What the Hand: A Novel About the End of the World and Beyond

by Stockwell, Todd

  ***

  Between the asteroid and Wormwood, another two billion were dead, and thousands more would die from the fallout and the fires and the flooding and the toxic food and the poisoned waters and the disease and the demons and the persecutions and the fighting and the crime and on and on. And they would continue to die, thousands each day, Minions and Mark-bearers, good people, bad people, and Christians alike, right up until the end.

  ***

  By the time I regained consciousness, it was nearly dark, so I assumed I had been unconscious for several hours. As it turned out, it hadn’t been all that long. It was still midday. The smoke and dust had blocked out much of the sun, turning the early afternoon into twilight.

  I lay sprawled in a ravine, on a tiny patch of meadow, a refuge protected by the only three remaining trees in sight. Everywhere around me, as far as I could see, the land had been laid bare, an apocalyptic wasteland of charred stumps and torched earth.

  ***

  Beyond a raging headache and the sting in my eyes, I wasn’t injured. I stood but hesitated to leave my sanctuary for some time, such was the devastation of my surroundings.

  I thought there might be a slim chance Danny had survived, but I was pretty sure Howard and Billy had not. Even so, I climbed out of the ravine to the ridge where I lost them.

  If I had had any hope for them, it was shattered as soon as I reached the top. Looking down, the destruction was even more complete on the other side. Nothing existed as far as I could see on that black and barren mountainside. And Crescent City, Roger’s resting place, was no more. A giant wave had dragged it into the sea.

  I cried then. I missed my friends, and I didn’t want to be alone again. I prayed for them. I was now certain Howard and Billy were dead, but I asked God to spare them anyway. And I prayed to find Danny alive. I slid back down the ravine and began the steep hike back to our last camp.

  ***

  We never found their bodies. I found out later that Billy died instantly when the impact of the asteroid launched him headfirst into a tree. And Howard didn’t feel much either. He went up in flames very quickly with the forest.

  ***

  There was little point trying to find the trail in that desert of scorched earth, so I took my best guess and headed in the general direction of our last camp. The going was difficult. My canteen lost, mouth dry, eyes burning from smoke and dust, I stumbled along. Exhausted after fifty yards, I took too deep a breath, my lungs filled with soot. It took some time to cough it out, and even with shallow breaths, I had to stop every few minutes to clear my lungs. I kept at it, though, knowing there was once a stream below the camp I would eventually have to cross. If it still existed, I felt I could make it there within the hour, and there I would rest, drink, and rinse my eyes.

  ***

  But I had sorely underestimated the distance, or the pace, or both. Two hours later, I was tackling a third ridge, practically crawling, black and mostly blind, choking up blood and dust and soot, nearly dead from dehydration, my strength gone, losing more hope with each step. I prayed silently for water or a quick death; either would do. I was almost to the top, but I knew if I didn’t see the stream below I would be finished.

  Once at the top, I lifted my ragged and bleeding body high enough to peer into the ravine. My heart sank. I had reached the stream, but now it was merely a river of black dirt and soot, a mocking and dry oasis of death. I was too tired and thirsty to be afraid. I asked God to forgive me for my sins again, and happily laid my worn-out body down to die.

  ***

  Many had visions in those last days because of the demons being unleashed and the spiritual battle between the forces of good and evil, raging to capture the hearts and minds and souls of the people. Some were sent from God; some from demons. Because I bore no mark, I drew the attention of demons. And though I would never have opened myself up to them to the extent Roger had, because I was not deeply rooted in prayer and the Word of God, I was quite vulnerable to their attacks. Eagerly lying down to die was apparently not part of God’s plan for me, and so in that moment I became a particular target of the dark side.

  ***

  God expected more out of me. Perhaps that was why I was still alive. I had taken the easy way out all my life, and now God wanted me to fight, to live, so I could spread the Good News of Christ, even go down as a martyr. But I was too much of a coward. And over and over, I had convinced the others not to martyr themselves, and now most of them were dead. God would forgive me, but He wasn’t going to let me off the hook so easily.

  ***

  As soon as I closed my eyes to die, it seemed, they were open again. I was standing next to Danny on the mountain where we first met. I was clean, uninjured, wearing a long white robe. Danny held my hand. Only she was much younger and somehow different, too beautiful perhaps.

  I looked at her, and she smiled like she always did, but I had this odd feeling she had changed her mind, that she was in love with me. Then she said it; she said she was in love with me. I told her I loved her, too.

  She asked me to follow her, leading me up a path to an overlook where we could see the valley below. It was greener than I remembered, with a great big lake and a wide river I had never seen before. “We made it, George.”

  And when she said it, a magnificent white city appeared from nowhere, and a golden road began to form and wind its way up the mountain until it reached our sandaled feet. “Are you ready?”

  “We’re in heaven?” I asked.

  She laughed. “Come on,” she said, and she stepped on the golden road pulling my arm.

  But I hesitated. I was confused. “Is this heaven?” I asked her again.

  “We’ll be married, George…come on, hurry!”

  “But you don’t love me like that…you told me.”

  “It’s different now.”

  “But why, Danny?”

