by Jerel Law
“You need to back off,” Jonah countered to Valack once the boy walked out and they were alone. “You think I care that I wasted two of your creatures? Good riddance.” He eased his hand down to his hip. Maybe I should do the same thing to you, right now.
Valack eyed Jonah’s hand but didn’t seem fazed. “You don’t think you can handle us all by yourself, do you?”
Jonah thought he could find some angels to fight with him, but he knew that at the moment, he was by himself. “I don’t think I need much help to take you on.”
Valack backed up, floating above him and keeping himself just out of range, in case Jonah drew his sword. He clasped his hands together. “Well, that may be true, quarterling. But you have no idea how many of us are here. We own this high school. Haven’t you figured that out? There’s nothing that happens here that isn’t under our control. These kids are ours; they belong to Abaddon. And if you think you can do something about that . . .”
Valack hovered, emboldened by his own words, drawing closer to Jonah again. “Then go ahead and try.”
Jonah thought about how many fallen angels he had disintegrated in the name of Elohim. But right now he didn’t feel so strong. He eased his hand away from his hip.
“That’s better, Jonah,” he said in an extra syrupy voice. “You get back to how it was. You play your basketball games and hang out with your friends and have your popularity. We’ll take care of our business. We won’t bother you. You don’t bother us. Hey, if you really think about it, we’re helping you out.” Valack stood on the ground now, Jonah towering over the pudgy weasel. He grinned, his sharp, yellow-stained fangs dripping. “You get to be cool, and you don’t have to worry about Elohim or anything else. So in this next class, why don’t you just put your head down and leave everything else in our hands. Okay?”
Valack clapped his hands together, nodded to Jonah, and left the bathroom, leaving Jonah alone.
He felt pulled in two different directions. Why didn’t he do something to an underling of Abaddon himself, standing right in front of him, almost daring him to fight?
But then again, why should he get involved, when the only thing that seemed to happen when he did was his mother getting killed?
He pushed open the swinging door of the bathroom and walked toward his classroom, lost inside his swirling head.
Look.
Valack, still in the hallway? He spun to see who had spoken the quiet word. There was no sign of a fallen angel. There was no sign of anyone.
He continued toward his chemistry class, trying to think of an excuse for his tardiness.
Look, Jonah.
He heard the voice again. Jonah spun to look behind him and upward. He turned a complete circle but saw no one. He quickly realized, though, that the voice felt like it was coming from inside him.
Elohim?
He felt a surge of excitement rush through him like electricity, then, in the moment immediately following, a wave of guilt. How long had it been since he had spoken with Him? How long had it been since he had tried to listen to Elohim’s voice? How long since he had even prayed at all?
But he was sure. It was His voice.
Look at what? What did Elohim want him to see?
Jonah slid into his seat, trying not to make eye contact with Mr. Cooper, who had paused as he came in, apparently in the middle of a lecture. On the whiteboard at the front of the room, the words “THE BIG BANG” were written in large, black letters.
“Mr. Stone?” he said as Jonah found his seat at the back of the classroom. “Care to elaborate on why you were late?”
Jonah sat down quietly in his chair and set his backpack on the ground, clearing his throat. “I was . . . uh . . . in the bathroom, sir.”
Mr. Cooper held up his hands and shook his head. “Never mind. Too much information. Just don’t let it happen again, eh? Now, getting back to our topic . . .”
He clasped his hands together, wringing them excitedly. Mr. Cooper wore a short-sleeve shirt with a tie that hit about six inches above his belt. His small glasses made his bald head seem too large for his body. But his face was lit with enthusiasm as he spoke.
“As I was saying, today we are going to begin to discuss the origins of the universe. How we came to be, how our earth was created, and eventually leading us into learning how you and I evolved into who we are today. But first, I want to ask a question. Who thinks they can tell me how our universe began?”
Mr. Cooper paused, his hands behind his back, as he paced back and forth in front of the class. An awkward silence filled the room, and the students began to look at each other. “No one has any ideas at all?”
Something in Jonah wanted to jump up and scream, “Elohim, of course! Elohim created all of this, and I know Him!” He felt the words bubbling around inside, but he kept them down. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his classmates.
A girl raised her hand across from him.
“Yes, Mandy?”
Jonah leaned forward and looked at the blond, pale girl. He couldn’t remember ever having heard her speak before.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat but looked straight ahead at the teacher. “I believe that the universe began when God created it.”
Another student shot a hand up from the back. A boy—Jonah thought his name was Mark—spoke before he could even be called on. “That’s what I was going to say too. My dad says that God created everything by speaking words, and then boom—things just popped into place.”
A long pause filled the room. Mr. Cooper removed his glasses and rubbed the palm of his hand against his eyes. He sighed loudly and began cleaning his glasses on his tie.
Look, Jonah.
Jonah’s eyes opened wider. He turned around out of instinct, looking back at the girl sitting directly behind him who was chewing gum, and when she saw him staring at her, she glared back. What? she mouthed the word, and Jonah spun back.
He raised his hand now but didn’t wait for Mr. Cooper either. “Mr. Cooper, can I be excused?”
