“How was your trip?”
“It was fine except for some idiot on the freeway who swerved and almost hit me. I think there was something in the road he tried to miss, but I can’t be sure since I didn’t see anything. It was a close call. Other than that, the trip was fine.”
John’s face showed concern as Kathy told him what happened. Then after a few seconds he said, “I’m glad you’re okay. How is Mark doing?”
“To be honest, I’m worried about him. You know how strong a man he is and how he takes pride in solving everything. I guess it’s an extra dose of that macho male stuff that you and he have. But since he can’t find the answers he wants about Jacob’s death, he’s gotten so irritable and depressed… it isn’t good.”
“I’ve been praying for you two,” said John. “I don’t know why, but I sense that it is important that I pray for you.”
Kathy stared at her father, dismissing his comment as those of an irrational but harmless religious person. She did not put any credence in his faith but knew that it was important to him, so she politely smiled and said, “Thank you.”
“Did you get a hotel like you planned?”
“Yes. It wasn’t too far away from here.” She shifted from one leg to another. “You never did send me the new key since you changed the locks,” she said, scolding him with a look.
“I know. As the young people say nowadays, ‘my bad.’”
Kathy smiled. “No matter, I’m here now.”
John pointed to a drawer next to his bed. “The keys are in there.”
She retrieved his house key and slipped it into her purse. “Are they going to release you today or tomorrow?”
“Not sure. Believe it or not, I was able to get up and walk around this morning. It hurt, but I did it. That danged gallbladder really did give me a run for my money. I haven’t felt that much pain since I stubbed my big toe back in ‘75.” Kathy smiled again.
Behind them the angel Ramah watched and repeatedly glanced out the window. Just then, nearly a hundred yards away, the air shimmered and seemed to bend, and a rip opened in space. Darkness poured through just for a moment, and then the portal to hell closed itself.
John felt odd and stopped smiling. He looked out the window.
“What is it, Dad?” she asked.
After a moment he said, “Nothing. It must be the medicine.”
***
Mark was still trying to adjust. Was he really face to face with an angel? He reflected on the previous night, when he saw Sotare emit light and watched him disappear in front of his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to say. But there he was, not really knowing what to do or believe. He asked, “Are you for real?”
“Yes,” replied Sotare.
Mark was both unnerved and surprised at his own composure. I’m taking it all rather well, he thought.
But, because he still wasn’t sure he wasn’t losing it, he asked, “And how do I know I’m not crazy?”
“You’ll figure it out,” responded Sotare with a smile. “We can begin wherever you want to begin.”
Mark checked himself, wondering if he was insane, dead, or just plain hallucinating. Everything seemed normal. Mark smelled the air, listened to the soft noises of the wind through the garden. He could feel the warmth of the sun as it filtered through the trees. It was all real, all normal. He thought of the initial shock last night of seeing Sotare glow.
“Pretty cool light show last night.”
“Thanks. I hope it wasn’t too upsetting.”
“Well, it was a bit unnerving. But I’m okay now.”
“Good.” Sotare shifted in his seat. “I thought the best approach was to just be direct.” He looked at Mark expectantly.
Mark, obviously still adjusting, was surprised at how easily he seemed to accept the conversation.
I’m talking to an angel, he thought. This is for real.
He examined Sotare. He had a pleasant face, nice smile, and calming voice. “So, I just ask questions, and you answer them?” Mark was, of course, still suspicious of the situation’s anchor in reality.
“Basically, yes. But please understand that some of the answers you receive may not be easy to take. Truth is not dependent upon what you want or feel. Truth is independent of your desires. It is absolute.”
Profound words, thought Mark. This guy is direct. Without moving his eyes, he shifted his attention to the sounds of the garden once again, checking reality. He noticed the slight breeze on his skin and the sounds of the rustling leaves. This moment was almost dreamlike and he needed to let his senses inform him that he was not in some delusion. It was difficult to know where to begin.
“Well,” said Mark, unsure. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m still trying to accept all that has happened, especially you. I still find it hard to believe, even though I watched you glow last night, disappear, and then reappear here just now. You’ve got to admit, it’s a lot to accept.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it is so incredibly out of the ordinary. I still have my suspicions that I might be hallucinating. In fact, I can hardly believe I’m so calmly just sitting here talking to you.”
“But, being out of the ordinary does not mean it isn’t true. I am sure that there are many things that you believe that are also out of the ordinary. Hasn’t mankind put several men on the moon? This is indeed extraordinary, yet you believe it easily.”
“That’s because I’ve seen it with my own eyes…” he paused, “uh…on TV.” Mark knew that it was possible that what he’d seen on TV had been faked. Of course, he didn’t have any reason to doubt that it was authentic.
“Then, what is so difficult about believing that angels exist?”
Mark wasn’t sure if he should continue the discussion along these lines. The fact was he was having a conversation with Sotare. He needed a reality check, so he jumped into more familiar ground.
“It isn’t scientific,” responded Mark.
“I see. How’s that?”
“Well, because…” he paused, “…because science hasn’t verified the existence of angels.” Mark knew he was reaching.
“Yet here I am.”
