Son of Lazarus

Chapter 31: The Last Straw

August 1st, 2041

6:20p.m.

16 days, 0 hours, 5 minutes and 15 seconds to War.

   The sky looked a lot like it had before this whole mess started: blue and cloudless. The wind was soft and warm on his skin and the grass swayed gently in the breeze of summer. It was just as it was before the asylum, before the nightmares....before Tammy's death. But somehow, something didn't feel right. A frown came over his face as he stopped dead center in the middle of a clearing. The young man turned his head to gaze around the area, looking for something or someone. A branch snapped somewhere to his left, making him spin in an almost complete circle. Suddenly the wind grew harsh, cold and uninviting and the sky darkened almost to that of a crimson blood stained color though it amplified the color in his own eyes. Another twig snapping elsewhere in the forest made him turn again, his red into blue eyes scanning every tree, every bush for any signs of life.

   "Tristan," the voice made him do a full circle, the wind having all but ceased. He could barely feel it against his skin and the air suddenly grew cold and tense. A chuckle filled the air for a moment before he finally stopped spinning. He knew who was here.
   "I know you're there," he said simply, letting his muscles relax. "Show yourself....mother."
   "Your senses are getting sharper," she purred, stepping out from behind a tree right in his peripheral vision. "I'm so proud of you, Tristan." There was a small smile spreading across his face at her warm words. It made his heart soar to hear them. But he could sense there was something more she had to say. He hardly ever saw Zathora herself in his dreams unless it was important. He decided to ask and licked his lips to prepare himself for his question.
   "You've got something to tell me," he said, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears. "What is it, mother?"

   Zathora sighed heavily and approached Tristan. Once she reached him, she laid a hand on his shoulder and began to stroke and caress his face, brushing his bangs out of his eyes every so often. "I need to warn you of something," she said slowly, her words beginning to echo through the trees as though the wind was causing it to bounce off the bark. "Something is going to happen that will cause you to take action against your oppressors. Don't let this death be in vain, Tristan. He's already sacrificed so much to make sure you and your friends survive." Tristan felt his blood run cold in his veins. Someone was going to die?
   "Who are you talking about?" The question nearly stuck in his throat. He didn't want to know which of his friends was going to die. Zathora smiled at him and stepped away, fading back into the darkness from which she had stepped.
   "I think," she began slowly, "you already know."

   Tristan woke to the sound of an alarm going off within the Hive's hideout and feet running against the stone floor. With a groan, he sat up in his bunk with a hand pressed to his forehead. Once the dream world had faded from his eyes, he rose to his feet and headed out into the hallway, watching as two more people disappeared into the main room of the hideout, closest to the door that led out into the forest that protected them on one side. Once he got into the center of the room, he saw Zack and Lily standing side by side facing the door that kept them all safely hidden from the Organization. Cautiously, he stepped up to stand by Lily's side. "What's going on?" He asked as he leaned into her ear. Lily leaned back into him and responded, her voice quivering with uncertainty.
   "I'm not sure," she whispered, making Tristan frown in response. "There are people outside but...I can't read their minds. It's like I've been blocked..."

   That was never good. The only way Tristan knew of how to block a Telepath's mind from doing anything in their field of expertise was what they saw on Zack when they rescued him. He looked down to his side just as his shadow began to stir. A monster was manifesting and he wanted to use it. As it manifested into his hand, Tristan watched as it took on the shape of a snake. He brought it to his lips and whispered something to it before setting it down near the door, where it slithered out into the world beyond their safe haven. He could feel the tension in the air and could smell the fear coming off of every single person and child in this entire hideout. His eyes traveled around the room for a moment before they returned to the door.