by Nancy Madore
A sudden, jerky trembling of the ground interrupted Lilith’s thoughts. It took her a moment to realize that it was an earthquake. A strange thrill that was half terror, half curiosity shot through her as she attempted to stand. It was extremely difficult to maintain her balance over the quaking earth, but somehow she managed it. The peculiar, dreamlike curiosity stayed with her, distracting her as she made an effort to run. She fell down repeatedly but always got right back up. She had one thought—to find Asmodeous. It seemed as if the world was slowing down, perhaps even coming to a stop. She heard a deep rumbling sound in the distance.
The earthquake seemed to be waning. Its vibrations were definitely growing weaker. The rumbling sound, however, was getting louder. Lilith stopped to look in the direction of the sound. There was something there—something extreme—but it was much too far away to make out what it was. Lilith could only perceive that it was dark, ominous, and infinitely terrible, like a murky shadow rising over the earth. Lilith stared at the immense thing in awe, struck by a sense of impending doom. Then she turned back toward the ship and began to run.
She approached Kiriath Arba first. Just beyond it, to the south, was the ship. And Asmodeous. Lilith ran so fast that her chest began to ache.
The sky was growing dark and it was starting to rain. At first the rain was sparse—a random smattering of large, pendulous drops—but it quickly became a downpour, turning into a dense sheet of water that was a struggle just to see through. Within seconds Lilith was soaked to the skin. It felt as if the water was coming from all directions.
The city of Kiriath Arba was in pandemonium, but Lilith thought of nothing but the approaching darkness. She couldn’t resist another backward glance. The dark wall was indeed coming closer! But what was it? She ran faster, ruthlessly knocking people out of her way as she went.
The ground, unused to such sudden torrents of rain, was already flooded. Lilith found herself wading in water that was up past her ankles. She’d never felt such fear before. Tears streamed down her cheeks unnoticed. The pain in her chest was growing stronger but she kept going.
She’d been so sure that there would be more time. She was shocked that Anu hadn’t warned her. What did it mean? Was her father already captured in the abyss? Her tears were being instantly washed away by the rain and she let all thoughts of her father go with them. There was no time to mourn. She had to get to the ship.
But in turning to catch yet another glimpse of the dark thing behind her, Lilith knew that she would never make it to the ship before it reached her. It was approaching too quickly. She actually stopped in her tracks at the sight of it. She could see that it was not just a dark presence but something else. Something real and infinitely terrible. The rumbling, which had steadily been growing louder, was actually the sound of its approach. It was so massive it seemed to breach the very heavens. And then it hit Lilith like a slap in the face. The approaching darkness was water. It was a massive, unfathomable wall of water. And it was nearly upon them!
She would never make it to the ship.
Beyond the rumbling din Lilith could hear the voices of the sons of men, crying out to their God in supplication and fear. She could imagine the Nephilim, meanwhile, hurriedly boarding the ship—all except Asmodeous, who she knew would be waiting for her. Would he refuse to enter the ship without her? Lilith suddenly felt the full weight of her actions. If she somehow survived and Asmodeous perished—she couldn’t bear to finish the thought.
The rumbling approach of the water was now more like a thunderous roar. Lilith looked around in desperation, and her frantic gaze found the high walls of the ziggurat temple. It was the strongest structure in the city. Perhaps its angular walls would withstand the blow. It was her only hope.
Thankfully the temple was not a great distance off. But there were so many obstacles in her way! Lilith meandered in and around the narrow streets of Kiriath Arba. There was a time when she found them charming but now they were no more than a dangerous impediment. She was struck, too, by the irony of seeking refuge in a place of worship for the sons of men. But if she survived this first destructive wave, she might be able to swim to the ship. It was her only hope.
The roar of the water was deafening by the time Lilith climbed the steps of the ziggurat, taking them two at a time, oblivious of the pain in her chest and thighs. She rushed toward one of the inner rooms off the entryway, settling in a corner between two walls. She looked up and was surprised to find so many others gathered there. She was the only Nephilim among them.
