The Shattered Genesis (Eternity) (18 page)

             
“So, you assum
ed he was getting ready to fake a story? With those words alone?”

             
“With those words and the knowledge of how my parents are ruthless in going after what they want, yes. Just in case you weren't sure, I will tell you that I had two friends. They were a cou
ple of years older than me and they were two of the only people I have ever been able to reach a level of connection with. They shared my eagerness for learning things and for keeping an eye on what was going on around us. So, of course, they were the firs
t and only people I went to with what I suspected.”
             
“And what did you suspect?”

             
“I suspected that my parents and their shady colleagues had killed two people. It hadn't been by their own hand, of course. But they had arranged it. We were going to shake t
hings up until we figured out the truth.”

             
“And then what? What would you do with the truth?”

             
I looked out the window for a moment, contemplating; we had never decided, in all honesty, exactly what we would do with the truth. I couldn't tell James that be
cause then I would have to tell him my real reasoning behind my persistence in finding it. It wasn't to destroy my parents, though truthfully, that was an added perk. It wasn't for the greater good, even. The sudden increase in emotion I felt as I pondered
the question was enough to cease my story. He never could have known how I felt at that moment, but as a young woman who had never been touched by grief and loss before, I did feel
something
.

             
“Was that an interruption?” He asked me after a moment, snappi
ng me out of my reverie, “I'm
sorry. I'll stop.”

             
“No.” I replied, shaking my head slightly, “I allow questions. I just don't allow snide remarks. Anyway, we started running searches at the library, thinking that if we checked in under guest accounts, no o
ne could track us. We found the death certificates that said nothing was amiss. We contacted their coworkers at the blog who told us that even they had no idea what the story had been. I call them my friends because even now, I need to preserve their anony
mity, out of fear that they're still being watched.”
             
“The world is getting ready to end, Brynna. I don't think it matters at this point.”
             
“Force of habit, then, I suppose. We even went poking around their home offices after my guy friend picked the locks
on their doors. My guy friend was a genius when it came to computers. His mom and dad were responsible for network security at a law firm and a university, respectively. So he knew his stuff. Because their deaths were 'natural', their laptops weren't conf
iscated. We knew that if it leaked that the laptops were taken, it would cement what we already suspected. They couldn't afford that story getting out. So it was easy enough for us to get in, for him to override the passwords on both, and for us to find no
thing.”

             
“Well, that was anticlimactic!”

             
“No. It's not. We found nothing because someone had performed a dump on the hard drive. My  friend suggested that perhaps they had done it themselves. But if they hadn't been expecting to die, then what was the poi
nt? No. It was too big of a coincidence to justify and too strange to write off as nothing. Now, we were like the
Scooby Doo
gang for two weeks, solving this great mystery that others wrote off as just a glorified conspiracy theory. I think we were so thri
lled to be engaged in such important sleuthing that we started getting sloppy. My guy friend didn't wear gloves when he worked at the computer. I accidentally left a cigarette on the fire-escape of Lilien's apartment.”

             
“You made a stupid mistake? I am sho
cked beyond anything I ever thought was possible.”

             
I looked at him, raising one eyebrow, pursing my lips and crossing my arms in my typical show of intense discontent.

             
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry!” He told me quickly, “I'm done.”

             
“I hope so because this is
your last warning.” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Yes, they were stupid mistakes. But the last time I checked, I hadn't completed even an entry-exam for the CIA or FBI, so please, forgive my indiscretion. I am well aware Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, were
they real people, would be rolling in their graves. The point I’m trying to make is that I think they knew about
this
. I think they knew what my parents and their repulsive friends were up to.”

             
“You think they somehow realized that the end was coming?”

             
“I do.” I nodded, looking at him again, “My parents were acting strangely. They were always distant but after they started to suspect that I knew something, they cut me off completely. My mother kicked me out of the house and my dad bought me my apartment.
I don’t know what happened to my friends.”

             
“Why would they throw you out, though?”

             
“Because they didn’t want me to involve Elijah and Violet. If a person is carrying an infection, you put them in quarantine, don’t you?”

             
“And suspicion was your
infection?”

             
“It was, and it was highly contagious. They were smart enough to know that. They just weren't  ruthless enough to do something about it. They did not permanently erase me from the world though they certainly did erase me from theirs. Do you wa
nt to know something? And please, when I say this, do not try to comfort me by denying that it is the truth.”
             

             
“You have my word.”
             

             
“They would have left me behind.”

             
He opened his mouth to counter my statement with a denial that I knew was heartfelt and
for my own benefit. But after remembering his promise not to dissuade me from believing what I had said,
he closed his mouth and stared straight ahead as he drove.

