by Tim LaHaye
“No, I’ve been reading.”
“It’s Shane Barrington. He was killed in an explosion in his penthouse. I was down in the cafeteria getting some coffee when the announcement came over the evening news. The firefighters are still there trying to put out the flames. No one is sure how it happened. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Thank you, Shari. Something very dark and evil is going on. You watch yourself.”
“I will. The police still have a protective watch on me. One officer is here in the hospital with me. During the night they have a police car stationed in front of my house. I’m still scared.”
“I know, Shari. I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I know it’s all because of me. It seems so little, but I’ll be praying for you and Paul. You go home and try to get some rest. Thanks for giving me a call about Barrington. I think I’ll talk to Levi about what’s going on.”
FORTY-SEVEN
On the path from Ashdod, 1083 B.C.
PAINFUL ONLY SLIGHTLY describes the ten-mile journey from Ashdod near the great sea called the Mediterranean. The inland march to Gath and the great village of giants was torture, to say the least. The priests from the Temple of Dagon could not ride horses or camels because of their tumors. They had to walk, and walking caused the tumors of some to bleed. Every face wore a look of misery.
Kadmiel spoke to the other priests. “I wish we had never seen the Israelite Ark of the Covenant. We can only hope when it is safely in another town that the plague will be removed from Ashdod.”
The other priests nodded in agreement and let fly some muffled curses.
The guard in the watchtower on the wall of Gath saw the strangers nearing
the city. They were leading a team of oxen pulling something on a cart. “There is a group of people approaching from northwest toward the city!
It looks like they are coming from the direction of Ashdod,” called the guard
to the captain below in the courtyard. “How many do you see?” “I count fourteen. They are moving very slowly.” “Can you tell if they are friendly, or do they look like enemies?” “They are carrying the banner of our people. They are too far away to tell for sure, but it looks like they are wearing the robes of the priests of Dagon.”
“Keep your eye on them,” called the captain.
It took another two hours before the priests from Ashdod reached the gates of Gath. They were allowed to enter and meet with the elders of the city. Kadmiel had heard there were giant Philistines in Gath but he couldn’t get over how large the people were. The smallest men, and most of the women, seemed to be six feet tall. The majority were around seven feet, while there were some at eight feet tall. He even saw a few that he estimated to have been nine feet in height. He was awed by the sight.
“Those giants look fearsome. I’m glad they are Philistines.”
Kadmiel explained the situation of the battle with the Israelites and the capture of the Ark of the Covenant. He described the mystery of the statue of Dagon and how it had fallen to the floor before the Ark. He concluded by telling them about the plague and asked if his fellow Philistines would take the Ark.
Trophet, the chief elder, began to laugh. The other elders joined him.
“That is quite a story,” he said after his laughter had died down. “That golden chest with the cherubim on top could not have caused Dagon to fall. It sounds like poor engineers to me. And as for the plague …” He laughed some more. Kadmiel was in pain and not amused. “We have never heard of such a thing. I think that the tumors have been forced out of your bodies because of fear.”
All of the elders began to laugh.
“We will gladly take your fearsome Ark.’ And we will give you a ride back home in a wagon. It is a long walk back to Ashdod.”
Kadmiel felt a sense of relief as he left Gath.
They might be big, but I don’t think they’re very smart, he thought to himself.
Within two days the entire city of Gath was struck with painful tumors. No longer were the giants laughing. The size of their bodies only meant larger tumors. They did not wait long to get the Ark of the Covenant out of their city. They sent the Ark north to the village of Ekron. These Philistines had the reputation of cutting the hamstrings of their enemy’s horses and enslaving the people they captured. Maybe they could deal with the Ark.
Word of the tumors had already reached Ekron when the Ark arrived. The leaders of the city were not happy.
“The giants have brought the Ark of the God of Israel to us, to kill us and our people!”
The Ark was in Ekron only one night before the city experienced the deadly destruction of the plague. A great cry went up among the people. They were in panic. The elders, priests, and diviners gathered the next day to devise a plan.
The chief of the elders said, “Let us send away the Ark of the God of Israel. Let it go back to its own place so that it does not kill us and our people.”
Another elder spoke up. “Let us ask Zereida what he thinks. He is one of the magicians and a very wise diviner.”
All of the heads turned toward Zereida.
He paused for a moment as if thinking and then said, “If you send away the Ark of the God of Israel, do not send it empty. We need to return it with a trespass offering. Then we may be healed. And if the plague does not stop after the return of the Ark and the trespass offering, then you will know that the God of the Israelites did not send the plague.”
“What should be the trespass offering to the Israelite God?” asked the chief elder.
“I suggest five golden tumors and five golden rats, according to the number of the five lords and five major cities of the Philistines. For the same plague was visited on all of you and on your lords. Therefore, you shall make images of your tumors and images of your rats that ravage the land. You should also give glory to the God of Israel. Perhaps He will lighten His hand from you, your gods, and your land.”
The priests did not like that suggestion. They did not want to give glory to the God of the Israelites.
