The Nephilim Imperatives: Dark Sentences (The Second Coming Chronicles Book 2)

by Terry James

  She didn’t have much family, but lots of friends, and the company streamed in from around the country. Some contributed to her stay at Saint B. But she knew –or seemed to know—none of them. Mary let her cogitations about the strange case die.

  Her shift would be finished at 3, and she was ready to knock off, having worked a double shift. She looked at the chart she held and flipped through the pages.

  “Looks like you are scheduled for a little bit of exercise tomorrow, baby,” the nurse said. “I think we had better get a little sleep. Don’t you? Need to be rested for that workout.”

  Cassie made no response, and Mary expected none. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

  Neither did the young woman protest while the nurse turned the chair, then positioned it so that the transition from the wheelchair to the bed would be more easily accomplished.

  Five minutes later, the job was done, Casandra Lincoln tucked between the immaculate white sheets.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cassie. You get some sleep, sweetie,” Mary Bridges said, then dimmed the switch to the right of the door before she left the room, closing the heavy door behind her.

  The room’s semi-darkened shadows surrounded the bed where the girl lay, still staring at the door the nurse had just exited. Her eyes blinked, her face reddened, and her body began a slight trembling that became more convulsive, her brown eyes turning toward the ceiling. Her eyes closed, her body violently twitching between the tightly tucked sheets that prevented her from tumbling from the bed.

  The room brightened to the effulgence of the sun. The brilliance shrank to a ball of blindingly bright radiance. The sphere moved to directly above her spasming body. It hovered three feet above Casandra, projecting hundreds of thousands of light streams that touched every point of the girl’s anatomy.

  Mary Bridges sat at the small nurse’s desk just outside the suite of rooms that surrounded her. She had completed the reports on the rehabilitating patients and would call a cab to take her to her Brooklyn apartment building--one of the perks of being a shift nurse, when getting off after a late-night shift. The cab rides were on St. Bartholomew, and it was a welcome change from having to take buses.

  She started to punch in the numbers while holding the receiver to her ear. Her face froze in amazement. Her mouth dropped open while she stared in disbelief at the door directly in front of the desk.

  Casandra Lincoln walked through the doorway. No longer the pitiful, emaciating patient in the wheelchair, her pretty face glowed with perfect health. Her tall, slim body moved with the grace and suppleness of the young, beautiful woman she had again become.

  Kristi Flannigan bolted from the elevator the second the doors slid open. She scanned the crowded entrance hall, her eyes searching wildly for the person who had moments before called to tell her she would soon be in the building’s lobby. A group of people made excited noise in the right corner of the room. There were squeals of delight, while the women she recognized as fellow workers at Guroix, Tuppler, & Macy hovered with enthusiasm around the object of their attention. It had to be…!

  She hurried, and jumped on her toes in the high heels, trying to see her.

  “Cass! Cassie!” She waved her right hand in the air as she laughed her ebullient attempt to get Cassie Lincoln’s attention.

  Cassie slipped through the circle of animated onlookers to embrace Kristi.

  “Oh, Cassie!” Kristi said, tears flooding over her cheeks, her words choked back with emotion she couldn’t control while they hugged each other in the moment of reunion.

  Twenty minutes later they were nearly alone, the many greetings of their astonished GTM associates settling into an occasional passer-by coming to Cassie and giving a brief embrace and smile.

  “I don’t’ remember anything about that night, Kristi--just walking to Morgan’s room. I don’t even remember opening the door, or whether it was open or closed, for that matter. She never closed it, so I guess it would have been opened.”

  “You remember walking toward the room, and that’s all?”

  “Well, I do remember the room was really dark, so I suppose I remember getting that far.”

  Kristi looked into the brown eyes of the girl who was one of her two best friends, thinking of what question to ask next.

  “And then you remember nothing, until…you came out of it?” She said, finally finding the question.

