This Present Darkness

by Frank E. Peretti

  “AND YOU ARE doomed, Rafar!” Lucius screamed, dodging the lethal thrusts of Rafar’s sword. “Do you hear the battle outside? The Hosts of Heaven are everywhere!”

  “Treachery!” Rafar hissed. “You will pay for your treachery!”

  “Treachery!” some of the demons cried.

  “No, Lucius speaks the truth!” others shouted back.

  SANDY FORCED HERSELF to look into those evil yellow eyes and plead, “What’s—what’s happened to you, Madeline? Why have you changed?”

  Madeline only cackled and answered, “Do not believe what you see. What is evil? It is but an illusion. What is pain? It is but an illusion. What is fear? It is but an illusion.”

  “But you lied to me! You deceived me!”

  “I have never been other than I am. It is you who have deceived yourself.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I am going to set you free.”

  Just as Madeline spoke those words, Sandy’s arms suddenly dropped with such a ponderous weight that she almost fell to the ground.

  Chains! Links upon links of glistening, heavy chains hung around her wrists and her arms. Crooked hands were whipping them around her. The cold and bruising links slapped against her legs, her body, her neck. She could no longer struggle against them. She tried to scream, but her breath was gone.

  “Now you are free!” Madeline said gleefully.

  BRUMMEL STARTED SPEAKING for himself. “The authorities … the state attorney general … Justin Parker … the feds! They know everything!”

  “What?” some of the psychics cried, jumping out of their seats. They started to ask questions, to panic.

  Young tried to keep order, but he was failing.

  RAFAR DROPPED HIS hold on Langstrat so he could better handle this traitorous upstart.

  LANGSTRAT SNAPPED OUT of her trance and could feel the psychic energy in the room collapsing.

  “Get back in your seats, everyone!” she shouted. “We have not accomplished our purpose here!” She closed her eyes and called out, “Rafar, please return! Bring order!”

  BUT RAFAR WAS busy. Lucius was smaller, but he was very quick and very determined. The two swords flashed about the room like fireworks, burning and clanging. Lucius flitted about Rafar’s head like a pesky hornet, jabbing, swinging, and slashing. The whole room was filled with Rafar’s swirling wings and his chugging breath, and his big sword traced fiery red sheets through the air.

  “Traitor!” Rafar screamed. “I’ll cut you to pieces!”

  LANGSTRAT MOVED TOWARD Brummel with wild eyes. “Traitor! I’ll tear you apart!”

  “No,” Brummel muttered with widened eyes, his hand going to his side. “Not this time … no more!”

  Young shouted at them both, “Stop it! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

  THE DEMONS IN the room were dividing into camps.

  “Prince Lucius speaks the truth!” said some. “Rafar has led us to our doom!”

  “No, it is Lucius who is the enemy’s fool!”

  “You are the fools, but we will save ourselves!”

  More swords flashed into view.

  Rafar knew he was losing control.

  “Fools!” he roared. “This is a trick of the Enemy! He is trying to divide us!”

  It only took that one brief moment when Rafar’s eyes were on his quarreling demons and not on Lucius’s sword.

  IT ONLY TOOK that one moment of terror to push Brummel over the edge. He pointed his police revolver at the wild-eyed Langstrat.

  LUCIUS’S BLADE SANG through the air and slipped just under Rafar’s parrying sword. The tip ripped deeply through Rafar’s hide and opened his flank with a deep, gushing wound.

  LANGSTRAT MADE JUST one wrong move and the bullet thudded into her chest.

  IN THE CONFERENCE room they all heard the shot. Marshall was out in the hall in an instant.

  CHAPTER 41

  BERNICE LEAPED FROM her spot on the front steps. It was Eldon Strachan with Norm Mattily himself, and Justin Parker, and that had to be Al Lemley—and those three guys in their nice three-piece suits had to be FBI! Oh, and there was Harvey Cole with a stack of papers under his arm.

