From his presence earth and sky fled away
Book Three of the Omega Trilogy
Ω
J.B. SIMMONS
For the only perfect man,
the one who teaches
how to live in the present
with an eye to eternity
Copyright © 2015 by J.B. Simmons
All rights reserved.
This is fiction, not prophecy.
Names, characters, and incidents in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons is coincidental, unless time proves otherwise.
www.jbsimmons.com
Cover by Kerry Ellis
My name is Elijah Goldsmith. This is my story, and it’s the honest-to-god truth. I heard Him. I believe now. But that doesn’t make it any easier, because I still can’t see the ending. Oh, you and I know what people say about the ending, but no one really knows. No one can predict the last day. No one can tell me what’s going to happen to Naomi and the baby. My visions grow stronger, though. And the things I see fill me with fear wrapped thick around a tiny core of hope. What will remain if everything burns?
I STOOD BEFORE a man on a throne. I couldn’t see his face or much of anything else, because something bright blazed before me. I felt like I was staring at a supernova.
I tried turning away, but as I spun, the man and the light stayed fixed in front of me. I twisted to the left, then to the right. I stepped backwards. None of it helped. The man, the throne, and the light were squarely before me no matter where I looked, no matter how fast I turned. Everything on the fringes of my vision was pure white.
I tried closing my eyes, pressing my hands over them. The light still blazed into me. There was no escape.
I stopped resisting. I let the light wash over me like a warm shower.
I stepped toward it.
One foot.
Then the next. Brighter. Warmer.
With each step through the vastness, the light burned less. Moving closer to the source of the light made it seem farther away.
I could see the throne and the man better now. The throne was pearly smooth. Its surface faded into the sea of white around me. The man might have had a beard. He might have worn a robe and a crown. I forgot about all those things when our eyes connected. “Eyes” wasn’t quite right. They were where a person’s eyes would be on a face, but they were like universes of galaxies and stars concentrated into marble spheres.
I realized I’d stopped walking. I couldn’t bring myself to take another step. Now that I could see those eyes, I felt exposed. I felt guilty.
I also felt fear. Deep, paralyzing fear.
“Elijah,” said another man, stepping in front of me. He blocked the universe eyes from seeing me. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
His words made me gasp, like a burning man doused in cold water.
The man clasped my shoulder. He smiled. The whiteness around me rippled. The man’s face faded.
“Elijah.” Someone was shaking me, waking me. Someone with wings. Michael.
I sprang to my feet, feeling excitement and residual wonder. The two of us were in a little cave-like room in the order’s hideout. Michael had sent Naomi and me to get some rest after the others in the order fled. He’d told us we had to remain until reinforcements came. He’d prayed over us, and sleep had come easily. “What time is it? Where’s Naomi?”
“It’s after dawn,” Michael said. “She’s having breakfast in the main room.” He paused, studying me. “What did you dream?”
I stretched my arms and yawned. Something about the angel—an odd uncertainty—made me hesitate. “What happened to the rest of the order?”
“Gone. Ronaldo was the last to leave—a few hours ago.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t like the Brazilian.
“He was needed elsewhere.”
“So it’s just the three of us … with Naomi ready to have her baby any time.”
Michael’s face was blank, statuesque.
“Shouldn’t we be leaving?” I asked. “You said Don would know where we are.”
“He does. We leave soon.”
He’d said something similar the night before, as the order had left. He didn’t give away much. I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t intimidated by his black eyes with blazing fire in their centers. I pressed him, like an ant pressing a giant. “But why are we still here?”
“You’ll understand in time.”
“Great. Thanks.” I tried to think of some way to pry. Naomi was better at this. “Can’t you give me at least a little more than that?”
“I tell you the words I am given to tell you.” The intensity of his stare made me look away. “Come, Naomi is waiting,” he said. “Tell me about the dream as we walk.”
He led me out of the room and we headed up a long, dimly lit tunnel. As we passed doors open to abandoned rooms, I told Michael about the throne and the universe eyes and the man who had stepped in front of the light. He nodded along. “When did this happen?”
“I don’t know. There didn’t seem to be time … if that makes sense. It seemed far away.”
“It won’t be for long.” He sighed. “It’s the gateway between this world and the one to come.”
“Gateway?”
“The throne of judgment.”
“As in, some people make it past, and others don’t?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?” The feelings of guilt and fear gripped me again, as if I were back in the dream.
“That’s not my decision. My task is to get people like you to that place.”
“But what happens if we don’t make it through?” I couldn’t shake the vision of those eyes like a universe, judging me. Suddenly nothing else seemed important. “I think I’d rather die now than get turned away.”
“Dying won’t save you.”
“What will?”
“The man who stood between you and God’s wrath.”
I trembled at the way he said wrath. Or maybe it was just a cold draft in the hall. I swallowed, hard. “Was the man Jesus?”