  “I just woke up in that hospital bed suddenly. Felt great. More alert than I’ve ever been, and nearly scared Mary to death –the sweetest woman on earth. One of the nurses who helped with my case.”

  They held hands. Kristi pulled Cassie’s hands to her lips and kissed them. She wiped her eyes, then, with a tissue she had to find by rummaging through her purse.

  “Where’s Morgie?” Cassie asked when her friend had composed herself.

  “I haven’t been able to reach her on her cell in several days. I’m beginning to worry about her.”

  “She isn’t working here any more?”

  “Yes. She’s still employed by GTM. But, she’s got this really good position. Paul Guroix assigned her as public relations account exec for some top-secret government project, some private company that has the patent on some top-secret technologies. That’s all I know. That’s all Morgan knew, before she left.”

  Kristi blew her nose and tried to think more clearly.

  “I guess we will hear from her when they let her contact us,” she said, then smiled broadly, reaching forward for another embrace.

  “I just can’t believe you’re okay, Cass. It’s just so…wonderful…”

  “The doctors can’t believe it, either, but…here I am!”

  San Antonio, Texas

  Laura Morgan answered at the first ring. She was initially disappointed that it was a male voice, having expected to talk to her daughter, who was supposed to call back. Her frown turned into a smile when she recognized the voice.

  “Chris! Is that really you?!”

  “The same old broken-down preacher, I’m afraid,” Banyon said, himself smiling with pleasure upon hearing the voice of the woman who was once his parishioner, and who had long since been one of his best friends.

  When the greetings settled, he asked, “Laura, how are the grandkids?” His tone, plus the fact that he first used her name, made her know the question was more than a conversational ice-breaker.

  “The grandkids? Why, Chris? You sound like there’s something behind your asking.”

  “The last thing I want to do is worry you…”

  “Go on… It’s okay.”

  “I’ve had a very strange experience, Laura. It involves Morgan and Clark…”

  Laura sat stiffly forward on the small desk chair.

  “What sort of experience? What did the kids have to do with it?”

  Banyon heard the angst in her voice and moved to explain in as soothing a tone as possible.

  “Don’t worry. Okay? It’s just something that concerns Susie and me a bit,” he said, then paused for her response. There was none.

  “Remember back in 1967, all of that?”

  “Yes,” Laura whispered.

  “Remember the experience I had in that cave in Qmran? The cave of the Dead Sea Scrolls?”

  “Yes, I remember that it was a vision… of end time things.”

  “Yes, well, this... experience…was like that. I was in the desert here near Phoenix, near the Estrella Mountains. I was playing fetch with my dog, Klaus, when I saw a glowing disk above a high ridge--a UFO of some sort.”

  He heard Laura’s slight gasp, but she said nothing when he paused.

  “Klaus and I went closer, to have a look. And, Laura, I was suddenly in that same place at Qumran, near the same cave. I saw it as clearly as I saw it back then.”

  “What does it mean, Chris?”

  “That’s not the half of it. Then I suddenly found myself inside the cave. It was the same as at Qumran, but different. I moved through this long tunnel, with big chasms surroundi
ng me. I went into this huge cavern. There were--” He searched for the descriptive words.

  “What? What did you see?” Laura’s heart raced. What this had to do with Morgan and Clark was all she could think of.

  “Somehow I moved around the cavern--a huge, oval room.”

  “Like the one in Taos.” Laura’s words of interruption were matter-of-fact, not a question.

  “Yes. Exactly like the one you described where you found Lori. It gleamed, like polished steel. It was a gigantic lab of some sort. And…” he tried to find the right words, and the least troubling way to express them. “I, I don’t know how to say this in a way that won’t upset you, Laura. But, remember, this was likely a forewarning, not necessarily something actually happening. That is, if it was a vision, and not just a brain glitch, or something…”

  “Tell me, Chris. Just tell me!” Laura’s words were panicked.

  “I saw Clark and Morgan… on tables. Like operating tables, Laura. The things…the dark things were, were…”

  “Things? What things? Not those monstrous cloud things?” she said in words that became teary.

