Jerome, Mack, and Jeffrey halted their charge at the sight of the men. Suddenly, to their great surprise, beams of energy lanced out from the swords in the vandals’ hands, narrowly missing the newcomer’s heads. Instantly reacting to the attack, Jeffrey dove to his right while Mack and Jerome dove to their left, each of them using the granite fence as a shield.
“Great!” Jerome called out sarcastically. “It looks like their swords can do the same trick as Nimrod’s!”
“Now whatta we do?” Mack asked.
“Jerome, toss me the other end of the levitation device,” Jeffrey said.
“There’s no time! Here they come!”
The five men, now seeing their attackers taking up positions on each side of the open gate, slowed their advance, unknowingly positioning themselves as easy targets for Goliath and Rebecca.
“NOW!” Goliath called.
As one, he and Rebecca let loose with a coordinated attack. Two of the men fell immediately, while the remaining three spun around in an effort to locate the source of this new attack. Just as their gaze fixed upon Rebecca and Goliath, a second volley of shots dropped two more of them.
The remaining man sprinted toward the opening to escape from the ranged attacks only to be felled by a well-placed blow from Jerome’s club as soon as he came around the edge of the wall. At once, Jeffrey, Mack, and Jerome threw down their primitive clubs and grabbed the swords out of the hands of the downed men.
“Look!” Mack called out as the three of them ran to join Rebecca and Goliath. While their companions had been fighting the newcomers, the rest of the vandals had been busy piling up any debris they could find that would burn near the stern of the Ark.
“How did they get so much piled up so quickly?” Rebecca wondered aloud.
“Rebecca, Mack, and Jerome—take out the four on the left, we’ll handle the three on the right,” Goliath commanded. “Keep low to the ground and use the stumps for cover.”
The instant the travelers began to fan out and make their way forward, they heard a cry of warning from one of the vandals. Five of the men immediately dropped what they were doing and turned to face the attack, leaving just two gang members to finish the job of stacking up the combustible material.
Combatants on both sides of the battle sought cover among the debris and stumps. A moment later, bolts of white energy and small cracks like thunder split the evening air. The flashes of light joined with the deep orange of the burning buildings and the purplish-red of the setting sun to create a kaleidoscope of color, all under a covering of thick black smoke that was beginning to blot out the sky.
For several seconds, neither side gave ground, causing Rebecca to fear that they would not be able to stop the vandals in time. Her fear was increased a moment later when she saw the two men closest to the Ark set fire to the brush pile they had created.
“Cover me!” Rebecca yelled to Mack and Jerome as she leapt out from behind her cover and began running left toward the mound that led to the entrance of the Ark, hoping to be able to flank her attackers. Blazing white energy bolts flashed all around her, narrowly missing. Reaching the mound, she dove behind a crate to catch her breath. Peering around the corner of the wooden box, she was encouraged to see that Goliath had mimicked her maneuver and had worked his way to the right, thus trapping the gang of vandals between their own rapidly increasing bonfire and the attackers.
As Rebecca added her laser to the deadly light show, she heard a cry of pain come from Jerome. Watching in horror, she saw his body jerk backward and fall out of sight behind one of the large tree stumps.
“JEROME! Oh God, help us!” she prayed fervently. “Lord, we need you. Please—”
From behind another crate near her own, a figure rose up and knocked Rebecca onto her back, sending her pistol flying from her grasp. Reacting on instinct, she reached up just in time to keep the blade in her attacker’s hand from piercing her heart. As she fought to turn the blade aside, Rebecca got her first glimpse of her assailant.
The face that stared down at her nearly caused her to lose the battle for control of the dagger. Under normal lighting conditions, the features would have been frightening enough. Yet, the reflection of the fire and the strobe-light effect from the energy blasts made the young man’s face seem demonic.
