The War in Heaven (19 page)

Bedillia stumbled barefoot up the rocky trail, following the grim procession. After just three minutes the bleeding had stopped, and the terrible itching that was part and parcel of the healing process had begun. The hairy
demon still walked by her side, observing her closely, yet he hadn’t said anything until now.

“So, yer a bleeder” he observed, turning to her, eyeing her over carefully. “Rarely do I see so much blood coming from one of your kind. This place, this ordeal, wrings it out of yer kind pretty quickly. Why is there so much in you? You must be one of the new ones. Is that not so?”

Bedillia didn’t respond. She kept her head down, hoping that this beast would tire of her and leave.

“Answer me when I talk to you, wench!” he growled angrily, digging his claws into her shoulder, then shoving her dislocated arm roughly back into its socket.

The pain was tremendous, yet she held her peace. “Yes,” said Bedillia, “I’m new.”

“Yes, master,” corrected the demon. “You’d best be watching your manners, little girl.”

“Yes, master,” replied Bedillia.

“I don’t remember you arriving,” said the demon. “Strange…not many details miss my eyes. Nonetheless, I don’t think you realize just how easy you got off back there. There are hundreds of places like this throughout Hell, places for the likes of you and your unnatural sexual appetite. I’ll tell you now, most of ’em are far worse than this. Most are much hotter. You don’t know what real heat is until you end up at the Plunge of Desolation in Xarin. The ground there could nearly boil water, if there were water. Then there is the Valley of Krull. They shackle both your ankles and your wrists there, and the rocks at the bottom of the cliff are rough and jagged, not smooth and round like ours. You don’t realize how good you got it.”

“I’m very grateful for your mercy, master,” replied Bedillia.

“That’s better,” said the demon, a hideous smile coming to his face. “I shall help you get acquainted with our procedures. I am called Drelleth, Master Drelleth to you. And what is your name, human child?

There it was. What was she to do now, lie? “My name is Bedillia, Bedillia Smith.”

Drelleth’s smile grew even wider. “Very well then, Bedillia Smith, now we are acquainted. From now on, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Yes, Master Drelleth,” said Bedillia, lowering her head once more. “I appreciate your concern. I’ll do better in the future.”

“I’m sure you will,” said Drelleth.

Several minutes passed before Joan spoke. “Why did you do this to me? What did I ever do to you?”

“I take it that he is gone,” said Bedillia, almost under her breath.

“Yes,” confirmed Joan.

“I’m still going to get you out of here,” said Bedillia.

“You’ve done enough to me already,” replied Joan, in an angry voice.

Bedillia wasn’t going to argue with Joan, not now. She knew help was on the way, and when it arrived, she’d grab Joan, and they would be out of there, one way or the other. But when would it come? Would she end up making the plunge? The thought caused a chill down her spine. She had spent years amid the flames of that hot furnace. Surely this wasn’t going to be nearly as bad as that. But she wasn’t ready, not now.

They were making their way up the side of the canyon through a series of switchbacks toward the top of the ridge. It wasn’t very steep, but the shackles and bare feet on sharp rocks made the going difficult. The trail was well-worn here by who knew how many feet over the centuries.

“How much farther is it?” asked Bedillia.

“You don’t know?” said Joan.

“I’ve never been here before,” replied Bedillia.

“Would the two of you just shut up,” said a man behind them. “You’ll bring them down on us.”

“Maybe twenty-five minutes,” replied Joan, “I know every rock of this place. You’ll see it coming a long way off. The ridge flattens out there. You can see the people ahead of you disappearing over the cliff. I’m terrified every time I see it. I don’t deserve this place. I was a good person, really.”

“And you are getting out,” said Bedillia. “I promise you.”

“Are you mad, woman?”

Bedillia looked around to see the dark, sad-eyed man behind her. “No, I’m not mad. If you want, I can take you too.”

“I saw you and the others among the boulders,” he said. “I have been here for many years. I know almost everyone here, but I’ve never seen you before.”

Bedillia knew enough not to give out too much information, but right now she didn’t care. “That’s because I have never been here before. This is my first trip up this trail.”

“They haven’t brought anyone new in here in almost a year … I know, I remember.”

“They didn’t bring me in here, I came here of my own free will…on a rescue mission. My friends have already taken one from this place, and we can take more,” said Bedillia.

There was a long pause before the man spoke again. “I have much to answer for in my life. That is why I’m here, I’m no saint. I knew the message of Christ; I even preached it, but it didn’t take hold in my heart. If I only had another chance, I’d change…I swear I would. I’d make up for all the things I did.” Again there was a pause. “Please, if you can do what you say, take me with you, I beg you.”

“Then you’re coming with me,” promised Bedillia. “Stay close, and when I give you the word, follow.”

“I will,” said the man.

“This is madness,” said Joan.

“Just keep your eyes open,” said Bedillia. “When the time comes, you will know what to do.”

“Can I come too?” asked the woman directly behind the dark man.

“Just stay close,” said Bedillia.

They arrived at the top of the gently sloping ridge. The well-worn trail followed the slowly rising crest of the ridge for some distance then crossed onto a flat stretch of land beyond. In the distance, Bedillia saw a grouping of demons. Here, the procession seemed to break up and vanish.

“That’s it,” said Joan, “the plunge. There is no way we’re going to get rescued between here and there, is there?”

