To a man, they had stared in awe and wonder at the switch from the black sun to the red moon and back again.
“There's about a thousand theologians on television, making their own guesses.” Roman flipped to another channel.
News anchors, wide-eyed and breathless, reported from around the world. Pandemonium on unthinkable levels had broken out everywhere. Scenes of looting, panic and upheaval had become as common as breathing overnight.
Gray light spilled in the windows, blanketing the living area of the sanctuary. Occasionally, Christian stopped to stare out, hands leaning on the panes, head shaking over one thought or another.
Dragar had half a mind to ask him what he was thinking, but didn't want to get into another argument about trying to find his son. It was difficult for him to sit back and do nothing, but rationally, he knew their best bet for survival was right here.
They didn't even know what continent the agents were keeping Christian's son on.
“They'll debate it until they're blue in the face,” Dragar muttered.
“I'm almost surprised the reporters are willing to leave their families to do any reporting,” Roman added.
“...hey. What's that?” Christian's posture at the window took on one of alarm.
Dragar set down his glass of water and approached the windows. Roman turned off the TV and joined them.
Far off on the gloomy horizon, something darker appeared. Dragar squinted, trying to make it out. Thunderclouds didn't move in such an eerie, roiling way. They were not ships or planes.
It wasn't until the mass drew closer to Greece, covering the entire Mediterranean, that Dragar knew. He stalked away from the windows toward the phone.
“Where are you going?” Roman asked.
“To call Father Valanzano. No one's going to be listening in with all that going on outside. The tribulation has begun.”
Chapter Fifteen
Alexandra didn't know if they'd gone ten miles or a hundred. Sometimes visibility cleared enough to see fifty yards or so across the water in any direction, which was really no help without landmarks or other visual signs to guide them.
The entire vessel crawled with inky insects.
Dracht kept rechecking his heading against the instruments on the panel, making what adjustments he needed to.
An hour and a half after the swarm hit them, the engine sputtered and died.
Alexandra rushed to the panel where Dracht looked over the gauges. He spat a vivid curse that did not reassure her.
“...what the hell are we going to do? We have to go out in it to get to the engine,” she pointed out.
“No kidding.” He hit the edge of the wheel with his palm and stalked away, raking a hand through his hair. “I'm going to have to cover myself as well as I can and see what's wrong with the engine.”
“You can't go out there. If they bring you down, I can't fight them off and drag you back up the stairs here.” Yet they couldn't just sit there indefinitely. On the other hand—if they were stuck, and the rains came, there was no better place to be than on the boat.
“If we sit here, they'll find a way in. We'll float off course by god knows how many miles and risk running aground. Barring all that, if this continues, we'll run out of fresh water and then we'll really be in trouble.” Dracht glared out the windows, hands on his hips.
Alexandra paced back and forth. Dehydration was their most serious issue besides the swarm. “Well. We haven't checked the whole boat for extra water supplies. If you have to go down to check the engines, maybe do a quick search for that, too. But I say give it an hour and try the engine again from up here.”
“There's probably clean water for at least a day, unless the people hadn't gotten around to refilling all their tanks.” Dracht opened the door to the bathroom to check for infestation, found nothing apparently, and went in to start opening the few cupboards to search them. A moment later he came out, empty handed.
“For now, I guess, we're just sitting ducks.” Alexandra didn't like the thought of floating aimlessly on the ocean. Without the engine grinding beneath them, she could hear the tick-click-click of the bugs industriously trying to get in.
“Yeah, well. Let's hope the damn things get interested in something else and buzz off.” Dracht thumped against the console and stared balefully out at the swarm.
***
From gray, to black. Minna stood five feet from the mouth of the cave, wrapped in gloom, watching the hoard descend on the Dead Sea. Inside, protected from the initial onslaught, she could only hear the sinister hiss of their wings and the drone of millions of bodies as they converged on the land.
She wondered whether she should break the third seal, and then the Sixth, before the bugs could crawl inside and find her. Already she could see them milling on the rock at the opening, twisting and turning and gathering.
Soon, very soon, they would swarm through the cave, over her, and then it would be too late to complete her final tasks.
Before she turned away, she noticed something peculiar.
The thick flux of insects at the entrance weren't coming any further in. There was nothing preventing them, nothing in their way. Just uneven walls of rock that proved no serious obstacle.
Yet, they did not come. Minna stood transfixed, watching them cover every inch of ground beyond the cave, without coming in. Perhaps it was a reprieve. A chance to give her time to do what she needed to do. What she was supposed to do. What she, and all the rest of her sisters, had promised to do when the time came.
Sinking deeper into the cave, Minna retreated from the buzzing swarm to feel her way to the book of seals.
To the third seal. The seal of rain.
One more before the Sixth seal itself.
***
Evelyn caught glimpses of Jerusalem in snips; smothered structures old and new, countless accidents on highways, lumps on the ground that she knew had once been a person. Wide scale mass hysteria as the pestilence wreaked havoc over the earth.
Rhett proved himself to be a worthy driver in times of crisis, avoiding blocked intersections with the help of the GPS, navigating the terrain of insects with ruthless determination.
