by Nancy Madore
She kept thinking that perhaps the fish were nearer the bottom. Who knew how far down it went? Lilith tried to explore deeper with each dive, but the piercing pain in her eyes and ears always forced her back to the surface. It felt like her head might explode if she ventured down too far. And as well, she didn’t want to stray too far from her tree. She wasn’t entirely sure that the water wasn’t moving, and she couldn’t risk losing the one thing that could keep her afloat indefinitely. It was her lifeline, her talisman. She didn’t like to be away from it too long.
Lilith’s stomach rumbled painfully. She was so hungry. Azazyl foretold that it would rain for many days. How long had it been? It was impossible to tell with the constant darkness but Lilith felt that she must have made it through the worst of it by now. Surely it had been more than a week. But how long could a person survive without food? Lilith had no idea. Thank goodness for the steady rainwater to at least quench her thirst. She laughed out loud at the irony of this strange thought. Then she abruptly stopped, shocked by the sound of her laughter. Tentatively she laughed again, just to hear the sound. How lovely it was! And how peculiar it felt to smile; how odd, the simple pulling of the muscles. But it felt good too. She kept the smile on her face, and just having it there seemed to conjure thoughts befitting the expression. She suddenly remembered that first, fateful meeting with Asmodeous when she had attempted to join the Kalag-ga. She laughed again, but this time her laughter was bittersweet. Yet she felt a strange certainty that it wouldn’t end this way. In spite of the bleak surroundings, Lilith was confident she would see Asmodeous again.
Oh father, she silently prayed, why won’t you come to me in my dreams at least? Even from the abyss, surely he could sense her need! Lilith continued to pray to him, resting her upper body on the tree as she implored Anu, the heavens, and even God Himself.
*
Lilith woke up with a start. There was confusion—her senses, her surroundings, her thoughts—and she couldn’t breathe! She gasped. She was under water. She must have slipped off the tree during her sleep. Panic seized her.
Lilith’s arms began flailing as she grasped all around in search of something to grab hold of. Where was her tree? If only she could get above the water’s surface to see it. But she couldn’t seem to breach the surface for long enough to even take in a full breath. She frantically clutched at everything—and nothing.
She stopped gasping for air, reaching the dim realization that her head was under water. She seemed to be bobbing just below the surface, like an unfortunate worm helplessly dangling on a fisherman’s line. She tried to contain her fear as the gravity of this new development set in.
Her vision seemed to be growing narrower, as if a great darkness was closing in. She was suddenly keenly aware of each and every missed opportunity. A choking sensation burned through her and it took all her effort to resist it.
Something was hovering above her, like a shadow. Her tree? She reached out her arms but it was too far away. It was too late. Too late. A tiny speck of debris caught her eye as it floated by, light and tranquil and indifferent. Lilith stared at it as it heedlessly made its way through the vast, watery deep. It seemed to be mocking her. She felt a sudden stab of envy. What must it feel like to exist so comfortably? To essentially be nothing and yet to be suffered to exist?
Lilith was startled from her trance by a searing pain in her lungs. Her body felt inexplicably heavy and burdened. The water appeared to be thickening and congealing all around her. The murky depths distorted her vision even further. It was getting darker. Time seemed to cease its passing.
She was distracted by a sound, thick and muddled, that had been there all along but was suddenly getting louder. Hope surged through her. Was someone there? But no, she realized with mild surprise that she was hearing the steady pounding of her own heart. It kept growing louder and more persistent, as if it were sending her a message, like the drummers in a war march, repeating orders, a kind of mantra; let go, let go, let go.
No! Lilith cried inwardly. I want to live! The choking sensation kept tempting her while the pain kept searing her lungs. She mustn’t take a breath. She thrashed her limbs against the solid wall of water…to no avail. She was sinking; perhaps her wild movements were making her descend even faster. How far had she sunk? Don’t look up, she told herself. Don’t look up!
There was a terrifying blackness below her. Don’t look up! Her flailing limbs stopped. She no longer knew which way was up. The pain in her lungs was unbearable. She couldn’t endure it. Yet she held on longer. Even pain was preferable to the alternative. She finally succumbed to self-pity, struck by the unfairness of it all. Until that very instant she never stopped believing that she would survive.
She mustn’t breath. To breath would bring instant death. And she wanted to go on living! What she would give to prolong her life, even here, alone and lost in the great deluge, the pain excruciating, and yet; to exist! Oh precious life, where will you go?
The pain was extreme and unimaginable. Lilith thought about the dark place. Were the Others waiting for her at that moment, preparing to collect her soul? She could feel cold, icy fingers, prodding and pulling, gently massaging her into death. She thrashed about to fight them off. Small bubbles slipped through her lips against her will. She renewed her struggles in earnest. More bubbles escaped. She fought harder, grasping and scratching in vain.
At last she succumbed to the overwhelming need for air, but instead of the relief she craved there was terrible pain—even worse than the other! Everything she’d suffered thus far dulled by comparison. Her last impression was of something thick and solid, like a tongue, sliding down her throat.
