Eternity

by Heather Terrell

  “I don’t think we should wait any longer, Ellie,” Ruth finally whispered.

  “I know, Ruth.” I sighed. “Talk to me. What did you find?”

  She passed me one of her famous binders. Flipping it open, I faced charts and graphs and statistics, as well as a few heavily highlighted newspaper articles. My head was still too muddled with anger at Michael to sort through it all.

  “Can you give me the layman’s version?” I asked.

  Ruth laughed; it was the first sign of levity from either one of us since we arrived at the Daily Grind. She whispered, “Sure. As you know, there are six seals left. If you disregard the final seal—the emergence of a very scary end-days leader—we have famine, widespread disease, economic depression, revolutions, and persecution of Christians.”

  She sounded like she was spouting off a grocery list. A very terrifying grocery list.

  “Wonderful,” I said.

  Ruth ignored my cynicism and plowed ahead. “I looked at worldwide trends and anticipated environmental events. And at first, nothing jumped out at me as a potential sign. Then I came across a few articles predicting a potentially catastrophic climatic event.” She pointed to the articles in the binder that were covered with yellow highlighter.

  “What was that?”

  “There’s this enormous volcano under a glacier on an island off the coast of Greenland. Most people ignore it, because you can’t see it and it has only erupted two times in the past couple of thousand years.”

  “Yes . . .” I said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “Well, in the past few months, it began rumbling.”

  “Rumbling?”

  “Yes, rumbling. Even though the volcano’s workings are too mysterious to make definite predictions, the articles put together some scientific data suggesting that it will erupt. Very soon.”

  I thought back to Ruth’s tutorial on the Book of Revelation, and I felt relieved. Disease, famine, revolutions, economic crisis, and persecution of believers made the end-days list. Yet, I didn’t recall her mentioning volcanoes. “A volcanic eruption isn’t one of the seven seals.”

  Ruth shook her head, and the look in her eyes was of a quiet intensity. “No, it isn’t. But, if that volcano erupts, do you know what will happen?”

  I was almost afraid to ask. “What?”

  “The articles describe an enormous ash cloud that will drift over Europe and Northern Africa. At first, airline flights will be canceled across the two continents, since it’s unsafe to fly with all that debris in the air. It will seem a nuisance for travelers and a financial threat to the travel business. Then, a domino effect will occur. Necessary medical supplies will be unable to reach hospitals and doctors, resulting in the spread of disease. The food business, which depends on air cargo shipments to deliver its products to consumers and markets, will suffer; and vast quantities of produce and refrigerated products will spoil. If the ash cloud is thick enough, the sun will be blocked, leading to loss of crops and farm animals. This would inevitably yield a food crisis.”

  “Oh my God, the volcano will break open at least two of the seals at once: famine and disease.”

  “Potentially.”

  “How likely is this volcano to erupt? And when?”

  Ruth opened the binder and drew my attention to one of her many charts. “Very likely. Scientists think it will happen quite soon.”

  “Why haven’t we seen any of this in the news?”

  “No one is looking for it. Except us.”

  I took a look down at the articles. I’d been too engrossed in Ruth’s delivery to give them more than a cursory glance. “Hold on a second, Ruth. These articles are all from newspapers like Year 2012: End of the World.”

  She nodded. “I know. It looks like the ravings of some conspiratorial, doomsday kook, right?”

  I nodded back.

  “To be sure it made sense, I showed this stuff to my dad. He said that sometimes these publications are right on the money. They’ll take reporting risks that the big news houses won’t. Plus, he checked out the science, and he said it looked pretty sound.”

  “You talked about this to your dad?” I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice. How could Ruth not understand the critical importance of secrecy?

  “Calm down, Ellie. I told him that I had a school project to try to identify the next major environmental catastrophe. You know, on the heels of the earthquakes. He was all over it.”

  “All right,” I said hesitantly. “Thanks for all your hard work on this, Ruth.”

  Ruth gave me a small smile; even though the news was troubling, she was clearly proud of her efforts. While I appreciated them, her delight surprised me. I wondered if she had forgotten what would happen to all of us if she was right.

  “Did your dad also tell you how we can stop a volcano?”

  The smile disappeared. “Well, we can’t stop the volcano itself.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  “But,” she hastened to add, “we can prevent some of the more significant devastation. We might be able to stave off the famine or some of the more virulent diseases. That way, we would be able to stop at least a couple of the seals from breaking.”

  “And how would we go about that?”

  Ruth pointed to her binder again. “By showing this to the authorities. So they can prepare against food shortages or a health crisis.”

  “So, Michael and I would waltz into the White House with your binder, and they’d immediately mobilize the foreign governments.” I shook my head incredulously. “No government on the planet is going to listen to the apocalyptic warnings of two teenagers.”

  Ruth looked down at her lap. I’d taken all the wind out of her sails with my criticism, and I felt bad. As I started to apologize, she said quietly, “True. Maybe no one would listen to two regular teenagers. What about two teenagers who can fly?”

