"In politics, nothing happens by accident. If it happens, you can bet it was planned that way." - Franklin Roosevelt

Everyone had questions for Atticus.

"I have family in California. Do you know what's happening there?"

"I heard that there's plague spreading on the East Coast. Is that true?"

"Is Texas really establishing itself as an independent nation?"

I listened as he answered them all. Things in California were much the same as here. People were seeking a "new normal." There were pockets of good and areas of total chaos. Detroit had burned to the ground. The Redwood trees were growing at an astonishing rate: probably due to the increase in worship to the gods of the forests who put their energy into the trees. The effects of that on the environment were yet to be seen.

In many places of dense population, disease broke out. Too many people, and no decent sanitation. Few hospitals were open. Those that were simply incubated disease.

There had been skirmishes nearly everywhere over land and resources.

"What of the rest of the world?" I asked. "America is in shambles. What is happening everywhere else?"

"More of the same. Many who were worshipped in ancient days have gone back to the people who worshipped them, and been welcomed with open arms. There is a return to the days of tribal division and theocracies led by powerful men purporting to be priests. Cities are dangerous places. There tends to be more peace and cooperation in rural areas but, at the same time, those areas are more vulnerable to attacks. Many of the legends are roaming the countryside satisfying their every appetite as they go. The Annamite Mountains are controlled by trolls now. No human would go there. But there are good things, too. There are thousands of communities like this one, where people are learning to work together for their greater good, instead of trying to fend for themselves. Some of the men and women who have special skills--doctors, nurses, builders--they are traveling for no reason except to find places where they can be helpful. One group of brothers has set up an extraordinary network of sharing and trading in South America. They even have a postal system in place, where their mailmen ride donkeys, so the mountain people can stay in communication with their loved ones."

I smiled, thinking of the three brothers. They'd seen their dream fulfilled. I'd have bet they had no idea how far their love had stretched.

I asked him about what I was hearing from the other side. I suspected that, like Raziel, he knew and understood far more than me about what was happening.

"I have heard that there is one who is setting himself up to rule. Not just another little tribe or even a nation like America. More like a king. A king of this world."

Atticus' boyish face showed every emotion he experienced, and when he looked afraid, icy fingers gripped my heart. Who was this beast that powerful angels feared him? He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. "There is one moving among the Realms and the beings there speak of setting him up as a ruler of men."

"With an army of supernatural creatures," I said.

"His power will be immense," he agreed.

"Do you know when he will make his move?"

He shook his head. "No. But it won't be long now."

Atticus left us that night. A Wanderer is ever restless to move on, he explained as he offered his farewells. Later, as others slept and I longed to do the same, I considered all that we had been told. I thought about the one who would dare try to reign over the entire earth in times such as these.

Growing up in America in the days of my childhood, "freedom" was something you took for granted. After all, you were taught from birth that freedom was your God-given, inalienable right. Therefore, there was no other way than to be free. Of course, as I grew older I came to understand that some unfortunate souls in backward, poverty-stricken lands didn't enjoy all the same freedoms I did. But those folks were far away. Their problems didn't really affect my world. Another few years passed and I began to see that there were a lot of holes in the theories of "freedom." One man's freedom could lead to another man's poverty. What happened if my freedom infringed upon others rights? How free can we really be?

I grew up in "the land of the free", but there were all sorts of restrictions. I had freedom of speech, but I couldn't curse excessively in public or slander my neighbor. I had freedom of religion, but I couldn't pray in school. I had freedom to travel, but I couldn't drive at excessive speeds.

When the creatures of the Realms, the Legends and Myths, chose to tear down the veils, we lost many freedoms. Under martial law, people were no longer allowed to leave their homes at night. Due to concerns over spreading panic, internet use had been monitored and restricted. The powers that be had put every measure in place that they could think of to maintain order in the face of extraordinary change but it hadn't been enough. Things fell apart. The government ceased to exist. Those of us left behind were, for the first time in our lives, totally free.

And chaos reigned.

We'd heard stories of numerous men and women, all armed to the teeth, rising up, claiming leadership over various tracts of land. The strong and persuasive garnered support and followers. Most of them seemed the equivalent of the madmen who used to yell about the end of the world on busy city street corners. Now that I considered it, the guys on the street corners may have been saner than we all thought.

Aside from the humans who were busy proclaiming themselves kings and queens, there had been others, setting themselves up as gods. Why follow a mere mortal when there is someone else telling you stories of having fought alongside Charlemagne? Why risk the inevitability of the death of a president when you have a ruler who could guide the people for the next millennium? Even without the voices, it wouldn't have been a surprise to hear Atticus' news of the demon ruler, building the most powerful kingdom on earth.

