The Seventh Seal

by J. Thorn

  John took the ramp and turned left onto State Road. Like all the neighborhoods they drove past, everything stood in darkness. The saw the flames as soon as they made the turn: a raging fire consumed a dozen vehicles on a used-car lot. Spastic flames leapt from the showroom windows, illuminating the cold neon signs above.

  In the next block, smashed tables and chairs lay in splinters on the road. The storefront windows of a mom and pop furniture dealer sat in pieces on the littered sidewalk. To the right, a convenience store was bathed in blood-red pentagrams. The men looked at each other with raised eyebrows and low whistles.

  “Home of the resistance?” Alex asked.

  John nodded in agreement.

  “Something went down here.”

  “Isn’t the Jigsaw up ahead?”

  John nodded again and guided the truck into the right lane. Streetlights stretched across the road a foot or two above the ground.

  “I think this is as far as we can take the truck,” John said.

  “Yeah, whether it’s planned or not, we’re not getting past those.”

  John pulled the truck over and killed the engine. The lights died and cast the street back into orange, flickering shadows coming from the auto-dealership inferno. The air smelled of burning fuel and plastic. Alex grabbed a rifle from the back of the truck and jumped back. The breakout and subsequent escape had tossed their dead passenger about like a ragdoll, leaving the man’s limbs pointed at various grotesque angles. Alex suppressed the urge to vomit.

  The two men exited the vehicle and dropped low to the ground as they hurdled fallen light posts. John saw the vertical “Jigsaw” sign a block down the street. Glass crunched under their boots as another blast threw debris in their direction from the car lot. Alex stopped and ducked behind the side of a pharmacy.

  “If we approach in camo and with guns, they might fire on us,” said Alex.

  “Shit, you’re right. Do you think anyone is in there?”

  “Do you think those light posts fell like that on their own? Yeah, they’re in there, and I’ll bet they’ve already seen us.”

  Alex hesitated for a moment.

  “You still have that radio?”

  John rummaged through the bag on his shoulder. The force of the collision with the minivan had thrown it into a much harder object. Plastic shards of radio fell through John’s fingers to the sidewalk.

  “That ain’t gonna help us,” said Alex.

  “What if we yell something that will distinguish us from the Covenant?”

  Alex nodded, and stepped out from behind the wall. He took a few steps toward the Jigsaw, to a point where he knew he would be heard.

  “I hear Sleep is reuniting for a show,” Alex yelled.

  A light hit the pavement in front of John. Bouncing red dots found their mark on the forehead of each man. Then a booming voice.

  “Drop your weapons and walk towards the side door where the bands load in. If you so much as step on a crack, we’ll shoot you. Consider yourselves lucky that we didn’t blast your ass for wearing camo out here, you dumb fucks.”

  John dropped his weapon to the pavement, as did Alex. They walked side by side toward the door, the red points dancing lively patterns across their chests.

  Chapter 17

  “I am the Alpha and the Omega, says the Lord God, the one who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.”

  Blank, compliant faces stared up at Father, who sat atop the highest chair while the rest of the group scrambled at his feet.

  “Amen,” the group responded.

  “In Chapter 5, John writes about the sacrifice that must be made on the Lord’s behalf. He tells us to follow the obedient examples of the angels. He says worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing!"

  “Amen, yes Father,” said one man with greasy hair and hollow eyes.

  “What do you think the Revelator means?”

  A woman with a purple bruise on her cheek pushed spindly legs underneath her bottom and spoke.

  “John is telling us that we must sacrifice ourselves to God.”

  “Yes, that is correct.”

  Father peered at the group over the top of his Bible. The ritual of the Holy Gauntlet always delivered a range of emotions, including sorrow for the souls that would not survive it.

