Cataclysm (Alternate Earth Series, Book One) (20 page)

“Would you care to see what’s inside it?” Allen asks, looking excited by the prospect of sharing such an experience with me.

“Yes,” I tell him. “I would.”

Allen tightens his hold on my hand as we begin to walk towards the five steps that lead from the nave of the temple to the elevated inner sanctum where the Ark stands. I’m faintly aware of everyone else following behind us, and become fully aware of trouble when I hear Angela scream.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I quickly turn around to find Angela being held captive by Asmodeus. He has one hand around the front of her throat, while holding her close to him with an arm tight around her slim waist. Mammon stands beside them, grinning cruelly at us all.

“My, my,” Mammon says, “you people from the Origin do seem to get around, even to places we didn’t know existed.”

“Angela!” Allen cries out, falling to his knees, as though the sight of his daughter in Asmodeus’ hands is draining him of life. “Please, please, I beg of you, don’t hurt her!”

“And here I thought you were pathetic before your mental breakdown,” Asmodeus says, tightening his grip around Angela’s throat, causing her to make small choking sounds. Though, I sense the motivation behind his action is to increase Allen’s mental anguish more than it’s meant to hurt Angela. “You bring disgrace to all of us with your madness, Allen!”

“Please,” Allen begs, “let her go. She is an innocent in all of this. I’m the one who sinned. I’m the one who should be punished, not her!”

“Oh, stop your groveling,” Mammon says to Allen in disgust. “You’re starting to make me feel nauseated. Now, if the rest of you would be so kind as to step away from the Ark, I’ll retrieve what we came for and we can all go our separate, merry little ways. If you try to stop me, Asmodeus will end this wretched girl’s life. It’s really quite simple.”

Without even having to discuss it, we do what Mammon asks as he strides up the steps to stand in front of the Ark.

Showing very little respect for the holy artifact in front of him, Mammon hooks an index finger underneath the folded wings of one of the cherubim and flings the cover off the Ark to look inside it. I watch as his brow creases in bewilderment and hear him curse under his breath, “Damn it; they’re not here.”

In anger, Mammon kicks the Ark back into the far wall, crushing it slightly from the force of the impact. He turns his back to us and walks down the steps.

“Kill the girl and let’s go,” Mammon says to Asmodeus, as if taking Angela’s life is just something he’s checking off a to-do list.

“No!” Allen screams as he hides his eyes with trembling hands, unable to face what has to be one of his worst nightmares come to life.

Before Asmodeus has a chance to crush Angela’s throat, I watch as a still- invisible Malcolm slams his fist squarely in the prince of Hell’s face. Asmodeus loses his grip on Angela. Before she has a chance to crumple to the floor, Daniel phases in and catches her, bringing her safely back to where we stand near the steps of the inner sanctum.

Malcolm takes advantage of having Asmodeus at his mercy, and kicks him so hard in the gut the prince of Hell flies straight up into the air. Before he hits the ceiling, Asmodeus phases out of the temple. Like the coward he is, Mammon does the same, leaving us to pick up the shattered pieces they’ve left behind.

“No, no, no, no, no…” I hear Allen say repeatedly as he hugs his knees up towards his chin. His eyes look completely blank as he rocks himself back and forth on the floor, resembling a mad man.

I turn to find Angela lying limp in Daniel’s arms.

“Is she alive?” I ask him, fearing the worst.

“Yes,” Daniel says, sounding worried, “but her breathing is shallow.”

“Take her back to the mine and ask for Rafe,” I tell him, knowing we need to heal her quickly before any irrevocable damage is done to either her or Allen.

“I’ll go with him,” Brand offers.

After they’re gone, I look at Allen and wonder how we’re ever going to drag him back to the real world after such a traumatic experience. The vacant look in his eyes tells me he might very well be lost to us forever. I look to Mason, but he just shakes his head at me, silently letting me know he’s not sure how to handle the situation either.

