by Tom Mohan
A sudden flash lit up the mist behind them, followed by the sound of a huge explosion. The three warriors stumbled, and the ground shook.
“What was that?” Ryan yelled over the ongoing rumble.
“I don’t think you’ll be returning to your Keep. Ever.” The spirit master chuckled as though the total annihilation of the Keep meant nothing at all to him.
Sara choked back a sob. Her parents were dead, and now the only place she knew as home had been destroyed. She had nowhere else to go.
No, that wasn’t true. She could go forward. A fire lit inside her, fueled by rage that anyone should dare tear her world apart. Her fists clenched.
“Take us to Eve.”
“Ah, now that’s the warrior who will waken Eve.” The spirit master turned away and started into the mist. “Follow me, young ones. I will take you as far as I can. The rest will be up to you.”
Sara followed without hesitation, not bothering to see if her friends joined her. They could come along or not; it made little difference. She was going forward. She was going to find Eve and end this once and for all.
“THE BENE HA’ Elohim grow restless.” Lagos waited for his master to respond.
“Even in their dreams their power moves worlds. Imagine what they will do once freed.” The wonder and awe in his master’s silky voice was unmistakable. Lagos could imagine what the imprisoned Sons of God would do. Though he did not necessarily agree with Agibus’s assessment that freeing the Bene Ha’ Elohim would be good for the rest of them, he did know that the puny human creations of the Ancient One would be wiped from the face of the earth. That alone made the whole thing worth the time and planning.
“I assume they pulled Burke’s human friends into the veil and placed them in that scene?”
Agibus’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Of course. Just as it was they who altered the way the humans saw you in the cabin. The Bene Ha’ Elohim are unconsciously pulling ideas from the humans’ minds and placing them in the game.”
Lagos did not share his master’s enthusiasm. “So far their interference has been innocent, but what happens if they adversely affect what we have worked so hard to set up? Without even knowing, they could jeopardize everything.”
Agibus turned toward his second-in-command. “I have thought of that. You and I will join the final confrontation. We are too close to leave anything to chance.” The demon lord froze Lagos with his intense gaze. “The pieces are all falling into place. The girl is almost there. Once she accepts the souls I have captured for her, nothing will be able to stop her. Not even the Ancient One himself.”
“The question remains—is she desperate enough to accept such evil into her own soul?” Lagos knew that everything hinged on it.
“She will be, my skeptical friend. I know just the thing to push her over the edge.” Agibus’s manic laughter managed to bring a smile to Lagos’s lips.
Josiah groaned as he sat up. He struggled to remember where he was, but nothing looked familiar. His vision blurred, as though the world were still trying to decide what it wanted to be. Lord God, what in the world is happening? Josiah forced himself to close his eyes and listen for any answer that might come. He heard no words, but his mind did feel calmer, like a soothing breath had chased away the fear. It was enough.
A hot, dry breeze washed over him, carrying the odor of rotting garbage. He snapped his eyes open and saw that he sat in the middle of a deserted street. On both sides of the road stood derelict buildings—most with shattered windows. Josiah heard a groan and turned to see Tiny struggling to get his bearings. Around them, the rest of the Lord’s Rebels lay in various stages of awareness.
“Where are we?” Tiny asked.
Josiah shook his head. “Beats me, boss. Not where we was, that I know.”
“This place stinks, but it looks as abandoned as the town in the desert.” Raquel climbed to her feet, then reached down and helped Josiah stand. “Are we all here?” She walked among her fellow Rebels, helping them up. “Burke’s not with us.”
Martinez turned in a full circle, searching for his friend. “John,” he called out. “John, can you hear me?”
“Quiet, man,” Tiny hissed. “We don’t know who might be out there.” The huge man waved his arm at the surrounding city. “No need to attract attention to ourselves.”
Martinez accepted the rebuke. “Sorry. Should have thought of that myself. Why would all of us be here but him?”
“This whole thing’s been about him from the start,” Josiah said. “I don’t think we were invited to play in the same game.”