  “It’s okay, Laura. It’s okay. Let’s just think on it for a second. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she replied in a breathless, resigned whisper.

  “I’m convinced this vision is from the Lord. You know, then, that He is with us. He will see us, those kids, through this, if there’s anything to it.”

  “Yes…” Laura’s whispered agreement strengthened her resolve and she straightened in the chair. “The Lord will never leave us or forsake us.”

  Chapter 12

  The light ahead meant human comforts, and the rottweiler needed comfort, warmth, and food.

  Jeddy had been through humans’ trying to harm him. He wouldn’t fall for it again. His canine instincts kicked into action the closer he got to the light streaming from the window. There was warmth, and food within. But there were human things. Was his mistress there?

  He sniffed the air, smelling good, food smells. Meat that could make the burning hunger go away. And there was warmth just inside the log cabin walls.

  “Com’ere, feller,” the human voice called to him. Jeddy sniffed the air and relaxed his bowed position in the foot-deep snow 15 feet from the open cabin door.

  “Come on, boy. It’s warm in here,” the old man urged, while he stood in the doorway, framed by the fire-lighted cabin behind.

  Instinct told the rottweiler he had nothing to fear from this human with the friendly voice. This would be good until he could find “Mommy.”

  “Good boy,” the man said, kneeling slightly to pat the dog’s huge head. Jeddy shook, sending the melted snow from his black fur.

  The old man laughed and patted the dog again, letting Jeddy smell his hand. The dog gave it a gentle lick, telling the human that he returned the affection.

  “My name’s Ezekiel. But, if you could talk back to me, I’d let you call me Zeke. Can’t tell me your name, can you? Is it okay if I just call you “Boy”?

  Zeke walked to a cabinet near one wall. “Got some stuff here you’ll like, Boy.”

  He pulled a sack from one of the shelves. “Been savin’ this for somebody just like you,” he said, pouring the dry dog food into a large pan he took from another shelf.

  Jeddy ate his fill, feeling the satisfying warmth in his stomach while the food did its nourishing work. He lapped water from a big bowl the old man had placed beside the Pan.

  “Good to have company,” Zeke said, patting and stroking the rottweiler, who followed him to near the blazing fire in the stone fireplace. Zeke sat in a rough-hewn rocking chair, then sipped from a large mug of coffee he retrieved from the hearth.

  “Cold out here in the middle of the Rockies, huh, Boy? You must have come from aways off. You just lie down on that bearskin there and get warm. You’ll be good as new afore you can say ‘peanut’.”

  Jeddy raised his head, twisting it in curiosity, his black-furred brow wrinkling.

  “Yep,” Zeke said with a laugh, scratching Jeddy’s head between his ears. “Afore you can say ‘peanut’.”

  The same hour –Pasadena, California

  “Yeah, Chris. Mom –Laura-- has told us everything.”

  Mark Lansing paced with the remote receiver, stopping to look down the stairway just off the upstairs hall.

  “Lori’s getting packed. We’re going to Colorado to look for them.”

  Christopher Banyon was silent for several seconds, then said, “Mark, I really think you should hold off on that for just a day or so.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “I told you about Randy Prouse and those disks on his trip from Phoenix to JFK. Then the strange thing with the computer screen. Randy is part of this thing, whatever it is. He’s in New York City to do a lecture at a museum on artifacts from Qumran. I know that Morgan worked there –in an ad agency, right?”

  “Yes,” Mark said. “Guroix, Tuppler & Macy.”

  “Randall wants to help any way he can. He and I have discussed it. He will, with your and Lori’s permission, do the legwork to look into what someone there might know.”

  “Randall is almost 83, Christopher. I know you’ve told me he’s in excellent shape for an old guy. But, I don’t want him risking his health by exhausting himself…”

  “I agree. But, he has David –his oldest grandson-- with him. David is an attorney in the Big Apple, you might remember.”

