Escaping the Cataclysm

by Keith Robinson

  Accustomed to the sights and sounds of the city, the hired bodyguards kept the group moving. To Rebecca’s dismay, they turned to the left and began heading toward the shops near the Nephilim.

  A sudden shout rang through the air, drawing Rebecca’s attention away from the giants. Following the sound to its source, she saw a crowd of people gathered around a makeshift stage set up not far from where she now walked. On the stage, a man called out to the crowd while gesturing toward a pitiful little girl that stood on a slowly rotating platform to his right. The girl was no more than six years old and wore nothing but a dirty tunic filled with holes and rips. Her hands and feet were bound with chains. White lines streaked down her face where tears had made paths through the dirt that caked her face.

  The sight of the men leering at the child eagerly and waving money in the air was like a punch to Rebecca’s stomach. Doubling over, she tried to breathe. Jeffrey’s firm hands grabbed her from behind and brought her back to her feet. “We have to keep moving,” he whispered in her ear. “Our bodyguards are starting to take an interest in you, as are several bystanders. Be strong, Becky. For all our sakes.”

  Setting her will, Rebecca nodded and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The mercenary leading the group pointed to a building ahead and to the left. Thankful that their trip through the city was nearing its end, Rebecca walked on.

  It was then that she heard the baby’s cry. The sound seemed to carry across the wind through the competing noise of the plaza directly to her, as if calling her name. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and Rebecca lost all sense of her immediate surroundings. The yelling of the vendors, the voice of the auctioneer, and the sounds of the crowds, all faded from her mind. There, near the banks of the river, a woman carried a newborn in her arms. Two men accompanied her, both walking behind her. Fear clutched at Rebecca as she observed the coldness and cruelty in the men’s eyes. The woman, by contrast, wore a blank expression, as if resigned to her course of action.

  The three of them walked to the edge of the riverbank and stopped. Below them, the river foamed and frothed as it angrily crashed against the rocks. The crowds in the plaza continued on with their business, paying no attention to the trio. Yet, to Rebecca, nothing else existed except them.

  Stepping up to the woman, one of the men reached out to take the screaming baby from her arms. Only then did the woman react. Clutching the child to her breast, she began to beg and plead with the man. Callously, the second man backhanded her while the first took the bundle from her hands. The woman collapsed to the ground, sobs wracking her body.

  Dread grew in Rebecca’s heart as the scene unfolded. With painful certainty, she knew what was coming. “No,” she muttered softly. “Oh, God, no!” More than a hundred feet separated Rebecca from the men, and she knew there was nothing she could do. She could never reach them in time. As the man lifted the baby over the rocks, a guttural scream erupted from Rebecca’s body. “NOOOOOO!”

  Unable to watch the actual act unfold, she turned away from the scene and buried her head in Jeffrey’s chest. Somewhere behind her, away from the tragedy by the river, a crowd suddenly erupted in cheers. Although she knew their cheers were completely unrelated to what she had just witnessed, to her overwrought mind, it seemed as if the rejoicing belonged to a host of unseen, foul beings that were relishing a victory. When the cheers died down, Rebecca could no longer hear the baby’s cries.

  “Shut her up!” Goliath hissed from somewhere nearby. Scanning the area, the giant noticed that Rebecca’s shout, while not loud enough to carry across the entire plaza, had still drawn the attention of those standing nearby. “Everyone’s staring at us!”

  Mack and Jerome, who were also still in shock from what they had witnessed, simply stared at Goliath dumbly. Forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the two men still standing by the riverbank, Jeffrey wrapped his arms around Rebecca and tried to comfort her, a solitary tear sliding down his cheek.

  Disturbed by the sudden attention they were receiving, Goliath began pushing the group to get them moving once more. The giant’s actions had the desired effect. Stumbling to remain on their feet, Jerome and Mack realized their danger and moved as quickly as they could toward the building that their guide indicated as their destination. Then, wrapping his large arms around Rebecca, the giant picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack. Shoving Jeffrey, Goliath sent him sprawling onto the ground as he let out an evil sounding laugh.

