Piercing the Darkness (31 page)

“Of course, I was involved here long before I actually came on staff. I’d be here almost every summer, working on continuing education credits and helping with the Young Potential program.” Sally was just about to ask, but didn’t need to; Mrs. Denning went on to explain what that was. “Several of the teachers acquainted with Omega regularly took part in a program to recruit young people from the various high schools we represented around the country, young people who showed real potential for future leadership, who displayed special ability. I recruited several young people myself from the high school where I taught. These Young Potentials, as we called them, would be a part of our summer program here at the Center, and several came back for intensive training over several summers, even after they started college.”

Sally smiled. She could remember the Mrs. Denning of nineteen years ago, sitting at her desk in her empty classroom during the lunch recess, strangely pleasant.

Sally, still the skinny and stone-faced upstart, had paused outside the classroom door to get her nerves good and steely before she stepped inside. When Mrs. Denning smiled and offered her a chair, she was quite surprised and a little suspicious.

“As you have probably figured out,” she said, “I didn’t report that confrontation we had a few weeks ago.”

Sally said nothing. She was here because Mrs. Denning had asked
her to come; let Mrs. Denning carry the conversation.

Mrs. Denning rested her elbows on the desk and folded her hands just under her chin. “I apologize for being so crabby. I considered what you said, and yes, I believe I was rude to you.”

Sally wasn’t feeling talkative yet. “Okay.”

“Sally, I’ve talked to Mr. Davis, and also to Mrs. Bakke and Mr. Pangborn, and we’ve all come to agree that you show great promise; you’ve risen above some real obstacles in your life and excelled academically and intellectually. Now the other teachers tell me you’re asking some incisive questions and digging into the material much more deeply than the courses require.”

“I want it to be
about
something,” Sally said.

Mrs. Denning was impressed and nodded with a smile. “Yes. The meaning behind it all, isn’t that right?”

Sally was in no mood to waste words. “I’ve excelled. I’ve learned. I’ve kept a consistent 4.0 average. But if I’m nothing more than a cosmic accident, then I don’t see any point in all that I’ve done, and to be honest, I’m getting quite bored with it.”

Mrs. Denning reached for a brochure and handed it to her. “You might be interested in this.”

Sally looked it over as she listened.

“It’s a special summer program for exceptional students. I’ve been involved as a summer advisor for several years now, and I’m always looking for new Young Potentials. I think you would fit the qualifications.”

“What would I learn?”

Mrs. Denning was delighted to give such an answer. “The meaning behind it all.”

The meaning behind it all. Now, nineteen years later, Sally couldn’t hold back a bitter smile. Fortunately, Mrs. Denning didn’t notice.

“Would you like any more tea?” the teacher asked.

“Yes, please.”

Mrs. Denning poured the green, herbal concoction into Sally’s cup.

Sally asked, “So how have all these Young Potentials turned out?”

“Marvelous! We’ve had an impressive record, with our Young Potentials going on to become educators, psychologists, doctors, even statespersons. You see, the strength of Omega is in the upcoming generations
we educate. When we mold them in their younger years, they then mature to be the future change agents in our culture, bringing all the masses closer and closer to the ultimate goal of world community. It starts in the classroom.

“And that’s what’s so exciting about the changes that have occurred in recent years. Our material and curricula are gaining a much wider acceptance now. Educators and schools all over the country are attending our seminars and signing up for our programs. I think one factor would be the dissolving of the old traditional worldview, the Christian factor, that’s been such an obstacle for so many years. People are starting to wake up to themselves and the need for global community. It’s the only way our race can survive, of course. Now that we’re educating new generations totally free of the old traces of Judeo-Christian bigotry, our success rate is rising exponentially.”

CREE WAS HEARING
it all, hiding in the attic of the little cafe. But he was getting edgy; it was getting later all the time, and before too long, more people would start showing up, more teachers, more leaders, more gurus and shamans, and with them, more demons than he or his warriors wanted to face. Worst of all, the prince of this place would be back as well, and he would be most upset to find these saboteurs lurking about.

