Prophecy: Rapture

by Brenna Lyons

  The door opened, and Brian sighed again. His irritation quickly turned to amazement as Harris walked into the room cradling the defamator as if she were a baby. He deposited her in the front pew of the small chapel, then moved a few feet to the side.

  At first glance, it seemed unbelievable that this young woman could be construed as a threat to anything. Her clothing was filthy and crusted with dried blood, mud, and some sort of mold. Her hair was matted. Cuts and bruises covered every inch of her body that Brian could see. She was unsteady, incapable of even standing.

  A sudden image of himself as Pontius Pilate, presiding over a beaten and half-dead Christ, loomed in his mind. What kind of barbarians were they that they would do this? Brian turned on Harris. “What happened here? You had orders.”

  Harris spoke calmly. “Yes, I did. I was told to detain her. Believe me, it was harder than it sounds. First, Blake let her escape into the tunnels. Then she dove headfirst into a cave in. I pulled her out, and she still fought me like a cat. Frankly, I’m surprised she’s still alive.”

  Blake started to protest, but Harris cut him off.

  “Go guard the entrances. Take Timms and Cason to help you. Maybe you can do that right.”

  The younger man turned a dark crimson and opened his mouth to say something more. As he shut it and stalked away, Brian could almost see Blake’s thought process. The man wanted to say something, but he hadn’t because he was facing Harris. Blake wanted nothing more than to be like his idol, but Blake wasn’t Harris, and Brian wasn’t sure that even Harris would want to face down an angry Harris.

  There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as the young mercenary faded from view. Brian returned to the matter at hand. He surveyed the young woman again. The old woman that was detained with her sat stiffly behind her with a hand on her shoulder. The gesture was protective, supportive, and loving.

  His eyes widened. “I know you, don’t I?” Brian asked her.

  “You should. You killed a baby twenty-two years ago. I handed you that baby.”

  Brian sucked in his breath. “You handed me the wrong baby.”

  The old woman sighed. “That depends on your point of view, I suppose. I didn’t hand you the baby you asked for, but I believe I handed you the baby you were intended to have. As much as I grieve the loss, I have to believe it was for a greater good.”

  He peered down at her. “So, you sacrificed an innocent child?”

  Her face was calm. “No. You did.”

  The simple statement cut through Brian’s soul. It was true. A sudden thought came to him. “What is your faith based on?”

  The old woman smiled and shook her head. “Does that really matter to you?” she asked.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “I believe that we are all children of the Ladies, who protect and love us all.”

  “She’s a heathen.” The voice boomed from a dark corner.

  Brian looked at the cocky older man with a certain amount of contempt, as he stepped out into the light streaming through the stained glass windows. Brian had never cared for Anderson. He was a fanatic of the worst sort.

  Brian noticed Harris giving Anderson a cold, calculated look. The man was certainly not loved.

  The nurse sucked in her breath. “Howard? Howard Anderson, are you with them?”

  * * *

  Kyla’s head cleared slightly, as she looked at the man. The final piece of the puzzle fell into place. She knew. “He always has been, Gram. He was there the night my parents were killed. He had to move fast when he knew I saw through our other traitor. He knew I would find him, too. Was that it, Howie?”

  “Howard,” he corrected her. “Very good, but it won’t do you much good, will it?” The man’s eyes glowed in a fanatical light as he advanced in clipped, precision steps. “For twenty-two years, I thought I had succeeded in my quest to bring down this godless uprising. I waited for the moment when I might be trusted enough to bring the whole thing down. I wanted to destroy the entire thing at once.

  “Three months ago, I found I was trusted that much. I also found out my job wasn’t done after all. I finally found out why they kept preparing all those years. They weren’t ignorant of our earlier attack. They knew something we hadn’t. The evil wasn’t dead after all. It had only changed shape and continued to fester and grow.”

  Howard hesitated, and Kyla found it hard not to crack a smile. It was a male Briana.

  “I had failed, but not for long. I was trusted enough to get to her this time.”