  “The Infidels bring death and destruction. They have spent many decades and generations contaminating our Christian way of life. They drink, lie, smoke, cheat, fornicate, and abort like the Beasts of Hell. God has called his Holy Covenant forth to cleanse His place of the abysmal sin. ‘And when the fourth seal was opened, I heard the voice of the fourth being saying, Come. And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and the one who is sitting upon it, his name is Death, and Hades is trailing after him; and authority to him is given over one fourth part of the earth, to kill them with war, and famine, and death, and by the wild animals of the earth’.”

  With the fervor building, Father watched as they devoured the passages.

  “Are we Death?” one man asked.

  “No, we are the Light. Death has ridden down the wicked. There is no saving them from eternal damnation,” replied Father.

  “Would another care to read from The Revelation of John?”

  A short, slight man stood and pushed his way to the feet of Father. A sling held his left arm, and he limped with a grimace.

  “I would, Father.”

  “Then come to me, son.”

  The man accepted the Bible held out by Father and picked up the narration of The Sixth Seal from Chapter Six.

  “And I watched when he opened the sixth seal, and a mighty earthquake took place, and the sun became black like animal-hair sackcloth, and the full moon became like blood, and the stars of heaven fell to the earth, as a fig tree shaken by a strong wind casts its unripe figs, and the sky retreated like a scroll being rolled up, and every mountain and island was removed from its place. And the kings of the earth, and the great people and the generals and the rich and the powerful, and everyone, slave and free, hid themselves in the caves, and among the rocks of the mountains, and they are saying to the mountains and to the rocks, ‘Fall on us, and hide us from the face of the One sitting on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb; for the great day of their wrath has come, and who shall be able to stand?’”

  The man’s mouth foamed and his eyes glazed over in delightful rapture. Others on the floor stood and started to shuffle around the room. Father glanced at the armed guards while beaming with satisfaction.

  “My sons and daughters, be still. Your opportunity to serve Him is coming. We must finish our study so as not to be fooled by Satan. ‘And when he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour. And I saw the seven angels which stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them. And another angel came and stood at the altar, holding a golden censer, and many incenses were given to him so that he might present the prayers of all the saints at the golden altar which is before the throne. And the smoke of the incenses went up before God from the hand of the angel together with the prayers of the saints. And the angel took the censer and filled it with the burning incense, and he hurled it to the earth; and there came rumblings and noises and peals of thunder, and earthquakes.

  “‘And the seven angels who had the seven trumpets readied themselves to play. And the first one sounded his trumpet; and there came hail and fire mixed with blood, and it was rained upon the earth; and one third of the earth was burned up, and one third of the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up.

  “‘And the second angel sounded his trumpet; and something like a huge mountain burning with fire was hurled into the sea, and one third of the sea was turned to blood, and one third of the creatures that have lives in the sea died, and one third of the ships were destroyed.

  “‘And the third angel sounded his trumpet; and a huge star fell from heaven, burning like a lamp, a
nd it fell on a third of the rivers, and on the sources of the waters. And the name of the star means ‘Wormwood.’ And a third of the waters were turned into bitterness, and many of the people died from the waters because they were made bitter.

  “‘And the fourth angel sounded his trumpet; and a third of the sun was struck, and a third of the moon and a third of the stars, such that one third of their light was darkened and a third of the daylight would not be shined, and the same with the night.

  “‘And I looked, and I heard an eagle flying at zenith saying with a very loud voice, “Woe, woe, woe to those dwelling on the earth because of the remaining sounds of the trumpet from the three angels about to sound!”’”

  With this, the entire group vibrated as one, turning and thrashing, spittle flying from their mouths. Father stood on the chair, his voice echoing off the ancient, yellow brick of St. Michael’s church. He smelled the excitement in the men and women, the musky scent lifted on the warm rise of collective body heat. The survivors, the true believers, would serve Him for all eternity.

  “My flock, please settle. The time for service is near. But before we go, there is more we must examine.”

  “Father, what must we do with the survivors, those that have proven their loyalty to Him?” asked the tiny man who had read earlier.

