Shadow Chaser

by Jerel Law

  He had never looked, or felt, more awful.

  But that word lingered in his mind.

  M’chala.

  What did that mean?

  His body longed to be in bed, but his legs took him in a different direction. Down the hallway and down the long steps into the basement room. He didn’t want to ask any of the angels about it, and he didn’t figure Eliza or any of his friends would be speaking to him yet. But at least he could do a little research himself.

  He limped across the floor and plopped himself down in front of a desktop computer sitting on a corner desk.

  He shook the mouse, and the screen came to life. He knew an Internet search was a long shot, but at least it would be a good place to start.

  He tried to spell it every way he could think of. Nothing came up that was interesting in the search results. He scanned page after page of returns, and was about to click off the screen when something caught his eye.

  An obscure result from some type of Hebrew dictionary. Where’s Eliza when I need her? He would have to navigate the details himself. A Hebrew word popped up: MACHALAH.

  He read the entry out loud. “The definition of MACHALAH in Hebrew is . . . sickness or disease.”

  Jonah leaned back in his chair, his mind racing now. Standing up, he picked up a basketball and began to dribble it around. Back in Peacefield, shooting hoops outside of his house always calmed him down and helped him think.

  How did the dictionary information fit in with what he heard from Marcus? It was as if the angel was talking about someone, not just a random illness.

  Another thought sparked in his mind. Hurrying back over to the computer, he typed in another search:

  SICKNESS AND DISEASE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT

  He scanned through the list of illnesses that came up, making mental notes as he went along. Some people Jesus came across were suffering from regular sicknesses that often plagued humans. Other times, it seemed that Jesus knew there was an actual fallen angel tormenting the person. He commanded them to leave, and they did immediately.

  Jonah’s mind suddenly drifted back to his most recent dream. The shadowy figure walking down the hospital hallway, touching the sick . . . Could it be? Could it have been a prophecy dream?

  He glanced up at the wall of ancient books to his left. He knew that Eliza had been reading them in her spare time, but he had yet to crack one. Maybe I should have before now.

  “M’chala,” he said to himself as he read the titles of the books. “Where are you?” He looked in the M section first. Nothing there. That would have been way too easy.

  Fingering the books as he walked along, he saw ancient commentaries on books of the Bible, a book all about the Archangel Michael, and a large tome dedicated to angelic weaponry. I’ll have to check that out sometime, he thought to himself.

  He stopped in front of one crusty leather book the angels had given them to help them study: The Angelic Encyclopedia of Angels, the Fallen, and Other Creatures of the Hidden Realm.

  “Maybe . . . ,” he whispered, pulling the dusty book from the shelf and placing it gently onto a table.

  He paged through it, careful to turn the dusty pages so they didn’t rip. He passed by pictures of angels, fallen angels, and all sorts of monsters, with descriptions written about each.

  He found a section with a large scrolled M at the top of the page. He flipped through the next few pages until he found one that read, “M’chala, the fallen angel of disease and sickness” at the top. There was a picture frame for him, but no image of the creature—it was only a black square.

  The rest of the page was empty. No information, no details, nothing.

  He closed the book slowly.

  M’chala, the one in charge of sickness, was the one afflicting Jonah. He was sure of it. No wonder there was no picture there. All he remembered from his dream was a dark shadow.

  But his affliction now had a cause, and somehow, as awful as this creature must be, Jonah began to feel more focused.

  If M’chala was responsible, Jonah had to find him. Before the Fallen harmed him again. And before the Fallen hurt anyone else around him.

  Or worse.

  Though He slay me,

  yet will I trust Him.

  Job 13:15 NKJV

  SPEED AND STRENGTH

  Where are we this time?” Jeremiah asked after the messenger angels dropped them off for that day’s test.

  Jonah looked up to see that ancient stone surrounded the quarterlings. They were standing on a circular dirt area, with a stadium of bleachers made from rock all around. Columns were visible above the seats, most of them chipped off and broken.

  “This looks like . . . ,” David said.

  “The Roman Coliseum!” Eliza said, her excitement evident in her voice.

  They were standing in the middle of the arena, and they all took a minute to survey the scene. Jonah remembered from history class, and more than a few movies he’d watched with his dad, that this was where the gladiators fought in ancient Rome.

  “Nice place, Camilla,” Jonah said. “So we’re going to compete here today?”

  “We thought it might be a nice reminder of what these examinations are all about,” she said. “Many men lost their lives here, but remember, our fight is not with flesh and blood, but against a much more dangerous—and deadly—opponent: Abaddon himself. Remember today that this is why we are testing you. Not for grades or to determine who is at the head of the class, but so that you are prepared to fight against Abaddon and his army—no matter the cost.”

  “Today,” Nathaniel broke in, “there will be more testing of your unique gifts. The sandals of speed, angelic strength, the breastplate of righteousness, the helmet of salvation . . . and even the sword of the Spirit.” He nodded at Jonah, who was the only one possessing an angelblade. “We know that some of these gifts are held by only one person. No matter. As we’ve already said, you will be measured by your ability with your own gifts, not by the gifts of others.”

