Chapter 17

Number 2 (Hoover) displayed resistance far greater than anticipated. I watched Ramses and father struggle, shoving his bruised body into the spike-less iron-maiden. After they grew tired of having an audience, and his persistent howling, father permitted us on the main deck. The rain moved south, and the stars above shone like cosmic crystals in the open black sky.

Number 1 (Helen) began tracing the universal blueprint with her index finger, attempting to educate our nautical combine on constellations. To me, she looked like an absurdist painter without a brush. Pollock-natured, making up designs as she went along. I never believed for a second that she located Orion's belt, but I remained silent to salvage the normalcy. Peace, calmness, a climate that we all needed. Half my body was slouched over the gunwale, peeking into God's bathtub. Counting the galloping waves nearing, then squatting my knees to ride the boat when they approached.

"You see, Orion, was a great hunter in the underworld. And Zeus…Zeus placed him in the stars, for all the world to see after he was killed by a giant scorpion."

Hearing Number 1 (Helen) mention an arachnid shook loose a forgotten joke about her being a reptile. Something with scales, an iguana maybe But I can't piece together the details. Like explaining a dream, all the parts you recall don't quite fit in the rules of common language, and in the end, the whole vision is lost thanks to you trying to remember it. That's ironic…I think

I straightened out my back and watched Number 4 (Aries) retain Number 1's (Helen) lesson on how the sky and horoscopes all fit together. Her angelic presence was bathing in the moonlight. A few waves crested higher in the ocean, and the splash exploded behind her, reaching the main deck. I didn't budge, and neither did she. Letting the River of Styx baptize her, perhaps a privilege that father will take notice of.

Apollo remained in the shadows with Number 3 (Raena). He dared not touch her, but she was caressing his arm, which by now was clearly showing signs of gangrene. She prayed for convalescence, but it wasn't answered. I pondered how long till father tossed him over, and whether our finned predators would devour him as well. A part of me believed that to be a good idea. Apollo was never part of the family, and never will be.

Number 5's (Cliff) departure into the River of Styx ran circles in my mind. No, not circles, more of a marathon I'd say. He maintained such a feeble frame for a grown man. When we hurled him against his will, it was like lifting a wicker chair covered in flesh. I remembered his Divine Evaluation always held the shortest length.

Imagine watching someone preaching their previous existence, in the most heartfelt way, but the main attraction was his sunken eyes, the protruding bone definition in his face as if his skin was stretched to cover his skull, and toothpick fingers poking inward to his own chest. Tapping at the top of his ribcage whenever the word 'I' crossed his testimony. He wasn't built for this, father must've brought him along out of mercy. We still didn't know what the endgame was to our passage at sea, but I was positive that he'd impede on the agenda. I almost felt bad for the sharks, being let down by such a flimsy meal. But no worries, Apollo will fill the void in their stomachs soon enough. I'll make sure of it.

When we were permitted back into the meeting room, small spots of blood was showing on the front of the iron maiden contraption. A tarp was covering the bullet holes in the ceiling. Father was wrapping his hand in gauze. Ramses had a gash above his left eyebrow. It must've been hard to tame the beast, judging from father's breathing, he was lucky to have Ramses there. Whom we all looked at with new eyes. Apollo ogled the First-Aid equipment like it was water to a dehydrated stowaway. Why wasn't he granted that Was he not worthy, or did his punishment include no help

"No worries children, Number 2 shall return in time. His mind fractured briefly, but he will be healed by the morning,' father assured us.

I shot my arm into the air before he could muster up his next sentence.

"Yes, Number 7, what is it"

"Father, what is the endgame What destiny do you see for me, for us" I questioned.

Ramses raised his bloody eyebrow.

"Does Number 2's condition not remind you of yourself Number 7 Questions like that are for the non-believers…and you are not a part of that group."

The low rumble of a boat engine, not ours, but from outside, gained volume and we all took notice. Ramses walked to the door.

"Gilfoy is here. Continue calming down your… children, or whatever, I'll handle it," mentioned Ramses, blinking hard to stop the blood from dripping into his eye.

