Judgment (The Alternate Earth Series, Book 3) (12 page)

The heat emanating from the asteroid initially feels like a warm breeze, but, as it gets closer, I feel like I’m completely naked and baking directly underneath the sun’s rays. As I keep my focus steady on the end of our flame, I almost wish the asteroid would fall faster than it is. The heat is sucking the oxygen from my lungs, making it impossible to draw a full breath. I feel my skin begin to draw up on my face and hands, making me feel as though I’m on the cusp of being roasted alive. I try not to scream, because Leah is doing enough of that for the both of us. As our flesh begins to burn, I can feel Leah’s trembling become more violent. I fear she’ll pass out from the excruciating pain we’re both experiencing before our job is complete.

Just as I fear we might both lose consciousness, or burn to a crisp under the intensity of the boiling temperature, the front of the asteroid slams into our flame. When it does, it completely disappears, but not without leaving behind one last parting gift. An intense shockwave ripples through the air, propelling us through the sky, making us topple end over end.

The force of the wave is so strong, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop our momentum on my own or if we’ll have to hit something first.


Jess!
” Michael yells inside my mind. “
You need to concentrate! Work with the current, not against it!

I’m having a hard enough time just staying conscious, much less figuring out how to make the current work for me.


Michael, I need you
,” I tell him, relinquishing control of my body to his expertise.

Michael wastes zero time. As I let go, he immediately chooses the right moment to push off the wave of energy like a springboard, to propel us straight above it. The gravitational force of such a move almost makes me pass out. Poor Leah does pass out, and goes as limp as a noodle in my arms. Just before my vision turns completely dark, Michael slowly veers our trajectory to the right, so we’re not shooting straight up like a rocket anymore. The tension in my body begins to ease. Eventually, the velocity of our flight slows down, and Michael is able to gain complete control over our maneuverability.

He flies us back through the layer of smoke covering the sky until I’m able to see the ground again.

I feel him attempt to give control of my body back to me, but I tell him, “
No. Get us to the ground first
.”

Like any good friend, he doesn’t ask why. He just does what I need him to.

The force of the shockwave propelled us a great distance away from where we originally started, but, eventually, Michael is able to return us to the Taj Mahal, where Mason and Brand are still waiting for us.

As soon as our feet touch the ground, I learn that my body is too weak from my injuries to keep me upright. The men are there in an instant to help untether Leah from me.

“Oh, my God, Jess,” I hear Mason say as he cradles me in his arms like a broken doll.

“We need to get them to Rafe to heal their burns,” I hear Brand say as I realize the pain from my injuries is becoming too much for me to bear.

Just before I completely black out from the pain of my wounds, I hear something that makes my moment of triumph short-lived.

The sound of the fourth trumpet blowing resonates around the world, making my heart feel like it just dropped into my stomach. Its eerie blare resonates in the air, warning us that something sinister is coming our way, and we won’t be able to stop it this time, no matter what we do.

As soon as the trumpet’s unnerving song ends, a loud boom strikes the air, like a sledgehammer cracking a ball of marble.

“What was
that
?” I hear Mason ask Brand in alarm, a sound I almost never hear from my husband.

When I look at Mason’s face, I see that he’s staring at something in the sky, with a look of complete awe and horror. I force myself to look up, and feel sure I would have gasped at the sight if I had any extra air to give up.

The moon, our celestial partner in this vast universe, has been ripped apart, straight down the middle. One half of it hurtles towards the Earth on a mad course to destruction, while the other half hangs in the sky, forever broken.

I have no idea what it all means, and the agony my body is experiencing doesn’t allow me to dwell on the implications for too long.

Against all odds, I become amused when I realize that I’ve been a terrible influence on my husband as I hear him say, “Crap.”

Blissfully, the sweet oblivion of sleep takes over, allowing me to forget our troubles for a little while.

Unconsciousness definitely has its advantages.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

My blackout ends up being short lived. My eyes remain closed, due to exhaustion, but I can hear the worried voices of my friends all around me after Mason phases us back to the castle. If I wasn’t in so much pain, I would have wept right along with JoJo. As it is, every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s on fire. I gave birth to Brynlee without the help of medication, but even the pain of natural childbirth comes in a close second to what I’m experiencing now.

“Heal Leah first,” I hear Mason tell Rafe urgently. “Otherwise, Jess will beat us all to a pulp when she wakes up.”

His correct assumption is just further proof that my husband knows me well.

After only a few minutes, I feel Rafe’s healing touch. It feels like a wave of fresh spring water washing over my wounds, dousing the heat of my injuries to bring me sweet relief.

When my pain subsides, I’m finally able to take a deep breath.

“Jess,” I hear Mason say anxiously.

I’m tired, but I force my eyes to open because I don’t want Mason to worry any more than he already is.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, but, just as soon as the words leave my mouth, the world feels like it’s about to shake apart.

“Earthquake!” I hear Brand shout. “Take cover!”

