He shook his head and spoke to someone he knew would never respond. “You fashion children for me to destroy, and I’m the monster? Then, I shall have to play the part well. Never forget that You made me do this.”
Metatron picked up a phone and dialed. “Proceed with phase one,” he commanded.
***
The two men ducked into an alley, sure that they had eluded the London authorities. Nearly breathless from their recent sprint, one of them smiled slyly.
“Did you see the look on her face, Simon?” he asked the other, barely able to contain his laughter.
“That poor old woman could have had a heart attack,” Simon replied gravely. “Abbie told us not to use our powers in public. You couldn’t restrain yourself for thirty minutes, Henry. What did you plan to do if the police caught us?”
“All right. So I didn’t think about the cops. We got away. What’s the problem?”
Simon just shook his head and walked back out onto the street. He stuck out his hand to hail a cab.
“C’mon, man....Simon, nothing’s going to happen.”
“I’m going back. Obviously, it’s not safe being around you.”
A cab pulled up, and Simon got in. Henry looked pitifully at the car.
Simon rolled his eyes and sighed. “Get in.”
There was silence in the car for a long time after Simon gave directions to the driver.
Finally, Henry collapsed under the pressure. “I’m sorry, Simon. Please, don’t tell anyone.”
“This is not the right time,” Simon hissed at him. “That’s always your problem. You don’t know when to just act normal. And I don’t plan to tell anyone. I’d get in just as much trouble.”
But something else had already stolen Henry’s attention.
Turning to see what had been so important, Simon noted, “See? You can’t even pay--”
His thought was never finished. He beheld a great plume of smoke floating into the sky. Below it, trees burned. Abbie’s palace, which could normally be seen for miles—even in the dark, was simply not there.
“Wasn’t that where you were going?” the driver asked in awe.
“My God,” Simon gasped.
There was a police barricade in front of them, but the two prophets hardly noticed. Their eyes searched the hillside for answers to the many questions burning in their minds. The taxi came to a slow stop, and an officer approached.
Simon immediately felt the presence of demons.
“No,” he said. “We’ve got to turn around, got to get out of here.”
“I felt it, too,” Henry agreed. “Get us outta here,” he commanded the driver, pounding the back of the seat.
Before the driver could have even responded, the officer approaching them revealed a sub-machine gun and eliminated the possibility, as well as the three people in the car.
***
Abbie wiped a tear from her eye. “My contacts in London confirm that my palace has been destroyed. It exploded, killing almost everyone inside. Two hundred prophets lived there, and five hundred more live in London. The people with whom I spoke said that they could feel a strong demon presence in the city. I suspect that they’re hunting parties, bent on finishing the job. The remaining prophets will have to be evacuated.”
Jeremiah nodded solemnly. “I am sorry for your loss. And I agree completely; your people need to be relocated quickly.”
“I don’t know how. Without any kind of leadership, those prophets are going to spread across Europe, looking for other safe houses.”
“You realize that those safe houses will be targeted soon,” Jeremiah warned her.
“Some of them have already been evacuated,” she explained. “I meant to move people in waves. I hadn’t relocated the prophets in London because I thought that some safe houses would still be needed to protect other fronts. Most of the prophets have been advised to come here or go to Missouri. I need to alert all of the remaining safe houses.”
There was a knock on Abbie’s office door.
“Come in,” Abbie instructed.
Marla walked in, panicked. “Jeremiah, the prophet safe house in San Francisco is under attack. The caller said that demons were on the premises.”
“God help us,” Abbie murmured.
“There isn’t much we can do about it from here,” Jeremiah reasoned. “We need to send word to the prophets in London and San Francisco that they are in danger. Prometheus Broadcasting has a branch in San Francisco, and I intend to use that to alert the prophets there. I imagine you still have some influence in London’s media.”
“Yes,” Abbie said quietly.
“Then, you might choose to use that option as well. The prophets in the safe houses may be lost to us, but the others in the cities are not. If we act quickly, we could still save them.”
Abbie nodded solemnly and picked up the phone.
“Marla, inform Mr. Kinsfield to be on the lookout for demons in San Francisco. Have him contact any prophet he knows and get them out of that city. I want him to run continuous editorials, advising prophets to seek protection in Las Vegas or Kingstone.
“Explain to him that he will soon after become a hunted man. Eventually, the demons will take the station and kill any prophet sympathizers. The few goons he has will do nothing to save him. As soon as he programs a continuous loop of the editorial and sets it in motion, he should begin moving and not stop until he has attempted contact with every prophet he knows. Then, he needs to get himself out. If he ever stops running, the demons will probably find him.
“And, Marla...I need you to personally oversee the finishing touches on the church—the paperwork and such. I fear we will need it to double as a holding facility for refugee prophets. Nevertheless, I want it functional to begin services within a week. I think our congregation is on its way.”
Abbie hung up the phone. “I will need to tell Nagina. They could strike anywhere. Bombay could very easily be next.”
