Rising (47 page)

“
Hmph
,”
grumbled Jeremy, “then I wonder why Melanie was dreaming about Ben.”

Mel’s eyes darted fiercely to
Jeremy.
 
Ben was oblivious to the comment,
but I wasn’t to Mel’s reaction.
 
Her aura
was always golden, just a slightly deeper shade than those around children, but
it flared deep orange when Jeremy made his not-so-polite comments about her
dreaming of Ben.

“What we need to be concerned about are
the reapers still left in Beau
Chêne
,” said Homer.

“Left?” I asked, “then some have gone?”

“Oh, yes.
 
I’ve been tracing them all night.
 
This is only a small band that is attacking
this region.
 
The reapers’ leader,
Bölverk
—”

“Wait.
 
The reapers have a leader?” asked Ben.

“Yes.
 
Unfortunately, they do.
 
They are
organized and efficient.
 
But,
Bölverk
doesn’t even care about our little clan of
Setti
.
 
He’s certain
that his soldiers behind him will take care of us. He’s moving north to Baton
Rouge then hitting every large city as he goes up the country.”

“How can you be sure if you can’t see
the future?” asked Jeremy.

“Because I’ve witnessed enough visions
of the past to know how they operate.
 
They go where there is the most food first, which are the cities
thriving with energy.”

“So, how far out have they gone?” asked
Melanie.

“There are bands already spreading into
Mississippi, Arkansas and east Texas.”

“Man, I wonder what the rest of the
world is thinking,” said Ben absently.

It was an interesting thought.
 
For a moment, none of us dared to comment,
then Homer continued.

“
Herrald
has
told me that the president has declared our state a disaster area, sending
multiple troops of the National Guard into the state.
 
The newscasters are baffled, he said, because
no one can get down here then get word out as to what is happening.”

“They are brilliant, aren’t they,” I
said.

“Who?” asked Ben.

“The reapers,” Gabe answered.

“Yeah,” agreed Jeremy, “they knock out
the electricity and cell towers, so we can’t communicate to show the world
what’s really going on, so we send more people straight into harm’s way who are
just expecting fallen trees, floods, and maybe a few looters, not death-dealing
demons.
 
Yeah, they’re pretty smart.”

“Is that why the shadow scouts have
been here for so many years?” I asked Homer.
 
“So they can see what our civilization is like in order for the reapers
to make the best attack.”

“I think you’ve summed it up rather
well.”

“Wait a minute,” Gabe interrupted, “you
said that there are still reapers in Beau
Chêne
and
that their leader, this
Bölverk
, left some of his
soldiers as you said to get rid of us.
 
That means they’ll come here.”

Mel gasped, turning and looking at
Gram.

“They also detect the energy of
humans,” I said, “we’ve gathered quite a group here now.
 
Won’t they sense all of us?”

 
“Don’t worry.
 
I’ve got a shotgun, and she don’t miss,” said Pop.

“Everyone just calm down.
 
That’s why I’ve come.”

“You’ve got a plan,” said Gabe, not as
a question.

“I’ve got a plan,” assured Homer.
 
“The reapers will go to wherever they detect
the greatest amount of energy, both electric and electro-magnetic energy.
 
Well, we’ve got our own supply to lure them
to us.”

He turned and looked at Ben who glanced
quickly between all of us.

“What?” he asked absent-mindedly.

“I get it,” said Jeremy, “You’re gonna
be bait, Light Bulb.”

“What do you mean bait?”

“But we can’t stay here,” I said,
“there are children.
 
They could all get
hurt.”

“I know, Clara.
 
We will go where there’s no one nearby that
can get hurt.
 
We can lure them all to us
and finish it so the rest of Beau
Chêne
will be
safe.”

“Canebrake Island,” said Gabe.

Homer’s eyes sparkled bright blue as he
took a long sip of coffee then nodded.
 
“Canebrake Island.”

18

CLARA

“You’ve been really quiet since we
left.
 
Are you okay?”

Gabe gave me a stiff nod and a smile
that faded too quickly.
 
It was meant to
be reassuring, but it wasn’t.
 
His aura
flickered a pale blue with flecks of gold and orange haloing his head.
 
It was the strangest color I’d ever seen
around Gabe.
 
His eyes kept darting to
the woods lining this long road to Canebrake Island.
 
At least I was in a familiar place, sitting
next to him in his Jeep.
 
Jeremy was
lounging across the backseat in his own musical world with his hoodie pulled up
and his earphones on.
 
Gabe drove much
slower than usual since we were following Homer, Mel, and Ben in his old
pick-up truck.

I wondered if his mood had something to
do with the scene we left back at the cabin.
 
At first, all of our parents and grandparents were arguing back and
forth because Homer suggested that we had to leave to confront the
reapers.
 
I thought Ben’s parents were
going to shoot off into orbit with their ranting.
 
It was complete mayhem until Homer finally
told every single one of us to demonstrate what we could do so that our parents
could understand. So, we put on a little show.
 
I created a bright dome of light; Melanie healed the red cut on the back
of Gabe’s neck which nearly disappeared; Ben did his thing and started glowing
like, well, a light bulb; Jeremy shattered a jar of fishing lures with one
shout; and then, Gabe shattered a log into splinters with a wave of his
hand.
 
After that, everybody shut up.
 
Homer gave a nice long speech, explaining our
special abilities and our purpose as a clan.
 
