Whitley Strieber: 2012: The War for Souls

Martin said, “We’ve changed. The human mind is not the same, and a lot of people—the bad ones, I guess—are they gone? Could they be gone?”

They knew, then, that this terrible attack had also been a cleansing, because they could feel by its absence that the weight of wicked souls had been lifted.

Lindy was the first to utter the words that had been on all of their lips unspoken, from the moment they had found each other. “What about Winnie?”

Martin shook his head. “We believe that she didn’t make it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom, you just need to let yourself happen. Don’t think. Just—be with us. Part of us.”

“My daughter is missing! Where’s Bobby? Where are the state police, the FBI? The FBI gets involved in child disappearances. And what about our Jenny Alert? Where’s our Jenny Alert!”

He came to her and she didn’t want to do it, but she let him hold her because she had spent what seemed like an eon trapped in that strange somewhere-or-other tying to find him and to feel him where he ought to be and wasn’t. “My baby’s not bad, there’s nothing wrong with her, she’s hardly had a chance to live!”

She had to accept. But it wasn’t going to be easy, because it was unfair that her dear little girl suffer the same fate as the wicked, it was just really, really unfair!

Night fell, and Trevor made a place for himself on the floor of their little office, because his room was destroyed, and they did not want to disturb Winnie’s room.

It was cold and without electricity it got dark early on the twenty-second of December, and as it got dark, Lindy agonized over her lost child. But under their quilt that she had made when she was first married, it was wonderfully warm. They were dirty, though, and the warmth was ripening them. There was no water to wash but that, also, did not prevent her from being Martin’s wife again, and their bodies in the night were glad.

Mommy?

Lindy’s eyes flew open. She cried out. Martin’s hand caressed her cheek. “Sleep, my love.” He came close and kissed her. “From hell to heaven,” he murmured. Her whole heart, her blood, her soul took deepest joy in those words.

Mommy?

She leaped from the bed, ran to the window. “It’s her!”

Martin came to her, put his arms around her waist from behind. She pulled away from him. “Honey—”

“Shut up!”

Hi, Mommy.

“Oh, baby, my baby, I hear you! Where are you?”

Silence.

“She’s out there somewhere! Martin, she’s out there and we have to find her. Martin, the nighthawks—”

“Sh! Sh! There are no nighthawks, they’re gone.”

“How in hell do you know?”

Martin tried again to hold her, but she pulled away. “Listen!”

“Lindy, love…” She was hurt. Everybody was hurt. So hurt.

Then Trevor was there. Listen to her, Dad.

He turned around. Trevor came to them, nodded toward the window.

Then Martin heard it, the ticking of an engine out in the dark. An electric surge of fear went through him. They had no gun. They still had no gun!

Then he saw it, moving slowly closer to the house, a rattling old car with only the single light.

“That’s Bobby,” he said.

Then she was running, Lindy was running, and Martin, and behind them Trevor.

The car stood in the driveway, its engine guttering. Then the driver’s door opened, and Martin saw in the light from within a tiny form prim in the passenger’s seat.

Lindy leaped at Bobby’s car, threw the door open and there was her little girl, who came out into her arms, and Lindy danced, whirling round and round with her child silent in her arms, her child smiling a soft smile.

“Baby, baby, baby,” Lindy cried, then cradled her and covered her with kisses.

Hi, Winnie said, and it echoed like a song in them all.

“Buddy, she came in half an hour ago.”

Martin looked at him. Embraced his old friend. “I thought you were a goner for sure.”

“I thought you were.” He looked at Lindy and Winnie. “I don’t know how to tell you this, or even exactly what I am telling you.”

“I know she’s dead,” Martin said. “I saw her body.”

Daddy, it’s all changed. Winnie and Trevor’s thoughts echoed as one.

He had a son who could read minds, now a daughter returned from the dead. They took her inside, loving her, touching her, and she was full and normal flesh in every way.

Bobby lingered. “Boy, they did a number around here.”

“Oh, yes.”

“I don’t know quite what happened, but I know you were a big part of it. I can hear people thinking. Thinking about what happened, and a lot of them are thinking about you, Martin.”

We can all hear each other, Trevor said in their minds.

Gonna be interesting times for cops, Bobby thought. He glanced around, then laughed a little. He took Martin aside. “She isn’t the same,” he whispered.

I’m all different, Winnie added. Then, This house is a mess!

They—Lindy threw a picture of the glaring reptilian features of Mazle into their minds—did it.

Winnie reached into the air, and her old friend Bearish came flopping into her hands. He was soaked and crusted with ice and mud. You got lost.

As she moved through the house, everything she touched came back to its previous condition. She opened the fridge. We still have to go to the store. Then, in words, “Except for these apples. I din steal ’em. They were grounded.”

She brought out five small apples. They were cold, a little old, obviously falls. Martin was famished, they all were, and they ate silently. He wondered where they’d come from, and saw in his mind a picture of the Wright’s apple tree, it’s fruit all fallen.

She came and hugged his legs. He lifted her and thought that she was not quite as heavy as she had been, not quite as solid. He knew that he held a great miracle in his arms, and that there must be millions of such miracles over all the earth right now. He kissed his miracle and she laughed, and he thought he was holding the promise of the whole future in his arms.

You are, Trevor said as he crunched into his apple.

The little family was taking a journey into a new world, and this journey was being repeated all across the planet, as a new mankind rose up from the ruins of the old, and the risen and the living joined together in a new chorus, and the long ages of illusion that there is a curtain between the living and the dead were ended.

The undiscovered country had been discovered, and the explorers were returning.

Winnie settled into the deep comfort of her father’s arms. Bobby reached out and touched her, and she felt the energy in him that was a little sharp in places, and smoothed it out. Tears came to his eyes. He stared at her, drank her in. She let him clutch her, she laughed, she had been on such a long journey. “You smell like roses,” he whispered.

She ate her apple, thinking of what life is—what it really is. She thought of her old body still lying where it had fallen, giving itself back to dust and memory. Life is the mystery of the world, she told them.

The minds around her fell silent.

Death had ended, they just didn’t know it yet. She understood what had really been done here, and who had done it, and the real reason, that only the good remained, because only the good could find the next secret, the true meaning of life without death.

Over time, she would tell them everything, that there was a new humanity born and a whole new way of living to be discovered, but now she laid her very tired head against her daddy’s shoulder.

She would sleep on this night the sweetest of all sleeps, deep in her home, surrounded by her family, at one with their love and all love, in a world that had been saved.