  He outlined how the day would go, and they split into different groups. Jonah would be tested on the sandals of speed and angelic strength. He was determined to put everything he had discovered about M’chala out of his mind, at least for now, and focus on the exams.

  Around the outer edges, closest to the stone bleachers, a track was laid out. He and the other runners were called over: Frederick, Hai Ling, Lania, and David. David was still walking with a limp.

  “Are you sure you can do this, David?” he asked his friend as they made their way to the starting line.

  “I’m going to try,” he said with as much cheer as he could muster. “What about you, though? It was only yesterday that I recall you were falling from a tree, Jonah.”

  Jonah did feel sore this morning, but he had been able to shake it off. “I’m just really lucky, I guess. No broken bones, just a little stiff when I woke up. The prayers seemed to really help.”

  Jonah really wanted to tell David about his research last night, about the name he had overheard from the angels, about the monster that was out there. He opened his mouth, but then shut it again.

  “What is it, Jonah?” David asked, trying to read his friend’s face.

  Jonah shook his head. He couldn’t pull his friend into something dangerous again, especially since they were barely on speaking terms. “I just wanted to say . . . I hope you do well today. And I’m really sorry about your leg.”

  “Oh, okay,” David said. “I told you to forget about that already, though. Now let’s go race.”

  The test would be simple. They had to complete seven laps as fast as they could. The first to finish would, obviously, get the highest marks. Jonah looked into the faces of his opponents, and he felt the tension rise into his shoulders. Frederick wouldn’t even look at Jonah. He had already toed the starting line, looking straight ahead, waiting for the gun to go off.

  Nathaniel, who was observing all of the quarterlings as they found their different sections of the arena, c
ame over to watch the start. All of the runners stepped up to the line beside Frederick. Jonah found himself with Hai Ling to his left and Frederick on his right. Lania and David took the outside slots.

  “Racers!” Taryn called out, holding up her hands. “Prepare your feet for the race!”

  They each bowed their heads, and their shoes disappeared. Brown sandals took their place. Jonah picked his feet up, slapping the bottoms of them with his hands. They felt light and fast. He was ready.

  Taryn held her hands apart as they knelt down. “Seven laps, my friends. The fastest one gets top marks.”

  The other quarterlings stopped for a minute and turned their attention to the track.

  “On your marks!”

  Jonah breathed in deeply, focusing on the track in front of him.

  Taryn brought her hands together in a clap, but it sounded like a thunderous bang.

  He lurched forward, pushing his legs into the dirt, slipping a little but pressing ahead. Sensing Frederick and Hai Ling beside him, hearing their footsteps and their deep breaths, he knew they were even.

  A curve in the track was ahead, and Jonah knew that if he could press harder into it, he could gain an advantage. He bore down and leaned into the turn. As soon as he tried to dig his right foot into the dirt, though, it slipped.

  With all the speed he had generated, there was no way to regain control. He found himself flying through the air. Frederick jumped, timing it perfectly so that he flew right over Jonah. He just missed Lania, who was a couple of steps behind. He slid on his chest across the dirt, almost hitting a rock wall at the edge of the track.

  “Gaaaaaaaahhhhh!” he yelled, slamming his hand down on the dirt and pushing himself back up. The dust from the track had been kicked up, but through it he could see the other four runners moving as fast as they could away from him.

  Jonah jumped back on the track, finding himself almost half of a lap down to Frederick, who had taken a commanding lead.

  “Come on, come on,” he growled, starting to run again. There was so much distance between them, though, that Jonah couldn’t see how he would be able to make it up. His feet were back up to speed, and soon he was at least keeping up with them again. He could see Frederick out of the corner of his eye, burning ahead of the others.

  He may not be able to win, but he could put up a good challenge at least. Jonah found himself beginning to utter short, quick prayers.

  “Please . . .”

  “Help me . . .”

  “Go faster . . .”

  He felt his feet churning faster and faster, but he kept his focus on the path about ten feet ahead, not even willing to look up yet. He continued to pray as he passed the start line again. Six more laps to go.

  He found himself letting go, allowing his mind to focus on Elohim and his feet to do the work. All the while he didn’t look up. Before he knew it, he had finished another lap. And then another. Four left.

  Then three.

  And then, as his legs began to hurt, he crossed the line once again. Only two to go. For the first time, another runner came into his vision. His friend David, struggling around the track, was just up ahead now. The lanky African’s leg was giving out, and even though Jonah could tell David was giving it all he had, it just wasn’t enough. He moved past him in a flash.

  The pain in his leg muscles was growing, but he knew it was probably there for everyone. What was more, he had spotted Lania not that far ahead of him.

  I must be moving pretty fast, he thought to himself. Just keep pushing, Jonah, keep going . . .

  Soon, he was passing Lania, who had run out of breath and seemed on the verge of quitting.

  “Keep it up,” he huffed as he passed. “Keep going!”

  He moved past her, just as he crossed the line again. One lap left. “Come on . . .”

  “Let me . . .”

  “Keep going . . .”

  He peeked up and, to his surprise, saw Hai Ling blazing just in front of him. And up ahead of her, Frederick, running faster than Jonah had ever seen. But Jonah found himself gaining, somehow, on them both.