  “We’re here.”

  Something felt wrong. “I know, but why is it different?” I said.

  She stopped smiling. “Well, just forget it then. I won’t marry you!”

  She sounded like a spoiled little girl, not at all the Danny I knew. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing is wrong with me! You don’t want me now—is that it?” she said.

  “It’s not that—it’s just something isn’t right.”

  “It’s all ours—this is our paradise if we want it. You and I forever—don’t you want that?”

  “I do want that, Danny,” I said, and I did. “But what about everyone else? Where is my daughter?”

  “We’ll make our own children.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. I want to see my daughter.”

  “You don’t love me!”

  “This isn’t like you…what’s going on, Danny?”

  It was then that her face began to change. Her features contorted and her body twisted. In another instant, Danny had turned into a man. He had pleasant enough appearance and looked to be in his sixties. Like a caricature of a devil from some movie, he wore an immaculate white suit, his hair slicked back like an 80s Wall Street player.

  I wasn’t as surprised as I should have been, I suppose. I calmly asked him who he was and what he had done with Danny.

  “She’s waiting for you, and I am a friend,” he said.

  “I don’t know you, sir. Who are you?”

  “It’s not important.”

  “I insist.”

  “I have many names. The Greeks knew me as Hades, and the Romans as Pluto, but you can call me Richard now,” he said.

  ***

  Hades or Pluto lived on the Old Earth long before the Greeks and the Romans wrote down his myth. Both cultures knew him as the keeper of the underworld. Hades actually was in charge of the pit, but only when Satan wasn’t around. He was particularly sadistic, known for wandering the pit with a two-pronged spear, poking doomed humans for fun. Satan was actually upset with him over this because he liked to think he operated with some finesse, and it wa
s this activity that was responsible for the whole devil pitchfork stereotype. Every time Satan came across a picture of a red, horn-headed devil holding a pronged spear he’d wince and curse his old pal.

  ***

  Now I faced a seemingly friendly, human version of the fiend. “You’re a demon, then,” I said.

  “I don’t much care for that designation, but I won’t hide behind semantics.”

  “Have you harmed Danny?”

  “I have not. But she is well and not well. We make our own realities here.”

  “What do you want with me, Dick?”

  He ignored the jab. “I want to give you a gift.”

  “I don’t want anything from you,” I said.

  “Ah…but you haven’t seen the gift.” And then I was inside the white city, in a great manor, sprawled on a throne of pillows, spread before me every dish and drink imaginable. And the demon, Richard, was there, too, lying next to me. “This is paradise,” he said.

  Then Danny appeared again. “That isn’t her,” I said, and with that, she disappeared.

  “Perhaps you’d like a variety,” he said, and a bevy of some of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen paraded across the floor in from of me, my very own Miss Universe pageant.

  I won’t lie and tell you it wasn’t tough. I can’t deny it. At that moment, I wanted those women, every one of them. And when he placed a tray of fine white powder in front of me, I was nearly done.

  ***

  Except—I wasn’t done. I mean, I thought about it. And I think part of me wanted to suck up a fatty and throw myself at those women like the fool I once was, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t exactly the same man. Events had changed me. The mountain had changed me. My new friends had changed me. God had changed me. Tempting as it was, I knew it was ugly, depraved, meaningless, and if I partook, I would never see Sophie again. For once in my pathetic, miserable life I chose her. I chose my daughter.

  ***

  Richard didn’t try anymore after that. He knew it was hopeless just by the look on my face. And with that I was back on the ridge above the black river, thirsty, filthy, bleeding, mostly blind, and utterly exhausted.

  At the time I thought it could have been a dream, but it felt too real, and I found out later that it was both real and not real, a true vision. I had been visited by the demon spirit of the false god Hades, manifested as a man calling himself Richard.

  ***

  I felt broken, ready to leave the Earth, but the experience had moved me, enough that I decided to give up my will to die. “Lord,” I said. “I will stand and keep moving. Do with me what you will.” I shuffled along the ridge for a few feet, to the rim of the burnt canyon wall and slid down into the ravine. Then I picked myself up and slowly crossed the soot-filled gap where the stream once flowed.

  The other side was steep, unclimbable in my state. I continued moving upstream. There didn’t seem to be a way up the ravine. Still, I walked, feebly, painfully, sliding foot to foot really, until I thought I would collapse again. I swayed for a moment, ready to fall, when I heard a faint sound, causing me to stiffen, and instead of dropping, I stood firm to listen.

  It was slight but unmistakable. I even managed a smile and a pained laugh. It was a sound like a powered-up speaker, void of any music. Except it was music to my ears. It was the magnificent deep whistle of flowing water somewhere in the distance.

  ***

  I stayed there for some time, stretched out across a spotless yellow boulder, cleansed as it was by the falling water, and large enough to pierce the black surroundings. Step by painful step, the sound of rushing water had led me to a single oasis.

  ***

  My inclination had been to quickly drink, rinse, and set out to find Danny before she might succumb to any injuries, if the demon had not lied and she was still alive. But, as exhausted as I was, I was coherent enough to realize I wouldn’t be able to make it at all if I didn’t rest and quench my body sufficiently.

