Behold ! Page 11

  “Yes we’ll use them,” Frank was saying on the radio. “I know every one of those guys; they’re all either retired law enforcement, prior military, or CLEET certified,” he said, referring to the Oklahoma Council on Law Enforcement Education and Training, and to one of the local chapters of self-defense citizen organizations.

  “Send them to the churches and synagogues in teams of four, full gear. Many of them are as well equipped as we are. Tell them to set guards at the front doors, and lock and barricade all the other entrances. And make sure they know; nobody fires a weapon except in direct self-defense of immediate threat to life,” Frank admonished. “Make sure they acknowledge that, even though I know they already understand the drill.”

  As the radio squawked with yet another call, he saw his wife’s eyes flare bright white. “Stand by,” he spoke into the radio before turning his full attention to Raquel.

  “This is unheard of, but these are unprecedented times,” she said carefully. “My brother Camael, whom your world knows as the Archangel of strength, courage, and war has agreed to accept Jason’s offer. Jason, be certain this is what you want. The effects can be... alarming, at the very least.”

  First Jason just nodded, but then he spoke to ensure there was no misunderstanding. “I’m sure, and I’m ready. What do I need to do?”

  “Just sit back and relax, and open your heart to Camael,” she replied. “I sense you have a warrior’s spirit, and will suit him well.”

  Everyone was expecting something dramatic, and they were all slightly disappointed. Jason closed his eyes and relaxed visibly, twitching once, and then again. His right leg jerked, and his face contorted into a grimace for a moment, but he didn’t cry out. When he opened his eyes, they shone a bright, light bronze.

  “Hello, sister,” Camael spoke. It was still Jason’s voice, but there were richer undertones of power in the timber.

  “Brother, tell us what transpires,” Raquel asked immediately.

  “This is no simple outbreak, nor is it a random testing of our responses. This is an uprising,” he finished harshly. “As most we can tell, Azazel, Harut, Allocen, Mastema, Asmoday, Balberith, and Leviathan are involved and Amom awaits. They’re all being led by Abaddon.”

  “Not Amom, too?” Raquel whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

  “Yes, sister, I fear it is true,” Camael replied softly.

  “But, how is that possible?” she insisted. “Allocen has influence, as does Balberith, and Asmoday’s influence is already most obvious from all the...sexual assaults, but Amom cannot activate his legions, not without the Gates of the Pit being opened, and Maalik stands guard there, with his nineteen.”

  “Each of those I’ve just mentioned now walk this planet and influence crowds of weak-minded humans into becoming uncontrolled mobs,” Camael replied. “And all across the planet, the seven gates are being assaulted by these mobs, each led by one of the seven. The fights in this country are going on in Pennsylvania right now, and in a town called Hell’s Gate, TX. It is some 300 miles from here.”

  He paused, shaking his head in a very real human expression of bafflement. “As more humans surrender to their more base instincts and answer the call for violence, more are willing to allow possession. At some point, this will no longer be just rioting and mob action; they will succeed in overwhelming at least one of the gates. Should one fall, it will be only a matter of time until they all do so, unless these mobs are stopped now.”

  Looking forlornly around their company, he concluded with, “And I fear we are not enough for the likes of these denizens of the darkness.”

  “I have so many questions, I don’t know where to begin,” Marrisa started. “But I do know, I’ll do whatever I must to prevent that from happening, including allowing an angel to use my vessel.”

  “Jason has asked to speak to you directly, Marrisa,” Camael said.

  The bronze glow in his eyes extinguished, and Jason spoke. “Ma’am, you need to know that what we were talking about earlier is true in reverse. The only way for one of the demons to defeat one of the angels is to kill their vessel.”

  He paused for a moment to let that register. “Now, I don’t have any family except my parents, and they’d miss me sorely, but they knew that risk was there when I put on this uniform. You have a daughter to think about, and she needs you more than most kids need a parent. I just wanted to make sure you’re aware of that.”

  Marrisa bowed her head and seemed to be carefully weighing the information, but when her head came back up she was smiling. “That may be the first time I actually felt like God heard my prayer, because he answered me. Who is Sariel, besides an Archangel?”

