Fire Prophet (Son of Angels) (23 page)
There were others behind them who saw what happened and fled. They were all gone.
Jonah, Eliza, and David stood up, gawking at the seven-year-old in front of them.
“Jeremiah,” Eliza finally said. “What is that you’re wearing?”
He looked down and seemed just as surprised as she was to see, across his waist, a belt of silver. It was covered with intricate markings.
“Whoa,” he said softly, running his fingers along the markings. “I . . . didn’t want them to hurt you anymore. The words just came to me. What is this?”
Jonah moved in for a closer look.
“Unbelievable,” he whispered, in awe of the gleaming piece of metal. “David, Eliza, what do you think?”
David studied it. “I think it’s the belt of truth.”
H
ow . . . what . . . ?” Jonah sputtered as he eyed his little brother with admiration.
“It’s one of the gifts listed in Ephesians 6,” Eliza said. “I guess you had to figure it would pop up sometime. We just haven’t had a chance to cover the belt of truth in class yet. But I do remember Taryn saying it is one of the more advanced giftings.”
She smiled, resting her hand on Jeremiah’s shoulder. “But just like Dad says, Elohim is Elohim, right? He’ll do whatever He wants to do. And you, Jeremiah, got a pretty awesome gift.”
“It seemed to activate when you spoke,” David said.
Eliza nodded. “Not only when he spoke, but when he spoke truth to the locusts.”
“Totally cool,” uttered Jonah, realizing David was right. Then he laughed. “Makes sense. Jeremiah has been known to blurt out the truth when it might be better not to!” Eliza laughed too.
David agreed. “You saved us, Jeremiah.”
Jeremiah just grinned, looking down at his belt.
“But it’s fading,” Eliza said. “Look.”
She was right. The belt was quickly losing its glow. They watched as it disappeared from sight.
“You’ll have to begin to learn how to use it now,” said Eliza. “Study it, practice with it, just like we do.”
“Help me . . . hurry! Please!”
Jonah’s attention was suddenly drawn to the voice again. Even louder than before. He ignored the others for a minute and strained to hear it.
Jonah reached down to his side and pulled his hand across his body. His glittering angelblade emerged again.
“Keep your eyes open and your arrows ready,” he said to David. “Eliza, are you ready with your shield? Good. Jeremiah, see if you can get yourself ready to use the belt again if you need it. Now, let’s go.”
He continued to listen for the voice of the prophet, and as it grew louder and louder, he found his confidence—and his nerves—rising. At least he was sure now that he wasn’t going crazy. But he had no idea what they would find. He kept going back to the dream, trying to figure out what the figures in the room with her looked like, who they were, how many of them there were, and what they were armed with. But he simply couldn’t remember what he had seen.
They turned a corner and suddenly Jonah stopped. In front of them was a sign that read TEMPLE MISSIONARY CITY CHURCH. In pink neon.
“Temple . . . ,” Jonah said to himself. “It’s exactly how it looked in the vision!” He turned to the others. “We’re close, guys.”
Looking across the street, he noticed a large, metal-sided warehouse. One rusty red door faced them from across the avenue. “And that’s the same door!” he said. “This has to be it.”
Jonah stood, watching the warehouse for a minute, suddenly feeling uncertain about what to do next. Should they just walk through the front door?
David slapped him on the shoulder. “No time to get cold feet now. We’re here. Let’s go ahead.”
Eliza fidgeted with her glasses. “Let’s just be careful, okay?”
Jonah nodded, his eyes locked on the door. “Jeremiah, stay behind me the whole time, do you understand?” He knew he sounded like their parents right now, but he didn’t care.
Jeremiah nodded solemnly. “Gotcha, Jonah.”
“And be ready for anything,” Jonah said. “My guess is there are fallen angels all over this place.”
They hurried across the street. Two homeless men were leaning against the brick wall of the warehouse, asleep. Scanning to the right and left, they saw no signs of the Fallen.
Jonah placed his hand on the door handle and quietly reminded himself that their job was to rescue the street preacher and get her to safety with as little trouble as possible. The next steps were up to Elohim. He had no answers beyond that. Only the lingering feeling that she would be able, somehow, to help them.
The rusty metal door creaked open and they stepped inside.
Jonah held his sword out in front of him. Eliza’s hands halfway lifted, ready to produce her shield of faith. David already had an arrow strung, aiming it into the darkness of the room they stepped in.
It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but pretty soon Jonah could tell that they were in a small room. The
floor was covered with junk and garbage. Old, dusty furniture sat in random places, most of it turned upside down and broken.
Jeremiah stepped on a soda can, and the sound of crinkling aluminum made them all stop at once. Eliza glared at him and mouthed the words
BE CAREFUL!
Jonah waited for a full minute before he was satisfied that no one had heard them. They may not be so lucky the next time.
They finally reached another door at the far side of the room, cracked open just enough that faint gray light from the next room poured in, and Jonah leaned over until he could see through the opening. It was some kind of office area, or at least used to be. He could see a couple of desks along the wall, a few office chairs, and a bookshelf. But clearly none of it had been used for a long time.
Jeremiah leaned in.
“What do you see in—?”
“Shhh!” Jonah said, listening. He could have sworn he heard something. They all stood perfectly still, not making a sound.
There it was again. The sound of muffled voices.
“Did you guys hear that?” David whispered.
Eliza nodded. “Yeah. Sounds like at least a few people. I was kind of hoping we wouldn’t see anyone except this prophet.”
Jonah’s forehead wrinkled. “Wishful thinking.”
