by Mark Romang
The hailstorm raged on and on for what seemed like minutes, but more than likely lasted only dozens of seconds. Though they fell all around him and caused death and mayhem, not one ice boulder struck Tanner. Frequently the gigantic hailstones would shatter upon hitting the ground and create ice shrapnel, adding even more destruction and chaos.
From his position on the execution rack, Tanner watched the ice shrapnel whirl and ricochet in every direction. Occasionally a piercing scream from a retreating person caught in the open, rose above the hailstones’ roar.
Finally, the last ice boulder fell. A deathly still came over Westlake Park. But the eerie quiet didn’t last long. A low rumble gently shook the ground.
Still frozen in place on the execution rack, Tanner wondered if the strange weather phenomena would continue, and if an earthquake would strike next.
He sensed movement near him. Someone knelt down by him and began unlocking the straps.
“You’re still alive and kicking, Tanner. And so is Brooke,” C.J. said. “It’s like the hailstones avoided us and sought out the unsaved.”
Tanner sat up after C.J. unlocked the waist strap. He saw Brooke and someone that looked like Nathan Banks picking their way through the bodies and hailstones on their way to the stage. “Is that Nathan Banks?”
“Yeah, he pulled a Houdini and escaped prison somehow. He claims an angel helped him. Believe it or not, I’m inclined to believe him.” C.J. undid the final strap. “I guess Banks is okay. I had him pegged wrong all this time. I feel bad about giving him so much grief.”
Tanner stood up. He waved at Brooke and Banks. They waved back and continued their approach. He noticed they held hands.
“I figure Jesus is going to show up at any moment. Those one-hundred pound hailstones are supposed to happen after the seventh bowl is poured out. The seventh bowl is the last judgement,” C.J. said.
Tanner looked at his brother’s clothing. “What is with your UWC officer getup?”
“I was trying to rescue you. No way I was going to let my twin brother lose his head. This uniform was my ace in the hole.”
“Thanks for having my back, Bro.”
Suddenly the rumble intensified. Lightning flashed in a continuous series of blinding flashes. Tanner suddenly dropped to his knees. Once more he couldn’t move. C.J. dropped right next to him. Together they studied the sky, mesmerized at the indescribable sight.
A brilliant white streamer, shimmering and flowing like a heraldic banner lit up the dark sky. And then Tanner felt his eyes all at once sharpen and become more powerful. It was if scales had slid off his eyes, and he could see what truly illuminated the sky.
Jesus! The savior of all those who believe and follow Him, rode a horse in the sky. And millions of saints, also riding white horses followed behind Him. The heavenly army galloped down a suspension road connecting the sky to the ground. Legions upon legions of singing angels escorted Jesus and the saints, adding even more glittering brilliance.
Tanner humbly lifted his hands up in acknowledgement of Christ’s holiness and sovereignty. The Glorious Appearing was even more incredible than he’d imagined. Strength all at once flowed into Tanner’s limbs. He’d never felt more strong, more alive, and more capable. He knew it was a feeling of euphoria that would never wane, a feeling of everlasting victory.
Tanner stood up. C.J. stood up too. Brooke and Nathan ran up to them. Together they all stared at the supernatural event taking place in the sky.
“The whole world is seeing this, not just us,” Brooke said excitedly. “Jesus is traveling over the Middle East, but it’s like He’s right over us somehow.”
C.J. placed an arm around Tanner, and another arm around Brooke. “We made it, guys! We made it all the way to the end.”
Tanner nodded. He couldn’t stop grinning. “We made it to the end and back to the beginning.”
“Huh?” C.J. asked.
“The whole universe has circled back around. And we’ve circled back around too. Because the end really isn’t the end. The end is where we begin.”
“That’s deep, but I see what you’re saying, Tanner. Now we’re going to start living the life God always meant us to live,” Brooke said. “The Lord used to live with Adam and Eve in the Garden before they sinned and ate the forbidden fruit. Now Jesus is going to live with humankind again, in the flesh, and this time it’s forever.”
“Amen to that,” Banks said.