Mason quickly grabs me around the waist and snatches me off the table I’m lying on. It’s only then that I realize we’re in the kitchen. As we huddle underneath the dining table along with Leah, Rafe, and Nina, I hear Mason begin to pray in a whisper.

“Father,” he almost begs, “please let us make it back home.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard Mason doubt that we’ll survive our time on this alternate Earth. His doubt makes me wonder if I’ve been deluding myself. Maybe we won’t make it back. Even though Gabe has seen some of us return home, it doesn’t mean that we all will, or that any of us will for that matter. Gabe’s visions of the future are ‘possible’ futures, not written in stone. As he’s always telling me, the future is fluid, and one tiny deviation can cause a ripple effect along the timeline of our lives. It’s entirely possible that we’ve already created splinters in reality, causing branches of even more alternate universes to form. I just pray we’re in the one that leads us back home.

In actuality, the earthquake only lasts a couple of minutes, but it seems like it goes on forever. The glass in the bay window behind us shatters, spraying us all with its remnants as the force of the quake pushes it inward. When the earth finally does stop trembling beneath us, we crawl out from under the table to check the damage to the castle.

“Is everyone ok?” I ask, looking around the room at all my friends. I don’t immediately see anyone injured.

“Just a few scratches,” Zack tells me, dusting off his clothes as he crawls out from underneath the kitchen counter. “Are you ok, Jess?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, looking around at the glass and general mess the quake has left from shaking everything out of its place. “I just wish this nightmare would end.”

“Amen to that,” Chandler says, looking discouraged.

In fact, all of my friends look like there’s no hope in hell that we’ll be able to save this world. To be honest, I don’t see how we’ll be able to either. Maybe Lucifer was right. Maybe we need to leave while we still can. He warned me that after the fifth trumpet is blown, the window for our safe return home would be very short. Once Gabriel blows the seventh and last trumpet, Judgment Day would be upon us, and there will be no going home for any of us.

Malcolm unexpectedly phases into the kitchen from wherever he was during the earthquake. He isn’t wearing a shirt, which isn’t particularly unusual for him, but, under the circumstances, it seems out of place.

“Rafe, grab your staff,” Malcolm tells him with a great deal of urgency as he walks toward Rafe.

Rafe picks his staff up from the floor. “What’s wrong? Who’s hurt?”

“A lot of people,” Malcolm says, looking at the rest of us. “Desmond and Slade are here with some of the people from their headquarters.”

“Some?” I say, picking up on that word.

“When the quake hit, the salt mines started to collapse,” Malcolm tells us. “They’re bringing all of the survivors they can find here, but a lot of them are injured. Desmond and Slade are trying to phase as many people as they can to the castle before the whole cave system crumbles. They need our help,
now
.”

“Where are they putting the injured?” Rafe asks.

Malcolm places his hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “The living room.”

Malcolm phases Rafe. Mason grabs my arm and phases us to the living room, too. Sobs of desperation and pain from the frightened and injured fill the space. Malcolm immediately kneels down on the floor in front of the child he phased Rafe to first. The little girl is crying as she sits leaned up against her mother, who is trying to calm her baby even if the look in her own eyes is frantic. I soon learn where Malcolm’s shirt ended up. The mother is holding it in her right hand, and has it pressed firmly against her daughter’s abdomen. The once-blue shirt is now soaked red with blood, and I instinctively look away just as the mother pulls the makeshift bandage away from her daughter’s wound for Rafe to examine.

“Jess,” Mason says, “I need to go help Desmond and Slade evacuate people out of the tunnels.”

“Go,” I say, rising up to give him a quick kiss on the lips.

Mason wastes no time, and phases to the Wieliczka Salt Mine in Poland.

After he leaves, I do what I can to bring comfort to those who are injured and terrified. Of course, Rafe heals the ones who are critically injured first. Mason and the other Watchers phase in and out at a constant rate, until the castle is practically bursting with people.

Chandler does what he can to bring calm to the situation by playing a song for everyone. The music helps, but sometimes not even his gift is enough to take people’s minds off their troubles. An image of the moon being torn in half keeps replaying in my mind. I can only assume that the earthquake was an after-effect of half of it crashing down to earth. I don’t think it had the impact that the asteroid would have had. Since it lacked the velocity to completely punch through our atmosphere, the gravitational forces surrounding the Earth probably broke it down into smaller pieces. Still, those pieces would have affected the surface tremendously as they landed.

I catch sight of Tristan helping to feed some of our mine refugees, and decide to find out if I can be of any help doing that. I catch up to him on his way back to the kitchen.

“Anything I can do to help?” I ask him as we walk side by side.

“Of course, Jess,” Tristan says with a melancholy smile. “I wish there was more that I could do here, though.”

I get the feeling Tristan’s statement has a double meaning. He doesn’t seem to only be referring to this particular moment, but his whole time on this alternate Earth in general.

“You’ve done a lot,” I reassure him.

“Not enough, it seems. I wasn’t even able to help Sophia and Logan.”

