The Elder Prophets (To Absolve the Fallen Book 2)

by Aaron Babbitt

  “Then, it’s very convincing.”

  “It’s a shame that you have to send him away,” Jeremiah said. “I was really hoping he could be the lunatic who stands on the corner, shouting at cars as they pass him on the freeway. Every good church needs one of those.”

  “Have I made the right decision?”

  Jeremiah stopped and turned to face the prophet. “Are you asking me what I think?”

  “As much danger as there already is in Kingstone, it seems foolish to send more.”

  “I can see that, but it stands to reason that Raphael wants him in this war. Besides, I kind of like the idea of sending that crazy fool to an angel to deal with. Nathan will be no threat. In fact, we could find that he is a greater asset than we had once thought.”

  Abbie sighed. “Will you always see us as pawns?”

  “You know, people often accuse me of that. I can only assume that you don’t realize there are other pieces on the board.”

  ***

  She hated talking to him. Every time she did, she would lose herself in his eyes. But Elizabeth had no choice. The woman cop had been nosing around the funeral home and questioning prophets. Other cops might start getting suspicious, and Alex should probably know.

  Standing in front of his bedroom door, she tried to imagine what she was going to say to him. It always felt so awkward talking to someone she had hated so much not very long ago. Anything she wanted to say to him seemed trivial, and normally Elizabeth would just send someone else to deliver the message. This time, however, it was important to her to take the warning to Alex, herself. She put knuckles on the door to knock, and it opened before she could.

  Alex looked bewildered, and she felt a little dizzy.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “I think Sara Card is searching for your friend, John.”

  Alex smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure he won’t be hard to find when he wants to be found. Are you all right? You don’t look so good.” Then, his eyes went wide. “I mean--”

  “It’s okay,” she replied. “Can I sit down for a minute?”

  “Of course.” Alex opened the door wider and placed his arm underneath hers for support.

  She walked unsteadily over to the chair and sat. Immediately, her dizziness subsided.

  “One of the prophets that came in said he was a doctor,” Alex said. “I’ll get his number.”

  Elizabeth laughed softly. “No, Alex. I’m fine, really.”

  “Are you sure? He can’t be more than ten minutes away. I’m sure he said he was staying in Kingstone.”

  “You’re sweet, but I feel better already.”

  Alex walked over to the door and shut it. “Elizabeth, do you ever wish you could change the past, start fresh?”

  Elizabeth’s heart jumped. “Yeah, I do.”

  He walked over to his bed and sat down. Looking into his lap, he breathed deeply and tried to gather his strength.

  “Elizabeth, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. You’re so intelligent and funny. I’m happy just being around you. I regret anything I’ve ever done that made you angry, and I wish I knew what you want in a man because I would never stop trying until I became that. I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’d really like to go out to a restaurant or a movie with you some time. Or...you know...whatever you want.”

  “I’d love to,” Elizabeth heard herself say. “I really would.”

  Alex finally looked up and saw that she was smiling. He couldn’t help but smile too.

  “Maybe tomorrow, then?” he asked hopefully.

  “Definitely,” she agreed.

  Then, she got up and softly kissed Alex on the lips. She was almost to the door when his eyes slowly opened again. She waved to him and walked out, closing the door behind her.

  With the door closed, both Alex and Liz exhaled deeply as the moment, which had almost seemed frozen, gave way to another moment, then another.

  As she walked away from Alex’s door, Elizabeth noticed Sophie staring at her. The Elder Prophet simply nodded and smiled.

  ***

  The reporter looked nervously over at the man sitting next to her in the news van. “And you’re sure that this is the same guy?”

  “Oh, sure,” he retorted. He smiled at the pretty reporter from Kansas City. “I was in the funeral home when he walked in and out. It’s the same guy all right.”

  She examined him from where she was. He was sitting cross-legged by a huge stack of wood. He hadn’t moved noticeably since she got there. He didn’t even open his eyes when they pulled up.

  “What’s he doing?” she asked.

  “Don’t know,” the farmer told her. “Maybe he’s praying.”

  She rifled through her purse to find a cell phone. “Take this. If it looks like he might be dangerous, call the police.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She pointed to the man outside. “There. C’mon, Chuck,” she ordered the man in the back of the van. “I want a camera rolling, just in case we see or hear anything interesting.”

  The doors opened and closed. Chuck got all of the necessary equipment out of the van, and they approached the man outside. Still, he never moved.

  “My name is Rita Conway with Channel 2 News. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

  When he spoke, both Rita and Chuck jumped a little. “Please, sit down.”

  Rita did as she was told, but motioned to Chuck to start recording. “An eyewitness from the Blankenship Funeral Home has identified you as the stranger who...well...”

  “Raised the dead?” John finished.

  “Yes,” she verified, laughing. “What can you tell me about that?”

  His eyes opened. “Is your camera recording this?”

  “Uh, yes,” Rita admitted.

  “Good,” replied John. “I don’t want to have to repeat what I’m about to say. Human beings have wandered through this world, believing themselves to be alone for too long. Today should change that perception for many people.”