C.J. nodded, seeing the big picture now and understanding the significance. “I like it. The end really isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning. The beginning of eternity.”
Chapter 59
Mount of Olives—that same moment
Andrew Maddix and his family, as well as Coleton Webb, hadn’t reached earth yet. They still galloped down the suspension road in the sky. But they were getting closer, and Maddix could see things happening below in a rapid-fire manner.
Jesus had officially touched down on the Mount of Olives, fulfilling his promise to return to earth. The mountain responded by splitting in half and forming a deep valley that ran east to west, separating the north part of the mountain from the south part.
Jerusalem residents poured into the brand new valley, fleeing the besieged city and Henrik Skymolt’s international army overrunning it. Maddix could only imagine what sort of genocide had already taken place inside Jerusalem. Satan wanted to completely destroy the city and everything living inside it.
It’s almost over, he thought. All wrongs are going to be made right very soon.
“We’re almost there, Andrew,” Sara said.
Maddix looked at Sara. She rode beside him, and looked so natural and at ease on her horse. He’d never seen Sara look so beautiful. Her long hair flowed like a flag, just like the mane of her horse. “We’re going to see some terrible things, Sara. So be prepared.”
She smiled at him. “It’s only for a little bit. I’ll be okay. Jesus has this.”
Maddix knew she was right. Jesus did indeed have everything under control. But the horrors of war were always difficult to process, no matter how mentally strong the person. And the horrors they were about to witness would be ghastly.
“Here we go, Mad Dog. We’re touching down,” Webb called out from behind Maddix.
Maddix’s horse didn’t slow at all as it galloped surefootedly down the slope and onto the valley floor. Maddix didn’t have to do anything but hang on to the reins. His horse seemed to know exactly what to do.
The heavenly army surged through the valley like an unrelenting floodtide. The noise generated by countless hooves striking the earth sounded like a continuous thunderclap and shook the ground.
Maddix looked to his left and saw an Iranian soldier stumbling like he’d been struck blind. The soldier carried an RPG launcher, but dragged it carelessly behind him.
As he approached the enemy soldier, Maddix saw that the soldier was in poor shape and literally rotting on his feet. If ever there were such a thing as a zombie, this Iranian soldier would surely pass as one. Maggot-riddled flesh hung like rancid bacon strips from his arms, legs and ribcage. The soldier’s eyes had shriveled in their sockets, and his black, rotting tongue dangled out over bluish lips. Several ravens flew after soldier and tormented him. Occasionally the birds pecked flesh from his neck and back.
Maddix wasn’t surprised by the repulsive sight. The soldier’s decaying condition wasn’t an anomaly. There were sure to be many more enemy combatants resembling this one. Maddix wondered what the prophet Zechariah thought when he rode past the rotting soldier. The prophet wrote in his Old Testament book that the enemy would suffer from this sort of condition on the day of the Lord.
Maddix didn’t know if the soldier’s condition was the result of a supernatural judgement from God, or if a warhead containing biological or chemical agents took an errant route.
It doesn’t really matter. It’s just another prophecy fulfilled. Maddix had a hunch what the next prophetic event would be, but he didn’t dwell
on it. It would come soon enough. And as fast as his big horse galloped, his long muscular legs covering forty-feet per stride, Maddix would see it in seconds.
More and more Jews fled through the earthquake-hewn valley. The refugees became a blur as Maddix sped past them and neared the Kidron valley. Up ahead he saw birds. Lots of them. Birds of every species swooped and soared, fluttered and dived.
They’re feasting on the flesh of Christ’s enemies, he thought. Maddix also saw the color red, a dark crimson splash that roiled and writhed and foamed just below the horizon. The closer he got to the Kidron Valley and the Old City, the more apparent it became what he was seeing.
A river flowed through the Kidron Valley that didn’t flow there yesterday.
A river of blood.
“Is that what I think it is, Andrew?” Sara asked.
“Yes, it is. Get ready, Sara. We’re going to cross it.” The horses finally slowed to a canter, and then to a walk. They forded the river of blood, and the blood reached the bridle on Maddix’s horse. Maddix looked to his left and to his right. The blood river stretched for as far as he could see. From the passage in Revelation, Maddix knew the blood river stretched for 1600 stadia, or 180 miles.