“None of that was your fault, Tristan. Sophia made her own decisions. To be honest, I understand why she did what she did. A good parent will walk through the fires of Hell itself for their kid. I don’t agree with how she handled the situation. I think she could have found a better way to help Logan without betraying us, but I get it. She did what she thought she needed to do in order to save her daughter’s life.”

“I don’t know how she can be so different from my father,” Tristan says, looking confused by the dichotomy. “I mean, they’re basically the same person. Well, except for the difference in gender thing. How did my dad end up being so cruel and cynical, while Sophia is loving and optimistic? It just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”

“Your dad obviously led a different life from the one Sophia has,” I reason. “Sometimes it’s not just our soul that defines us. The events we live through affect us just as much, if not more. Maybe you shouldn’t give up on him too soon, Tristan.”

“I don’t know if he
can
be saved, Jess,” Tristan admits to me, coming to stop just outside the kitchen so our conversation remains private. “Or if he even wants to be. You just don’t understand how absolute his contempt for God is. He tried to make me hate Him just as much, but I never could. It just wasn’t in me to believe God was as cruel- hearted and merciless as my father made Him out to be.”

“A lot of the Watchers had a hard time forgiving Him for the curse. Some of them resented Him even more for cursing their children.”

“I don’t think my father cared too much about me and my brother being cursed. In fact, I think he saw it as the only good thing that came out of the whole ordeal. I can’t tell you how much it tears me up inside to know my little brother is still with him.”

“Have you had a chance to speak with your brother about leaving your father and coming to live with you?”

“No,” Tristan sighs. “I’m not even sure he would talk to me, Jess. I know Jasper better than anyone. It’s going to take some time before he forgives me enough to sit down and have a civil conversation. That’s the main reason I haven’t asked to be human yet. I can’t do that until I know I’ve tried everything possible to help him. If it takes one or a hundred years, I’ll wait.”

“Well, hopefully, it won’t take that long, Tristan. You’re a nice guy. You deserve to have a good life.”

“I can’t just yet,” Tristan replies with a shake of his head. “Not until I help Jasper. And I haven’t totally written off my dad either. Maybe I can find a way to help him get past his grudge against God. He’s not all bad. There have been moments in my life where I actually have seen glimpses of good in him. Maybe if I can find a way to bring that side of my dad out more, he’ll change.”

“No one changes just because you want them to, Tristan,” I warn. “They have to want it for themselves as much as you want it for them.”

“I know,” Tristan acknowledges, “but I need to keep holding onto my hope, Jess. Sometimes that’s all a person needs to change the world around them.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” I tell him. “If you ever need Mason or me to help you, just let us know, ok?”

“Sure,” Tristan says, sounding uncertain.

“What?” I ask, digging a little deeper. “You don’t think we can help you?”

“It’s just that… well…isn’t Mason going to ask God to make him human once we get back home?”

“We can still try to help you even after he becomes human.”

“You have to admit, though, it’ll become more dangerous for the two of you once he is,” Tristan points out.

It’s a thought I’ve had more than once, but I’m not going to admit that.

“He wants to grow old with me,” I say, verbalizing one of Mason’s deepest desires.

“I can understand that,” Tristan replies. “If I fell in love with someone, I would want to live out a normal life with them, too. However, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“Especially not with you living out in the boonies of Russia. How long do you plan to stay out there, anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Tristan admits. “I feel safe out there. I guess I’ll stay until I don’t feel that way anymore. At least I know I won’t hurt anyone where I am, and I don’t have to be locked inside a cage every night.”

“Yeah, I can see how that would be something you wouldn’t want to give up.”

I make a mental note to keep track of Tristan over the next few years.

I want him to succeed in his mission to save his brother… maybe even his father, but I don’t want to see him waste his life on hopeless pursuits. He’s too good a person not to find a nice girl to settle down with and start a family of his own. I don’t plan to rush him, though. I know his choices will lead him down the right path. Besides, who knows, maybe he’ll be fortunate enough to recognize his soulmate one day.

“Hey,” Leah says, walking out of the kitchen and catching us lurking in the hallway, “we have a lot of plates made up if the two of you want to help hand them out.”

“Sure thing, little sis,” I say, looking at the solitary plate and glass of water in her hands. “Who is that for?”

Leah hesitates before answering, “Sophia.”

Well, speak of the devil.

“Why don’t you let me take that down?” I say, not so much as a suggestion but as a fact of what I am going to do. “I wouldn’t mind having a few words with her.”

“Should I be worried about her safety?” Leah asks, handing me the plate and glass.

“No,” I assure her. “I just want to talk to her. Why don’t you help Tristan while I’m gone?”

I don’t wait for an answer. I just head straight to the basement and into the graviton cage, where I was told Sophia was being kept.

I find her sitting on the cot behind the bars. When she looks up to see who stepped through the door, I can tell by the look of surprise on her face that she wasn’t expecting to see me.

“I brought you something to eat,” I tell her, closing the outer door to the large graviton cage.

Sophia stands from her seat, straightening her dark green and yellow leather jacket before walking up to the bars.

“I’ve heard the trumpets being blown,” she says to me, looking as ashamed as she should be. “What’s going on out there?”

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