The First Detect-Eve

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  It seemed it would take more to flush him out.

  I decided to make my performance a little more interesting. “Father, I have a question,” I said, looking skyward as if I were speaking directly to God instead of just listening. “What about my husband and I? May we return, too?”

  For a long moment, I continued to look upward as if listening to God’s reply. When I finally lowered my gaze, I saw Adam staring at me expectantly, impatiently, desperately.

  “Well?” he said simply, touching my arm with lightly trembling fingers.

  “Not fair,” I said softly, disappointedly. “It’s not fair.”

  Adam withdrew his hand from my arm. “Why? What did He say?”

  “I’m sorry, Adam,” I said. “We’re not invited.”

  Immediately, Adam looked crushed. “But last night, He told me we could return. He promised me.”

  Gently, I reached out and caressed his cheek. “He doesn’t love us as much as his other child,” I said. “He doesn’t want us in Eden.”

  Adam’s eyes glistened with tears as I pulled him close and wrapped him in my arms. I hated to hurt him with the lies about what God was telling me, but I thought it was necessary to convince the enemy.

  And anyway, I knew that at least some of what I had said was true. I knew in my heart that God would never let us back into paradise.

  It was a terrible thing to know, especially now that I had been reminded of just how wondrous Eden could be. It was enough to make me cry tears of my own as my husband sobbed against my shoulder.

  “God forgives you,” I said, raising my voice for the enemy. “Go to him. Go before he changes his mind.”

  Then, as Adam and I held each other and wept, I finally heard it.

  The rustle of grass. The whisper of something sliding through it, pressing soft blades beneath a long, supple body.

  Then rasping over the ground. Slithering closer.

  Hissing.

  And then, I felt it. Rippling right over the tops of my feet.

  I clutched my husband tighter and clamped my eyes shut, willing myself not to move.

  *****

  Slowly, for what seemed like an eternity, my enemy pulled himself over the bare skin of my feet. Instinct screamed at me to leap away from him, to escape before I felt his poisonous fangs sink into my flesh.

  I stood my ground, but just barely. My heart hammered as inch by inch, he dragged himself over me. Echoes of my nightmare of being paralyzed beneath this very monster flashed through my mind like blasts of lightning, urging me to kick him off and run away as fast as I could.

  And just when I thought I couldn’t bear it another moment, he stopped.

  Shivering, I looked down at him.

  His head lifted off the ground and curled around to face me. Blazing red eyes met my own.

  His forked pink tongue fluttered at me, then withdrew. He opened his mouth, glossy black scales parting to reveal fangs and slimy flesh.

  And then he laughed.

  It was no more than a wheezing snicker, but I heard it. Adam was sobbing in my ear, but every sound that my enemy made was like a thunderclap to me.

  “Loves me more,” he wheezed in his tiny, high-pitched voice, eyes bright with malicious glee. “No hard feelings.”

  I gave him a look of extreme agony and fear. It wasn’t something I had to play at, what with his body stretched over my feet and his fiery eyes locked to my own...though my expression did not reveal everything I was feeling.

  For instance, the victorious thrill I experienced at being right about the enemy’s true motivations. Outwardly an opponent of God’s will, he inwardly craved God’s affection; everything he did was a cry for attention or an effort to eliminate the competition for God’s love...namely, us.

  What he failed to recognize, like Adam, was that he could never regain what he had lost. Perhaps, in his heart, he knew it...but he could never accept it. Like Adam, he was addicted to hope, unable to move on, trapped in orbit around an unforgiving Father.

  And, like Adam, if promised the slightest chance for reconciliation--presented convincingly--he would leap at it like a fish gulping bait.

  Twitching with nervous excitement, the enemy flicked his head toward Eden, then lashed it back around to stare at me. “Thanks for passing along the good news,” he said in that piping, otherworldly voice. “I owe you one.”

  Then, with a wild flicker of his tongue, he whipped around and slithered toward Eden. As his tail slid from one foot to the other and was finally gone, I shuddered with overwhelming revulsion and relief.

  And anticipation of what was to come.

  *****

  Through tear-filled eyes, I watched as the glittering black serpent flowed toward Eden, his long, thin body curling like liquid over the red earth.

  He hesitated at the boundary, head weaving back and forth, forked tongue flittering. I held my breath, hoping he wasn’t reconsidering his course of action. I didn’t think my performance would hold up to much scrutiny...and he was, after all, the original trickster.

  When the serpent backed away a few inches from the boundary, I decided that he was indeed on to me...but all was not lost. If I acted quickly enough, I could still do the job myself with a rock or a branch or even my feet. Breaking my embrace with Adam, I looked around frantically for a weapon.

  And stopped.

  I heard the sound of something sliding through the brush. When I looked at the boundary line, the serpent was gone.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened. I stared after him, wondering if perhaps he had gotten lucky and was slipping back in without penalty after all. It would have been just my luck, I thought, for the serpent to find welcome in paradise after instigating the murder of my son.

  I stepped closer to the boundary, squinting into the shimmering vegetation for a sign of my enemy.