“I suspect it was.”
“Don’t you know?”
He stopped and turned to me. Something like sympathy crossed his face. “I know much of your dreams, but not all.”
“If it was him, will he protect me from that…wrath?”
The angel studied me. “Only God knows that. It will be revealed.”
“That’s not much help right now. What am I supposed to do?”
“Do exactly what he told you. He said he chose you, right?”
I nodded, remembering Jesus’s words from the day before, touching my mind in the little cave. One of his instructions still puzzled me. Let your enemies give you quarter. In the moment when the world listens, tell the world I am coming. I met Michael’s gaze and repeated the words. Saying them filled me with energy, but also uncertainty. “I’m not sure what it means.”
“You will in time. Be ready to obey. He chooses all humans for some purpose. Some refuse him, and he lets them go. You should follow what is written: be all the more eager to make your calling and election sure.”
“How?”
“Let’s start with a good breakfast.” He walked ahead, the light of his wings brushing against me. I reached out for them, but my hand passed through. He glanced back with an amused look. “Come on. Naomi is waiting.”
MICHAEL AND I met Naomi in the hideaway’s main room. It felt empty without the rest of the order. Our voices echoed off the metallic floor and walls as we ate lukewarm oatmeal. Naomi couldn’t keep her eyes off Michael. He didn’t say much, but we talked about the order—where they were going, where they were hiding.
&
nbsp; Naomi seemed to know as much as he did. Probably because she’d been hidden away in this place for months. As much as she smiled and talked, something about her seemed distant. She was barely touching her food.
I pointed at her bowl. “Are you going to finish that?”
“It’s all yours.” She pushed it toward me. Her normally bright face was pale.
“Thanks. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She put her hands over her swollen belly and faced Michael. “How much longer do we have to stay here? I feel like we’re exposed.”
“We are.” His eyes scanned around. “No place is safe. We stay until support comes. Then we flee to the wilderness, come what may.”
“You don’t sound happy about it,” I said.
“I obey the Lord’s will.” He stood from the table. His perfect form, his beautiful face—they wore an almost sad look.
Naomi leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”
His hand tensed around the sword at his side. “Ages of pain and suffering and loss are coming to an end. The enemy won’t go down easily. He will win battles along the way. We face trials and tribulations … and defeats.”
“But we’re going to win.” Naomi’s voice rose. “Even in setbacks, even in prisons and deaths, the gospel will advance. Shouldn’t we be hopeful?”
Michael turned back to us. “Did the Lord hope to be crucified?”
Neither of us answered.
“Measure your hope with resolve and faith.” He spread his arms wide, tilting his face toward the ceiling. His wings began to unfurl behind his back like sheets of light billowing in the wind. “No victory comes without pain. But it will be worth it.” My breath froze as his wings kept unfurling, growing larger and larger until they reached the width of the enormous room. Then they snapped closed, making me gasp.
“What?” Naomi asked me.
I pointed behind Michael.
“Wings?”
I nodded.
Her eyes turned to the angel. “Why can’t I see you as you are?”
“Only Elijah can see the spirit.”
Spirit. Roeh. My name. I accepted now that I’d been called to this, but I still didn’t understand why. “What do you mean the spirit?”
“The realm only you can see glimpses of.” He held out his hands, studying them. “The Maker did not give my kind flesh. I was not created with this body. I have it for a limited purpose here.”
“Stopping Don?” Naomi asked.
Michael’s expression turned grave. “Not yet.”
“If you’ve been an angel all this time,” she pressed, “why didn’t you stop Vicente before?”
Vicente—the demon Michael had killed. I looked to the spot behind me. Something like an oil stain covered the concrete floor, but the body was gone.
“He was a master of deception,” Michael said. “He was far from my equal, but even lesser beings can win little victories for a time. He clouded my vision.” The angel turned to me with a storm in his eyes. “The enemy let his guard down against you, and so he was revealed.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to hold his stare.
“Humans aren’t the only ones created with different gifts,” he said. “You’re a seer. This demon was a liar. Lies are personal, tailored to each person’s perception. The dark one didn’t take you seriously enough.”
“You’re telling us some demon tricked you?” Naomi asked.
“Yes.”
Naomi’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Could this happen again?”
“It would not be a battle if each side did not have advantages. If I knew all the enemy’s movements—” His shoulders rolled back, as if flexing his muscles and wings. “Then it would be a massacre.”
“But God knows everything,” Naomi said.
“And how much does he tell you?” Michael challenged.
“He tells me some things. He spoke to Elijah, too.” She glanced at me, then back at the angel. “You’re from heaven, so shouldn’t—”
“No,” the angel said. “We know what is revealed to us, just as you do. Only He is unlimited by time. We were created under its dominion, like you. I know little of what’s to come.”