“Well, whatever’s going on, the first thing we have to do is figure out where we are.” Tiny gathered his small gang to him like a mother hen gathering her chicks. “Josiah, you getting any insight on this?”
Josiah had hoped Red would show up to give him some answers. She had told him that he had to let his old role go, but he still wanted to impress his friend and leader. He shook his head. “No, nothing.”
Tiny grunted and looked to Martinez. “You?”
Martinez was silent a moment before answering. “The Bible tells us that no matter what our circumstances, if we put our faith in the Lord, he will protect us. King David found himself in much the same situation we are in. Maybe not quite this weird, but you get my point. He prayed to the Lord, and God came through for him again and again.”
“So, you’re saying we should pray?” Tiny’s massive beard did not hide the skeptical look on his face.
Martinez shrugged. “Can’t hurt. Besides, none of this is natural. Sounds cliché to call it a battle of good versus evil, but that’s exactly what it is. God is our strength. The only strength we have in this.”
Tiny nodded and spit on the street. “I won’t argue that. Lead us in prayer, then.”
Again, Josiah felt a surge of jealousy. Leading prayer had always been his responsibility. He looked up at Raquel just in time to see her turn away, a look of disgust on her face. Disgust at him? Even what little he had was being taken from him.
Be strong, Josiah.
The words were just a whisper in the breeze, yet he knew they were for his ears only. He would be strong. It was all he had left.
The small group stood in a loose circle. Martinez took a deep breath before closing his eyes. “Holy Father, we praise you and thank you for keeping us safe thus far.” One of the Rebels chuckled, but if Martinez heard, he chose to ignore it. “Father, we ask for your guidance and protection in this…whatever this is. We put our faith in you now. Amen.”
“Amen,” the rest of the group repeated.
“Well,” Raquel said. “That was nice. Now what?”
Tiny stood in the middle of the street, looking both ways. The sky was overcast and stormy, with no sign of the sun, so he couldn’t determine directions. They appeared to be on the outskirts of a long-dead city. In one direction, the buildings faded in the near distance, only to be replaced by more sand and desert. The buildings continued in the other direction, going deeper into the city. “Walking into the desert sounds like a really bad idea,” Tiny said. “I guess we check out the city, see if anyone’s around.”
As though in response to Tiny’s comment, a sound like the screech of metal on metal rang out. The close confines of the buildings made it impossible to determine from where the sound originated, but Josiah thought it had been close by.
Tiny reached into his leather jacket and felt around, confusion—then anger—on his face. “My piece is missing,” he said. Others in the group began searching various parts of their bodies.
“Mine, too,” said Josiah.
“My daggers are all gone.” Raquel clenched her fists.
Martinez pulled an empty hand from inside his jacket. “All our weapons are gone. Someone must have taken them while we were out cold in the street.”
“Now, there’s a cheery thought,” Raquel muttered.
“Then we aren’t alone here,” Josiah said.
“Tiny, this ain’t
right. We gotta get outta here.” A few others mumbled their agreement.
Tiny glared at the man who had spoken. “You think I don’t know that, Hank? You think I like any of this? But we’re soldiers, aren’t we? Soldiers of God? The Lord’s Rebels, right? Or do we only call ourselves that when everything’s all righteous?”
Josiah watched the other gang members. Most of them hung their heads, a few shaking them in the negative.
“Do you guys turn into a bunch of little girls when things get tough?” Raquel yelled. “A bunch of little babies out in the big bad world?”
That got their attention. No matter how strange their surroundings, being called out by a woman lit a spark in them.
Tiny gave Raquel a rough look, as if to tell her he had things in hand. She smiled at him and shrugged.
A crash from a nearby building startled them. “Okay, let’s get moving.” Tiny turned toward what Josiah guessed to be the heart of the city. The group spread out, keeping a loose formation, but not so close as to step all over one another if they had to fight. Josiah watched their discipline with pride. He knew they were seriously freaked out, but they were once again Lord’s Rebels through and through.
