A Abba's Apocalypse

by Charles E. Butler

  A fog begins forming from the field and fizzles up

  under the pressure of our holy feet. We feel the innocent blood boiling up from the sand that it was forced to swallow. It releases an eerie steam of screams. It floats mysteriously upward concealing our presence, while leaving only a faint impression of where the department store once stood. The building top reveals a rampart of red floating eyes. They know we’re here. The fog fears not as it slaps and flogs these foes with the haunting words, “Justice.” Their evil red eyes stand firm, but I know they tremble. I see red streaks vibrating in the dark just beyond the mist.

  We stop and huddle, as I reach in my sack and remove the torches we’ll use in battle. I hand two sticks to each of my fellow comrades. We return to our file and stretch-out our ranks to the prescribed extended arm distance. Repeating snaps of the sticks give life to the night. Each soldier holds their green torches in each of their hands as we lift our arms and prayers. Amidst this glorious green glow we are assaulted by ridicule and evil laughter. Vulgar gestures are shot at us. But, this evil cannot penetrate the protection of this halo of jade. The majestic mist eats their malign assault while we stand fast in our praying. The fiends continue to fight the fog, but our friend just digests their toxic mess. It chews and swirls their vile swearing; then vomits and hurls it back at them. We slowly march into battle as the fog opens and frees a path before us.

  The menace is confined to its fortress. We sense the demonic apprehension as the fog surrounds them. We extend our line further as we proceed closer. The enemy tries out maneuvering the fog by hurling doubt and catapulting fear

  over top it. “We’ll rip the flesh right off you pitiful puny people, and tear apart our prisoners.” We defend ourselves with the shield of faith, and deflect these mortal blows. We firmly and steadily advance towards our objective, slashing with our swords of truth. “We will fear-no evil, for you are with us,” we loudly proclaim! The cumulative reverberations of our prayers intensify, as they penetrate and stir the fog.

  The steam of the innocent slain savors this sweet serenade. It swallows our slashing words and amplifies them. The fog blasts the building with our bombs of praise over and over. Each prayer of faith is a direct hit on each damned soul. Each of our prayer’s strikes a Demon with the words of truth; ripping it apart. The red eyes of the night bleed down the rampart, as horrid and ghastly screams beg mercy and relief from their tormentor. My heart says to me, “Never give mercy to evil, and none shall be given on this night.”

  Each step I take closer to the building, builds one more block in our fortress of faith. I thrust my arms forward again, and again, as I rebuke this enemy. Each word I say, and each jab of my arms, stabs these foes through. The green lights I hold burn my words into their dark souls. I watch as they fall from the wall into the murdering hands of the mist. I stare as my army destroys the Demons and vanquishes the LD. The evidence is their trails of screams retreating away. A remnant of the demonic enemy remains determine. But, it realizes its previous weapons are useless against our attack. We hold fast to our faith as we near the base of the building. This thickening holy fog climbs the stone, reaching up and choking the remaining foul cursing foe.

  The desperate evil forces try a last ditch effort. We continue the war while we walk in our worship. Children appear through the mist on top of the building. Each one of them cries out for their momma to come help. Evil embraces these innocent, instead. Dozens of Demons lift high dozens of tiny bodies-like offerings to the dark night sky. They threaten

  certain death to these youngsters as they dangle them from

  the store’s roof. These possessed LD dare us to come closer, while they persecute the children with their evil snickering. We look to each other’s face questioning what the right thing to do is. But, we know in our spirit what we have to do. Our army of faith halts.

  We stand firm in righteousness and shout as loud as we can. Each member repeats “Psalms” 23 over and over. This

  pains these devils as they juggle to restrain their captives. They buckle over in agony as we stick them with our daggers of words again, and again. The pain proves to be too much for them. Terrifyingly, they toss all the tots over the side as we watch in horror. Each precious body hurls to the ground as we stare hopelessly on. This action stops our prayers long enough to afford the Demons a last lingering laugh. Our hearts just melt in despair.

