It was a strange predicament for me to be in especially considering how Brooke usually related to me. She came asking for help and all the usual rancour between us seemed to dissolve in that instant.
Yes, there was still dissonance and distance―what else could there be after those angry years of staying apart from me? But I was not the type to bear a grudge and had no intention of being caught between two beautiful women.
The way I saw it, Angelica was my assignment, given to me by Ben Church. Sure, we had something years ago in the past, but she and I had grown up since then.
And truth be told, as far as I was concerned, the jury was out as to her psychic abilities. As for Brooke Henderson, being caught in a storm, human or natural, was hardly the basis on which to build a reconciliation.
So, here I was drinking coffee with Brooke and trying to calm her fears when my own anxiety was off the radar.
"So what exactly are you concerned about?" I asked, half-hoping it would be an irrational uneasiness like mine and nothing to seriously worry about―but I should have realized Brooke was more grounded and practical than I.
"I'm hearing reports on the wire services of some giant plasma flare on the sun and rolling blackouts throughout China, India and most of the Middle East."
"That reminds me of a solar storm that took place in 1989," I told her, "I was only seven years old at the time and I thought it was weird that the sun brought darkness."
My words had an immediate impact upon her―she began to tremble and turn pale.
"You must be chilled from being caught in the rain," I said, concerned by her sudden wild appearance. I grabbed a throw cover from the couch and draped it over her and lit a fire in the fireplace.
"I'm not sure this is simply a case of simply feeling chilled, Zach. It's more complicated than that."
"Well, let's make sure you're warm first and then we'll consider other causes." I topped up her mug with fresh hot coffee.
I had a bad feeling I couldn't shake and the storm outside wasn't helping. It was only four in the afternoon but so dark I had the lamps on.
I was watching Brooke 's growing agitation. "You seem really spooked―are you sure there's not something else bothering you?"
"I think it was the way you described the sun bringing darkness. After my parents died in a car crash I was raised by my aunt who was an ultra-devout Catholic. She was constantly talking about the end times and a great spiritual blackout that would fall over the land and only holy candles would be able to pierce the darkness."
"That must have been frightening," I consoled her. "How old were you at the time?"
"Twelve, I think―I wasn't yet in high school. To this day I can't go into a church without feeling suffocated and filled with panic."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Brooke."
She shivered as she remembered, "Well, my aunt died when I was sixteen, but the panic attacks associated with church still continued."
I shook my head sadly. "The evil men do lives after them―the good is often interred with their bones."
"Is that Shakespeare?" she asked.
I nodded. "It's a line from Julius Caesar."
Ironically, at that moment, the lights flickered and failed and we were plunged into darkness.
