The Nephilim Imperatives: Dark Sentences (The Second Coming Chronicles Book 2)

by Terry James

  Jenkins found little pleasure in the creature’s words, words that pierced far deeper than the mind’s ear. They were words that infiltrated, that pervaded, and seemed to want to explode every cell of one’s being.

  He could sit still no longer. He walked to Susie, bent to kiss her cheek, then snapped his fingers at Klaus.

  “Come here, boy!” His excited tone caused the Vizsla to hurry happily to his master’s side.

  “Can’t you be still for just five minutes?” Susie remarked, watching her husband kneel to rough up the dog’s fur, trying to provoke Klaus into snapping in play at him.

  “Wish he would call,” Christopher said, standing, placing his hands on his hips and stretching by leaning backward to relieve tension in his lower back.

  “He said the delay shouldn’t be too long,” Susie said.

  “Well, it’s already been too long. They were supposed to take off by 4:30. It’s almost 6 here…That would make it nearly 8 o’clock there,” he said, walking to the window to see the darkening evening sky above the distant plateaus and ridges of the Estrella range.

  “You wouldn’t want the pilots to do something dangerous, would you?”

  “Makes no difference what I want. The JFK people have delayed all flights until the thunderstorms have passed. Randy says only a couple of flights have been allowed out. It’s very unusual for that airport to shut down that long.”

  “Then it’s providence. Can’t you see that?” His wife’s matter-of-fact faith made Christopher smile –as it always did. He walked to her chair, extended his right hand to her, and when she took it, pulled her gently from the big recliner.

  He embraced Susie, her face turned against his chest and shoulder, while he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

  “You’re right, Sweetheart, of course. It is the Lord’s decision, not ours.”

  “We should try to get a little sleep,” she said. “Randy will call soon. We will need to be rested. It might be well into the morning before we can meet them at Phoenix International.”

  “He and I agreed that they should stop by to get us first, then fly to LAX to pick up Mark and Lori,” he said. “That seems a more efficient flight plan, according to the pilot.”

  Ten minutes later, Christopher, followed by Klaus, walked through the French doors to his study. He scanned the shelves of his many books but decided to pick up from his desk the most important volume to his life.

  It had been on his mind, probably since he first saw the thing that night in the torrential downpour near San Antonio--the dark, giant, man-like creature that slogged toward the picture window of his home. The other creature, bright, and sparking like lightning itself, the second creature had intercepted the beastly one. The resultant, electrifying light show had been blinding. Then, there had been nothing, just the horrendous rain, lit occasionally by brilliant flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm.

  Then the dreams he had heard time after time from Mark, Lori, their kids, Morgan and Clark. The dark creatures, like the ones Mark said Clark was investigating. Bigfoot, Yeti, Sasquatch –many other names for the creature that seemed more myth than reality. Yet they were, somehow, linked to the dark, smoke-like masses, to the creatures of clouds that were from…where? From the fallen supernatural world? From the world described in Ephesians?

  He thumbed through the old Bible which fell almost automatically open to the passage he was looking for. He read the words from the book of Ephesians, Chapter 6, verse 12, in a whisper:

  “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”

  He closed the Bible while he stood at the big window that gave view to the desert sunset. The thought troubled him. Why had Clark Lansing’s quest to learn about the creatures led to the Colorado governmental complex? Why had Clark’s sister’s job led her there? The creature her mother reported Morgan seeing on the pathway. A Bigfoot type creature? The description certainly seemed that of a Bigfoot, or Yeti, or whatever they were called, depending on the part of the world where they were reported.

  But, there were never any bones, hides, evidence that such beasts lived upon the planet.

  The thing had vanished, Morgan told her mother. What kind of creature –perhaps 8 feet tall—simply disappeared? Was it something the government was keeping secret? Why could they want such a creature? How could they make it just vanish into thin air?

  Perhaps they would find answers in Colorado--if they could ever leave New York, Phoenix, and LA.

  His thoughts kept prompting him to think more deeply. The U.S. government, the 8-foot creatures that seemed to be at the same time of physical matter and ethereal. They could make deep, 16-inch footprints in snow, or in the earth, yet could vanish to nothing. The things’ carcasses had never been found, yet sightings of them had been reported, even by witnesses whose reports were trusted, thus had credence.

  The government. What did governments do? They maintained treasury, monetary supply. Government gave governance to the people, maintained order in society, in culture. It provided for the common defense…

  Defense… Yes. That was the small spark of troubling thought behind it all. These things--could they somehow be used in a military way, if, indeed, they did exist, and the United States government…no doubt other governments chose to develop…to somehow bring them into being?

  All the other signals of the end were there: Israel was at the center of the end-of-days mix. Yes. Israel becoming the cup of trembling…the burdensome stone predicted by Zechariah the prophet. Israel, at the center of the war on terror, declared shortly after the 9-11 attacks in New York City and D.C.

  He and Randall Prouse had discussed it many times. Were these UFO things Jesus’ words beginning to come to pass? His prophecy that it will again be “As it was in the days of Noah…” at the time Christ comes again to earth?

