The Elder Prophets (To Absolve the Fallen Book 2)

by Aaron Babbitt

  “I’m not entirely sure what you intend with my town, but I’m watching you.”

  Sara’s countenance did not change. “I have to ask a few questions and try to find any connections there may be to a drug ring out of Panama that we’ve been tracking for quite some time.”

  “Have you been watching the news lately?”

  “Yes.” Sara nodded. “I always watch the news.”

  “Well, an awful lot has been going on inside this little town. Crazies are running around making all sorts of wild claims and hoaxes.”

  “Yes, of course,” Sara agreed. “I have heard of this. What are they calling themselves...prophets?”

  He looked scornfully at her. “They are not prophets. They need to be locked up, and I am working on doing just that. But it would seem that some power would rather I didn’t.”

  “Some power?”

  “Yes,” he verified, “someone doesn’t want me to interfere and has tied my hands since this John first started preaching on camera.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe I could do something if you helped me out.”

  Intrigue overtook his face. “What could you do?”

  Sara shrugged. “I could ask around, see who’s blocking you and why. I might be able to convince the interests I represent—or even another agency—to get involved if there is just cause.”

  “No, thank you. I have had my fill of feds in the recent past, Ms. Andrews. Frankly, I don’t trust a one of you.”

  “Fair enough,” Sara replied without missing a beat. “I ask to be left alone. I’ll be snooping around to find out whether or not I even have any reason to be here, and I don’t want your fine officers to find themselves at odds with an ongoing investigation. If I turn up anything you’d want to know about, I’ll call. I just wanted to introduce myself. Have a good day.”

  She turned on her heel and walked indifferently out the door she’d come in only minutes ago. Her heart didn’t stop racing until she got to her car. He didn’t say a word to her, no one did, didn’t even bother to look at the badge she’d been so concerned about. This Jeremiah appeared to be quite the political mover and shaker.

  After further thought, Sara decided he was probably the one blocking the chief’s attempts to bring in the prophets. Even the probably inept police force of Kingstone had to have heard about the encampment around the house by now. She was surprised that the news cameras hadn’t made it there yet.

  The best thing Sara could do for that chief was to keep him far away from the action. She didn’t think any of those prophets would be easily detained. And Heaven forbid he ever try to arrest a demon.

  ***

  Dylan had definitely felt the tremor of supernatural force last night. It had made his skin crawl and caused him to become short of breath. He knew what demons “felt” like, and he had nothing to which he could compare the feeling he’d had last night.

  “That is our foe,” Garrett had simply replied to Dylan’s questioning look.

  Now, they were only two miles from Kingstone city limits. They had walked, though Dylan had suggested calling a cab from the nearest city. The older demon hunter only shook his head and said something about building strength for the fight to come. So they’d walked, through the night, in the cold, and now Dylan felt very weak indeed.

  When Garrett finally stopped walking, Dylan’s legs almost gave out. He’d said they would set up camp there.

  “Kingstone’s only two miles away. Why don’t we get a motel room or something?”

  “It isn’t time for us to enter the town.”

  Dylan almost started crying in frustration and weariness. “Why?”

  Garrett looked over at his protégé. “You aren’t giving up on me already, are you?”

  “No,” Dylan answered defensively. “I’m just tired. You’ve taken me all over, looking for something I’m not ready to find. I guess I’m a little scared too.”

  The older man snorted a laugh. “That’s a good thing. It might keep you alive.” He sighed reluctantly. “I’m sorry we can’t go in the town yet. It’s just that we have to avoid getting involved with Metatron’s war. There’s a more pressing enemy at the moment, and if we go inside Kingstone, we would almost be obligated to confront Metatron’s forces. Besides, if any reinforcements are on their way, we should wait on them. You and I are not strong enough to defeat the Morning Star. I’m not sure that all of the remaining demon hunters are strong enough to banish that one.”

  “Maybe the Elder Prophets could help us.”

  “They can’t overcome Metatron, Dylan. How can they help us with Lucifer?”

  “Alex did though. You told me that he beat Metatron twice.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard,” Garrett agreed.

  “He could help us. With him and the Elder Prophets, maybe we could actually do it. But they’re not going to be around if we don’t help them. Standing with them in Kingstone will certainly get their support against Lucifer.”

