Time Spent (21 page)

"Mr. Wells, what are you doing? Zachary
should keep those, they're very good!"

Vernon gave her a stern look. "Ma'am, I'm
sure you mean well, but I'll ask you to please mind your own
business."

"But why? Why would you make him do
that?"

Vernon stood patiently and waited while
Zachary tore apart each drawing, one after another. Then, when
Zachary was finished and rose to return to his side, Vernon picked
him up and held him, kissing him on the head.

"That's my boy. My special boy. Who do we
reserve all praise for?"

Zachary pointed a tiny finger upward.

"Good boy. That's right." He turned again to
Miss Shannon. "I'm afraid we don't have the money for a fancy
specialist, ma'am. We do the best we can, just the two of us. It's
not easy sometimes, but God is with us, always. Always."

He turned to leave.

"Mr. Wells." She stepped forward, putting a
hand on his arm. "Why did you make him destroy those drawings?
Aren't you proud of him at all?"

Vernon squeezed Zachary close. "I love my
boy, every part of him. But most of all I love his immortal soul,
and the Word is very clear: pride goes before destruction, and a
haughty spirit before a fall. God bless you, ma'am."

______________________

"What happened?" Brock Kenney asked. "Where
am I?"

Zachary shrugged. "I don't know. You were
dead. I asked God to bring you back."

"Dead? What are you....what do you mean,
DEAD?"

"You were dead," Zachary repeated. He turned
to the next body, an extremely muscular young man whose toe tag
read MALONE, THOMAS.

Zachary placed his hands on Tommy's chest.
The soft, warm light blossomed in his chest and passed down his
arms into Tommy.

Brock slid his legs from the table and sat
up. He lifted his hands to his head. "I don't feel right.
Something's wrong."

Zachary turned to look back. "I don't think
anything's wrong with you."

"Whoa!" Tommy sat up on the table, looking
at them. "What the hell's goin' on here?"

"You were dead," Zachary answered. "I asked
God to bring you back."

"I'm tellin you..." Brock shook his head
violently. "Something...something
ain't....
initiatingselfdiagnostic...
something ain't
right."

Zachary had again moved to the next body in
the row. This was a skinnier kid, face covered in pimples. His toe
tag bore the name SYKES, RUSSELL.

"I feel fuckin' AWESOME," Tommy said,
leaping from the table. "Hey, what happened to Russell?" He stood
next to Zachary, looking down at his friend.

Zachary shook his head. "I don't know." He
placed his hands on Russell's chest.

"Yeah, man, help him! Do whatever you did to
me!"

"I can't do anything. I can only ask God to
do it." The glow passed from him into Russell.

Metal sprouted from the center of Brock
Kenney's chest and spread over his skin, forming metal rings around
his arms and legs, protrusions from his shoulders, and a dome over
his skull. His eyes sank into his skull, to be replaced with tiny
glowing satellite dishes.

"Holy shit!" Tommy exclaimed. "What the
hell's happening to him?"

A strange version of his voice emanated from
a speaker somewhere in the back of Brock's throat:
"selfdiagnosticcomplete. I'm OKAY, I think.
systemsonlinefunctionnominal."

"Okay, nothing! Brock, you're all...you're
all metal, dude!"

Russell groaned and Tommy turned back to
him, helping off the table.

"Where am I?" Russell asked.

"You were dead." Zachary had moved to the
next body, a small, slender girl. "I asked God to bring you
back."

Tommy jabbed a finger at him. "Hey man, stop
saying that! Ain't no God did that to Brock, you did it! I saw that
glow in your hands."

"I see it too," Zachary said. "I think it's
God's love."

Tommy snorted. "Dude, you're -" He gave the
table a shove, meaning to push it out of the way. The table sailed
into the air, smashing against the hangar wall with a clang.
"Whoa." Tommy looked down at his arms. "This is
un-fucking-
real.
"

Zachary placed his hands on the girl, and
the glow passed into her.

"threatdetected. HEY, you get AWAY from her.
weaponsactivated."

The girl slid from the table, her hands
covering her face. "It hurts," she said. "Everything hurts."

Zachary turned. "I'm not hurting her. I'm
asking God to bring her back. God sent me to stop the end
times."