  “My son, their fate lies with God. Those that do not repent will face certain death. Those that have worshipped false idols and practiced sexual immortality will bleed the rivers of His paradise red. John says, ‘And the rest of humanity, those who were not killed by these plagues, they did not repent, neither of the works of their hands, such that they worship demons and idols made of gold and silver and bronze and stone and wood, which can neither see nor hear nor walk, and neither did they repent of their murders, nor their potions, nor their sexual immorality, nor their thefts.’ You see, he has plans for those without faith.

  “Fallen! Fallen is Babylon the great, which had given the nations to drink of the wine of the wrath of her whoredom. Suckle at the teat of the witches and raise the demons from their hiding places.”

  Chapter 18

  The aroma of sugary cola and dried beer woke her from the stupor. Jana closed her eyes again and felt the presence of many around her. When she opened them, she counted five faces. Their muffled and distant words formed into coherent sounds.

  “She’s coming to!” one woman said.

  “Give her room to breathe,” said a man.

  Jana sat up, and streaks of light and pain flooded her head. She felt dried blood in her matted hair. A bitter, copper taste flooded her mouth, and her hands trembled.

  “It’s okay. You ran into Peter and knocked yourself out. Somebody get her some water.”

  A small boy appeared at Jana’s side with a half-empty bottle of warm water. Jana hesitated when she saw the particles floating in it, but her thirst overrode the sense of revulsion. Her tongue felt swollen and cumbersome as she fought to put a sentence together.

  “Where…?” she asked.

  “You’re in the BP on the corner of Mayfield and Warrensville. You’re safe here.”

  Although it was dark, Jana’s eyes adjusted. She could see the faces of the people around her, but not their bodies. It appeared as if heads floated in space. She managed to smile at the young boy that shared his water with her.

  “What are you people doing here?” she asked.

  Her thoughts came back into focus.

  “We were here when the shit went down, and managed to hide in the storeroom. We haven’t left this place in days. Well, a few of us did, but they didn’t come back. You’re the first to come by since, since…”

  The woman trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence.

  “My name is Jana. I live right down there on Plainfield. I think they’re looking for me.”

  “They’re looking for everyone, dearie,” said an elderly, black woman.

  “I’m Peter,” said a man.

  “Ruth.”

  “Bill.”

  “Sally.”

  “Jake.”

  “Andrew.”

  The little boy sat on Jana’s good leg.

  “I’m Jay,” he said.

  Peter held his hand out to Jana and helped her to her feet. His rough hands lifted her without effort. Jana guessed Peter to be in his mid-thirties, based on a receding hairline and paunch that grew under a loose shirt. He wore a wedding band as well as a full sleeve of tattoos on both arms.

  “Sorry about knocking you over. We weren’t sure who or what you were, and we happened to run right into each other. If it makes you feel better, you gave me quite a shot to the ribs.”

  Peter’s smile made Jana blush.

  “Didn’t mean to rough you up,” she said while twirling a strand of hair around a finger.

  “Honey, do you have any news? Has there been a terrorist attack?”

  Ruthie stumbled toward Jana on a cane held together with duct tape. Her mangled glasses hung from a broad nose. Ruthie tottered on a two-liter bottle but kept her balance as the others caught their breath.

  “No, I don’t know what’s going on. Guys, army guys I think, broke into my house. One shot me in the leg and left me for dead. I woke up before they came back and I hid. After they left, I ran down the street. There’s nobody around, nobody anywhere.”

  The group stood motionless.

  “I have a radio from my shower. Maybe we could try and pick up the news.”

  Jana walked toward the ATM inside the food mart and picked up her duffle bag, which had struck the cash machine during the collision with Peter. She unzipped it and fumbled until she brought out the neon-green radio, bringing the scent of bodywash and conditioner. She handed the radio to Peter. He turned the dial and picked up nothing but static from one end of the FM band to the other. He switched it to AM with the same result.

  “I’m afraid there isn’t anyone broadcasting,” said Peter. He turned the radio off and handed it back to Jana. “Why don’t you keep that in your bag and we can try again a little later.”

