Army of God

by Dennis Bailey

  In the darkness and pouring rain, women and soldiers ran back and forth across the plateau, their feet splashing in water up to their ankles. He could barely see, but the thunder of the waves striking just below told him what was feeding the shallow lake they walked in.

  He stopped four soldiers passing by in opposite directions. “Find your captains. Tell them to meet me here in front of my tent immediately. We need to get ahead of this panic.”

  “Yes sir.” They hurried away.

  Shechem headed for Malluch’s tent directly behind him, but was interrupted by a woman’s scream coming from his left. He wheeled to find her seated in the water a short distance away with the corpse of a man lying across her lap. “Get it off,” she said. “Get it off me.” He charged over and dragged the body off, then helped the woman up. She ran off crying in the dark, careful to avoid the other bodies floating in her path.

  “What’s happened, Commander?” Malluch said, splashing toward him. “Where’s all this water coming from?”

  He pointed to where white waves continued to beat against the edge of the grade. “I knew we should have broken camp after last night’s—” he fumbled for a suitable word. “Last night’s exercise. But my men were exhausted, and your advisors assured us we’d be safe here for another night. Looks like they miscalculated.”

  “And the bodies? I thought your men were supposed to dispose of them in the sea.”

  “And so they did, my lord. But with nearly eight thousand of them, some were bound to float.”

  “When we make it out of here, my advisors will wish they were among them. What’s your plan, Commander?”

  “My captains are meeting me here.” He pointed up to several passes leading up the mountain. “As soon as the tents are down, we’ll begin moving everyone up to higher ground.”

  “Good. My guards are—”

  Shechem shot his hand up. “Do you hear that?”

  Both men whirled around to the rushing sound behind them. They were bowled over by a wave of water and corpses washing across the plateau. The torrent flattened most of the tents, including all in Malluch’s party. Shechem screamed, adding his voice to all the others being carried away by the wave passing through the camp.

  Chapter 67

  Noah didn’t know why he was awake. It had been a long day, and he was tired. Since they’d been launched upon the waters, most nights the billows rocked him to sleep the way his mother used to. Not so tonight.

  Earlier, he’d heard Ariel and Shiphrah walking the decks. He decided to get up and join them.

  On his way toward the rear of the ark, he and the lioness peeked into Shem and Ariel’s quarters. Shem lay alone on the floor, snoring louder than the elephants below. Poor girl. No wonder she’s up walking half the night.

  Nearing the stern, he caught sight of a single figure in the reduced lighting coming toward him. “Out by yourself this evening, daughter?”

  “Ariel said she was tired and going to bed,” Shiphrah said. “I was just saying goodnight to some of our passengers.”

  “How long ago did Ariel leave you?”

  “About half an hour.”

  “Well, I just checked on her quarters, and she wasn’t there. We’d better try to find her. Why don’t you check below and I’ll look on the top deck?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  The three walked briskly together toward the front of the ship, parting at the landing where the ramps lead up and down. Noah headed directly for the stairs that provided access to the window, but finding it secured, he moved on to search the remainder of the top deck. Shiphrah’s cry sent him and the lioness running for the down ramp on the opposite side. “Ariel, No!”

  He reached the bottom of the ramp to find Ariel standing on the far side of the access door trying to pry it open with a lance. Behind her, Shiphrah ran toward her along the walkway.

  Ariel glanced behind at her charging sister-in-law, then back to him. She threw all her weight against the shaft of the spear, breaking the seal. The door burst open just as Shiphrah reached her, the rushing waters knocking the two women off their feet and sending them sprawling across the deck. Noah yelled for help when the force of the flailing door struck him, pushing him against the inside hull.

  It took about nine parts for Shem, Ham, Miryam, and the male lion to arrive. Noah’s family took a position against the door beside him and together the four managed to push it about halfway closed. Standing off to the side, the two lions watched the wind and water continue to pour in through the gaping entrance. “Where’s your brother?” Noah groaned.

  “He was down below.” Ham said.

  “Japheth! Get up here. Hurry!”

  Japheth and Elisheva appeared on the walkway opposite them through the translucent spray washing in.

  “Son, you have to go around.”

  “There isn’t time.” He motioned for Elisheva to go around, then backed up a dozen paces. He ran toward the doorway and attempted to leap across the threshold. Just then another wave poured water in through the door, catching his body in midair and driving it across the deck. He was stopped when his head struck the bottom of one of the stanchions.

  Shiphrah and Ariel scrambled to their feet and, with an arriving Elisheva, fought against the flow of rushing water to reach Japheth. Elisheva kneeled and raised her husband’s head onto her lap.

  “How is he?” Noah said.

  “Unconscious,” Elisheva said.

  The rest of the family was losing ground, the force of the water inching the door back against them. “Father,” Shem said, straining. “If we don’t get this door closed in a hurry, the ark is going to flood.”

  “You have to rouse him,” Noah said.

  Elisheva slapped his face, gently at first, then harder. “Japheth. Wake up. You’ve got to wake up.”

  “Put some water in his nose.”

  Elisheva’s eyes widened in disbelief “What!”