Abbie and Marla left to perform their respective duties, and Jeremiah pulled out his cell phone. He hesitated for a moment before dialing the number. The decision was a difficult and dangerous one, but one he ultimately decided was necessary.
“Summon the others,” Jeremiah ordered after three rings and a greeting. “I am in need of reinforcements in Nevada. South of Las Vegas about ten miles, off of Interstate 15, is an abandoned service station. I will be faxing you all of the details shortly. Go there, and await further instruction.” Before the person he was speaking to could reply, Jeremiah ended the call.
He left Abbie’s office, wondering who might show up in Las Vegas in the days to come. He hoped that a prophet with some people skills would arrive. A strong, zealous preacher would be needed to lead this future church. Jeremiah anticipated that a multitude of prophets would flock to this church, if only because it promised to be a safe place, but he would need miracle workers on site. At the very least, the preacher and all of the deacons should be prophets.
Jeremiah decided that ten good prophets should do it. Indeed, added to Matt and Liz, that would make twelve—a number far too irresistible.
***
Sophie wept quietly as Salmar tried to comfort her. Zeng Wei looked on stoically. Alex and Elizabeth sat next to each other. Neither of them had known any other prophets outside of Jeremiah’s circle, and they felt a little out of place.
Perhaps more out of place was the prophet sitting to Alex’s left. Alex knew of Sara from conversations he’d had with Matt. No one questioned her presence at the meeting, and Matt didn’t explain, except to say that she might be able to help.
Matt stood at the head of the table with Higgins and a detailed map of Kingstone.
“So far, we know that the safe houses in London and San Francisco have fallen. No less than three hundred prophets are assumed dead. Other safe houses, other cities, are now likely targets. Prophet intelligence from all over Europe reports an increase in demonic activity in every major city. Demons have also been spotted in di
fferent parts of Asia.”
With that, Zeng Wei closed his eyes and nodded slowly, indicating that the message had been received.
“Word is spreading faster than ever that Kingstone is safe,” Matt continued. “Whether or not it is safe remains to be seen. A demonic assault against this town would be costly for both sides.”
“Wait a minute,” Sara interrupted. “You mean to tell me that your ‘safe’ houses around the world are being destroyed, and this place is supposed to be safe for me?”
Alex, intrigued by Sara’s boldness, fielded the question. “This house will not be attacked until the end. For right now, it’s safe; our enemies will not attack because there’s too much to lose.”
“That will change,” Salmar warned. “There is a contingent of demons assigned to this little town, and they will attack when they’re ready.”
Sara shook her head. “No, I don’t think these guys are going to stop with what they’ve got—whoever they are. I’m not saying they are demons or anything.”
“They’re scared of us,” Alex explained, “with good reason. Three Elder Prophets, an angel, and a small army of prophets are not going to be a target they like very much.”
“We can’t pretend like they won’t attack us, though,” Matt cautioned. “They will come after us. They have to. We can go on thinking that London and San Francisco are unrelated to us, but I believe that we will soon see demons in Kingstone. We know that they’re not far away. The demons in Kansas City probably wouldn’t be enough, but when those others are finished with their mayhem in San Francisco, I have no doubt they’ll head here, after a possible layover in Las Vegas.”
Sara furrowed her eyebrows in exasperation. “After all that, how can you expect me to stay here?”
“They will not be content with Kingstone,” Elizabeth said. “We drug them out of hiding and exposed their evil to the world. We’ve crossed a line they didn’t want us to cross. Now, there’s no going back. If we can’t stop them, they’ll continue to spread, and they will enslave mankind. No one you love will be safe. They will eventually find and exterminate you and any other prophet who survives whatever lies in the near future, just for being born their enemies. At least here, you will be among friends.”
“It may be a little too early to call us friends.”
Elizabeth sighed. “We all know your skepticism; we had it, too. But time really is a factor here. I can’t force you to stay, and wouldn’t want to if I could. We’ve invited you in, given you information (even if you don’t believe it), and you may stay here as long as you want. Even if you insist on continuing to Las Vegas, you’re welcome to spend the night here. That said, you should be aware that Vegas will probably be a more dangerous place to be in the coming days.”
“I appreciate the offer,” Sara replied, feigning sincerity, “though I think I’ll stay in my motel room. I’m sure that you prophets and your angels and demons have a lot of fun here, but it’s just not for me.”
“Would you like to see what we fight?” Alex suddenly asked, even surprising himself.
Everyone turned and stared at him.
She answered, “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
Alex held out his hand. “I promise that no harm will come to you.”
Sara examined the extended appendage carefully. “What are you talking about?”
“I can show you a memory.”
“One of your memories?”
“Yes,” he verified, “one of demons.”
“Have you ever done this before?” Elizabeth asked, suddenly concerned.
“No,” Alex admitted, “but John was trying to explain faith to me. No limitations. I believe this is something I can do. Sara, if you’d like to find out, take my hand.”
The others, now, just watched him speechlessly. The Elder Prophets were curious, despite themselves, about what Alexander Tanner may be capable of. Abbie had told them a little, but they all secretly wished to witness the power of this young leader in action. Mastering his ability to that degree, with the little experience he had, would indeed prove impressive.