There was an explosive crash, like a clap thunder, as the wall of water collided with the walls of Kiriath Arba. The earth shook as the walls and everything beyond them gave way. The noise was so great it seemed to vibrate from within rather than from without. Lilith clung to the inner wall.
“Anu,” she prayed. “Please help me!” But the thought of her father and where he might be in that moment only made her feel worse.
Within seconds the water reached the ziggurat, colliding with it violently before rushing around it in all directions. It only took a few seconds more for it to flood every opening, and Lilith had just enough time to fill her lungs with air before the tiny room off the entryway was immersed. Holding her breath, Lilith waited as long as she could for the initial rush of water to subside and its overwhelming pull to let up the smallest bit. She tried to remember what Asmodeous told her to do in this worst case scenario.
Struggling against the rushing water, she somehow managed to maneuver herself through the doorway without being crushed against the wall. When she finally got outside, she forced her limbs to become soft and slack, not fighting the tide but moving with it. She felt her body being lifted upward, even as it was being drawn with the tide, hopefully in the direction of the ship.
In the confusion of those first moments, it was hard to tell which end was up. Lilith couldn’t see light in any direction. Yet she trusted that she was being drawn toward the surface. Was there a surface? The wall of water appeared to reach the very heavens. A new panic rose up but Lilith assured herself that there must be a ceiling to the deluge. She fought against her instinct to struggle, forcing herself to remain still and calm. To give in to the panic would mean certain death.
Meanwhile, as the seconds turned to hours, this new world underwater seemed to come alive. Although darkness surrounded her, some things were more visible than others. Human bodies, for example, had an iridescence about them that made them almost appear to glow in the murky deep. She saw bodies of men, women and children all around her, either struggling violently against the inevitable or simply gazing in open mouthed wonder as their bodies slowly drifted downward. Some ceased their struggles when they caught sight of Lilith, staring dumbfounded at her calm, upward-floating body with a curiosity that momentarily superseded their terror. No doubt she must have appeared every bit the demon they supposed her to be in that astounding moment; her dark hair flowing all around her as she drifted—seemingly blissfully—in the direction of the tide.
The inhabitants of Kiriath Arba spent their last terrifying moments struggling for life in those dark, watery depths along with donkeys, sheep, goats, chickens and every other imaginable thing, both living and otherwise. Pottery, bricks, and other dense items were making their way toward the bottom rather quickly, while the lighter rubble was being drawn with the tide. It was necessary to maneuver around this wreckage in order to avoid being injured.
The water was growing thicker with debris. This encouraged Lilith, as it signified she might be nearing the top of the deluge. Her lungs were starting to ache from holding her breath for so long. More and more of the wreckage surrounded her, and she struggled to follow the joggling tide without being crushed.
Suddenly Lilith felt resistance overhead and she knew at once that she had reached the surface. She clawed at the debris, feeling a creeping sense of being buried alive beneath the heavy layer of flotsam. The tide kept trying to pull her away but she refused to give up, working tirelessl
y to clear away the refuse until she felt the cool, welcome raindrops pelting her finger-tips. Relieved almost to the point of giddiness, she kept pushing away the debris until she’d made a big enough hole to poke her head through. Then she thrust her body up and heartily gasped for air.
The rain was still so thick that Lilith choked on those first, frantic breaths. She coughed uncontrollably, glad for the floating debris around her, which seemed to help buoy her up, even as it jerked her along in the direction of the tide. The world under water had seemed to slow, but Lilith was suddenly aware of how fast everything was actually moving. The water was dragging her along faster than she’d ever traveled in her life, faster, it seemed, than the swiftest horse. The rain was relentless, making it hard to breath and even harder to see. And it was impossible to hear. The rushing water towed her along in a crashing, roaring, roiling rush. Lilith thought she heard screaming and looked around. Others had made it to the surface and they, too, were being carried by the churning sea of debris. A few were being crushed or even impaled by the moving objects.