  Stunned, Jeffrey adjusted his hood, which had fallen over his eyes, then looked up at Goliath in confusion. The giant merely kept laughing, and then headed off toward the building, followed by the two bodyguards who were thoroughly enjoying the ‘joke.’ Anger dissipating his confusion, Jeffrey leapt to his feet and charged after Goliath.

  Seeing the attack, the two mercenaries tensed and gripped their weapons firmly. Waving at them to stand down, Goliath tightened his grip on Rebecca as she began to kick at him. As Jeffrey got closer, the giant took Rebecca off of his shoulder and dropped her unceremoniously to the ground.

  Swearing at Goliath, Jeffrey helped Rebecca to her feet. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” he spat.

  “Saving our lives,” Goliath shot back vehemently.

  Looking around, Jeffrey could see that although many of those who were following the actions of their group were chuckling at his predicament, most had lost interest and had turned their attention back to their own business. Realizing that Goliath had pretended to steal Rebecca from him to explain her outburst, Jeffrey took a deep breath to calm his anger.

  Casting a spiteful look at the giant, Jeffrey put his arm around his wife, who was still stunned by all that had happened, and led her to where Mack and Jerome waited.

  “Is this Arngrim’s shop?” Jeffrey asked softly as he studied the marble building that stood before them.

  “Yes, according to Noah’s map,” Mack replied, matching the volume of Jeffrey’s voice. “What just happened back there?”

  Glancing over his shoulder to see Goliath and the two mercenaries approaching, Jeffrey said curtly, “Nothing. I’ll explain later.”

  As per the initial agreement, the two wolf-like bodyguards planted their spears into the ground near the bottom of the stairs and leaned up against two thick columns to wait for their employers to finish their business.

  Holding Rebecca at arm’s length, Jeffrey studied her face with concern. “Are you going to be okay?”

  Not trusting her voice, Rebecca wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and simply nodded.

  “Okay then. Mack, lead the way,” Jeffrey said, looking up toward the building.

  Arngrim’s shop was one of many that were situated next to each other, with only a narrow, four-foot alleyway between them. Each of the marble buildings was exquisitely constructed, their magnificent facades enhanced by expertly crafted designs and carvings etched into their surfaces. Elegant and sometimes lewd statues of human-like figures stood amongst the columns that held up the roofs of the porches. Brilliant flowers placed in clay pots added color to the grays and whites of the marble, while long green vines snaked their way up the sides of the buildings and columns from small gardens placed in various locations.

  Unlike the other shops, the one that belonged to Noah’s friend didn’t have guards standing out front, or the thick, metal bars on its windows. Also, instead of statues of humans, two hideous gargoyles stared down at Jeffrey and the others. The obsidian eyes of the stone beasts seemed to watch the strangers every move and their toothy maws hung open wide as if waiting to devour anyone who came too close.

  Shivering involuntarily under the statues’ unnerving gaze, Mack mounted the stairs and headed up toward the ornately carved double doors that guarded the entrance to Arngrim’s shop, the others following closely behind him. “Those things remind me of the creepy demon-dogs from Ghostbusters,” he said, trying to keep his nerves under control as they reached the top of the steps. As he continued speakin
g, his eye never strayed from the statues. “I keep expecting to hear the thud of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters as he comes down the street…that stupid grin on his face…”

  His voice trailed off as he approached the gargoyles. To his horror and dismay, he noticed that large, dark, red splotches stained the ground beneath his feet. Swallowing nervously, he passed between the stone sculptures and walked up to the entrance. Through the darkened windows set in the wooden doors, Mack could see signs of movement from within. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand on the door handle, opened it, and stepped inside.

  17

  Arngrim’s Shop and Jerome’s Secret

  The moment the door swung open, the intoxicating fragrance of sweet incense assaulted Mack’s senses. After he had taken no more than two steps into the room, he felt his muscles begin to relax as the pleasant smell infiltrated his body. The tendrils of incense that floated lazily about the room, combined with the filtered sunlight from the darkened windows gave the shop a relaxing and disarming atmosphere.

