Last Days Trilogy

by Jacqueline Druga

  As he stepped off the final rung of the hatch ladder, he tossed his shotgun into his room and proceeded down the hall. Eliza’s door was ajar and Kyle saw her sitting on the bed.

  He knocked and pushed the door open. “Dinner.”

  “Not now, Kyle, thanks. Maybe I’ll get some later.”

  Kyle frowned and invited himself in. “You haven’t joined us since Michael came, Eliza. Don’t you like him?”

  Eliza turned to Kyle and rolled her eyes. “You know better.”

  “It’s Aunt Rose, isn’t it?”

  She turned away.

  “Eliza,” he said. “I know you’re devastated. We all are. We loved George and Janice and Kathleen very much. But if you don’t eat, you’ll waste away. We don’t want to mourn you, too. Keep up your strength, please.”

  “It’s not food. I just don’t want to be in the same room as…”

  “Did I ever tell you,” Kyle interrupted her, “how devastated I was when Lil left me?”

  Eliza frowned. “Why are you bringing her up now?”

  “I bring her up a lot. I told Michael the Lil birthing story today.” He sighed. “I was crushed when she took off. It may not have shown, but I was dying inside. And I’m still proud I never resented Reggie for it.”

  “Why on earth would you blame Reggie? She was a child.”

  “My child. Always,” Kyle stated. “But Reggie was the reason Lil left me. She didn’t like Reggie. Didn’t want to be her mother. Imagine that. Imagine how I felt when Lil said, ‘Kyle, I just have no feelings for her.’ A mother not feeling for her own kid. You know, Eliza, they’re our children. Big or small, young or old, they’re ours. Hating them is wrong.”

  Eliza nodded slowly, arms folded. “The Kyle Stevens runaround. Making his point in his roundabout way.”

  “I’m trying.” Kyle took in a breath. “But you’re not.”

  “How can I, Kyle? Tell me. My family’s gone because of him.”

  “Did he do it?”

  “He might as well have.”

  Kyle shook his head. “That makes no sense.”

  “He created the antichrist that’s bringing this world down.”

  “Bullshit,” Kyle snapped, then gentled his tone. “He created a clone. That goddamned antichrist came in all on his own. Not on your son’s account. Granted, Marcus dabbled in something a little, well, maybe hugely controversial. But that’s Marcus, your son. Always has been. It’s our Marcus, the one who has a mountain of brains but only a thimbleful of good old common sense. The Marcus we love. Make sense? He was given a gift some can only dream of. And this gift, this intelligence was so natural and innocent to him; he never saw anything wrong with using it,” Kyle paused. “Remember when your dad died? Marcus was what, thirteen? He got on that ‘defeat of death’ kick. Remember?”

  Eliza cracked a smile. “Oh boy, do I ever.”

  “Yeah, and we all supported him.” Kyle snickered, “‘Go on, kid,’ we’d all say, ‘if you can defeat death, do it.’ Remember his claims about cell regeneration or something? Hell, who knows, maybe the kid was right.”

  Eliza chuckled.

  “We laughed then,” Kyle nodded. “But we didn’t laugh when we found out he was carbon-monoxiding cats, dogs, and rabbits... and then reviving them. Dr. Doolittle of death that boy was. Nearly got thrown in juvenile hall.”

  “Yes, Kyle, yes I see. But now it’s much worse. Much bigger.”

  “Uh uh, it’s the same thing. Marcus was thinking only of how mankind would benefit from his experiments. As usual he didn’t consider the consequences.”

  “Still, Kyle,” said Eliza. “I’m having a hard time with this. With Marcus.”

  “I understand. You don’t have to go downstairs and tell Marcus you’re over it. Just think. I love Marcus, too, Eliza, he’s hurting. And Reg is trying, she loves the guy, too, but this Archangel has her tied in knots. Marcus needs your support... sometime. He just needs to know you still love him, and he still has you.”

  Eliza got up and paced, then turned to Kyle. “Okay, I’ll think about it. But I will have to pass on dinner. I want to be alone right now. Thinking time, not hating time.”

