End of Days

by J. F. Penn

  Truth be told, he was nervous about bringing the sarcophagus down here. Somehow it suddenly made everything real. The ancient Brotherhood of the Serpent had survived as a secret organization for longer than history recorded, perhaps unbroken since the times of ancient Egypt, when Moses raised his brazen serpent in the desert. As much as the Cardinal believed the apocalyptic rhetoric, he had not seriously believed that he would be part of the End of Days.

  Until he had seen the markings on the sarcophagus earlier.

  Now it was here and doubts crept in. He didn't know what would happen when it was opened. What if he couldn't control the following events? His plans were for an earthly battle, the positioning of pawns on the chessboard of military strategy, enhanced by religious conflict. A changing of the guard in the Middle East, where it was time for Christianity to take a stronger role again, as it had in the Middle Ages. It was likely that Cerastes and Echis thought exactly the same thing: that they would be the ones to triumph once the status quo was gone. But what if none of them were able to contain whatever was in here?

  The Cardinal sighed and pressed his hand against the cold stone of the tunnel wall, letting the physical sensation anchor him to what was real. It was all superstitious nonsense. The Great Serpent was allegory. There would be nothing but dust in the chest.

  But he had to make sure.

  He had promised to wait until Cerastes and Echis arrived before opening it, but he needed to know what they were dealing with.

  They finally rolled the sarcophagus into the cistern and Samael dismissed the men, sending them back up to the Old City with enough money to keep their mouths shut. He indicated Krait should stay.

  After the footsteps and coarse laughter faded into silence, only four of them stood in the chamber looking at the sarcophagus.

  "Do you have the seals?" the Cardinal asked.

  Samael put down his pack and opened it up. He pulled out each stone seal in turn and placed them on the floor in front of him.

  "There. Seven in total."

  Lilith knelt by the seals, her fingers reaching out to touch them. The Cardinal bent to pull her away.

  "Don't touch them! You're not worthy."

  As he yanked back her shoulder, she turned her face up. The hood fell away. She hissed at him, sibilance echoing in the chamber.

  The Cardinal gasped, his hand flying to his mouth in shock. The woman's face was skeletal thin, her green eyes slitted and glazed, her tongue forked as it flickered towards him.

  Samael put his hand on her shoulder. His eyes met the Cardinal's, warning him away.

  "It's alright, Lilith. The Cardinal was just trying to honor the Great Serpent. He didn't realize how close you are to Him. How well you have taken to the venom."

  "I …"

  The Cardinal didn't know what to say, but if this was what the venom could do, then he was glad he hadn't taken it himself. He straightened his robe and took a deep breath. "Well then, perhaps we should take a look inside."

  "Yesss. It is time." Lilith's voice made the Cardinal shiver, as if it called to something base inside, the part of him that descended from a common vertebral ancestor.

  He glanced over at Krait.

  Samael saw his look. "Oh, you can trust Krait, and he deserves to be here."

  The Cardinal nodded. Part of him wanted to be one who opened the casket, but he couldn't risk himself. Let Samael take the chance. "Proceed."

  Samael picked up the first seal and pressed it to the sarcophagus on top of the indent matching the seal's markings. His fingers shook a little as he slotted it into the ancient stone.

  Nothing happened.

  "Do the next one!" the Cardinal ordered.

  Lilith handed Samael the next seal and once again, he pushed it into the waiting space. Nothing.

  Impatient now, he quickly added the next and Lilith joined him, adding the others until all seven were tucked into their spaces on the edge of the sarcophagus.

  The Cardinal held his breath, waiting for something … He didn't know what. But all this effort couldn't have been for nothing. His heart sank as he considered possible failure.

  Then something inside the stone casket clunked.

  A crack appeared along the side.

  The sound of thunder rolled through the cistern as if a storm crashed directly overhead. The great pillars cracked and chunks of masonry fell from above. The Cardinal fell to his knees, protecting his head with his arms. Lilith cried out in an exclamation of excitement.

