by Bill Myers
Ryan and Little Creek were building a fire in the middle of a large, open cavern. The flames came to life, lighting the cavern and creating dancing shadows on the walls. Becka watched as Little Creek took a small flask out of his bag and handed it to Ryan. “Are you sure you want to take it again so close to the last time?”
Ryan nodded and silently reached for the flask. He unscrewed the lid, tilted his head back, and drank. When he finished, he handed the flask to Little Creek and asked, “Will you stay?”
The Indian shook his head. “It is your time,” he said almost reverently. “I will go, but I will leave the light.”
Ryan gave a single nod. “Thank you, my brother.”
Little Creek turned and headed back out of the cavern, toward Becka. She pressed herself flat against the opposite wall as the boy approached. Without a light, she knew it would be difficult for him to see her. As long as she remained low and quiet, he would pass and she would remain unnoticed. She held her breath as he moved past her.
It seemed like minutes before she could no longer hear his steps. Then, ever so carefully, she eased back around the corner. Ryan now stood in the center of the large cavern. He was looking intently at a wall about ten feet away. From what she could see of his expression, she had the terrible feeling that whatever he’d drunk was some sort of drug . . . and that it had already started to take effect. He was staring at the wall as if he were seeing something, but there was nothing there.
Or was there?
For the briefest second she thought she saw movement. It was up above, more toward the center of the cavern. She caught the flicker of something . . . a shadow. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, but there was no mistaking its form. It appeared to be a giant eagle.
She saw it again, longer this time. It was a misty apparition, half-solid, half-transparent. Becka gasped, and a chill of dread swept over her. It was the eagle from her dreams. Her heart began to pound as she watched it circle above the cavern.
Then she noticed something even more frightening: the crevices and cracks of the cavern’s ceiling formed a pattern — the same pattern she had seen covering the sky in her dreams! The lines, triangles, and squares were arranged in the same swirling, concentric design.
Then, just as in her dream, the eagle’s harsh cry rang out. She watched in terror as the ghost bird hovered one last moment before beginning its dive.
It was headed directly for Ryan!
“Ryan!” Her cry echoed through the cavern. “Ryan, look out!” He turned toward her — not much, but enough to save him from the bird’s talons, which flew past, missing his face by inches.
Becka was on her feet, running toward him. “Ryan! Run, Ryan! Get out of here!”
He stared at her, his face full of confusion, as though he didn’t know who she was, why she was there.
The eagle rose toward the ceiling, preparing for another assault. Once again Becka noted how translucent it was — there and yet not there. But she had little time to ponder this as it turned and began another dive.
She wouldn’t reach Ryan, not in time. All she could do was pray. “Be gone, dark spirit!” she shouted. “You have no power over a servant of Christ!”
At the mention of Christ’s name, the eagle shrieked.
Becka watched in astonishment as the bird suddenly changed shape. The eagle’s sleek and elegant form mutated before her eyes. Its wings remained, but the colorful feathers turned to crusty, black leather. At the same time, the creature’s legs grew to thick, stubby knobs and its talons grew longer — sharper and more deadly.
But the greatest change was the bird’s head. The smooth crown rippled into craggy bone and flesh, taking on a hideous appearance that was part toad, part gargoyle.
Instantly Becka recognized it. She’d seen its kind before, on more than one occasion. And although she felt a cold shiver ripple down her spine, she knew what to do.
She planted her feet firmly and shouted, “Demon of hell, in the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to leave this place!”
Ryan stood watching, unable to move. He felt as if he were in a dream. He knew what was happening, but he couldn’t react. All he could do was stare at Becka as she took her stand. But then, behind her, he saw something else. Another movement.
Dark Bear had entered the cavern.
Ryan wanted to yell, to warn her, but the drug wouldn’t allow him to speak. He watched in terror as Dark Bear crept up behind Becka and raised his staff. Desperately Ryan tried to move his mouth, his lips, anything to make a noise, to warn her. But no sound would come.