  “Why don’t we keep it on? Are there nine-volt batteries in here?”

  “Yes! Good point, my lady. We can afford to leave it on, and hopefully we’ll pick something up.”

  Jana felt a flutter in her chest. She turned to hide her face from Peter.

  A younger man approached Jana.

  “I’m Jake,” he said, holding out his hand to hers.

  She shook his hand and noticed that he also had tattoos on his right arm. His left hand reached and pulled the sleeve down over the ink.

  “Jana,” she replied.

  Peter appeared next to her.

  “Well, let’s see if we can make a little room for Jana. We’re going to need to squeeze another person into the storeroom tonight. It’s not safe out here.”

  The group led Jana through the jumbled aisles of snack cakes and potato chips. Unopened junk food reached from the floor to the ceiling. Jay tugged on Jana’s jeans and handed her an opened bottle of water. She smiled and ruffled his hair with her hand. Sally smiled too, and pulled Jay inward.

  They entered the storeroom, where candles pilfered from an emergency roadside kit spread meager light. Jana gawked at the boxes of packaged goods along the walls.

  Blankets and tarps spread out on the floor. A metal shelving unit stood across the wall, blocking the back door, leaving the only entrance to the storeroom from the food mart. To the right, an employee restroom stood with the door open.

  “There are bottles of washer fluid on the floor. Make sure you fill the tank up with it after a flush. If you’re doing a number one, don’t flush it. We don’t know how long the washer fluid will last.”

  Bill’s face glowed bright red as he stared at the tops of his shoes.

  “I’ll be sure to flush when appropriate,” Jana said with a slight smirk.

  The group sauntered into the room and retreated to their tiny spaces, the territory marked with remnants of their past lives. Jake and Peter slid
their tarps apart a foot or so to create a space for Jana. She sighed with resignation at the thought of sleeping between the two men. Peter rolled up a fleece blanket and placed it in Jana’s spot.

  “It’s not exactly the Cleveland Marriott, but anything’s better than sleeping on the cold concrete floor.”

  Peter smiled and waved at Jana’s space. She noted that her spot on the floor had the same dimensions as a coffin.

  Jake sat down on his tarp. His eyes searched and prodded Jana’s body, sending the hairs on the back of her neck into full alert.

  “Feel free to get close if you’re cold,” the young man offered. “There’s no heat in here, but I’m always warm.”

  Jana looked at Jake, evaluating. She held his gaze for another moment, but did not respond.

  After fidgeting, sneezes, coughs, and expulsions of gas from various orifices, the group finally settled. Jay complained to his mom that he was hungry, and then cold, and then thirsty, and then hot. Though she liked the boy, parenthood never looked so unappealing to Jana. Sally told Jay bedtime stories until he fell asleep. Others stared at the water-stained ceiling of the storeroom, awake and still. Jana fought to keep from crying aloud, ignoring the tears flowing down the side of her face and into the rolled, fleece blanket.

  The sound of water sloshing troubled her sleep, followed by the antiseptic odor of windshield-washer fluid. The floor of the storeroom sucked most of the heat from the warm bodies. Jana imagined everyone sleeping on a glacier in Antarctica. Her back, neck, and shoulders began to ache, and she flipped around on her tarp. Every movement brought a rustle of plastic that disrupted the dead of the night. Jana gave up on sleep and stood. She moved toward the door that led back into the store. As she got closer, Jana noticed a chain and padlock woven through the vertical push bar of the door.

  Jana crept back to her spot. Jake snored, laying on his back. Light from the bathroom stole at least some of the power from the darkness. While Jake slept, his sleeves rolled up his arms, revealing the human artwork from wrist to elbow. She noticed a dragon as well as an inverted cross. The beast stood on his wrist and bellowed fire up his forearm toward the cross. Flames danced around the dragon, and the numbers “666” sat above a spiderwebbed elbow. On the other arm, Jake wore a faded swastika. Jana wanted to see what was on the other side, but did not want to get any closer.