The warm days of spring brought with them a number of travelers. Most folks were walking, though a few were on motorcycles. Sometimes they were just wandering, looking for a way to pass the days. Many were trying to get to family members from whom they'd become separated during the confusion of the preceding months. The stories were sometimes little more than vague rumor and other times first-hand accounts. Over time, we gained a clear picture of the new ruler. He had a plan. His forces had seized control of Kansas City and set up his headquarters in the old Kansas City Power and Light Company building. Kansas City made perfect sense. It was the exact center of the former United States. He had an army of thousands that was growing every day and his army had the trains running on time. Kansas City was the only place in North America with electricity twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. There were road crews, and emergency teams, and postal delivery. Crime, of the sort perpetrated by humans as well as by others, was practically nonexistent there. Everyone had a job, a way to contribute. Those who came seeking refuge were instantly assimilated. They even had the public schools open, complete with hot lunches and bus service.

Of course, all of those things came with a price. Nothing is free in this crazy world. The price? Child and virgin sacrifice. After all, the king was a demon. He called himself Tesscati, and fed upon the blood of the innocent. I needed to face him.

The morning we'd chosen for our departure dawned rainy and warm. Donovan sat on the kitchen counter and watched as I rifled through the cabinets and placed my choices on the counter. I'd take the bread and some cheese, maybe a few hard-boiled eggs. I glanced up at my boy. "What else, do you think?"

"I don't want you to go," he said.

It was so unlike him that it took me back a bit.

"I'll be fine."

I knew I was still just a mortal woman, but I also knew I was taking this trip, not as Simone, but as The Prophet. There was nothing the demon could do to me while I was in his capital city.

"You should be here with us. We need you here."

I set down the can I was holding and walked over to stand in front of him. With him sitting on the counter like this, we were almost eye to eye. The boyishness seemed to be gone from his face. He was leaving childhood behind too quickly. The thought made me want to smile and cry, all at once. I had made the mistake before, of underestimating my boy's ability to "hear.". I'd learned from him that the chatter wasn't always random. Some creatures were able to reveal or hide themselves as they chose.

"Spill the beans, kiddo. What's up?"

He shrugged.

"I need you to talk to me, Donny. You know I'll believe you. I promised you that and I've stuck to it, right?"

"It's not that." He paused to find just the right words. In that moment he was so much like his father that it was comical. I waited for him to be ready to continue. "I don't know, Mom. Something just feels wrong. I can't say what it is. I haven't heard anything. It's just... a feeling. I don't want you to go."

"I'll tell you a secret, buddy." I leaned in close. "I don't really want to go. Not even a little. But I think I have to."

"Raziel says there's always a choice."

Leave it to this kid! He always knew how to challenge me. "That's true. Or... at least I think it is. Sometimes it doesn't feel that way but I think we really do have the option to say no. But where would that get us? I didn't ask for any of this, just like you didn't ask to be able to hear. But it's part of who I am and it would be wrong of me to deny that. I could choose to follow a different path but it wouldn't be my path, you know? No one would stop me but it would never really feel right."

He looked directly into my eyes. "I'm scared, Mom. Something bad is coming."

"I know, Donny. I'm scared, too." I wanted to hug him, but I could sense the discomfort I was causing, just by standing so close. What was this part of my son that recoiled from the light? What did it mean for his future? What could I ever do to help him?

"Mom?" he asked, softly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Denisa could go with you?"

"Denisa?" It was an unusual request. The vampires stayed with us and did their fair share of the work, but neither spent much time near me. "Why do you want me to take her?"

He chewed his lip. "She looks at me weird," he said.

"Has she ever done anything?"

Giggling.

His bullies were giggling.

I could hear them and it was disconcerting to say the least. What could they find so funny?

Beware.

He'll strike you at your weakest.

We stand with you.

The display of solidarity from the other side was just as unsettling. Exactly what were they warning me of?

Donovan rubbed his forehead.

"You OK?" I asked.

He nodded.

"I don't think Denisa will come. I'm not sure she could stand to be with me so long.

He slumped, defeated. I searched for a way to sooth him. "I'll ask Atsheena to keep an eye on her, OK?"

"Sure," he said, sounding far from happy.

"I love you, Donovan. So much."

"Love you too, Mom."

He slid off the counter and left me to finish preparing.

My husband gave me a hard time, too.

"I don't understand why none of the men can go with you," Michael said for at least the third time. "You still haven't really given me a proper answer."

I hadn't given him a proper answer because I didn't really understand it myself. It was one of those things I just knew because I knew it. And he knew that. And I knew that he hated it. And he knew that I knew that he hated it.

I rolled my eyes at my own ridiculous inner dialogue, and lifted another gas tank into the back of the pickup. "You know, sometimes you're a bit male-centric for a sensitive, artistic type," I teased.

"Simone," he laid a hand on my arm and then took it away again too quickly. He was not smiling at my attempted.

"Look, I don't have an answer you'll accept. I know it feels weird to you, but you should know by now that there is no one who can hurt me right now. Maybe someday, but not right now. And I think even the toughest bad guy would have his hands full with Freyja. And Susan...." I trailed off. Susan was the weak link. She was totally vulnerable. She knew it, I knew it, Michael knew it. "Susan is supposed to be there."

He said nothing, but hefted the last full tank up, slammed the tailgate shut and walked me around the front. He had already pulled the latch for the hood. "If you need to get in here, there's a trick to it. Put your hand in like this," he said, demonstrating, "and feel for that little lever. Push it to the right."

