Piercing the Darkness

by Frank Peretti

  “So you’ve seen everything, have you?” asked Mr. Steele.

  “Well, not everything . . .” He was hurting her hand.

  He was the same way when he taught the summer classes here at the Center years ago. Sally was afraid of him then. She was afraid of him now. There was a sinister power, a presence, about him. He could hypnotize with those eyes of his.

  SI SHOT OUT of the trees along with about fifty warriors at that end of the campus, taking the demons by surprise. One cluster of them was just coming onto the grounds with another automobile full of weekenders. The heavenly warriors flooded over them before they knew what was happening and removed that complication immediately.

  In answer to Cree’s shout, the remaining hundred warriors swept in a fiery sheet across the lake, divided into many streams, and rushed through the campus like a flood. Demons spun about, then shot forward from the trees, buildings, and vehicles with piercing cries and vicious wails. Swords clashed, wings roared, sparks flew. The angels were engaging the demons’ full attention, fiercely battling two, three, six demons at once, but they were not prevailing. The evil spirits were standing their ground.

  Cree shot and zigzagged through the trees, this way, that way, in, out, up, down, feinting, darting.

  CRUNCH! The guard came at him, and their swords met again. This demon couldn’t be shaken!

  The expansive cloud of spirits beyond the lake heard the cries and saw the battle. Out front, his fangs protruding past his chin and his head bristling with spikes, Barquit, the Prince of Omega, roared a command and drew his sword. With an echoing, ringing, flourishing of red, glowing blades, the returning warriors dove for the campus.

  MRS. DENNING WASN’T about to stop until she had told Mr. Steele everything. “Oh, you know what? She has a strange ring she ought to show you.”

  Mr. Steele let go of Sally’s hand. He leaned closer. She thought she felt heat from his face. “A ring?”

  Sally shook her head and tried to smile, to chuckle the whole thing aside. “Oh no, it’s nothing.”

  He was still leaning so very close. “Oh, yes. I’d like very much to see it.”

  THE GUARD CAME down from high in the trees like a meteor. Cree shot sideways and just barely avoided being cut in half. He gave another mighty burst of his wings and headed for the sky.

  The guard had his heel! Cree pulled with his wings, but the beast jerked him down!

  ZZOOOSH! Si! God bless him!

  OOF! Cree’s heel was free.

  In a long streak of light, Si dropped out of the sky and rammed the guard full-force. Both went tumbling in a grappling, snarling ball of fire. Cree flipped over and dropped earthward again, sword ready.

  The guard had Si by the throat, his big sword raised.

  Cree hurled his sword, and it went through the guard’s torso like a missile. Si wriggled free and cut the thing in half. It dissolved in a choking cloud of red smoke.

  Cree regained his sword. He could see the Prince of Omega descending like a storm. “Let’s get her out of here!”

  SALLY DROOPED HER head.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Mrs. Denning.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” She wasn’t lying.

  Mr. Steele grabbed her wrist. “Let me help you to the restroom.”

  He lifted her from her seat.

  “No, let me go alone . . .”

  Mrs. Denning was a little startled by Mr. Steele’s forward behavior. “Mr. Steele, maybe she can go alone . . .”

  He didn’t seem to hear her. He was signaling through the window to the four men who had come with him in the van. They were watching. They saw the wave of his hand and started toward the cafe.

  Cree and Si had made their chance.

  “No guards,” shouted Cree. “He’s open!”

  Barquit and his demons were diving across the lake, heading for the campus, swords ready.

  Sally could see four men hurrying to the cafe. They could see her through the window, and the sight quickened their step. Mr. Steele was making no effort to get to the restroom. He wouldn’t let go of her.

  This wasn’t a man. This was . . . something else.

  “I’m going to throw up!” Sally threatened.

  Cree banked sharply, made a tight turn, and dropped like a missile toward the end of the cafe, his wings roaring. The wall of the cafe filled his vision, slapped past him. He was inside, careening over the tables, along the counter, sword extended.