  Ruth had a point. I bet some authority figures would take a few minutes to peruse Ruth’s binder if Michael and I flew into their offices, before they hustled us off to a scientific lab for examination. If Michael and I revealed our true natures, we would not only risk our freedom but also the main thing we were trying to protect by pretending to be normal—our parents. Then again, maybe Michael had already taken that risk by using his powers on the football field. I was confused and overwhelmed, and I desperately needed to talk to Michael.

  Where was he?

  “Michael promised me I wouldn’t be alone in all this,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

  Ruth reached over and gave me a big hug. The sympathy forced my guard down even further. And I’d been working so hard to keep it up.

  “What’s going on with you guys, Ellie? You and Michael seem so mad at each other.”

  My voice quivered a little. So much for being a strong, biblical creature. “I still love him, Ruth. The real Michael, the one I met a couple of months ago. But right now, I don’t understand him. And I really don’t like him. He’s changed so much recently. Haven’t you noticed?” It felt disloyal to say aloud the words that had been running through my mind.

  Ruth was reluctant to answer; I could tell. Still, I needed to know what she thought. Had I become fickle? Were Michael and I just growing apart naturally, not because of any big alteration in his personality? Was something—or someone—coming between us?

  “Please, Ruth. Tell me what you think,” I asked again.

  “Of course, I’ve noticed, Ellie. He’s way into football, much more than he ever was before. That seems strange under the circumstances. And he’s so good at acting normal that it sometimes seems like he’s forgotten that all this supernatural stuff happened. It’s almost like he’s—” She stopped, clearly fearful of going too far. Michael was still my boyfriend, after all.

  “Yes?” I prompted her.

  “It’s almost like he’s lost his compassion,” Ruth said slowly.

  “I know,” I answered quietly, letting the sad truth of the words sink in. “I mean, the
other night Rafe and I were walking through the school parking lot, and without even blinking, he went over to help some stranger fix his flat tire. The old Michael would have done exactly the same thing—help out another human being in need. I’m not so certain about this new Michael. Would he be too worried about being late for practice?”

  Ruth looked at me with eyes askance. “Who’s Rafe?”

  “Just some guy I met at that committee to raise money for the earthquake victims.”

  “You don’t say his name like he’s ‘just some guy.’”

  “Well, he is . . .” I said, sounding defensive even to my own ears. “We’ve been working together on getting food donations for the big fund-raiser.”

  Ruth’s voice grew low and deadly serious. She looked scared. “Ellie, you cannot let anyone come between you and Michael, no matter how confused you are about him right now. No matter how crazy obsessed he is with football. You cannot mess up things with the guy who’s supposed to help you save the world.”

  “I won’t, Ruth. I promise. When I look into Michael’s eyes, I know that he is my soul mate. And I know we will stand together when the end comes,” I said to placate Ruth. And myself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ruth and I left the familiar warmth of the Daily Grind and stepped outside. It was dark, and the near emptiness of downtown Tillinghast surprised me at first. Then I realized it was almost eleven. Most high school kids headed home after the football game, and most college students probably stuck to parties on campus. It seemed like only Ruth and I braved the Tillinghast streets.

  We had parked in opposite directions. The autumn cold was bracing, so Ruth and I gave each other a quick hug before racing off to our cars. Even though we promised to talk through our strategy in the morning, I felt entirely alone. How would I make it through the long night hours ahead of me, thinking about Ruth’s news, without knowing Michael’s whereabouts?

  He hadn’t returned my calls. Was he still mad about that morning? We had been through so much together—had been intimate in ways others could never imagine—and I found it unfathomable that he would harbor so silly a grudge. Especially now. After all, I wasn’t mad anymore, even though I had a lot to be angry about. Like his having used his powers on the football field.

  Serious concerns over his welfare started to creep into my mind. Was Michael okay? Had someone hurt him, on the field or off? Like one of the fallen?

  I’d been so angry with him that I hadn’t considered the possibility that he couldn’t pick up my calls. I thought about my parting words to Ruth about Michael and me standing together, and I suddenly felt incredibly guilty. If I was truly standing by him, I would be making sure that he was safe, above all else.

  Grabbing my bag off my shoulder, I rummaged for my phone. My hand shook with nerves as I hit the speed dial for Michael. While I listened to his cell ring, praying that he’d pick up, the distant thud of footsteps penetrated my consciousness. They sounded far away at first. Yet very quickly, they grew closer.

  I spun around, ready to confront my pursuer. Or fly away. I was part angel, after all.

  But the street was empty.

  It was probably someone running to his car in the cold. I was acting as paranoid as I had last night with Rafe. Not that I didn’t have just cause these days. As I turned down the side street where I’d parked my car, I kept thinking that Ruth and I should’ve walked together to one of our cars and then driven to the other.

  My thoughts returned to Michael, and I tried him another time. Once again, he didn’t pick up. It was too late to call his house, but I had to risk angering his parents. I had to find out if he was all right. At the same moment that I dialed the final digit of his home number, I heard a voice behind me.

  “Spare any change, miss?”

  I turned around to see a grubby-looking man on the stoop of a closed stationery store. He was holding out a can and a small, hand-lettered sign, and he was shivering visibly in the cold night air. I hadn’t noticed him before. Then again, he certainly wasn’t seated at eye level.