He watched helplessly as Dark Bear brought the staff down hard onto Becka’s head. She slumped to the floor, unconscious. Ryan continued to stare as the shaman picked up Becka and carried her back toward an area of the cavern he had never explored. Again Ryan tried to cry out, to move, but again he could make no sound. He could make no movement. Now the cave was starting to spin, to twirl. It began to rotate, starting to fly. Hit by a wave of nausea, Ryan dropped to his knees. He convulsed once, twice, before throwing up. He looked up and caught one final glimpse of Becka. Still in Dark Bear’s arms, still being carried off to her death.
And still he could not move. A moment later, he passed out.
10
When Ryan awoke, the effects of the drug had not entirely worn off. His head was still spinning, and the first time he tried to stand, he fell back to the ground. He got up again more slowly — much more slowly — as memories flooded in.
Becka! I have to find Rebecca.
With great difficulty, he staggered to the wall where he’d seen Dark Bear carry her. It was solid rock. Had it been another hallucination? He wasn’t sure. Carefully, he felt for an opening, a crack. There was nothing.
Without warning his stomach contracted as nausea again overwhelmed him. He felt awful. But even though his body was weak, his mind continued to race with both fear and regret. If he hadn’t taken the tea, he could have saved Becka.
Why did he do it? He knew it was stupid to take drugs. And wrong. He’d even studied this kind of thing. The Bible referred to it as pharmakeia . . . It was a sin similar to witchcraft. And wasn’t that exactly why he had taken it — to get in touch with the mystical? To experience the supernatural? Ryan let out a painful groan. Why hadn’t he seen it earlier? That’s exactly what he was doing . . . practicing a form of witchcraft.
“Dear God,” he whispered hoarsely, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry . . . Please forgive me. I’ll never do that again, I promise. I’m so sorry. Please, help me find Becka . . . Help me to help her. Please . . .”
A strong sense of calm came over him, as though someone had put an arm around his shoulders. Well, he reasoned, Someone had. He didn’t feel any better, but he knew he was forgiven. Gratitude filled him for God’s readiness to forgive. No matter how badly he messed up, all it took was asking forgiveness and being serious about not doing it again. It was as simple as that.
Of course, there were still the consequences of his actions. They had to be faced. Once again he searched for an opening, for some crevice, for anything. And once again nausea overtook him and he fell.
But this time as he struggled to his feet, Ryan reached out to the wall and felt something. A lever. Embedded in the wall. He pulled it. Nothing happened. Then he pushed it.
Suddenly the wall began to move. Ryan staggered back and watched as the large stone rolled to the side. Behind it was a small room, a chamber. And lying on the ground directly in the middle of that chamber, tied and gagged, was Becka.
“Becka?” His voice was raspy and dry. “Rebecca?” There was no answer. He stumbled toward her. As he approached, he noticed that the ground was moving again. At first he thought it was the drug, but as he forced his eyes to focus, he saw that it wasn’t the cave floor that was moving . . . it was something on the floor. Hundreds of somethings. Brown and orange. And they were huge. Insects? No. His blood ran cold. Not insects.
Scorpions.
Back at
camp, Mom, Scott, and Swift Arrow shared their growing worry about Becka and Ryan. Dark Bear’s council would take place in just a few hours, and the two were nowhere to be found. In fact, nobody had seen them since lunch.
“That’s not like Rebecca,” Mom said. “She always lets us know where she’s going.”
“Let’s walk through the village,” Swift Arrow suggested. “Perhaps she is trying to talk to the people about tonight.”
Scott agreed to accompany him, and the two began their search. A few minutes later, Swift Arrow asked, “Do you see how the people avert their eyes from me?”
“After last night, they’re all afraid of Dark Bear.”
“It looks as though they have already made their choice. Perhaps I was not the man to bring the gospel here.”
Scott shook his head. “Don’t be discouraged, Swift Arrow. You still have tonight.”
“I know, and yet . . .”
“And yet what?”
“I can only take the news that your sister and Ryan are missing as another sign favoring Dark Bear.”