  In “Noah’s Day,” the Bible told that the Benai Elohim –the fallen angels—looked at flesh and blood women on earth, and saw they were alluring. The minions of Satan –some of them—somehow, had sexual relations with the human women. From the unions were produced the Nephilim, the supernatural giants of the time. The beings from which, Randy believed, the legends of the Greek, Norse, and Roman gods were spawned. Hercules, Hera, Zeus, Thor, all the rest…

  Could these things be another visitation between Satan’s minions and human beings? Could these unions, in some way, produce an army for the human governments of the world?

  The thoughts came in rapid succession, culminating with his searching his memory for a specific prophecy of end-time things. He thought back through studies he had done, then combed several concordances he took from the shelves nestled against the four walls of the library.

  When he was satisfied he had found the object of his search, he quickly found the verses in the Old Testament book of Joel, chapter 2, and read in a whisper:

  “Blow ye the trumpet in Zion, and sound an alarm in my holy mountain: let all the inhabitants of the land tremble: for the day of the LORD cometh, for it is nigh at hand; A day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds and of thick darkness, as the morning spread upon the mountains: a great people and a strong; there hath not been ever the like, neither shall be any more after it, even to the years of many generations. A fire devoureth before them; and behind them a flame burneth: the land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness; yea, and nothing shall escape them. The appearance of them is as the appearance of horses; and as horsemen, so shall they run. Like the noise of chariots on the tops of mountains shall they leap, like the noise of a flame of fire that devoureth the stubble, as a strong people set in battle array. Before their face the people shall be much pained: all faces shall gather blackness. They shall run like mighty men; they shall climb the wall like men of war; and they shall march everyone on his ways, and they shall not break their ranks: Neither
shall one thrust another; they shall walk everyone in his path: and when they fall upon the sword, they shall not be wounded. They shall run to and fro in the city; they shall run upon the wall, they shall climb up upon the houses; they shall enter in at the windows like a thief.”

  Christopher slowly closed his Bible, his gaze trained into the now almost totally dark desert. This was a strange army the prophet Joel predicted for the last days. A very strange description of the troops, very strange, indeed…

  “Randy is on the cell!”

  Susie’s words disrupted her husband’s immersion in thought, and he turned to look at her.

  “He says they’ve been cleared to leave JFK!”

  Chapter 15

  Kristi Flannigan had never seen her city from just this angle, the lights of Manhattan sparkling like a diamond-encrusted piece of black velvet. The Criterion X climbed steeply over the Atlantic, turning at the same time back over the city, the pilot setting course for Phoenix International.

  Jeb Strubble pushed the throttles forward with ease, the 2 Rolls-Royce AE 3007C turbo fan engines pushing the four passengers and two crewmen back into the rich leather seats of the customized bird. The pilot watched the many colorful screens, their displays blazing with information that automatically set the plane on its pre-programmed course of flight.

  Strubble loved it, as did his co-pilot, Hamilton Lamb, who, himself, would be in the left front seat of just such a plane within three months, when his training was completed. Both men had nothing more to do than sip coffee and keep watch, yet they were far from bored. The aircraft was just too exciting in its every facet.

  The Criterion's engines were huge. Appended on each side of the fuselage at the back of the plane, they seemed almost as big around as the fuselage itself. They were simply the newest and most powerful, period. The airplane had the highest thrust-to-weight ratio of any corporate jet and was almost in the same realm as some of the fighter jets of days not too long ago, jets that both men had flown--Strubble in the U.S. Air Force and Lamb in the Navy. Even though the engines were powerful, their strength of thrust yielded a remarkably low specific fuel consumption. The corporate manager's dream --high speed efficiency and performance far better than anything in its class ever designed.

  It was the most aerodynamically advanced airplane available. Every contour had been precisely designed for luxurious, high-speed, high-altitude flight. You could only move up if you went to an F-22 Raptor, Strubble considered, sipping on the black liquid from the Styrofoam cup.

  Randall Prouse forced his eyes from the glorious view of the city out the large porthole window. He had a lot of reading and writing to do in the hours it would take to fly to Phoenix International. He wished he had taken the brief course the flight attendant had offered while still on the tarmac at JFK.

  He sat in the roomy seat that reminded him of a full-size recliner covered in luxuriantly soft leather. He counted eight of them in the elegantly appointed fuselage, whose high ceiling allowed even his grandson to walk upright. Wonderful electronics were at his fingertips--a computer with a 12-inch screen and wireless keyboard, telephone, Playstation portable gaming machine, all built right in either the arm rest or on the bulkhead.

  The attendant had complained after he asked if he could just please have a legal pad, that that request was what everyone always made, and she couldn’t understand why passengers didn’t want to avail themselves of the wonderful technologies. She was not much past her teenage years, and that was why she couldn’t understand, Randy mused, nonetheless wishing he had learned how to use the system.

  He glanced at Kristi Flannigan, who thumbed through a magazine, since the city and its magnificent view now receded into the distance behind. She sat in her own big recliner, seemingly lost in a story that had stopped her thumbing the pages.

  “Glad you could come with us,” Randy said from across the aisle.

