Great White Throne

by J. B. Simmons

  CHRIS, NAOMI, AND I sat alone around the table. Now that the bag was off my head and no one held a gun, I could take in the room. It looked ancient. The walls were pale, dusty stone, probably placed there a thousand years ago. The plain brown rug on the wood floor covered the stairs the Mahdi’s men and Aisha had gone down, the stairs I felt sure led their way to Don.

  “Tell me how you made it here,” Chris said.

  Naomi and I gave him the story. We described Don’s palace, the fight in Tehran, and how the angels had brought us to the order. I told him what Brie had said. I just want to see him one more time before it’s over. Then I gave him the ring.

  “Thank you.” His eyes were moist as he slipped it over his thumb. “I fear Brie and I won’t see each other again. But I feel her close. Our love gives me strength.” He looked from me to Naomi. “As yours does. You’ll need that for what lies ahead.”

  “And what’s that?” Naomi asked, her voice quiet as she nursed her baby.

  “I wish I knew,” Chris said. “Elijah probably knows better than any of us. But here’s what I know. We must have faith, now more than ever, in the darkest hour. We are going to suffer. Evil grows and crowds out the light.”

  “If faith is so important,” I said, “why do you fight when others pray instead?”

  “The body of Christ has many parts. I’m only a finger, pushing forward in his service. Others are the heart.”

  “Maybe I’m the womb,” Naomi mused.

  “You’re more than that,” Chris said. “You helped Elijah see and believe, and he has been the eyes. Elijah, why do you think Don wanted you to fight with him?”

  “He said it was because of my ability, but I know that’s not it. I think he wanted my visions, or maybe he didn’t even know what he wanted.” I paused, thinking of Chris’s words. “I haven’t done anything for these visions. I don’t know why I have them, and I bet Don doesn’t either. It frustrates him. He probably thinks I’m a prophet, a chosen one of God. Remember how the order said the devil wants to twist everything in God’s plan?”

  Chris nodded.

  “Don thinks I’m part of that plan. Naomi, too, of course. He’s been trying to get me on his side.”

  “He has ways to do that against your will,” Chris said.

  “I know.” I shuddered at the memory of Azazel in my thoughts, and of my feelings at the sight of Jezebel. “Don has tried. He has done it, for a time at least. I’m still flawed.”

  “Praise God for the solar flare,” Naomi said. She was patting the baby on the back, burping him. “Don might have seized Elijah’s mind if not for that. His demons can somehow work inside the machines. The lines between spirit and matter are weakening.”

  “Then we must pray for help,” Chris said. “Tell me more about these angels who helped you. How many have you seen?”

  “Hundreds.”

  Naomi nodded. “They’re fighting Don’s demons. Some look human. Some I can’t see at all. But Elijah can.”

  “I see only what God shows me. I’ve seen the spiritual forces collide, and our side is not always winning. Demons overwhelmed the angels who brought us into the city. If not for Aisha shooting Alexi, we’d be in Don’s hands right now.”

  “Some of the Muslim people have proven themselves to be allies,” Chris said. “Akil is a wise man, a good man. Your friend Aisha is sharp. Zafar, hard as he is, saved my life a few days ago. This battle has many layers. Good and evil are sifting, separating. Old lines are fracturing. New ones are forming. We’ll attack, but it won’t go well. Not even the angels can prevail without the Lord’s return.”

  “Then why attack Don?” Naomi asked.

  Chris shook his head, but his mouth was drawn tight, determined. “I’ve said it before. No one knows for sure what to do in these days. Many believers went into hiding. They have been hunted down and killed. Others have fought. They have been killed. What can we do but follow the Spirit’s leading? Prayer is my greatest weapon, but I must do something with my body. I will not sit idly.”

  “But you and Zhang Tao are the last of the leaders who live,” I said. “Don wants to kill you.”

  “Do you suggest I hide?” Chris challenged. “No place is safe. I must do everything I can to fight him.”

  “You cannot charge recklessly into death,” Naomi said.