Scott nodded. “Maybe. But there’s a saying in baseball that applies to exactly the type of warfare we’re involved in.”
“What’s that?” Swift Arrow asked.
“It ain’t over till it’s over.”
Ryan had pulled a big stick from the fire and was doing his best to keep the scorpions away from Becka. But no matter how many he swiped away, more continued to come.
It wasn’t long before Becka began to stir. When she opened her eyes, she blinked, as though trying to focus. She looked at Ryan, then at what he was doing, and then she rubbed her face against a rock until she was able to finally push the gag from her mouth.
“Ryan!” she said with a cough. “Listen to me . . . We’ve — we’ve got to pray.”
“I am praying!” Ryan shouted back, smashing the stick down on the head of another scorpion.
Becka went on as though he hadn’t spoken. “I know you didn’t mean to, but you’ve formed some kind of allegiance to Dark Bear . . . through all these rituals you’ve been doing. You’ve got to renounce it, Ryan. You’ve got to break his magic’s power over you.”
Ryan’s head still swam from the effects of the drug as he swatted at the scorpions. “What about these — ”
“These what?”
“These scorpions!”
Becka lifted her head and narrowed her eyes, as though straining to see. “Ryan, there are no scorpions here.”
“What are you talking about?” Was she nuts? They were everywhere!
“There’s nothing here,” she repeated firmly. “It’s more of Dark Bear’s magic.”
“But . . .” He hesitated. Was it possible? Could she be right?
“Pray,” Becka urged. “You’ve got to pray and break your allegiance to Dark Bear.”
Ryan watched a particularly nasty scorpion turn and head directly for Becka, directly for her face.
“Pray, Ryan. Pray!”
It was nearly there, approaching her cheek.
“Pray!”
He cried out desperately, “Lord! Lord, forgive me. In the name of Jesus, I break any allegiances I’ve formed with demonic powers. I break the power of Dark Bear’s magic.”
Just like that, the scorpion was gone. They were all gone.
Ryan blinked his eyes, trying to take it in. “You’re right!” he shouted. “They were an illusion! They’re gone. They’re all gone.”
“Hurry and untie me!” Becka cried. “Dark Bear’s council is coming up. Swift Arrow needs our help. Hurry, Ryan. Hurry!”
Back at the village, Dark Bear’s council had already begun. He stood next to the crackling fire, addressing the crowd. His eyes were wild with intensity. “There is one here who is a thorn among the flowers, a sharp-edged rock among the smooth. One who speaks against the laws of the ancient ones. One who dares grumble against the god of thunder and lightning. One who has offended the rain god.”
Scott stood beside Mom at the back of the crowd. He glanced over at Swift Arrow, who seemed to grow tenser with Dark Bear’s every word. In fact, even from this distance, Scott could see him starting to tremble. Not that Scott blamed him. Dark Bear was more than a little menacing. With his warrior clothes, his bright feathers and buffalo-horn headdress, the shaman looked invincible. It was clear that the people feared him. But more terrifying than his appearance was the confidence with which he spoke: “Swift Arrow is the reason there has been no rain!”
Some of the people began to grumble in agreement.
“Swift Arrow has angered the rain god with his white man’s lies! There will be no rain until he has been driven from the tribe!”
Scott glanced over at Swift Arrow, and their eyes met. It was now or never. Swift Arrow stepped forward. “That’s not true! My tribesmen, the drought began long before I returned to the village. You know that. And I have spoken the truth to you. Jesus is not the white man’s God. He is the Son of the one true God. Of everybody’s God. And if you will but — ”
“Silence!” Dark Bear bellowed. “If we let him speak these lies, rain will never fall upon our ground! Even his white friends have deserted him because they know he lies.”
More people started to mumble in agreement. By now everyone in the village knew of Ryan and Becka’s disappearance.
It was obvious that this threw Swift Arrow, but he did not back down. “My friends have not deserted me!”
“Then where have they gone?” Dark Bear demanded.