  “Thanks for inviting me. It’s great getting off work for a while,” she said with a forced smile.

  Randy could tell something was bothering the girl, who looked at him, but seemed reluctant to say anything.

  “Something wrong?” he said.

  Kristi hesitated, but spoke after several seconds. “Not... wrong, ...actually,” she stammered. “It’s just that I’m worried about Morgan. It’s just not like her to completely cut herself off. She would have found some way to contact me, especially to contact her mom. Guess I’m wondering, too, what we can accomplish by going to Colorado. Oh, I’m glad you’re going, and that I can go--but, if it’s a secret government thing, or something, how can we find her?”

  “Good question. Can’t say I have any answers for you. But, if we don’t try, we for sure won’t find out anything,” he said.

  The answer seemed to satisfy her, and the set of her pretty eyes framed within her expression of agreement said she was accepting of the rationale.

  Four rows forward, just behind the cockpit, David Prouse put his right hand on top of Casandra Lincoln’s left hand. “Morgan is lucky to have such friends as you and Kristi,” he said.

  “Yeah, I think we are the lucky ones. I feel that I’m the lucky one, at least. Morgan is special.”

  “You three roommates?”

  “When I got sick, Morgan and I were apartment mates. Kristi lived with a couple of other girls. She moved in with Morgie, when I was…out of commission,” she said with a subdued laugh. “We were roommates back at UCLA. Well, off campus, near UCLA.”

  “Morgan, was she…is she somebody who is adventurous? I mean, could she put herself in harm’s way, just being caught up in the adventure?”

  “Oh, no. Not Morgan. She is one of the most…aware…people you’ll meet. And one of the most responsible. She would never allow herself –intentionally—to be cut off from her friends. And especially not from her mom and dad. That’s what’s got me so worried. This is so unlike her. I don’t know her brother, Clark. But, she says he is even more thoughtful when it comes to staying in touch with their parents, and, especially, he keeps up with his little sister. That always irritates her, in a teasing sort of way. She really loves Clark.”

  “She have any guys she was particularly interested in?”

  “Of course, we haven’t talked in several years. But, she was very…choosy…when it came to the guys. Her dad’s and Clark’s training, I think.”

  David was quiet for several seconds, then squeezed her hand slightly. “I’m sorry I ask so many questions, Cass…It’s part of my training…and being just plain nosey, I guess. That’s one reason lawyers are on the “least popular” lists, I think.”

  Casandra turned her hand palm up and grasped his fingers in a gentle touch. “I think you are the exception, then,” she said, looking at the handsome profile, while David glanced at her, then straight ahead.

  “Glad you think so,” he said.

  Training had prepared him for many things, but this was not one of them.

  Nigel Saxton moved into the increasingly cramped tunnel, Jeddy close on his heels.

  Had the old man known what he was talking about? The tunnel was getting smaller, and he had to bend his head forward uncomfortably to keep moving along the narrowing corridor within the mountain.

  Fortunately, the self-cranking light devised especially for him by M-7 was performing nicely. It more than adequately illuminated the areas ahead he needed to check out to make sure of safety for himself and the rottweiler.

  “At least you don’t have to walk doubled up, my friend,” Nigel said, forcing his head even lower, causing his shoulders to ache.

  And, the backpack was now impeding their progress, dragging at points along the tunnel’s ceiling. He unclasped the device at his chest and slid the straps over his arms.

  “Guess I’ll have to carry this along,” he said, holding the big pack by the straps and dragging it behind between him and Jeddy.

  “See what you’ve got yourself into, boy?” He said to the dog, who didn’t like the pack dragging in front o
f him.

  “We should be through before long. Zeke said it was less than eight kilometers. Seems like a hundred, eh, chap?”

  They had been moving for hours, sometimes the man having to squeeze through openings and force the backpack through openings that the dog could easily manage. They came to such a place, and Nigel went to his knees, placed the backpack in the hole, then forced it through the opening.

  “I hope Zeke knew what he was talking about,” Nigel said for the hundredth time since beginning the journey through the mountain.

  He crawled through the opening on his hands and knees. This was the smallest of the tight places yet, but he managed it with only a back-muscle cramp, caused by the awkward position he had to force his body into assuming.

  Once through, he moved farther along so the dog could negotiate the passage.

  He shined the bigger light the old man had provided and was gratified at what it revealed: a huge cavern, one that went beyond the beam’s powerful reach.

  “This is more like it. Indeed! This is very good, boy,” he said, patting Jeddy’s head before slipping the backpack straps onto his arms, then jumping the pack onto his shoulders.

  San Antonio, Texas - same hour

  Laura Morgan laughed beneath her breath, despite the pain from the rheumatoid arthritis that wracked her joints. The cats always made the pain more tolerable when the bouts of the disease flared.

  “Roy Luther,” she said in a playful tone, which, in her mind, the cat took as a loving one. “Don’t hurt Mrs. Hemingway,” she said, watching the gray and white male cat playfully attack the female cat she had so named because of its six toes on each foot. Ernest Hemingway was reputed to have been quite fond of his six-toed felines, the line which, she knew through news accounts, still made their home in the Hemingway house in Key West.