Zereida continued, “Why then do you harden your hearts as did the Egyptians and Pharaoh? When the Israelite God did mighty acts against them, did they not let the people go?”
No one had any other suggestions.
“Now, therefore, make a new cart. Then hitch two milk cows that have never been yoked to the cart. Be sure to take away their calves from them. Next, take the Ark of the Covenant and set it on the cart. Put the trespass articles, the golden tumors and the golden rats, into a chest and place it next to the Ark. Then send the Ark away. Watch from a distance to see if the cows will pull the cart in the direction of the Israelite territory toward Beth Shemesh. You will know that the God of Israel directs them, if the cows leave their calves and walk a path completely unknown to them.”
The men of Ekron followed the advice of Zereida. To their amazement, the cows headed straight for the road to Beth Shemesh. The cows did not turn to the right or the left or stop for water or grass. The lords of the Philistines followed the cart until it reached the border of Beth Shemesh and then disappeared down the road. They continued to follow at a safe distance.
FORTY-EIGHT
DARKNESS HAD STARTED to fall when Murphy, Wagoner, and Clyde Carlson approached the old farmhouse on the outskirts of Raleigh. It was located at the end of a dirt road about a quarter of a mile from the highway. It was a two-story frame house with three gabled windows on the second floor. A light was on in the center gable. A covered porch ran completely around the home. Lights were shining in the lower-floor windows. The drawn curtains prevented them from seeing inside. They could only see an occasional shadow moving about. The farmhouse looked like it must have been built in the early 1900s. There were five newer-model cars parked in front.
The wooden stairs to the porch looked like they had been in need of repair for many years. The paint on the round posts holding up the covered roof was peeling. The boards on the porch itself squeaked as they approached the door a
nd knocked. There was a stained-glass window on the upper half of the door. No one spoke, but they all looked at each other with a little apprehension.
When the door opened they were greeted by a woman in her mid-forties. Her face seemed more wrinkled than normal for someone her age. She was dressed in an outfit that looked much like a gypsy’s.
“Welcome. My name is Carlotta. I am the assistant for Madame Estelle. Please come in and join the others. We’re about to begin.”
They were ushered into a large living room with faint lighting. The furniture and appointments made them feel as if they were back in the 1920s. There were ten other people in the room, four men and six women. They watched Murphy, Wagoner, and Carlson enter but didn’t say a word to them. Murphy couldn’t tell if they were being rude or if they were embarrassed to be seen there.
The woman named Carlotta spoke.
“Please follow me. We will be performing the healings in the dining room.”
In the center of the room was a large table with fourteen chairs around it, five down each side, three at the far end, and one chair presumably for Madame Estelle at the head. Over the table there was a dimly lit chandelier which cast strange shadows on the wall.
Murphy leaned over and whispered in Wagoner’s ear, “It looks like a set from some ‘B’ horror picture.”
“Please be seated. Madame Estelle will be with you shortly.”
Soon music began to play in the background and then Madame Estelle entered, also attired in a gypsy outfit with a brightly colored scarf tied around her head. She had on heavy makeup with dark eye shadow and flaming red lipstick. For a moment Murphy almost laughed, she looked so ridiculous, but he restrained himself.
She sat down and immediately closed her eyes as if she were meditating or waiting for some spirit to speak to her. Everyone watched in silence. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked around the room.
Murphy, Wagoner, and Carlson were seated at the far end of the table opposite Madame Estelle.
As soon as her eyes met Murphy’s, he seemed to notice a slight flash of fear in her face. She then looked at Wagoner and the look of fear turned to a look of anger.
“What are you men doing here?”
Everyone was shocked at her opening and sat in silence.
“You are not believers! You have no part in this meeting! You will hinder the spirit of healing.”
Then her voice seemed to deepen.
“You must leave our presence! You are a negative force!”
Wagoner and Carlson, who were already uncomfortable, started to move. Murphy did not budge. He did not like being challenged in public, and his Irish temper began to flare.
“We’re here to see if what you claim is real. Let’s see you perform your so-called healings.”
“No! You must leave this house.”
Murphy came on a little stronger. “By what power do you perform your healings? Is it by the name of Jesus?”
There was a hideous screeching laugh that startled everyone. The eyes of all the guests were wide with shock.
Madame Estelle’s head bent forward and slammed onto the table with a loud thud. Everyone jumped. For a moment her face lay on the table and she did not move, as if she’d been knocked out.
Then her head shot up and her eyes were bulging. She had the look of a wild animal that was in some kind of trance. As she opened her mouth and began to speak, what came out was a deep, male voice that sent chills down everyone’s spine.
“Unbelievers! Enemies of the Master!”
As she spoke, she grabbed the large table, stood up, lifted her end off the floor and tossed it. The table rolled onto some of the guests who were scrambling to get out of the way. Others screamed and headed out of the room.
Murphy, Wagoner, and Carlson seemed to be glued to their seats at the far end. Wagoner yelled to Murphy.
“Michael! This is for real!”
“I know!” he responded as he jumped to his feet.
Murphy took a step forward. “What is your name?”