  I started to recoil from his appearance, from my own fears about strangers, from the unknown end-day dangers that threatened us. Then the word “hypocrite” passed through my mind. How could I beg for donations to help out some faraway earthquake victims, when I wouldn’t even give some money to a poor, downtrodden guy right in my own town? How could I accuse Michael of lacking compassion, when I wouldn’t show any myself?

  Quickly, I stuck my hand back into my purse. As I rooted around for my wallet, he said, “Thanks, miss. Anything you can give will help.”

  “Good luck to you,” I said, as I deposited a handful of change and a few stray dollar bills into his can. Then I backed away and headed toward my car. Fast. Even without the end days looming and supernatural creatures abounding, the scene was a little creepy.

  “Would you like to help even more, Ellspeth?” he called out behind me.

  I spun around. He was no man. Even from this distance, I could see his eyes had changed. There was an intensity there that was otherworldly. He was a fallen angel.

  How could I be so stupid? So gullible?

  I started running. As I rounded the bend to my car, I bumped right into him. The fallen loomed before me. He was much faster than me, so fast I hadn’t even seen him move ahead of me.

  He no longer looked grubby, even though he still wore his costume of a homeless person. In fact, he was breathtaking. Dark golden curls framed his flawless face, and his fair skin looked like porcelain. He was beautiful, uncannily evocative of a Michelangelo angel. Perhaps he had served as the inspiration centuries ago. I’d certainly never seen his like walking an earthly street.

  His finger reached out to stroke my cheek. Even though his touch was gentle, I writhed away in trepidation. Fallen angels were notorious for their ability to sway others through touch and voice, and I’d been lured in before by the wiles of the fallen. Regardless, when he next spoke, his tone so intoxicated me that I had to submit to his caress. And his words.

  “Please listen to me, Ellspeth. My name is Kael. I know you’re scared, but you have nothing to fear from me. The fallen are not the malicious creatures that you think. In fact, with you at our side, we could do so much to help humankind. We could spare humankind so much suffering—disease, hunger, the very kinds of anguish you are trying to alleviate in the earthquake victims. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  I started to pull away, until I heard him speak again. His persuasive powers were out in full force.

  “For long, long centuries—for millennia, even—we tried to hasten the prophecy that a Nephilim would return. Despite His explicit prohibition, we attempted to create you, our beloved child. Endlessly it seemed, we searched for you among the newborn humans, hoping that one of our kind had been successful. Time and time again, we found nothing. We began to lose hope.

  “Then we began to sense you. Feel the emergence of your wondrous powers—flight, insights, the call of the blood. Yet your so-called parents masked you well. So well that our hunt proved fruitless for many years. It took the surfacing of your dear friend Michael, with his tie to my lost brother Ezekiel, to lead us to you.”

  Kael paused. It seemed that he had reached his ultimate supplication. I was under his power, and all I could do was listen.

  “Ellspeth, we have been waiting for you so that we—fallen and Nephilim alike—can win back our place on earth and in heaven. And take our place as benevolent rulers of humanity.” The fallen touched my cheek once again. “Come, my child. You belong with us. Don’t leave humankind to the despair of its own devices, to the suffering that surely awaits without us.”

  His words, his touch, and his beauty enthralled. Even the compassion of his message. Instead of fighting back, as I knew I should, I found myself listening and succumbing. It sounded enticing to stand at the side of powerful beings and free humankind from pain and suffering. Even though a distant part of me knew that this play on my empathy must be part of his
game.

  The fallen stretched out his free hand for mine. I lifted my hand. As my fingers grazed his, I felt a whoosh over my head. It broke the spell, and instinctively, I ducked. Kael was left standing alone. Until he was plucked from the sky.

  I didn’t pause to see who had taken Kael or what had become of him. I dashed down the street toward my car. For a split second, I couldn’t decide whether to drive or fly away. The car might be too slow, but I didn’t want to risk running into any of the fallen in the skies. As I fumbled in my bag for the keys, I heard a terrible fight break out over my head.

  I looked upward. Although I could hear an unnatural shrieking and the crash of bodies, I couldn’t tell who was fighting with Kael in the darkness. So I turned my attention back to more important things, like finding my keys, opening my car door, and getting away.

  Finally, finally, I felt my keys, grabbed them, and turned the car lock. The moment I did, the skies grew silent. As I slid into the car, I glanced upward once last time. No one was there. Where had Kael and the other being gone? I couldn’t hesitate long enough to find out. This was my chance to escape.

  I started to close my car door, but then I felt a hand on my arm. Despite my efforts to wrench it free, the hand held me fast and pulled me out of the dark car into the dimly lit streets.

  A familiar voice said, “Ellie, don’t be scared. It’s me.”

  I thought Michael had finally surfaced. Just in time.

  I was wrong.

  It was Rafe.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What on earth are you doing here?”

  Those were the first words that popped out of my mouth. The second I blurted them out, I wanted to reel them back in. I didn’t want to sound accusatory when, in fact, I was incredibly grateful to see a friendly human face, after the scare I’d had.