The Fourth Trumpet
Page 6
The man, dark-skinned, and somewhere in his seventies, was shivering from exposure…and undiluted horror. His lean face dripped with perspiration and mist and, to Andrea’s dismay, saliva. His gnarled hands shook so much the walking stick clattered to the floor. Keith helped the old man into the living room and got him onto the couch. Andrea didn’t wait for words of introduction or explanation, but hurried into the kitchen to make him a cup of hot tea.
So used to lighting the stove and getting everything ready in the dark, Andrea could’ve done the whole thing blindfolded. With only a flashlight or a single candle for light, she might as well have been blind.
By the time the tea was ready, Keith had the white-haired man in one of Uncle Mike’s clean shirts, his feet propped on the coffee table, and a blanket draped over his thin shoulders. Andrea had to hold the cup for his first few sips. The man’s shaking hands refused to hold the hot mug steady.
“Mmm, thank you. That is good. Thank you. Thank you,” he murmured.
After he drank half the cup, Andrea set it on the table, then sat on the floor facing the couch. Keith sat beside the old man.
“My name is Keith Reynolds. This is Andrea Gardner—this is her house, by the way—and that’s Carrie Vanderpelt, my neighbor.”
“Thank you. Thank you. My name is Eleazar. Eleazar Thomas. I am so grateful for your kindness.”
“Mr. Thomas—” Andrea began.
“Eleazar, please. Call me Eleazar.”
“Eleazar. Do you know what’s happened? Why we’re surrounded by this-this darkness? My family just disappeared. And my neighbors were killed. And we’ve heard terrible sounds outside and there are monstrous things—”
“Calm down, Andrea. One question at a time. The poor guy’s been through a lot already.” Keith waved a hand in her face.
“I’m sorry. I’m just so confused. And worried.”
The dark-skinned man offered a weary smile and leaned forward to pick up the mug in both hands. He took a long swallow, closed his eyes for a second, then looked at Andrea. “Zephaniah 1:15,” he whispered.
“Excuse me?”
“The book of Zehaniah, chapter one, verse fifteen.”
“What are you talking about?” Andrea shot a puzzled look toward Keith.
“He’s quoting a Bible verse, Andrea,” Keith explained.
“Oh. I’ve heard of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, but Zepha-what? Where’s that in the Bible?”
The old man smiled again. “It can be found at the end of the Old Testament.”
“Oh, okay.” Andrea didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t that familiar with the Bible.
Eleazar turned his eyes toward the pregnant girl’s huddled form in the recliner across from him. He tilted his woolly head in her direction. “The young woman seems quite ill. May I pray for her?”
Keith looked startled but nodded. The old man closed his eyes, raised his arms, and began speaking in low tones. “Heavenly Father, hold this child in the palm of your hand. Send your angels to comfort her. Rebuke the demons who torment her and cause her to doubt your infinite love and mercy. Protect the unborn child she carries in her body. Give her strength. Give her courage. Give her peace of mind. Flood her soul with grace and may the Holy Spirit light the way so she can find her way through this present darkness. Amen.”
Then Keith shot to his feet. “Thanks, Eleazar. You did that like a pro.” Keeping his back toward the old man, he grabbed a poker and made awkward jabs at the burning logs in the fireplace.
The old man chuckled. “Well, thank you, thank you. Yes, I guess you could call me a pro.” He cleared his throat. “I am an ordained minister—have been for the past forty-seven years. I am pastor at the Twin Oaks Baptist Church, about, oh, maybe two, three miles down the highway, past the intersection.”
“I know the place,” Andrea said. “Isn’t that the little white church with the double oak trees in the front? They’re incredible.”
“Yes, yes, that is the one. Those two oaks were planted side by side and when they grew they just fused together. People come out from as far as the city to take photographs of our trees. The trees’ entwining is so symbolic that I have married several couples under them.”
