(Wrath-09)-Spiders From The Shadows (2013) (2 page)

“Your dad was paying your way through college. He bought you that cool car,” Brucius pointed out.

“Cool? Are you kidding? That British Triumph was nothing but a piece of junk.”

“It was a chick magnet, baby.”

“The sucker never ran,” James complained. “I spent more time on the bus than any poor black kid in Memphis.”

They both fell silent, smiling, the memory deep and full.

“I’ll always remember,” James repeated, his voice low and monotone. He was talking to himself now. “I looked down the row of kids and saw you. You looked at me. And from that moment, before we had ever even spoken, I knew that you were going to be my best friend.”

“It was a long time ago,” Brucius answered. “But that has proven true.”

“You know what else? Out of that whole group of kids, out of that entire bunch of snot-nosed, brilliant, ambitious, arrogant, give-it-to-me-because-I-deserve-it Yale freshman, I don’t think anyone would have predicted we would end up where we are.
We
never would have guessed it. Yet,” he motioned to their surroundings, “here we are.”

“
Audaces fortuna iuvat
,” Brucius smiled. “
Fortune favors the bold
.” the PCASS had provenrd">The

“
Ab incunabulis
,” the FBI Director answered. “
From the cradle.
”

This made Brucius laugh. “I’ve got a better one: ‘
Age. Fac ut gaudeam.
’”

James had to think, translating in his head. “
Go ahead. Make my day
.” He wet his lips and laughed. “Gotta love that one.”

“I think it’s more appropriate than what you said. I’m pretty sure the only useful thing I did in my cradle was poop. I don’t think that I was predestined to—”

James cut him off. “Not predestined. Ordained. And yes, I think you were. I think we both were. We find ourselves here, at this critical juncture in time, not out of happenstance or luck or some perfect storm of time and circumstance. It certainly wasn’t inevitable, but I do think there is a purpose and plan to it all.”

Brucius didn’t answer for a moment. “Maybe,” was all he said.

“Not
maybe,
Brucius. What I said was true.”

“Maybe. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how we got here; all that matters is what we do with this moment we’ve been given. All that really matters is what we do with right now.”

James looked around as if caught in some internal debate, then turned back to his friend. “I had an interesting experience about a year ago. It’ll sound crazy, and I’m not sure you’ll understand, but I want you to hear it. I know you’re not a Christian—despite my best efforts to save you,” James gave him a wry smile, “but I know your heart. So I want you to listen to what I’m going to tell you and really try to understand.”

Brucius waited, his face unchanging.

“Last Christmas, Emily and I went to a Christmas concert at the National Cathedral. The Mormon Choir was there. They’re pretty good, you know. During the concert, they sang a song that harmonized with
Silent Night
. In the background they sang these words: “This is a time of peace/This is a time of joy.”

“As I heard those words, a feeling came over me, a certain assurance, as if a voice were speaking to me from God. It
was
a time for joy. It
was
a time for peace. It was the great breath of air before the deep plunge, the great calm of peace before the dark and deadly storm. It was the final moment of quiet, the deep sigh of hope before the last cage was opened to the darkness of a stark and evil world. The Lord’s angels were waiting to sound their trumps, but evil angels were also waiting to unleash their hate upon the world.

“And as they sang, I started wondering, how long will this last peace last? Now we know. It is over. How deep will be the darkness? Only time will tell. But on that night, in that cathedral, the impression was so clear. “
Strengthen yourself
,” the voice whispered to me. “
Prepare for what is true! The time of darkness is coming. Find joy in this day. Live, love, and be happy! But also know He is preparing His kingdom, and soon He will appear. Are you willing to help Him? Are you worthy of His cause? The battle lines are drawing. Which side are you on? No one can stand on the sidelines, hoping the storms will pass them by! This battle will sweep every generation and every people on earth—the young and the old, the cowards and the true. So prepare now while He gives you this final the only surviving memberme28 moment of peace. Prepare now for the darkness that is building before the final storm.
”

James trailed off. He didn’t know any better how to explain it. And he didn’t know why it was so important to him that Brucius understand.

