Fog and Haze

Max’s paw against her face brought Claire out of sleep. He had shaken her within the meditating darkness of the dream. And as she ascended from the meditation and through the dream, she could hear the voices of her others crying out for death, and the shadows across the abyss calling her mother. Then her eyes opened in the waking world and to Max’s moist, black nose dominating her field of vision. His purrs were loud and full of love.

“Good morning, Maxy!” Claire reached out a finger and scratched him lovingly beneath his chin. “Who’s my good boy?”

She could have sworn that this was her Max, but she knew that was impossible. Perhaps, though, animals were more similar than humans over the realities, no matter the situation they find themselves in. It was of no consequence, Claire simply smiled and let the cat give her head bumps and body rubs. She had missed him more than she realized. Sitting up was a bit of a struggle on the uncomfortable library floor and getting the blood flowing required her own cat-stretch and a good, long rub on the back of her neck. She needed a bathroom.

Glancing about, Claire was heartened by the thick fog she saw outside the windows. Even though the damp, raw November air chilled her to the bone, she was heartened by the fact that she could move about without being seen. She spotted the sign pointing to the bathrooms at a hallway entrance on the other side of the library. Knowing where it was pushed a sudden urgency on her bladder, and she moved as swiftly and quietly as she could.

There was no door to the bathroom, having been pulled off and thrown down the hallway some time ago, but she was pretty sure that she was alone. Claire rushed inside and stopped short. Public bathroom… lots of mirrors, she thought with dread. She went to the edge of the entryway and slowly looked around the corner. The row of mirrors reflected back to her exactly what they were supposed to, but it was her own reflection she was most worried about. When she saw herself, she let out a hushed squeal of fear. The woman looking back at her had white and black makeup tear-streaked down her face, a tattered black and gray veil barely holding on to its tussled black wig, and a cheap, tattered wedding dress of blue and black lace. Jordi the Cannibal never gave her a chance to change out of her costume. Fuckin’ cannibals, she thought. How can there be fuckin’ cannibals in my Valley?

Her bladder pressed her for haste, but she took one more crucial moment to inspect the toilet before she sat down to relieve herself. It was better than she expected, but still pretty bad. Moss had somehow found its way to growing on the bowl and the tank, but the inside of the bowl was dry and only mildly overgrown. Grabbing the hem of her dress, she put the toilet ring down and wiped it off. It wasn’t clean, but it would suffice. Claire let out a sigh as the relief washed over her.

She returned to the sinks when she had finished and tested the water. Nothing… as dry as the toilets. Pulling off the wig and the veil, she then ripped a solid piece of cloth from the dress and made her way out to the library proper. The fog outside had deposited a lot of moisture on the surfaces near the windows, and she used the cloth to soak up as much as she could. Eagerly wiping the makeup off, she returned to the bathroom to use the mirrors as an aide. Max happily followed her back and forth, meowing every so often to remind Claire that he was still there.

When she could finally see her normal features again, Claire dropped the cloth on the floor and stared at her reflection. You’re back in the saddle again, sweetheart. What’re you gonna do? Her mind blanked and her frustration mounted.

Eric and Claire were movie aficionados, they always had their holiday lists of movies, and they loved to spend lazy weekends curled up on the couch and watching movies. As a result, Claire had found herself becoming much like Eric in a very fascinating and humorous way… whatever the situation, there was always a movie scene or quote to go with it. As she stared at her aggrieved reflection and pondering what her next move was to be, all she could see was Neil Page standing at the rental car desk asking to get “another fucking car right fucking now!” “Do you have your rental agreement?” “I threw it away!” “Oh boy…” “Oh boy, what?” “You’re fucked.”

“Yeah,” she said to her reflection. “You’re fucked.”

Claire stared until she shook herself out of her malaise. The first thing she needed to do was get out of this ridiculous costume. Returning to the spot that she slept in, she looked around to make sure that she had everything she had come with. She didn’t want to leave any traces that she was here so that the cannibals may be curious as to where she went. Being dinner was not in her plans. The only thing she found was the book of poems. She hadn’t arrived here with it, but she decided to take it with her. Before stuffing it in her bra with her cell phone (it was a small enough book, and there was plenty of room to be had where she planned to stick it), she flipped it open to a random page and read one single line: “Unfortunately we don’t get to choose where the storm falls.”

Rolling her eyes, Claire ear-marked the page and put the book in its place. Why does everything have to be so goddamn pertinent? She thought of the poem from the night before, and the two sermons by Pastor Sullivan. Part of her half-expected to hear a Duhn-duhn-duhnnn… every time a moment like this unfolded. She sighed and looked down at Max, who had begun to rub against her leg.