Although he appeared to be no more than thirteen years old, his body was already over seven feet tall and very muscular. The tips of his ears were pointed, and his nose was flattened against his face. As he sneered, she could see razor sharp teeth and two large fangs hiding behind his cracked lips. The jet-black hair that crowned his head was pulled back into a tight ponytail and encircled by a matching headband bearing the symbol of fangs dripping blood. Even in the approaching darkness of night, she could tell that his skin was thin and appeared almost transparent. However, more disturbing than anything were his eyes. For in them, she saw a lust and desire for evil that rivaled anything she could ever have imagined in her worst nightmare. If this being had once had a soul, it had been lost long ago.
Leering down at her, the aberration grinned wickedly, fully revealing his fangs. Summoning all of her strength, she brought her leg up and rolled her body with the kick. Her leg connected with her attacker’s body, knocking him off balance. Nimble as a cat, the vampire-like man quickly regained his feet and lunged at her once more.
Looking around desperately for her gun, she noticed a discarded hammer half buried under a wooden plank. Diving toward it, she grabbed the handle in her right hand and yanked it out just as the man drove his dagger into the plank, barely missing her arm.
Crying out in fear and rage, Rebecca twisted her body and swung the hammer at the man, but he moved quicker than she would have imagined. Ducking under her swing, he threw his body into hers, knocking the wind out of her. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and knowing that she would feel the bite of the vandal’s blade—or teeth—at any second.
Suddenly, from somewhere behind her came the unmistakable twang of a bowstring. The man that had been attacking her let out a garbled cry as an arrow pierced his chest. Before the body had even hit the ground, several more twangs sounded and the air around her was alive with more of the deadly shafts.
As the breath came back into her body, she looked up to see that all of the remaining gang members lay dead or dying. Rising slowly to her feet, Rebecca turned around and froze at the sight of her rescuers. Standing just outside the open doorway of the Ark, bows in hand, stood Noah and his three sons.
5
The Invitation
Before the last of the gang members had slumped to the ground, Noah and two of his sons dropped their bows and ran toward the growing bonfire, while the fourth man held an arrow to his string and kept it pointed in the direction of Rebecca’s companions. Approaching the bodies of the vandals closest to the fire, Noah and his sons reached down and grabbed some kind of objects from their hands. Darting over to stand next to the Ark, they pointed the newly acquired devices toward the blaze. Then, to Rebecca’s surprise, a circular disc about three feet in diameter sprang into existence in front of each of the men and began moving away from them, pushing the burning materials past the stern of the ship and into the clearing. Although she had seen gravity-control technology used in the Tower of Babel to lift objects, she found it odd that these creatures would have access to that technology and that it could be used to push objects laterally.
With the bulk of the bonfire moved away from the Ark, the three men turned their attention to removing any smaller pieces of burning debris that still clung to the sides of the ship and inspected it for damage. Satisfied that no damage had been done to the hull, Noah and his sons heaved sighs of relief as they turned to survey the rest of the area.
Several soft gasps could be heard coming from the entrance to the ship, causing Rebecca and the fourth man still holding his bow to spin around. Standing in the doorway were four women, their gaze riveted to the sight of the burning buildings on the other side of th
e massive stone fence.
The archer spoke brusquely to the women, then immediately went back to guarding the strange newcomers. The three younger women were attempting to comfort the older, dark-haired woman, whom Rebecca now recognized as Noah’s wife. After a few moments, the younger women led her back into the interior of the Ark.
The immediate threat having been removed, Rebecca suddenly remembered Jerome. Despite her desire to rush over to him, she forced herself to stand slowly, so as not to startle the bowman guarding her. Holding her hands in the air, she looked directly at him and hoped that the expression on her face would be sufficient to convey her intentions. It appeared to be enough, for as she walked toward Jerome’s position, the archer merely tracked her movements with his eyes, but did not aim directly at her. Finally deciding that the unknown visitors were not the perpetrators of the vandalism, the man with the bow relaxed and lowered his weapon, allowing Rebecca to focus on finding and helping her friends.