Tommy shoved him back. "Nuh-uh, dude, I
don't think so."

Zachary looked him in the eye. "It's real
important. I have to stop the bad people."

Tommy grinned. "Well you just met the
baddest of 'em all, dude. What are you gonna do about it?"

Russell moved behind Zachary, giggling.
"Yeah, what are you gonna do?"

"I'll have to stop you, then," Zachary said.
"God gave me a message for the bad people."

Tommy drew back one fist and brought it
forward into Zachary's face. All of them could hear the audible
crunch of shattering bone. Zachary fell backward. Russell caught
him in his arms and threw him to the ground.

"Nice one, Tommy!"

The door to the hangar banged open. Two
soldiers charged in, weapons drawn. "Down on the ground, now!" one
shouted.

"Oh shit!" Russell raised his hands.

Brock turned to face the men.
"
threatdetected. Oooo, SCARY. targetacquired
" He raised one
hand, and tendrils fired from his fingertips to embed themselves in
the lead soldier's face.

The second soldier opened fire. Bullets
riddled Brock, some tearing through him and some ricocheting off
the metal parts of his body. Russell dove to the floor under one of
the nearby tables. Tommy didn't move.

Circuitry spread across the first solder's
face, covering every exposed inch of his skin within seconds. He
turned toward the second soldier.

"Alan?" the second solder asked.

The cyber-zombie lifted his weapon and shot
the soldier in the head.

"Holy shit," breathed Tommy.

"It hurrrrrts." They turned to see the girl
had wandered closer to the door, her skin turning a ghastly
white.

"facialrecognitioninitiated. AMBER, I
know you. Homegirl gots ISSUES."
Brock turned toward Tommy.
"facialrecognitioninitiated. TOMMY. And RUSSELL.
threatlevelunknown."

"Whoa, brother," Tommy raised his hands.
"We're teammates, remember?"

"You're BAD PEOPLE."

Tommy spun around. Zachary had moved behind
him, his face completely reconstructed.

"How the fuck are you standing?" Tommy
asked.

"God sent me to stop people like you."
Zachary brought up and hand and clamped it on Tommy's forehead.

______________________

The hole widened, and through it, Zachary
beheld an eerie light. A ghastly red glow shone forth, bathing the
rooftop in crimson. Winged creatures emerged, and a cacophony of
high-pitched laughter issued from their mouths to echo off the
rooftop and fill his ears.

They were demons, Zachary realized with a
start.

There were demons everywhere.

A horde of the winged demons flapped down to
the rooftop, grasping Zachary's arms and legs in their tiny
claws.

The held his limbs splayed apart, keeping
him immobile. Zachary struggled, but couldn't free himself.

______________________

Every night, Zachary would kneel beside his
father to pray before going to bed, but one night, Vernon told him
to sit on the edge of the bed instead.

"I want to tell you a story, Zachary."

Zachary sat next to him. His father put an
arm around him, coughing a bit. Time had passed, and his father had
grown ill, needing medicine to keep him well enough to work even
the meager jobs he was able to find.

"This story is from the book of Luke, and
it's very important." Vernon held in his hands an old Bible, one he
had read from many times, although he knew it so well he did not
need to open it at all. "Two men went up to a temple to offer their
prayers to the Lord. One was a Pharisee, and the other a tax
collector."

Zachary's brow crinkled.

Vernon chuckled. "If you're wondering what a
Pharisee is, that's quite a long story itself. But this would have
been a very spiritual man, a leader in his church. Very pious, very
learned, the kind of man you would think would be very close to
God." He paused to gauge the look in Zachary's blue eyes. "And
that's a good thing, isn't it, Zachary?"

Zachary nodded.

"Yes, it is. Well the Pharisee saw that he
was alone in the temple with this tax collector, just a common
fellow, and he prayed to God, 'God, I thank you that I am not like
these other people, the evildoers, or the common folk like this tax
collector here. I'm a good man. I do good works, I fast twice a
week, I give a tenth of everything I receive to the church.'"

Zachary pursed his lips while he thought
about this, and Vernon smiled.

"Now the tax collector stood apart, and he
prayed too. He said, 'God, please have mercy upon me, for I am a
sinner.' Now, that's a simple prayer for a simple man. He hadn't
done all those things the Pharisee had, you see?"