On Ramses's departure, father pursed his lips and paused before speaking.

"The final destination for all of us is to inspire war. We will be the genesis to the start of a new world. All creation is birthed from the ashes of the old. We will set fire to the foundation, ignite new thought, new heights, all of earth will benefit from our doing. This, I promise you all."

That night I slept alone in the male cabin, being the only male follower left. I hugged my pillow, wishing it was Number 4 (Aries). Lulling myself into slumber with 'God wants all of us' repeating itself over the speakers, just like every other night. I figured that if I thought hard enough, maybe Number 4 (Aries) would visit me in my dreams, and I was right.

In my dream, father and I were floating deep in space, next to the sun, which had no effect on us whatsoever. We were impervious, unbothered, like titans of the galaxy. Both of us, sitting in old mahogany chairs, occupying different sides of a table with a chessboard on it. Somewhere deep in the astral plane, playing man's oldest game. To my surprise, I moved my knight and captured his queen, positioning myself into the advantage. Father smiled, lifted up the queen piece off the board, and chucked it back into a black hole. He looked at me sinisterly, letting his teeth show before opening his mouth to speak. Trying to scare me away, like a wolf showcasing his canines to broken down prey.

"This appears to be 'check' old friend."

I watched him move his king out of harm's way, and without a sound, I cornered him with my own queen, which was sculpted to resemble Number 4 (Aries).

"No…it appears to be checkmate," I replied back, no smiles or threats on my face, just blunt honesty.

"Checkmate Hmm, I guess there's no room in this universe for two kings," he said as he burst into bright orange flames.

I woke in a sweat, having learned something from the symbolism of my dream. They say genius unrefined resembles a flash of lightning. Right then and there, brilliance entered my mind. Not only was it a testament to my eventual overthrow of father, but I figured out how to get rid of Apollo. With only Ramses to seduce to my side, I would become the alpha.

I tried to block out the noise from the above speakers, along with the doubt, infesting my mind. Would it be right to lead with nowhere to go Leading my flock blindly into the devil's mouth I dare not strike too soon. Let father layout more of his plan first. When the spaces between the puzzle pieces reveal itself, I will be the only one seeing the big picture.

"Gilfoy is the unknown olive branch. The only salvation they have, too bad for them, it's only a name"

JOURNAL ENTRY OF JOHN VINSON #019

There's a fine line between genius and insanity…I erased that line. Don't mind me…that's the booze talkin'.

Newest clue, Dimitri Davenport…He's the sleeper cell agent, along with his wife. They went into this together as cult infiltrators. His so-called 'brother' doesn't exist, the real Dimitri is a foster child. The little brother is a shadow officer, just like Lewis.

Lewis was going undercover with the name 'Bruce.' They even bought a makeshift bar to add to the effect. Along with an accountant posing as the old lady above in the bakery.

The operation was too successful, and the married couple turned into wide-eyed strangers overnight. According to the reports, Dimitri showed a higher level of mental resistance, able to withstand psychological torture, more than any other candidate. I wonder who the other candidates were

Amazing how deep things can go into your subconscious. One day your life is wheatgrass shots, baby kale, and salmon. The next, you're fixing a hole in your leg from a close encounter of the metal kind. Performing sutra on yourself with 'Kind of Blue' lulling the ethereal background.

The CIA placed them in the same workplace to get close to Helen Doughtry for surveillance. Apparently, she was the weakest link in Ken William's chain, by weak, I mean easiest to be tracked. By all accounts, she is probably his most loyal. Her frequent trips to Mexico, assisting him with fake passports, money, travel, all of it, sloppy, desperate. She was the best of a bad idea. But what's Helen's real connection in all this Why does everything point back to four years ago My guess is that four years ago, the FBI and CIA got involved, or that's when the sleeper cell project was born. Right after Cyrus' death, but before the first voyage.

The worst part is, the only one who knows their code words, the sentence to activate their old memories, their past lives, was found on the shore of a beach in a breaker wave with the number 6 branded into the back of his neck. The mole, he fucked up good. Now they may never know that before all this, they were madly in love.