  “Did you raise that boy from the dead?”

  “Yes,” he answered, “and that is the only interruption you get. From this point, I will say only what I have brought you here to say. Then, I will give you proof and simply leave. Understood?”

  “Understood,” she said quickly. Her breathing quickened. The whole situation seemed charged somehow, and she desperately yearned to see what he had to show her.

  “First of all, Michael Thompson was murdered. Those who killed him wanted it to look like he died in an accident. However, he was dead before he was ever put in the car.

  “You are surrounded by creatures who are not like you. Most religions fear some kind of demon or evil spirit, and your fears are well-founded. Michael was killed by such a creature. He represents another group that fights for your protection, though he likely didn’t realize it. For lack of a better word, you may call people like him and me prophets.

  “Prophets and demons have fought to control this planet for thousands of years, and up until this moment, they have done so quietly. I have chosen to break a time-honored, unwritten rule by revealing myself and my nature to the public.

  “I do so because, in the days to come, humanity will have to decide with whom to ally. The demons will pose an easy, yet ultimately destructive path. They will offer you power, wealth, and glory. If you don’t volunteer, they will demand your loyalty.

  “Prophets have always been the guardians and teachers of humanity. Without you, though, the demons will probably be too much for us. It’s going to take the efforts of everyone to stop these monsters. The lives of prophets and mortals alike are in jeopardy. Throughout time, prophets have willingly laid down their lives for you, and we are being called to do this again.

  “I implore world governments to end aggressions on other countries. To the world’s religious leaders, I call upon you to unite. You will all forfeit everything you fight each other for if demons are allowed to rule. Currently, they
are in every major government and world religion. They use their positions of power to kill prophets and keep humans occupied and sedated. They use your religions to block science and human progression. They use your militaries to slaughter innocents across the globe. But we can end that cycle.

  “I have come to inform you of what you will start to see. I am not a leader, only a messenger, and I already know that my message will not be liked in many circles. I will be called a liar, magician, witch, and probably even demon. Some groups would still go as far as to tie me to a stake and light me on fire. I have faith, though, that most of you will be able to see past your fears.”

  John looked at the pile of wood next to him, then at the reporters. “I would recommend that you stand back.”

  Immediately, Rita and the camera man began walking backward. John held up his right hand, and Rita looked into the sky. A ball of fire was falling very quickly toward the earth.

  “Run!” Rita screamed to Chuck.

  A loud explosion, followed by a small shockwave, sent the two mortals into a dive for the ground. When they finally peered behind them, they could see that the pile of wood John had been standing next to was now aflame. He seemed unfazed, standing next to it.

  The fire was bright and strong. Rita wanted very badly to go up to it and warm her hands by it. Instead, she directed the camera man to focus on the fire and on John.

  “This is a gift,” John informed her. “It will serve as a reminder that prophets will always be here to protect you. As dark as the days will get, we shall never flee from your sides. This is my covenant to you.”

  He then turned and began walking away.

  “What if they think this is all a trick of the camera or something?” Rita yelled after him.

  John laughed. “Tell them to put out the fire.”

  Chapter 11

  When the demons finally struck us at the core, when they attacked Kingstone, they realized they’d waited too long. We had already become resolute. Our cause had always been just, but it became solidified in vengeance. Though they surely believed they crippled us, it was a tactical error on their part not to finish us off.

  --Abigail Martin, Through the Eyes of a Martyr

  Sara stood in awe of the fire. This area, some unfortunate rancher’s cattle pasture, had become the center of local news. National affiliates were present, as well. Police swarmed the area and had the fire taped off. After three hours, it had neither died in intensity nor spread to anything other than the woodpile. The Kingstone Fire Department tried a couple of times to put it out unsuccessfully.

  The cops had no idea where to take this one. The witnesses only provided a direction that the person on the tape was said to have walked. The officers had followed it into the woods. People were still looking, but it had started to appear unlikely that the man would be found.

  She had tried to trace the trail too. Not more than twenty feet into the woods, it just disappeared. Her most logical conclusion was that he, too, disappeared.

  Whatever was going on in this town, she’d quickly located the hub of activity. Undoubtedly, these were the “friends” Jeremiah had wanted her to meet. Indeed, that was exactly what she had intended to do next. At this point, she had so many questions that someone in that house probably had an answer.

  The trip to the house took a little under ten minutes, and most of that was maneuvering her car around all of the other police cars and news vehicles. She spent the time pondering whether or not this really was a good idea. It occurred to her that she could be walking into a trap. But, if Jeremiah had wanted to trap her, it could have been done long ago.

  The car he’d had tailing her stopped when she got to Kingstone. Armed guards patrolled the house she’d been spying on. After the third night of watching it, she started getting suspicious. By night four, Sara realized they knew she was there. She caught them watching her too. Whoever these people were, they weren’t intimidated by her.

  It didn’t matter now anyway. It wasn’t like she could call for backup, and it was probably dangerous to bring the locals into this. She had a feeling that whoever or whatever was at that house wouldn’t appreciate the appearance of some Barney Fife. Sara knew it wasn’t a good idea, but she felt she had to go in alone.

