by J. R. Rain
“I don’t understand.”
“Once you’re in, you’re in.”
Tess’s mother’s smile broadened. “But now you are here, Tessy, and we can rejoice!”
Tess remained silent. She was still a little hurt. And what did that mean, once you’re in, you’re in?
Ricky brought her smile back. He was playing with a vine that had lowered down from above. Boy and vine played a sort of mimicking game.
The Edenites used simple, handmade musical instruments to strike up a merry tune, and many participated in dancing in the village square. These people, Tess realized, had come from all cultures and all eras, melding into one diverse melting pot in the Garden of Eden.
Tess wandered over to Jack, who was also enjoying the festivities from a slight distance. They watched Zahir dancing with a rather pretty, raven-haired Edenite.
Zahir was fully enjoying himself, twirling the woman around, and then bringing her close in a sort of waltz. She was likewise intrigued with the arrival of a new male in the village. In fact, many of the women were highly interested in both Zahir and Jack.
Zahir looked into the Edenite’s lovely eyes. “So, tell me,” he said, not missing a beat, “what’s your source of light above?”
“It’s the Flaming Sword that guards the Tree of Life, of course!” she answered merrily.
Zahir spun her around, shrugging. “Of course!” he chuckled.
* * *
The cavalcade of Hummers moved single-file through the wide tunnel into Eden. The ridiculously large vehicles barely fit. Dozens of Karakov’s men were crowded inside, all armed to the hilt. Sitting in the passenger seat, a grim-faced and determined Boris Karakov led the way in the front vehicle. They were almost there.
* * *
Thomas and Pagnian, Tess’s parents, now sat together near the bonfire with Jack and Tess. They drank a cool, refreshing liquid from leather skins.
Jack looked at Thomas. “Why is the Garden of Eden here? I mean, what is its purpose?”
“To protect the Tree of Life,” Thomas answered automatically. “It is the life support of all Earth. The Tree must be protected at all costs.”
“And how have all these people come to be here?” asked Tess, nodding to the still-lively crowd.
Thomas continued to explain. “Over time, one way or another, we have all found our way to Eden. Many of us are hundreds of years old, sustained by the life-giving Tree.”
Jack was about to respond, when a massive explosion suddenly rocked the entire Garden of Eden. The dancing and partying immediately stopped. All eyes turned to see black smoke rising in the far distance, near the entrance.
Jack’s face was grim. “They’re here.”
* * *
An emergency village meeting was immediately called. All who called Eden their home were in attendance. Jack stood at the forefront with Alana, the village leader, by his side.
Jack spoke loud enough so everyone could hear him. “The men who come today seek to destroy Eden,” he explained. “They do not see this as Paradise. They see only financial opportunity and gain. These men are full of greed.”
Alana held up a hand. “But there are safeguards in place, Jack. We are not afraid of these men. We are protected. All of Eden is protected.”
Jack clearly couldn’t comprehend this. “But, these men come bearing weapons to bypass the safeguards.”
Alana smiled. “We are confident that Eden will be protected, my new friend.” The villagers smiled as well.
Jack felt he wasn’t getting through to them. It didn’t occur to him that it may have been the other way around. Still, he tried to convince them to prepare, to defend. It was all he knew, after all. “Perhaps Eden will be protected,” he said finally. “Or perhaps not. Either way, who will protect you?”
Chapter Twenty
After blowing a massive opening to widen their path, the Hummers, filled with a small legion of heavily armed men, poured into Eden. Karakov, feeling the need for protection in his now-fragile state, sat in the rear vehicle.
His face was deathly pale, but Karakov still took a long drag on a fat cigar. He exhaled a plume of gray smoke and smiled. He would be well again, he thought to himself. A cigar wouldn’t make a difference. He was finally here. In the Garden of Eden! There was a cure here, and he knew it.
A tiny finger of flame flickered in his pupils, the reflection of the mysterious Fiery Sword that hovered in the sky like a miniature sun.