  Howard was only a yard or so away when he lunged toward Gram. He yanked her out of the pew onto her knees in the aisle and placed a gun to her forehead. Kyla froze.

  “Do you believe in God, our Father?” he cried out.

  Kyla saw Harris edge his gun out of his kidney holster.

  Gram knelt taller, and she spoke like an old schoolmarm to her class. “Of course, I do, but why do you let the quarrel of the gods become your quarrel?”

  Howard screamed in anger. “You’d die for your faith?”

  Gram looked at him curiously. “The only things worth dying for in this world are faith, hope, and love. To give your life for anything else is a folly.”

  Howard faced Kyla with a crazed look in his eye. “What about you? Do you love her enough to save her life, or would you rather watch her die?”

  Gram’s words circled in her head. “Dying is a small thing, especially for someone as old as I am. It’s just another stage of life like learning to walk or falling in love. It should be embraced with as much zeal and not feared. The only things worth dying for in this world are faith, hope, and love.”

  Kyla reached out to her. “Gram, I can’t.”

  “Then, they win. I’ll die either way. I’m old. Please, let me die believing in what I’ve fought for all these years.”

  “I love you, Gram.” Kyla cut off the connection before she could change her mind.

  Howard scowled. “Are you too out of it to answer me?” he asked.

  Kyla shook her head and raised her gaze to him, fighting back tears.

  “Well, what is it? What’s your answer?”

  Kyla felt the color rise in her cheeks, and she got her second wind from the surge of anger coursing through her. “I love her dearly,” she stated. His face erupted in a vicious smile, but Kyla wasn’t done yet. “I love and respect her too much,” her voice cracked, but she continued in a strong, confident tone, “to demean her faith. Gram deserves to die with her faith intact.”

  Howard’s face told everyone how incredulous he found the entire situation. “You would sacrifice her?”

  Kyla’s gaze was level, and her spine was ramrod straight. “No, you would,” she repeated Gram’s words. “You should understand that, Howard. For thousands of years, Christians have died for their faith. If you stood before the Roman Emperor, and your only son would be killed in the coliseum with you right behind him unless you turned your back on your faith, would you do it? No. You would die for your faith, and you would let him die, too. Wouldn’t you? But, you wouldn’t see your son as sacrificed by you. Only by the Romans. The two of you martyred for your faith, right?”

  Howard stammered for a moment, and his hand wavered. “But...but it’s not the same.”

  “No, it’s not the same Howard, but not for the reason you think. You go into the afterlife convinced you will be welcomed into Heaven. You see yourself as righteous and true. You presume to speak for God. You believe your sins are forgiven by a word, not an act, and you believe you are forgiven for inflicting the very suffering you abhor having been inflicted on your ancestors, as if your crimes are not as heinous.

  “Gram accepts death with no promises. She believes she will be judged on her life, and she lives like she will. She never presumes to have done enough for her Goddesses or speaks for her own standing with those deities as if she knows for sure. She believes in respect for everyone despite what god they believe in, and she believes in violence only to protect the innocent.
>
  “It’s easy to have faith when you are promised a reward. How easy is it when you’re not?”

  Howard bellowed like a wounded animal. His face was a mask of pure hatred. “Then die for your false faith.”

  The shot sent a cold wave through Kyla. Gram fell backward and rolled away so her back was to Kyla. Howard moved at the last second, so it wasn’t a clean head shot. An unbelievable amount of blood poured from the chest wound.

  Kyla dropped to her knees beside her friend. She touched Gram’s shoulder and reached out with her mind. “Gram?”

  “You did well. I couldn’t have done better myself.”

  “Oh, Gram. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

  “Never fear. This is what had to happen.”

  “But...I could have saved you.”

  Kyla could hear Gram’s laughter. It was rich and joyous. “My broken body in exchange for my faith. It would have been a meaningless trade.”

  “I’ll miss you, Gram.”

  “I’ll always be here. I have to go for a little while now. May the Ladies be fair and kind.”

  “Aren’t they always?”