  She didn’t feel any better when she was greeted outside her car by a couple of brutes. There was no question in her mind that they had guns. What kind and how many became kind of irrelevant when they took hers. After securing her guns, they quickly escorted her to the door. One guy knocked three times.

  “Bring her in, Higgins,” a male voice called from the other side of the door.

  She was led into the house. There was a soft glow all around. The room she was standing in looked to be some kind of entertainment room. A woman sat on the couch, oblivious, reading a magazine. And a young man sat in a chair directly across the room from where she was standing. He stood up and strode over to her, extending his hand.

  “Ms. Card, I presume?”

  “I am,” she confirmed as she took his hand. “And who might you be?”

  “My name’s Matt Hartley. I run defense. I was hoping you would come out of that bean field and meet us.”

  Sara chuckled. “I didn’t think I’d be welcome.”

  Matt’s face became serious. “You are always welcome here. This is an established prophet safe house. And we’re working to make Kingstone safer.”

  “Fire from the sky? Demons killing teenagers? Does that sound safe to you?”

  “The fire didn’t hurt anyone. In fact, the news is reporting that people touch it and don’t get burned. And I will agree that our foes are evil. If we don’t work together, we won’t be able to stop the demons and make this place safer.”

  “I came here tracking someone named Jeremiah, who claimed to be a demon.”

  “Oh, he is a demon, I can promise you. But he’s not here.”

  “Right. I realize he’s in Vegas, but he’s been here. I’m investigating several homicides associated with places he’s been.”

  “Yes. He called me and explained the situation. He assured me that the only ‘people’ he killed were demons.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Hartley, I have suspicions to the contrary.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Matt said. “Jeremiah is a bad man. He’s killed a lot of people for a long time. He has spilled a lot of innocent blood, but he’s a fallen angel, Sara. Do you think you’re actually going to hold him accountable for anything he’s done? Are you going to take him to court?”

  “I can try.”

  “And, right now,” Matt continued, “he’s playing an instrumental role in stopping the real bad guys. Without his money and his influences, none of this would be possible. He travels the country, looking for fights with other demons. That’s what he was doing in Baltimore.”

  “He sounds heroic,” she replied ironically.

  Matt was calm but clear. “I didn’t say he was a hero. He is on our side, though.”

  “And do you think I’m on your side?”

  “Perhaps not yet....Where are my manners? Please sit down; I imagine you have other questions. May I get you something to drink?”

  “Nothing to drink, thank you,” she answered. She found an available seat and took it. “And you’re right: I do have other questions. For instance, how many hired guns do you have on this property?”

  “Here? I have fifteen armed guards at the house. Another twenty-five are close by. On top of that, twenty more take up residence in Kingstone. It’s not this house I’m worried about; it’s everything outside it.”

  “What about all the squatters around the house?”

  “They have been interesting neighbors,” confessed Matt with a smile. “They need somewhere they’ll feel safe. The best we can do is here.”

  “This old house is the best you can do?”

  “There’s much more here than you would think. Mortal guards, even well trained ones, are minimal help. In fact, I think I may reduce
the number guarding the house to five.”

  “With all the demons on the loose,” Sara noted sarcastically, “do you really think that’s wise?”

  “An angel watches this house.”

  Sara smiled. “An angel? Have you ever seen this angel?”

  Matt sighed. “Actually, I haven’t.”

  “But I have,” the woman on the couch put in.

  Sara had almost forgotten about her. Throughout the entire conversation the woman had been silently reading the magazine.

  “And who are you?”

  “I am Sophie Koch. I’m also a prophet. Several days ago, I spoke to the angel, Raphael. He’s out there; trust me.”

  “What, exactly, makes you a prophet?”

  “I have a rather interesting understanding of time.”

  “Does that mean you can predict the future?” Sara inquired.

  “Among other things.”

  “Tell the future, then,” Sara requested. “What’s about to happen?”

  “All right,” Sophie conceded. “If you insist...”

  The Elder Prophet dropped her magazine to the floor, got up from the couch, closed her eyes, and stood completely still. Sara estimated that she stood there, like a mannequin, for thirty seconds. Then, she fell to her knees. Sara dived forward, only to find that Matt had beaten her there. Actually, he caught Sophie even before she hit the ground.

  Her eyes fluttered open. She gasped; then, reaching up and clutching Matt’s shirt to draw him closer, she whispered, “Call Abbie, now!”

  ***

  Metatron turned off the television and sat in silence. It had been so pleasant not to think of John and the threat he represented. Now, the little nuisance was getting exclusives, telling the world secrets that humanity would never be able to handle. The strategy was desperate and foolhardy. More importantly, this little rumor could spark a large enough controversy that his plans for Lucifer could be compromised.

  Jeremiah’s little pets were always getting in the way. And the two most troublesome ones had angels to protect them. Directly involving either of them would be disastrous. The only answer was to show them the sacrifices they’d have to make to wage war on the Voice of God.