  Kyle nodded at the door, sniffing the air. “Smells like Herbie cooked. Don’t know what you’re missing, Eliza. Hell of a boy, Herbie. No offense, Eliza, but Reg is missing the boat.”

  “Certainly is a catch.”

  “Pounds the hell out of a dent, can hunt and disembowel a small animal without batting an eye. That’s a husband.” Kyle looked back at Eliza with a smile. “Have a good time… thinking.”

  Eliza nodded, then sank back on the bed, a quiet smile on her face.

  Goodsprings, Nevada

  “So, like...” Todd swallowed the bread he was chewing. “...if you were dying tomorrow, would this be our last supper?” He laughed and grabbed the bottle of beer.

  Devante did not laugh. He shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. “I do not like when you consume the bitter wine of those bottles. You get intoxicated easily.”

  “Yeah, so?” Todd finished off the bottle. “It’s fun.”

  “It is weak. Letting something else control your mind.” Devante looked around the tent. “Where is Chad? Doesn’t he want to eat with us?”

  “He’s working the crowd,” Todd said, and then corrected himself. “I mean, talking on your behalf. Gathering soldiers.”

  “That is good. He is a hard worker.” Devante directed the comment to the other two men in the tent.

  “He’s an ass-kisser. Does whatever you want, whether he wants to or not. Ass-kisser.”

  “The best kind of worker. You should learn from him,” Devante said.

  “Yeah, right.” Todd snickered at Devante’s glare. “I work hard, but only so hard.”

  “Perhaps that is why your art never acquired you fame.”

  “Aw, dude, low blow. Unfair.” Todd shook his head. “Let me ask you a question, big guy. When do we start stockpiling weapons for this army we’re building? They’ll need arms against this ‘small but strong’ force you keep going on about, so we have to be ready.”

  “I’ll train them.” Devante nodded.

  “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

  “A gun? No. We will use swords like our enemy.”

  Todd laughed. “Swords. Probably bows and arrows, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” Todd corrected. “Why, dude?” he asked. “Will they use swords against us?”

  “The spirit of my believers cannot be killed with conventional weapons.”

  “Can the spirit of our enemies be killed with conventional weapons?”

  “Yes.”

  Todd’s eyes bugged out and he laughed. “Oh, man, then we’ll wipe them out. We’ll just take them apart.”

  “Your so-called conventional weapons will do that?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “Unfair. I like it already.” Devante smiled. “When I assemble my army, I will appoint you my general. Though my army will know the sword, I want you to find me these weapons.”

  “Master,” Chad called, his head poking through the tent flap.

  Devante looked over fondly. “What is it?”

  “You may enjoy this,” Chad said, opening the flap wider to let a tiny girl, about eight, walk in. She had long brown hair and wore a bold expression.

  Devante frowned. His attitude toward children was common knowledge. Their innocence was anathema to him. They annoyed him. “Yes, little girl?”

  “Her name is Emily,” Chad said.

  Devante cringed. “What?”

  “Tell him,” Chad said, leading her in. “Master, she wishes to tell you something.” He rubbed her shoulder. “Go on, Emily.”

  Very softly she spoke as she looked to Devante. “It’s about my mom and dad.” She hesitated. “They say you’re bad and they want to run away. They want to join a group to... to kill you.”

  Devante’s face changed in an instant from annoyance to appreciation. He app
roached the little girl and laid his hand on her cheek. “My dear sweet Emily. You have done good, telling me this. God will shine on you for this. Here, sit with Todd while I speak to Chad.” He led the girl back to where Todd was opening another bottle of beer, then walked to the entrance of the tent with Chad.

  “I knew you’d appreciate her,” Chad said.

  “Very much so. Thank you,” Devante whispered. “And it’s given me an idea. I must speak more to the children. But first... take me to her parents.”

  “This way.” Chad opened the flap and walked out.

  Devante looked back at Emily, smiled, and then followed.

  A few yards beyond the tent, Devante froze.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Devante gazed up to the heavens. Then, with the most sinister of smiles, he slowly lowered his head to Chad.

  “Nothing is wrong. It has begun.” he proclaimed. “The prophecy will soon be fulfilled. It is our assurance of another new beginning.” Devante moved on. “Their end.”

