by Dawn Morris
For hours I’d seen nothing but sand on either side of the deserted highway, but just a short time after Noam’s screaming fit, I glimpsed a vast city ahead, filling the entire horizon.
How would Jannik ever find me?
“There, there,” came the voice out of Noah’s mouth, “Do not fear! We won’t let this worm touch you. No, we have better plans for you! The master needs your services.”
Disgust pushed the panic back and righteous indignation filled me.
“I will never serve your master!”
He laughed. “Yes, you will. Not willingly, but you will.”
I was about to shout in defiance, but the voice that had warned me earlier in the day spoke again in my mind. It was like my own thoughts but different in tone.
Do not answer.
Realizing with dismay how different my situation would be if I’d only obeyed the voice earlier, I clamped my mouth shut. We were close to the great city now. Blossoming out of the sands of the desert were huge, glittering skyscrapers, many topped with images of a half moon. Bordering the city were gigantic, craggy mountains, standing like sentinels. Some were so high I could see snow covering the tops.
We slowed down, and I could see barriers ahead . . . and armed soldiers. After a few minutes, we pulled up to the guards. Noam handed a small red book to the soldier.
“Welcome to New Babylon. What’s the purpose of your visit?”
“I have a delivery for the Propagation Institute,” Noam answered.
I had no idea what the word propagation meant. If I had known, maybe I would have fought harder to get away.
FLOOD
Chapter 34
I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.
Job 42:2
The sun was just rising when we found Shem, of all people, outside the gates, waiting with a horse and a cart. The baby was asleep in my arms and had stayed miraculously quiet as we snuck through the city toward the city gate. Oddly, there were no guards at the gate, so we went through unchallenged.
I couldn’t believe it was really him. After years of imprisonment in this city of nightmares, I began sobbing when I saw his familiar face and ran into his arms. The last time I’d seen Shem was the day Japheth was killed.
“We must leave quickly,” he said after hugging me tightly and kissing my cheek. I bundled the nurse and child into the cart before climbing in. We raced away, leaving the city shrinking behind us.
After a while, we slowed our pace to spare the horse. So far, no one had come after us. The baby slept securely in the nurse’s arms behind us, but I kept looking back to make sure he was safe.
“Ariana, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through,” Shem said tenderly.
I closed my eyes for a moment. They felt hot and dry and tired. The past years in captivity had crept by slowly, but the last few days, each horrible second, had felt like a lifetime.
“All of it was hard, but yesterday was the worst,” my voice cracked. “They murdered infants last night. They put them on the metal arms of their idol and the babies fell into the fire.”
My heart began to pound at the memory. Bile rose in my throat, and I could smell the horrific stench of burning human flesh again. Brokenly, I described all of the abominations that had happened in Babylon the night before, beginning with the death of my friend.
Shem sat next to me, too stunned to speak, tears pouring down his face. He stopped the cart, stumbled out, and vomited on the ground. Then he fell to his knees.
I got out and knelt next to him. We cried out to the Creator. We’d thought the evil of the old world had been drowned in the great Flood. We’d hoped that our children, our grandchildren, all of our family would live in a better world than the one we’d left behind. Our hearts were broken.
“We are the problem,” Shem cried out, lifting his hands to the sky. “This evil is in the heart of all of us! What can we do? Who will save us from ourselves?”
Heavy with grief, we gradually got up and returned to the wagon. The nursemaid stared at us with a troubled expression as she nursed the infant.
“Is something wrong?” I asked anxiously.
She shook her head no and ran a finger from her eye down her cheek and pointed to us, then put her hand on her heart. I suddenly realized that she must be mute. Shem must have realized, as well, because he asked her. She nodded, opening her mouth.
My heart felt fiery with rage. “Nimrod cuts his servants’ tongues out so that they can’t gossip about him and Semiramis.” I spat the words out bitterly
Shem and I climbed back onto the cart and rode on in silence.
We followed the dusty road that ran parallel to the Tigris River. Only a few travelers had passed us, heading toward Babylon, and we kept our heads down and the baby out of sight.
“I think we should stop soon and find a place to camp.” Shem turned back to look behind us. “I think we are far enough ahead if anyone is following us.”
I felt uneasy. What if the people we met along the way tell others about seeing us here? We decided to veer off the road and camp in a grove of dense trees. It was out of sight but still close enough to get water easily.
I got down from the cart and took the baby from the nursemaid. I watched as Shem unhitched the horse from the cart’s shaft and carefully pushed the cart into the trees. I felt uneasy but knew we all needed rest.
Shem and the nursemaid left to fetch water for the horse and for us, and I sat with the baby, my back against a tree. He was so small, just two days old.
“Your mother wanted you so much,” I whispered. He made the precious tiny noises and grunts all newborns make.
“They waited too long to call me,” I moaned. My heart felt like a heavy stone. Amalthai had been my one beacon of light during my captivity. I still could not comprehend how someone with so much liveliness could be dead. I was exhausted.
The baby began to cry. Placing him against my shoulder, I walked in the shade under the trees, comforted by the little one in my arms. His cries slowed down, and I kissed the top of his head. “What a sweet boy you are!” I told him quietly.