Zachary nodded.

Vernon leaned close. "Zachary, I want you to
understand this, because the Bible is very clear on this: the
Pharisee had done good works, works that most would say were worthy
of praise, but it was this man, the tax collector, not the
Pharisee, who went home justified before God. For all those who
exalt themselves shall be humbled, and those who humble themselves
shall be exalted."

Zachary nodded.

"We praise only the Lord, always, never
ourselves, son. The Lord does not abide pride, ever. He is always
on the lookout for it in our hearts, and if he sees it, destruction
will come to you just as sure as you're sitting here next to me
right now. The Lord sees it, and the Lord will look at the prideful
man and see him humbled."
Zachary was silent.

Vernon placed the old Bible carefully in
Zachary's hands. "I want you to keep this from now on, son. We'll
write your name in it, and you keep it close to you, and whenever
you need to you can open its pages and let God's Word into your
heart."

From somewhere, Vernon produced a pen.
Zachary opened the front cover of the old Bible and, with his
father's help, began to write.

______________________

More soldiers, running from everywhere now, came
from multiple doorways into the hangar and opened fire. The bullets
just bounced off Brock's metal nodes, and he made quick work of
them, shooting the tendrils from his hands into them one after
another and converting them into zombies just like he had the first
one.

Tommy just stood there, hands clasped to his head.
Russell shook his shoulders. "Come on, man, what's wrong with you?
We have to get out of here! Let's find some clothes and get out of
here."

"He's seeing God's message," Zachary said.

"I'm okay," Tommy said, shaking his head. "I'm
okay."

"What happened?" Russell asked.

"I saw my dad. He used to...he used to hit me real
bad." Tommy turned to Zachary. "You stay away from me, man. You
stay the fuck away from me."

"She promised everything would finally end if I just
get there." Amber was still moving toward the door, gaining speed.
"But it hurts."

"Maybe I can help you," Zachary said. "I help
people."

"I think you've done enough, man." Tommy put a hand
on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me! God sent me!" A red light welled
within Zachary's chest. It moved to the spot Tommy's hand touched.
When it reached Tommy's hand a force lashed out, knocking Tommy
backward.

"I had glass in me and I got better. I got burned up
and I came back.” Zachary’s eyes began to glow. “Nothing you do can
hurt me," he said. "I help people. I bring them back. I'm God's
favorite!"

Amber slipped out the door.

"Come on, Tommy," Russell said.

"Yeah." Tommy backed away from Zachary. "Let's get
out of here."

Tommy ran, not for the exit but to the wall.
He brought up his fists and slammed them into the wall. There were
a great groan of ruptured metal and the wall came down in a rain of
metal and cloud of dust. Tommy and Russell ran off across the base
and were gone.

______________________

The demons sang a haunting song, of the end
of days and the time they would be free to reign over the world
unchecked. They sang of their master, the one who would bring about
the end times.

Zachary was scared, but he closed his eyes
and prayed. He prayed for God to save them all.

At the center of the aperture in the sky,
another light formed, this one blood red.

A figure stepped forth on cloven-hoofed
legs, like those of a goat.

Zachary's eyes widened, and paralyzing fear
took hold. The figure stepped down as if walking down a flight of
invisible stairs, its hooves landing on empty air. At the base of
the stairs, its wings unfolded, black lined with red, like the
wings of a terrible dragon. Horns spiraled from its flowing red
hair, and its naked breasts hung from its chest, dark nipples
stabbing from them. Red eyes looked out from its terrible face,
casting a blood red glow on Zachary as they fixed on him.

The figure approached, and as it did so its
features shifted, until it was a beautiful woman with flowing red
hair, ruby red lips and dark red eyes. She smiled at him.

"ZACHARY," she said. "MY SPECIAL BOY."

______________________

The sound of hacking coughs reverberating
off the walls of the tiny bedroom woke Zachary from a deep sleep.
His father needed the medicine.

Zachary woke, sliding from his small bed and
walking barefoot to the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet,
and peered inside. He looked around for several seconds, confused,
before his sleepy brain remembered: there was no more medicine, had
not been any for some time.