  Then, suddenly, something crashed down through the trees on Eden’s fringe, dropping so fast and with such force that I gasped and fell backward. As I toppled, I glimpsed a blur of silver and flame flashing downward, leaving a trail of billowing black smoke.

  The object struck the ground with a deafening crack. When it hit, the serpent’s body flew out of Eden, twisting in midair...and flopped in the dirt at my feet.

  It was headless.

  Inside the Garden, I caught a glimpse of the fallen object at rest: a giant silver sword with a broad, curved blade, at least as long as Adam and I laid end to end. Red and yellow flames rippled and crackled along its entire length, dancing over the spine and flat of the blade, encircling the glittering, golden hilt, shooting off sparks that set fire to the flowers and brush among which it had landed.

  I gazed upon the instrument of death for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of it, realizing it would have done the same to Adam and me as it had to the serpent if we had crossed the boundary. Then, the fiery sword heaved itself from the earth and shot back up through the trees, a blur of silver, flame, and smoke.

  It leaped into the heavens and was gone.

  *****

  “Was that what I think it was?” said Adam, shading his eyes as he gazed up at the lingering smoky trail left behind by the sword.

  “Uh-huh,” I said, staring down at the headless body of the serpent.

  Adam watched the sky a moment more, then walked over to join me. “That isn’t the wayward child, is it?” he said, nudging the dead serpent with his big toe.

  “Apparently,” I said with a shrug.

  “I guess his invitation got cancelled,” said Adam.

  “Guess so,” I said. “You still want to try to get back into Eden?”

  “Maybe some other time,” Adam said with a little smile.

  “You know who this is, don’t you?” I said, kicking the serpent’s corpse.

  Adam cleared his throat and nodded.

  “You know he’s the one who talked to you last night, right?” I said.

  Adam hesitated, sliding his eyes from me to the serpent and back again. “Yeah,” he said
finally, nodding as if he’d been perfectly well aware of the complexities of the situation from the start. “Of course I do.”

  “And he’s the one who encouraged Cain to kill Abel.”

  “Right,” said Adam. “It figures.”

  I kicked the serpent’s body again. “And you realize God wasn’t really talking to me just now,” I said. “God never told me he loved the serpent more than you. It was all a trick.”

  “Oh, sure,” said Adam, grinning. “I didn’t think that part rang true.”

  I smiled, because of course he hadn’t figured out any of it on his own and it was just like him to act like he’d been in the know all along.

  It was just one of the many things I loved about him.

  “I think we should go find Cain,” I said, “and take him home.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Adam. “The sooner, the better.”

  I’d never thought I’d hear him sound eager to leave Eden, but there it was. Maybe, after witnessing the flaming sword in action and finding out that his invitation to the Garden had been a trick of the serpent’s, Adam was finally getting over his Eden fever.

  Or, maybe, I was just as addicted to hope as he was...the hope that he would forget about paradise and make the most of the life he had. Maybe, we had more in common than I’d ever realized. And why not?

  After all, we really were made for each other.

  *****

  As it turned out, Cain decided to stay in Nod, because it was the place he loved best in the world...and returning home with us would have brought back too many bad memories. I can’t say I blamed him.

  He carried enough guilt with him as it was. He managed to do all right for himself in Nod, running a farm and eventually marrying a younger sister (like I said, things were different in those days)...but he never got over what he’d done to his brother. He never forgave himself, which I guess was a good thing, because he never committed another murder, either.

  Unfortunately, that isn’t to say that murder ever went out of style.

  I wish I could say it was the last murder I was ever involved with...but you know how people are. I can’t even say it was the last involving a family member, because after all, everyone in the world is a family member of mine.

  Murder, as you know, has become commonplace in our world. Sometimes, I feel guilty about that, as if Adam and I are responsible for the violence of men and women because we were bad parents to mankind. I know we tried our best, but things haven’t turned out all that well, have they?

  Sometimes, when I’m feeling really down--especially when I’ve just seen or heard of the latest atrocity committed by one of my descendants--I think the world might have been better off if Adam and I had crossed the boundary and let the fiery sword decapitate us that day. Or, at least, if we hadn’t had so many children.

  The kids came fast in the years after Abel’s death, that’s for sure. After drifting apart for so long, Adam and I finally came back together, in more ways than one.

  He finally got over his obsession with Eden...more or less...and I finally stopped blaming him for blaming me for getting us thrown out of paradise. We came to love each other more than ever...more than in the Garden even, if you ask me. Maybe because we’d been through something terrible together.

  So I guess maybe one good thing came out of Abel’s murder after all.

  Make that two good things.

  Let’s just say that snakeskin makes a great pair of shoes.

  *****

  Special Preview: Vampire Lords

  By Robert T. Jeschonek

  Now Available from Tsetse Press

  Jonah was drunk, pissed at the world, fresh from his mom and dad's viewing at the funeral home...and he was playing what might have been his best gig ever.

  He had always been good, but he was great that night. He ripped through every song with unusual precision and ferocity. Instead of note-perfect renditions, he brought each solo alive with newfound fire and surprise. He pushed the whole band to a new level, and he could tell they loved it.