He pushed open the door slowly. It let out a loud creak, and he winced and stopped. His heart beat faster, wondering if they’d been heard. The murmur of voices continued uninterrupted.
Well, it’s now or never
, thought Jonah. He pressed his hands against the metal surface of the door again, and as slowly and quietly as he could, pushed it open just enough for them to slip through.
Once they were all on the other side of the door, the voices
grew louder. Jonah thought he heard three men, possibly four, talking loudly, occasionally laughing. He couldn’t understand what they were saying, but it sounded like some of them were arguing, while another was laughing at them.
He motioned for Eliza, Jeremiah, and David to move over beside him. They were standing directly outside of the room with the voices now, and Jonah had a strong sense that this was where they would find the prophet.
The door to the room was slightly ajar, and he could now see a group of men sitting around a table. Four very large, muscular men were in the middle of an apparently very important card game. Each one had a Mohawk of bright red down the center of his scalp. They had on black T-shirts and jeans, and identical leather sandals that wrapped around their ankles. Four long spears were leaning against the wall in the corner of the room.
One of the men played his cards, smiling wickedly, and the other three threw down their hands in disgust.
“Come on, Frank!” one of the men began to shout, standing up and pointing a finger in his face. “You won again! You’ve got to be cheating!”
Jonah watched the guy named Frank reach up lazily, grab the muscular man’s entire fist in his hand, and push him back down into his seat so hard that he toppled over backward. The other two laughed nervously.
“Come on, Frank,” one of them said. “He was just kidding.”
They were so busy arguing about their card game that they didn’t notice the quarterlings watching them through the cracked door.
Jonah couldn’t see what was on the other side of the room without opening the door wider. But if he did that, he was sure
they would be spotted. He turned back to the others and took a few steps back from the door.
“There are four of them in there, playing cards together,” he said.
“Humans?” asked David.
Jonah raised his eyebrow. “I don’t know.”
David and Eliza both peered in now, studying them closely.
“The hair, the sandals,” muttered Eliza as she pulled her head back. “And the javelins. They remind anyone of anybody?”
“The bright red Mohawks . . . ,” David said slowly. Then he snapped his fingers. “Like the crest on a Roman soldier’s helmet!”
She nodded. “Roman soldiers.”
“How do you know they’re not just dudes with cool haircuts?” asked Jeremiah.
“They’re not glowing,” answered Jonah. “Since we’re in the hidden realm, we’d at least be able to see a faint glow inside them. If they were human.”
David whistled lowly. “Roman soldiers were fierce. They were some tough men. We need to be extra careful, guys.”
“But somehow we need to get them out of that room so we can see if they’re holding the prophet inside,” Eliza answered.
“How do we do that without getting caught?” piped up Jeremiah.
“I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me.”
She moved to the other side of the room. Grinning at them, she picked up a stapler on a desk, cocked her arm back, and threw it across the room.
It smashed into the wall, and Jonah watched as the four Roman soldiers immediately jumped up from their card game.
“What was . . . ?” one hissed, and Frank barked out orders. “Somebody’s in there. Go check it out! Get up! Now!”
Jonah stepped to the side of the door beside David, pushing Jeremiah back into a shadow against a row of shelves. One of the men shoved the door open, slamming it into the wall.
Eliza was already gone, back out of the other door and into the first room. Jonah heard another crash and knew that Eliza had thrown something else. At the sound of that, all three men, and even Frank, rushed into the room and through the next door, holding their javelins over their heads.
They pushed themselves even flatter against the wall. As the group disappeared from sight, Jonah knew that now was their chance.
“Come on!” he urged David and Jeremiah.
They rushed into the room. To the left was an African woman, her mouth covered in tape and her limbs tied to a chair so that her hands and feet were firmly fastened. The colorful dress and scarf she wore were covered in dirt and dust—it was just like in his dreams.
Jonah looked back over his shoulder at the door, then moved quickly toward her. It was definitely the street preacher who had seen him in the hidden realm in Chinatown.
Her eyes grew wide as she saw the three boys come toward her.
“Hey, are you all right?” Jonah asked, touching her on the shoulder gently. “We’ve got to get you out of here.”
He pulled at the tape on her mouth, and her eyes squeezed shut at the pain of it ripping from her lips.
“So it’s you?” she said when she recovered, looking at Jonah with a mix of amazement and curiosity. “I remember seeing you on the street. There was something different about you . . . Elohim pointed you out to me.”
A bruise encircled her right eye, but even in this state, she
smiled widely. “So you are the answer to my prayer? Well, Elohim always surprises. And this must be your little brother. You look just alike.”
Jeremiah smiled at her and waved.
“Hello, ma’am,” David said quietly.
She took David in. “And a fellow African for a hero as well?” She took his hand in hers and held it warmly.
There was so much Jonah wanted to ask her, so much he didn’t understand. How could she see them? How had her voice reached him across space and time—and duct tape, for that matter? But none of that was important at the moment. “Our sister has led those guys out of here. We need to get you out of this place before they come back.”
She was clearly weak and tired, but she nodded eagerly. Jonah used his angelblade to slice through the ropes with ease. The blade seemed to surprise her, but she made no comment as she pulled the bindings off her wrists and ankles, dropping them to the floor.
“Okay, we have to go, fast!” Jonah said, pulling her toward the door. All they needed was a couple of seconds and they’d be out of the warehouse.
That’s when they heard the sound of loud footsteps approaching. Jonah frantically searched for another exit, but he couldn’t find one. And they were coming through the door . . .
Two of the men walked back into the room.
“Hey!” one of them said to the prophet. “What are you doing? And who are you?”