  “Reckless?” Chris asked, his voice rising. “He destroyed everything I had. He killed my children. Next he will try to kill my wife and me, and both of you. Do not judge me as reckless for fighting evil.” He rose to his feet, and his eyes settled on me. “I soldier on until the Lord returns. What about you Elijah?”

  Stay, Gabriel had said. If Naomi was going to be on a rooftop with her child, that’s where I was going to be. “Naomi and I will stay together.” I rose beside her.

  “I understand.” Chris motioned for us to draw closer. “You must follow His lead. Let’s pray together before I go.”

  Naomi and I went to him, and he put his arms around us. I put my arm over Naomi. Then Chris prayed. The words were a blessing, a plea for protection, but they felt like a goodbye.

  AN HOUR LATER Aisha, Naomi, the baby, and I sat together on the roof of the old city building. The sound of war surrounded us—gunshots, shouts, and the metallic rumbling of machines. Most of the conflict came from the hill above us, the heart of Jerusalem. I had a clear view of the dragon on the Dome. The creature’s body was motionless, while its head swiveled and surveyed the city around it. Several times the dragon’s red eyes passed over us, but it did not stir.

  “Why doesn’t he cry more?” Aisha asked, eyeing the baby skeptically. “Through all these things, I’ve heard him cry only a few times. It’s weird.”

  “He’s special.” Naomi rocked the child slowly in her arms. “Sometimes I think he senses more than we can. It could be—”

  “Look.” I pointed to the dragon. It had unfurled its wings. Bigger than I remembered. The whole city seemed to fall under their shadow.

  “The dragon?” Naomi asked.

  I nodded. They still couldn’t see. “It’s been still, but the wings are moving, like it’s ready to fly.”

  Aisha’s eyes locked on the Dome. “What else is happening?”

  “You see the robots repairing the towers?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what’s around them?”

  Aisha studied the sky. “There’s smoke everywhere. It makes the sky dark and gray.”

  “Do you see the smoke swirling?”

  Aisha shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Within the smoke and clouds there are thousands of threads of black swirling around.”

  “I don’t see that.”

  “Some of it’s in shapes, like shadows of winged creatures … like ravens. And woven through it all is the dragon’s spirit, black threads extending and crossing in every direction.”

  Aisha was staring at me. “How do you sleep?”

  “It depends on the dream,” I said. “All that darkness and black and evil can’t compare to the light I’ve seen.”

  “You mean the angels?”

  “No, they’re as bright as all this is dark.” I motioned to the sky and over the city. “They’re in balance, but the man I saw, Jesus, is different. When I remember him, I forget the darkness. It’s as if none of the darkness, none of the evil, even exists compared to him.”

  “But what you see now sounds horrible.”

  “It is, but it will pass. The light won’t. It—”

  Gunshots fired out rapidly, close to the dragon. Thin trails of soaring missiles zipped past overhead, straight at the Dome. The dragon draped its wings around it, forming a black wall.

  BOOM!

  Missiles exploded against the wall. The force of it rippled through the sky, shaking the rooftop where we sat. Smoke billowed out, obscuring the dragon, covering us in a pale mist.

  We pressed closer together. We didn’t speak. Aisha was trembling. Naomi’s hand found mine, held it tight. For a mome
nt, everything fell silent.

  The smoke made it harder to breathe. I coughed. The baby did, too. It whimpered lightly.

  Aisha held her sleeve over her mouth. “Did the attack work?”

  I shook my head uncertainly, but as the smoke began to dissipate, I knew the answer was no. I knew it because a pair of giant red eyes appeared through the smoke, right beside us.

  I started to shout, but before a sound left my mouth, something slammed into my body, knocking me back hard. An instant later Aisha crashed down beside me. I sprang to my feet, wincing and holding my chest. I rushed to where Naomi and Adam were.

  But the dragon had them in its onyx claws.

  “Elijah!” Naomi shouted, her face frantically searching for the creature that held her. Her arms wrapped tight around the baby at her chest, protecting him.

  I started to charge for her, but the dragon’s face emerged again through the smoke. It froze me where I stood. Petrified. With a victorious snarl, the creature leapt off the building and flew away. It disappeared into the smoke. And just like that, Naomi was gone.