Mark couldn’t deny that.
“Mark, science can’t be the measure of all things. Can it verify integrity? Can it measure love? Can it quantify anguish…or faith?”
“That’s philosophy.”
“Even science has its philosophical basis, like believing that everything can eventually be understood by science. That’s an assumption. How do scientists test that science is true without first making assumptions?”
Mark thought about what he said and decided to drop this line of reasoning. “Would it be rude of me to ask you to once again appear and disappear? I would like to be prepared and actually expect it. That would help.” After a pause he added an unsure, “…I hope.”
Sotare smiled. “I’m not in the habit of appearing and disappearing to prove who I am. But, if that is what you want I would gladly oblige you.”
Mark nodded. “Yeah, maybe it would help.”
“Would you like a countdown or something?”
Mark chuckled. Somehow Sotare’s question calmed him. “No, that’s fine,” he said with a smile.
“Okay.”
Mark watched. Right before he eyes, Sotare slowly faded away and was gone. Even though Mark was expecting it, it still surprised him. He looked at the seat and forced himself to focus. “It’s empty,” he said to himself. Mark waved his hand into the space where Sotare had been sitting.
“Satisfied?” Sotare’s voice materialized in front of him. Mark was unprepared for the disembodied words.
“Yeah,” he said quickly as he withdrew his hand.
Mark kept staring in front of him, and just as he expected, Sotare reappeared. Mark took it all in. “I’m either completely crazy or you are real.”
“Which is it?”
“Well,” said Mark with a sigh. “I would prefer to think it’s not the former.
I saw what I saw. So it looks like you’re real.”
“Thanks. I’m happy to find out I’m not a figment of your imagination.”
Mark smiled. “Me, too.”
Sotare relaxed in the cushioned bench and looked at him expectantly. Mark also relaxed and thought about what to say. The two of them contemplated one another for a few moments. Sotare looked up briefly, then back down to Mark. He smiled, raised his eyebrows, and nodded slightly, signaling it was Mark’s move.
Mark’s face grew serious. There was a single question that begged his greatest attention. He braced himself and figured he might as well dive in. “Why did my son Jacob have to die?”
***
Through the rip in space a demon slithered into the light. Ramah focused on the new menace and opened his wings slightly in response. The demon hovered in the air, waiting for the rip to close. Then it circled once before finally gaining its bearings. It turned towards the hospital and began a slow approach.
Ramah looked at John and then back at the demon. He slowly walked towards the window, studying the evil spirit, seeing if it had any wounds, any possible weaknesses. It was strong, dark, and had long black talons and large fangs, typical of its kind. It carried with it the stench and smoke of hell and would be here in seconds. Ramah prepared himself. He opened his wings wide, looked to heaven and said, “May the Lord be with me.”
The demon had seen the angel through the hospital walls and was rapidly flying in to attack. It pounded its wings faster and faster against the air and, just before it entered, moved it legs forward to reveal a double set of talons that protruded from what resembled hooves. Ramah crouched down, brought his wings in close, and then leaped out through the wall into the bright sky. He braced his shoulder as he aimed himself and, a split second before they collided, Ramah tilted his wings just enough to miss the demon’s claws, smashing violently into its chest. Both were dazed. Both were falling. Ramah regained his composure first and lunged at the enemy. The demon recovered before Ramah could grab it. It spat yellow bile into his face and beat the angel with a gristly wing as it moved away. Ramah lunged and struck the demon hard with a closed fist slamming its skull backwards. A string of green slime fell through the air, along with two fangs. It shook its head, hissed, and furiously attacked Ramah by digging into his back with its claws. Ramah grabbed the creature by the throat and squeezed hard. Both tore at each other, clawing and punching frantically. The demon tried to grab Ramah’s wings but they were beating so rapidly, the creature couldn’t get a grip. Ramah kept squeezing the demon’s neck, trying to subdue it.
The demon was relentless, however. It clawed at Ramah’s arm, twisting its head to bite, but Ramah punched it again and grabbed at a wing, hoping to break it. The demon elbowed Ramah in the face. The blow was hard and stunned the angel for a moment, making him lose his grip on the demon’s throat. This gave it time to rise above the angel only a few feet and then it violently descended upon him, slamming its hoofed feet into Ramah’s chest. Ramah plummeted through the air but regained his position two seconds later and ascended quickly. The demon folded its wings and dove headfirst. They met in another vicious collision. Ramah grabbed it in his powerful arms and drew it close to him as he tried to crush it, but the demon fought violently, kicking and punching. Ramah reached for its throat again, but the demon deflected his attempt and scratched at Ramah’s face, opening his skin. The angel responded with three rapid-fire and powerful punches to the demon’s face, but the creature, only slightly stunned, kept coming. It fought with fists, feet, and fury. It used its wings to beat Ramah and clawed at his legs with its talons. They hammered at each other furiously, wrestling, writhing, and punching.