  She ran up to them, her black eyes wild with excitement. “Hello! You made it!”

  Norm Mattily’s eyes got big. “What’s happened? Are you all right?”

  Bernice had paid a lot for these bruises; she was going to use them. “No, no, I’ve been attacked! Please hurry inside! Something terrible is happening!”

  The VIPs ran into the building with serious business in their eyes and guns in their hands.

  TAL HAD SEEN enough. He shouted the order to Guilo, “Go in!” and then soared out of the building to signal for more troops.

  Smoke and red tar were pouring from Rafar’s side, but his rage spelled certain doom for the rebellious Lucius. The light of a thousand angels beamed in through the windows. They would be in the room in an instant, but that was all the time Rafar needed. He whipped his plank-sized sword in vicious circles over his head. He brought it down in blow after blow upon Lucius as the defiant demon’s little sword parried every blow with a loud clang and a shower of sparks.

  The roar of angels’ wings outside grew louder, louder. The floors and walls rumbled with the sound.

  Rafar let out a roar and brought the blade straight down. Lucius blocked the blow, but collapsed under the power of it. The blade ripped through the air in a flat circle and caught Lucius under the arm. The arm went spinning into space, and Lucius cried out. The blade came down again, passed straight through Lucius’s head, shoulders, torso. The air filled with boiling red smoke.

  Lucius was gone.

  “Kill the girl!” Rafar shouted to Madeline.

  Madeline drew out a horrible, crooked knife. She placed it gently in Sandy’s hand. “These chains are the chains of life; they are a prison of evil, of the lying mind, of illusion! Free your true self! Join me!”

  SHAWN HAD a knife ready. He placed it in the entranced Sandy’s hand.

  RAFAR STAGGERED THROUGH a wall just as the light of a million suns exploded into the room with a deafening thunder of wings and the warcries of the Heavenly Host.

  Many demons tried to flee, but were instantly disintegrated by slashing swords. The whole room was one huge, bombastic, brilliant blur. The roar of the wings drowned out every sound except the screams of falling spirits.

  KASEPH LEAPED FROM his chair and fell across the table. The regents and lawyers shied away and pressed against the wall. Some headed for the room’s other door.

  Hank, Susan, and Kevin watched from a safe distance. They knew what was happening.

  Kaseph’s face seemed numb with death and his mouth hung open as the most hideous scream came out of him.

  The Strongman was face-to-face with the General. His demons were gone, washed away by an overwhelming tide of angels that were still roaring through the room like an avalanche. The General’s sword moved faster than the ponderous Strongman could even anticipate. The Strongman fought back, screaming, slashing, swinging. The General just kept coming at him.

  MARSHALL WAS OUT in the hall, listening for any disturbance. He thought he heard a commotion from down the hall.

  SANDY STILL HELD that knife, but now Madeline was hesitating and looking around frantically. The chains still held Sandy tightly, an iron cocoon.

  Guilo could see the chains wrapped tightly around her, the horrible demonic bondage they had used to enslave her.

  “No more!” he shouted.

  He raised his sword high above his head and brought it down, trailing a wide ribbon of light. The tip passed through the many windings of those chains like a series of small explosions. The chains burst outward and away from her, writhing like severed snakes.

  Guilo’s big fist clamped onto the fleeing Madeline’s grisly neck. He jerked her backward, spun her around, and hacked her into vanishing particles.

  Sandy felt herself spinning, then rushing upward as if
she were a rocket in an elevator shaft. Sounds began to register on her ears. She could feel her physical body again. Light registered on her retinas. She opened her eyes. A knife fell from her hands.

  The room was in chaos. People were screaming, running back and forth, trying to calm each other down, fighting, arguing, trying to escape from the room; several men were wrestling Alf Brummel to the floor. There was a haze of blue smoke and a strong smell like fireworks.

  Professor Langstrat was lying on the floor, with several people huddled over her. There was blood!