“Neat.” Andrea smiled at the man, but kept Keith in the corner of her eye. The younger man looked preoccupied and that disturbed her. She’d been leaning on him for moral support. If Keith lost confidence, then she would, too.
Andrea jumped when Keith whirled around, eyes shooting more sparks than the fire, and spat out, “Eleazar, sir. Can you shed any light—no pun intended—on this damned darkness and-and impossible mystery we seem to be wallowing in?”
The minister winced, closed his eyes, and clasped his gnarled hands together in unconscious prayer. After a full minute of silence, he looked at each of them in turn, coughed, and said, “No. I cannot explain this. I am as confused as you children are.”
“Damn. I was hoping you’d know something.”
Eleazor held up both thin hands. “Alas, I do not.”
Clamping his mouth shut, Keith fell into the nearest chair.
The old man smiled. “I can only tell you my experience.” He ran a tongue across his lips then continued. “I was at the church. I write my sermons there. I find my mind thinks more clearly when I am in the sanctuary. I had stayed later than usual. It came upon me so suddenly—so unexpectedly—that I was caught by surprise. All I know is that it became very dark. So dark, that I could no longer see what I was writing. I tried the lights. They no longer worked. I thought, perhaps, a fuse had blown. Then it occurred to me that we might be under a tornado warning that somehow I had missed. I remember going to the window and I-I saw—”
The old man stopped and lowered his white head to his chest. No one spoke or even moved for an eternity. Finally Keith prodded the man to continue. “Sir? Eleazar? What happened? What did you see?”
The elderly minister raised his head, a single tear rolling down his weathered cheek. He shook his head. “‘The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? When the wicked came against me to eat up my flesh, my enemies and foes, they stumbled and fell—’”
Keith looked annoyed. “Sir, please. What happened?”
Eleazar thought for a moment, then said, “I saw nothing but incredible darkness. Darkness so thick that I feared a great fire must be burning nearby. I grabbed my walking stick—I need it when I walk the grounds—and went outside to see the source of the great inferno but saw no signs of a fire anywhere in the sky. There was only the darkness. And then-and then I heard it. The wailing.”
“Oh, God. We’ve been hearing that, too,” Andrea interjected. “Do you know what’s making it? Where it’s coming from?”
“Those who came to the wedding feast improperly attired,” he said. At their look of utter confusion, he added, “‘Then the king said to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, take him away, and cast him into outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’”
Keith couldn’t hide his annoyance. “Reverend, sir, we appreciate your fondness for quoting the Bible—I mean, that’s what you do, right? But, please, we’re looking for some answers, here. We want solid facts. Do you or do you not have any idea what’s going on?”
The pastor sighed. “Only that we are facing the greatest crisis of our lives. We must repent.”
“Excuse me?”
“‘And a third of the sun was struck, a third of the moon, and a third of the stars, so that a third of them were darkened.’” He paused, lost in thought. Then he looked directly at Keith. “Son, I am as lost as you are. My only source of solace is in The Book.” Fumbling in his trouser pockets, the trembling hand emerged with a worn little cloth-covered bible.
Keith shook his head and barked out a laugh. Grabbing the flashlight lying on the coffee table, he headed toward the kitchen.
Andrea jumped to her feet. “Where’re you going?”
“Oh. Okay. Right. Do you want me to go—” Andrea swallowed, “—to go with you? You can’t carry both buckets and the, uh, flashlight.” She was trying very hard to squelch her rising apprehension.
“I’ll manage. I don’t need you. I’ll be fine. If I have to, I’ll make two trips. And if I see or hear anything, you can bet I’ll come right back.”
The young man disappeared. Andrea resumed her seat on the floor. The three left in the living room didn’t talk. Eleazar and Andrea waited. And listened. Each poised, alert, ready to spring into action if Keith needed them. Carrie, on the other hand, burrowed deeper inside the folds of her blanket.