  Joel Galvin ducked, his arms over his head, and Mrs. Denning shrieked as the entire row of drinking glasses shattered from one end to the other.

  Mr. Steele ducked too, pulling Sally down with him.

  Cree was out the other end of the cafe, pulling up into the sky just as Si shot like a bullet through the front of the cafe and right through Steele.

  “Ahhh!!” Mr. Steele’s hand went to his eyes.

  “Mr. Steele!” shouted Galvin.

  Sally was free. She ran for the door.

  Si’s sword had been there. The four men didn’t see her, and neither did the spirits attached to them. The spirits were fluttering about, looking for their attacker; the four men stood there squinting, shading their eyes, trying to figure out which direction the sun was coming from.

  The Prince of Omega and his hordes descended on the campus, flushing out a blizzard of brilliant warriors who scattered in all directions, fleeing like frightened birds. The demons shrieked and gave chase. This was the kind of sport they were hoping for. Barquit kept looking for the leader of this marauding host, but did not see him.

  Retreat! Retreat! The angels fled, leading the demonic hordes further into the sky, further from the campus, further from the trouble below.

  “Good!” said Cree, following Sally.

  Sally ran down the gravel road, passing more cars arriving with more people.

  “Hey,” somebody called, “which way to registration?”

  “Just keep going,” she replied. “You’ll find it.”

  They kept going. So did she.

  The Prince of Omega and his demons cheered and wailed as they chased countless angelic warriors across the sky. They had the power and they had the numbers. They would purge their territory of these brilliant troublemakers, and that would be that.

  Cree and Si just kept close to Sally, trying to force her under trees and out of sight. She seemed to know what to do, where to run, how to hide. They flew headlong just above her, swords drawn, rolling steadily to look skyward, earthward, skyward . . .

  They didn’t know how many they’d lost in this battle. But they still had Sally Roe . . . for now.

  Good. Run, girl, just run.

  CHAPTER 19

  MR. STEELE STOOD, but his hands were still covering his eyes. Mr. Galvin and Mrs. Denning hurried to his aid.

  “Hey, easy now! Get glass in your eye?” Galvin asked.

  “Must be, must be.”

  The four men hurried inside, still seeing spots in front of their eyes. One stayed by the door. Another checked the back door.

  The third took hold of Mrs. Denning’s arm. She protested, “Ouch! I beg your pardon!”

  “That’s Mrs. Denning!” Mr. Steele snapped.

  The man let go of her. “What happened?”

  The fourth man helped Mr. Steele to his feet. “Man, look at the mess!”

  “Mr. Steele, you all right?” Galvin asked.

  His eyes cleared. Galvin looked at them closely.

  “I don’t see anything, Mr. Steele. You feel anything?”

  Mr. Steele was concerned about something else. “Did you see her?”

  The fourth man answered, “Not clearly, just through the window.”

  “Did you see her leave?” he demanded.

  “No.”

  “We didn’t see a thing,” said the third man. “The sun was right in our eyes.”

  Mr. Steele sat in anger and disgust. “The sun . . . !”

  Galvin was curious. “Who was that woman, Mr. Steele?”

/>   Mr. Steele suddenly smiled as if she were a pleasant subject. “An old friend, Joel. I hadn’t seen her in years.”

  Mrs. Denning’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You know Bethany Farrell?”

  He looked at Mrs. Denning quite flustered and didn’t answer.

  “How are your eyes?” she asked.

  “They’re fine, thank you.”

  Mr. Galvin got a broom to sweep up the broken glass. Steele got up and motioned his four men outside.

  As soon as they stepped onto the porch, Steele cautioned his men, “Nobody hears about this.”

  “Right,” they answered, “you got it.”

  He spoke rapidly and quietly. “She’s got a dye job now, her hair’s black, and she’s wearing tinted glasses. She has the ring, all right.”

  “She can’t get very far,” said the first man.

  Steele whispered to the fourth man, “I’ll give you some work right away if you wish.”

  The fourth man understood. He whispered some quick orders to the other three. “Check up and down the road right away, and then check around Fairwood.”