  A voice suddenly proclaims “Time, stand still!” Instantly, everything freezes in this moment. There is no doubt to whom has given this command. There is only one with authority over time. Every creature, holy or not, produces a pose in this present painting. The fog floats away and reveals the invisible hands of God. Time resumes as He cradles and calms each innocent life, resting assure in His giant protecting hands. We marvel as each babe gently floats down to earth. The evil uses this opportunity to flee from the Almighty’s power, and His wrath. We rejoice at His works and feel great relief. “Holy is He who delivers us,” we shout!. “Victory is ours” we weep.

  The stillness of the night returns as His holy presence departs. We see all the children nestled side by side in a somber sleep. Each of these little faces glows with a halo of glory from God’s given kiss. The mothers and fathers evacuate from inside the building. Each looks for their dear darling that their arms long to hold. Pastor Paul looks on in amazement while just shaking his head in awe. The rest of us huddle and hug for the victorious faith we displayed. A combination of joy and emotional exhaustion has weakened

  us to the point of collapsing. Yet, we apprehend the thought of what we still need to do. We have no place for all these bodies, but we have to do something soon. We realize it’s only a matter of time between our victory and the return of the Demons, and LD. We brothers’ and sister unite once again as prayer warriors, and ask for a sign from Heaven.

  No sooner than the last “Amen,” then a beam of light

  shines down. In this light descends a pure white giant. Every one of us bows in reverence to this winged warrior. His wonderful warm spirit draws us, but his awesome destructive power overwhelms us. The sheathed sword he carries is twice my height. He lands but still soars at least twenty feet above me from head to feet. Cool clouds flow out his large mouth as he speaks his deep words: “I am a messenger of God. I’ve come to seal these elect until His kingdom returns. This place is now under the protection of the Most High. The greatest heroes of Heaven now circle and defend this holy ground. No evil will dare near it.” This magnificent being finishes his bequeath and ascends in the light it comes from. We all bow again in respect to his parting, and give glorious thanks to the maker of miracles.

  Amanda asks, “Where are they? I don’t see them.” Pastor Paul tells her that Angel’s live in the invisible realm just beyond our ability to see them. He assures us they are here among us, and around us. I tell Amanda that I know this first hand from my recent encounter while rescuing her. I comfort her with my words, “Trust God.” Her face grows a smile, and her head gently shakes, “Yes,” and then replies, “Always.” This night made every witness believers in miracles. We assist the parents, children, women, and men back into the building. I tell Paul through all the commotion that I’ll look around inside and see what I can find in the way of bedding, food,

  and supplies. He remarks, “At least we have electricity.” He notices the interior is lighted while he stares at the mess left behind. Randy, Scotty, and Ken try moving piles of debris

  away from the main area in order to make room for the

  approaching multitude. Moses helps a family organize a homely spot to settle in for the rest of the night. I can’t help feeling his concern for his family that’s still out there. I take one more moment to see all the faces of the parents as they smother and suffocate their babies with love. Even those adults without children indulge the stranger’s children with adoring affection. I feel like we’ve immediately become one

  large family. A warm feeling saying somehow everything will be alrig
ht comes over me. I take this feeling with me as I turn and proceed to investigate for the spoils of victory that this building may hold.

  “What an amazing night” I think. I move towards the back of the building trying to find the area where supplies are normally kept. I kick some boxes blocking my path hoping to move them out of my way. My foot just bounces off them. They are filled with something too heavy to be kicked away. I pull my knife out and slice open both boxes. I open the first box and pull back the flaps to find it is filled with survival supplies. I reason the LD most likely confiscated this paraphernalia from the home of some poor Irreverent they captured, or killed. I shuffle through the box making a mental inventory of its relevant contents. I notice part of what looks like a radio at the bottom of the box. I lift out a cellophane wrapped bundle containing individual packs of assorted vegetables seeds. Next, I remove a treasure of knowledge. The titles of these two books suggest they are field manuals. One deal’s with survival and the other is titled “Quick, Simple, & Easy Medical Solution.” I know these will definitely come in handy. The final obstacle in my way is a box marked “Power Supply.” I pull the small box out and see the radio below it is a shortwave emergency band radio. I grab it and turn its

