Meet Me at World's End (Superpowers Versus the Apocalypse Chronicles Book 1)

Prologue

Liam West awoke from his nightmare drenched in cold sweat. He frantically reached to the other side of the bed to find his wife.

Cold. Empty.

As he regained clarity from the fog of sleep, he was also reminded that he was living that nightmare.

The nightmare always started the same way: a replay of that last morning when he’d woken up with his wife sleeping by his side. He was getting up to get ready for work when he felt a tugging on his hand. His wife had always been a light sleeper, so she would wake up at the same time he did, but she’d never taken the initiative to make physical contact before. He had turned around to face her. She had been having trouble starting the conversation—something she had always struggled with. He had sat back on the bed, took her hands in his, and patiently waited. He’d known it had to be something important.

Happy birthday, Liam.

A smile had bloomed on his face. It was just another day to him—completely forgotten about, actually—but he’d been glad she remembered.

I…I tried to tell you last night, but… After a long pause, she had continued. And I don’t know if today is a good day to tell you because I don’t know how you feel on the subject.

What is it, Angel?

She had opened her mouth and closed it again twice before she reached over to the nightstand drawer, pulled something out, and showed it to him. It was a white plastic stick with two pink stripes on it. He hadn’t known what he was looking at to begin with, but then suddenly remembered seeing something like it in commercials from time to time. It was one of those pregnancy test kits. He hadn’t known what two pink stripes meant, but if she was showing it to him, it could only mean one thing: she was pregnant. They were having a baby.

He didn’t know how long he had sat frozen, but when he came to again, his chest was inflated with joy. He’d reached for her face and pressed his forehead against hers.

Angel… Then it was his turn to have trouble expressing himself.

Words wouldn’t have cut it, anyway. The woman he loved was pregnant with his baby. He had expressed his joy in a long, deep kiss that made them both run out of breath by the time he broke it. He’d put a hand on her flat abdomen as he reveled in the feeling of happiness overflowing from every pore. Then it had hit him like a brick.

Last night…

Are you feeling all right?

She’d nodded.

At times like these, he wished she wasn’t so afraid of him. They had been married for nearly four years, and she still had not realized how much he loved her. But then again, he couldn’t blame her; he knew she was an orphan, growing up under someone else’s roof. All of the psychiatrists he’d consulted told him the same thing: that she was lacking a sense of security in everything around her and that trusting someone fully was against all of her instincts.

His thumb had gently brushed the burn scar on the side of her face. She’d immediately turned away to hide it from view. It was another source of her insecurity.

He had cupped her face once again and made her lock in his gaze. Angel, we’re going to be parents! He’d pecked a kiss on her soft lips. I’m going to be a dad!

The beautiful moment that morning would always give way to a recurring nightmare. He had been in a meeting when he received the call.

Liam…it’s your wife.

He had dropped everything he was doing, raced to the airport, and took the first flight back. He’d sped to the hospital where his wife was admitted. He couldn’t recall how many traffic lights he ran, only that when he got to the emergency room, they’d told him his wife had passed away. He hadn’t believed it for a moment, thought they’d made a huge mistake, thought perhaps he’d gone to the wrong hospital or it was just someone with the same name as his wife. It had been when they showed him her cold, lifeless body on a steel table that reality finally caught up with him. It was real. It was happening. There was no rewind button to undo any of it.

That morning when she had walked him out the door, she was still alive and they were going to have a baby. He’d reached for her face, which had been horribly disfigured by dozens of cuts. Cold. He could still remember the warm goodbye kiss on his lips from that morning. His gaze had gone to the old burn scar on the side of her face, to the necklace she often wore, to the wedding band on her finger, and then at last to her abdomen where their baby…

Liam grabbed the lamp on the nightstand and smashed it against the wall in a fit of rage. At this part of his nightmare, he often broke down and cried. There were times he just stood there staring at her corpse until he woke. And then there were times when there was a gun in his hand and he’d pulled the trigger on himself.

Afterward, he would wake in a cold sweat, frantically searching for her on the other side of the bed, hoping to find her warm body so it would all just be a nightmare. All of it.