  Seville, Ohio

  Seth sat on the counter stool, chin on hands, watching his mother. His fingers pressed against his cheeks hard, distorting his face. “Mom, no, I can’t. It’s green.”

  “Seth, yes. Eat it. Food is hard to come by. Herbie and Aunt Rose cooked.” Reggie jumped and turned. Marcus had snuck up and kissed her.

  Marcus was smiling. “Aunt Rose is wonderful.” He kissed Reggie again and left his lips near her ear. “I’ll see if I can get her to distract Michael for us tonight.”

  Reggie giggled. “What, Seth?”

  “Why does Aunt Rose need to distract Michael?” Seth asked.

  “Not distracting, attacking. Keep Michael on his warrior toes.”

  Kyle walked in. “Reg? You’re alone? Where’s your bodyguard?”

  “Enjoying the bathroom,” Reggie replied. “He likes it in there.”

  “Hey, at least he’s potty-trained. Your average drunk takes time.” Kyle chuckled as Michael appeared at the door. “Speak of the devil.”

  Michael gasped. “Kyle, please. Hey, Seth. Hey, Marcus.”

  Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Did he just say ‘Hey’?”

  Kyle washed up at the sink as everyone took seats at the dinner table.

  Finally, Kyle joined them and said to Michael, “Herbie and I are worried about his Aunt Marybeth. You said you would tell us where the prisons are.”

  “I will,” said Michael. “But I cannot do so in haste.”

  “Michael, they’re killing Catholics. She’s Catholic. Get it?”

  “The prisons are well-fortified and filled with traitors who believe in Devante. If we free one, we must free all. And if we do that before Devante takes his people from the prisons, we open a door for a deceiver to enter this camp. A deceiver amongst us can let other deceivers in. We have to be careful. Do I make sense?”

  “To me you’re loud and clear,” Kyle shrugged. “I can’t speak for Marybeth. How much time are we talking about?”

  “Not much longer. A few days,” Michael said. “I fear the bombs that will be waylaid will work in favor of Devante. More people will believe in him. His army will grow. We will need a force of our own to break into the prisons. Once we do, we will have dedicated soldiers.”

  “I’ve been picking up signals on the radio from underground groups,” said Kyle. “You know, folks in hiding, dedicated to fighting Devante. What about them?”

  Michael shook his head. “No. If they hide, how strong of will are they? We need those like you who do not hide. And we will find them as soon as I feel Reggie is ready to teach them with me. And then, Kyle, you, Herbie and Marcus will train as well.

  “How is the training going?” Kyle asked.

  “Very good.” Michael nodded. “Tomorrow we begin training with weapons. We will use the swords Marcus and Herbie made.” He looked at Marcus. “Soon our soldiers will make their own, and then they will pull them from the ground. Without your help, Marcus, we could not have started. Thank you, Marcus, you are a jerk.”

  Marcus’ eyes widened. Reggie burst out laughing. “What the hell are you teaching him now, Reggie?”

  “She teaches me much,” Michael said proudly. “Reggie is a good teacher. We had a great day, did we not, Reggie? A rough beginning, but a fine ending. We trained today. Reggie taught me how to communicate. She also taught me how to know when I am feeling happy, sad, angry, and guilty. It is a useful knowledge tool. It made me happy to know it.”

  Kyle meanwhile watched faces. Reggie seemed in her own world and Marcus wanted to hide in different world. Smiling, Kyle commented. “Looks like working with Reggie makes you... happy,” he watched as Marcus slammed his glass on the table. Kyle continued the taunt, “Very happy.”

  “He smiled today, Daddy,” Reggie commented.

  “Really? How nice. When?” Kyle was syrupy in his sarcasm. A grunt escaped Marcus.

  “It was when we flew,” Michael answered. “Reggie liked that. I liked that she enjoyed it. I felt her heart when we were pressed together.”

  Kyle hid a smile in his hand as he watched Marcus tearing into his meat, picking it up and gnawing at it in quick bites. “You don’t say,” Kyle smiled.

  “I do say,” Michael said. “Amazing. But I have to tell you…” He looked proudly at Reggie. “Kyle, you have taught your daughter well. Though the flying was... what is that word, yes, fun, my favorite part was when we were physical. I was not ready. But I went down for the first time...”