As hot as the desert was in the day, it was cold at night. Shem made a fire, and we slept next to it, the nursemaid and I on either side of the baby so he could stay warm in the heat from our bodies.
I woke from a deep sleep the next morning, stretching slowly before opening my eyes. No longer a young woman, my body was stiff from sleeping on the hard ground. For a few moments, I kept my eyes closed, recalling a trip into the wilderness I had taken with Japheth after the floodwaters receded. We spent a few months exploring together with our baby, grateful for some time alone after being in the ark with the others. Even so many years later, I vividly recalled his tender kisses waking me in the dawn’s soft light as we lay together.
The baby started crying. I opened my eyes and sat up, startled. The nursemaid was gone. I gathered the babe into my arms and looked around, my heart sinking. Though I hoped she was just nearby, I knew in my heart that was likely not the case.
“Shem, Shem! Wake up,” I called frantically.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“The nursemaid is gone! I heard her crying during the night. I think she’s gone back to the city. What are we going to do?”
“Maybe she just went to get more water,” Shem said reassuringly as he patted my shoulder. “I’ll go look.”
I walked quickly after him, desperate to find the girl. But when we got to the river, as I feared, there was no sign of her.
It was early afternoon when we climbed into the cart. Shem handed the baby to me, and I cradled him in my lap. We traveled in silence. I prayed to the Creator for the child, who would starve if we could not find another wet nurse. After all of this, surely you wouldn’t let him die. He’s all that’s left of Amalthai.
As we rode on, I shared my fears with Shem. “How far are we from your village?”
“We still have anothe
r few days journey. You can see the foothills just now ahead. We should reach those tomorrow. It will be much cooler and fresh water will be easily accessible.”
“If he were a little older, that might work, but he will not survive without milk.”
We fell silent again and traveled on until it was time to stop for the night. We shared water and some dried fruit and nuts Shem had brought with him. Cradling the baby in my arms close to my breast, I dipped my finger in the water, and he eagerly sucked. My heart ached, despairing for Amalthai’s son.
“He cannot die unnamed,” I whispered.
Shem nodded in agreement. “I think that you should name him.”
In the dusky firelight, my eyes traced over the child’s face. I wanted to make his name a prayer.
Just then a silvery streak shot across the starry sky, leaving a shimmering trail of dusty light behind it. I took it as a sign from the Creator that he heard my request.
“Surely this child was saved for a reason! It is my prayer that the Creator will be his father, and that one day this little one will grow old enough to be a father himself! Yes, Shem! That is the prayer! I name him Abram.” Then I gasped, “Look at the sky!”
We stared in wonder at the sight before us. Showers of stars were falling in a dazzling display. I thought of the evil I had seen back in Babylon, the terrible child sacrifices and the spirits of the wicked Fallen Ones. Evil was growing in Babylon. I had first encountered it in the Magistrate, long ago, before the great Flood, and now, it was growing in Babylon and sought to destroy this one child. Maybe the evil one wants to destroy this child because the Lord has a special plan for his life?
This child had been spared for a reason. I had fought for his life the night he was born, and silently, I vowed to continue.
FIRE
Chapter 35
Some of our daughters have already been enslaved, but it is not in our power to help it, for other men have our fields and our vineyards.
Nehemiah 5:5
Noam was instructed to pull his vehicle into an area to the left of the large city gates, where an armed guard approached the vehicle. “Step out, please.”
Noam got out, opened the back door, reached in, and pulled me out. “I have brought this woman here for the Propagation Institute. I was told I would get a finder’s fee.”
The soldier laughed. “Lucky you! The Institute is very generous! Not many like her left, you know.” He went on to make nasty comments while insisting he had to make sure I didn’t have any hidden weapons. I tried to pull away as his rough hands ran over my body, but Noam held me in a vice-like grip.
Finally, the guard finished his search and instructed us to follow him. We went into a small building. Immediately, cool air enveloped me. Despite my circumstances, I was amazed at how much the change in temperature revived me.
The soldier went up to a counter and typed something into a computer then returned to us. “A car from the Institute will be here in about thirty minutes. You can wait over there.” He gestured to a space filled with chairs and low tables. There was a large plastic jar filled with water. My throat was dry, but there was no way I would ask Noam for a drink of water.
“And I suggest you untie her,” the soldier told Noam. “The Institute insists on treating their producers well. If they think you’ve damaged her in any way, they’ll dock the finder’s fee.”
He moved off, and Noam untied my hands, muttering wildly to himself. As soon as my hands were free, I hauled off and punched him in the nose. Blood spurted, and he fell back with a look of great surprise.
“You little—” he screamed, coming at me. The soldier came rushing back and pushed him against the wall, ordering him to calm down.
“You,” he barked, looking at me. “Go sit over there!”
Instead, I sauntered over to the water jug, took one of the white plastic cups hanging from a dispenser, and poured water into it. I stood there staring at both men and slowly drank its contents before filling it again and taking a seat.
Noam was ordered by the guard to sit on the other side of the room. “I can see I need to stay here,” the soldier complained.