  I fell to my knees in desperation. Smoke stung my eyes. Tears streamed down my face. I was supposed to protect her, to be with her through the end. Losing Naomi wasn’t in my dreams. This wasn’t what the angel showed me.

  I cried out to God. I raised my arms, pleading.

  I began to hear words in the wind, in my mind. You are a failure. Elijah, the prophet, the seer, the failure.

  I shook my head, trying to make the words stop. They didn’t.

  God is not coming. He is not coming. You are a failure.

  The dark and powerful words wrapped around me and became true. I could not deny them. It was my fault. I was the one who could see the dragon, and I didn’t even mutter a warning. I’d set this up and watched it happen.

  Well done, prophet. Well done, seer. You have always served me.

  I felt a hand on my back. I turned and saw Aisha’s face through the blur of tears.

  “Was that … the dragon?” she asked.

  I nodded and pointed to the Dome. “The devil has them now.”

  She propped up on her elbows and gazed at the Dome. She turned back at me with hard eyes. “What are we waiting for? We have to go there.”

  Her words were like a slap across my face—in a good way. No use staying here, no use mourning. Despair and failure were the devil’s weapons. God was still with me. So was my friend, Aisha. I took a deep breath, steadied myself. I wiped away tears. “Let’s do it.”

  “I know which path Zafar and the others took. It’s a tunnel. I can show you the way.” She glanced down at her paralyzed legs. “Can you carry me?”

  I knelt down and pulled her body into my arms. I rose slowly, steadying myself to balance her weight. Her slender frame was not heavy, but my legs were still unsteady after the dragon’s attack. My chest still burned with pain. Bruised ribs, I guessed.

  She smiled up at me. “I’m glad we still have each other. I always knew you were something special. I think part of me always hoped …”

  The look in her almond eyes caught me off guard. “Aisha, I—”

  She put a finger over my lips, then moved her hand to my cheek. “I know, Elijah. I know. You don’t have to say anything.” She broke our stare and looked to the side. “It’s that way. Down the stairs.”

  I moved toward the stairs. “You’re right. I’m glad we still have each other.”

  She nodded. “Now let’s go get Naomi.”

  I CARRIED AISHA off the roof, down the stairs, through the abandoned building, and into the room with the hidden hatch. We descended more stairs and reached a dark, stone-walled tunnel.

  I scanned both directions. “Which way?”

  “Right.” Aisha pointed. “It’ll be hard to see, but the floor is smooth. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

  I began the way she’d pointed. In a dozen steps the pale light of the stairwell behind us was gone. My steps blurred into a rhythm of dull thuds. We seemed to be heading uphill. The darkness invited a flood of feelings about what had happened: terror about the dragon and Naomi; doubt about whether we could do anything now; awkwardness about what Aisha had said; weariness from the weight of her body; warmth from the closeness of her; coldness from the empty tunnel; and, glowing underneath all that, a smoldering ember of faith and hope. I believed Jesus was who he said he was, and that kept the ember burning, my feet marching.

  “That way,” Aisha said. An open doorway lay ahead of us, on the left. “We’re almost under the Dome now.”

  My arms and legs were aching as I turned to the left, down another dark tunnel. But light was ahead. “And take this right,” Aisha directed.

  After a few more steps I rounded the corner. We entered a larger room, a cavern. I’d hardly taken in the surroundings when a beam of light flashed over my face, leaving my eyes no time to adjust. I staggered back.

  “Eli,” whispered a man. “Thought I’d never see you again.”

  “Jacob?” My uncle. Maybe the last of my family alive.

  “It’s me,” he said, lowering the flashlight. He wore military fatigues and a helmet. Dark hollows sank beneath his eyes as he glanced down at Aisha. “Zafar said you’d stayed back with the other girl and the baby. You were supposed to be our cover.”

  “The dragon came. It took them. Don must have them now.”

  “Cristo has everyone.” Jacob pointed up to the ceiling. I could see better now—a ladder led up through a shaft in the carved-out stone. “We’re staging our final assault,” he continued. “We’d be a lot stronger if you’d sent some funds, like I asked.”