RAQUEL STRUTTED ALONG the road, her long legs keeping just a step behind Tiny. She was aware of Josiah’s presence beside her, but she ignored him, lost in her own thoughts. Something about this whole strange journey excited her. Of course, she felt scared, but not like some of the others. For as long as she could remember, the exploration of the unknown had called to her like sirens of the old tales. Was she being called to crash upon the rocks? To be annihilated by her own greed for excitement?
She shrugged to herself. So be it.
In truth, she really didn’t care. She loved the Lord’s Rebels and joined whole-heartedly in their love of the Lord Jesus. That was what had driven her to the Rebels in the first place—their courage to love God dangerously. The world had gone to hell, and the Lord’s Rebels met that evil head-on. Oh, how she fed on the excitement.
Part of her wondered if she had traded her love of Christ for the thrill of thwarting evil. Had she become so obsessed with courage and righteous rebellion that she put them above God? Such thoughts were far from new to her, but of late had become more demanding. She felt the Spirit calling her out on some of her thoughts and actions and knew this had started with the arrival of their strange new companions. John Burke and David Martinez had brought life and mission to a group of stagnating Christ-followers. She glanced toward Martinez, his tall, strong body so different from Josiah’s. And his knowledge of the Bible—not just in his mind, but in his heart as well. She wondered if this godly man could put the Lord’s Rebels back on the mission God had created them for.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Josiah gaze up at her. Her husband had taken a definite backseat to Martinez. That in itself was strange. Josiah had defended his position against more than one false prophet who had tried to infiltrate the group. Josiah might be small, but he had chased these others off with what could have been nothing but the power of God.
But not this time. This time he had given in as though he had been expecting someone else to come along. Sort of like John the Baptist giving way to Jesus. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this. No, that wasn’t true. She did know how she felt—jealous and more than a little angry—but she wasn’t sure what these feelings meant. From the beginning she had acknowledged, to herself at least, that her attraction to Josiah stemmed from his special place of honor in the Rebels. He was their spiritual leader, their connection with the true mission. Her lips formed a small smile. Somewhere along the way, the little man had created a special place for himself in her heart. Love? She wasn’t sure if it went that deep, and again felt guilty. He was her husband, after all. Joined with her for better or worse by the power of God himself. Raquel shook her head, her long, dark hair whipping over her shoulders. Life was so much easier when there was a battle to be fought. The physical aspects of following her Lord were easy. The everyday heart aspect left her feeling empty and convicted.
Something howled nearby. “What was that?” She stopped in the road and spun around. The rest of the gang followed suit. Another howl raised goose bumps on her flesh.
“Whatever it is, there’s more than one,” Tiny said. “Those came from opposite sides of the road.”
“Sounds big, too,” Specks said.
Tiny moved to the side of the road and picked up a piece of pipe about two feet long. He swung it a few times, getting a feel for the makeshift weapon. “Everyone see what you can find. We don’t want to be caught empty-handed.”
Raquel’s eyes darted around the litter-strewn landscape. She spied a brick but decided against it. She would either have to get too close to her enemies so she could hit them or throw the brick at them and leave herself weaponless again. Neither option sounded like a solid plan. She knew hoping for a gun or knife was probably asking too much, but a bat would be nice. A dead shrub along the cracked sidewalk drew her attention. She stepped nearer and sucked in a breath. The handle of a baseball bat stuck out of the dried bush. She reached down and pulled it out. Sure enough, a solid metal bat, in perfect condition, just as she had wished it. Her heart pumped with excitement.
The sound of something heavy falling inside one of the condemned buildings spun her around again. She felt a chill of panic at the realization that they were surrounded.
“Keep the faith, love. We’ve been in worse.”
Raquel glanced over to see Josiah standing beside her. “I’ve got plenty of faith. But since we don’t know what we face, I don’t see how you can say we’ve been in worse.” Her husband’s relaxed tone irritated her more than it should have. She gave him another look. “Where did you get that?”
