CHAPTER SEVEN
The Guardians who were still in the house sat down slowly as Damali spoke in gentle, soft tones. J.L., Krissy, Dan, and Bobby stared at her, unblinking. Big Mike folded his arms and drew in shuddering breaths, then pulled Inez into an embrace as silent tears streamed down her face. Rider kept his chin up and his gaze fastened to the window as he dragged on a cigarette. Jose stared at his fist - he had given a welcome-home pound to Mike - then glanced at Juanita, who simply appeared numb. Carlos leaned his head back on the doorframe and closed his eyes.
"Marlene and Shabazz, Marjorie and Berkfield, are the only ones, besides me and Carlos, who aren't infected," Damali said quietly. "But, there's no way they won't be, eventually." Her gaze drifted out of the window, as she spoke. "I've already mentally alerted Mar, and she's breaking it to Marjorie and Richard as we speak." But, in truth, how was she going to split up the team? Human touch was so automatic, such a reflex that sooner or later, when someone is in tears, when food was being served...
Father Patrick's voice came through the speaker in heavy, fatigued jags. "All of us have been infected, too, Damali. We're just finding out that the only cleric available to come to your team for assistance is Monk Lin. The rest of us are quarantined."
"Then don't send him here," Carlos said, pushing off from the doorframe. "The man is safe, and - "
"He's the only one among us who has not been fully compromised. Therefore, his judgment is sound. He is seasoned, his many issues are resolved. There is not much within him for the darkness to dredge from his soul to turn his mind. His code is to serve; his life is one of selfless commitment to humankind. There is nowhere to hide from this, nowhere to run. He will accompany you to wherever you must go."
"What do you suggest, Father? Beyond the obvious," Carlos said calmly, not opening his eyes. "We can't stay here quarantined if we have to move around the world to find the Chairman and Lilith. We're all walking biohazards. Every hotel we check into, restaurant we eat at, plane we fly on, limo we take, we're potentially bumping people in airports, train stations... How do we move without spreading this shit?"
"Live your lives as normally as you can and find the antidote... close the portals. Every human being may potentially be already infected; it could be dormant and resident everywhere worldwide. That's the issue; we don't know, because they have been moving about as you indicated."
"Then why don't we do this all together, Father, one last time, like old times?" Carlos asked, beginning to pace. "If it doesn't matter now that this shit spread, then, what difference will it make if we're all strapped and go out in a blaze as one?"
"Because," the elderly cleric said, his voice a shaky murmur, "those of us affected earlier are already beginning to show deteriorating signs of change."
Damali and Carlos stared at each other as the mute team passed terror-stricken glances.
"We're sending you an unaffected spiritual warrior... who, by the time he reaches you, may have been bumped or touched just handing his plane ticket to someone. It doesn't matter. But for the moment, he's the one that is strongest."
"How much time we talking, Father?" Rider asked, looking at Damali.
"Your team has maybe thirty days until it begins to implode like all the others. We aren't concerned any longer about the spread
13