  “What do you mean?” But the memory came to me—what he’d said the week of my Dad’s funeral. Our city is Jerusalem, and it could use your help. “I’ve had my own troubles getting here. I don’t think I could’ve been much help.”

  “Your troubles are our troubles.” Jacob was shaking his head. “Now you’ve given Cristo everything. You’ve done nothing for us.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “I gave him nothing. I’ve fought him in every way I can.”

  “Oh? How’s that?”

  “I—” I’d stayed in his palace. I’d fought inside his drone. Against my will, but still. “I’ve prayed for God’s help.”

  “Some help.” Jacob raised a rifle. “This is how you fight against a tyrant. I’ve signaled to the others that you’re here, that our cover’s blown. They’ll be here any second. You keep praying.” He cocked the gun with a snap. “I’ll lead the true fighters out of here. I’ll scrape and claw my way to range, and I’ll put a bullet in Cristo’s head.”

  Good luck. I held my tongue, kept my face blank. Then I did what he said: I prayed. God, give me wisdom. This wasn’t in my dream’s script. I had no idea what to do, but the last thing I wanted was to forget my hope. Please, give me peace.

  A group entered the room from behind Jacob. Chris pressed through to the front of the mismatched troop. Zafar was at his side.

  “Glad you made it,” Jacob welcomed.

  Chris ignored him and looked to me, then behind me. “What happened? Where’s Naomi?”

  “The dragon has her.”

  Chris closed his eyes and breathed out heavily. A moment passed in silence, then Chris turned to Jacob. “We have no choice left. We’ll attack as you and Zafar wanted, but my men aren’t facing Don without Elijah.”

  “He’s no soldier. He’d rather pray than fight.”

  “Elijah sees what we cannot,” Chris replied. “We are not all meant to fight the same way. He’ll help us now.”

  “So says the Christian,” Jacob mocked. “So say the people who have never had their land—their heritage—face centuries of assault after assault. We’ve had to fight with our backs to the wall since before your religion was born. You can never understand what it means to fight.”

  “You are a soft people,” Zafar agreed. “This is why only our lands have stood against Dajjal.”

  “But our lands
are lost!” Aisha shouted. The men gaped at her in my arms, as if surprised the paralyzed girl would command their attention. “Tehran is destroyed,” she continued. “The Mahdi is dead. Cristo is here, reigning over the city we all call holy. We can’t fight him as we’ve fought before. We must fight him as Elijah does, with faith, with—”

  “Silence!” Zafar shouted. “Your words are nothing, girl. Soft lands, soft people have corrupted you.” He spat on the ground and turned to the other men. “The Mahdi disappeared and reappeared once. He will again. He and Isa will defeat Dajjal. We fight until that day. We fight until victory!”

  “My people share this duty,” Jacob said, facing the men with him. “We fight for Israel until the Messiah comes.”

  “The Messiah has come,” I said. “I have seen Him. He has spoken to me.”

  Jacob jerked toward me and grabbed my arm. Our eyes locked. “You help Cristo, and now you abandon your heritage?”

  “You don’t understand,” I said, my voice calm, my soul calm. Words flooded out of my lips, as if born outside my mind: “My faith has been completed. It was empty before, now it’s full. I will speak God’s truth to the world. I will seal Abaddon’s fate. The Lord has spoken, and I am the messenger.”

  Jacob released his grip and gaped at me. “What’s wrong with you?” He sounded exhausted and confused. “What would Arella think of you now, Eli?”

  Arella. Mom. “I know what she thinks. I have seen her, and she has spoken to me. She gave me a message for you.”

  Jacob shook his head gravely. “Your mind is lost.”

  “She said it was Jesus who caught the roof above your daughter.”

  Jacob’s mouth fell open. “Wh—who told you this?”

  “My Mom prayed over your daughter. She told me, it was the Messiah who caught the roof above his daughter. He knew you needed her in these last days.”

  “I … there’s no way you could know this.” Jacob was shaking his head. The other men were staring at him with confused looks as my uncle’s eyes grew moist. “What have you become, Elijah?”

  “They say he’s a prophet,” Zafar scoffed.