The small cavalcade made its way carefully over the arching bridge. At the stone structure’s apex, where it narrowed considerably, the Hummers slowed to a crawl. At times, the wide wheels hung over the edge of the stone bridge, but soon the procession was over and into the Garden.
Boris Karakov grinned around his cigar, surveying the land of Eden. He took a final drag, then flicked the stogie away. Who littered in Eden? Boris Karakov, in fact, didn’t give a damn about Eden. He wanted only the Tree of Life.
The Garden of Eden, the most powerful life-force on Earth, was already having an effect on Karakov. The greedy man already felt more alive than he had in weeks.
Still, the Garden worked in mysterious ways. Karakov’s men were clearly spooked. They huddled together inside the Hummers, definitely feeling watched as they gassed the huge vehicles forward in procession.
The men stomped along carelessly, digging their steel-toed boots into the beautiful and exotic plants, killing them as they made their way forward. They used their scimitars like machetes to cut away the brush.
Suddenly, a curious vine lowered down and stroked the face of one of the men. He gasped—and immediately hacked at the vine with his scimitar. The severed end of the tentacle gushed green sap as it quickly retracted.
Like striking cobras, other vines reacted, lashing out from the dense jungle canopy. Karakov’s men turned their assault weapons onto the living vines and shrubbery, opening fire.
Karakov could hardly believe what he was seeing. He watched everything from the rear, protected, in stunned silence.
One of the vines made its way through the maelstrom of bullets and promptly snaked around the neck of an unsuspecting armed man. Within seconds, it dragged him screaming up into the heights of the jungle of trees.
The men were clearly spooked. They looked to Karakov for instruction. “Prepare a flame-thrower,” he said calmly, and one of them did so.
Once the flame-thrower was brandished and ready, Karakov gave the order. “Now!” he commanded.
Flames lashed out everywhere, burning the dense jungle before them. The vines retracted and disappeared, many burnt and twisted in apparent agony.
This display of violence gave Karakov and his men a false sense of confidence, of security.
* * *
The villagers were still gathered in the square. In the near distance, they heard explosions and gunshots, coming closer by the minute.
A man suddenly burst through the crowd. Out of breath, he spoke rapidly in a language foreign to Jack and Zahir.
“Greek to me,” Zahir commented, although he could sense the man’s urgency.
“It is ancient Greek,” Tess answered. “I can only make out a few words.”
Her father translated for them. “He says our Russian friends have arrived in full force.”
Alana stood. “Then we will greet them,” she proclaimed calmly.
“No!” Jack protested. “Karakov will kill anyone who stands in his way.”
She gazed at Jack with her peaceful, bright eyes, and repeated gently, “We are protected.”
“Not from his weapons.” Jack was only trying to help. He didn’t understand their ways, or the powers of the Garden of Eden.
“It has been decided,” Alana proclaimed with authority. She calmly and quietly motioned her people into the Meeting Hall, where they waited fearlessly.
Jack glanced to Zahir and whispered, “I don’t like this.”
Zahir only nodded his head in agreement.
* * *
Karakov and his men moved roughly through the center of the village, which appeared now to be empty...until the Russian spied the Meeting Hall, now filled with lights and people.
The door burst open and Boris Karakov, with a contingency of armed men, surged in.
“As they say in the movies,” Karakov’s voice was deadly serious, “take me to your leader.”
The beautiful old woman, Alana, stepped bravely forward. Dispensing with the etiquette of introductions, she spoke forthrightly to the Russian, “You must leave before it’s too late.”
Karakov nodded to the slaver, Abdullah, who shrugged indifferently. Karakov drew his pistol and shot Alana between the eyes.
“Now,” he announced to the rest of the Edenites, “are there any others who object to my presence in Eden?”
To his men, he added, “Kill anyone who moves.”