Sometimes he would sit there quietly until morning light shone through the windows. But sometimes when it got too unbearable, he would leave his room and go down to the basement. This night was one of those nights.

The sound of the airtight door creaked open, amplified by the silence of the night. Liam walked into the brightly lit basement and was greeted by a man and a woman dressed in black suits. They closed the door behind him as he entered. He then took a seat in the only chair in the room. The deep blue of his eyes lightened several shades when he laid eyes on the woman cowering against the wall in front of him. There was a cruel expression on his face, one so uncharacteristic that it made him look like a completely different person.

The woman cowering against the wall didn’t look like herself either. Once considered a beauty, she was now beyond recognition. Her prized, beautiful hair was scattered all over the floor. Every inch of her body was covered in bloody bandages. Her once-beautiful face was layered with fresh cuts over old ones. She looked barely human anymore. And there were mirrors all around her, constantly reminding her of what she had become.

The moment he walked into the room, he could see she was visibly terrified of him—so terrified that she tried to claw at the wall with her shortened fingers in an attempt to get farther away from him, staining the mirrored wall with blood in the process.

A twisted satisfaction laced his cruel expression. There were many nights just like this when he would come down here to watch her suffer. He once decided that death would be too quick and merciful no matter how tempting it was to choke the last breath from her lungs and watch her die. On the contrary, he wanted her to live as long as modern medicine could keep her alive, and he wanted her to suffer every moment of it. He wanted to take away everything from her just as she had done to him.

Another sleepless night.

Chapter 1

Iwas burning up with fever. It felt so hot that I thought I might turn to ash at any moment. Cry, I repeatedly said to myself. Cry and everything will be fine. It was easier said than done, especially when I could not recall anything that would make me cry. My memory was completely blank. I woke up a month ago with a textbook case of amnesia as a result of a car accident, I was told. But amnesia wasn’t the only thing I awoke to.

Since the rain turned crimson four months ago, I had developed a strange ability, as had many other people. When I opened my eyes for the first time after the accident, I could see colors I had never seen before—colors that I could not even fathom if I’d lived to be a million. I would imagine it must be something similar to a colorblind person seeing colors for the first time, only I had never been colorblind. These colors, these auras, to be more accurate, were present everywhere: on objects, on people, even in the soil and the sky itself. Lately, I could even feel the auras, like an additional sense to my existing five.

At first, I didn’t know what they were. I thought they were just colors people couldn’t see. But after a month of observation, I could say with confidence that the auras were like leaking information. I discovered that every single person had their own layers of auras—their own unique signature of who they were. No two were alike. At the very least, I hadn’t encountered two that were alike. I would like to believe it was like looking at people’s very souls.

But this new ability has its drawbacks. Every few days, I come down with a high fever that threatens to boil my insides, and the worst part is the piercing pain and pressure in my eyeballs. The only way to fend off the fever is to cry. But I cannot cry on cue. Didn’t have any sad memories to aid me. When the uncomfortableness reaches an excruciating level, my body will start crying on its own. Every time, I cry these large droplets of tears that accumulate and solidify into a gem after they dry.

This time, the gem I cried was larger than usual.

I stared at the marble-sized gem in my hand. I had asked other people what color it was, and the answers were always the same: clear. But to me, the gem looked like a swirling liquid of all the colors of the auras. I didn’t know what they were but thought they were beautiful, so I kept them all in a small glass jar inside my drawer. The strangest thing about these gems was that after I closed the lid on the jar, the gems would slowly return to liquid form. When I opened the lid, they would slowly solidify again.

I couldn’t tell anybody about my ability. I didn’t think it was wise. I saw on TV that experts predicted three out of a hundred people had developed supernatural powers. A small three percent, but it was a large number when scaled to the Earth’s population of seven and a half billion. Widespread discrimination and paranoia had turned society upside-down since the first wave of people started developing superpowers. It was all TV journalists ever talked about these days. The government had pinpointed the most probable cause to be the crimson rainfall and warned the public to avoid exposure to the rainwater. Scientists around the globe were debating evolution vs. mutation while ordinary people were protesting about discrimination, rights, and public safety.