The deep, manly voice began to swear and Madame Estelle picked up a wooden chair and tossed it at Murphy. He ducked as the chair flew by. Wagoner moved sideways in time but Carlson was not as fortunate. It hit him, knocking him to the ground. He was bleeding from his nose.
Wagoner joined Murphy and spoke. “What is your name, demon? In the name of Jesus we demand your name!”
“Leave me alone!”
Wagoner reached into his pocket and took out the small Bible he always carried with him. By now, all the other guests had fled the house.
Madame Estelle’s assistant Carlotta fearfully approached and touched her on the shoulder from behind.
“Madame Estelle, please …”
She didn’t have time to complete the sentence. Madame Estelle struck her with such superhuman force that her feet left the ground and she flew back, slamming against the wall and crumpling onto the ground. She was bleeding from the mouth where she had been hit.
“Enough, demon!” Murphy yelled. “In the name of Jesus we command you to sit down.”
Madame Estelle looked like she was struggling with some unseen force as she stumbled toward a chair that was still upright. She sat down with a fierce, wild look in her eyes. Her head was shaking from side to side and guttural sounds burst forth from her lips.
Murphy and Wagoner looked at each other. They couldn’t believe what was happening. They had only heard stories about such events. They had never come face-to-face with the real thing.
“What is your name? In the name of Jesus we demand that you speak.”
Madame Estelle’s head went back and forth rapidly and finally she spoke with the deep, male voice.
“Deception.”
Wagoner joined in.
“Are there any other demons?”
“Yes.”
“What are their names? We command you to speak.”
Madame Estelle twisted violently in her chair. “The Black Healer,” came another voice.
“Corruption,” was the response of a third strange voice.
“Are there any more?” asked Murphy.
“No.”
“We command that you three leave this woman at once.”
Madame Estelle squirmed and screamed and arched her back and collapsed onto the floor in spasms and finally lay still.
Carlotta, the assistant, was holding her mouth and whimpering in the corner of the destroyed dining room. Carlson was still on the floor with a look of shock on his face. Murphy looked over at Wagoner, who was breathing heavily. Wagoner looked back.
“Bob, are you all right?”
“I am. I’m just shaking inside. This was like a nightmare. I’ve never done anything like this in my life.”
Murphy shook his head. “Me neither.”
“I don’t think I’d ever like to do that again. It was like coming up to the edge of darkness and facing the devil. There are forces going on in this world that I never really dreamed of.”
Madame Estelle began to cry. Murphy and Wagoner approached her.
“Are you all right?” asked Murphy.
She sat up and looked at them. She no longer had a harsh distant look in her eyes. Her whole countenance had seemed to soften.
“How long have you been under their control?” Wagoner inquired.
“As far back as I can remember. I think it began when my mother took me with her to a card reader. That sparked my curiosity I started to read books about the supernatural and the occult, and I began to have terrible nightmares. I became a very angry and rebellious child. Later I got deeper into the occult and even joined the Satanic Church. In my twenties I began to discover that I seemed to have the ability to foresee the future. In my late twenties I began to have people come to me for healing. I thought I was helping at first. But before long I began to have deep depressions come over me. I battled with evil thoughts and soon the nightmares became night terrors.”
“How are you feeling now?” asked Wagone
r.
“I’m not sure. I feel like a great burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I feel a peace like I have never felt before. Please tell me about what just happened to me.”
Murphy smiled kindly. This was going to require some delicacy.
FORTY-NINE
ISIS HAD MIXED emotions as she dialed the Preston University number. In some ways she wished that Murphy would answer the phone. She longed to hear his voice and talk with him. She missed him deeply. On the other hand, she was nervous and half hoping that he wouldn’t answer. What if she called and he didn’t want to talk with her? She tapped her fingernails on the desk as the phone was ringing.
“Preston University This is Susan. May I help you?” “Yes, Susan. Could I please have the office of Dr. Michael Murphy?”
“Just a moment, please, and I’ll connect you.”
Isis continued to tap her fingernails as she listened to the ringing. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. Her heart was beating as if it would pop out of her chest. After the fifth ring, she felt a pang of disappointment. She began to put the phone down when she heard someone answer.
“Dr. Murphy’s office. Shari speaking.”
Isis brought the phone back up to her ear. “Hello, Shari. This is Isis McDonald.”
“Oh, hi, Dr. McDonald. I’m sorry for the delay in answering the phone. I was in the laboratory with a fragile manuscript in my hands.”
“I understand, Shari. You just can’t drop an ancient manuscript.”
“I was placing it back in the humidifier.”
“Shari, while I’ve got you on the phone … I was so sorry to hear about your terrible encounter with Talon. That must have been frightening.”
“It was. And I still wake up in the night thinking about it. I came close to losing my life.”
“I know what you mean. I still have nightmares about him choking me to death. I don’t think those emotional scars heal so quickly. Michael also told me about Paul Wallach. How’s he doing?”
Shari sounded sad. “I’m afraid that he’s still in critical condition. If anything, he seems to be going downhill.”
