Eve of Redemption

by Tom Mohan

  Again his world shattered. Again his mind screamed.

  Deep in the tortured blackness of his soul, John Burke found himself face to face with the monster that dwelt within him. His conscience blazed like a roman candle through the blackness. The world outside his agony ceased to exist. Everything—all thought, feeling, hope, and anger—seared into one thoughtless shriek for mercy.

  There is no mercy.

  How well he knew this truth.

  There is no hope.

  The words burned letters of flame in the blackness of the world.

  There is no mercy. There is no hope.

  Burke’s inner being tipped its head back and screamed the words. His universe trembled at his hate-filled shrieks, recoiled at his pain. Incredible searing darkness tore him apart, shredded his very soul, and sent the flaming molecules that were once John Burke shooting at light speed to the farthest reaches of creation.

  There is no mercy.

  There is no hope.

  Then what?

  There is death.

  Yes, there was death. Everyone died. It was inevitable.

  The pain lessened. His mind still shrieked in agony, but some part of it latched onto this new hope.

  There is no mercy.

  There is hope.

  Death is hope.

  He began to let go, no longer struggling with the tortured destruction of his existence, but giving into it, feeding on it. He allowed himself to relish the pain, drink in the agony like a stiff shot. There was nothing temporary about death, though. Death was permanent and never-ending. He let the thoughts that had so rudely invaded his deserved torture fade, making room for the supernova that would burn away any remaining vestige of the being that had been John Burke. Again, his unleashed soul screamed with such force that he knew it must crush the planets. He felt all that remained of him be torn apart, no two molecules spared.

  Death approached, not as the tunnel of light so many told of when coming back from near-death experiences, but as a swirling blackness so deep no light would ever penetrate it. It came at him, smashing aside all that had filled his mind—the flames, the words. Everything exploded before this mass of destruction. He wanted to welcome it, to embrace it, but the closer it came, the more he struggled to flee. His pain intensified until his raging mind could no longer grasp any sense of reality. And then he knew. Death was not peaceful oblivion. Death was agonizing pain. Eternal pain. And true to his wish, death had come for him.

  THE SERPENT REMAINED out of sight until the two men disappeared up the trail toward the lake, leaving the sickly-looking woman behind. He felt excitement building within him at the idea of something new. He didn’t care that he didn’t hold complete control over the situation. Whatever happened, he knew it would be a blast. He felt so giddy he almost laughed out loud. Almost. There would be time for laughter later. Lots of time for laughter and fun and—well, and anything he wanted. He’d just take care of this little problem first.

  The Serpent gave the men time to get out of earshot, and then stepped around the building. He didn’t bother with stealth. The woman still stood in the doorway. He saw her cock her head at the sound of his approach, but she didn’t turn toward him.

  “Who’s there?”

  The Serpent watched her reaction to his footsteps. She still didn’t look his way. Blind? Oh, this was just too good. This time he did laugh. “Well, ain’t you one sorry-looking excuse for humanity?”

  She turned her face toward him, her white eyes verifying his suspicions.

  “Who are you? What is it you want?”

  The Serpent noted the lack of fear in her voice, as if she had been expecting him. Another surprise. He wasn’t sure he liked this one. Still, what could this blind old hag do? He grinned. There was nothing to be concerned about.

  He was still in control.

  “You should have gone with your men,” the Serpent said as he strolled toward the woman. No hurry. No rush. “It ain’t safe in these parts for a woman to be alone. Even one as mud-ugly as you.”

  “So, you’re the one’s been causing all the trouble.” It wasn’t a question. The Serpent stared into her unblinking white eyes. Something in there unnerved him. Made him feel small.

  The Serpent hated feeling small.

  His icy calm began to melt away. “I think this is the day you die, mom. What’d ya think about that?”

  She laughed. Actually laughed at him. “I been dyin’ a long time. You think you can finish me off? We’ll see, we’ll see.”