  charging handle knowing the electronic components are fried. But, I see the red power indicator light brighten as I continue to turn the cranking handle. I am amazed it survived in tack after the EMP blast. I flip the emergency band to short wave and tune it in hearing only the crackle of static. It may not be

  picking up outside signals yet, but I know at least it works. I move the radio with cautious hands placing it back in the box. I proceed to open the next box marked “Power Supply.” I think about the person these personal belongs came from. This person had knowledge of what would be important when all hell broke loose. I also realize this person must have been former military, or some sort of survivalist. I run my

  blade along the tape securing this box, and then flip the flaps up. I tell myself “It’s an optional solar and manual crank generator.” I realize it will only produce a small amount of electricity. But, it is handy for small appliances and charging other devices. I think, “If there were only any that worked, this would be handy.” I place it back in the bigger box next to the radio. I try and lift the box, but it weighs a ton. I run my blade over the thick cardboard covering along its side cutting a slice out. I tap it with my blade hearing the tingling sound of metal behind the cardboard. I smile knowing why the radio survived. I see this box has a thick lead lining. “This guy was definitely military” I proclaim! The lead lining proves he prophetically knew something was going to happen.

  I am able to lift the other box with ease, but it’s still heavy. I open it and see canned goods inside. I decide to retrieve this box later. I continue looking for things we need immediately (e.g., blankets, sleeping material, food, and water). I move towards the back area of the building, which is sectioned off. I see six rooms. The first two are small offices, These are followed by a “Men’s” and “Lady’s” bathroom, and two doors marked with “Supplies,” and “Storage.” I mumble, “Jack pot!” This is my best bet of finding what we need. I see both doors have been kicked in. It looks like they’ve probably been looted already. I say a silent prayer some supplies may have been overlooked as I venture into the “Supplies” room first. This seems to be the most logical choice.

  Out of curiosity I flip the light switch on. I am surprised as I exclaim, “’Son of a gun’, all the electricity in the entire building seems to work!” Technically, I know the

  electrical wiring should be ruined by the EMP blast, and I have no idea where the electricity might be coming from. I wonder if holy protection has anything to do with this. This is surely a night of miracles. One other thing I notice: there is no evil stench lingering, but rather a sweet smell. This fact comforts me.

  All the shelves are empty in this room and their stands

  are tilted over, or lying on the floor. Several open boxes sit in the rear part of the room. Carefully, I hurdle the metal mess to explore the boxes. Dust clouds rise before my eyes as my feet stir-up the dirt. I see every box is empty, which is exactly what I expect. I turn around looking from a new perspective for anything I may have overlooked. “That’s weird,” I think. It’s not what I see that strikes me with suspicion, but what I don’t see. There are clean square areas on several of shelves noticeable only from this side of the stands lying over. I conclude there was something recently on these shelves before the stands were tipped over. I do not see any slide marks wiping the dust away. This suggests the boxes were removed from their stands before they were tipped. I figure the lack of dust where the square cleaner areas are means it happened recently. Next, I notice slightly dust covered footprints leading to the wall on my right. “That’s strange,” I think. “Why do they come and go towards that particular door less wall?” I follow the trail to the wall and tap it with my knuckles. It sounds like solid wood. I lean on the wall and push it. Nothing happens. I move to my left and repeat the process. The wall makes a clicking noise then pops out about two inches. I become excited, but scared at the same time. Maybe there are some supplies behind this hidden doorway, or maybe it’s a “booby trap” left by the LD. I see a hand hold exposed in the side of door. My senses tingle a warning to proceed with the utmost caution. There is also a blast of cold air seeping from around the crack in the opening. I stand to the side of the door and lean my back against the adjacent wall just to the side of this opening. Now out of the way of the

  door, I pry it open with my right arm. A freezing fog floats in the middle of this compartment. It quickly moves out of this hidden room directly towards me.