On the other side, dotting the hillside, Maddix saw thousands of corpses and giant hailstones. The hailstones were melting rapidly, and the runoff from the hailstones mingled with the blood spilled by the dead. A flood resulted.
“Dad, are we going inside the city?” Spencer asked, as he pulled his horse up beside Maddix.
“I’m not sure. But our horses have stopped.” Maddix watched Jesus ride his horse up to the Eastern Gate, a gate in the wall that surrounded the old city. The Eastern Gate had been sealed for a long time. Sultan Suleiman 1 sealed the gate up in the year 1541. Even the leader of the Ottoman Empire knew the Messiah would one day come from the east and enter Jerusalem through the gate, and fearful that the prophecy would come true during his reign, sealed up the gate.
The intense light shining from Jesus’ countenance burned a huge hole in the sealed gate. Jesus rode his white horse through the gate, fulfilling prophecy recorded in the forty-third and forty-fourth chapters of Ezekiel. Maddix watched several legions of angels follow Jesus through the eastern gate as well.
“I think the Lord is going to liberate the city, and then head for the temple and take his place on the throne,” Coleton Webb said, his deep voice filled with awe.
Maddix nodded. “Why shouldn’t he? Jesus is the king. And the throne belongs to him.”
All the saints waited outside the wall. Someone broke into a praise song, and pretty soon the entire army began to sing. Maddix sang out of pure joy, but also thankfulness. He was so grateful to be on the winning side.
As he sang he looked at the melting hailstones. Even though they had shrunk in size, the hailstones were still bigger than many of the tombstones in the Muslim cemetery adjacent to the Eastern Gate.
The hailstorm had pounded the entire earth. It had been the storm of all storms, and he couldn’t imagine what the mindset of the lost had been when the first hailstones struck. Had they experienced terror as they ran for their lives, or stubborn rage just before expiring?
A sudden commotion at the gate drew Maddix’s attention. Someone was coming out.
Chapter 60
Jerusalem
Flanked by hundreds of his fellow angels, Michael dragged Henrik Skymolt and Vito Abbadelli by their scruffs outside the gate. The saints quieted down and watched Michael with rapt attention.
They knew what was about to happen. And he was happy to oblige them. Michael turned to the angels nearest him. They were two of the biggest and strongest angels that followed Jesus through the gate and into Jerusalem. “Take the beast and his false prophet and throw them into the lake of fire,” he commanded.
“It is with pleasure that we carry out your command, Michael,” one of them said before grabbing hold of Vito Abbadelli.
“Wait! Have mercy on me! I used to be a bishop. I wholeheartedly served God with my entire being. I was an advocate for the poor, the orphan, and the unborn. But Henrik tricked me. He deceived me,” Abbadelli cried out in a sputtering voice.
Michael shook his head. “You had plenty of head knowledge of God. But you never shared a relationship with Jehovah. His Spirit never lived inside you. And just as faith without works is a dead faith, works without faith is no faith at all,” he said.
“Don’t forget you took my mark, Vito. That seals your fate forever,” Skymolt smirked.
Abbadelli looked up at Michael. Terror filled his eyes. “Please, Michael, talk to Jesus for me. Tell the Lord how sorry I am and how foolish I feel. Tell Jesus I love him.”
“It is written that you are to be tossed alive into the lake of fire. And so there you will go,” Michael said firmly.
The two angels grabbed the guilty pair and escorted them away. Vito Abbadelli howled and blubbered for mercy, but Henrik Skymolt said nothing and suddenly drooped in the arms of his angel escort and began to decay. Michael wasn’t surprised or alarmed. He expected Satan to withdraw from Skymolt’s body at some point.
Intrigued, Michael allowed his eyes to linger on Henrik Skymolt. Both the beast and the false prophet were to be thrown alive in the lake of fire. That was how John recorded it to happen in the book of Revelation. But Henrik Skymolt looked and acted and smelled like a dead man.
He didn’t stay dead for long.