  Someone grabbed her. Not again! She looked to see Shawn holding her arm. He was trying to comfort her, trying to keep her in her chair.

  The monster! The deceiver! The liar!

  “Let me go!” she screamed at him, but he wouldn’t let go.

  She hit him in the face, then pulled away from him; she leaped to her feet and ran for the door, bumping into several people and stepping on some others. He went after her, calling her name.

  She burst through the door and stumbled out into the hall. From somewhere down the hall she heard a familiar voice shouting her name. She screamed and ran for that voice.

  Shawn went after Sandy. He had to contain this woman before all control was lost.

  What! Before him, filling the entire hallway with fiery wings, stood the most frightening being he had ever seen, holding a terrible flaming sword right at his heart. Shawn braked to a stop, his shoes skidding on the floor.

  Marshall Hogan appeared suddenly, running right through that being. A huge fist slammed into Shawn’s jaw, and the whole matter was settled.

  “C’mon, Sandy,” Marshall said, “we’ll take the stairs!”

  RAFAR, SOMEWHERE INSIDE that shaking, besieged building, knew he had to get out. He tried to get his wings to stir. They only quivered. He had to build up the strength. He could not be defeated in the presence of these petty warriors; he would not go to the abyss!

  He sank to one knee, his hand holding his oozing side, and let his rage grow inside him. Tal! This was all Tal’s doing! No, clever captain, you’ll not gain your victory this way!

  The yellow eyes burned with new fire. He tried again. This time his wings roused themselves and went into a blurred rushing. Rafar gripped his sword tightly and turned his eyes skyward. The wings surged with power and began to lift him up through the building, faster and faster, until he soared up through the roof and into the open air … and found himself face to face with the very captain he had taunted and challenged time and again.

  All around them the battle raged; demons—and Rafar’s great victory—fell like smoking, burning rain from the sky. But for one very short moment of awe and mutual horror, Tal and Rafar remained frozen.

  They had met at last! And each could not help but be numbed by the memories he had of the other. Neither remembered the other looking so fierce.

  And neither could be entirely sure of winning this contest.

  Rafar shot sideways, and Tal braced himself for a blow, but—Rafar was fleeing! He dashed away across the sky like a bleeding bird, trailing a stream of ooze and vapor.

  Tal went after him, wings rushing, dashing this way and that through falling demons and charging angels, looking far ahead through the wild flurry of the battle clashing and thundering all around. There! He spotted the demon warlord dipping down toward the town. He would be hard to find in that maze of buildings, streets, and alleys. Tal quickened his speed and closed the distance. Rafar must have seen him coming up from behind; the evil prince shot ahead with a surprising burst of speed and then dropped suddenly and sharply toward an office building.

  Tal saw him disappear through the roof of that building and dove after him. The black tar roof came at him, growing in an instant from the size of a postage stamp to more than the eye could see. Tal plunged through it.

  Roof, room, floor, room, then pull up, then down a hall, through a wall, up again, turn back, follow that smoke, through an office, follow up a wall, dip through a floor, rush along, the passing walls slap, slap, slapping the eyes and rushing past like speeding freight cars.

  A smoking black missile followed by a flaming comet roared down the hall, down through several floors, back up again, right through the office and over all the desks, up through the ceiling panels, up through the roof and out into the open sky again.

  Rafar was soaring, dashing, looping, zigzagging through falling demons, doubling back, ducking down side streets, but Tal stayed right on his tail and retraced his every turn perfectly.

  How much longer could that bleeding demon keep this up?

  THE OTHER DOOR of the conference room burst open, and the body of Alexander Kaseph rolled across the hallway floor. He was retching and screaming.

  THE GENERAL SWUNG his sword at the Strongman again and again, weakening him, cutting him more and more frequently as the Strongman continued to lose his power.

  “You will not defeat me!” the Strongman still boasted, as did Kaseph, but the boast was empty and futile. The Strongman was gushing red vapor and tar like a wretched and broken sieve. His eyes were full of evil and hate and he slashed with his big sword, but the prayers …! The prayers could be felt everywhere, and the General could not be defeated.