  As they drove through one Jethro Tull classic after another, from "Locomotive Breath" to "Thick as a Brick," all four musicians grinned with rare and predatory intensity. It wasn't just a run-of-the-mill gig.

  Too bad hardly anyone was there to see it.

  The bar, a downtown Tucson dive joint called Halcyon, was tiny...and nowhere near full. Not counting the bartender, Jonah didn't see more than ten people in the room at the same time that night.

  But he played for those ten people like he was playing for a full house. Like he was playing with something to prove.

  Something to forget.

  The audience, small as it was, definitely caught the vibe and egged on the band. It was the kind of give-and-take that Jonah thrived on, with band and audience equally focused and serious and unified.

  And some were more focused than others. One, in particular, was focused hard on Jonah.

  She looked twenty-something, with shoulder-length blonde hair and impossibly bright blue eyes. A tight-fitting white tank top and black leather skirt hugged the curves of her perfectly sloped and rounded body.

  If she ever took her eyes off Jonah, he didn't see it happen. She watched every move he made and locked eyes with him every time he looked out at her.

  She didn't seem to be with anyone. She just stood with a bottle of beer in her hand, six feet away from Jonah, dancing to every single song with supple, undulating movements.

  Which, naturally, made him play with even more fire. He had a pretty good idea what might be coming next.

  Sure enough, at the end of the first set, the girl made a beeline for him. With a silent, knowing smile, she wrapped his hand in her own and led him out the back door into the alley outside.

  Then, she closed the door behind them and pinned him against the wall.

  Jonah's heart pounded as she flexed her body against his. Her hands, where they locked his wrists to the wall, were cold, but her gaze was filled with heat.

  "You were amazing in there." Her throaty voice was a purr. "I am so turned on right now."

  "I know the feeling." Jonah grinned. Playing with the band had taken his mind off his troubles a little. Maybe the blonde would take his mind the rest of the way off, if only for a while.

  Without another word, the girl moved in for a kiss. Jonah's heart beat even faster as he finally made the contact he'd been anticipating for so long.

  But the kiss was not quite what he'd expected.

  The girl's lips were freezing cold, as if she'd just eaten ice cream or gone swimming. There wasn't the slightest trace of warmth anywhere in her kiss.

  Jonah pulled back. "Are you chilly?" Even as he asked the question, he couldn't imagine that she could possibly feel cold in that alley. It was a hot desert night in Tucson, probably in the nineties...plus which, heat was rolling off an air conditioning unit in the window a few yards away.

  "Low blood pressure. But we can fix that." The girl moved in for another kiss. Her fingers latched onto his belt buckle.

  "We need you," said the girl.

  We? That was when Jonah realized something wasn't right.

  He suddenly felt much hotter than he thought he should. His lower body, in fact, was quickly becoming uncomfortable, as if he were standing too close to a hot stove.

  Jonah looked down...and immediately wished he hadn't.

  He'd never seen anything like it. Thin streams of blood projected from the tops of his legs--a dozen streams per leg punching right through his clothing. They met in a glistening red veil that hung suspended in midair, rippling mere inches from the girl's face. As Jonah watched, new streams burst from his legs and added their crimson liquid to the veil.

  "What the hell?" said Jonah. "What are you doing?"

  But the girl did not answer.

  Get out of here. Now.

  Jonah was in for another shock when he tried to escape: his hands were stuck to the wall, and his feet were locked to the floor o
f the alley.

  He couldn't move.

  What's going on here?

  Then, it got worse.

  The girl opened her mouth wide, and red filaments reached toward her from the veil. The sinuous filaments twisted and writhed as they flowed between her scarlet lips and over her jet black tongue.

  Black tongue? Black tongue?!? Why didn't I notice that before?

  The girl spoke without closing her mouth. The red filaments splashed against the tip of her tongue when it moved. "How delicious," she said. "I love you."

  She's a vampire! Vampires are real!

  "I'll blow you a kiss," she said, and then she puckered her lips and squirted a flume of blood toward Jonah's face.

  The blood stopped in front of his nose and hung in midair. It curled and contorted and rotated, forming into a gleaming red shape.

  A throbbing cartoon heart the size of a quarter.

  Since when can vampires do this kind of crazy stuff?

  The girl giggled. "Happy birthday, baby," she said. "Wait'll you see what comes next."

  Jonah couldn't take his eyes off the floating cartoon heart. It changed as he watched, twisting and kneading itself into a new shape.

  A skull and crossbones.

  That was when Jonah finally tried to scream. He tried with all his strength to scream as loud as he could.

  And when no sound emerged from his throat, he tried to scream even louder.

  *****

  It was as if someone had heard Jonah's silent cry. Seconds after he tried in vain to scream his head off, the sound of gunfire crackled in the alley.

  Multiple impacts shook the blood-drinking girl and pitched her from her knees to the dusty floor of the alley. As she dropped, so did the veil and filaments of blood. So did the floating skull and crossbones. All of it lost shape immediately and plunged down in one big splatter on the pavement.

  In the same instant, Jonah regained some of the movement in his extremities. His arms and legs still felt heavy and stiff, but at least he could finally change position.