Brucius looked at him awkwardly. “I don’t—you know, James, I’m just not that kind of guy. I left the church when I was just an altar boy. It killed my family and the local priest, but it just was not my thing. I wanted to believe. I
still
want to believe. But there were too many holes, too many things that didn’t make sense. Still, I don’t begrudge you your faith or beliefs. In fact, I’m envious. And, in my own way, I’m still searching. But I have to be honest with you when I say I just don’t see too much in all of that. This thing that happened to you in the cathedral, this premonition or whatever, I don’t doubt it for a minute; I just don’t think the same thing will ever happen to me. And I don’t know that it means too much anyway.

“To me, this thing is pretty simple. Some guys have stolen the presidency. I’m going to round them up and kill them. You’re going to help me. Everything else is purely smoke.”

James looked intently at his friend, thought a long moment, then nodded.

“You OK with that?” Brucius asked.

James stood up from the table.

Brucius pushed to his feet and leaned into him. “I mean what I told you,” he repeated. “Don’t take any chances. Get in, get out, and get back here. Simple as that. You got me?”

James watched him another moment. Did Brucius understand at all? Maybe not. Probably not. But, one day, James knew he would.

Brucius watched his friend’s cheeks protruding as he moved his tongue around his teeth. “Don’t break it,” he told him protectively. “No good if you start throwing up right here.”

“I’m not a fool,” James smiled weakly.

Brucius nodded to the door behind them. “It’s time to go,” he said.

James moved around the table. He, too, was tired, that was obvious from the stiff way he moved his legs.

Brucius put his arms around his shoulders. “You don’t have to do this,” he said a final time.

James scowled. “Don’t insult me, friend.”

“Trust no one. Don’t expect any of them to trust you. Always expect they will be watching. Everything you do, every word you say, every glance of your eyes and inflection of your voice will be noted. If they could read your mind, they would do it. Plan on the worst case and go from there.”

James raised an impatient eyebrow. “I got it.”

TWO

Sara2">Four Miles West of Chatfield, Twenty-One Miles Southwest of Memphis, Tennessee

Bono stood on the back porch of the white-paneled house, his dark hair blown back across his neck. His skin looked especially tan in the dying light, his eyes alert, his demeanor calm, his shoulders slacking. The same cold wind that just a few nights before had passed over the frigid waters of Lake Michigan to gust at Sara Brighton and her family atop the old railroad building in East Chicago had rushed down from the north and mixed with the moist air sucked up from the Gulf of Mexico to form a cold and constant drizzle over most of the Tennessee river valley. The soldier looked up at the clouds passing over the trees and open fields, estimating the ceiling at just a couple of hundred feet. The dark clouds rushed past him, billowing layers that were driven eastward by a powerful force.

He watched a moment, then stepped down from the porch and walked across the grass, his head up, his eyes on the rushing skies. The gentle rain wet his face, but he didn’t notice, and he never wiped his face. As he gazed up at the heavens, he sensed an unseen power. Something up there, moving, alive and full of evil energy—watching, listening, looking, waiting. Yes, that was it. Something waiting. Just like he was. Just like they all were.
He
was up there waiting, watching and hoping. The dark spirits surrounded him and filled his ears with their constant cries, their boiling agitation driving them to a froth.

Bono kept looking up, his heart beating rapidly. As he sensed the presence of the evil, a sudden realization rested upon him:
Lucifer hated the thought of passing time.
Far more than the mortals, Lucifer felt old, used, tired, wrinkled, bent and hopeless
for he knew his time would pass
! There was no hope in Lucifer’s future, nothing to look forward to at all. So Lucifer didn’t want the final battle to ever end. He feared it and dreaded it. He knew he would lose, and when he did, the outcome would lead to his destruction. He would be cast out, expelled from the empire he had worked so hard to lead, thrust out from the kingdom he had built upon this earth.

The Last Days were just the beginning for the righteous, but they were the final days for Lucifer.