  The top of the sarcophagus creaked open. Just a crack, but it was enough.

  Samael turned to Krait. "A crowbar, quick."

  Krait grabbed one from the corner of the room. Together, they wedged the end into the crack and began to lever the heavy lid up and away from the side, managing to push it up an inch further.

  A salty musk of decomposition rose from the opening. Both men recoiled, hands clutched to their faces in disgust. The Cardinal coughed and tried to swallow down the retching that threatened to overwhelm him.

  Something had died in there. A long time ago.

  But Lilith bent to the crack. She put her face close to it, inhaling the noxious smell as if it were roses, her face contorted in ecstasy. What the hell did she sense that he couldn't?

  "Pusssh it further." Her eyes glinted with excitement. "So we can see inside."

  Samael wedged the crowbar back into the gap and between them, he and Krait managed to lever the lid even further, sliding it back until it crashed on the floor behind the open casket.

  Lilith was the first to look at what lay inside. Her hands flew to her mouth in shock.

  "No!" she cried.

  The Cardinal stepped forward to stand next to the sarcophagus, Samael and Krait next to him. He looked within.

  It was half-filled with grey-green dust, like a powdered form of algae. A deep disappointment filled his body, along with a rising anger.

  Samael pushed the end of the crowbar into the dust, raking it around a little just to check if anything was beneath. There was nothing. He turned to Lilith.

  "I guess you were wrong."

  Her eyes flashed with anger. She wrenched her hand back, putting all her weight into slapping him across the face.

  Her serpent ring caught his lip and a drop of blood flew from his mouth to land in the green dust.

  "You bitch –" Samael’s words stopped abruptly as he saw the blood droplet soaking up the green powder. It changed, hardening and shimmering in the torchlight until it was a perfectly formed bright green polygon.

  The Cardinal bent to pick it up and held it to the light.

  "Is that what I think it is?" Samael said softly.

  The Cardinal nodded. "It's a scale."

  Lilith plucked it from his fingers. "We need more blood."

  26

  The Cardinal backed away from the sarcophagus, retreating to the corner of the cistern. Sam met Lilith's gaze, understanding flashing between them.

  He spun around with the crowbar, smashing it into Krait's face.

  The man flew backwards, stunned at the sudden attack, clutching his broken face as he moaned in pain. Sam whirled the crowbar round again, whacking Krait in the kneecap. The man went down, roaring in pain. Sam raised the weapon to swing the final blow.

  Krait surged up from the floor, like an angry bull charging for its life.

  He smashed Sam into the side of the sarcophagus. Sam doubled over as the air was driven out of him.

  The crowbar fell clattering to the floor. Krait's hands found Sam's neck and squeezed, even as the blood from his injuries dripped down onto the floor.

  "You bastard," Krait grunted. "After everything I've done for you and the Brotherhood."

  As the edges of his vision began to fade, Sam saw Lilith pick up the crowbar. She swung it at the back of Krait's head.

  It connected with a sickening thunk. Krait's hands dropped away and he spun to face the new attacker. It looked like the blow had done nothing but anger him further. Sam fell t
o his knees, choking on the floor, trying desperately to catch his breath.

  Lilith backed away, her hands raised in supplication.

  Krait advanced on her. "It's about time you …"

  His words trailed off as he faltered. His hands clutched at his head, and then he slumped unconscious to the floor.

  Lilith rushed to the fallen man. She grabbed his hands and pulled him back towards the casket.

  "Help me! He won't be out for long."

  Sam stumbled to his feet and helped lift Krait's body. Together they heaved him over the edge and into the sarcophagus. He thumped down into the grey-green dust, some of it rising to hang in the air around him.

  Lilith pulled a knife from her belt. Her green eyes glinted with black slits again, and Sam wondered once more who she had become. She pulled back on Krait's hair with one hand, exposing his throat.

  Then she plunged the knife down and tugged it towards her, slitting his jugular vein.