Andrea heard the grandfather clock again. She found herself counting the tick-tocks as they grew louder and louder in the unearthly silence. Soon, she couldn’t separate the ticking from her own heartbeats. This was insanity.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Puh-thump, puh-thump, puh-thump—the beats swelled, reaching crescendo. Without thinking, Andrea placed her hands against her ears and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Pastor Eleazar interpreted her growing distress. Reaching down, he patted the top of her head.
“‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me.’”
Andrea dropped her hands and let them fall into her lap. Still chewing her lower lip like a small child, she looked up at the elderly black man, looked into kind, brown eyes. “Aren’t you afraid?” she asked.
He smiled. “Yes. Of course I am afraid. I am only a weak, humble man, made of flesh and blood. I am afraid. But not of death.”
“You seemed pretty scared when you pounded on our door. You were screaming something awful then.”
“I was very much afraid. I had walked so far. In such darkness. Surrounded by unseen beings who were suffering untold anguish. But, it was not I who was screaming, my dear. I do not know who was doing it, but it was not I.”
“All that wailing wasn’t coming from you?”
“No. I admit I was terribly disoriented and fatigued beyond my normal endurance, but I was not weeping. The voices followed me as I made my journey from the church. They were the ones crying out. Yet, I saw no one and nothing touched me.”
“You didn’t see the monsters? Big cat-like humans with horrible yellow-green-slit eyes?”
“No. I saw nothing but darkness, a darkness that wove its way in and out through the trees and appeared like thick smoke from a fire such as I cannot even imagine.”
“You walked all the way from your church to our house? In that horrid darkness?”
“Yes, as remarkable as it may seem, I walked—hobbled, really—all the way here. I was drawn to the light.”
“The light? What light? We have only a few candles burning and the fireplace. How could you possibly have seen any light coming from this house?”
“I guess it was a miracle, my dear.”
“If you say so.” Andrea fidgeted. The subject bordered on the insane. The last thing Andrea wanted to talk about was miracles. The poor old man had nothing else to hang to, so let him have his delusions. She would focus on reality. She pushed up from the floor and cracked her stiff neck. “I wonder what’s keeping Keith. I think I’ll go stand on the back porch and wait for him.”
Leaving the old minister to sit with Carrie, who remained lost in her voluminous blanket, Andrea groped her way into the kitchen without bothering with a flashlight. After what the old man said about seeing their feeble lights, it made Andrea eerie just thinking that their lights could attract that much attention. It seemed impossible, really, and she doubted the old reverend actually had seen their light, but just to be on the safe side, she’d stumble in the dark. Thor, who hadn’t gone with Keith, followed.
The back door was open a crack, which was understandable. Keith would have his hands full and wouldn’t want to bother with trying to open a closed door. She stepped out onto the small back porch and peered through the thick, enveloping blackness.
No sounds, no movement. Anywhere. Surely, she’d be able to see Keith’s flashlight from here. Wouldn’t she? Her thoughts a mile away, she patted the top of Thor’s head. He sat on his haunches close beside her, drops of spittle making splats on the wooden floor.
She wanted to call out Keith’s name, but fear kept her mute. She couldn’t risk rousing one of the things.
And then she sensed something.
She didn’t hear or see anything. But she sensed it.
Something was out there, but hanging back, waiting. Waiting for what? For her to come running out in search of Keith? She grabbed the dog’s collar and tightened her fist. Where was Keith, anyway? Why didn’t he come back? The same fear that had kept her silent now loosened her tongue.
“Keith! Keith! Can you hear me? Keith?”
No answer.
“Keith! Please answer me! Keith, where are you?”
A movement from behind made Andrea let out a frightened yelp. Eleazar put a hand on her shoulder. “Hush, dear girl, it is only I.”
“Oh! Sir, you scared me half to death.” She swallowed. “Something is out there. And I can’t see Keith. I should be able to see his flashlight from here. The creek is only a little ways away. Down there.” She pointed a trembling hand in the general direction of the gurgling stream.