Josiah held up a machete with a foot-long blade. “Over in the gutter. Funny thing. I was just thinking about that old machete I used to carry, and I saw this. Almost the spitting image of that old one.” He waved it back and forth for effect.
“I wish I’d have asked for shotgun now.”
“Huh?”
Raquel shook her head. “Never mind. Funny that we all found decent weapons though, don’t you think?”
Josiah smiled. “The good Lord provides.”
Raquel’s lips turned up involuntarily. She had always loved his infectious smile. He looked up at the sky. “You know, love, we’ve been walking this road awhile now, but nothing’s changed. The sky, the buildings, even the trees. It all looks the same.”
Raquel nodded. She had noticed. The sky was dark gray, storm clouds roiling but never releasing their power. In the time since they’d awakened in this place, nothing had changed. Until, of course, the creatures started howling.
Another howl echoed through the buildings, followed by a clatter, like an overturned trash can. A stench like a dead skunk caused Raquel to gag and cover her nose with her hand. The howl shifted to a growl, and a beast pulled straight from some dread poet’s nightmare stalked into the road behind them. The monster was tall, over seven feet. Old rags hung from its skeletal frame, barely covering gray, rotting flesh. Open sores leaked putrid green liquid. Raquel forced her gaze to its head. It was completely bald, the same gray skin covering its head and face—if it could even be called a face. There was only a mouth, a very large one with long, jagged teeth. A grotesque forked tongue snaked out and tasted the air before it bent its head back and released another ear-shattering howl. More beasts all around them returned the cry.
As the howling faded, the monster took a step toward them, its foot scuffing across the ground as though lacking the energy to lift it. Raquel lifted the bat in front of her as the thing took another step. It held up one massive hand that seemed out of proportion with the rest of its body. The hand closed in a fist, but a miniature version of the forked tongue lashed the air from between the gnarled fingers. Slowly, the fingers opened.
Raquel nearly dropped her baseball bat as she stumbled back, away from the nightmare before her.
A face glared at her from the palm of the beast—a human face. Its mouth opened and closed as the tongue continued to whip the air. Raquel gasped for breath, feeling lightheaded.
It was the face of her mother.
Even without the hair that had been so much like her own dark waves, there was no question in Raquel’s mind that her long-dead mother glared at her from the palm of the beast. Her mom had been killed trying to rob a drug dealer. Raquel had never entertained thoughts that her mom might be in heaven. But never in her darkest moments had she ever imagined anything like this.
Welcome to hell.
Her mind reeled, certain those words came from the ghoulish image. Though dimly aware of the rest of the gang around her, she was unable to pull away her horrified gaze. Was this it? Was everything she had ever felt to be true and good a lie? Was she in hell?
The monster raised its other hand and opened it, revealing another anguished face. Her mother’s old boyfriend. Even in her shocked state, Raquel remembered the living hell he had put her through. She felt no pity for him. He was where he belonged.
She gave a shriek of rage and pain, pushing aside her terror as adrenaline pumped through her veins. With a primal scream, she raced forward, pulling the bat over her right shoulder. The monster returned her scream with a howl of its own but made no effort to move as Raquel brought the bat around to smash the face of her mom’s ex. The impact spun the monster. Raquel caught a glimpse of her mother’s face swinging toward her, its long tongue lashing out at her. She dropped to the cracked pavement and rolled away. When she could stand, she held the bat in front of her, but the thing just stood there.
“Mikey? Is that really you, Mikey?”
Raquel heard Throttle’s voice and risked a glance over her shoulder. Another monster had stepped out into the street and was holding one hand out toward the big man. “Keep away from it!” Throttle took another step toward the monster, mesmerized. Tiny reached out to pull him back, but the writhing tongue lashed out from the palm-face and wrapped itself around Throttle’s neck. Before anyone could react, the area around the tongue began to hiss and smoke. Throttle’s screams of agony echoed through the crumbling buildings before turning to a gasping gurgle. Throttle’s head fell from his shoulders. His corpse jerked a couple times before toppling to the ground.