I feel an immense sense of guilt weigh heavily on my heart for dragging both Allen and Angela into a fight neither of them was equipped to handle. I disrupted their tranquil existence on the off chance that we could gain the upper hand against the princes. From Mammon’s reaction to what was inside the Ark, he didn’t find what he hoped to, and we are no closer to discovering what the princes are seeking.

Thankfully, Malcolm seems to decide on a course of action as he kneels down before Allen, but maintains his veil of invisibility.

“My son,” Malcolm says in a soft, yet commanding, voice as he lays his hand on top of Allen’s head, “your daughter is still alive.”

I know what Malcolm is attempting. He’s trying to mimic what God might say and do to bring Allen some much needed comfort. Yet, I fear not even God Himself could bring Allen out of his state of shock.

“No, no, no, no, no…”Allen continues to say, shaking his head. “ She’s dead. She’s dead. That devil took her away from me. She’s dead.”

“Baraqel,” Malcolm says, trying to draw Allen’s attention once more. I can only assume he’s addressing him by his angelic name. “Has it been so long that you do not trust my words anymore? Have I ever lied to you?”

Allen stops rocking. Malcolm’s questions have at least made him start thinking again.

“No,” Allen whispers, “You have never lied to me. You’ve always been honest, even in your warnings. Father… I couldn’t help falling in love. I couldn’t stop myself from loving Angela’s mother.”

“I know, Baraqel,” Malcolm says, knowing from personal experience just how difficult it was for all of the Watchers on Earth. “That time has passed, My son. You must go on and live the life you have chosen. Angela needs you by her side.”

Allen shakes his head, his face contorted by misery. “But she’s gone,” he cries. “She’s gone forever!”

Malcolm looks up at me, the pain he feels for Allen clearly written on his face. He’s done all he can think of to help soothe Allen. We both know there’s only one way Allen will ever regain what little control he had over his mind.

I turn to Mason. “Angela needs to come back as soon as possible. She’s the only one who can get through to him.”

Mason nods and phases, presumably back to the mine.

Malcolm continues to caress Allen’s head, almost akin to someone consoling a lost child who needs comforting.

We wait for what seems like forever, but Mason finally returns, with Angela by his side. Daniel and Brand phase in along with them.

Angela quickly goes to her father and wraps her arms around his shoulders.

“I’m here,” she tells him, openly crying. I feel certain she fears the worst, that she’s lost her father to his own madness forever.

“I’m here, Father,” she says again, kissing him on his forehead as she cups his face in her hands, forcing him to raise his eyes and focus on her. “I’m here.”

It takes a while, but Allen’s eyes finally find his daughter, and life appears in them once more. He throws his arms around her, holding her tight.

“I thought I lost you,” he cries in unexpected relief. “I thought you were dead.”

“I could never leave you,” she tells him, as though such a notion is beyond comprehension. “We’ll always be together.”

“Always,” Allen says as a promise.

Angela gives her father a moment to recover before leaning back from him and sitting on the floor of the temple.

“Lay your head on my lap and let me sing you your favorite song,” she tells him. “That always helps.”

Without question, Allen lays his head down as instructed and closes his eyes. As Angela begins to sing a song I don’t recognize, but find beautiful, I fully understand that their roles have been completely reversed. Angela has taken on the responsibility of caretaker, while her father is allowed to live in his dream worlds where he feels safest. I realize that this Angela isn’t much different from the one I respect and love in our reality. She’s still wonderful, loving, and devoted to the care of her father, a man broken by his own decisions and their consequences.

After a while, Allen appears to have fallen asleep. It’s only then that Angela stops singing and looks up at us.

“Daniel,” she whispers, “can you take us back to the treehouse on that island? I think it might be better if he wakes up there. Then I can just tell him everything he remembers was a dream.” Angela looks at me. “I don’t think he could take losing you a second time. I know you’re not my real mother, but in his mind you are. It would be better for him to never see you again while you’re here.”

“I understand,” I say. “I’m so sorry for the trouble we caused you. It never even occurred to me that they were watching us so closely. I’m not even sure how they knew we went to see you.”