The teacher raised an eyebrow at Jonah. “Again, son?”
Jonah held his stomach, grimacing. “Please?”
Mr. Cooper waved his hand at him. “Yes, yes, go ahead. We don’t need you having any . . . er . . . troubles in the classroom.”
Jonah got up and left, but didn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, he stopped just beyond the door, so that no one could see him from inside the room. He looked up and down the hallway, and was satisfied that no one was coming.
He’d finally realized what the voice was asking him to do.
Bowing his head, he prayed for Elohim to allow him into the hidden realm once again. When he opened his eyes, he glanced out the window to make sure it had worked. The grass outside was shimmering with electricity, a sure sign that he was now in the spiritual world, invisible to everyone else.
Jonah walked back into the classroom. He found himself a little nervous, even though he knew no one could see him. He stood in front of his friend Tariq, who sat near the door, and waved his fingers in front of his face. No response. Tariq continued staring straight ahead, unaware of anything happening in the hidden realm.
Mr. Cooper had continued his lecture and clearly was now focusing on the comments from the two students in the back.
“And what we are going to find in our studies on the origins of the universe is that anyone who believes that some kind of higher power had anything to do with it is, well . . .” He paused, chuckling. “Let’s just say that they might have something loose up here,” he said, pointing to his head and turning his finger in a circle. Most of the other students laughed at this or at least smiled. Jonah noticed that Mandy now stared down at her desk, her cheeks flushed and red. “All of the evidence we have suggests otherwise. That we evolved from simple-celled organisms that were created billions of years ago . . .”
Mr. Cooper continued his lecture, and Jonah stood, listening and watching. But Jonah’s eyes were drawn to the students. In th
e back, the two who had spoken up—Mandy and the other boy—had angels hovering over them, with swords raised. The one above Mandy was a dark-haired female warrior, with silver armor shining. Her face looked very determined and focused. In a similar way, a male angel hovered over the boy. Jonah looked more closely and saw that both of these kids’ hearts glowed brightly with the light of Elohim.
The angels’ faces drew him in, and their intensity mesmerized him. He’d seen the look on other angels before, when they were attacked in the streets of New York last year. Jonah had seen nothing else in the room to cause alarm, though.
The class full of kids continued listening to Mr. Cooper as he spouted off several more reasons why it was silly and stupid to believe that anything intelligent created earth and the universe.
Just then, a faint noise caught his ear, coming from the doorway. Some kind of screeching, and it grew louder. The students, however, didn’t seem to notice. As Jonah looked back at the angels, though, they were bracing themselves. They’d obviously heard it too, the female one nodding at Jonah.
“Get ready,” was all she said.
The noise grew louder still, though he still couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.
It sounds like . . . birds, he thought. But why would I be hearing birds right now in the hidden realm?
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
Three creatures swooped in through the door, and Jonah immediately pushed himself backward against Mr. Cooper’s bulletin board. They barely fit in the doorway, but they barged in, talons raised.
Jonah felt cold sweat begin to pop out on his forehead and through his shirt. He could hardly bring himself to look.
Their heads were like birds, with long, sharp beaks that reminded him of a hawk or an eagle. Each one had talons that looked razor sharp, extended so that they must have been at least a foot wide. Their upper bodies were covered in black feathers.
The bottom half of their bodies were different, though. The creatures had feet like paws with razor-sharp claws. The rest of their lower halves were like lions, complete with long tails.
Their screeching filled the room as Mr. Cooper continued his lecture.
Whoosh. Whoosh.
More of the creatures entered, each of them landing on a desk in front of a student. Eventually, as Jonah stood in horror and watched, there was one of the winged beasts for each kid—except for the two in the back. The angels were standing in front of Mandy and the boy now, swords blazing, ready to strike. None of the creatures dared to come near them.
“What are they?” Jonah called out to the angels.
The female angel shouted above the screeching. “Ancient creatures, from the pit of Abaddon himself. They are griffins—half eagle, half lion. Notice their eyes?”
Jonah looked at the closest one, who turned toward him and screeched loudly. Its eyes were blazing yellow.
“What are they doing here?”
The angel simply nodded at the creatures.
Look, Jonah.
The kids were still listening, some of them almost spellbound as Mr. Cooper continued to spout off about the foolishness of believing in any kind of God.
If he could only see what I see right now . . .
The griffin closest to him was eyeing the boy it stood before, narrowing its gaze. The kid, a friend of Jonah’s from elementary school named Bennett, sat still, writing occasionally in his notebook as the lecture wore on. More correctly, Jonah saw that the creature was eyeing the boy’s chest hungrily, like there was something inside he wanted for his own.
The griffin drew closer to the boy and, with one of his talons, reached toward the boy’s chest and plunged his claws inside.
All the other creatures did the same with the other students, reaching inside their chests as if they were trying to locate something.
Jonah knew what was there. In the hidden realm, he could see the light of Elohim in each person, proof that they had been made in the image of their Creator. This light, although dim, burned white, as a reminder of the mark of Elohim on each person.