  I shiver in the chill attacking me as the foggy crisp air clears from inside this room. I realize that this room is really a super large freezer. My eyes pop in astonishment to see pallets

  and pallets marked with “New CA Guard.” I figure this must

  be the LD supply depot. The plastic wrap around each sealed pallet suggests whatever is on them is still intact. I count seven visible pallets stacked on seven more, reaching up to the ceiling. It makes sense there is probably another row of pallets behind these ones. I determine this by the sheer size of the room and where these pallets sit. I pull my knife and slice a piece of frosted plastic wrap from the first pallet. I discover this pallet is loaded with boxes and boxes of MRE (Meals Ready to Eat). This evidence supports the idea this is LD supply headquarter. They only distribute these supplies to those wearing the brand and leave the rest of us to starve. I deduct they store the MRE in this freezer to protect and regulate it. After all, MRE don’t need refrigeration. I check the next pallet and find it is the same type of supply. I thank God for this abundant blessing.

  I quickly inspect a couple more pallets and find even more goodies. One pallet is filled with can goods, and a several field stoves. I can’t believe my serendipity of finding the contents lying on this next pallet. It is filled with sleeping bags, cots, blankets, towels, toiletries, and even military clothing. This is beyond just good luck. I hear that little voice again in my heart. This time it answers, “This is how God abundantly provides for the faithful.” I nod my head affirming the small voice.

  I venture beyond the corridor of pallets to what maybe behind them. I find there is another row stacked to the ceiling. I sum we have at least twenty eight pallets filled with blessings. Again, I thank God for all His love. I turn to leave and go get help with the supplies, but I notice something

  strange. There are a dozen stain spots just below a dozen hooks embedded near the ceiling on the far wall. I know in a second this was more than just a supply chamber. The brown bloody silhouettes scream this was also a torture chamber. I grab a towel from one pallet and try wiping their memory away. I pray heartfelt “last rites,” as I end-up just smearing these poor shadows past existence. I promise myself to keep

  this a secret-for now.

  I return to the main hub of the building and s
ee clumps of children nestled on the floor. Pastor Paul is quietly directing the men towards the needs of the masses, while Amanda attempts to “goodnight kiss” every sleeping child. I wave to the pastor and some of the brothers to come here. Paul’s gaze doesn’t seem to suggest he expects much from my excursion. I stand with my arms crossed smiling at him as he approaches my position. He confirms my smile with his own. He can tell my continuous smiling and steadfast position is saying more than I just found something interesting. He knows I’m not usually this emotional. His face fills with his growing smile of expectation. The other brothers arrive at the same time as Pastor Paul. Paul tilts his head and asks, “What?” I stare at him as I tell them all, “The Lord surely is good!” I see all the confused faces wonder what I am talking about. I place my hand with all my fingers pointing up, suggesting to them to “stop” their advancement. I proceed to twist my hand and bend my fingers over slowly, giving them the “follow me” sign. I see them glance at each other wondering just how big I scored.

  We move orderly at a “quick time” to the “Supplies” room. I see their smiles turn to frowns as they enter the emptied supply room. I continue to motion to them to follow me as I venture into the hidden freezer compartment; which they failed to notice upon initial entry. Smiles return along with bulging eyes as they peer in. “Wow,” is the best I can do to explain their surprise. I give everyone the abridged tour along the way to the pallet containing the bedding. I hear Paul

  call out loudly and repeatedly, “Amen!” The brothers reply with a more solemn and astonished, “Amen,” as they slowly savor this most abundant blessing. We immediately form a “fire detail” and quickly begin passing cots, blankets, and sleeping bags down off this mountain of supplies into a stack on the floor. The rising pile on the floor becomes almost unmanageable. We stop and grab as much as each man can