  The Serpent felt familiar rage begin to build. Lord Denizen had taught him to control it, but he would have none of this disrespect. His hand slipped behind his back, beneath the denim jacket he always wore, and slid a long knife from the scabbard hidden there.

  The scrawny woman’s head cocked again at the sound of the blade sliding across leather. She recognized that sound. He could tell. The Serpent saw some of the cockiness leave her face.

  “What’s this all about, anyway? Why you been followin’ us?”

  The Serpent stepped closer, within striking distance. He listened for any sound from the men, but even the bugs had gone silent. It was just the two of them. This woman held no power over him. “To be honest, I don’t know myself. Now that’s funny, ain’t it? Real funny. I don’t even know myself.” He laughed. It felt good. He was back in control.

  “You must know something, else you wouldn’t be chasin’ us all over.”

  The Serpent thought about that. “What do you mean, chasing you? I only just saw you this morning.”

  The woman smiled, like she knew something he didn’t.

  “Oh, you may have just seen me this morning, but you been chasin’ us awhile now. You may not have known just who it was you was chasin’, but you been doing it. Why John Burke? Tell me that.”

  The Serpent felt his composure slipping once again. Who was this ugly wart, anyway? Something stirred inside him in a not altogether pleasant way. He felt nauseated, like he would puke. Something was definitely wrong. “Burke is a threat. He must be eliminated.”

  “John Burke? A threat? He’s nothing but a poor lonely man.”

  His sweat glistened on the knife’s handle. He should just gut her. Get it over with and let Bob take out the cop. Part of him really wanted to tell her, though. At least as much as he knew himself, which wasn’t a whole lot. What the heck, he thought. She’s gonna be dead in a couple minutes anyway.

  “As a poor lonely man he isn’t a threat, but what if he changes? What if he finds out?”

  “Finds out what?”

  “That he has the power to save the world. To hold back the chaos that’s coming. Don’t ask me how. It’s not my place to know. Don’t know, don’t care. I get to kill people, and that’s all I really care about.”

  “You’re a monster.”

  A smile stretched across the Serpent’s face. “Ya got that right.”

  With that, he lashed out with the knife, imagining it cutting into her sickly flesh. He could see on her face that she knew it was coming, was waiting for the pain. Then—his hand stopped, less than an inch from the woman’s gut.

  No! Not again!

  How could this be? Something was keeping him from killing this hag, just like he couldn’t kill Burke. A terrible rage welled up from deep within him. A roar of such utter madness as to nearly knock him senseless filled his head. He staggered back, the knife falling from his hand as he tried to hold his head together.

  Then he heard her voice, almost a whisper.

  “You can’t kill me, can you? He won’t let you. You can’t kill John either?”

  The Serpent wanted to scream at her, to lash out. “Shut up. Just shut up. I will kill you, and then the other two. Nothing can stop me.” He gritted his teeth, but Denizen’s fury subsided. He would kill them—painfully.

  “Like I said, I been dyin’ a long time, but God’s not done with me, apparently. He’s keepin’ me here for something.”

  “God has no power over me.�
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  “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong,” Her sightless eyes looked down at the knife lying where he had dropped it. “If God wants me alive, there is not a thing in the world you can do to change that. Not a thing.” She shrugged. “But if he wants to take me home, I’ve been ready to go for years now. Either way’s fine by me.”

  The Serpent picked up the knife. He had a feeling their stalemate was about to break. He could wait. The old bat stared off into space, like she was waiting for someone.

  “Lord Father, John Burke needs you real bad right now.”

  Was she praying? “Shut up, lady. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “You been watching over me for some time now, Lord, and I do appreciate it. Now John Burke could sure use some of that lookin’ after.” She smiled. “But you already know that, don’t you, Lord? You brought us all here for just this reason.”

  “Shut up!” The Serpent gripped the knife so hard his hand cramped. In his mind, he was burying it in the center of the old hag’s black heart, but his body refused to cooperate.