“You always know how to calm me down, Maxy.” Bending to scratch him behind the ears, Claire determined that her first move was to find a change of clothes. No way was she going to be traveling the multiverse in a corpse bride costume.

She exited the library through the same window she had used the previous night. Something about doing it that way made her feel safer. The fog outside was thick, thicker than she had ever remembered in her life. She gave thanks to God and made the sign of the cross as she hung a left. The dormitories were in the building across the street, it was her best chance of finding something to change into. Sure, the school used to be a private high school, but she was petite enough to be able to find appropriate attire.

Max bounded silently beside her, making her aware that not a sound could be heard in the heavy mist. She couldn’t even hear birds. It was then that she began to notice what the world was like around her. There was a thin sheen of gray ash over everything. The trees had no leaves, and it appeared that they hadn’t had leaves for quite some time. The grass was brown and nearly dead, and even the air had the scent of fire. Had a meteor struck here, too? But, if one had, how could things have died so quickly? They didn’t, came the answer, whatever occurred happened a long time ago. The thought was chilling, and the early morning was chilling enough. Claire shivered as she made her way across the street to the dorms. The silence was now deafening in her ears.

Thoughts continued frantically in her head as she searched for a female dorm room. When she had left her reality the first time, the specter of civil war had been in the air, but the next two worlds were ravaged by war. Then, upon returning to her own reality, the war had started, though on a much smaller scale. Then a meteor?! Claire still couldn’t wrap her head around that one, but then she arrived here, apparently well after the meteor had struck. An answer seemed to dangle in front of her like a carrot.

She didn’t even realize how distracted her thoughts had made her. Without being consciously aware of it, she had rifled through two dorms on the first floor before understanding that these were the boys’ rooms. The second floor was a level for the girls, and the first room she entered seemed to have clothes that would fit her. She took her cell phone and the book of poetry out of her bra and tore the dress off happily. Claire also found a pair of hiking boots and determined that they’d be better suited for her journey than the ratty pair of sneakers she had on. The chill of air made her undressed body shiver, but her mind remained focused on the conundrum of the happenings in the realities.

“Are the disasters following me? Am I causing them?” She asked this to Max, who had found a comfortable spot on the dresser that Claire was searching through and blinked slowly at her question.

“Sort of…” answered Gabriel.

Claire let out a guttural scream at his voice and turned quickly to face him.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” She let go of the dresser she had used to steady herself in her fright and stood tall and threatening. It wasn’t that she had never expected to see him again, somebody as annoying and obnoxious as Gabriel could never leave well-enough alone, but she wanted to make him feel unwelcome. “I told you I never wanted to see you again!”

The angel removed his fedora and gave her a wry smile. “But you’re back on the path, love. And you’re going to need my help.”

“I never wanted to be on this path, Gabriel!” The authority in her voice was unmistakable, but it had no effect on the angel’s arrogance. She turned and picked up the blue t-shirt she had dropped on the floor.

“It wasn’t your choice to make, honestly. That choice belongs to… Would you like me to turn around?”

Claire’s shoulders dropped in annoyance and her expression followed. “You’re five thousand years old, somehow I doubt that seeing a woman in her underwear does anything for you anymore.”

“Ha!” he retorted in mock offense. “I was human once. I still remember the feelings of desire. And I still have all of my parts!”

“Cut the shit…” her expression now turned serious. “Whose choice was it?”

Shrugging his shoulders and rolling his eyes, Gabriel answered, “It was Yahweh’s choice… God’s choice.”

She continued to dress herself as she spoke, “Why would He choose me? And what did He choose me for? The fact that He chose you leaves me a not-so-small shred of doubt.”

“Right for the jugular…” Gabriel sat down on the bed opposite Claire and and inhaled deeply. “Surely, I am not all that bad. You barely know me.”

“You are that bad.”

“Just don’t call me Shirley,” he quipped without hesitation.

“GAH!!” she cried and grabbed the pistol, putting the barrel within inches of his forehead. “Just answer the damn question, Gabriel!” Her anger ran so hot that she didn’t even care if she was heard by any cannibal that may be wandering outside.

“You know that-”

“Yes, goddamn it! I know this won’t do anything to you! Please!” Claire turned again and slammed the pistol on the dresser. She shook her head in awe at the fact that Max hadn’t moved a muscle during the whole conversation/argument. He just sat there looking at Gabriel, pupils as big as can be.