  Mr. Steele suggested, “They might check at the Schrader Motor Inn in Fairwood. She used to stay there.”

  The fourth man nodded and gave one final order. “If you find her, take care of her cleanly and quietly.”

  The three other men snapped into action.

  Mr. Steele looked back toward the cafe. “Mrs. Denning will have to be interviewed. Goring will be coming from Summit on Monday, and Santinelli said he’d be here by Monday evening. We’ll talk to Mrs. Denning as soon as Goring gets here. I think you should be at the interview as well.”

  The fourth man nodded. He was dark and lean, dressed all in black, with a sharp nose, deep brown eyes, and strange, pointy eyebrows.

  “Looks like your energies hit a critical mass in there,” he said. “That was quite a disturbance.”

  “Maybe.” Mr. Steele was unwilling to admit it. “Roe might be into some new kind of power . . . She might be.” Then his voice took on a strange, sinister tone. “But she’s dealing with us now, so she won’t last forever. The real power is ours, and it’s going to stay that way!”

  “NO,” SAID TED Walroth, starting to raise his voice. “June and I have talked about it, we’ve prayed about it, and we just can’t go on with this. Listen, Mark, we’ve gone astray from the will of the Lord having this school. I’ve always thought that, and now we’re just finding it out the hard way. The Lord just isn’t blessing this thing!”

  Mark and Ted were in the little school office; Mark had gathered all the records for the two Walroth children, Mary and Jonathan, and had them ready to hand over to Ted, but he was still hoping against hope that he could talk Ted into keeping his children in the school.

  “But, Ted . . . if you’ll be honest with yourself, with June, with Mary and Jonathan, you’ll have to admit that the school’s done them a world of good. Their scores are up, they’re close to the Lord, their self-esteem is great, they’re happy . . .”

  “Oh, are they?” Ted challenged. “For how long? How long is it going to be, Mark, before something happens to them too?”

  Mark had heard that kind of talk too many times before, and he was getting tired of it. “Ted, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but there are a lot of outright lies going around, and I hope—”

  “I don’t care about the lies or the gossip, I know about all that nonsense. But I believe that behind all the talk and the fear there is a definite element of risk—”

  “There is no element of risk!”

  Now Ted was openly angry. He pointed his finger at Mark and looked down that finger with cold blue eyes. “Now that right there is a problem in itself! You’ve lost your objectivity in this thing, Mark, totally and completely! If there was a problem, even a serious problem, I don’t think you’d admit it! You’ve taken Tom’s side in this thing, and I think that’s unacceptable for the pastor! You don’t know what kind of person Tom is when you’re not around! None of us do! And if you’re going to be his advocate in these matters, then I don’t think we can trust you either, and I don’t think we can remain under your pastorship!”

  Mark took a moment to be quiet and break the momentum of this building confrontation. He spoke softly. “Ted . . . Satan is busily at work among us, trying to split us up, trying to cause division . . .”

  Ted agreed. “I’ll say! You can’t see the Lord’s will anymore, Mark, even when it’s as plain as day, right in front of you! This school is a colossal mistake, a wrong step we never should have taken, and now we’re paying for it, and you’re just refusing to see that.”

  Mark tried to clarify what he meant. “I meant . . .”

  “I know what you meant! And I’m saying you’re wrong, dead wrong. You’ve been stubborn, you’ve been blind, you’ve come to the defense of a man that we simply can’t trust, and now we’re all under a lawsuit and push has come to shove. June and I want no part of it, and we certainly don’t want our kids dragged through it.” He grabbed the knob and opened the door. “I’ve got to go.”

  Mark handed him the records.

  “Thanks.”

  Ted walked hurriedly, angrily, to the main door.

  “See you Sunday?” Mark asked.

  “No,” Ted replied, not turning around. “Don’t expect that. I don’t think the Lord is happy with this church right now.”

  And with that, he was gone.

  TAL, NATHAN, AND Armoth stood just outside, watching him go.