Many people weren’t afraid to show off their new abilities. Just the other day, I saw people on TV who could materialize water, fire, and ice projectiles from thin air. On another channel, people stood in the rain on purpose in the hope that they would develop extraordinary abilities, because these days, anything was better than ordinary. Over two hundred million people roaming the streets with a wide array of superpowers was a huge call for change in society’s infrastructure.

But they were all missing the bigger picture.

I stared up at the ominous sky through the glass window. No one seemed to notice it. The sky probably looked like it always had to them, but it was reddening by the day. Even the soil had reddened from the frequent crimson rainfall. I had a feeling these were signs of things to come. Terrible things.

Someone was approaching my room. Judging from the aura, it was Lara.

I hid the jar of gems in my drawer and turned my gaze toward the bedroom door for about half a minute before Lara kicked it wide open.

Lara strode in and loomed over me. I just got off the phone with the bank, and they told me of your recent shopping spree. How the fuck can you possibly spend over five million dollars in a month?!

Declan said that account is mine, I calmly replied.

Declan thought that amount would last you quite a while.

Then he’s wrong. I found the subject of the conversation much too dull. Either way, it has nothing to do with you.

When I said the last part, I could see her expression turn ugly. It was the truth, and the truth seemed to be impaling her. Lara had been managing Declan’s estate for years, and I’d heard he let her take liberties with those accounts too. I surmised that could be the reason she must have forgotten all of it wasn’t hers. That reminder was like a slap in the face.

Listen here, you spoiled rich bitch! The only reason I haven’t slit your throat where you stand is because of Declan. But talk to me like that again and there’s no guarantee. We didn’t risk our lives on every job just so a spoiled bitch with no sense of money like you can waste it on a few more additions to your closet! Declan and I have something that you could never hope to—

My gaze panned from the angry woman to Declan walking into the room. Lara noticed I was no longer paying attention to her, so she sharply turned around. Their eyes met for a brief second, and then Lara lowered her eyes and backed down.

Get out, Lara, Declan said.

Declan, do you really think you can keep up with her lifestyle? she protested.

Out. This time, an order.

Lara inhaled deeply, shot a glare my way, and headed for the door.

Peace was returned to the room again. I waited for him to pose the question. If I were in his place, I would.

You don’t look so well, he began.

I was a little thrown off because I’d really thought he would ask about the money first. Must be the morning sickness.

There it was again: the look of contempt in his eyes when his gaze fell on my slightly-showing pregnant belly. It appeared very briefly, but I caught it. Declan hated this baby, I had no doubt about it. Though it didn’t make sense, because it was supposed to be his, or so he’d said. Of course, there was also the possibility that I had an affair with another man before my memory loss and he didn’t want to bring that to light for reasons of pride or something like that.

I didn’t think I was the type to have an affair, but his attitude toward this baby was making me question my character. It would make a lot more sense that way.

I felt the baby moving this morning, I said, a last test.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. Most people wouldn’t even be able to make what you spent this month, he said, ignoring the conversation about the baby completely.

A disparaging smile appeared on my face. I didn’t know if I was mocking him or myself. What is it exactly that you do, Declan? He wasn’t the only one who could change the subject.

I’m a businessman. I told you that.

Risking your life on every job?

Occupational hazard.

Hmm. Spoiled rich bitch…keeping up with my lifestyle… I locked gazes with him. I thought you said we grew up in the orphanage together. You said we came from nothing. Why do you suppose Lara said those things?

A moment of silence came between us. It was actually a good thing he didn’t underestimate my intelligence by feeding me more lies. I’d said my piece, now it was time to let go—I didn’t want to unravel this web just yet. There were four other people living in this high-rise penthouse, including Lara, from the same orphanage where Declan grew up. They stayed together like a pack of wolves, and to have gotten here from literally nothing must have taken considerable measures. I didn’t want to dig too deep into it.

Aren’t you going to ask me what I bought with five million?