As Bono thought, the rain and mist gathered deeper all around. He took one last look at the skies, then slowly bowed his head.

He didn’t hear her slip out of the house or walk across the wooden porch, the padding of her bare feet lost in the sound of the blowing wind. She stood quietly watching him, the rain dribbling from the roof before her face.

And though he didn’t see her leaning against the white pillar on the porch behind him, he sensed her spirit and knew that she was near.

* * * * * * * *

Caelyn watched him a long moment. He was so handsome. So strong, sure of himself, gentle and concerned. He wasn’t perfect, not by any means—his smile was a bit crooked, he was far too arrogant, and she hated the way he wore his hair, more like a Bedouin warrior than a U.S. Army Special Forces officer—but she saw none of the imperfections as she looked upon him now. She had never loved him more. No man had ever made her feel the way he did. From the first time she had seen him—and she remembered that sunny afternoon back on the campus at UCLA very well—she had never even considered another man. That night, for some reason she didn’t understand, she had closed her eyes to pray, and the voice that had come to her was as real as the yellow square of moonlight that had spread across her bed. “
You will marry him
,” the voice had said.ared at Sagap

She had opened her eyes and looked up at the darkness. “I will
what
?!” she had demanded.

“
The life you will share together will be difficult, but I will also make it sweet
.”

Looking back, she realized that time had proven the premonition true.

Caelyn shivered and drew her arms around her chest. Bono turned and looked at her, then extended his hand. She left the porch, her feet getting soaked as she walked across the wet grass. She lifted his arm, twirled underneath it, turned her back to him, and leaned against his chest. Together they studied the weeping sky, their faces growing wet.

Bono pressed his nose against her neck, the fragrance of her hair lifting in the wind. “I love you, Caelyn,” he whispered to her.

She leaned against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“I love you more than anything.” His voice was hardly more than a whisper.

She smiled, but there was a sadness in her posture that her husband couldn’t see. She tilted her head against his chin. “You love me, babe. I know that. But there are other things that you love, too?” Her voice was half teasing, half true.

He nuzzled against her neck but didn’t answer.

“You love America. You love our freedom.”

She felt him move against her arms.

“I love you more than
anything
,” he told her.

She stared out blankly at the growing darkness, holding herself motionless as he grew tense.

She wanted to believe it.
Most
of her believed it. But there was another part of her, a part deep inside the feminine emotions of her soul, that couldn’t quite fit the pieces into place. He would do anything for her, she knew that. He’d make any sacrifice, but he wouldn’t leave the military.
That
he would not do, and it wasn’t so much that he wouldn’t, but he
couldn’t.
She might as well ask him to sell his soul to the devil as to ask him to quit serving his country right now.

Funny thing was, if America had been at peace, if the battle wasn’t raging now around them, he would have resigned his commission without her even asking him. It wasn’t just the service to his country that attracted him. It was serving during a time of war. At first, that hadn’t made any sense to Caelyn. It was as strange as if he had said he wanted to start eating grass and living outside with the cows. However, over time, after being around him and his friends, she had begun to understand at least a little of why the soldiers felt so compelled to serve. It was something deep inside them, something she couldn’t ever really feel in exactly the same way as they did.

Why would a man throw himself into battle, casting his life into the wind while rushing forward against a hail of metal, fire, smoke and death, feeling the splatter of the dead and the dying all around him? Why would men choose to leave their homes, their wives, their families, clean showers, flushing toilets, microwave ovens, and soft beds, to live on the razor’s edge? Enduring 120 degrees Fahrenheit of summer heat while dressed in full combat gear? Surviving bitter winters in the mountains? Through it all, they would grumble and complain, yet when it came time for another tour of duty, all of them went back. None of them were forced to go back. There certainly was no draft.

“We knew what we were getting into,” sheOffutt Air Force Basegap remembered her husband saying. “We go outside the wire, we see cutoff heads and tortured children, and we do our best to fight it. And when it’s over, we’ll know we did something that really matters. How many people can ever say that about their lives?”