  “It’s spreading,” said Nathan. “First in the school, and now in the church. They’re at each other’s throats.”

  Tal fell back and leaned against the school building. “Destroyer! With no change in direction, the saints here won’t have a school left to defend.”

  “And we won’t have the prayer backup to succeed in . . . in anything!”

  “But what about the spirits responsible?” demanded Armoth. “Surely we can root them out!”

  “No,” said Tal, and he was quite angry and frustrated. “They have a right to be there. They were invited. The saints have given themselves over to this fight, and until their hearts break, until they repent, this cancer will never slow its spread.”

  “So what now?” asked Nathan.

  “Mota and Signa are working to find a breach in the enemy’s ranks, some weak spot in Destroyer’s plan that we can expose for the saints to find. In the meantime, all we can do is keep the core group praying, fighting. The Lord will move according to his purposes. He’ll—”

  They drew their swords.

  No, it was no demonic army, not even a formidable spirit, only a small, ugly messenger, brazen enough to fly right over their heads, waving its empty hands to show it was not an aggressor.

  “Ha haaaa!!!” it called. “Are you Captain Tal?”

  “I am,” said Tal.

  “Destroyer has a message for you!” The little imp hovered high above them, calling out its message with a high, grating voice. “He says, ‘I have cut you down, great captain! Omega is mine, and ever shall be, and your army is routed and scattered! Send some more! My warriors are hungry!’”

  The imp darted away like a little fly.

  Tal did not smile as he said, “Sally Roe is safe. Had they destroyed her, that would have been Destroyer’s message.” He sheathed his sword. “We’ll find Cree and Si, and make sure of their welfare. I’ve sent Guilo ahead to aid Chimon and Scion at Bentmore. We three will take charge of Sally’s next stop. We must keep her alive.”

  “We are weakened, captain,” said Nathan.

  Tal nodded. “Gather all the forces you can spare, Nathan. We’ll do our best.”

  SALLY REMEMBERED a side road when she came to it, but couldn’t remember exactly where it went. She took it anyway, just to get off the main highway. There was a red farmhouse not too far down on the right, with a gully in front and a classic-looking red barn. That registered. She’d seen it before, perhaps while bicycling. This
road should eventually lead her back to Fairwood.

  She heard a vehicle approaching and ducked into the woods. It was just a farmer in his pickup.

  She decided to wait for just a while. She pulled out her spiral notebook and added some quick notes to another letter, first recounting her recent narrow escape, then trying to summarize her troubled, churning memories.

  I’m remembering, Tom, piece by piece. The Omega Center has grown a lot and is double the size it was when I was last there. But the spiritual forces are the same, as are the philosophies and the goals of those people.

  It all seemed so utopian eighteen years ago. I can recall the classes in Eastern philosophy and the long sessions in the meadows, sitting for hours in meditation, feeling such a unity with all life, with all that is. What bliss that was. I can remember the special spirit-guides who came to me during my last summer. They opened my consciousness to realize my own divinity, and revealed worlds of experience and awareness I’d never known before. It was like an endless carnival ride through a world of enticing secrets, and my guides promised to remain with me forever.

  But the joy of those days eventually soured like warm, aging milk. The bliss of meditation became more and more a form of insanity and escape; the spirit-guides did not remain with me as they promised, but decayed into illusions, ghostly images, tormentors. I had gone to Omega to find, as Mrs. Denning put it, “the meaning behind it all,” but found instead a world of mindless credulity and wishful thinking, a floating, aimless quest for experience in place of rationality. Meaning? No, only self-aggrandizement. And whether a person is a small cosmic accident or a god who fills all that is, that person is still alone.

  So it was futile. I can see that now, but of course “now” is too late. I am so much older, and so many fruitless years have passed. Looking back, I find it so very sad to count the years I devoted to that place and what it stands for. I find it even sadder to think that it is still there, still drawing more and more Sally Roes into its nets. I wonder, someday will those bright-eyed and optimistic teens look back across the years and find the futility that I find now? From a better vantage point, will they assess their lives and find as little value?