On the radio, frantic newscasters spilled news in bursts of drama that, for once, were not overcooked or over exaggerated.
In every city, looting and killing and suicide were at all time highs. Governments, those who understood the implications in time, had taken cover in their billion dollar bunkers while the rest of the population was left to rot on the surface. Military organization had fallen apart at the seams, personnel scattering to be with their families when the realization hit that there was no way to win this war. Be with loved ones, pray, do unto others as you would have done unto you.
Every possible theologian, religious leader, media personality and diplomat the stations could get to phone in with thoughts and suppositions had been lined up for hours. She heard a humility in men and women's voices she'd never heard on the broadcasts before, a dawning realization that things were not quite as they seemed.
Humans were not in control, could not battle such extreme elements no matter how great the technology. Not this time. The world had seen pockets of isolated incidents with devastating earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes. Small warning signs that humans were fairly inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
One far out personality thundered that humans were getting what they deserved—after all, hadn't we been warned global warming could have devastating effects?
“Yes, because global warming is the reason trillions of bugs just appeared out of thin air. Ass.” Rhett snapped the radio off with a grunt of disgust.
If the situation had been any less dire, Evelyn might have laughed.
“We're about ten minutes out,” he warned.
“Maybe I can use this windshield protector to help cover my head.” A glance along the floorboards provided nothing in the way of help. No extra sweaters, towels, nothing to drape herself in so the insects
didn't overwhelm her. Just the windshield visor she held over the hole in the glass.
“I'll give you my shirt. I really wish you'd just let me go with you,” he said for the tenth time.
“You can't.”
“It's not like I'm going to remember where the hell this is, much less where they are, or even want to come back and mess with it.” He stabbed a somewhat sarcastic look at her in the rear view mirror.
In times of duress, Rhett resorted to cynical wisecracks that breached the doom threatening to swallow her whole. Without ridicule, he added levity to hopeless situations and showed her that they were not so hopeless after all.
“I'll be all right. Really. I know just where to go,” she said.
“That doesn't make me feel a lot better. I can tell you one thing though—if you're not back in fifteen minutes? I'm coming for you whether you like it or not.”
What else could he do? Rhett couldn't go to Eden on his own, and even if she explained how to expose the Gate, the Guardian wouldn't let him in. Rhett was as vulnerable as the rest of humanity and that he was so hell bent on sticking by her side touched her.
“All right.” She wouldn't argue. A warm, blossoming feeling in her chest resonated with overtones of love. His selfless dedication and unshakable protectiveness made her feel cared for, like some precious commodity he would fight and die for.
He'd been right. She was in love with him.
The car came to a stop at the end of the last road. He put it in park and left the engine idling, windshield wipers swishing insects out of the way. Ahead, Evelyn could see spare glimpses of the Dead Sea, understood by the terrain they were where they needed to be.
Rhett peeled his shirt up over his head and handed it back over the seat. The wound on top of his shoulder had scabbed over, the blood dried and dark against his golden skin.
“Here. Use this to cover your head, then shield it with that thing.” He ticked his chin at the visor.
Finding herself in a conundrum, she leaned toward him without taking her hands off the shield that blocked the hole in the window.
“Put it on, will you? If I move my hands--”
“I got it.” He twisted in the seat and leaned back to slide the shirt over her shoulders, leaving the hem around her face and throat. Pulling the material snug, he tucked it as best he could into her collar.
“Thanks.” She held still while he worked, taking mental inventory of all the places the insects might gain entrance to skin: the short sleeves of her shirt, the hem of her pants, even the waistband if they were determined enough. Her face was open season. There wasn't anything she could do about it if she wanted to see where she was going.
“That good?” he asked.
“Perfect. I'll try to be back here in fifteen minutes. Just depends who I find in there.” Ashrael would not be talked down out of his mission if that's who was breaking the seals.
Rhett didn't seem happy about the entire thing. At all.
Counting to three, Evelyn prepared herself and yanked the shield away from the window. Bugs flickered in, buzzing too close to her ear.
She realized too late that she'd just left Rhett with no way to cover the hole. Opening the door, she barreled out into the writhing, swirling mass. Immediately she felt them cling and clutch and land everywhere.
Behind her, Rhett closed the door. What he did about the window she couldn't say. She didn't dare look back. Forward, onward, cursing silently when a bug crawled across her lips.
She ran forward, disgusted at the crunch underfoot, using the shield more as an impromptu swatter than something to cover her head with. On the bare skin of her arms, they tickled and pinched and skittered, creeping her out to the point she wanted to scream.
The thought of one inside her mouth prevented her from doing so.
Running over the ground, she headed for the edge of the foothills that climbed into short cliffs facing the water. The Dead Sea was all but unrecognizable in this state, though she could smell the salt on the air, hear the lap of water among the hissing buzz. The going became rough and treacherous the closer she got to the cave. Many of them pocked the surface of the cliffs, black holes leading in.
Behind her, the blare of the BMW's horn startled her. She stumbled, caught her balance, and kept going. Rhett must be in trouble. Too far now to turn around, she picked up the pace. The only way to get back to Rhett was to go forward and deal with the seals.