  “Put some water in your hand and drip it down into his nose.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quickly!”

  Elisheva reached for the water and followed Noah’s instructions. At once, Japheth gagged and coughed.

  “That’s enough. Now turn his head to the side so he can get the water out.”

  Elisheva turned his face into her lap, and he continued to cough. After a few parts, he lifted his head and gasped heavily, trying to gain his bearings. Seeing his father and the others, he stumbled to the opposite walkway out of sight.

  A moment later, he came up behind them. “Excuse me, Mother.” He gently moved her out of the way to take her place on the door.

  His height allowed him to throw his shoulder against the highest part of the door, while his father and siblings assumed positions beside and beneath him. Slowly the door closed, choking off the flow of incoming water. The four let out a collective grunt, slamming the door and securing it against the far doorpost.

  Shem and Ham comforted their wives, while Japheth touched the back of his head impacted by the stanchion. A small amount of blood stained his fingers. “What happened?”

  He and the rest of the family looked to Noah, Shiphrah, and Ariel for an answer, but no one spoke. Ariel sobbed into her hands.

  “Well?” Japheth said.

  Ariel mumbled something unintelligible through her fingers.

  “What did she say?” he said to Shiphrah standing next to her.

  “It was me,” Ariel said. “I opened the door.”

  The two brothers descended upon her. “What?” Japheth said. He towered over her, hands on hips.

  “Are you crazy?” Ham said.

  Miryam eyed her youngest sharply. “Ham.”

  “But Mother. She could have killed us all.”

  Miryam spun to her husband seeking support.

  “Unfortunately, he’s not wrong,” Noah said. “This could have been a disaster.”

  “I tried to tell you,” Ariel said. “For weeks I tried. I told you I was going crazy in here and
begged you to let me go. But you wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t take it any more.”

  Red-faced with anger, Japheth took two steps toward her before turning back to Noah. “Let her go, Father.”

  Miryam grabbed her son by the upper arm. “Japheth, no!”

  Shem started toward him, but was restrained by Ariel. Japheth pivoted to his brother. “I’m sorry Shem, but maybe Ariel’s right. We should have listened to her.”

  “That’s your brother’s wife you’re talking about,” Miryam said.

  “Yes, Mother. But being our brother’s wife doesn’t absolve her of responsibility for the rest of us. Next time we might not be so lucky. What if she sneaks up here again?”

  Shiphrah rose up like the female bear in the hold below, pushing her chest into Japheth’s stomach, neck craned back to address him. “Who are you to say ‘let her go’?” She began poking her finger into his sternum, pushing him back a little with each poke. “Have you no compassion? You’ve seen what Ariel has been through since we’ve been locked in here. How would you feel if someone said to let Elisheva go?” She glared at Ham. “Or me?”

  When she was done, Shiphrah had backed Japheth halfway across the deck. His mouth hung open, and the redness of anger had been replaced by a blush of shame. “Well, I don’t know what else to do.” His voice roared. “We can’t watch her every hour of the day.”

  “Can’t we?” Miryam said. “We can do what you men did when the ark was being vandalized. Shiphrah, Elisheva, and I will take turns standing watch at night. If Ariel gets anxious and feels the need for a walk after dark, one of us will be there to go with her. Just like Shiphrah’s been doing during the day.”

  “Father?” Japheth said.

  “I think your mother has the ideal solution,” Noah said.

  Japheth winced and reached to touch the back of his head again. “What now?”

  “I’d say we’d better see how much water we’ve got to bail out of here.”

  “Somebody want to take a look at this first and tell me how bad it is?”

  Elisheva and Shiphrah turned their backs to join the rest of the family moving toward the down ramp, leaving Ham alone to examine his brother’s head wound. “All right, so I’m a scoundrel,” Japheth hollered after them.

  Chapter 68

  So this is what it’s like to be on an island. Shechem trembled in the frigid altitude and rain from one of the last visible mountaintops on earth. He estimated no more than a hundred cubits separated the top of the roughly twenty-acre peak from the rising waters below.

  After thirty-five days, he, Claudia, Malluch, and another man with a wife and two sons had ended up on the same piece of limestone. Other refugees from Eden populated similar summits across the mountain range.

  The flood in the camp had scattered both the living and the dead across the plateau. He and Malluch had been swept to one end of the elevation, and his betrayer’s family to the other. During his search for Claudia, he caught sight of Malluch’s son leading his wife and mother to safety up one of the other passes.

  The majority of his army had suffered the same fate as the people they’d murdered. Those that hadn’t been washed away by the flood turned their swords on each other when quarrels erupted over space on the mountain. Even Shechem was forced to kill some of his own men in self defense.

  Of the more than forty thousand people left in Eden at the time of their departure, he guessed fewer than two hundred had survived to reach the peaks.

  Now these few vestiges of rock were all that was left for any of them.

  And the birds. Thousands of birds.

  Though the last of the terrestrial animals had perished more than a week ago, the gift of flight had granted the birds a reprieve. Now they covered the mountains and filled the skies above them. So dense was their number on land, he and his party could barely take a step without displacing one of them.