In a moment, both drew back and hovered; they were damaged, weakened. Each assessed the other’s condition. The angel was wounded. He had suffered gashes to his side, wing, and leg. The demon was oozing something disgusting from its neck and mouth. One of its wings was clearly injured and it labored to stay aloft. Ramah quickly rose in the air to gain the advantage and began to descend for another attack, but out of nowhere a second demon struck him from behind. The stunning blow dazed him momentarily. He heard and felt the grinding crack of something in his body. Ramah fell, wings unmoving, dazed, in pain, the ground approaching. Below, another rip in space opened.
Ramah looked down and then back up at the demons. They were closing fast. He opened his wings but found that one was damaged and responded weakly.
The gash in the air grew wider. Now two demons were almost on him. With great effort, he forced his bad wing to open just enough for him to avoid being caught by the trap. Agonizing pain seared through his injured wing. It functioned, but only partially, so he closed it and plummeted downward, trying to put distance between him and the enemy. His descent increased their separation, but not for long. All Ramah could do was look for a place to hide. He glanced in every direction until he found a church. Would it be a true one? If it weren’t, he’d be defenseless. With no other options, he plummeted towards it, the demons in hot pursuit. One of the demons growled in anger as it realized where Ramah was headed. Both demons flapped their wings harder, narrowing their bodies as they tried to increase their speed. They were gaining on the angel, the scent of his blood hot in their nostrils. Ramah braced himself and within seconds, he had rocketed down through the roof of the small church into the sanctuary.
Ramah threw his wings open like a parachute and, enduring the great pain in his bad wing, he braced for impact and slammed into the front of the church. Two guitars that had been resting in their stands fell over with a loud clanging. Ramah crashed into the wall and fell to the floor.
Down the hall in an office, the pastor heard the noise of the falling instruments. He looked up from his Bible, waited a few seconds, and decided to investigate.
The two demons descended through the roof and found Ramah. Almost instantly, they recoiled, in frustration and fear. This church had the presence of the truth and Ramah lay next to the pulpit where a Bible had lay open. The evil creatures howled and retreated up out of the building and disappeared into the sky, cursing as they fled.
The pastor entered the sanctuary. He looked around at the empty room and then at the two guitars. No one was there. Then he walked down the center island up onto the platform. Two guitars had fallen down.
Ramah lay on the floor next to them, unseen and injured.
The pastor looked around the room again. He listened but heard nothing. The guitars were close enough where one could have knocked the other one over, but it had never happened before.
“That’s odd,” he said aloud. His own voice echoed lightly in the sanctuary. With one more visual check around the place and being satisfied that everything was okay, he put the guitars back in place and then headed down the center aisle to his office.
“Pray,” said Ramah aloud. “Pray.”
The pastor stopped abruptly and turned around.
“Pray, please pray,” came Ramah’s words again. He was holding his side, wincing as he spoke.
The pastor listened to the silence of the sanctuary. He sensed something. It was faint, but he had felt it before. He knew from experience that sometimes the inexplicable desire to pray manifested for a reason. Though he was tired and looking forward to going home to his wife, he thought about praying. Was it from God?
“Pray,” said the angel again.
The pastor felt another impression. He looked at the pulpit and then at the musical instruments.
“Pray.”
He walked over to a pew, sat down, and bowed his head. He did not know what to pray for so he only asked that God would hear him and that his will would be accomplished. Then the scripture popped into his mind about how we wrestle not against flesh and blood but against principalities and powers of darkness. He began to pray for the will of God to be accomplished in the spiritual realm as well as on earth. Then a thought entered his mind about one of the church members who was in the hospital recovering from surgery. The
pastor began to pray for him as well.
Ramah lay down on the ground and heard the pastor’s prayer ascend to the Almighty. It soothed him and filled him with peace. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the sanctuary wall. The man’s prayers would help him heal quickly.
***
“Before answering your question about Jacob, I must first explain something to you, Mark,” said Sotare. “There is another world, a world about which you are totally unaware. It is the spiritual world and it is full of beings radically different from you.”
“You mean angels like you?”
“Yes, and demons. It is a world where we can see you but you cannot see us. It is a world of sights and sounds of which you have no concept. We can sense evil and good somewhat the way you hear sound, only we can feel it. I tell you this because you will need to see this world in order to understand more completely why things happen the way they do, so that when the answer about Jacob finally comes, you will understand.”
Mark contemplated Sotare’s words carefully, squinting a bit in concentration as he attempted to fully understand their meaning. The angel leaned forward. “The spiritual forces battle over mankind. We fight over all people in an ancient struggle.” Sotare paused to see how the man was receiving his words.
Mark wondered what this had to do with Jacob’s death, but decided to follow Sotare’s lead. “How long has this been going on?”
“For millennia.”
“How old are you?” asked Mark.
“You could not comprehend it. But, I am older than the earth. I was created before your world existed, as were all angels and demons.”
“You mean God created demons?”
“No, he created only good beings. At first none was evil. But after a while many became prideful and rebelled. They sought their own glory instead of God’s. Therefore, God gave them over to the lusts of their hearts and their minds became darkened and as a result, they became—disfigured.”
“Disfigured?”
“They are corrupted not only in mind but also in form. They are hideous, evil creatures with varying degrees of strength, weakness, and abilities.”
The Influence (Supernatural Thriller) Page 6