And even in that instant, with her final thought, she still couldn’t believe that no would be coming to save her.
Chapter 34
Present Day
Nadia was starting to feel marginally better. Her hair was clean and hung in small, damp coils all around her head. It had been well over an hour since she washed it but her hair was so thick it took hours to dry. Daylight was waning and Gordon got up to turn on a light. The moment seemed surreal. The coffee had just started kicking in and yet night was approaching. It was a peculiar feeling.
“Not that this is the hardest part of the story to swallow,” she began conversationally—“But are you guys now going to tell me that science is wrong and that the flood actually happened?”
“Yep,” said Clive.
“It’s not that they’re wrong, exactly,” corrected Gordon. “Just inconclusive.”
“At the moment there are as many theories to support the flood as there are to refute it,” said Will. “The problem is that flood geology has become synonymous with the-ology. Scientists are afraid the one will confirm the other, so they have an incentive to discredit the flood.”
“They’re throwing the baby out with the bath water,” said Gordon. “For those of us who consider the bible a valuable history book, it’s discouraging that so much of the science community refuses to take it seriously. If you believe, for example, that the Israelites were led out of Egypt by a man named Moses, do you also have to believe that God helped him do it? Is it possible that Moses only thought God was helping him? Or even more probably, that Moses created those signs from God in order to get the people to follow him to begin with?”
“Just because certain events in history are misinterpreted doesn’t mean they didn’t happen,” agreed Will. He was texting someone on his phone as they spoke.
“Ironically, the science community is doing exactly what they accuse religion of doing,” said Gordon. “They come up with a theory and, if nobody proves it wrong, they call it a fact. The reality is that they haven’t proved their theories about the flood any more than bible scholars have proved theirs. They can call them ‘accepted scientific conclusions’ all they want. That doesn’t make them true.”
Nadia was impressed by their reasoning.
“There are unanswered questions about the past no matter whic
h side you’re on,” continued Gordon. “The bible backers claim that a global flood would account for many geological phenomenon, from the development and placement of fossils to more extreme geological formations like the Grand Canyon. They have many theories about how the flood happened that coincide with what we know about water beneath the earth’s crust and ruptures in the tectonic plates and so forth. The scientists argue—rather narrowly in my opinion—that based on the geological changes taking place right now we can come up with a timetable to estimate how long it really took for those changes to happen. According to their timetable it would take billions of years. And their timetable might be right too, if all the factors remained exactly the same for all those billions of years in question.”
“Which is stupid,” interjected Clive. “It’s like saying ‘this is how long it will take to pollute the earth’ based on the rate of pollution happening right this minute. Scientists should know better. What if a nuclear bomb goes off? You don’t think that’s going to bump up the clock just a little?”
“That’s right,” said Gordon. “While it’s true that these geological changes—like erosion, for example—are taking place at an established pace at this moment, it doesn’t change the fact that there are many events that could accelerate the process.”
“Like a catastrophic flood,” interjected Clive.
“This has always been the real issue between science and religion,” said Gordon. “How long did it take for the world to evolve to this point? And the simple fact is that scientists can’t prove their timetable any more than the religious community can prove theirs.”
“Wow,” was all Nadia could think of to say.
Will had stepped out of the room for the latter part of their discussion and now he returned, phone in hand.
“Shakhra appears to have passed the white glove treatment, but they’re keeping an eye on them anyway, and they’ve even put tails on a few of their employees,” he told them.
“What else?” asked Clive.
“Not much, I’m afraid. LA’s been put on high alert. They’re watching shipments from medical supply companies both coming and going. And they’re looking at everyone attending the seminar.” Will sighed heavily. “It’s not enough, but it’s the best they can do with what little we have. Something better turn up soon.”
“The seminar begins Tuesday,” said Clive, unnecessarily reminding them of the ticking clock. “That’s the day after tomorrow.”
They all looked at Nadia.
“Okay, so Lilith drowned in the flood and was sent to the dark place,” prompted Clive. “What happened next?”
Chapter 35
December 1948
They’d spent the entire night listening to the incredible story of Lilith’s life and death. It was the first time Helene stayed up all night and she was surprised to find that she wasn’t even tired.
“What was it like…in the dark place?” she asked, not wanting the story to end.
“There aren’t words to describe it,” said Lilith. She had hardly moved from her position on the couch. The bottom half of her face was still covered by her hair and it was if she had been speaking to them with her large, expressive eyes. Helene was sure that she would never forget those eyes, any more than she would forget Lilith’s story. “It’s hard to comprehend unless you’ve experienced it. It’s an infinity of nothingness and desolation.”
“Weren’t there other Nephilim souls there?”
“Yes, but the dark place is so immense and our souls have no form there. I thought I could sense souls from time to time, but there was no way to connect with them. There was one time…,” Lilith paused. Tears started in her eyes, but she abruptly blinked them away. It was a moment before she continued in a shaky voice. “This one soul…I thought might be Gilgamesh. It felt so much like him.” The memory appeared to torment her still. She laughed a bitter little laugh and shrugged. “Maybe I just wanted it to be him. I guess I’ll never know for sure.”
