The Prophet: Life: A Sci-Fi Thriller by David Beers

Author:David Beers [Beers, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-12T22:00:00+00:00

Rachel Veritros

The juxtaposition between Rachel Veritros’s revolution, and David Hollowborne’s, must not simply be glossed over.

The Summoning, as it had to be, was much the same for both.

The lead up for each was different, and perhaps the situation contributed to it as much as anything else. Even so, the contrast was quite stark.

Rachel Veritros took only five years gathering her troops, yet spent a year planning before war.

David Hollowborne spent 20 years amassing his soldiers, and released them with little to no thought.

Their blood was the same. What David lacked in strategy, he made up for in size. What Rachel lacked in size, she made up for in strategy.

She, of course, didn’t know she would lose. She didn’t know that the bloodshed across the entire world would be for nothing, and that in the end hers would be shed as well. She didn’t know death would encompass her movement as it had the one who came before her. Not in the beginning.

At the end of the Summoning’s first week, she sat down with her lieutenants. She looked at the four of them, taking their measure. A large, red gash sat across the man to her right’s cheek. Reynold Listoria. A name that shouldn’t have been involved with war, but teaching something, somewhere. Yet he would have a scar dripping from the corner of his eye to his chin for the rest of his life.

“Okay,” Rachel said. “Seven days are over. Let’s hear it. Where are we?”

Brail spoke first, and though Rachel had said nothing else about their earlier conversation, she hadn’t forgotten it either.

“We’re in control of 40% of all cities within the True Faith. Population, 65%.”

Reynold spoke next. “The Old World is at 90% of cities, 98% population.”

Rachel looked to Corey.

“One Path. 70, and 80%.”

Finally, she looked at Werner.

“Constant Ministry is at 98% and 98%. We control everything here except for the Citadel itself. The Representatives have walled themselves off. Getting in will be hard.”

Rachel leaned back in her chair, a brown leather thing, old with holes in the arm rests, but still comfortable. She tilted her head up and stared at the ceiling.

“How many dead? Them and us.”

“We’re reaching the millions for them, Rachel,” Reynold said.

“And us.”

“Best estimates, putting us at 50,000.”

She let out a long sigh, not looking down from the ceiling. She said nothing for a few seconds, stretching it perhaps as long as a minute. Thoughts were in her head, many of them, but as always, she found the truth of the matter. Any number of questions could be asked, an infinite amount of orders given, but Rachel knew only a few things were critical.

Truth.

That’s what she had found in the Constant’s courtyard 10 years ago, and that’s what she was going to bring to this world.

“They’re regrouping,” she said. “You all know this.” She looked back down at her lieutenants. “The Ministries are all communicating and readying a counterattack on us. Our people won’t be prepared. More are going to die and the numbers will be much higher.

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