Eleazar leaned forward, straining to pierce the cloak of darkness that prevented him from seeing. He grunted. “I do not see anything, my dear. Are you sure he is still down there?”
“He has to be. He hasn’t come back, and there sure as heck isn’t any place else he’d want to go.”
They remained on the porch for several minutes and listened. Finally, drawing a deep but ragged breath, Andrea whispered, “I have to go out and find him. He may be in trouble.”
“Send the dog.”
“What? Send Thor? I don’t know. He might not go. He isn’t as protective of Keith as he is of me.”
“Try.”
“Okay.” Andrea bent down and held the German shepherd’s face in both hands. Looking deep into his soulful brown eyes, she gave her command. “Thor, find Keith. Find Keith. Go. Find Keith, boy.” She shoved the dog forward with her knee. He bounded down the few steps and was swallowed instantly by the ominous Nothing.
The old pastor and she waited, neither one attempting to take a breath or move an inch. They waited and again Andrea felt herself straining to hear something. Was Keith dead? Would they find him later, lying on his back, staring into infinity like the Martins? Andrea closed her eyes as a sinuous dread slithered down her back.
TEN
“‘For there will be a great tribulation,’” Eleazar muttered.
Andrea allowed a glance in his direction. “What’d you say?”
“I was just praying, my dear. Do not pay any attention to a silly, old man.”
Andrea didn’t. Instead, she put her whole attention on the desolate scene before her, the swirling, smoky blackness that’d taken over the land—the entire world, for all she knew. She wanted to scream or pull her hair out. She wanted to hit something…or somebody.
Something dreadful had happened to Keith. Nothing would keep him out there this long. It should’ve taken him only minutes to fill the bucket, grab the other—darkness or no darkness. The things had gotten him. That was all she could think about. The things were out there lying in wait for their prey, patient, satisfied that they’d get what they wanted. Sooner or later.
When Thor barked, Andrea jumped a foot. Deep, throaty barks that sent slivers of ice down her back. Swallowing, working up enough saliva to use her voice, she yelled, “Thor! Come here, boy. Thor! Come.”
They heard a shrill yelp of pain, and then silence flooded over them once again. Andrea
looked at Eleazar with panicked entreaty pouring from her blue eyes. The older man just shook his head and muttered, “‘The Lord will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble, and those who know your name will put their trust in You; for You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You.’”
“Would you quit with the Bible quoting. Jeez! Something’s wrong. I have to go out there. Something horrible has happened.”
“Dear girl, you cannot go out alone. It is too dangerous. What could a slip of a girl do where a full-grown man could not?”
Andrea balled her fists and thrust her chin up, marched down the porch steps and stopped. She listened. She wanted to search for Keith and the dog, but her courage was melting like an ice cube in August. Fear prevented her from taking one more step.
“He’s gone, isn’t he,” a small voice said behind her.
Andrea whirled around in surprise. Carrie had come out onto the porch—arms wrapped tightly around her chest, but with eyes clear and focused. “Carrie. You startled me. You shouldn’t be up. How do you feel?”
“I asked you a question, Andrea. Keith’s gone, isn’t he? First Rob. Now Keith.”
Andrea shrugged, hands out in quiet supplication. “I don’t know.”
“He’s been gone too long, hasn’t he? He should’ve been back by now. It got him, didn’t it? It got Rob and now it’s got Keith. It will get you. It will get me. And my baby.”
Eleazar put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and tried to guide her back into the house. Carrie wouldn’t budge. “My husband’s dead. He’s left me. And now Keith has left me. Pretty soon everybody will leave and I will be all alone. What’s going to happen to my baby?” Her voice rose to a wail.
At that, the pastor used more force and was able to turn her around. Pushing gently but firmly, he walked her through the kitchen and back into the living room. With one more look over her shoulder, Andrea followed. Her heart was a lump in her throat and tears were welling up and threatening to spill over. She didn’t think she’d much strength left either. If this was the way things were going to be, she wanted to die, too.