  Jason’s eye flared bronze, and Raquel’s head snapped into focus on Marrisa. “You have spoken with the Father,” she breathed. “What has He told you what about Sariel?”

  “He told me Sariel understands the gravity of our dire situation, and is willing to join in the fight using me as his vessel,” she said. The sharp gasp from Priscilla had Marrisa turning to her daughter immediately. “Sariel is an Archangel, and because of that, I as his vessel will be much harder to kill. In fact,” she smiled convincingly, “I’ll be almost invulnerable. Apparently, Sariel packs a lot of punch.”

  “Indeed he does,” replied Raquel. “He is one of the original seven, and is the equal of any Archdemon of the Pit. Many of us feel he is even Lucifer’s equal. He is called the Angel of Eternity and Trembling, and he has primordial powers. Father sends him into battle reluctantly, and it has been over 2,000 years since he last strode the earth.”

  “It is good our brother Sariel joins the fray. With his guidance, we may yet succeed,” Camael said with a concerned look.

  “What is it, brother?” Raquel asked.

  “If Sariel is willing to fight, you know the level of his restorative powers,” he said. “And, as Priscilla’s injuries were man-made, Sariel may in fact be able to restore her condition. He’s also well known for his protective powers.”

  “No,” Marrisa shouted. “I will not allow you to put my daughter in harm’s way.”

  “Mom, you just said you’d be almost invulnerable, and if they can fix me; how can you not let them?” Priscilla was crying and nearly screaming at the end. “But you can put yourself in harm’s way without considering where that leaves me? How is that right?”

  Marrisa sat and stared at Priscilla for several long seconds, and then rushed across the room to drop to her knees beside Priscilla’s chair. Hugging her fiercely, she sobbed, “I’m sorry, baby. I wasn’t thinking of you, I was thinking of me again.” Smiling through her tears, she said, “I don’t like it, but this may be the miracle we’ve been praying for.”

  Turning to Camael, Marrisa wiped her face and said, “Will you ask Sariel if he’s willing to do that, and if he thinks he can; heal her, I mean?”

  “I shall, and if you’re still willing to be an angel vessel, there are others waiting, in fact anticipating, involvement,” Camael replied.

  “Bored to tears after millions of years, huh?” Ham said. He had been sitting quietly throughout the entire exchange, and everyone had basically forgotten he was there. “If there are others who want a host, I’m more than willing, especially if it fixes me,” he concluded.

  “Hamilton, I’m so sorry,” Raquel smiled gently. “Your condition is the way God made you; only He can change that. He has a higher plan for you, I believe.”

  The look on Ham’s face was heartbreaking. The compounding facts of Priscilla having her injuries healed, Frank being resurrected, Jacob being made right, and even Marrisa getting into the fight was more than he could stand. He spun his chair around and headed into the kitchen and then down the hall.

  Marrisa started after him, but Pris stopped her. “Let me, mom,” she pleaded. When Marrisa nodded, Pris wheeled after Ham.

  “So, when does Azrael make his appearance?” Marrisa asked, sitting down and getting comfortable.

  “How do you know of Azrael?” Raqu
el asked, dumbfounded.

  “Your Father and I had quite the conversation,” Marrisa replied. “He told me of how all which just happened, might, and He said Azrael and I would be a good fit.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  “YOU MUST ACCOMPANY me to Texas,” Camael said to Marrisa.

  “Wait, I thought we were going to Hellam Township, Pennsylvania?” she replied.

  When you were going to welcome Sariel, yes,” he replied. “But now that Priscilla has accepted him into her vessel, he is needed there, while you and I must rush to the defense of Hell’s Gate.”

  “But, I don’t understand. Why can’t Priscilla and I go one place as Azrael and Sariel, and you and Carl go the other?” Marrisa insisted.

  “These are Sariel’s decisions. He is the most military-minded of us all, but we need martial experience with us as well, so Azrael is the obvious choice. He has not the power I command,” Camael explained patiently.