“Alright, alright,” he said, hands in the air as a show of surrender. “You were chosen because of who you are. You are very much unlike those who were chosen before you, but what you were chosen for is something you’re not quite ready for yet.”

“Not ready? Gabriel, I haven’t been ready for any of this! Yet here I am! Just give it to me straight.” Claire’s voice cracked at the last as scenes from Eric’s deaths flashed through her mind.

He grew serious at her emotion, “Claire, I know this isn’t easy. None of your predecessors found this process easy, either. You have to trust me. If God trusts me, then why can’t you?”

As she pulled the plain red hoodie over head, she continued to plead with him. “Give me something, Gabriel. I realize that I have no choice to be on this path, but at least give me some reason as to why.”

“Because it’s what God requires. There is a certain balance to the universe… the multiverse. Think of it as the yin and yang. God represents freedom and chaos. The Devil represents servitude and order. The fact that I refer to them as God and the Devil is wrong, though. I do it in order for it to make more sense to you. The Bible that you’re used to reading is wrong.”

Claire took a seat on the bed across from Gabriel, finding herself completely enraptured in what he was saying. And it wasn’t even the material he was trying to teach her that was so interesting, it was the accent. Americans had forever given the Brits a leg up in all things simply because their accent provided an air of knowledge and wisdom. Most of the coolest characters in Hollywood were British. Everything just sounded more awesome with a British accent.

“The Devil is not a fallen angel, or the first son of God. The Devil’s name is actually Yehwah, which is the same tetragrammaton as God, or Yahweh. They are, at their core, one and the same. They are twins.” Gabriel stood and began to pace back and forth in the tight quarters. “Now, just like human twins, Yahweh is the elder, but by so little time it’s rather negligible. And…” He raised a finger into the air to emphasize his next point, “neither of them is good nor evil. It’s all about balance. Too much of one will destroy the realities.”

“So, where do I fit in?” Though she may have been listening to Gabriel intently, his words were only making things as clear as the fog outside.

“You are an agent of that balance.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna give me?” Claire’s expression was one of exasperated disgust.

“That’s all I can give you, for now. Again, you have to trust me, Claire. I’ve done this for a long time.”

“Trust you…” she said, quietly. “You’re making me kill myself. How is that supposed to generate trust? I’ve gone through so much pain in just three weeks, and I’m supposed to trust you?”

Gabriel nodded, “Yes, you are. The dream should tell you that that is your goal.”

The dream… How did Gabriel know about the dream? Despite the fact that she knew him to be right, Claire was still curious about how he knew about the dream.

“How do you know about the dream? Do all that are chosen have the same dream?” Her tenor was insistent, and her words came rapidly.

“Indeed, they do. The dream is part of the process, it’s a driver for the chosen ones.”

“And what about the shadow men?”

Gabriel caught his breath and looked at Claire in surprise. He doesn’t know. For all of his arrogance, Claire finally knew something that Gabriel didn’t. He let out a breath and threw his eyes to the floor.

“Shadow men?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Yes, shadow men. And they call me ‘mother’.”

The angel took a couple of deep breaths, searching for the right thing to say. He once again looked Claire in the eyes. “Follow the vibrations. Use them as a compass. You must hurry, Claire, for time runs short.”

She was unnerved by Gabriel’s words and demeanor. The angel was usually calm and arrogant, but in a nice way. Now, he appeared to be faced with something he did not expect, and he was unsure of himself. Claire saw him pick up his fedora and stand.

“Gabriel,” she said, knowing that he was about to disappear again.

He turned to her as he placed the hat on his head.

“Tell your friend, the Undertaker, to stay away from me and my others.”

His eyes widened and flashed like blue lightning, and then he was gone. Claire sat on the bed and sighed, finding herself alone again. Max, released from the trance of Gabriel’s presence, jumped onto her lap, and purred and rubbed. Her brain was in a haze after all of the new information the angel had given her. Instead of answered questions, she got a bunch of vagaries and more questions. The only useful tidbit was to use her vibrations as a compass. She had never thought of that, but it made sense. She was able to return to her own reality because she could pinpoint, through the vibrations, where her dead other was.

“Too bad there’s nothing left there to draw me back, eh, Max?” Claire kissed the top of his head and put him on the floor. She stood and looked around. She needed food and a backpack, those were the top priorities.