  Blood gushed from the wound, pumping out on to the dust. It began to transform into scales that drew themselves together, coalescing into clumps, then tiny worm-like creatures. They wriggled over Krait's body, dissolving his skin and slipping inside, becoming part of him. Eating his body from the inside out. It was mesmerizing to watch.

  Suddenly, Krait's eyes flew open in agony.

  He tried to sit up, gurgling through the bloody wound at his throat. Sam and Lilith pushed him back, holding him down in the dust as he became a writhing, pulsating mass of bloody flesh.

  The Cardinal joined them at the edge of the sarcophagus once it was clear that Krait was really dead. They stood in silence as the body was consumed. By the time it was done, a long chain of scaly lumps lay writhing on the top of the grey-green dust. It wasn't a serpent yet, but Sam could see the beginnings of what it might become. He could feel a twinge of excitement in his belly. This mess of half-formed thing was nothing, but there was still a great deal of grey-green dust remaining.

  Lilith still held the bloody knife. She turned towards Sam and the Cardinal. "None of us go in there. Agreed?"

  The Cardinal nodded. "Of course. There are plenty more we can find to pay the blood price." He looked down at the writhing mass. "How many do we need?"

  A smile played across Lilith's lips and she flickered her forked tongue in the air as if tasting the sacrifice to come. "Ssseven is the sacred number."

  Sam had plenty of contacts on the darker side of the city. He looked at his watch. "Give me a couple of hours."

  The Cardinal nodded. "Hurry. The confluence of stars and the full moon eclipse coincide at 9:33 p.m., when Jerusalem will be in darkness. My brothers will be here and together, we will greet the Great Serpent."

  Morgan and Jake got out of the taxi at the Damascus Gate. Originally built as a triumphal entrance in Roman times, the existing sixteenth-century gate had been built by the Ottoman Sultan, Suleiman the Magnificent. It was hot and noisy since the ancient place was right next to a busy bus station and highway intersection. Jerusalem had ever been a vibrant city, concerned more with the living than the empires of the dead. Tourist groups headed into the city following guides with colorful umbrellas, while locals expertly dodged those taking photos.

  Jake finished paying the taxi driver.

  "Martin said that a sarcophagus arrived last night as part of a shipment for Hebrew University but it never arrived. It was diverted to a residential area in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City."

  "We'll head that way then," Morgan said. "Through the Arab souk."

  They walked together under the arch. The Old City walls towered above them and Morgan felt a renewed respect for the city she had grown up with. It seemed she only came back here at times of crisis these days. When she did, the longing to stay welled up within her. But there were so many ghosts of her past here, Elian and her father, old friends who had moved on. She had another life now.

  The narrow streets of the bazaar bustled with people. Tourist shops catered to all religions here, some stalls selling Jewish yarmulke alongside olive wood crucifixes and gilt plates inscribed with Arabic calligraphy. The smell of falafel wafted from one tiny shop, the fried chickpea balls with salad in pita bread a Jerusalem favorite.

  Old men sat outside their shops drinking tiny cups of thick black Arab coffee, flavored with cardamom. Women in hijab haggled over the price of vegetables while the sound of the muezzin drowned the noise of the market in the call to prayer. As they walked past the Stations of the Cross, a group of Christian pilgrims chanted as they carried a life-size wooden cross on the route Christ himself had walked.

  At the edge of the Jewish Quarter, Morgan stopped at a fruit stall piled high with light green melon and brilliant red pomegranates. Plastic cups filled with chopped pieces of juicy fruit stood at the front of the stall. She paid a few shekels to the vendor and picked two up. For a moment, she and Jake just stood on the edge of the market relishing the diversity of the city, enjoying sweetness after a long journey.

  The sun warmed Morgan's face and the sounds of the souk swirled around them. Morgan tried to embrace the moment. Even without Ben in her life anymore, she had her family. She had Jake. Yet she was walking into danger once again, and her anger had driven her here. It was hubris to think that they could somehow stop the End of Days. This city was threatened daily by destruction, but it had continued to survive for thousands of years. Fruit sellers had sold to weary travelers since the earliest days in this very spot. Romans, Crusaders, Ottomans, Jews. They would continue after she and Jake were long gone.