  “Uriel and Sariel are both Archangels, and Sariel is Father’s Commander. Their powers are more needed in Hellam than in Texas right now, so this is where we all must go.” The last was spoken in an I’ve explained myself now, so no more argument tone of voice, and Marrisa knew there was no point in further discussion.

  “We’ll be joined by Hofniel, the Father’s favorite soldier, Arariel, who cures stupidity, and Hemah, the Angel of Wrath,” Camael explained their assignments. “Uriel and Sariel will have Cassiel, Father’s Anger and Speed, Ariel, Father’s Lion, and Adriel, the Primary angel of Death. They go against Abaddon the Destroyer, and his mob of angry humans.”

  Ham had not returned from the back of the house, but there was suddenly a great shout from that direction. All present except Clara turned for the hallway just as Priscilla cartwheeled into the room.

  “Mom, mom, mom,” she exclaimed. “Look, I’m fixed. I’m whole again. I can walk, and jump, and...everything,” she shouted, while demonstrating each action physically.

  A knock came on the front door, and Frank’s hand snaked toward his revolver before sheepishly realizing the level of power in the room. If three Archangels and the angel of destruction couldn’t stop what might threaten them, his revolver surely wouldn’t. Going to the door, he opened it to find Carl standing on the stoop.

  “Hello Carl, or is it Uriel?” Frank said, stepping back to allow him entry.

  “Carl is resting now, I’m afraid all this excitement has been a bit much for him,” Uriel explained. “And I’ve brought company.”

  Sergeant McElroy strode in behind Uriel, accompanied by a man and woman Frank had never met. Tamping down his suspicion, he waited for Uriel to make the introductions.

  “This is the Angel Hemah,” Uriel said, indicating McElroy.

  “And this is the Angel Hofniel,” he said indicating a well-built young man with quick, cat-like mannerisms.

  “This fine young woman is the vessel for my welcome Sister, Arariel,” he said indicating the last of the party.

  Frank looked at Hemah for a moment before simply saying, “The Angel of Wrath, huh? Most of the newbies on the force would already agree,” he said with a smile.

  The light in McElroy’s eye dimmed momentarily, and McElroy said, “And when we’re done with this, they still will.”

  Turning to the young woman, Frank asked, “So, who are you when you’re not hosting an angel who cures stupidity?”

  Plain, clear, human eyes regarded him for a cool moment before her crisp voice said, “I’m Sharon Caruthers, and I’m a Junior High School principal.” The grin which erupted on her face told everyone she appreciated the great irony of the situation as well as they.

  The young man locked eyes with Frank for a moment and said, “We’ve never met, but I have great respect for you, Lieutenant. My kid brother was one of the young boys you rescued from the pedophile no one else had been able to catch. I’m Daniel Santos, and I’m a Navy Seal.”

  “Thank you Daniel, I’m glad we found your brother Fernando in time, but I had lots of help,” Frank said, indicating Clara. “And I’ll bet Hofniel is chomping at the bit to give you a test drive.”

  Golden light flared in Daniel’s eyes, and he laughed. “We’ve had several interesting conversations already regarding certain techniques I promise to teach him.”

  Frank wondered who was teaching whom, but didn’t have the time to ask. As he looked across the room, he noticed Marrisa and Priscilla were still locked in a warm embrace. They seemed to be whispering to each other.

  “We need to leave right away, time is of the essence,” Camael said, taking charge of his team.

  “Take my sedan, it’s full of gas and should take you the 300 miles easily. Use the lights and siren if required,” Frank offered to Jason. “I’ll get another vehicle.”

  “I’ll be leaving mine here,” Jason replied. “You can take it to the airport.”

  “Actually, we have Carl’s station wagon,” Uriel said. “The police vehicle may be needed, so we’ll take it to the airport, where we’re all catching the red ass to Philadelphia.”

  Several people laughed, and Uriel looked puzzled.

  “Catching the red eye is an airplane ride, catching the red ass is what we’re all about to do,” Priscilla shared. “Come on, I’ll explain it in the car.”

  In less than three minutes, the house was empty except for Frank, Ham, and Clara.

  Raquel had left the building again, and neither of them had any idea when she would return. Frank stepped back and closed the door, turning to Clara with a sigh of relief. She was shaking her head, and Frank went to her side.