He heard a special whistle. It was Si, signaling trouble. He shot down the length of the attic, out the end of the building, and into the concealing branches of a large maple.

There was a tiny sparkle of light coming from the trees near the front gate—Si’s signal. He was alerting all the warriors.

And there was the trouble! The demons appeared first, swirling and hovering in a flock of at least a hundred, following about twenty feet above an unseen vehicle. They weren’t too large, probably not front-liners, but deadly nevertheless. Cree had to cringe just looking at those flashing fangs and clicking, razor-sharp talons. Assailing that bunch would best be avoided.

Then the vehicle appeared, a large van, lumbering toward the campus, stirring up the dust. It was full of weekenders—and full of demonic warriors as well.

The window of opportunity was rapidly closing. They had to get Sally out of there!

“SAY,” SAID SALLY,
as if she’d just remembered something, “would it be the Omega Center that published that curriculum I saw . . .
Finding Me
. . . ?”

Mrs. Denning’s eyes brightened. “
Finding the Real Me
! Yes, that’s a popular curriculum for grades 1–6; we have different programs for every grade, but the easiest implementation so far has been with fourth-graders. You know, we’ve had that curriculum available for about ten years, but never got into the schools until just a few years ago—the old Christian roadblocks again. We’re having great success with it now, however. It still works, and that says a lot for the staff that put it together.”

SI WHISTLED AGAIN,
and Cree got the signal. More vehicles were coming up the road: a fifty-passenger bus, full of high schoolers, several cars, another van.

The first van was pulling up in front of the registration office, its escorting cloud of demons beginning to disperse, all cackling and chattering, some roosting in the trees, some alighting on the top of the van, some just flitting about the grounds looking for mischief.

No! Cree hadn’t seen these two yet. From within the van, like huge, hulking dinosaurs, two demon warriors emerged and stood guard, their swords ready at their sides, their yellow eyes darting about with great wariness. They were searching the grounds, the trees, every possible hiding-place, looking for any intruders.

Then a man stepped out of the van and stretched a bit. He was dressed in a navy-blue jogging suit and wore dark sunglasses. He was middle-aged, but obviously a real health enthusiast. His face had a strange, stony expression; the muscles seemed tight.

Cree recognized him immediately.

Steele. The mysterious Mr. Steele, overseer of the Omega Center! No wonder there were such monstrous demon guards along!

Four other men got out of the van, each with at least four demonic
escorts clinging to him. These were vicious characters indeed. There was something about these four; Cree could sense that they were something even more insidious and evil than Mr. Steele.

Mr. Steele paused by the registration office to chat with some old friends who had just arrived in the school bus. He waved at all the high schoolers still waiting to pile out.

Cree could no longer signal anyone without being seen. He and his warriors would soon be boxed in.

BOTH LADIES HAD
finished their lunch and now sat over their cups of tea, relaxing.

Sally figured the time was right for her next question. She began to pull the neck chain from inside her shirt.

“Say . . . in all your travels, I was just wondering . . . have you ever seen a ring like this?”

She brought the ring out into the open and let Mrs. Denning have a good look at it.

Mrs. Denning put on her reading glasses for a closer look. “Hehhh . . . what is this symbol on here?”

“I’ve always tried to figure that out.”

“Where did you get this?”

“A friend.”

Mrs. Denning turned the ring over, this way and that, studying it. “Well . . . this face could be a gargoyle, but so triangular . . . like a combination of ghoulish face and triangle . . . Fascinating.”

“But you’ve never seen anything like this before?”

“Oh no, not that I know of.”

STEELE WAS HEADING
for the cafe. Cree looked across the grounds. His warriors were hiding themselves well—so well that even Cree could not see them. He wasn’t sure where they were, or if they were there at all.