I did as he said and I listened dutifully as he showed me how to check the oil level, and add to it if need be, how to fill the windshield fluid, and how to add water to the radiator. I didn't point out that if anything as catastrophic as a leaky radiator was to befall us, it would be easier to leave the truck at any gas station and lift a new one. Abandoned vehicles sat on every corner. If he needed to say all this in order to feel better, then so be it.

"At least you can stay on the highways pretty much the whole way."

"Assuming they are clear and not washed out," I said.

He slammed the hood shut and stood there for a long time. "I hate this." He muttered. They were fiercely strong words, coming from this man. I longed to reach out and touch him. I ached for it. I pined to be held in his arms with his scruffy chin pressed against the top of my head.

"Me too," I said.

He sighed deeply. "Well, you better go get Thelma and Louise, then."

"Well, geez! I certainly hope things end up better for us than they did for them!"

"Not funny, Fitzgerald."

"You brought it up!"

He gave me the skunk eye but I heard him snickering under his breath when he walked away.

I popped my head inside to let the other two women know that we were ready and they emerged from opposite ends of the building. Susan had a cooler and a sack full of food and drinks and Freyja was wearing her feather cloak and had a sword strapped around her hips. Dark black Ray-bans covered her eyes.

"Nice look. Subtle."

She beamed. "Sometimes all you need is the right accessories."

I hated that I was going on this trip. I hated that I was leaving my family. I hated most of all that I was going to have to come face-to-face with the very representation of evil on earth. In fact, I hated it all so much that I couldn't allow myself to look directly at that thought or I was sure all of my resolve would crumble to dust. I'd unload the truck and invite my little community to engage in an all-night euchre tournament.

For all that, I found myself actually looking forward to spending a few days in the car with these two women.

We went outside and they climbed in, Susan driving and Freyja in the middle.

Ike and Donovan were standing with Michael. I joined them. "I love you guys." Tears escaped from my eyes. My God, was there no end to the crying? How was it possible I hadn't dehydrated in the past few months? "I'll be back before you notice I'm gone."

"Be careful, Mom," Donovan said.

I searched his eyes. "Got any further intel for me, buddy?"

He shook his head. "No. I just want you to be careful."

"You too," I said.

I longed to kiss them. Was that so much to ask for, considering all I was doing? The ability to kiss my family? Best not to travel any further on that particular train of thought. "I promise I will be," I said.

Ike handed me his favorite book, the one where Sammy the Seal gets to go to school for a day. "In case you get bored in the car."

I took it, and pressed it against my heart. "Thanks little man. I'll read it out loud so the other ladies can enjoy it too."

"That's a good idea!" he said.

"Be right back," I told Michael.

"You better be," he answered.

I walked to the waiting truck, lifted myself up into the passenger's seat, and we began our trek to meet the new king.

We'd heard that the interstates were blocked by accident or design, so we stuck to the old US highway system, traveling through towns and cities and rural America... or whatever it was called now. We could go for a hundred miles without seeing a single sign of life, then we'd come to a town lively with activity. Often we'd stop in those places to trade news and resources. Everyone had heard of the new king. One place would be eager for him to come to their outpost and restore "civilization." The next would be ready to go to war against him.

Somehow, my brief time on the TV news had made me famous. They all knew the Prophetess. Even with my face covered and minus the impressive angel (though, there was Freyja—a memorable creature to be sure!) I was identified almost immediately. I sensed the recognition had something to do with the entourage of others that traveled alongside me in the spirit realm. Humans couldn't see them but, with the veil so thin now as to be all but non-existent, there was a sense that they were there. The Power never left me. The words that came were always the same: Praise the Creator without end, not the created. Love the created. Know that it is special. Care for your neighbor. Respect your own life, as it is given to you as a gift.

It was not a new message, but few seemed to truly understand.

Some places were hostile. There were villages ruled by vampires and lorded over by demons. We came to one town where apathy reigned so completely that not one soul even acknowledged our presence. I shivered. People had joked about the "zombie apocalypse." This town was experiencing it.

The changes as we neared Kansas City were subtle at first. There were fewer vacant homes, fewer abandoned vehicles. Traffic increased and there began to be a wider variety of vehicles. Then we crested a hill and I saw a red traffic light. The electricity was on. We were in the capital city of the demon king.

We wound our way through the surface streets to the forest of tall buildings that made up the downtown area. If you didn't look too closely you'd never know that anything was different in this place than it had been two years earlier. But a closer look showed fanged creatures with animal claws in military uniforms, patrolling the streets. People appeared healthy, and moved with purpose, but there was a strange hush. There was little conversation, and even less laughter. Though there were plenty of young men and women, I didn't see a single child anywhere.

We parallel parked on the city street and we all got out of the truck and stretched. The impressive structure of the Kansas City Power and Light Company building dominated the other side of the road. The front door opened, and I knew that the being coming out of the building was coming for me. My arrival here was no surprise.

"Get in the truck," I said, acting on instinct alone. "You need to go, right now."

Susan and Freyja didn't hesitate. They understood that it was not me but the Power within me that spoke now.