  “What is it?” he asked earnestly.

  “Ham is inconsolable,” she replied. “I can feel his enmity growing with each passing second, and its misplaced target is God. Raquel has asked her Father to speak with him, but so far, nothing has happened.”

  “Maybe I can talk to him,” Frank said hopefully.

  “I certainly hope so,” Clara replied. “It hurts my heart to see him so morose.”

  HAM WAS SEATED FACING the picture window in Clara’s bedroom. The lights were out, and the scant illumination from the neighborhood street lights did little more than silhouetted him against the glass. His slumped shoulders and head hanging dejectedly told Frank all he needed to know.

  “Ham, are you hungry? Can we go fix a sandwich? As long as it’s not a BLT, I mean.”

  Frank’s effort at humor fell on deaf ears, and Ham mumbled, “Thanks, I’m not hungry.”

  “Look, buddy, you may still be in a wheelchair, but how many 13-year-olds can punch somebody from across the room? Or make things fly around at will? You’ve still got your super powers, and I think they’re permanent; unlike angel possession, which is temporary.”

  “I’m not upset because an angel can’t fix me, I’ve already settled into this role and I’m comfortable with it,” Ham replied dejectedly.

  “Then what on earth is going on?” Frank asked brusquely. “Are you pouting because you didn’t get to go fight the bad guys? Because let me tell you, there’s plenty of them right outside, and with all the angels gone, we’re going to need your help more than ever.”

  “No, it’s not that either. I’m looking forward to kicking some bad guy butt,” Ham replied, now in a monotone.

  “Then tell me; what’s the matter with you, please?” Frank asked gently.

  “Priscilla isn’t going to want anything to do with me, now that she can walk and all, again,” he admitted.

  “What?” Frank shouted. “Is that what you’re moping around about? Boy, have you got it all wrong,” he shouted joyfully.

  “What are you so happy about, and what do you mean?” Ham shouted back.

  “What’s all the shouting about?” Clara called from the doorway.

  “This bonehead thinks Pris isn’t going to want anything to do with him, now that she’s not in a wheelchair anymore,” Frank said with exasperation.

  “Dear, he’s not a bonehead, any more than you are,” Clara chided gently. “A
lthough he is wrong in his conclusion,” she continued, rolling across the room to stop at Ham’s side.

  “Priscilla would still want to be with you if she could fly and you were totally bedridden,” Clara offered, using the most understandable analogy she could come up with.

  “How do either of you know that?” Ham asked. “Oh, yeah, you’re clairvoyant.”

  “I don’t need to be clairvoyant to know that Ham,” she replied. “All I have to do is look at her when you’re in the room. She’s got it bad for you, young man.”

  “I’m glad you can tell, because I sure don’t see it,” Ham quipped.

  “Because she looks at you the way I still look at Frank,” Clara said sweetly, looking up at her startled husband.

  Ham looked up beseechingly at Frank for confirmation, who gave him a befuddled shrug. “How am I supposed to understand females?” he said. “I’m just a cop.”

  Ham hung his head one more time and whispered softly, “I’m sorry, God.”

  And for the second time in one evening, in one household, God spoke to one of his children.

  “No need to apologize, little one, I knew you would figure it out soon enough.”

  “But, why didn’t You just tell me?” Ham asked plaintively.

  “You needed to hear it from one of your own kind.”

  “Okay, so I get to keep my super powers?” Ham asked, getting excited.

  “Absolutely, and you’re going to need them in about 20 seconds.”

  “Huh?” Ham said. Turning to Frank, he said, “God told me I get to keep my super powers, and I’d need them in about 20 seconds.”

  There was an explosion from the front of the house, and they all clearly heard the front door smash against the wall as it was blown open.

  “I wish they’d quit doing that,” Frank said.

  TWENTY-THREE

  FRANK WAS FIRST TO the entrance of the room, weapon at high ready. Ham was ten seconds behind him, but it was a long ten seconds. Frank spotted four men who must have felt the house was empty, because they were standing in a loose circle discussing their options in low tones.