  The spacious, eighty-foot by eighty-foot-square room was filled with row upon row of wooden shelves, each filled with all manner of objects from everyday items such as parchment and ink, containers filled with an assortment of liquids, and small statues to metal tools, knives, and weapons. A handful of other shoppers, accompanied by their slaves, moved in and about the merchandise, while two fierce-looking Nephilim stood against opposite walls, watching everyone intently. As the newcomers stepped inside and closed the door behind them, one of the giants eyed the group suspiciously, his gaze sweeping over them with interest.

  Along the back wall of the shop, Mack could see a long counter covered with a plush cloth, its deep red fibers adding to the overall relaxing ambience. Standing behind the counter was an eight-foot-tall, thin man dressed in fine robes of purple and silver. Long, silvery hair spilled down the sides of his pale face and rested upon his shoulders, the tips of his pointy ears sticking out from beneath the shimmering locks like stones beneath a river. His eyes, which were too big for his head, were black in color and reminded Mack uncomfortably of a black hole that could suck a person’s soul out of his body just by looking at them.

  Behind him, Mack heard Jerome whisper, “It looks like one of those Blood Drinkers! Be careful, Mack.” Agreeing with Jerome’s assessment of the man, he nodded and kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.

  As Mack and his companions approached the desk, the man finished his business with another customer, then turned his dark eyes toward them. The shrewdness of the man’s scrutinizing gaze gave Mack the feeling that he could read his thoughts. A cold sweat broke out on Mack’s brow as he realized with certainty that, whether due to the incense or some power that the man held, it would be impossible to lie to him. When the man spoke, his melodious tenor voice rose and lowered soothingly. “Welcome, honored guests. Can I interest you in one of our fine new blades? All have the ability to send a current of electricity down the blade, shocking your enemy. One slice cuts twice as deeply as a normal blow and makes your foe writhe in pain for several seconds.”

  Mack shook his head, both to decline the offer and to try to rid his brain of the fogginess brought on by the incense. “We…are you…are you Arngrim?” he managed at last.

  The man raised one eyebrow and his smile dipped momentarily. “Alas, no. My name is Vidarr. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Mack glanced back at his friends and received a reassuring nod from Rebecca, who smiled back at him, then pulled her hood lower, covering most of her face. Goliath, though appearing relaxed and focused on examining a large metal tool of some kind, was actually keeping a close eye on the Nephilim, while Jeffrey and Jerome were standing close by, their eyes scanning the room for signs of danger.

  Turning back around, Mack addressed Vidarr once more. “No…no thank you. Would you be able to tell me where we might find him? It is of utmost importance.”

  Although the man smiled, his black eyes and pale complexion made the expression appear anything but friendly. “I’m sure it is. However, Lord Arngrim is not to be disturbed. Perhaps if you would like to leave a message for him, I will see to it that he gets it. You can expect a reply within a week or so.”

  It took a moment for Vidarr’s words to penetrate Mack’s muddy thoughts. “No,” he said slowly, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. “No, that won’t work. A week is…a week is too long. The Flood comes tomorrow…”

  Vidarr frowned at Mack’s last statement. “The Flood?” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Surely you can’t mean the Flood predicted by that fool, Noah.”

  Realizing his mistake, Mack tried to salvage the situation. “No, no, of course not. I…I…my house might get flooded, and…and I need Arngrim to help me.”

  Vidarr nodded slightly and the two Nephilim approached. Turning to face them, Goliath drew his sword. The enormous beings simply laughed. Their twelve-foot height made Goliath look small and insignificant, and there was no doubt in Mack’s mind that he wouldn’t stand a chance if it came to blows.

  “Wait!” Mack called out. “There’s…there’s no need for violence! We were just leaving.”