  And there was something else to it. I didn’t know what it was at first, but it came to me as the water poured over me. I was at peace for the first time in months. And I somehow knew I would find Danny and she would be all right.

  ***

  It only took me two hours to reach the camp. But even having rested, I wouldn’t have made it except for another huge factor. The aliens were at it again with their giant vacuum cleaners, ridding the atmosphere of smoke, dust, radiation, and the deadly nuclear particles. I couldn’t see the spaceships above the debris and the clouds, but they were there. I could hear the familiar humming. The smoke and dust would have finished me without them. In that respect I had been rescued by demons.

  But the demons hadn’t sent the aliens to help me. They hadn’t sent them to help anyone. They wanted the skies cleared for a fresh start, another go at destruction. The demons, the Illuminati, the Antichrist, the New World Order, all worked an ironic program of salvage and ruin, a dichotomy of self-interest: butchery and mayhem, liberation and indoctrination; torture and murder, rescue and reprogramming. All intended for one purpose: to garner more souls for the pit.

  ***

  The area of the camp was devastated, but not as completely as the lower mountains. I was able to find the water containers, the first-aid kit, food, and other supplies. I could even make out the trail slightly. I filled a small pack and headed once again down the mountain, this time to find Danny.

  ***

  I found her within an hour. The land was so barren, I could see clearly in front of me for some distance. When I crossed the second ridge, two lone trees stood against the horizon. She lay smack in the middle of those trees. The good Lord had provided Danny with a slight yet sufficient refuge of her own.

  ***

  Danny was in pretty bad shape, unconscious and badly burned on her exposed arms and face. I wetted her mouth and tongue with a soaked cloth, tended to her burns as best I could, prayed over her until I couldn’t keep my eyes open and fell asleep beside her.

  ***

  I was dreaming about the strange orange grass again when she woke me. Danny was smiling, her white teeth shining out from her charred and scalded face. Perhaps it was just my happiness over seeing her alive again, or my desperate joy over not being alone any longer, but she looked more beautiful than ever. And there was something else, something different about her, something I couldn’t explain.

  “You’re here, George. You’re alive.”

  It took me a moment to take her in, and then I began to cry.

  “Don’t cry,” she said.

  “I can’t help it. I’m so happy you’re alive.”

  She laughed a little then. “I’m happy you’re alive.”

  But then I thought about Roger and the others, and I turned my head from her.

  “I must be a sight.”

  I turned back and touched the side of her face. “It’s not that, not that at all…you’re so, so beautiful.”

  “You’re crazy, George. I can feel my face.”

  “It’s true,” I said.

  “What’s wrong then, George? We’re together. We’re alive.”

  I turned away again.

  “Is it the others? Is it Roger?”

  I looked at her and I began to cry again, even harder. “I’m sorry, Danny. I couldn’t get to him in time.”

  Her expression didn’t change. In fact, if anything, she seemed happier. She even laughed again. Something was wrong with her. “You’re not getting it, Danny. They’re dead. Roger is dead—they’re all dead.”

  She shook her head at me and smiled, wider than before. “I know that, George.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, George. I saw them in a dream. They’re all there, George! Her joy was palpable. She was practically glowing. “And Roger, George! Roger made it, too!”

  “How do you know?” I was skeptical, especially after the lies in my own vision.

  “I just know,” she said.

  I was smiling then, and I began laughi
ng, laughing hysterically for no reason. Roger made it? You’re freaking kidding me? Now we were both cracking up, and she rolled on top of me. “Your son Roger is in heaven? Are we talking about the same Roger? The same Roger who cut off Speckle’s head with an axe?

  “Stop it, George,” she said, and she laughed harder.

  “Axe murderer, Roger? Roger, the devil worshiper?” I couldn’t help myself.

  “Yes, Roger, you nut,” she could barely spit it out she was laughing so hard.

  ***

  We stayed like that for some time, laughing and rolling around on the ground until I insisted we stop. It wasn’t helping her injuries, or mine for that matter. But we were exhausted anyway, so we ate and cuddled to stay warm, falling asleep that way, until the cold woke us, and we made our way back to the camp to build a fire and look for something more to eat.

  ***

  We moved further inland, as far away from the asteroid’s impact as we could without reaching civilization, to a smaller mountain, where the forest was green again and the wildlife relatively unharmed. And we made a camp for ourselves, in a small meadow, surrounded by a thicket of trees and brush.

  For days we rested, talked and reminisced about Roger and our good friends. She told me about her dream and the paradise she’d seen. I told her about my dreams, and when I mentioned the orange grass she remembered the same detail in her dream, and we knew, if we already didn’t, that we had seen the same place.

  I also told her about the vision I’d thought I’d had. She agreed it was a vision, but the demon was real, she said, and she was sure it had been a test. She brought up the temptation Jesus had faced after his forty days and nights in the desert, when the devil offered him all the kingdoms and treasures of the world.

  We talked about so many things, about what paradise would be like, about demons, and sin, and religion, and Christ. We were growing close, but I was the only one enamored. She was with me, but part of her was somewhere else.