My wife has expensive taste. It’s a good thing I’m not a poor man.

If he’d asked, I would have told him the truth. I used the money to buy food and supplies, and lots of it. If he’d asked why, I would have told him about the red sky.

Declan, something terrible is going to happen, I started.

He stared at me for a moment, then asked, You had a premonition?

Well, no. I don’t have that kind of ability. I just have a feeling like something terrible is going to happen. When I look up at the sky, all I can see is a crimson blanket stretching as far as the eye can see. There’s a suffocating stench of death in the air. Every instinct in my body is telling me something terrible is going to happen.

I couldn’t keep it in, after all. If there was anyone I wanted to be prepared for what was to come, it would be Declan.

When did you start having these…feelings?

You must think I’ve lost it.

No, I don’t, Sienna. The world around us is changing. I have no reason not to believe you. Since when did you start sensing this?

It’s always been there since I woke up from the accident, but the sense of urgency began two weeks ago.

Do you have any idea what it will be?

I shook my head. Not a clue.

He turned for the door, but I called him back. There was something equally important I needed to discuss with him.

I’m thinking perhaps I could visit the country house this weekend.

Country house?

The country house at my vineyard. The one in the photos you showed me.

His lips thinned.

Another thing about Declan: he said our fondest time was at the vineyard, but something always came up whenever I asked him to take me there for a visit.

More secrets, I supposed.

There were only two things I was sure of. One: I was four months pregnant, and two: I knew Declan before the car accident wiped my memories. He showed me photos of us at the vineyard, but nothing before that. He said all of the other photos, including the wedding albums, were lost in a fire. I couldn’t be sure of anything else, especially whether this baby was even Declan’s or we were married like he’d claimed.

Before he could come up with another one of his excuses, I took his hands in mine. I thought since you described it so beautifully that perhaps if I go there, see the place for myself, then maybe I could remember a little more about us. I really needed to convince him to take me there.

When he first told me about this vineyard, I was thinking about selling it to get more funds to buy supplies, but then I changed my mind. The vineyard was situated far from the city, which made it ideal to be used as storage. The trouble was, the delivery people called me and said they couldn’t make the delivery via trucks because the land was walled in. I didn’t have the key to the gate, couldn’t remember where it could be, couldn’t physically go there anyway, so I made a call to the vineyard. A man named John Jenson picked up, and he seemed to recognize my voice. He even called me by my first name. I asked him to accept the deliveries, and he told me no problem.

I could tell Declan was not quite persuaded yet.

Declan, you know I have doubts in my head. I can’t remember anything and, because of that, I can’t completely trust everything you’re telling me. I want us to work, I do, but I need to remember something. Anything. You spoke so fondly of the place… We were very happy there, weren’t we?

We were, he said. There was conviction in his eyes as he peered into mine. Strangely, I could tell this part wasn’t a lie.

They say every lie always had at least a grain of truth, but with all of these half-truths, what was I supposed to believe?

I need to remember that. Declan, I need to remember that.

His eyes grew contemplative. Then he said, I need to check my scheduling first.

But you’ll take me?

Finally, he nodded in agreement.

Early morning four days later as I was sleeping in my bed, Declan shook me awake. I was still hazy-eyed and disoriented when he pulled me out of bed.

Sienna, we need to leave the city. Now. The tone of his voice was so solemn, it shocked me wide awake. The first thing that came into my head was, Could this be it? What was this terrible thing that I’d been so afraid of? Was it a mega tsunami? A mega volcano? A meteor heading right for us?

As he was pulling me by the arm out of the bedroom, I pulled back. Wait! I need to grab my bag!

His brows winced in annoyance.

I ignored it and quickly grabbed my backpack from the closet that I’d prepared in advance. Inside was a change of clothes, a six-pack of water, a handgun, ammo, a flare gun, a lighter, first aid kits, a jar, a plastic-encased photo, and packs of dehydrated food. I’d been careful not to add too much weight so it wouldn’t slow me down. I put it on and followed closely behind Declan.

Lara and the other three men were waiting in the living room with