As she neared the stump that Jerome had been using for cover, she saw Jeffrey, Mack, and Goliath rise slowly from their own concealed positions, their weapons held loosely at their sides. Rounding the edge of the stump, she nearly collapsed with relief.
“Hey, Becky,” he said with a painful grin from where he lay on his back, “what happened? Did we win?”
“Yes, we did,” she said. Kneeling down beside him, she removed his left hand from his right shoulder and began examining the wound. “You were lucky, tough guy. It hit your collarbone. A couple inches more to your left and you’d have a new hole in your neck.”
As he returned her stare, the lines on his forehead creased. Rebecca felt a lump rise in her throat at the raw emotion she saw in his features. “It looks like maybe Someone was looking out for me,” he said, his voice cracking as he spoke. In the fading light of the sun, she saw moisture begin to fill his eyes. Fighting back her own tears, she simply nodded in reply.
Sensing the approach of someone behind her, she turned to see one of Noah’s three sons striding over to her. The six-and-a-half-foot-tall man appeared to be in his late twenties, yet his eyes seemed to hold the wisdom of a man much older. His wavy brown hair and short, trimmed beard and mustache accented his handsome features. The finely wrought, gray robe with gold trim that hung from his shoulders was cinched at his waist with a simple, yet beautifully-crafted crimson belt. Although the robe was loose-fitting, Rebecca could tell by the size of his arms and calves that his body was toned and muscular and was accustomed to hard, physical labor. As she studied him, she couldn’t help but draw a connection between him and the warrior Nimrod that they had encountered on their incursion to the Tower of Babel. However, where the other’s face had been hard and cruel, this man exuded trust and empathy.
Speaking a few words in his own language, he bent down and indicated that he would like to help Jerome to his feet. At the sight of the large man, uncertainty spread over Jerome’s features. Laying a reassuring hand on her friend’s arm, Rebecca said, “It’s okay. This is one of Noah’s sons.”
At the sound of Rebecca’s words, the man cast a strange look at her, as if he was questioning her sanity. Despite his sudden wariness, he reached down and helped Jerome to his feet.
As he walked between the man and Rebecca, Jerome whispered in her ear, “He looks a little bit like Nimrod, don’t ya think?”
“Well, considering that he’s either Nimrod’s grandfather or granduncle, that doesn’t surprise me,” Rebecca replied.
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t think of that,” Jerome said, wincing in pain as the three of them headed over to where the others had gathered. While one of Noah’s sons had been helping her and Jerome, one of the other men checked the gate, searching for signs of damage. The third son, along with Noah himself, had rounded up the remainder of Rebecca’s companions and stood near the side of the Ark, waiting for the rest to join them. As she and Jerome approached the group, Rebecca looked toward the entrance of the ship for signs of the women. However, the warning from Noah’s son had been enough to keep them from venturing back to the ship’s door.
Although her rescuers no longer held bows in their hands, the posture of the four men left no doubt in Rebecca’s mind that they were still wary of the newcomers. She also observed that they had gathered together the bows that they had discarded in order to fight the fire, all of the weapons that Jeffrey and the others had “borrowed” from the gang members, as well as her own laser pistol and placed them near the door of the Ark.
Standing before this much younger Noah, Rebecca was surprised at how tall he seemed. She also caught herself staring at the physical strength he obviously possessed. Instead of his thin frame, light skin, and gray hair that he possessed as an old man, he now had thick muscles, dark, bronzed skin, and a full head of golden hair streaked through with veins of silver. Like the older version of himself, his shoulder length hair was pulled back into a ponytail that reached down to the base of his neck. His beard, however, which also displayed slivers of silver hairs, was not as long as when Rebecca had last seen him.
Despite the fact that each of the three younger men shared the same father, Rebecca was surprised by their differences. While the one that assisted Jerome had brown, wavy hair, one of his brothers had reddish-blond, curly hair and light skin, and the tallest of the three had black, straight hair and darker skin. The men all wore robes similar to the one which their brother was wearing, each beautifully made despite their simple design.