* * *
Unknown to the village Keepers, Karakov had left half of his men behind, directing them to the Tree of Life. The Russian, secure in the knowledge that the villagers were contained, left with Abdullah and headed back to the Tree.
His men hammered hollow steel tubes into the trunk of the great Tree, tapping the oil from it. The thick, glutinous matter seeped from the tree and into buckets below. As each bucket filled, it was poured into drums, sealed up, and placed in the vehicle.
As the oil seeped from the Tree of Life, three things happened at once:
At the entrance into Eden, the eyes of the great statues guarding the way cracked open, emitting rays of silver light. The great vines, now defensive, reached down from the branches above. Like living whips, they lashed out, trying to grab onto the armed men, but the men used their scimitars and flame-throwers to fend off the living vines.
The Biblical Flaming sword, the mini-sun that had kept the Garden of Eden alive for centuries, stopped flashing. Suddenly, it sped rapidly down toward the Tree of life. It slashed through the air, leaving behind a blazing trail of smoke. The Great Sword instantly cut through the necks of two of Karakov’s men. Their heads fell to the ground, skin charred and smoking.
Boris Karakov inspected the charred human heads. He calmly glanced at one of his men standing next to him. His man held a wicked-looking weapon, part rocket launcher and part fire extinguisher. Clearly, it had been forged for just this occasion.
Karakov nodded to his man. “Do it now.”
As the Flaming Sword flew along the ground, bearing down on Karakov, his man pulled the trigger, causing a great burst of carbon-dioxide enriched foam to explode from the weapon. The foam completely and utterly engulfed the sacred Fiery Blade.
A moment later, the once Flaming Sword clattered to the ground, resting at Karakov’s feet, now charred and smoking.
Eden was now plunged into darkness. Karakov’s men, well prepared, instantly lit torches and set them around the perimeter of the Tree of Life.
Karakov’s face contorted into an insane grin. “There now,” he said, “that wasn’t so bad.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Darkness fell in the village of Keepers for the first time in millenniums. Tess’s father, Thomas looked grimly at those around him. “It appears they’ve overcome one of Eden’s defenses.”
Tess glanced up at her father. “The Flaming Sword...”
“...has been extinguished,” he finished the sentence.
At the entrance to the meeting hall, two of Karakov’s guards ignited magnesium tubes, casting the entire hall into an eerie blue light. With the absence of Alana, many of the Keepers, unaccustomed to such devices, huddled further back.
“Father,” Tess cried, “I’m so sorry. I brought all of this on Eden.”
“You did not,” Thomas told her gently. “We know many things here, dearest. We know you had only good intentions. You saved your son. That in itself is a miracle.”
But Tess crept into a corner, mournful. Jack made his way to her side. “Hey, you,” he said. “As Yogi Berra once said, ‘It ain’t over till it’s over.’”
He pulled her close. Nearby, Zahir was doing his best to entertain little Ricky, playing 20 questions, regarding all they had seen in the Garden of Eden.
Tess cried into Jack’s shoulder. “What have I done?”
“You did what any mother would do,” he said, stroking her hair. “And hey. You’ve still got your hero, right?” Jack Rome held Tess, whom he now considered his woman—he stared into the darkness and for once prayed for guidance to save the Garden of Eden.
* * *
Karakov’s men continued to fill the precious life-giving sap into buckets. They sealed them and stored them in the back of the Hummers.
Boris Karakov was weak, very weak now. He couldn’t wait any longer. He took hold of one of the buckets, scooped a cup into it and raised the cup to his lips. He drank heavily, and sap ran down the sides of his mouth.
He sat the empty cup aside. Instantly, he felt stronger. His pallid skin regained color. He felt energized and refreshed; the haggardness left him. He breathed deeply, for the first time in years not coughing. He was completely healed.
Karakov laughed wickedly and clenched his fists, enjoying the return of his strength and health.