  The woman closed her eyes. “Yes, Holy Father, I understand. I’ve been ready for some time now. I thank you for letting me be a small part of all this.”

  A single tear slipped from beneath one eyelid and rolled down her cheek.

  Madness swirled around Burke in a frenzy of chaos as death came for him. There was no escape. He wondered if it had been like this for Laura and Sara. Had his little girl suffered as he was suffering now? The thought made him curse his existence all the more.

  The blackness of death converged on him now, poised to devour his soul. All thought fled.

  My son.

  Something pulled him back, not far, but enough to prevent him from stepping off the ragged edge of existence. He grasped at the unknown entity, as if grasping at a spiderweb to save himself from drowning.

  My son.

  A pitch-black tornado swirled around him as he searched for the source of the voice. The dark wind tore at him, pulling him down into the pit of the damned.

  I’m here.

  It came again, stronger this time. Something caught his attention, something there in the darkness. Light. Yes, a light. Distant, faint, but a light nonetheless. He struggled for it, willed himself to fly to it, but he was too weak. Death had a hold on him and would not give up its prize.

  THE SERPENT KNEW without a doubt that something had changed. A smile played on his lips as he saw the woman felt it as well. He spun the knife around in his palm. A whisper passed in the wind, and his smile widened.

  Her God had abandoned her.

  She said nothing, just stared up the trail where the men had disappeared a short time before.

  The Serpent spun the knife, took a step forward, and put a foot on the bottom stair to the door of the cabin in which the woman stood. Her blank eyes turned to him, her face finally showing the fear she should have felt all along.

  “What’s wrong, lady? You don’t look so good.”

  Having said it, he realized he was right. She didn’t look good, not good at all. She seemed to have aged at least ten years in a few seconds. This sickly chick had lost her protection. And she was going to pay for it. He moved to the top stair. She sensed his presence and stepped back into the gloom of the old cabin. Things were going his way again.

  Yep, life was good.

  WHO ARE YOU?

  I am who I am.

  Burke felt the torment lessen.

  Who are you?

  I am life.

  I don’t want to live. I don’t deserve to live.

  Burke’s gaze focused on the light. It shone, still little more than a dot in the distance. Waiting? The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, but the dot of light held him.

  Are you God?

  What does your heart tell you?

  I don’t believe in God.

  Search your heart, John Burke.

  I hate you.

  Burke knew the words to be true, but he was not prepared for the pain they caused him. His soul cried out with loneliness and sorrow. A weight too great to bear crushed him from all sides in the near-total darkness, broken only by the dot of light.

  If you are God, where were you when my father murdered my mother and sister? When my wife was killed? Why didn’t you protect my family? They believed in you. Where were you?

  I was with you all along.

  With me? What about them? They all died.

  Anguish surged through him.

  Death, as you know it, is only the beginning.

  Then give me death. Give me death, and take this pain away from me.

  There is more required of you in this world. It is not yet your time.

  What could God possibly need of me? I’m no one.

  Burke thought he heard a gentle laugh.

  I do not need you, my son. Your daughter does.

  My daughter?

  Yes.

  She’s alive? Sara’s alive?

  Burke sensed truth in the words. His daughter was alive and needed him. He could still feel the overwhelming presence, though not as strongly. The dot of light continued to hold him, and he knew that the light was life. The light was God and all that he offered. Only through the light would Burke be able to help Sara.

  Suddenly, Burke wanted to live. Wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything. His daughter was alive and needed him. He would not let her down again.

  Never again.

  Burke set his mind on the light. The darkness still swirled around him. Pain and torment tore through his being, but they had lost their power over him. He focused on the light now. The light was all that mattered. He willed himself toward it, and reached out with invisible fingers to grasp the life outside the darkness that had controlled him.