Sara smiled. “Is this like a reverse kind of palm reading, where you look at my hand and tell me something about your life?”
“Want to find out?”
“What the hell,” she decided. “After all, you haven’t given me any reason to distrust your intentions, though your sanity may be in question.”
She put her hand in his and immediately fell into a trance. Alex’s eyes closed slowly as his other hand came up to cup hers.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.
***
“Iblis,” Metatron commanded, “it will be your responsibility to drive the prophets out of Europe. Collect the remaining forces in Berlin and London. I want parties all over Europe, slaughtering prophets foolish enough to stay. I want total control in the European Union. The battle for the Vatican needs to be a quiet one. You must not allow any of the prophets there to unite the world’s Catholics against me.
“Mara, take a thousand demons across China and India. I want the safe houses in Hong Kong and Bombay destroyed as well. Again, I rely on you to eliminate any prophets you may encounter in Asia. Play no games with Buddhist monasteries or Lamas. If you do not kill them outright, they will make you pay for the mistake. Call upon the demon strongholds in Moscow and Peking for additional support.”
He addressed the entire group of demons sitting before him, thirty of his best, “The rest of you are to join Patheus in the United States. Each of you should take three demons with you and claim an American metropolis. Jeremiah must have thought that the destruction of one stronghold would terrify me. I will give him thirty more in answer.
“In two days, the reinforcements for Kansas City should arrive as well. Patheus will control the United States from there—until I arrive, that is. Currently, one hundred additional demons are assigned to Patheus. He will use these to patrol and siege Kingstone. If that is where the prophets are being summoned, we will simply wait for them to come and get caught in my web. I will oversee the entire operation from here, but you may rest assured that I will be in Las Vegas and Kingstone for the final battles.
“Regrettably, I no longer have the time, energy, or patience for the purposes of taking hostages or forcing conversion. Any prophet you encounter should be eliminated on the spot. In the past, we have used fallen prophets to maneuver into and out of prophet safe houses, to plant bombs, to inspire and manipulate mortals—but not anymore. Additionally, I realize that many of you make a hobby out of experimenting on and torturing prophets. This will have to stop. No risks must be taken, and no time is to be spent. I must also ask you to destroy any prophet cohorts you might have. They will only become liabilities.”
He gave the demons a moment to soak in everything he had just given them before continuing: “I want full control of Kingstone in one month. Don’t forget that as you make your own plans. No one is to come within one hundred miles of Kingstone or Las Vegas without my express permission. Just know that I will send for you eventually.”
Seeing no movement, he added curtly, “You have your orders.”
Then, the room was empty, leaving him, again, alone with his thoughts. Another prophet safe house would fall tonight, the home of Salmar Bargotha in Ivory Coast. He estimated that, in one day, the number of prophet deaths he would be responsible for could reach above a thousand, and the thought created conflict within him. He knew he couldn’t defeat the prophets without killing them. Part of him wished for another way, but a different part of him wanted the prophets to bathe in their own blood for their tenacity and foolishness.
They were to blame. God was to blame. Now, Metatron knew his course had been laid before him. If only the prophets could see him now; they would know that he, too, was an instrument, a tool of the Almighty to teach another superfluous, destructive lesson on faith. They wouldn’t fall, though. They would mourn for their losses, question and accuse God, lose their faith
, and He would still go out of His way to bring them back into the fold. For Enoch, there was only silence, a maddening, lonely silence.
He had once been a man who walked with God. His faith had been so great that God took him to Heaven before his mortal life, albeit enhanced and lengthened, could end. Angels, however, got no second chances. They served faithfully, or they didn’t serve at all.
Now, he could only guess at God’s will. He could only rely on the information around him, which seemed to suggest complete annihilation of his enemies. This, or the attempt of it, may not win him any favor from the Father, but in one way or another it offered an end to Metatron’s suffering on this ridiculous plane of human misery.
***
“What have you done to me?” Sara demanded of Alex.
She found herself standing in a very different place. They stood upon a hill overlooking a battle of some kind that was being fought outside an enormous castle. Between them and the castle, Sara saw hundreds of figures on the ground, engaged in an unholy combat. Monsters moved across the lawn before the castle, ripping people apart. It looked as though the humans really believed that their automatic rifles and rocket propelled grenades would suffice. The monsters didn’t even seem fazed by gunfire as they disposed of one mercenary after another.
“I am showing you what everyone else in that room has already seen, lots of demons slaughtering people just like you and me.”
“They’re all prophets?”
“No,” Alex answered. “Most of the people down there are human mercenaries. Though, the majority of prophets would probably not even defend themselves that well against a horde of demons.”
“This can’t be real,” Sara told him calmly. “It’s like a movie or something.”
“Do you remember ever going to a movie theater that was miles wide, with no visible walls? Would you like to move closer and get a better look?”
The Elder Prophets (To Absolve the Fallen Book 2) Page 23
