Anthony DeCosmo - Fusion

“It’s still open, Father.”

Jorgie did not appear in pain, but a look of stress draped over the boy’s face, as if he held aloft a great weight but one supported by his mind, not muscles.

The Nyx struggled against these new bonds but could not gain freedom.

“He was taking from before, Father-reaching back and bringing his monsters here-he was cheating, Father. He was breaking the rules!”

The portal in the buzzing lines of energy opened to a waterfront of shops and restaurants and the baseball stadium named Camden Yards. The city of Baltimore. Those storefronts and parks teemed with monsters from the void. Trevor remembered Reverend Johnny finding and exterminating one of The Order’s outposts in that city.

Trevor realized-given another moment Voggoth would have pulled those monsters from Baltimore and deposited them outside the temple as reinforcements for the ongoing battle. Shepherd and Johnny would have found nothing; just like his Generals had found empty cities in Cincinnati, Oklahoma City, Dallas, and Grand Forks when they had expected to find hordes of Voggoth’s forces.

The history they lived when finding those empty cities came from Voggoth’s action in the here and now; in the temple: what the Gods of Armageddon had referred to as ‘local linear time’ on this Earth-humanity’s host world-when Trevor eavesdropped on their gathering last year.

He understood.

“Jorgie, listen,” he spoke calm but firmly to his son; a difficult task given the chamber full of energy, the Nyx trying to pounce, and his son’s fascination with the power surge. “You’re a link in the chain! You have already done this. You have to do it now or everything will change.”

The image morphed to a view of the present. Outside the temple, lines of European infantry slowly retreated before the horde protecting the structure. Armand’s FAMAS rifle fired round after round slaughtering monsters wholesale but too many remained. Artillery positions on the ridge were overrun-motorcycle cavalry charged desperately into the advance but could not stem the tide.

“I don’t understand.”

“You have to do what Voggoth did. You can go back, Jorgie. You are the ark!”

The boy absorbed what his father said and as he did his eyes widened with a revelation and with fear.

“Father-he said he went looking for Mother. That bad Missionary Man-he said he went looking for Mother to kill her and me while I was in her belly.”

Trevor stood. He felt pinpricks against his skin and the hairs on his arms stood straight like needles.

“Then save her, JB. You have to go back and save her or you will never exist and none of this will have happened.”

“I don’t-I don’t know if I can.”

“You are in control, JB. Concentrate and use your mind to go back-farther than Voggoth went-go back to the beginning.”

His son’s face contorted with concentration and frustration.

“Easy, Jorgie.”

“I can’t reach it-it’s there but I can’t reach it-it’s like I’m being blocked!”

Trevor glanced up at the rumbling black clouds. They struggled in the grip of the energy field-and against the child’s will.

Trevor narrowed his eyes and urged, “Take it from them, Jorgie. It’s time to be strong-stronger than them. If they won’t let go- hurt them.”

Jorgie’s eyes found the pair of cloud-creatures suspended in the air above as if encased by another pair of spheres but these of energy.

“I want to go back,” he growled at them and stuck out his lip. “I want to GO BACK!”

The clouds twisted and a nightmarish moan escaped from a chorus of vaporous faces forming one after another in the inky mists. Flashes-the smell of something foul burning-the storm of energy raged in the space between the two paralyzed Nyx. Images came and went one after another after another. Between the bright flashes and the speed of change, Trevor struggled to identify the images.

“I can reach out-I’m looking for Mommy.”

“Concentrate, Jorgie! Make them take you where you want to go.”

An oil platform in the North Sea. Workers in yellow hardhats battling strong winds and raucous waves-gone in an instant leaving behind empty decks.

“It’s not easy, Father,” the boy pleaded in frustration. “Everything keeps spinning and moving. I reach out for her and then-and then she’s gone and it’s someone else…”

Calmer waters-that same platform off in the distance-dozens of green coffins burst into existence in a different time and sink beneath the waves to a watery grave.

“Father! I killed them! They’re gone-I can’t do this!”

“You already have. Keep trying!”

A magnificent temple dominated by a Kmer-style tower with two sets of steep steps leading to terraces. Four smaller prangs surrounded the main tower, each decorated in seashells and porcelain. Tourists dressed in a variety of colorful, warm-weather clothing swarmed the grounds moving between somber-looking Buddhists. Then, in an instant, they vanished.

“I can grab them, Father, but it’s like scooping sand. What I do grab feels like it’s slipping through my hands.”

Jorgie’s eyes closed and he concentrated his will on the task. Trevor saw fatigue and aggravation battering his son. He wanted to grab him, pull him from the energy field, and comfort him in his arms. But he knew he could not. His son had a role to play; a power that needed to bloom if humanity were to survive the day. No matter how hard-no matter the pain-no matter the number of failures, Trevor knew he must let his son try.

The tourists and worshippers re-appeared along the banks of the Chao Phraya, not far from the temple at a time after the armies of Armageddon had descended upon the Earth. The cluster of emerald sarcophagi appeared in the midst of a pack of monstrous Jaw-Wolves playing with the bones of victims in a riverside park.

“Jorgie-Jorgie listen to me,” Trevor took a deep breath, held his hands palm-up in a calming manner, and spoke to his son in his best father’s voice. “Think of a place first, Jorgie. Don’t worry about time or where to go, think of place. Think about home, JB.”

“I-yes, okay, Father, I understand.”

Trevor understood. Voggoth had created this gateway by enslaving the powers of the Nyx. Jorgie jumped in mid-stream, commandeering the mechanism but without any real control. It amazed him that JB could do so much with no preparation. Yet if history were to be fulfilled, he would need to do more. Trevor could not fathom what would happen if he pulled Jorgie from the energy pool before he completed his task, but he had to believe that the world outside the temple would change drastically. All their success to date might be wiped clean and any chance at saving humanity would vanish as quickly as the ‘ark riders’ had vanished in the days before the invasion.

“You’re starting in the right ‘when’, Jorgie,” Trevor said as he remembered disappearances in Norway and Thailand during those early days. “But you’ve put them back too early.”

“I can’t control this.”

“Yes, you can. The same way you controlled Voggoth’s machines on the island last year. I have confidence in you.”

JB-his eyes still closed-muttered, “I’m in the right when…”

A spinning globe stopped on the savannahs of Africa. An entire village vanished.

“I can’t hold them for long.”

“Can you move them somewhere, Jorgie? Can you take them to a different ‘where’?”

”I’m trying-I’m trying…”

The villagers re-appeared in cases of green in a wooded patch not far from the remains of burned and collapsed huts and buildings; something had come through and destroyed their homes. Before the image changed, Trevor saw a reason for hope: he saw a group of camouflage-wearing African troops riding in Jeeps approach the still-steaming vessels. If this was a scene in the time since Armageddon’s start, then perhaps these soldiers were survivors, too.