This is it, Johnny. It's just you and the most powerful beings that Heaven ever inflicted on the world of flesh. This is what you live for.
Johnny showed Donald and Dahlia into his living room, where Sarah was sitting on the couch. Donald called to her, but she didn't respond at all, just kept looking ahead.
"You kidnapped her," said Dahlia.
"Um yeah," said Johnny.
"What's wrong with her?" asked Donald, keeping a cautious distance from her. Dahlia must have told him how dangerous he was.
"Drugged," he answered. "Hypnotized. You name it."
"Did you hurt her?" asked Donald, a considerable anger rising in his voice.
"No," said Johnny. At least, not on purpose.
Donald walked sideways over to Sarah. Johnny could not help but be amused by this, but he suppressed a smile.
"When is she going to snap out of this?" asked Donald, kneeling by her side.
"We're taking her back," said Dahlia.
"I can't stop you."
"Of course you can," she replied.
"Don't underestimate yourself. I'd sooner bet on a dust mite stopping a rhinoceros."
"So we can just take her, then?" asked Dahlia.
"Can she travel?" asked Donald.
"Well, I suppose you could drag her along."
"All right," said Donald, still angry, "how long is she going to be like this? Snap her out of it."
"Do you realize whom you're saying no to?" asked Dahlia.
"I'm not saying no," said Johnny. "Prophecy is."
"Again you evade responsibility," said Dahlia, half-shouting. "You are saying no. You!"
"It's quite simple, Dahlia. Who you gonna work for? You're going to work for thug number one. You work for anyone else and you get beat. So I work for prophecy. Because prophecy happens. Powerful as this guy is, he has not yet stepped into his power. Like the Jesus before him, he will step into his moment of power. But before that he will doubt. He will question. He will cry at Gethsemane. He will be beaten and betrayed."
"You're wrong," said Dahlia, poking him with her finger. Was he imagining this, or did the touch burn him? "You have misread prophecy. For Christ has returned in glory and in power right now. His sacrifice is made. His covenant is fulfilled."
"No, Dahlia. It's like your book. You got to write it again. It's not waiting for you in some attic. And even if it was, it wouldn't be sufficient. Catherine is your birthright, but you must become Catherine. When you do, everything will fall before your knowledge. Donald, too, must become what he is. Otherwise, you would not be hesitating right now. Sarah would be yours."
"Touch her," said Dahlia. Donald stroked Sarah's hair and they all looked expectantly at her face.
"Donald," she said, without turning her head.
"You're awake! Come with us."
"I don't know where I am."
"Some... man's apartment. It doesn't matter. We're taking you home."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes you are," said Donald. Was that fear in his voice?
"Well, I guess I am, in this conversation, if you say so. But this is just a memory for me. I don't go anywhere in this memory."
"I'll carry you."
"But you can't touch me here, where I am now. I'm outside all of this."
"I want to reach you."
"Donald, I want you to know that I love you in a way that reaches even here, outside of the memories... and the moments. That must mean you're a lifetime love. Or maybe it means you really are Jesus."
"If only I could touch you," said Donald.
"Then you would heal me. I know you would." And with that Sarah's head dropped back and she stared at the ceiling. Donald turned to Johnny.
"Where is she?"
Of course, Johnny didn't know where she was. All he knew was that he'd won. He shrugged his shoulders.
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