  “Hmm,” Garrett pondered. “You should not be so certain about anything. They may become tied up in their own affairs and ignore the true threat. We cannot rely on their help.”

  “From everything you tell me, the demon hunters are too few. You’re trying to build up your—our—numbers. Well, what if there are more prophets with demon hunter potential? You’ll never know unless you look. You can’t ever look if they all die.”

  The eldest of the demon hunters looked at Dylan for a full minute in agonizing silence before he spoke, and Dylan, of course, wisely said nothing.

  “You’ve made many valid points, and you are not alone in your sentiments. There are other demon hunters who feel the way you do. I think you’re right.”

  “You do?” Dylan got the feeling that Garrett rarely, if ever, admitted he was wrong.

  “I should think you will need more training before encountering Lucifer anyway. While we wait for our reinforcements, you and I shall formulate your strategy.”

  “My strategy?”

  “Yes. We must have faith that some demon hunters will be able to heed my call. Some will be otherwise indisposed; that cannot be helped. I believe that at least four will arrive within the next two days. That makes at least six of us. If we coordinate with the prophets, we can set up a perimeter around their compound. Granted the prophets will allow such a thing, I could create makeshift hunting parties, mixing prophets with demon hunters. Now, let’s formulate.”

  ***

  The church buildings were coming along quite well. With Abbie’s influence, Jeremiah had found all of the prophets he needed for founding members of the church. He had eight deacons and a preacher. Though eleven deacons would be ideal, as he probably couldn’t rely on the help of Alex, Matt, and Liz, this would do for now.

  Several other prophets had volunteered to spread the word—without using supernatural abilities. The deacons and preacher were chosen specifically because of their powers. Four of the group, including Pastor Daniel Green, were one-time protégés of Abigail Martin. They had come immediately to Abbie’s summons from various places in the world.

  Dan Green had quite a way with people. Once, as a representative of the Elder Prophet Council to South America, he set up a prophet safe house outside of a small village. With the help of the villagers and the few prophets he could recruit, Dan defended the village from five bloodthirsty demons and earned himself quite a name in prophet circles.

  He accepted the assignment with enthusiasm. He really thought he could make it work. Relieved that Jeremiah would have no part in church teachings, Daniel told Abbie that he would prefer that this church be open to all walks of life, accepting of all peace-loving creatures, intolerant only to intolerance.

  “And it should be the location for the safe house,” he added, looking around in awe at the nearly-completed sanctuary.

  “You want to keep all of the prophets in the church?” Jeremiah asked skeptically.

  “It’s safety in numbers,” Dan told the demon. “There c
ould be hundreds of prophets stationed in here very soon.”

  “And what an easy target,” Jeremiah countered.

  “It’s possible,” Abbie interjected, “with good leadership. We’ve defended many large safe houses throughout the ages.”

  “My dear,” Jeremiah condescended, “recent events should make things pretty clear. If the demons hadn’t been afraid of God’s wrath for the mass destruction of prophets, it would have happened some time ago. Metatron crossed a line that God let him cross.”

  Abbie had that scheming look in her eyes. “You said that, if the faith was strong enough, the area could become holy, resistant to demonic attacks.”

  “Resistant maybe. Sometimes churches become resistant over time, but they’re coming for us, Abbie. Your best bet is to have small groups that can disperse and run to Kingstone if we are the first attacked.”

  “I’m not going to run,” Daniel stated calmly.

  Jeremiah took a cigarette from the inside pocket of his jacket, lit it, and contemplated. “Then, you will die. But you’ll be in good company because I’m not going to run either. Create this church; get as much publicity as you can. Our most important goal is to distract and deplete as much of Metatron’s forces as possible. We want to be the first and hardest hit. I will indeed give you permission to use the buildings and grounds as a permanent prophet safe house, and anything I can render will be at your disposal. When they come for you, make it a good fight.”

  He took a long drag off the cigarette and walked quietly to the door, leaving Abbie and Dan to reminisce about old times.

  There was a concert in town tonight, and he had a feeling that wouldn’t be the only excitement. He’d been a warrior for too long, and his instinct told him never to trust the quiet. It was the calm before the storm, a storm he knew was building right outside of Las Vegas.

  ***

  “We’ll be back late tonight, Mom,” Alex explained, trying to assuage his mother’s fear as they stood alone in his bedroom. “There will be all sorts of people around to keep us safe.”