  A sudden flash of light flew past Mack’s ear and struck Goliath in the back. Immediately, the holographic image surrounding the giant flickered once, but remained in place. Fortunately, the dim light and smoke in the room must have prevented Vidarr or the Nephilim from noticing the brief change in the giant’s appearance. Goliath’s body began to convulse wildly, and a second later, he crashed to the ground.

  Mack whirled around too quickly and nearly lost his balance, his body still under the influence of the strange incense. When he recovered himself, he saw that Vidarr was staring at him, a wicked-looking device resembling a kind of wand in his hand. Looking out at the rest of his customers, who were staring in interest at the confrontation, he called out, “The shop’s closed. Come back in thirty minutes.”

  One of the Nephilim herded the patrons out the door, then shut and locked it behind them. With the store now empty, Vidarr focused on Rebecca and the others, who were still rooted to the floor.

  “Now, let’s start over,” he said without smiling. “Remove your hoods.”

  Mack did as he was instructed and wordlessly indicated that the others were to do the same. Vidarr stared at them curiously for what seemed like an eternity. “Who are you? You do not appear to have any enhancements, yet you are not of Noah’s family. Where do you come from? And do not try to lie, for I will know if you do.”

  Fear began to grip Mack’s heart. Seeing her friend’s growing terror, Rebecca reached over and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “God is with us,” she whispered.

  Wiping sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his robe, Mack closed his eyes and fought to gather his courage. Regaining a semblance of calm, he opened them once again as he responded to Vidarr’s questions, careful to keep his voice from shaking. “Forgive us. But we are from Noah’s family. However, we are not from around here. We came to seek Arngrim’s help. That is all.”

  “And who is that?” Vidarr said, pointing toward Goliath. “His sword looks like one of our designs. How did he get it? We do not sell our technology to just anyone.”

  Mack stuttered, praying that he would be able to talk their way out of this. “Our…our r-r-relative, Noah, is friends with Lord Arngrim. I-I-I’m sure you’re aware that he helped Noah construct the Ark.”

  The man nodded slightly and gestured for Mack to continue.

  “We…hired this one to be our bodyguard,” Mack said, pointing toward Goliath. “We don’t know who made the sword, but he got it from one of Noah’s relatives.”

  Goliath began to stir, causing the Nephilim to tense slightly, their eyes looking eagerly at the ‘giant’ as if hoping for a fight. Vidarr studied Mack, while Rebecca, Jeffrey, and Jerome stood silently next to him, wishing they could understand what was being said.

  Making up his mind, Vidarr addressed the Nephilim. “T
ake the sword and bring it to me.” The Nephilim did as requested, laying the sword that Goliath had taken from Nimrod on the counter. Running a hand down the blade lovingly, as if caressing a lover, Vidarr examined the craftsmanship of the blade. “Yes…although it is not as fine as one of our own, it will bring a good price.”

  Turning his attention back to Mack, he stared coldly at him. “Lord Arngrim is finishing a special project that requires his full attention, which is why he left the running of the shop to me. He is in Valhalla, and I am not certain when he will return. I will pass on word to Lord Arngrim that you were trying to contact him. If he wishes to see you, he will look for you at Noah’s residence. Now, the Jotun,” he said, indicating the two Nephilim, “will escort you out of the shop. I will consider the sword payment for the delivery of your message.”

  The words seemed to strike Mack like a physical blow. “No. We…we can’t wait! We have to see Arngrim NOW!”

  Vidarr’s large black eyes grew even wider in anger. “You will not dictate to me what to do! You will leave now, or you will become test subjects for my new technology. If it were not for the fact that Lord Arngrim was a friend of your relative, you would already be screaming for death in my workshop. Now get out of here!”

  Stunned, Mack turned and stumbled toward the door. Not understanding what had transpired, but not liking the results of the conversation, Jeffrey, Jerome, and Rebecca all followed quickly after him, fear gripping them tightly. A Naphil picked up Goliath, who was just regaining consciousness and shoved him toward the door. Once outside, the Naphil threw Goliath toward the steps. Still groggy from the attack, he fell and rolled down the steps into the street. Laughing uproariously, the two Nephilim headed back inside and shut the door.