  But he wasn’t focused on either the birds or the sea. The only thing he cared about now was how much time he had left to exact his revenge. Any previous notion he might have been mistaken about his wife and Malluch had been dispelled during the last few weeks. The looks he’d seen them exchange when they thought he wasn’t watching said it all. If the Preacher’s God was truly behind the flood, He would have to wait His turn.

  Windswept waves crashed against the bottom of the mountaintop, splashing his feet and the hem of his tunic. He signaled to his wife beside him and to Malluch a few cubits above. “Time to move again.”

  The father of the family examined the surface of the cliff. “Too steep. We’ll try the other side.”

  Shechem nodded, watching until they disappeared around the edge of the peak. He, Claudia, and Malluch started up the irregular surface of the crag. Although sharp, the slope offered numerous spurs and clefts to cling to. The governor would negotiate a half dozen cubits, then wait for him and Claudia. Despite the driving rain and ubiquitous birds, they succeeded in climbing two thirds of the rock face in less than 270 parts.

  Nearing the top, Malluch brushed aside a seagull on a small ledge above him and kicked away a pair of crows occupying his next foothold. He went to pull himself up to the next rock but failed to notice the returning gull, which landed on his wrist and began biting his hand.

  He attempted to shake off the bird but lost his footing and started sliding down the peak. He and Claudia screamed, but Shechem took a long stride to his right and lunged to catch him. Their right hands slapped against each other’s forearm before locking grips, the scarred flesh of Malluch’s fingers closing around his wrist. His betrayer hung suspended in midair, kicking to gain a foothold against the slippery precipice.

  At that instant, Shechem realized this was the moment he’d waited for the time providence had reserved just for him. He entered a dream world. His hearing faded, so that he could barely hear the storm or Claudia’s repeated refrain of, “Pull him up! Pull him up!” What he could hear was the sound of his own beating heart. But instead of it racing at the excitement of the moment, his heartbeat slowed and calmness overtook him.

  He glared into Malluch’s bulging eyeballs and ashen grimace, then turned to Claudia. Her eyes held the same panicked expression.

  Without looking back at him, Shechem let go.

  Claudia’s shriek brought him out of the trance. “Malluch! No!” She screamed and reached after his falling body.

  Shechem moved toward her along the rocks, grabbed her by the back of the neck, and drew her in close. “Harlot!” He forced her to look at the body floating face down in the water. “Your lover awaits.”

  He pushed her off the mount, her scream fading as she plummeted to the sea.

  He stood there for eighteen parts, surprised at how close his wife’s body floated next to Malluch’s. Over and over, the waves slammed their limp corpses against the rocky base of the mountain.

  He scaled the remaining distance to the top, then marched through a blanket of birds to the other side to search for the others. The father had been right: The slope on that side of the mountain was less steep. He and his family had made it up about two thirds of the way. Shechem waited to help them up the last few cubits. When he stepped onto the crest, the father scanned the summit. “Where’s Malluch?” he said. “And your wife?”

  In a faux display of sorrow, Shechem dropped his head. “You were right. It was too steep.”

  The father placed his hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Commander.”

  He nodded slowly, biting his tongue to keep a smile from appearing.

  With daylight fading, he, the family, and about ten thousand birds huddled together under the pounding rains to batten down for the night. Between the five of them, he estimated they had food enough to last for another week.

  But he doubted they would have need of it.

  * * *

  Sometime after noon on the third day, Shechem sat by himself on a ledge staring into the deep. It was a sea he could almost touch, and when the waves hit just right against the rocks
, the water touched him. It reminded him of the speed and power of the Eden River and a time when he’d gone there to cry Elisheva out of his system. How ironic to have once risked his life in those waters, only to be trapped by these.

  Surely by now, she would be safe inside the ark. It was the only thing left that brought him any sense of comfort. That, and the knowledge she would remember him the way they’d been in their youth. In a moment of desperate romanticism, he dreamed of catching a glimpse of the ark passing by that he might wave good-bye.

  Yesterday, he and his companions awoke to less than ten cubits separating them from the waters below. Meanwhile, the last of the bird population was being decimated. Unable either to remain aloft or to find a place to roost on the shrinking mountaintops, they crashed, exhausted, into the sea.

  But the rising waters and expiring bird numbers only portended of things to come. The mount they were on had become unstable, shaking violently several times over the past three days. They didn’t have much time left before the sea would rise or the mountain would fall.

  Shechem rose to his feet on the ledge for a better look at an image appearing in the distance. He shielded his brow from the rain while straining to make out what he hoped might be the ark. After a few moments he laughed out loud, realizing it was just the shape of a dark cloud on the horizon.

  He stared at the last representatives of humanity dotting mountaintops to the north and south. He comforted himself with the thought his daughters might be among them.

  Then the ground began to shake.

  At the other end of the summit, the man’s wife screamed while the family struggled to cling together against the power of the quake. The ground broke apart beneath his feet, followed by a wave that lifted him up and sideways before pushing him under the water.

  He let the wave take him to its chosen depth before beginning his kick back to the surface, which took him longer than he expected. When he arrived, the family and the mountaintop were gone.