“I read about you.” I remembered the words. “You and the angels, you fought against the dragon and won. You threw it down to the earth, right?”
“That was long ago. We won the war in heaven. This time it’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because this battle is on earth.”
We were quiet for a moment, then Naomi spoke. “I’ve read that the dragon pursued the woman clothed with the sun, the woman who had given birth to a male child.”
“Yes?”
“Is that me?”
The angel shook his head. “You are her offspring, the descendants the dragon has been at war against for over two thousand years. He has won many victories.”
The somber tone in Michael’s voice, however slight, was unnerving. “But you’re here now,” I said. “The order will rally behind you.”
Michael’s eyes burned into me. “You underestimate how much ground the enemy has gained. Year after year he has marched against you humans, yet you’ve barely noticed his advances. If you had only looked around, you would’ve seen he was herding you toward a cliff. Most have already fallen. Even the faithful have their heels hanging off the edge.”
“But why?” Naomi asked. A wince of pain flashed across her face, her hands went to her stomach. “Why would God let this happen?”
I was surprised she’d asked the question, instead of me. Mostly, I was worried about that wince.
“It’s not that simple,” Michael said. “Even two thousand years is a tiny sliver of time. It amounts to nothing compared to eternity. We don’t have His perspective. What matters is that He will win, and He will save those He called.”
“If we know the ending,” I said, “why fight?”
“We fight because we can, because it is our share of His work: to proclaim liberty to the captives, to restore sight to the blind, to—” Michael’s head snapped to the side, as if he heard something. “My brothers have come. Gather your things. It’s time to go.”
NAOMI AND I went back to the little room where we’d slept. It was a dark and quiet cave with the porthole window sealed tight. I felt tempted to wrap my arms around Naomi and just hold her. If angels were coming to fight the demons, what could we do? Why not hide here until the end came?
But my eyes wandered to her large belly. No, I didn’t want to be here alone when the baby came. I picked up my backpack of basic supplies—food, water, a change of clothes. “Should we bring anything else?”
“I wouldn’t mind having a doctor,” she said.
I laughed, shaking my head. “We’ll have Michael.”
“I don’t feel good about this. He knows something bad is going to happen.”
“Yeah, the last battle.”
“Not that,” she said. “He didn’t sound like he was gearing up to win a fight. He sounded like he expected to lose.”
“He’ll take care of us. Besides, the end is coming soon.”
She paused and stared at me. “Wouldn’t you have seen that?”
I shook my head. “My visions never come with timelines.”
“But it’s not—” She grimaced, and her hands went to her stomach again.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. Early contractions, that’s all.”
“How much longer do we have?”
“I wish I knew. However long, I think this baby will be born before the end.”
“Why?”
“God has a plan for him.”
“For an infant?”
“Yes.” She sounded certain. “We know what Don thinks about the baby. He must be wrong in some way. Maybe that’s why Michael wants to flee with us instead of fighting here.”
“I don’t know. He’s the one who battled the dragon. He’s the one who leads the armies. Don’t you think he’ll be in t
he middle of the fight?”
“Maybe, but only when the time is right.” The sound of a rushing wind blew against the closed window, like a storm battering the rocky hillside. Naomi eyed the window. “What was that?”
“A storm?” I stepped forward and slid open the metal porthole. Naomi came to my side. Our heads touched as we peeked out at the barren terrain under a cloudless sky.
“Nothing.” Naomi turned to me. “Right?”
But she was wrong. A ring of light wrapped around the hideout. It grew brighter and brighter. My breath froze as shapes started to take form.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Angels, I think.” I pointed out, showing where. “They’re standing shoulder to shoulder, facing out and wielding swords. They’re like Michael, with wings of light behind them. No one else is in sight. Nothing dark, no enemy.”
“How many?”
I started to count but quickly gave up. “I can see maybe thirty, forty from here. But there must be hundreds. They look like they’re circling this place, guarding it.”
I turned back to Naomi. She gaped at me in wonder.
“I want to see them!” She leaned forward to look out again. Her body was close to mine. I could feel her energy. I could smell her hair—warm, fresh, like a meadow of wild flowers.
She quickly stepped back, shaking her head. “Nothing but rocks.”
“This is different,” I said, still in some disbelief. “I wonder if they’ve been with us before. Maybe, when Jesus spoke to me, he opened my eyes to them. Maybe before that I could see only the dark spirit, and now I see both. That would explain why I now see Michael as he really is … and the demon.”
“You’re amazing.”
I laughed. “You know it’s not me.” I gazed out the window again. This felt like the safest place on earth with the angels around us. “I still don’t understand why we can’t stay here.”
“Because it’s time to go,” answered Michael’s voice, a moment before he appeared in the doorway. He crossed his arms over his chest, revealing the skin under his loose sleeves. The muscles of his forearms looked like sculpted marble.
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