She found a backpack in the closet, but there was no food. If Gabriel was right, then the meteor that struck her reality had struck this one quite some time ago. Considering the cannibals, there was no doubt that food here was scarce. But there had to be hidden food somewhere in these dorms, kids always had hidden food. Her growling stomach told her that she better find some fast. Claire thought about the MREs she had eaten not so long ago and wished that she had some now. The girls may not have much hidden, but the boys almost certainly do. Her and Max made their way back to the first floor to continue the hunt.

Max followed her dutifully throughout the day. Claire had found some snack foods in the dorms, but nothing of substance. While she was grateful, she was also chagrined because, in a normal life, she wouldn’t touch ‘fake’ food to save her life. So, she made her way, carefully, to the plaza where the Weis Market stood. There was little chance of finding anything, but it was worth a shot. Luckily, the dense fog hung around despite the midday hour and she was able to keep herself relatively hidden in the open spaces of town.

The store was ransacked, so Claire and Max didn’t stay long. She figured her best bet was to go to Walmart, which also meant trekking back over ground she had already covered. The walk took her about an hour, as she kept to yards and other areas that would not leave her so exposed. The eerie quiet made her whole experience rather dreamlike, which afforded a small respite from the total darkness of her necessarily meditative real dreams. During the travels, Claire found herself happily having hushed conversations with Max. It was nice not being truly alone, and though the cat couldn’t speak, she inferred from his meows and rubs that he understood and concurred with everything she was saying.

Walmart, now, was a much different story. Of course, it was more than just a grocery store. Claire made her way through the aisles quietly, always listening for others that may be sneaking about. In her hand, she held the cocked Hellcat pistol. Any firing of the gun would certainly bring others to investigate, and the last thing she wanted was to cross paths with more cannibals. She was able to find some perishable items that had rolled underneath shelving units, and she quickly packed them into her bag. Claire also chose to pick up a charger for her phone, some lighters, more 9mm ammunition, and a canteen. Not every world she visited would be a post-apocalyptic nightmare, so she decided to be ready for anything.

As night fell, Claire and Max found themselves wrapped in a sleeping bag in a hidden corner of the store. She absently petted the cat as she thought about what Gabriel had told her about the vibrations. Use them as a compass. For sure, every time she jumped from one reality to the another, the vibrations she felt were agonizingly painful. But, she thought, I wasn’t a willing participant in the jump. Was she to give herself over to the vibrations? She would have to in order to use them as Gabriel suggested. The fact that Claire knew she would never get out of this mess, the decision to follow the vibrations was an easy one.

Max raised his head from his slumber and looked out into the store, a low, rumbling growl caught in his throat. Claire’s hand settled on the pistol by her hip and drew it out of the sleeping bag. She widened her eyes in an effort to improve her sight in the darkness, but it was her ears that allowed her to pinpoint the intruder’s location. Training the barrel on her target, she moved slowly to get herself in better firing position. Claire could still hear Max’s growl, but even the cat knew to keep the noise down.

Her breath as calm as still water, Claire’s eyes eventually materialized the target. You’ve got to be kidding me… The man she saw walked with an unearned arrogance, peering beady-eyed through glasses not large enough for his face. His generous form was clothed in firefighting gear, also unearned from what she knew of the man and his past. John Friedman. He held something in his hand, and she couldn’t quite ascertain what it was. Until he took a bite of it… Claire’s stomach turned. John was feasting on a human arm. Through her disgust, she did find a reason to smirk, for only John Friedman could maintain his portly shape in a world without much food. Claire even wondered if his wife and kids were his first meals, if they existed in this world.

Then Max let out a loud hiss and crouched even lower to the floor than he already was. John heard this and looked directly at her. She wasn’t sure if he had actually spotted her, or if he was just staring in the dark area where he heard the sound come from. Regardless, Claire applied pressure to the trigger, ready to put Cannibal John down like a lame horse. What John didn’t see was the larger person behind him. Whoever it was seemed like a black hole behind him, and like déjà vu, in a split second, John’s stalker had put its hand through his chest and removed his heart.

John’s body dropped limply to the floor when the figure removed its arm, and the memory of the bathroom attack at Fell’s flashed through Claire’s mind. The shadow put the heart to its mouth and took a big bite, her stomach churned. I gotta get out of Dahmer World… But she couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene. She watched as the attacker dropped the heart, the sound of its chewing reaching her ears. Then a light appeared on its chest, and it made a movement as though removing a necklace. The light moved in kind and stopped above John’s mouth. His soul left his corpse in the same pink and blue light as Claire’s others and joined with the light above.