  “You just have to take care of yourself,” Mary cautioned, her eyes swollen from crying. “You’re all I have. I don’t have any other children, just you. But I know that you have to do this. I accept that you’re the only one, and I’m so proud. I’ll just be happier when this is all over, and we can go back to our normal lives.”

  “I don’t know if it’s ever going to be normal again,” Alex replied sadly. “But I’ll try to make it as close as I can. You shouldn’t have to live this life.”

  “Now, you can’t start worrying about me.” She forced a laugh. “Then, we’ll both be worried about each other, and neither one of us will get anything accomplished. Go do what you need to do, and come back to me safe. We’ll think about normal when we can afford to.”

  He hugged his mom and walked wordlessly out of his room. Mary Tanner sat down on the bed and looked around at her son’s sparse quarters. It was he who shouldn’t have to live like this. His childhood had been cut short, and everything was changing so fast. She sat on his bed and prayed.

  Alex, in the meantime, had gone to join Matt and Elizabeth, who were already waiting in the car. They would drive to a hangar that held a private jet. A little over two hours from now, they would be in Las Vegas, preparing for a task Alex wasn’t sure he was up to. At least it would be a change of scenery.

  Epilogue

  The Oval Office was empty save for two middle-aged men in dark suits and red ties; one of the men was seated at the Presidential Desk, and the other stood behind him and looked grave. They stared at a solemn, bespectacled face on the screen of a laptop.

  “When I give you the command,” Patheus explained to them via satellite, “you will begin to apply pressure to the prophet forces of Kingstone. I will provide you with evidence that they are conspiring to commit acts of terrorism and treason against the United States. Send the Attorney General to investigate and apprehend any threats. You will also receive dossiers on a few ‘suspected terrorists.’”

  “Yes,” the seated man said, “I’ve been watching the news. But I must say, what you are suggesting will bring fire down on me from every possible direction. Congress will crucify me.”

  Patheus smiled shrewdly. “That, Mr. President, is what your Attorney General is for. Leak the information to him; make him think he’s figured it out. Leave it to him to make the decisions. And when the media comes, point them in his direction; disavow all knowledge, and fire him. It’s the American way.”

  “I don’t know...,” President Rose faltered.

  “You weren’t put in your position to try to figure things out,” Patheus hissed at him. “That’s my job. Though, if you must know, the organization taking root in Kingstone seems very much like Biblical revelation. This Elder Prophet Council controls governments, manipulates world affairs, and has repeatedly blocked international efforts. If you want to be the President that single-handedly gave this country over to this New World Order, be my guest. I’ll live long enough to see that it gets into the history books.”

  “How dare you speak to us in this fashion,” the man behind the President demanded.

  “Vice President Ball, I think it appropriate to tell you that your family, as well as the President’s family, have been taken under my protection. For all intents and purposes, it will appear, to those who look, that your families have taken a vacation to Colorado for a little skiing. The Secret Service, which essentially answers to me anyway, has been notified, and they believe that a detail protects your wives and children. Of course, I would advise you, for the sake of your loved ones, not to divulge this information to anyone. I would hate to ruin our friendship by sending your wife’s wedding-ring finger, complete with ring, to the post office box where your mistress sends her love letters.”

  The President, stunned, could only think to say, “We are the most powerful men in the free world. You will not get away with this.”

  Patheus chuckled. “I am not a man, and the free world is far too small a scope for me to even consider. You will shortly be faxed all of the information you need to have for your Attorney General to begin his modern-day witch hunt. In six hours, if my orders have not been carried out, or if you work—in any way—to undermine my plans (and I will know), I will execute the first-born children of both your families and deliver the proof to each of you personally. If you truly think I ‘will not get away with this,’ you have simply to gamble with the welfare of the only people you may actually care about.”

  “How do we know that you have them at all, or that they’re not already dead?” the Vice President asked.

  “Check on my story if you don’t think I have them. And as long as you don’t do anything foolish, you have no reason to fear for their lives. I told you: I would hate to ruin our friendship.”

  Vice President Ball scoffed, “It may be a little late for that.”

  Unfazed, Patheus replied, “Well, maybe I’ll still be invited to the Christmas Party.”

  Then, the screen read “No Signal,” indicating Patheus had hung up, leaving the two men speechless and reevaluating some of the actions that had led them to this point.