  Then Gram was gone. She was gone in a way Kyla hadn’t encountered before. There was a warm light where she once was. It was golden and beautiful. Kyla was glad it was warm.

  She pulled back her hand, and a tear traced down her cheek. “She’s gone. May her Ladies be fair and kind.”

  Howard hesitated. Kyla was sure he’d expected screaming or begging for repentance. But this?

  “What about you? Are you willing to die for your faith, too? Or will you admit you’re wrong?”

  “That’s your choice. I am who I am, and you don’t even know who that is. If you hate me enough to kill me, you damn yourself.”

  Howard raised the gun toward her.

  * * *

  Joe watched Stacie working the perimeter of the large center area from the safety of the linen closet near the main stairs. This was risky, but it was the quickest way they had to get to Kyla.

  Both men had been dubious when Stacie told them her idea.

  “Why not just follow one?” Eric asked.

  Stacie shook her head. “Too slow. We have to find one, stay out of sight, and hope he not only moves but that he moves the right direction. What if he doesn’t?”

  “What if they don’t take you to Kyla?”

  “They will. It’s got to be a small complement, so they won’t want to be spread too thin. Prisoners will be in one place. Plus, they’ll take me to Harris. What are the chances he’s not with Kyla?”

  “What if they shoot you?” Joe asked.

  Stacie grinned at him. “Have some faith. After all, what else is it good for? I’ll have to make it look good, though. One gun and two clips?” she asked. Joe nodded, and she shed the rest of the weaponry she had on her. Then, she headed out.

  Eric leaned toward Joe. “You’re just going to let her walk out there with a gun and ammo, aren’t you?”

  Joe grinned. “Have some faith, Eric. She’s come this far. What makes you think she won’t go the rest of the way?”

  Eric settled onto the floor and shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Joe nodded and turned toward the door. He supposed it didn’t matter if Eric had faith in what had to happen. It was Joe that had to have it. Anything else was a bonus.

  Stacie was halfway around one side of the cavernous area when a shot rang out. Joe lunged for the door, but Eric pulled him back. Joe tried to wrench his arm free.

  “No,” Eric whispered. “This is our chance. Stay cool and you’ll get to see her again. Go off half-cocked and who knows.”

  Joe nodded and looked out the door again. Stacie hurried toward the sound of the shot. Just out of view, she let out a strangled cry, followed by a heavy thump and a clatter that was undoubtedly her gun skittering across the floor. They could barely hear the exchange from down the hall.

  “Don’t move.”

  “Where am I going? You have a gun to my throat. By the way, it does serve another purpose. You don’t have to choke me with it.” Stacie was in rare form.

  “Where are your buddies?”

  “If I had someone else with me, do you really think I’d be sneaking around like this? We’re spread all over the city, checking out every deserted piece of Church property. Do you know how many of those there are? I just saw the car outside and decided to check closer.”

  “Come with me. From the sounds of it, I’d guess you came all this way for nothing, but we’ll see what Harris says. No tricks or you’ll end up looking like your friend.”

  Eric looked at him in surprise, and Joe could see the question in his eyes even though it was left unsaid.

  Joe nodded. “Kyla—” He shook his head and looked away. He couldn’t finish. It hurt to think about it, let alone say it.

  Eric placed a hand on his shoulder, and Joe turned to meet his eyes. Eric nodded and a deadly expression settled onto his face. “Someone will pay,” he promised. “They’re moving away. Let’s go.”

  Joe nodded and followed him out.

  Stacie’s response was slow and measured. She probably wondered about his reference, but she didn’t ask. “No trouble from me unless you want to hand me my gun back.”

  “Sorry,” he answered sarcastically.

  Another shot rang out, and Joe cringed.

  “Are they having target practice in there or what?” the strange man asked.

  Eric and Joe followed the voices around the next corner. They would get to Kyla quietly if they could. If not, they would fight their way in. Either way, they had a direction to follow. As she agreed, Stacie kept up a steady flow of conversation for the two men to follow. She was doing great.