Once Noah was convinced that all immediate concerns had been taken care of, he turned to Rebecca and the others and, in similar fashion to their previous meeting, began examining each of them in turn. An odd sense of déjà vu settled over Rebecca as he studied them. As before, he looked at each of them briefly before stopping in front of her, his expression becoming suddenly filled with surprise.
Still standing before Rebecca, he spoke, his eyes boring into her soul. Glancing over to Mack, she found him focused on their host, completely oblivious to the fact that she needed his help. Seeing her turn to look at him, he suddenly remembered, and after a brief apology, he began to translate Noah’s words. “Who are you, and why are you here?”
Based on the group’s past experience and their current urgent situation, Rebecca decided to try the direct approach. “Mighty Noah, favored servant of the Most High God, blessed be His Name, we come seeking your help. I am Rebecca Evans. My companions and I are travelers from far in the future, brought here unwillingly in a machine we believe was built by someone here in the past. The machine is no longer working properly and we are hoping that you may be able to fix it, or know someone who can fix it. Most of us do not speak your language because…” she paused, wondering for the first time if they might not be irrevocably altering history by their very presence here. Deciding not to reveal too much in her explanation, she continued, “…because in our time, language has changed greatly, and only my friend, Mack, now speaks the original Language of Eden.”
As Mack translated, Rebecca noticed that although Noah’s expression remained curious and unchanging, his sons glanced at each other, their faces a mixture of wonder, mistrust, and confusion. When her host didn’t respond, she continued. “It is the greatest honor of my life to meet all of you. These are my companions: Mack, Jerome, Goliath, and Jeffrey,” she said, taking a bit of twisted pleasure in introducing her husband after the giant. Judging by the look on Jeffrey’s face, he didn’t appreciate the slight.
After a moment of processing her reply, the Patriarch responded. “These are my three sons. This is my eldest son, Shem,” he said, lifting his hand to indicate the man with the curly blond hair as Mack translated his words, “my second son, Japheth, was the one who assisted your injured friend, and this is my youngest, Ham,” he finished, pointing at the tall youth with the straight black hair. “I see that you have the Spirit of God, may He be eternally glorified, residing in you, yet your friends do not. Can you vouch for their intentions?”
“Yes,” Rebecca said emph
atically.
“Then you are welcome,” Noah stated. Although his physical stance relaxed, she could tell that his sons were not as quick to welcome these strangers. Ham leaned forward and whispered briefly to his father. Without even turning to face his son, Noah simply spoke a couple of words and his son backed off, clearly not happy with his father’s decision.
“My son, Ham, worries that this gang may have others working with them,” Noah continued. “We need to remove their bodies from here, and secure this area. It appears that somehow, this group obtained the key to our gate. We must change the lock before anyone else tries to destroy the Ark. If you would pardon my sons, they will attend to this matter while we discuss things further.”
Before Mack had even finished translating his words, Noah’s three sons began using the newly acquired gravity devices to push the bodies toward the gate, in much the same fashion that they had used the devices to move the burning materials.
Turning his attention back to his guests, Noah smiled widely. “I wish to express my gratitude to you and your companions for your timely intervention. I am forever amazed at my Protector’s infinite wisdom and power. For surely He brought you across space and time to arrive at precisely the right moment to prevent this group from destroying His Ark of salvation. We thank Him, and you, for your intervention.”
As Mack translated the words, his own astonishment was reflected in his voice and expression. “That’s just freaky!” he exclaimed. “I mean, what are the odds? If we had showed up even just a couple of minutes later…”
“Yes, Mack,” Rebecca replied, her own mind reeling from the implications. Then, turning to Jeffrey, her face became suddenly smug. “You said you wanted to see God rescue His Ark, well, now you have.”
Escaping the Cataclysm Page 5