  Halfway around, he passed Hai Ling, who screeched loudly in frustration when she saw him.

  “Don’t quit, Hai Ling! Come on!” he yelled out to her as he passed.

  She must have heard him because she sped up again, almost pulling even with Jonah before he dug even deeper. Frederick was within his sights now, and he felt the pain in his legs disappear.

  It wasn’t until the last fifty feet of the race that Jonah realized he was not going to win. Frederick was too fast, too determined. He looked back over his shoulder, gave Jonah a satisfied smile, and thrust himself even faster toward the finish line. He crossed it with Jonah five steps behind.

  They rested on their knees, sucking in air as fast as they could. Frederick then stood tall and raised one hand in the air as he walked back toward the others.

  “Nice run, Frederick,” Jonah muttered as he walked past.

  “You too,” he replied. “You made up some ground there pretty fast. If it wasn’t for that slip . . .” He slammed his hand down on Jonah’s shoulder and went to talk to Hai Ling and Lania.

  I’m sure he’s telling them how great he was, Jonah thought as he spit into the dust at his feet.

  He stood and watched the other quarterlings being tested in the middle of the arena for a while. Eliza was with Rupert, Julia, Bridget, and Carlo, who all had their shields of faith raised as spheres the size of bowling balls were being launched at them from all directions. The brightness of some of the shields was fading as they got hit, but Jonah wasn’t surprised to see that Eliza’s was holding steady.

  Jeremiah was being tested in his use of the breastplate of righteousness in another corner of the stadium. The exam consisted of a number of disguised angels charging him from different positions, and him trying to fend them off by calling on the armor. Jonah couldn’t hear him from where he was, but he saw the blasts from the breastplate and knew that his brother was declaring truths of Elohim, which gave his weapon its power.

  “All those quarterlings participating in the angelic strength event, please come and join me here!”

  Jonah heard the booming announcement from Marcus and found him standing at the tallest point of the arena, up above the bleachers, underneath a set of columns. He tried to keep from rolling his eyes as he saw Frederick walking ahead of him. He would have to face him in this competition too.

  Andre, Lania, and Ruth were standing with Marcus when Jonah arrived. They were surrounded by columns of marble, some standing, others having fallen to the ground thousands of years ago. There was a wide path, a walkway, in between the rows of columns still erect. On the ground were five of the large cylinders of stone, all the same size.

  Taryn stood down the path in front of them, Jonah guessed the length of a football field away. She waved at them, and the quarterlings waved back.

  “Your goal,” Marcus said, “is to lift one of the columns and carry it to Taryn. The one who arrives first gets the most points.”

  Jonah smiled to himself. This shouldn’t be a problem at all. But he eyed Andre, the enormous Russian, who was stretching and flexing his muscles and grunting loudly, and he felt his confidence erode just a little.

  “Are you ready for this, Ruth?” he asked as she stared down at the column. She was tall but slender, and he wondered how she would possibly be able to lift the heavy weight.

  She smiled up at him. “I believe I am ready,” she said without a hint of worry. Jonah nodded, impressed with her attitude.

  “Just what I would expect to hear from David’s sister,” he said, causing her to break into a wide grin.

  He lined up beside Frederick again, with Ruth to his left. Andre and Lania were on the outside lanes.

  “Looks like it’s you and me fighting for it again, Stone,” Frederick said, with his usual overconfident smile.

  “I don’t know,” Jonah said, looking over at Andre, who had grown very intense. �
�If I were you, I’d watch out for the big Russian down there.”

  Marcus waited until they were settled, with their arms around the columns at their feet. Just like Taryn had done, he raised his arms and clapped loudly, signaling the beginning of the race.

  Jonah strained to pick up the stone column at his feet. It was heavier than he thought. He grunted and got down low to the ground, finally getting some movement from the heavy rock. Glancing toward the others, he saw they were having as much trouble as he was. All of them except for Andre, at least. He had already picked up the column and placed it on his shoulder as if it were a giant bag of marshmallows.

  “What’s wrong, guys?” he called back to them as he bounded toward Taryn. “Too heavy for you?” They heard his laughter fade in the distance.

  Jonah bear-hugged the column and began to move. Frederick had picked his up at the same time, and to Jonah’s surprise, so had Ruth. Lania was well behind, struggling to get her arms around it.

  Jonah quickly found that balance was more important than speed. Several times he found himself going too fast and fell forward, dropping the column on the ground and having to pick it back up again. Frederick was having the same struggle. Ruth, on the other hand, was coolly walking ahead at an unrushed pace and hadn’t dropped hers yet.

  Halfway through the contest, Jonah saw Andre cross the finish line beside Taryn and toss his weight to the ground. Frederick was beside him, inching ahead, though, while Ruth held second place all to herself. Jonah felt his legs growing tired again but tried to push through. Every time he attempted to move faster, though, he ended up dropping the column in front of him.

  Frederick was struggling with the same thing. But he was still ahead.

  Jonah cried out in frustration and grabbed the column again, rushing forward as fast as he could. There was no way he was going to let Frederick beat him again, no matter what happened.