             
“If that’s true…” He said after another lapse in conversation, “…then they deserve to die.
I feel no sympathy for them.”

             
I looked straight ahead also when I responded, “Do you want to know the end of the story?”

             
“The story about the journalists?”

             
“The very same.”

             
“Yes, I do.”

             
“Two people died because they posed a threat. When my parents an
d whomever else was involved committed that crime, they crossed a line that, as far as we know, had never been crossed before. If the world were to go on as it is right now, it would continue to happen. Anyone who attempted to cross them would meet the sam
e end. It sounds overly dramatic, like a hyperbole and a half. But you and I both know that it is the truth.”

             
“I agree with you.” James nodded solemnly, “But what is their endgame? Yes, your mother can hold office for years upon years, if she wants to…”

             
“And she does…” I interjected.

             
“She does. But why? What do they need to accomplish so badly that they won’t let go of their power?”

             
“I don’t know, James. They could have something up their sleeves, some sort of vision that they want to turn into reality
that will take years to accomplish. Or maybe they are just obsessed with power. It corrupts the best of us, doesn’t it?”

             
“It does.” He shook his head before looking over at me. “I will tell you something, Brynna: you are the oddest twenty-two year old I’v
e ever met.”

             
“Am I non-human?” I asked, grinning.

             
“I’m starting to believe that is the truth.”

             
“It’s not. I just say it because I’ve always felt like a freak. I’ve always been able to remember vast amounts of information and as a result, my intelligence
was so far above average that it bounded right off the charts. What aided my intelligence was my strange wisdom that has always been beyond my years. Maura…” I looked back at her, observing her as she slept, “…always tells me that I have an old soul. I be
lieve her.”

             
“She’s right. You’re maturity is proof of that. I can see why you felt different from everyone else. That had to have been so difficult for you when you were growing up. What caused it, do you think?”

             
“What caused my maturity to rapidly accel
erate to the bewilderment of every mental health professional I was ever forced to see?”

             
“And what caused your intelligence to reach such an elevated level that you could more than likely win a debate against a forty year old Ivy League college graduate i
n possession of three or four Ph.Ds?”

             
I giggled softly for a moment; I will admit that when adults complimented my intelligence and maturity, I did feel a strong sense of pride that was so refreshingly different from my usual arrogance.
             

             
“I told you that
I’ve been reading voraciously since I was small. I’ve always had a
need
to learn things. For a long time, it was my only escape from the ridiculous drama around me. I could disappear into college textbooks, internet databases, and academic journals. I wou
ld memorize things but it wasn’t just a verbatim recitation that I could give when asked about certain topics. I had insight into them. It took some time to gain it, but I just read and read until I could understand everything clearly. When I decided that
I needed an even deeper escape, I would read fiction. That was escapism at its finest.”

             
“What were your favorite books?”

             
“Well, I read Dickens as a child
a lot
. I loved how he took a culture that today, we see as being so full of grace and dignity and
turned it into a third world slum. Not that I believe England is a third
world slum,
Maura
…” I muttered, looking back at her even though she was still fast asleep. James chuckled. “I love England. It was just an interesting perspective. I can understand it
now because I have seen this world as what it truly is. I have seen what it was intended to be. As a result, I can see a third world slum that reaches every last corner of it in reality.”

             
“Well, then, you’ve just answered your own question about where yo
ur insight came from.”

             
“I did?”

             
“You gained your knowledge from the factual information you read. You gained your insight from fiction.”

             
“That’s an interesting theory.” I told him with my head on the side as I contemplated what he had said, “I believe t
hat, too, James. I am blessed to be this way. I never let myself forget that. I might not have been popular. I might not have had more friends than fingers. My teacher said to me once,’ You have a great mind. Use it.’ And I’ve never let myself forget that,
either.”

             
“He was absolutely right and you shouldn’t forget it. We’re going to need you on Pangea more than you know, Brynna. We’re going to need someone who can think like you. We’re starting life over. We are starting from nothing. We’re going to need y
ou to help us find our way.”

             
“Well…” I replied as I turned my head to gaze out of the window,” I don’t know about that, James.”

Quinn

             
We found Alice’s father while we were on our way to the launch site. We had just met many of the other people who had s
uffered through the same terrible dream that I had. It had taken very little convincing for Alice to finally grasp the severity of the situation.

             
“You really did see it, Quinn.” She told me incredulously as we drove around, searching for a new motel. “You
really did see the end of the world.” She reached over and entwined her fingers with mine, bringing my hand to rest against her chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

             
I looked at her, with a hint of a smile on my face, “I wouldn’t have believed it, eit
her. If you had come to me with that, I would have said you were nuts.”