  “Yes. He always seemed to be a good kid. I remember all his questions about flying.”

  “He’ll help Randy get around up there. Find out what’s going on,” Christopher said, waiting, for a response.

  “Well, their mother and I will accept any help we can get. It will save us a trip to Colorado, for now, at least. Chris, we are worried, my friend. Don’t mind telling you…”

  “Don’t blame you. If it were my own kids, I…” He let the thought die. “But, let’s think this thing through,” Banyon said, trying to frame through his own concerned thoughts, the facts involved, then the best course of action.

  “Clark and Morgan haven’t been heard from in –what? Three days?”

  “Yeah. It’s been about that long since Lori talked to Morgan, or Laura talked with Clark.”

  “The kids have had dreams, or whatever they are, about the dark, cloud-like things.”

  “The same kind of things I’ve had since the time at Randolph Air Force Base. Even before that. The things that Lori’s dad was having,” Mark said.

  “Yes, and your own dad, the disappearance in 1947. All those things in that underground chamber at Taos. Things covered up, so that we couldn’t get close to investigating. Even if we could, Laura and Colonel Morgan were threatened, if they ever pried into the matters…”

  “Lori and me, too. They threatened us, in a back-door sort of way, for many years,” Mark said.

  “Oh? You and Lori?”

  “They hinted at getting my commercial pilot’s license pulled permanently, if we didn’t just let things drop. Lori had plenty of work in molecular physics projects, as long as she said nothing. The kids coming along kept her at home, so they lost that leverage. But, we’ve always worried about them. Been afraid there would be threats against them.”

  “I had that weird flashback of the vision I had in 1967. That was in 2001. The same day of the 9-11 attacks. Then, this… experience in the desert. That huge, stainless steel-looking, half-oval chamber. The kids…”

  “Clark told us he saw the same scene in a dream. Only, it was his sister and someone else in a chamber of some sort. What’s going on, Chris? I’ve got to find them. It’s driving me nuts…”

  “You and Lori aren’t alone. We’ve got to work together to find them, Mark. We’ve all been brought together again in this thing, for some reason only the God of Heaven knows.”

  New York City, same day

  David Prouse greeted his grandfather with a hug that made the elder Prouse wince with discomfort. Randall’s oldest grandson stood the f
ull 6’ 4” that he, himself, once stood. At 82, he thought, the temple begins to collapse. No, is already pretty much in a state of collapse, he corrected the thought…

  “What’s this all about, Grandpa?”

  The younger Prouse, a 29-year-old criminal defense lawyer by training, and one who was viscerally determined to get to the heart of matters by nature, walked with his arm around his grandfather while they talked.

  “Wish I knew,” Randall Prouse said when they stopped at one of the gigantic entrance ways to the Empire State Building. “There are things going on I can’t wrap my old gray sponge around.”

  David laughed, remembering fondly the funny terms his granddad always used. He was amused, too, because he considered his grandfather one of the brightest bulbs on the planet.

  They entered through the Fifth Avenue side, the elder Prouse scanning the vast lobby. His eyes first met the sign for Finesse Jewelers against the south side, then people moving in every direction, or standing in crowded lines, boarding and disembarking from the famous old building’s escalators that led to the elevators. The lobby floors and walls were of luxuriant black and gray marble, their beauty appearing like flowing molten lava. The marble was broken in zigzag patterns, with maroon lines that gave the structure, finished in 1931, the elegance he had heard about --the architectural gravitas rightfully belonging to one of the most recognizable landmarks in the city. David ushered his grandfather to the part of the building that had always fascinated him most. “This display is terrific, huh, Grandpa?”

  Randall looked at the black-and-white photographic display of Fay Wray, in her scenes of the most famous of all movies involving the building, King Kong. The great beast, in a later version of the movie, held Ann Darrow as the gorilla curiously tinkered with her clothing. A commemorative plaque to Fay Wray completed the tribute.