And then, as Jonah watched, paralyzed by the scene in front of him, the griffin latched onto Bennett’s inner light.
And pulled it right out of his chest.
The creature held a ball of light in front of him, reflecting in its eyes. It was a glowing sphere, but it beat just like a heart. A few thin tendrils of light reached from the ball back into Bennett’s chest as the griffin held it there in its claws.
He glanced up to see the other creatures doing the same with the rest of the students. Reaching into their chests, latching onto the glowing orb of Elohim’s light, and then pulling it out.
Each griffin held a teenager’s light within its sharply taloned grasp and began to pull at it, squeezing and tugging. Some even lowered their beaks and began to dig into the luminescent orbs. Prying, pecking away, and gnawing at the treasure they held in their hands.
Their goal struck Jonah in a moment of sheer terror—and he now knew why he had heard Elohim’s voice, beckoning him to look. Abaddon was after the very hearts of his friends. He knew this already. But seeing it happen, right before his eyes, was something else altogether.
Maybe this was happening in every other classroom in the school. Does this go on every day? Is this what we’re facing? Is this what goes on in this place? Why haven’t I noticed this before?
The griffin holding on to Tariq’s light chewed away, trying to loosen it from the tendrils that held it within his chest. The creature glanced up at Jonah with its beady yellow eyes and seemed to almost smile. There’s nothing you can do about this, it seemed to be saying.
Jonah turned to the angels. “I don’t know what your orders are, sitting there like that while this is happening. But I can’t let this go on. Not right here in front of me.”
He pulled his angelblade from his hip, but the griffins were so busy feeding on his classmates they didn’t even look up.
Jonah held the blade high, then crashed it down on the closest griffin to him. A horrible screeching filled the air as the sword sliced into its wing. It fell to the ground in a lump of feathers and fur.
The one holding on to Tariq loosened its grip, turned, and charged at him with its hooked beak open. But Jonah was ready. He sliced into the beast, sending it to the floor.
He shouted at the others, bracing himself for another attack.
The rest of the creatures let go of his classmates and headed toward him. But instead of attacking him, they soared out of the room. The last two screeched again at him, grabbed the two fallen beasts in their claws, and followed the others.
Jonah breathed heavily as he watched the light of Elohim return to his classmates’ chests.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, letting his breathing slow down and watching the classroom. It was as if everything were happening in slow motion.
“Maybe someone should check on Jonah and see if he’s all right.”
Mr. Cooper’s words broke through his haze. Tariq hopped up from his desk, always eager for a reason to miss class, even for a minute or two.
“No problem, Mr. C. I’ll go see if he fell in.”
A few of the kids laughed, and Jonah had to rush out of the room fast to avoid colliding with his friend.
He moved quickly around the corner, to get ahead of Tariq and return to the physical world. Everything returned in him except his mind, which was squarely stuck back on what he’d seen, the voice that had told him to look, and what he was supposed to do now.
11:09 p.m.
Hey E,
I got your last e-mail—don’t worry. Thanks. I’ll try to remember to hug Dad for you. Things around here are . . . getting weird. Especially at school. I’m trying to be normal and just fit in, but lately it seems around every corner there’s some fallen angel doing something bad. Not sure why they just won’t leave me alone. A crazy thing happened earlier today that I’m sure would make you flip out . . .
I miss Mom a lot. And I guess I miss
you guys too . . . sort of. Punch Jeremiah in the arm for me.
Oh, and tell Julia I said hi, okay?
Jonah
PART II
CONSEQUENCES
In my distress I called to the LORD, and he answered me. From deep in the realm of the dead I called for help, and you listened to my cry.
Jonah 2:2 NIV
NINE
VISIT IN DARKNESS
The long, black limousine eased through the streets, quietly navigating around the cabs, bicycles, and, of course, the masses of pedestrians. The man in the back of the car gazed at the city flashing past him, his hand rubbing his chin. The multicolored lights reflected through the darkened windows, changing his face from yellow, to blue or red, then yellow again.
The driver adjusted his rearview mirror so that his eyes were now visible.
“Almost there.”
The man nodded, tugging on his cuff links until they showed from underneath his jacket.
“What would you like me to do, sir?” asked the man with silver curly hair sitting beside him, whose muscular arms seemed about to rip through his jacket. He felt for the weapon hidden underneath his clothes.
The man continued watching the city, running his hand along his slick hair, pressing it down along his head.
“Let me handle it,” he said.
The silver-haired man nodded respectfully. “Yes, sir.”
The car eased into a parking spot along the waterway in front of a mega yacht, a monstrosity of extravagance, sleek gray, its edges barely distinguishable from the dark waters it floated in. A series of pale blue lights shone in the back, illuminating the water in a ghostly way.
The man checked his watch. 3:46 a.m. He looked upward, along the sides of the great boat, to the top platform. A figure stood there, arms outstretched on the rails, looking down at the street. Four security guards were stationed at equal distances apart, each holding a weapon, eyes also trained below.
The man in the car smiled as he watched them. What they didn’t know was that up above, creatures were circling.