Water was everywhere. Lilith ignored the dark thoughts pricking at her subconscious, focusing instead on the exhausting, non-stop effort it took just to maneuver around the wreckage. As she was drawn farther and farther from the city the blanket of debris seemed to break, alleviating somewhat the immediate danger of being crushed. There were fewer objects rushing toward her now. She spotted a small tree in the distance and cautiously worked her way to it. She grasped hold of it, maneuvering her body so that she would be carried along at its center. This protected her from approaching objects while clearing a path. Lilith pulled herself up on its trunk and took the opportunity to rest. Then she pulled herself up even higher and looked anxiously around in all directions. It was so dark. She couldn’t see the ship!
Dismay flooded through her. Surely the ship had survived the crash! It had been placed in the very center of the desert city—far enough from the walls to ensure clearance in the event that it was pushed sideways before being lifted—and perched up on staging so that it would readily float when the waters came. Sections of the stone wall had been structurally weakened all around its circumference so that it would give way in the unlikely event that the ship did strike it. Every possibility had been considered.
Although it was midday, there was no trace of the sun. Lilith had no idea where she was. She supposed it didn’t matter. She was forced, for the moment, to follow the tide. Based on the direction from which the water had come, she felt that it was carrying her over the desert area where the ship had been. If that were the case, the ship should be directly ahead of her, moving in the same direction. The ship was so large that Lilith had fully expected to see it the instant she emerged from the water. She rose up higher on her tree and squinted to see farther ahead.
There did appear to be something out there—some kind of dark object—but it was terribly far away. She stared at it for a long time, until she believed it might, in fact, be the ship. The shape and height of it seemed right. But it was so far away! How would she ever catch up to it? She thought about this. It seemed to her that her body ought to travel faster through the tide than a heavy ship. But how, then, had it gotten so far ahead of her?
The debris was breaking up even more as it spread out over the wide expanse. And the rush of the water seemed to be slowing down as well. Lilith was tempted to swim toward the dark object in the distance. But what if she didn’t make it? Most of the floating wreckage was too small to be of any use to her. And as she got farther out there would be fewer items from which to choose. What were her chances of finding another tree? Lilith bit her lip. Could she make it that far—assuming the dark object really was the ship? She pondered a moment, struck by the gravity of her situation.
Lilith decided not to take the chance. Holding tight to her tree she began to kick her feet, pushing the tree ahead of her as she went. She could imagine Asmodeous looking out over the sea from the ship, searching the waters for her.
It occurred to her that the city’s rubble may have slowed her down. It probably created resistance against the tide in spite of its overwhelming force. The ship, on the other hand, would have easily cleared all wreckage from its path. Lilith tried to squash these negative thoughts by kicking her feet faster. But the ship just seemed to get further away.
She was surprised to find other survivors still bobbing around in the water. She spotted no other Nephilim, only the sons of men. A few actually cried out to Lilith for help. Others just stared at her with little or no expression in their eyes. One man tried to grab hold of Lilith’s tree, but she perversely shook him off. As much as she dreaded the thought of being alone out there, enduring the company of one of them seemed even worse. She kicked with all her might, hardly able to hide her hatred for them as she passed. This was all their fault. She took comfort in the knowledge that they wouldn’t last long.
Why, oh why hadn’t she listened to Asmodeous? If she had she would be with him and the other Nephilim on the ship, not stranded out here with the sons of men. What would she give to feel his arms around her again?
It was odd, how warm the water was. Had it burst forth from the earth that way? It happened just as Azazyl predicted. She wondered again if the fallen angels were now trapped in the earth’s center, locked in the hellish abyss that made up its core.
Clinging to the dead tree, Lilith was suddenly reminded of one of the stories the women of Kiriath Arba told about her. It had angered her at the time, but in that moment she couldn’t help seeing the irony. In the story, Lilith was a serpent living in a tree that belonged to the goddess of life. The tree was Kiriath Arba, and the goddess of life symbolized whatever benevolent spirit had previously blessed their fertile city. But since the tree had been infiltrated with the serpent it only bred death. This was how she came to be the Goddess of Death.