“Well, we can’t go back to the cottage,” Angela says with certainty, “at least not for a long, long time. I wish you the best of luck here, but I’m afraid I can’t help you anymore. I need to take care of my father,” she says, looking at Allen with a weight of responsibility only someone who truly loves another can have. “He needs me.”

“Thank you for everything that you did for us,” I tell her.

Daniel rests his hand on Angela’s shoulder and phases them away.

I stare at the empty space for a moment, letting the maelstrom of my mixed emotions settle on just one: unmitigated anger.

“How the
hell
did they find us?” I storm, allowing my rage to take control, even though it doesn’t have a direct target. “Who would have told them where we would be, and why we were going there?”

I notice Brand cross his arms over his chest and stare at the floor. I can tell he’s thinking through the possibilities of an answer to my question, but not voicing his thoughts. I watch as he closes his eyes for a second as if he’s hit upon the answer.

“Would you like to share with the rest of the class?” I ask him sharply “Who was it?” I demand, staring at Brand until he looks back up at me.

“I don’t know for sure,” Brand replies, in a voice meant to ease my rage with its irritating calmness. “There were very few people who knew where we would be and when.”

“Who was it?” I scream at him, my hands tightening into fists as I imagine ripping out the traitor’s heart and dropping it into a bottomless pit.

Brand glances in Malcolm’s direction, letting me know my friend is no longer invisible. In that one unconscious movement, Brand answers my question without even having to say the name.

“Xavier?” I ask in disbelief. “He’s the one you think betrayed us? I thought you said he could be trusted!”

“Jess, you need to calm down,” Brand says in a relaxed voice. “I know you’re upset, but I would ask that you not jump to any hasty conclusions. Sometimes Xavier has to divulge some information about our movements so they don’t suspect he’s colluding with us.”

“I don’t care what his reasons might have been. He should have never knowingly placed Allen and Angela’s lives in danger. They trusted us, and look what happened!”

“Jess,” Brand says, remaining a force of complete composure in the face of my wrath, “I understand your anger. Trust me; I’m not happy about it either, but I suggest we get his side of the story first before we condemn him as a traitor. It could be that he thought there wasn’t another option left open to him. During the past few years, he’s proven himself trustworthy to our cause. He’s playing a dangerous game, trying to keep Lucian at bay and providing us with the information we need.”

“I can appreciate the difficulty he faces,” I begrudgingly admit, “but it doesn’t mean I have to approve of his methods. We could have led them straight to what they’re searching for.”

“It was a calculated risk,” Brand says, dropping his arms and looking over at the damaged Ark of the Covenant. He walks up to it and looks inside.

“The tablets are in here,” he tells us. “Obviously, those aren’t what they are searching for.”

I remember what Mammon said when he looked inside the Ark. Suddenly, I realize, “They’re not looking for just one thing. Mammon said ‘they’re not in here’, not ‘it’s not in here’.”

“Unfortunately, that doesn’t help us a lot,” Brand says, walking away from the Ark to rejoin us. “We’re basically back where we started.”

“We need more information,” I say, feeling frustrated. “Otherwise, we’ll just keep chasing leads that go nowhere. I think we need to stop worrying about what it is they’re searching for, and focus our efforts on something we can actually succeed in doing. We need to find a way to use the dagger we brought on Gabriel and prevent any more of the seals from being opened.”

“Agreed,” Mason says. “At least that’s something we can plan for and control.”

“I’ve already told Xavier and Ava to let us know when an opportunity presents itself to corner Gabriel,” Brand says.

An image of the elegant Ava Carlyle flits through my mind. She was the first female Watcher I encountered in this reality. Her child, Mia, was the one who snatched me out of the sky when I escaped the princes, surprising me with yet another difference between our Earth and this one.

“Why her?” I ask. “How is Ava privy to the princes’ plans?”

“Her husband, Micah, is part of the Watcher inner circle the princes keep close around them,” Brand explains. “She hears things and sends us any information she deems useful to our cause.”

“So it doesn’t sound as though there’s much that we can do until we’re provided with an opening,” Malcolm says in disappointment.