“Look!” He pointed toward Scott and Mom. “Here is the girl’s mother. Here is her brother. They have not deserted me. They fear something has happened to the girl and the boy to keep them from being here as well.”
Dark Bear took a menacing step closer to Swift Arrow. His voice grew low and vehement. “If something has happened to them, then it is the gods themselves who have taken vengeance.”
The declaration almost sent Swift Arrow staggering, but Dark Bear wasn’t done. He raised his voice so all could hear. “I warned them not to ally with you, but they would not listen. Instead, they followed your lies, and now they have paid the price.”
Suddenly a strong voice shot through the clearing. “It is you who lie, Dark Bear.”
Becka!
Scott spun around to see her and Ryan approaching.
“Thank you, Lord,” he heard Mom pray quietly beside him.
Becka continued, “You lied to your own tribe, Dark Bear. Just now, I heard you. I did not leave Swift Arrow’s side. You kidnapped me!”
The tribe murmured.
Becka shouted over them, “You kidnapped me and left me tied up in your cave. You are a liar. Like your father, the devil, you are the author of — ”
Scott was the first to see it. “Look out!”
The eagle came in so fast that Becka barely had time to duck. It was huge, bigger than any eagle Scott had ever seen. But it was more than an eagle. As it soared back into the sky, preparing for another attack, Scott could actually see stars through its semitransparent wings. No, this was no eagle. It was something far more dangerous. Something he had run into on more than one occasion.
Other people saw it too. They began to race for cover, scram bling for protection. But Becka stood her ground. “Be gone, you spirit of hell!”
The creature continued its course. When it reached the height of its circle, it turned and began to dive . . . directly for her.
It was a test. A challenge of Becka’s faith, to see if she would back down. For a moment she hesitated, as if unsure if she could continue. Scott saw her fear and broke toward her. But Ryan was already there, stepping up beside her. Now the creature was bearing down toward them both.
“You fooled me once,” Ryan shouted, “but not again!”
It continued to dive, but Ryan and Becka remained firm, unflinching.
“You have no authority!” Ryan yelled. “Your power has already been defeated.”
It was nearly on top of them, its talons extended, its b
eak open wide.
Now it was Becka’s turn. “By the power and blood of Jesus Christ, we command you to show your true self!”
The talons were within feet of their faces.
“Now!” Ryan added. “Reveal yourself now!”
Suddenly the bird veered off, coming so close that wind from its wings blew their hair. But Becka and Ryan didn’t budge as the creature swooped upward. Now its movements were sharp, jerky — as though it was struggling with some unseen force. Then there was a flash of light . . . and in place of the eagle was the hideous form of a demon.
The villagers shouted and screamed as the reptilian creature was exposed for all to see.
It circled one last time, preparing for the final assault, but by now three other people had joined Becka and Ryan: Scott, Mom, and Swift Arrow.
It started toward them, its wings drawn together as it began screaming through the air. Now it was Swift Arrow who shouted. His voice rang with clear and absolute authority. “Spirit of hell, I order you to be gone! You have no power here. In the name of Jesus Christ, we cast you into the pit of hell!”
There was another burst of light, much brighter than the first. With the flash came a pounding clap of thunder. And when everyone’s eyes readjusted to the darkness, there was no creature to be found. It was gone. Completely.
Some of the crowd emerged from their places of safety, staring up at the sky — then looking at Swift Arrow and marveling at his authority.
But the confrontation wasn’t completely over. Not yet.
Dark Bear raised his staff high into the air and shouted, “Swift Arrow, you must die! You and your friends, you all must die!” He spread his arms to the sky and called, “God of the lightning, god of thunder, I beseech you, show these people. Show them once and for all who has the power. Show them who has the authority!”
Suddenly, a great bolt of lightning flashed out of the darkness. It forked through the sky directly toward the gathering. Before anyone had a chance to run or duck, it struck. But it did not strike the crowd. Nor did it strike Swift Arrow and his friends. Instead, it forked sharply to the side and hit Dark Bear, knocking him to the ground.