  BERNICE HAD HER group of vindicators gathered in the lobby downstairs, and she was trying to figure out where to start explaining everything when Marshall and Sandy burst out of the stairway door.

  “Get yourselves upstairs!” Marshall hollered, holding his weeping daughter. “Someone’s been shot!”

  Lemley’s feds went right into action. “Call the police! We’ll cordon off the building!”

  Bernice remarked, “I see some cops outside there …”

  The police had come purely in response to a call about all these religious fanatics assembled on the campus. They were trying to break up the gathering when Norm Mattily and one federal agent ran out to them, identified themselves, and ordered them to close off the building.

  Brummel’s men were no fools. They obeyed.

  RAFAR DARTED AND weaved all over the sky, still trailing a stream of red smoke from his wound. With that telltale marker it was easy to follow him, and Tal kept up the chase unrelentingly. Rafar sped toward a very large warehouse several blocks away.

  He shot through the outside wall at about the third floor, and Tal dove into the building after him. This floor was open, with no places to hide; Rafar dove immediately to a lower floor, and Tal followed that trail of smoke. The gray, concrete floors came up at them.

  Tal came out on the first floor and could see the smoke trail veering off sideways and corkscrewing through the distant wall. He shot after it. The wall slapped around him as he passed through.

  Impaled!

  A burning edge cut through his side! He spun and spun from the impact and the sword went flying from his hand. He tumbled to the floor, doubled up with pain.

  There stood Rafar, bent and wounded, his back against the wall Tal had just come through. He had been waiting in ambush. The tip of his ugly sword was still draped with part of Tal’s tunic.

  No time to think! No time to feel pain! Tal dove for his fallen sword.

  Crash! Rafar’s sword came down with a shower of sparks. Tal rolled and fluttered out of the way. The big red sword ripped through the air again, and the keen edge whistled just over Tal’s head. Tal clapped his wings and jerked sideways several feet.

  Whoosh! That horrible sword sliced the air with brilliant red streaks. Rafar’s eyes turned from yellow to red, his mouth frothed with putrid foam.

  The huge wings roared, and Rafar came at Tal like a pouncing cat. His powerful arm raised that blade to strike again.

  Tal lurched forward and ducked under Rafar’s raised arm, his head butting into Rafar’s chest. The sulfur exploded from those huge lungs as Tal spun around Rafar’s body and beyond the tip of that red blade as it slashed through the air.

  This was what Tal needed: he was now between Rafar and his fallen sword. He dove at it, gra
bbed it, and turned.

  Clang! The blade of hell came down upon Tal’s sword with a flash of fire. They faced each other, swords held ready. Rafar was grinning.

  “So now, Captain of the Host, we are alone together, and evenly matched. I am opened, and you are opened. Shall we assail each other for another twenty-three days? We will be finished long before that, eh?”

  Tal said nothing. This was Rafar’s way; cutting words were part of his strategy.

  The swords met again, and again. An envelope of darkness began to fill the room: Rafar’s creeping, growing evil.

  “Is the light fading?” Rafar sneered. “Perhaps it is your strength we now see ebbing away!”

  Saints of God, where are your prayers?

  Another blow! Tal’s shoulder. He returned with a swipe that caught Rafar under the ribs. The air was filling with darkness, with red vapor and smoke.

  Several more clashes of the fiery blades … ripping hides, tearing garments, more darkness.

  Saints! Pray! PRAY!

  WHEN THE POLICE reached the third floor, they thought at first that Kaseph was the gunshot victim. They found out differently when this wild animal threw them off as if they weighed nothing.

  “You cannot defeat me!” he screamed.

  THE GENERAL SLASHED at the Strongman again, and the Strongman screamed again. The swords clashed and sang and flashed with fire.

  “You cannot defeat me!”