He even mentioned the fact that this ability is passed down through our
ancestors, some of them knowing and using the power, others never knowing it at
all.
 
This sparked another whole
conversation about who gave us this ability, like it was a disease, not a gift.
 
My dad tried to be reassuring, but he had no
idea where it came from in our family.
 
There was no history at all on his side, not that he knew of.
 
Homer finally concluded by reassuring
everyone that we would all be safe traveling during the day and that he had a
plan that would protect us all, including those people still left in Beau
Chêne
.
 
After another
hour of loud protesting then quieter bickering then finally relenting and
hugging, we left.

Gabe scanned both sides of the road
again with that determined expression on his face.

“What are you looking for?” I finally
asked.
 
“Homer said the reapers don’t
attack during the day.”

“Yeah, I know.
 
I’m just wondering where they are.
 
I can sort of sense them, but it feels strangely
distant.”
 

The day was gray and still with wispy
clouds passing smoothly overhead.
 
We
were just about to cross the land-bridge when Homer’s truck veered off to the
shoulder.
 
Gabe pulled up behind him and
stopped.

“What’s up?” said Jeremy, sitting up
quickly.

“I don’t know,” I said, hopping out to
join the others beside Homer’s truck.

“Is something wrong?” asked Gabe.

We all congregated on the
blacktop.
 
There was no need to worry
about cars passing out here, if anyone was even venturing out of their house.

“I wanted to show all of you
something,” said Homer.

We gathered around him in a huddle,
staring intently like he was about to do a magic trick.

“Do you remember how I told you that
the reapers soak up solar energy during the day?”

We all nodded dumbly but kept our
mouths shut.
 
Homer got that stern glint
in his eye.

“Everybody look up.”

Six heads bobbed backward as we stared
up into the sky.
 
There was nothing to
see but gray clouds and more gray clouds.

“I don’t get it,” said Ben, “are they
invisible?”

“Look closely,” said Homer.

Melanie gasped.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said
Gabe.

Then I saw what they saw.
 
There was a brief moment where the thin
clouds became thinner, revealing what appeared to be a black sheet above
them.
 
As if fate wanted us to get a good
look, a hollow space separated two banks of cloud cover.
 
This void moved across the sky, allowing hazy
sunlight to come through.
 
Silhouetted
against the light were orderly rows of reapers floating on their backs.
 
Their shiny black cloaks whipped around
them.
 
It was a menacing army at rest
hovering between heaven and earth.

“So, monsters that actually like the
sun?” asked Jeremy lightly.
 
“That’s a
new one.”

“They don’t just like sunlight,” said
Homer, “they’re soaking up its energy and keeping it from coming down here
where it’s needed and gaining strength in the process.”

“Won’t that kill the plants?” asked
Mel.

“It would if they stayed
indefinitely.
 
I’m not sure what will
happen, because we don’t know how long they’ll be here.”

There was a moment of silence as we
watched the hollow space move beyond us, revealing the end of the rows.

“How many do you think there are?”
asked Ben.

“Forty-four,” snapped Gabe.

He’d actually had the presence of mind
to count them.

“You said that their leader was leaving
a small group behind?” I asked Homer.
 
“Is forty-four a small group?”

“By their standards, yes,” he replied.

“Where are the ash-eaters?” asked
Jeremy.
 
“Why aren’t they with them?”

“The ash-eaters don’t feed on energy,”
said Homer.

“Yeah, I know,” said Jeremy, “but
aren’t they some kind of watchdogs or something?”

“I don’t think so,” said Homer.
 
“In my tracings of the past, the ash-eaters
only follow the reapers when they feed, sort of like scavengers.”

“Why would the reapers allow them to do
that?” I asked, feeling a punch in my stomach when I remembered the ash-eater
at my house.
 
“I mean, the reapers don’t
seem like the kind to want pests following all the time.”

“I’m sorry I can’t answer that
either.
 
My visions only ever show them
doing what we know they can do.
 
But I
can tell you this.
 
The reapers are
self-serving.
 
If they’re allowing the
presence of the ash-eaters, it’s because they’re getting something in return.”

We were all staring up.
 
I felt a familiar chill creep up my spine.
 
Instantly, I looked around us in the
woods.
 
Three pairs of luminescent eyes
flashed then disappeared into a thicket of tall oak trees.

“We’re being watched,” I said as calmly
as I could.

All eyes followed mine.
 
Gabe took two steps toward the woods with his
hands outstretched, then there was a strange burst of pressure waving out
through the trees.
 
The tall weeds
flattened as Gabe’s power passed, but there was no sound of pain from any
creature hiding there.

“It’s good that they’re watching.
 
They’ll lead the reapers straight to us when
night comes,” said Homer, studying the sky as if it might turn dark any
minute.
  
“Still, we’d better get going.”

No need to tell us twice.
 
We hopped in our vehicles and tore across the
land-bridge.
 
The first thing I noticed
when we pulled up to Homer’s house was a funny kind of bulls-eye spray-painted
in the middle of the clearing.
 
Gabe
veered around it, like Homer, parking back by the shed.
 
I jumped out and walked toward the
formation.
 
At the center was a bright
yellow solid circle about three feet in diameter.
 
Five feet out from it was a red circle, then
a neon blue circle ten feet from that.
 
The final circle was about ten feet from the blue, a fluorescent green.