snapped toward her.
"Got anything?" she asked, glancing at J.L. and then Krissy.
"I've been searching for news anomalies and got plenty of really sick shit coming back at me, D," Krissy said in a horrified whisper. "Two fourteen-year-old kids on the same day in Pennsylvania tried a Columbine-type wipeout in their high schools-one of the kid's mothers actually bought him the assault rifle. Look, this comes on the heels of the Virginia Tech massacre. What mother in her right mind buys that for her kid, ya know? Another one . . . six hillbillies in West Virginia hold a woman hostage, abusing her, making her eat dog and rat feces. Who does that kind of twisted crap unless they're possessed?"
"Okay, okay, I've heard enough," Damali said quietly, her gaze leaving the tube, but her hand resting on Krissy's shoulder for support. "I get the picture. Take a break; this will jack up your head."
"These arereal news reports," Krissy said, her voice holding repressed horror as her gaze became distant. "That's just one small segment of the eastern part of this nation . . . I went to Africa-"
"Baby, that's enough. Take a break," J.L. said quietly and firmly.
"Good idea, Kris," Damali said, trying to get the horrified young Guardian to stand and leave her post.
But Krissy shook her head, immobilized by what she'd witnessed. "I went all over Europe and the Middle East news sites, searching, but the most insane, senseless acts of violence were committed by young people right here where there's supposedly no war. Where there's abundance. The things that are happening," she added in a near whisper, "they're an abomination. I went all over and . . . and . . . it's all demonic. But somehow in the midst of the worldwide insanity you can make sense of that in a war-torn land-a lot of it is old news, the same craziness just continuing, not that it makes it any less chilling. Not that it makes me okay with it, or that it means those people's lives aren't as valuable or the suffering isn't worthy of worldwide outcry. But the stuff that's making me about to puke is happening in quiet suburban communities or in the cities where there's not supposed to be droughts and wars and land mines. I don't understand."
Damali held Krissy by the shoulders as J.L. turned around and then stood. The sound of his wife's panicked whisper drew him near and Damali squatted down to make Krissy's eyes meet hers.
"Itis demonic, but that's why we've gotta find the source and find it fast. We cannot give up. If we do, this whole thing implodes, and everybody that's been infected will act on whatever violent, demonic messages are being thrust into their minds."
"Wereally are at the end of days, aren't we? It's just really sinkingin, even after everything else I've seen." Krissy's pained gaze sought Damali's for comfort and understanding and then went to J.L.'s. "A twenty-year-old cop shot four teenagers for teasing him . . . for just calling him a name.Killed them at a pizza party in their house. They were about to graduate high school-just like me and Bobby would have a couple of years back-and they died screaming and then he killed himself. Four college kids were shot execution-style in Newark . . . they were just eating cheese steaks and hanging in a yard. It's not getting better, Damali-not even after all the demons we've been killing and killing and killing. The darkside is winning. The presence is going for the young people. I've separated out continuing tragedies from really new, bizarre incidents and spikes in new areas we haven't seen major patterns in. I don't know what to do-I feel so helpless."
"The future," Damali said, looking at J.L. and hugging Krissy. "Write me a program, dude. We went after Hell's future, the Antichrist, so they're retaliating by going after the kids-but with all the other madness that was already swirling around in the atmosphere, they banked on us never figuring out what they were targeting." She stroked Krissy's back as her Guardian sister silently wept from information trauma. "Keep the faith; it ain't over till it's over."
J.L. nodded. "Talk to me, D-I got you. What kind of program, though? What part of this do you want me to focus on?" He caressed his wife's hair and kissed the crown of her head. "C'mon, baby . . . whydon't you help your mom with the divinations. Enough for a