No one else was around, no signs of life anywhere along the edge of the sea. No campers or wanderers—no one.
Ahead, she saw the correct formation of rock near the cave she needed and angled up toward it. Her clothes were heavy, covered in bugs, her arms itching madly from their legs. At least, she consoled herself, nothing felt like it bit her. Using the shield, she swatted it out ahead of her, muffling a scream when another bug tried to crawl up her nose.
Bursting into the mouth of the cave, she brushed at her body with the shield.
“Ashrael? Minna? Alex? It's Evelyn.” Calling out, her voice bouncing back on the rock, she noticed a strange thing. The insects peeled off of their own accord, or flew off in some cases, at a rate much faster than she swatted. In seconds she was free of them. Not one crawled anywhere on her body when she patted herself down.
What was that about?
“Evelyn! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Eden.” Minna's voice floated from the black depths of the cave. She appeared after squeezing past the jutting piece of stone that nearly blocked the back.
“Minna! I knew it had to be one of you. Or Ashrael. You didn't break the rain seal, did you? Minna? Where's Dragar?” She hugged her sister after dropping the shield, forgetting the bugs—and the distant blare of the horn—for now.
Evelyn knew by the look on her sister's face that the last and final seal before the big one had been snapped.
“It's done. And I had to leave him behind,” Minna said with remorse in her voice for whatever duplicity she'd perpetrated on the eldest Templar.
“Oh no. What about the Sixth Seal?” The one that would rain fire and brimstone, literally, down around their heads. Evelyn held her breath. The moment stretched like taffy, tension making her shoulders tight. She wasn't sure the situation was reversible even now, with three seals broken, but with the Sixth she was almost positive there would be no turning back. Almost. The Guardian of the East Gate would have the answers.
She would have to question Minna about Dragar later.
“It's not done yet. In the morning, maybe tomorrow evening,” Minna said.
Evelyn guessed there was an hour or two of daylight, if she could consider it that, left before nightfall. “Don't break it, Minna. Maybe there's still a way to stop the process. We can't prevent the rain, but we can go to Eden and appeal to Ashrael. He'll know what to do. We can salvage this.”
“You know as well as I do that the imminent signs of downfall have been around us for years. The second we discovered we couldn't move around the country at all, that we would be traced where ever we went? That was the moment I knew Ashrael meant when he said to rely on instinct.” Minna stated her case quietly.
“No, no,” she countered, grabbing Minna lightly by the shoulders. There was just enough gray light to see her sister's eyes. Minna had always been the rock in the group, the oldest of the daughters yet living, the one the rest of them looked to during times of crisis. Evelyn understood the why of it, she knew mankind hovered on the brink—had been for years—but she couldn't give up yet. Now that push had come to shove, she wanted to fight for it.
“Evelyn, it's already begun. There's no stopping it now.”
“We don't know that for sure. It's what we've always surmised. The pestilence and the rain will take thousands, maybe millions, but it won't take everyone. If you break the Sixth, it'll wipe out half the population if not more.” Evelyn urged Minna to reconsider. She licked her lips, desperate to change her sister's mind.
“The only thing that will have changed is that
some people will have become more humble. But the march toward domination and control? It will continue. When they recover—and they all will eventually—we'll pick right back up where we left off. You know this is true, Evelyn.” Minna chided her with a knowing look.
A niggling whisper argued that Minna was right. If they turned back the tide, humans would not have learned enough of a lesson. A different voice insisted that enough of the survivors would take the hint and make the changes they needed to. People would find the right path from the chaos, at least for a while. The struggle for power would be tempered by those who remembered this event and the warning it contained.
“This is a big wake up call, Minna. Look at what's going on. We've driven through the cities, seen firsthand what they're suffering. And they are suffering. Those who believe have to watch those who don't race through the stages of disbelief, understanding and fear. I have to believe compassion will rise out of the ashes, that humans will realize we shouldn't be fighting each other, that we're all too dependent on technology, that science shouldn't rule mother nature. There is beauty in the old ways, too, and moderation is the key in all things. They deserve a chance, we deserve a chance to make it better.” Impassioned, Evelyn searched Minna's eyes.
“It's not up for us to decide any longer. Three seals have been broken--”
“That's why we have to get to Eden. Ashrael will know what to do. He'll help us,” Evelyn said, recognizing the moment her sister capitulated.
“And what if he doesn't? What if he says that this was supposed to happen? That it was the plan all along?”
“Then there's nothing we can do, but at least we know we tried. C'mon, Minna. We have to get to Eden before the other Guardians arrive and break the Sixth Seal—and all the others—themselves.”
Minna broke eye contact and looked deeper into the cave. “I have to close the stone. We can't leave it open.”
“Go then. Hurry.”
Minna stepped away, squeezing through the narrow space between the rock and the wall, disappearing from sight.
Evelyn eyed the mouth of the cave where, to her amazement, the bugs gathered but did not come in. The whole ground looked alive, the air not as choked with tiny bodies over the water as it had been. Maybe the worst had passed.
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