“What did you do there?” Helene asked, not quite able to wrap her mind around such place.
“I mostly just kept moving through the darkness in search of an escape. For all these years—five thousand did you say?—I hardly ever stopped moving through the darkness.”
Everyone was quiet. Daylight was approaching but the sun still loitered just beyond the horizon. Helene looked around, feeling peculiarly alive. Everything seemed the same but different—surreal. Even her father seemed unfamiliar. But the feeling passed and was gone.
“What are you going to do with me?” asked Lilith, and there was another pause while they all appeared to consider this.
“You’ve been honest with us,” said Butch, forgetting, it seemed, that she didn’t have a choice in the matter—“So I suppose the least we can do is to be honest with you.” He laughed then. “The truth is I don’t think any of us have the slightest idea what to do with you.” Helene’s father and Huxley made sounds of agreement.
“I suppose if you’d asked us that question yesterday we’d have told you that we would present Huxley’s tablet along with your Book of the Dead—and you—to the world on a silver platter,” Butch continued. “But now…,” He examined Lilith thoughtfully, cocking his head to one side as was his habit. “I don’t see how we can let this get out.”
“Are you mad?” interjected Huxley. “You can’t be suggesting we keep this to ourselves!”
“I would rather that than to jeopardize all of humanity!”
“How would revealing this discovery jeopardize humanity?” Huxley was incredulous.
“You can ask that after what we’ve just heard?” Butch demanded, his usual calm demeanor slipping in the face of Huxley’s indignation. “We could be opening Pandora’s box here. Not to mention that we’d be going against…let’s just say, higher powers.”
“So now you’re religious?”
“It has nothing to do with religion,” Butch argued. “You heard what Lilith said. Some very powerful beings have gone to a lot of trouble to lock these souls away. And let’s not forget the obvious risk they pose to us humans.”
Helene had the sense that they had forgotten that Lilith was there, listening.
“I don’t see how the world knowing about these ancient souls and their purpose puts us at risk,” Huxley countered. “It’s not as if they cease existing if we ignore them! It’s not knowing that puts us at risk.”
“But in the wrong hands…”
“All the more reason to go public,” insisted Huxley. “Bring the entire science community into it!”
“I disagree,” said Butch. “I think that’s a foolhardy idea. All you’re thinking about is the glory.”
“Yes! Of course I want the glory! I’ve spent my whole life searching for this!” Huxley paused, making a visible effort to calm down. “Look, if we can bring back one type of soul, it stands to reason that we could figure out how to bring back other souls too.”
“Angels put together this formula for bringing back Nephilim souls,” Butch reminded him. “So they could live here, in human bodies.”
“If you think about it,” Helene’s father, who had only been listening up to this point, suddenly spoke—“Lilith’s probably not the first. Others may already be out there. Why, this would explain ghosts, or even claims of demon possession. These so called ghosts could actually be Nephilim souls, haunting the earth. We may well have solved these phenomena with our discovery!”
“You too, Bob?” Butch seemed genuinely crushed.
“What are you suggesting we do Butch?” he asked.
“I think we should destroy Huxley’s tablet, for one,” replied Butch.
“Destroy the…heavens above!” Huxley was flabbergasted. “What have we come on this journey for then? No. No.”
“Come on now, Butch,” reasoned Helene’s father. “You heard Lilith. There are several copies out there. Others could turn up—if they haven’t already—and those really could fall into the wrong hands.”
�
��I can’t answer to what’s out there,” said Butch. “I only know this tablet can still be used with other Books of the Dead for the same result. God only knows how many of these souls might be prevented from coming back if we destroy it now!”
As Helene listened she wondered again what would happen to Lilith. Would they keep her in some kind of exhibit in a museum or allow her to roam free? Lilith seemed to be wondering the same thing as she listened quietly to the men as if she was hanging on their every word.
How Helene would have loved to talk to Edward just then! Never had she missed him so much. Yet her overall excitement was tempered by a creeping uneasiness. Perhaps it was Butch’s influence, but it felt a little like they really had opened a Pandora’s box. If only Lilith’s teeth were not so terrifyingly sharp.
The argument between Butch and Huxley was becoming more heated and, sensing his daughter’s discomfort, Robert Trevelyan prudently led her out of doors. There was a crisp chill in the air but the approaching sun cheered Helene with the promise of warmth.
“What do you think will happen?” asked Helene.
“I couldn’t say,” replied her father thoughtfully. Helene stared at him, amazed by how composed he always remained under even the most extraordinary circumstances. He noticed her expression and smiled. “Quite a turn up for the books, eh?” he said.
Helene shivered and her father put his arm around her.
“You’re freezing!” he exclaimed. “We better go back inside. Maybe you can find something to do in the bedroom while we finish our discussion?”
“Okay,” Helene agreed, already knowing what she would do once she was alone. Edward might not be there in person but she could still tell him what happened.