  Morgan took a final bite.

  "Right, let's find this sarcophagus."

  They ducked through an ornate arch and emerged into a square. Morgan looked towards the golden Dome of the Rock on Temple Mount before them, a sense of foreboding rising within her.

  "Parts of the Jewish Quarter are awfully close to the boundary. I wonder …" Her words trailed off as she stared up. "There are rumors of tunnels underneath the Temple Mount. Excavation isn't allowed, of course."

  "But what if there was a way to get underneath?" Jake shook his head. "This would be the perfect place to kick off the End of Days."

  Morgan pulled out her phone and called Martin.

  "Can you scan through the plans for this area of Jerusalem? I want to know who owns the buildings, particularly the ones closer to the edge of the Temple Mount."

  "Give me ten minutes."

  Morgan turned to Jake. "Let's keep walking. We might find something."

  The white stone reflected the heat of the sun, keeping the interiors cooler. There were no gardens in this densely packed neighborhood but flower boxes bloomed in little windows, a glimmer of color against the pale walls. There were mezuzahs on the doorposts, little decorative boxes containing parchment inscribed with specific verses from the Torah, the prayer of Shema Yisrael.

  Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.

  Morgan remembered the mezuzah by her father's door in Safed, decorated with the sacred blue of Kabbalah. Israel had taken so much from her, but its intensity was the bedrock of her life. Maybe the ghosts were not those of the dead who remained here now, an echo in the olive groves and ancient ruins. Maybe she was the ghost. Flitting around from country to country, living on the edge for the mission and leaving a piece of her soul behind every time.

  A buzz on her phone.

  "I think I've found it." Martin stumbled over the words. "It has to be him, it has to be that man, that –"

  "Slow down, tell me what you've found."

  "There's a Vatican retreat house a few streets from where you are now. Three years ago, plans for interior modification were filed with the Jerusalem council. The name on the application was Eric Krotalia."

  "The Cardinal?"

  "The very same."

  "Send through the details and we'll head over there now."

  This time he would make sure everything would be done properly and with ceremony, as befitted the momentous occasion. The Cardinal lit the
final candle and looked around in satisfaction. Golden light flickered in the corners of the stone vault, dancing over the open sarcophagus and its writhing inhabitant. He shivered a little, and he knew it wasn't the cold.

  Thoughts of the Great Serpent had filled his mind since he was a boy in the hills of rural Greece. As a young orphan he had been taken in by the local monastery and it was there he had started his rise within the Church. He had been recruited as a young priest into the Brotherhood, drawn to them by the promise of a rapid ascent through the layers of ecclesiastical hierarchy. And now he stood at the crux of history and yet …

  He walked to the open sarcophagus and looked down at the pathetic creature within. It was just a big lump of green and grey flesh, writhing with some kind of life force imbued by the death of the first man, Krait. It was base and gross. The Cardinal shook his head and exhaled slowly. Where was the majesty? Where was the terror?

  What would Cerastes and Echis think when they arrived? Had they really sent the world into turmoil for this?

  He turned away, disgusted at his own lack of faith, but he couldn't look at the thing any longer. He could only hope that Samael brought enough bodies to turn it into something worthy of his allegiance.

  The sound of singing came from the corner of the room. Lilith sat on the ground, painting her skin with swirls like the undulations of the serpent. He had forgotten she was even there. She looked up at him, her green eyes flickering.

  "You doubt, Cardinal. He knows thisss."

  Her smile was predatory and he wondered again at her sanity, but he also felt a white-hot jealousy at her seeming trust in the serpent. He made up his mind. He would take the venom at the time of sacrifice. He would join her in her deep faith as the Great Serpent was resurrected.

  There was a scuffle of footsteps in the tunnel. Samael walked in with a group of men, each carrying a body wrapped in a shroud over their shoulders. The men laid their burdens down in front of the sarcophagus and retreated back up the tunnel, hurrying away with the haste of those fleeing certain death.