He glanced up at the Tree of Life towering over him and his good humor disappeared instantly. He frowned. The Tree was noticeably sagging. Something was wrong. “This can’t be good,” he muttered.
* * *
In the world outside the Garden of Eden, horrible weather began. Furious storms, lightning, and hurricane winds began to rise on all continents. Tornadoes drummed up from nowhere. In addition to extreme weather, massive earthquakes and subsequent tidal waves tore across the lands...sweeping across the Earth...
* * *
Inside the ancient volcano, the magnificent stone cherubim statues that guarded Eden continued to awaken. Their outer shells crumbled away and they emerged into life. Hairline fissures spread like spider webs throughout the stone figures, and great beams of light issued from within the creatures. As their stone casings crumbled away, bright silver light radiated out of them. And they began to move.
The Biblical were massive in height and breadth; they were closer, in fact, to demons. Their once stone swords now crackled with blue fire.
* * *
Karakov, now healed, made his way back to the village. Just as he was about to step into the village meeting hall, he heard a distant rumbling. He turned to see a bright silver glow in the distance.
“It looks like we have visitors,” he commented, unalarmed. Indeed, it seemed that Karakov had thought of everything. He quickly organized some of his men, who all set up surface-to-air missile launchers.
* * *
Those within the meeting hall could feel the Earth rumbling, and through the windows, they glimpsed an eerie silver light approaching over the tree tops.
Thomas felt a dose of courage. “Here comes the cavalry,” he said.
Zahir was seated nearby, holding a sleepy Ricky in his lap. “What, exactly, does that mean?” he asked nervously.
“The Guardians are here,” Thomas explained.
Zahir turned to Jack with fright. “Those crazy statues??”
Jack glanced at Thomas, and Thomas nodded solemnly.
Zahir swallowed. “Somebody hold me,” he pleaded. Little Ricky reached up and put his arms around Zahir’s shoulders. Zahir relaxed, if only a little, and shrugged. “Better than nothing,” he said, holding the little boy in return.
* * *
Jack, Tess, Zahir and Ricky, along with the rest of the villagers, peered out of the windows, waiting for their cavalry. All were in awe as they came.
Easily as tall as the surrounding trees, two massive guardians appeared at the edge of the village. They paused, surveying the scene, then moved forward in unison, slashing with their fiery swords, and severing two Hummers in half. The Guardians continued toward the Tree of Life.
* * *
Karakov, standing at the Tree’s base, watched the approaching creatures, his f
ace now glistening from their radiating silver light. He swallowed hard, but stood his ground. “Now, there’s something you don’t see every day.”
As the living cherubim continued their approach, most of Karakov’s men scattered. But one man, paralyzed with fear, stood directly in the statues’ path. He fumbled for his AK-47, aimed it at the statues with shaking hands, and let loose with a burst of gunfire.
The bullets disappeared within the molten silver statues. Unfazed, the nearest statue slashed with its fiery sword, decapitating him.
Karakov glanced over to the great weapons prepared for him. With a new, strong and deep voice he hollered, “Fire!”
Four rockets launched at once, streaking through the air—two each plunged deep into the fiery hides of Eden’s Guardians.
Massive explosions followed that tore the statues to smithereens. Molten silver rained down everywhere. One such shard fell on Karakov’s boot, immediately burning a hole through the leather.
“Son of a bitch!” cried Karakov.
* * *
The outside world continued to destruct with fierce, raging global storms. Those who still had electricity and cable listened to newscasters issuing panicked bulletins of great destruction and worldwide mayhem...
* * *
Karakov heard a rumbling in the sky and glanced up. To his horror, dozens more cherubim circled down from the sky toward the withering Tree of Life...and toward him. They glowed like silver hawks in the otherwise darkened sky.
Suddenly, they stopped circling and dive-bombed, streaking through the air and racing straight for Karakov and the few men still with him.
Karakov leaped into action, ordering his men into place. They took up their rocket launchers and locked in on the flying cherubim.