Lilith wondered if Asmodeous ever guessed that it really was her who brought death to all those children—not through any demonic activity, as the sons of men supposed—but by simply contaminating their drinking water.
It had all been too much, watching the sons of men reproduce like rabbits while Lilith wasn’t able to give Asmodeous a single child. Perhaps if the people of Kiriath Arba hadn’t been so judgmental, insisting her barrenness was some kind of condemnation from God. She’d wanted to see if they would draw the same conclusion when it happened to them. But of course, they had not. Hypocrites! When they failed to reproduce it was a different matter altogether.
Lilith felt that Asmodeous wouldn’t mind. He wasn’t particularly thrilled by the rate at which the sons of men were multiplying either. He felt they needed more giants in Kiriath Arba. No matter how weak and pathetic the sons of men were, there was no denying that there was power in numbers. Anak had done more than his share, of course, but even so, he was no match for the sons of men, who often brought another child into the world every year.
When Lilith was much younger, she too had come to be with child, but not wanting to give up her status in the Kalag-ga, she’d gone to Enki, an angel who understood such matters. Since Lilith was so far along in her pregnancy, Enki had taken her outside the city and put the sickness into her drinking water. Due to the contagious nature of the illness, Enki nursed her himself, allowing no one else to come near. Lilith was terribly sick for days, but she survived. And on the third day the fetus was born dead.
It was a contagion, that was all. It was not the will of any god or demon, as the sons of men supposed. The ongoing—albeit peaceful—segregation between the sons of men and the Nephilim made it easy. All Lilith had to do was infect the water supply of the city’s most insufferable band of ‘pure bloods’—as they called themselves—and she could be fairly confident that the ‘affliction’ would remain among them and their slaves. And for the most part it had. The Nephilim and their wives had had the wherewithal to draw even closer into their own circle, thus escaping the worst of the disease.
Lilith was suddenly very tired. Sadness
settled over her like a too-heavy blanket. All the years of fighting—fighting to be accepted by her village, fighting to become a warrior, fighting to be with the man she loved, and now fighting for her very life—had taken their toll. She was always fighting. Her very existence seemed to be at odds with everything.
*
3 days later
The world was eerily quiet. The soft, steady rain was the only sound. The waters no longer rushed in any particular direction. There were no birds in the sky and, even more disturbing, Lilith hadn’t encountered a single fish. She was growing weaker. Not trusting the water, Lilith drank only drops of rain. She was so hungry. She divided her time between catching raindrops on her tongue, sleeping, and gazing about. The darkness had not lifted, but her eyes were becoming more adjusted to it. Her thoughts wandered aimlessly. Was it daytime or night? The dark thing that might have been the ship was no longer there. She’d awakened to find that it had either floated away or had never been there to begin with. It was possible that that first, thunderous wave had destroyed it. Even the temple had been shaken to its foundation when it struck, and it had been constructed of stone. She remembered the long, terrible boom that seemed to go on and on. No one had anticipated anything like this. The ship had been constructed of petrified cedar from the forest. It was strong, but was it as strong as stone?
Lilith looked around for the umpteenth time. She could see nothing but water in every direction. There was nothing to swim toward. It was peculiar how disappointment could keep re-emerging, again and again. She desperately wished someone else—anyone—had survived.
It was the same below the surface. Lilith searched the water repeatedly, but she could find no signs of life. And there seemed to be no sign of a bottom, either. She swam down as far as she dared, until pain pierced her eyes and ears. Occasionally she came across a piece of floating debris, but there was nothing left of life. She began collecting the debris and bringing it back with her to her floating tree. Later, she would examine it for hours at a time, trying to figure out what it was, where it came from, and whether or not it could be put to use. Her collection had thus far proved mostly undecipherable and completely useless.