  It was Reggie’s turn to fight down her snicker. Marcus glared.

  Michael continued blithely. “And it was a new experience for me. No one has brought me, how do you say, to my knees? But I enjoyed it. I hope tomorrow to bring Reggie to her knees. Gently of course. I think she will enjoy that experience as well.”

  Marcus inhaled, then coughed to cover it up, but the violence of his cough left him wheezing and gasping for air.

  Aunt Rose smiled widely. “Sounds like fun training to me.”

  Marcus gripped the table and began turning blue.

  “You okay?” Reggie asked him.

  Marcus shook his head. Reggie reached over and banged on his back.

  “Dad, I think he’s choking. Are you choking, Marcus?” Reggie banged again.

  Marcus nodded. Reggie hit him harder.

  “Hit lower, Reg,” Kyle instructed.

  “Why does she strike him?” Michael asked.

  “He’s choking,” Kyle answered.

  Marcus’ eyes grew wide and he slammed his hand on the table, jumped up and raced to the sink, throwing himself into the edge.

  “Marcus?” Reggie stood up. “Are you throwing up?”

  An explosive choke and cough expelled the food lodged in his throat. He turned on the water, took a breath and splashed his face. He turned around, disgusted. “The Heimlich maneuver. Don’t any of you people know the Heimlich maneuver!” he shouted. “I could have died. You beat the hell out of me, Reg.”

  Reggie backed up. “I was trying to help you.”

  Marcus held up his hand. “There’s a technique for that. You, of all people, should know it.”

  “I do.” Reggie sat down. “I just wasn’t thinking at the moment.”

  “Reggie,” Michael called out. “Perhaps you and I can work on that. Thinking quickly. I will throw situations your way.”

  “Sounds good,” said Reggie.

  “Sounds good.” Marcus mocked her in a soft high voice.

  Reggie turned. “What was that, Marcus?” she asked. “Can you be any more immature?”

  “What are you talking about?” Marcus asked.

  “You mocked me.”

  “I did not.”

  “You did too.”

  “Well, Reg, I’m mad. Can you blame me?” Marcus snapped. “You’re so wrapped up in your... your angel that I could be dying before your eyes and you couldn’t care less.”

  “Oh,” Reggie flung out her hand, “that’s ridiculous.”

  “I was cho
king!”

  “You’re fine now.”

  Marcus lifted his hands. “I’m not fighting with you. I don’t want to.”

  “Yes, Marcus,” Michael spoke up, “you do not want to fight. She is tough. She will bring you to your knees.”

  “Well, better me than you, pal.” Marcus nodded and reached for his tea.

  Reggie gasped. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Marcus.”

  “Me?” Marcus shot back. “Who was snickering whenever he...”

  Michael’s chair let out a sudden squeal, and he was almost immediately on his feet, darting across the kitchen and out the back door.

  Puzzled, everyone jumped up and followed. When they got outside, they saw Michael running, at ten yards away. He turned and raced back toward the house. Then, as if jumping a hurdle, he leapt up, grabbed the roof edge and climbed up.

  “Reggie,” he called. “Can you come up here?”

  Reggie looked at her father, then Marcus, and followed, scaling the back porch. Michael’s hand pulled her onto the roof.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  With a serious expression, Michael stared out, grabbed Reggie’s shoulders and turned her body. “East.”

  “What about it?” Reggie asked.

  “Man’s weapons. Man’s own fire from the sky has been released.”

  “Oh, shit.” Her eyes widened with horror.

  “Do not fear. We are safe. However,” Michael lowered his head, “two million of God’s faithful people have just died.” He lifted his eyes sadly. “Jerusalem... burns.”

  <><><><>

  PURGE

  Book Three

  “At that time Michael, the Archangel who stands guard over your nation, will arise. This will be a time of anguish greater than any since nations first came into existence. But at that time, every one named in the book will be rescued.”

  —Daniel 12:1

  PREFACE

  “There is always a beginning...”

  The purest of skin had turned vile, drained of innocence. A hue took over his complexion, an outward reflection of his being and objective. All of it... dark.