A single word came to Claire’s lips as she watched, Yehwah. The figure disappeared in a flash just like Gabriel did. Another angel? The idea crossed her mind for an instant, but she knew it was wrong. A demon… Wonderful! She closed her eyes and uncocked the pistol. Max, calm once again, rubbed against her and purred. It was time to get some sleep, she acknowledged to herself, because tomorrow her journey would truly begin. As the dream took her, Claire chose not to drive her subconscious into meditation, but to walk among her others, in the dream, and gain more understanding of the vibrations running through her.

* * *

“Hello, Gabriel,” said Nathaniel calmly.

It always gave the angel a moment of pause when he heard the twins speak. They were only seventeen years old, yet he felt towards them the way normal humans felt towards him… inadequate. Their certainty and intention with every word spoken was not a naturally human trait. Nathaniel and Gabriel, his twin, were also quite stolid in their emotions. He had never seen them angry, or frustrated. He never saw them become confused, or scared. It was though they knew that they were special… and powerful. It was fitting that the boys were watching Star Trek, as they very much seemed to emulate the character of Data; articulate, intelligent, meticulous, and never at rest.

“Good evening, boys,” he replied and sat down next to them. “Is your mum around?”

“No, she isn’t. She’s running errands,” answered Gabriel with a smile. “And father is working late this evening.”

“Good, because we need to talk.”

Nathaniel also looked at the angel, his expression one of glee as his eyes sparkled. “Yes, we are in mother’s dream. It helps her.”

Gabriel turned immediately quizzical, “How does it help her? She gave up on her journey a few days ago and said that she never wanted to see me again.”

“And she has also found a way to meditate in her dream to avoid us and her others. But she’s back on the road again, correct?” Gabriel the Twin stared at Gabriel the Angel intently, as if informing him of things he should already know.

The angel squinted his eyes ever so slightly at the boy, not sure if he should be insulted by his tone of voice, or if he should be ashamed for not trusting Claire. He was not too fond of a human making him feel… human. The twins were the precise reason Gabriel had convinced the Yahweh to choose her for the succession. Nathaniel and his brother were unlike any humans he had ever known… existing in only one reality, and that reality just happened to be the Prime Reality. Gabriel had no idea what that would do to the balance of the multiverse, but he knew that something drastic would happen. The chaos in the realities during a single succession was substantial, but during a dual succession? He had only witnessed that once, and that was at the death of the Christ. Yahweh and Yehwah had agreed that the time for intervention was over, as the Christ showed them that humanity would not be controlled. So, they gave governance of the timelines over to the humans themselves, choosing primes as their successors to maintain the balance. In all of his five thousand years, though, Gabriel had never seen, nor felt, a ‘natural’ prime.

Angels and demons were handpicked by the Yahweh and the Yehwah, each of them having them having their others killed by their respective deity and granting audience and power to the prime. Angels and demons had long spoken of primes whose others died naturally and what powers they might have, but none had ever been aware of any. They were the urban legend of the supernatural community. Yet, here in this nondescript home of an everyday married couple sat two natural primes. What’s more, neither had ever had any others. Gabriel had never asked the twins if they were the only natural primes, but it wasn’t for lack of wanting to.

“There are thousands of us, Gabriel,” answered Nathaniel offhandedly. “But, yes, we are special. My apologies if that sounds arrogant.”

Gabriel did his best to control himself, these human feelings causing his mind to race into a mental block. He let out three successive breaths, trying to speak after each one, when the words finally came. “Just be ready, please. I don’t know when Claire will be here, but you two, and your mum, need to be prepared and need to keep your father out of it. He must not know!”

Gabriel the Twin stared flatly at Gabriel the Angel, “We know what to do, old friend. Just as you no doubt asked mother to have faith in you, you, too, must have faith in us. We know what’s at stake.”

The angel shifted his stare to the big screen television where Data sat in a cushioned chair with the elderly Captain Picard standing in front of him. “I want to live, however briefly, knowing that my life is finite. Peace, love, friendship. These are precious because we know they cannot endure.” The camera shifted to a closeup of the android as he opened his raised hand to show a brilliant, blue butterfly. As the insect takes flight, Data says, “A butterfly that lives forever…” The screen shifts back to the overhead view, the butterfly gaining altitude in the large room, “… is not really a butterfly at all.”

Gabriel dropped his eyes to the floor, then back to the twins. Both had identical smiles of reassurance. They are not butterflies at all. Once so sure about his actions and that this was the right choice for succession, the future now appeared as hazy to Gabriel as it did a few minutes before when he was with Claire. He disappeared with a wink and smile of his own.

Claire's journey continues in the next chapter of 'Prime':

A Murder of Crows