A wind picked up and formed a dust devil. The dust devil encircled Henrik Skymolt and entered his mouth. The Swede coughed and sputtered, and then jerked to life. Skymolt took one look at his angelic captors and screamed. But his screams fell on deaf ears.
The two angels continued to drag away the condemned, but left behind the deceiver. Satan stood defiantly, his hands on hips and his wings spread gloriously. He glared at Michael. “You will not throw me into the lake of fire, Michael. At least not without a fight.”
“You are right, Satan. The lake of fire comes later for you. But I will throw you into the Abyss, where you will stay imprisoned for one-thousand years.”
The saints suddenly cheered and pointed at the sky. Careful not to allow Satan an opening, Michael glanced up for only a brief moment. An angel as bright as a lightning bolt descended to the earth. And the angel wasn’t empty handed. In one hand he held a key, and in the other he held a long and powerful chain.
The angel alighted onto the scene. His chain coiled onto the ground, its heavy links rattled portentously. Michael strode toward Satan, the destroyer of humans. He’d had enough of Satan. He’d battled him for too long. It was time to end the devil’s reign of destruction right here and right now.
Satan didn’t like to counterpunch. So he attacked. He flew at Michael. There was an intense burst, an explosion of light as powerful as a solar flare when Michael collided with Satan. The devil unleashed a heavy jolt of dark energy, but the sin-fueled wallop barely moved Michael. He absorbed the wicked blow and wrapped a hand around Satan’s throat. Michael lifted his nemesis off the ground and, to the rousing cheers of hundreds of millions of saints, slammed the devil back to earth.
Michael placed a knee onto Satan’s chest, pinning him fast. Yelling obscenities, Satan struggled mightily, but couldn’t extricate himself. “In all our battles you have never defeated me, Michael,” he panted.
“Your great power has diminished on this day, Satan. And the Lord has filled me with a double portion of His strength just for this moment.”
Satan continued to growl and struggle, but to no avail. He couldn’t move underneath Michael’s knee. The angel with the chain began wrapping the devil with it. The angel started the wrapping process with Satan’s feet and moved upward, pinning Satan’s arms to his side and continuing with two or three wraps around Satan’s chest and neck. The angel completed the binding with a knot, cinching it tight.
Satan could hardly be seen under the heavy links. With the devil immobilized, Michael stalked over to an unmarked tombstone. It was the
oldest looking tomb marker in the small, Muslim cemetery, and nothing special. Michael picked up the unadorned tombstone as easily as if it were a feather and tossed it to the side. He then returned to stand guard over Satan.
A thick, heavy door hid in the ground where the tombstone once stood. The angel who had descended from the sky with the chain, inserted his key into a lock in the door. The lock disengaged. The angel pulled open the door to the Abyss.
Dark smoke reeking with sulfur billowed out the door. The angel helped Michael drag the immobilized devil over to the opening.
Michael looked down at Satan “You were defeated by the cross and Christ’s resurrection. But your sentence was deferred until now. Today your punishment begins. You will spend the next thousand years falling through a dark and bottomless void.” Michael looked at the angel and nodded. Together they heaved the prince of darkness into the Abyss.
The devil screamed. His angry shrieks echoed for several extended moments before all became silent. Michael shut the heavy door. It closed with a noisy thud. The angel inserted the key into the lock and engaged the locking mechanism.
The saints cheered and broke into jubilant song, and their united voices sounded like rushing waters.
Michael dropped to his knees. He lifted his head skyward. And then he lifted his powerful arms skyward. The gloomy darkness had lifted. He looked into a bright blue sky. “Mighty Jehovah, I praise your name. You are the source of everything good and wonderful. Your holiness has conquered all your foes. And your strength flowing through me has vanquished the evil one. I have completed everything you have asked of me. May your peace descend upon this planet and unite all the nations and every people group, tribe and family. May your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.”
Michael stood up. For nearly all his existence, at least since Lucifer’s fall, he had been a warrior, tasked with difficult and dangerous missions. He’d always been the fiercest of all the warrior angels, and his sword rarely stayed in its scabbard for long. He was the General, the undisputed leader of the vast angelic army. He answered only to the Lord.