“Thank you,” Hannah managed to say.
“I think you should go back inside,” Ethan told her, and she went.
As Dave was getting the second five-gallon container full, Jefferson poured gas from the first container into the bus’s tank. Some spilled, but not much; Jefferson was fixed on the task as single-mindedly as he could be with the monsters—silent now in their hunger—roaming the dark.
Another one darted in, coming at Dave. This one was smaller but had the row of spines along its back. Its teeth snapped at the air in anticipation of a feast. Ethan extended his arm, saw the creature hurtling backward and it was done. He envisioned the beast blowing apart in midair; it was done so quickly, with a burst of energy from the alien’s reserve of power, that the animal likely had no time to register pain. The pieces fell upon the concrete beyond the pumps, and the other two creatures fought each other for the scraps.
“Okay, last five gallons,” Dave said, bringing the container. “Jericho, get the gear and put it aboard.”
There was no argument.
The last of the gas went into the tank. Dave, Jefferson and Ethan went aboard the bus, the door was closed and the gear was stowed away at the back.
“Let’s go,” Dave said. He pulled his Uzi from its holster and pointed it at Jefferson’s belly. “Hand the gun over.”
“Okay, okay, take it easy.” He gave the Beretta up without complaint, and Dave took a seat beside Olivia. Ethan heard Nikki let out the breath she’d caught.
Hannah had never been so glad to start an engine. The gas gauge did not show Full, but it was enough to make another hundred and forty miles, God willing.
She switched on the headlights and started pulling out, back toward I-70. Before they could get out of the station one of the Gray Dogs—the largest one, Ethan figured—threw itself at the side of the bus in a frenzy. There was a whump that shook everyone, but then Hannah was picking up speed and they were on their way again.
Jefferson Jericho came back along the aisle toward Ethan.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Dave stood up to block his way. “Get in your seat.”
“I’d like to speak to Ethan.”
“Get in your seat,” Dave repeated.
“I’m not going to hurt—”
“I won’t tell you again.” A hand went to the Uzi’s grip.
“It’s all right,” Ethan spoke up. “He just wants to ask me a few questions.”
“I don’t want him near you,” Dave said firmly.
“I can ask you from here,” Jefferson decided. “But maybe you already know what I want to ask?”
“I do.” It was simple now to read their minds, a matter of seconds. “Dave, he wants to know about my power. Where it comes from and how I control it. Jefferson has a keen interest in power.”
“Damn straight I do,” Jefferson said. “And that’s exactly what I want to know. How do you do that?”
“Directed energy,” Ethan answered. “I can modulate the intensity. The human hand is an efficient director of energy. It’s a good aiming device. Both hands, in fact. I am a being of what you would think of as concentrated energy. I can inhabit various forms as need be. If I give a desire enough focus, it’s done. The earthquake was difficult. The boy had to be convinced that he could do it, but I wasn’t ready yet to take full control of the organism. Neither was he ready. So I led him along as best I could, and as gently as I could.”
“Organism,” Dave repeated, with a shade of bitterness. It was weird to be hearing these words come out of the mouth of what appeared to be a fifteen-year-old. “You make that sound so clinical. He was a human boy and a good person. He didn’t ask for this.”
“Should I regret my choice?” Ethan asked, and let the question hang.
“No,” Olivia replied. Her voice was still soft and sad. “It seems so unfair, after all he went through, to throw him aside.”
“As I told Nikki, there’s no room for him here. He knew eventually I was going to have to take everything. He suited my purpose, and he did what I asked of him.”
“Organism,” Dave said again, like something nasty was caught in his mouth. “We’re a hell of a lot more than bodies for the taking.”
“I know you are, but sacrifice was required for the greater good. Surely you understand that.”
Dave did, but damned if he was going to admit it. Anyway, he figured the alien already knew what he was thinking.
“Yes,” said the peacekeeper.
“Were you born? Created? How?” Jefferson had to ask.
“Created, by a greater power. I know my duty and that I’m ancient in your measure of time, but more than that about myself I don’t know.”
“And you’re alone out there?” Olivia asked. “For all that length of time?”
Ethan didn’t reply for a moment. The silver eyes were downcast, the face solemn. “There are others like me, but distant. I receive information, process it, and send it on, and I know my duty,” he repeated.
“Your power has to have a limit,” Jefferson said. “It can’t be infinite. Can it?”
“Infinite is a matter of definition. Whatever power I have is more limited in this body than in my original form, but I need the body as a means of communication.”
“We’re back on I-70, gents,” Hannah announced. Her voice was a little shaky, after hearing these things spoken from the boy’s mouth. “She thanks you for the gas, let’s just hope our tires hold out.”
“Is there a God?” Jefferson asked quietly, his gaze fixed on Ethan. “You know…I’ve traded on Him for years. I’ve done…some pretty bad things, in the name of God. I’m kind of surprised I haven’t been struck dead by lightning or something before now, but I just kept going. And it’s like…I was testing God, maybe, because He let me keep going. So tell me if you can…is there a God?”
Ethan didn’t reply. How to explain to them that his knowledge was limited too, and there were things he was not allowed to know? They were waiting for an answer, and they thought he must’ve seen the face of the entity they called God, and maybe they believed he was what they called an ‘angel,’ in their understanding of the mysteries. He gathered his thoughts, and he said, “I can tell you that there is intelligence and direction in the cosmos. As I have seen, much is left to the will of the civilization…even to the individual, to rise or fall. Is your God the same as that known by the Cyphers and the Gorgons, or by any of the—can I tell you—billions of other civilizations ‘out there,’ as you put it? Each has its own mythology and meaning, its own structure of values. The entity you know as ‘God’ I would think would have as many names as there are languages, hearts, and minds. Understand me…I don’t have all your answers. I would likely present to you more questions, and some might be beyond the scope of your intellect to grasp. No offense meant,” he added.
“But,” Ethan continued, “I am here. I was summoned here by a power I can barely grasp myself. I was created by that power. I was given a duty and directives. My intent—and the intent of my being summoned here—is to stop this war and save your world. I am not given precise instructions as to how to achieve that, but I am given what you might call a waypoint…White Mansion Mountain. It’s up to me—and a test of your willingness to fight for survival—to reach that waypoint and proceed from there.”
“A test?” Dave said. “You mean all this…the war and all of it…could have been just a test to see if we were worthy to keep on living or not? That doesn’t sound much like God’s love, does it? And even if you can stop the war…what about the world? Our world. It’s fucked up, man! All the people that we knew and loved, dead! All those Gray Men out there, and who knows how many millions around the world! It’ll never go back to what it was!”