I crossed my legs and sipped the water, inwardly seething and keeping my eyes on a fuming Noam, who sat across from me, Zivah’s dried blood still on his shirt. If I’d had a weapon, I would have killed Noam right then and there.
It wasn’t long before the automatic doors to my right opened. A tall man, well-dressed in a suit and tie, strode into the waiting room. Even larger men, also well dressed, flanked him on either side. I could see holsters bulging just inside their jackets.
Noam stood up and went toward them. One of the larger men pulled his gun out and ordered him to stop his approach. Noam complied and stood with his hands raised as the other man patted him down.
“I brought her here for the reward,” Noam stated arrogantly, nodding his chin at the man in charge. “I expect the full amount.”
Without a word, the tall man walked past him and stood before me. Although he had dark, swarthy skin, his eyes were the palest blue I’d ever seen.
“Stand up,” he ordered. I quickly obeyed.
He took my arm in his hand and pulled a silver object from his jacket pocket. I stifled a gasp as he put the object against my skin. There was a sharp sting like a wasp. He pulled it back, and I put my hand over the bloody spot left on my arm, rubbing it. He shook the silver cylinder and watched a display on the side of it for a few seconds.
“She’s clear of the primary diseases. Once we get her to the Institute and verify she’s clear of the others, and intact, you will be paid,” he stated, before turning to one of the guards. “Take her out to the vehicle.”
“I want to be paid now,” Noam complained loudly. “You can’t just take her. She’s my property.”
I didn’t get to see what the tall man’s response was because I was taken back out into the dazzling heat and pushed into a sleek, black vehicle. I stared out the windows as the vehicle drove by itself through the towering city gates, leaving Noam far behind me—and everything else I had ever known, for that matter.
The city was certainly like nothing I had ever seen before. I was stunned as we drove for almost an hour through the futuristic, silver shine of the city that appeared to be made entirely of metal and glass. The sidewalks were meticulously clean. It didn’t feel like the desert anymore.
A shiver ran through me as I saw huge men, like the ones I’d seen on the screen when President Bellomo introduced his “supernatural partners” back in Jerusalem. We passed two walking together, much taller than any men I’d ever seen. Those super humans again. One turned, and his eyes caught mine. They glittered with evil.
Terror gripped me.
“Who—what—are those men?” I breathed slowly as I inquired of the guard sitting across from me.
He laughed. “How do you not know that? Those are two of the Progenitors. They’re from another dimension. Have you not heard President Bellomo telling us about them? Their race has watched over the world since they seeded it with life long ago. Some say they are the biblical Nephilim returning.
“But you won’t see them where you’re going. They only interact with the world leaders. They’re here in New Babylon in great numbers, of course.”
“Of course.” I wanted nothing to do with those creatures.
I had more questions. “New Babylon—is it the world’s capital?” He looked at me like I was an idiot, then patted me on the head without answering what, to him, was clearly obvious. Changing the topic abruptly, he commented drily, “At least you’re pretty.”
If my knuckles didn’t hurt from punching Noam, I might have hit him, too. I glared at him instead.
We drove for quite some time before I saw the ocean glittering turquoise in the distance. The guard, obviously taking pity on my ignorance and filled with pride for his city, droned on next to me.
Finally, the vehicle slowed as we approached a massive steel and glass building formed like two
gently rolling hills. Between them was a large cube, also formed out of steel and glass. The turquoise color of the nearby ocean sparkled off the glass. We came to a stop, and I was ushered into the building. The words “Propagation Institute” were above the doors.
The space was immense. In the center was a well-appointed reception area. Men and women stood behind a desk, speaking to richly dressed people on the other side.
The guard hustled me along. I tried to keep track of where we were going, in case I was able to escape. We entered an elevator, made purely of glass, with glowing buttons, and I noted he pushed the number 33. The doors opened, and the guard led us down a brightly lit corridor and through glass doors marked “Intake.”
Another desk stood just inside the door; an older woman dressed in white sat behind it. She stood quickly and bowed to the tall man. A tag on her shirt read “Intake Specialist.”
“Ah, Dr. Winston,” she greeted the tall man in a servile way. Obviously, he was someone of importance. I listened as he instructed her to have me showered and ordered a workup done. He wanted the results on his desk by the end of the day. Without another word, he turned and left.
The intake specialist led me to a bathroom. “You will shower in here and dress in the clothes set there by the sink. Just leave your things on the floor. One of the staff will see to disposing of them.” She turned and left. I was alone.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, noting the desperation in my eyes. How would Jannik ever find me here? Even if he found Noam, how could he ever enter the city gates or find me? This building seemed inescapable.
Stripping off my clothes, I got into the shower, which flowed from the ceiling like rain from a large, round head in the ceiling. I sat on the tiled bench built into the wall and let the warm water pour over me as I gave in to despair. I had no idea how I could escape, no hope that the man who had just told me he loved me would ever be able to find me.
Why does this keep happening to me? Does God even care about me? I finally find another human being who really loves me, whom I really love . . I felt so hopeless. There was no way out.
