our people, from the front of the column to the back. When it passed us, kissing our cheeks, we took a deep breath together. Like a pulse, it came again and again. With each wave, the crowd grew quieter, and even my own panic ebbed into nothing.
In a moment, the column was walking in silence again, worries dulled and somehow assuaged. All but forgotten. At the front of the column, the Speaker seemed to be scolding Icarus, though I couldn't imagine why. He was so handsome, so brilliant, so perfect.
In another moment, the cave began to grow from the landscape, revealing the entrance to Sanctuary where about fifty or so Regressives stood at attention, ostensibly awaiting our arrival.
"Hello!" The Speaker turned from Icarus to wave to the other Regressives from the front of the column.
The group waved back, breaking their ranks to run and greet their guests. The Regressives surrounded the column, gently corralling us through the dark entrance while offering kind greetings and promises of protection, which we happily accepted as we entered our new home, finally safe.
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