  Joe reached out to Kyla, needing to know she was still there. It was risky. The concentration it required was a distraction he didn’t need.

  “Kyla? Are you all right?”

  There was a long pause, but Joe calmed himself that there wasn’t the awful vacuum at the other end, or worse.

  “I’m— I’ll be fine.”

  “We’re on the way. We’ll be there in a few more minutes.” Kyla didn’t answer, and a sinking feeling settled into Joe’s chest. “Kyla? What is it?” he asked.

  “It’s...” Kyla stopped, but a scene filled his eyes. Her hands were covered with blood.

  Joe couldn’t breathe.

  Then the image shifted. It was Gram.

  “I understand. Two more minutes. Hold on.”

  Kyla floated away.

  Eric looked at him sharply. “Something’s wrong. You heard something. Kyla?” he whispered.

  Joe shook his head. “No, it’s Gram. She’s gone.”

  Around the next corner, they heard a door squeak open.

  Stacie’s constant banter ended, and a ragged cry followed. “What the hell did you do?” she screamed. They could hear her struggling with the guard.

  “Calm down, or I swear I’ll shoot you,” he promised her.

  “Blake, drop her.” The man sounded tired.

  Harris?

  Joe motioned to Eric. It was time to move. The next few seconds seemed to progress in slow motion. Blake dropped Stacie, and she launched into the room. Joe and Eric rounded the corner, as Blake holstered his gun. Eric surged forward as Joe registered blood staining the entire shoulder of Blake’s shirt. Eric’s blow sent Blake staggering into the wall, opening a hole for Joe to rush into the room beyond. Joe heard the sickening crunch as Eric’s gun connected to finish the job. He barely registered that Eric was grabbing guns off Blake before turning into the room after Joe.

  Joe had Harris in his sights. The older man was sitting on the front pew with his gun hanging from his fingertips between his knees.

  “Gun,” Joe demanded of the other man.

  Harris looked at him wearily and dropped his gun. He kicked it to Joe, and Joe batted it back to Eric.

  Joe surveyed the rest of the room. Two priests sat up on the small riser
where the altar was placed. Neither of them looked particularly happy about their current situation. Gram lay on the floor in a pool of blood, and Joe silently said a prayer for her. Kyla knelt at the edge of the carnage with her hands folded in her lap.

  Then Joe saw something completely unexpected. Howard Anderson lay on the floor beyond Gram. The shot that took him down was professionally done. A perfect circle marred the man’s forehead. He never had a chance. But what was he doing here in the first place?

  Kyla spoke suddenly. She’d obviously heard the question in his thoughts. “He was one of theirs, the other traitor. He killed Gram and my parents. He tried to kill me, but Harris...”

  Joe moved to his left so he could see Kyla’s face. Her eyes were wide and dilated. Her face was pale.

  “Eric,” Joe called with a touch of panic.

  Eric moved up next to him. “Got him. Go.”

  Joe stepped around Stacie.

  Stacie was kneeling next to Gram. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Why Gram? What did she ever do?”

  “What did any of us do?” Joe countered. He continued weaving through the bodies until he was standing next to Kyla. Joe holstered his gun and eased down behind her. After he gathered her to his chest, he glared at Harris. “I don’t know whether to thank you for that,” he jerked his head toward Howard, “or kill you for this.”

  Harris nodded. “I know it. I should have given up this game years ago, before I ever got involved in this whole mess.

  “Redemption— I thought I had the chance to erase one drastic mistake. I’ve killed some bad people in my life. Who knew I’d end up working for the worst of them?” He glanced at the two priests.

  Eric spoke up. “Well, if you want a shot at real redemption, there are some very bad people headed this way. You in?”

  Harris looked up with a fierce light in his eyes. “Who?”

  “Reverend Steven Cole and Tim Simmons are staged outside. We don’t have much time.”

  “How many?”

  “Our sources say it’s Cole, Simmons, Billings, and six others. We have two on their rear, me, and you if you’re in.”

  “I’m in,” Stacie said. She crossed to Eric and reached out for a gun.