Eve of Redemption (45 page)

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.

For a moment, all anyone could do was stare, then the spell broke, and panic swelled within the Rebels. Tiny barked orders, fighting to maintain some semblance of discipline, but the monsters were closing in. Raquel counted four—no, five of them now, shambling from the shadows in a slow, jerky fashion. She took a step back, jumping as she bumped into Martinez. Raquel slipped beside the big cop, her bat raised to take the head off anything that got near her.

“Wonder just how long those tongues are.” Martinez said.

“I’d rather not find out.”

Tiny tried to gather the gang to him, but the monsters made it impossible. They had been split into two groups. Raquel, Tiny, and Martinez found themselves separated from the rest of the gang. As the monsters continued to close in on them, Tiny shouted, “You guys get out of the city!” He motioned them back the way they had come. “We’ll swing around and find you. Just keep moving until you’re out of here.”

Most of the gang members on the other side wasted no time turning and running as fast as they could. Raquel turned toward the city but then stopped and risked a look back. Josiah moved slowly away from her, walking backward, his eyes never leaving her. She met his gaze, struck by its sadness. He raised one hand and blew her a kiss before turning and running with the others.

“Let’s get out of here.” Tiny grabbed her arm, pulling her away. Raquel followed, the image of her husband’s farewell burned into her mind.

J
ohn Burke sat on the floor of his cell, his head hanging between his knees. He kept his eyes focused on the floor between his feet.

Anywhere but up.

He groaned as he slid his left foot farther away from his body to relieve some of the tension in his muscles. The manacles that had chained him to the truck bed had scraped the flesh to the bone. Normally, the pain would have been unbearable, but his body had taken such a beating lately that this new agony blended in with everything else. He thought his prison might also have something to do with it. As soon as the dragon—he still found it nearly impossible to believe he had been carried away by a dragon—passed through the freezing darkness and emerged in this red-tinged world, Burke’s body had lost much of its physical sensation. Unfortunately, what had been lost physically had been found psychologically. The pain that had wracked his body now darkened his mind, leaving him lost in a bottomless pit of despair.