Bedillia didn’t know what to say. She could only imagine what was going on back at Refuge. She was confident that they were planning a rescue, but not here. She would have to take the plunge. “I very much doubt it. Hold on, just this one last time.”

“I’ve faced it often enough,” said Joan. “My body is completely healed. I have about ten minutes before my pain begins all over again.”

Bedillia looked at her arm. It was covered with dry blood, but it was otherwise whole. Then she thought,
Suppose my shackles spring open when I hit the ground at the bottom of the cliff?
It was a very real possibility. The demons would surely realize something was wrong. They might suspect something already. Somehow she had to protect them on impact. What an insane concept, but she had to do it. She prayed for strength, for the courage to face what was ahead.

“Bedillia is approaching the cliff,” announced Dr. Kepler. “She is a very brave woman. I think you need to make provisions to retrieve more lost souls. Bedillia wants to assist some of those around her.”

“Very well,” replied Abaddon, “we will make room for them.”

Abaddon glanced at the now full ring room. Kurt had 12 armed marines suited in battle gear that looked very much like the battle armor worn by contemporary soldiers. Lenar also had a dozen dark angels ready for battle, and hundreds of Abaddon’s tiny winged children had gathered on the walls, awaiting their orders.

Tom had never seen the likes of this. He turned to Bill. “Where did the uniforms and the battle gear come from?”

“I made some of it,” replied Bill. “I’m not as good as you are with that machine, but I do have some abilities. Interestingly enough, so does Kurt and about half a dozen others. They just don’t possess your level of skill. They use two less sophisticated versions of the machine to manufacture such things as daggers, clothing, and body armor…that is, by the way, several times more resilient than that used by the U.S. military.”

A hasty battle plan was drawn up. Now it all depended on what happened when Bedillia hit the ground. If only they could help her before she took the plunge, but they didn’t dare.

The edge of the cliff grew ever closer, and the cries and weeping of those around Bedillia increased. Some even prayed, though they must have realized that it did no good, not here. There were four demons standing near the threshold—more than enough to handle the multitude of shackled and defeated humans in their charge.

The line was vanishing as one by one, the poor damned souls threw themselves from the precipice. Most of the ragtag multitude stepped off the cliff without being coerced by the demons, beyond their endless cruel taunting. It appeared to be a conditioned response, the result of years of intimidation, retaliation, and hopelessness. To hesitate more than a few seconds at the threshold was to invite the wrath of the masters. Consequently, the line moved smoothly.

“It’s better if you try to land on your feet,” said the man behind Bedillia. “Try to absorb as much of the impact as you can with your legs. Your legs will be shattered like you can’t imagine, but you might come out of this with your arms and neck unbroken. That way you’ll be able to drag your body away from the cliff more quickly. The demons won’t whip you as much if you get moving quickly after you hit the bottom. Landing on your stomach isn’t as good. It breaks your ribs up real bad, messes up your innards too. It’s particularly bad for you women, if you get my meaning. Never land on your back, side, or head; that’s the worst. You might end up paralyzed for ten minutes or more. Then the demons will have to drag you away from the cliff themselves. They don’t like to do that. Trust me, they’ll take it out on you later. And don’t hesitate at the edge, push outward if you can. That way you’ll land a bit farther away from the cliff … be less likely to hit rocks on the way down, and have less distance to pull yourself to get out of the way of others.”

“Thank you,” replied Bedillia. “I’ll remember that.” “Please remember me when the time comes,” continued the dark-skinned man. “My name is Leland.” “I will,” replied Bedillia, “I promise.”

Bedillia was drawing closer to the front of the line. Though it must have been over 90 degrees up there, she was shaking. She wasn’t ready for this. If only Abaddon would come and rescue her, yet she knew that he couldn’t, not here.

How should she make the plunge? Going feet first was out of the question unfortunately. The pin in the shackles would most assuredly be triggered, and her deception would be discovered. Going belly first seemed the only option, though that didn’t seem too appealing either. “God give me strength and wisdom,” she murmured, “in the name of Jesus.”

She could see the edge clearly now. It was a sharp rocky drop-off. The cliff beyond seemed nearly vertical, at least from here. She could see all the way across the valley—magnificent desolation. There were three people ahead of her, then two. Then Joan took the plunge. It was Bedillia’s turn. She felt sick to her stomach. She was looking straight down at the carnage below; then she was airborne.

She felt the wind growing stronger, saw the cliff face passing her even more swiftly. She was tumbling; she had to gain control. She stretched out her arms…her spin stopped. She would try to hit belly first if she could. The ground was coming up so fast. There were so many twisted and broken bodies. She prayed that she would neither hit a large boulder of which there were many, nor another damned soul of which there were even more. She took a deep breath.

The impact was violent and traumatic but it paled in comparison to the resulting tremendous pain. She had hit the ground on her belly. She had missed the boulders and impacted on a stretch of level hard soil mixed with small rocks. She couldn’t breathe, she was suffocating, yet she was incapable of passing out.

She tried to move her right arm; the attempt was accompanied by a horrible sickening pain. It was broken in several places. One bone, the radius, appeared to have shattered in two and the tip had penetrated her skin.

She tried to move her left arm; it worked, although it was badly lacerated and bleeding. But what was the condition of her legs, and more importantly, what about her shackles? She could feel her legs; her back wasn’t broken. She looked around and saw at least seven or eight demons, though none had
taken any particular interest in her. She rolled on her side and looked at her feet—the shackles were still attached, the illusion had survived.