  Burke heard a low groan that quickly rose to a howl. For a moment, he thought he had fallen back into the agony, but those were not his cries. It was something else. Something in the darkness with him. Not death. Something that traveled with death. Something that did not want him to escape. Something that wanted him dead.

  The light grew brighter and bolder as he pulled himself toward it. Death continued to grasp at him, but it had weakened, losing its power to control him. The thought of his daughter, his Sara, gave him a strength he had long forgotten.

  I am with you, my son. Always.

  Burke felt time itself shudder at those words and, just like that, he knew them to be true. The God of the universe was in the midst of this madness with him, strengthening him in his battle. He had fought belief for so long, but the hope that now flooded his heart, the hope of a second chance with his daughter, broke the stone shell that covered his heart. He wanted to believe, wanted the life God offered him. His heart soared toward the light. He felt the darkness fall away—the pain, the sorrow, the heartache was nothing in the face of such loving power.

  Burke laughed like he had not laughed in years. He was still laughing when he tore off the last vestiges of death and crashed through the light.

  KATRINA FELT THE killer draw closer. Over the past couple of days, the room had become familiar to her, and she moved to its center. There she stopped and waited. She knew her time had come. The good Lord was calling her home. Her heart broke for Dave. He would take her death hard. She knew Dave had come to believe she was somehow stronger than the cancer, stronger than the death that had been awaiting her for so long. But she knew the truth. Most of the truth, at least. She had remained alive for one purpose—to get John Burke to this point in time. She knew the future of God’s children somehow depended on it.

  “You’re about to die, old woman.”

  The words had little effect on her. She knew her cancer had returned with a vengeance. She could feel it, like something eating her alive from the inside. One way or another, she would be with Jesus in the next few minutes.

  She smiled at the thought.

  Then pain sliced through her. Her hands clutched her abdomen, her fingers feeling warmth as her life flowed out over
them. So this was it then, she thought. But she had one more thing to do—one more task.

  “I…I forgive you,” Katrina gasped. And in that instant, she felt all pressure of responsibility slip from her.

  The last thing on Earth Katrina felt was a moment’s agony as something buried itself in her chest

  The light beckoned, and she let it draw her in.

  THE SERPENT EXALTED in his power as he brought the knife arching down. At the moment the blade penetrated her flesh, his head snapped back, and a shriek of pure agony ripped through his body. Then, something else screamed as well—something inside him, tearing him apart in its desperate effort to get out. Lord Denizen? The Serpent fell to his knees with his hands on his head, trying to keep it from exploding and plastering the rotting walls with his brains. He realized he was staring at the woman’s knees. For one awful moment, he feared she was going to pull the knife from her chest and slam it down in terrible retribution.

  The Serpent threw his head back again, the pain so great he could not even make a sound. A gagging noise sounded from his throat. Finally, he opened his eyes to see the woman glaring down at him. He scuttled back, away from the disease-ridden wretch, terrified she was coming after him.

  The Serpent felt another horrible rip in his mind. He felt it stretch as Denizen tore free with a piercing scream the Serpent knew must have been heard around the world. Then, the pain faded. But, in a terrifying moment, he knew his power was gone as well. He felt very small, very…normal. It had been so long since he’d felt so scared and alone.

  The Serpent scrambled to his feet and, without looking back, ran from the cabin.

  Sara clenched her teeth as the force of the blow ran up her arms. A loud clack echoed across the yard as her staff connected with her opponent’s, but she barely heard it. She was lost in the battle, aware of nothing but the figure dancing before her and the weapon that wanted to slam into her body. Two quick moves of her wrists, another two clacks. Forward, back. Attack, parry, anticipate, respond, and attack again. Sweat poured down her face as she blew away a strand of chestnut hair that had come loose from her ponytail. She felt almost invincible as she spun and leapt in the air, twirling her staff, bringing it down toward her opponent’s uplifted weapon. At the last moment, she changed direction and brought the butt end of the staff toward his unprotected groin.