Judas and the Vampires (21 page)

For that matter, their entire fleet of vehicles and infantry moved across another meadow toward us with resolute purpose. Their lone focus was the Tree of Life. We now had firsthand knowledge of its healing powers. Especially the healing powers of a living stream that flowed close enough to the magnificent crystal structure to capture its essence.

We only had a minute or two to seek cover, since they approached from the other side of the crystal tree.

“Everyone stay low and follow me,” I said, quietly, while motioning for Alistair to stick with me. Jeremy and Amy followed close behind. “We’ll need to hide somewhere in the woods, until we can figure out what to do next.”

“We’re not going to let these assholes come in here and desecrate the one honest-to-God sacred shrine in existence, are we?” Alistair’s tone was filled with disdain that I knew could easily escalate into full-blown anger at any moment.

“Until we can come up with a foolproof plan to stay alive, that’s exactly what we’re going to do!” I urged everyone to make a beeline for the large tree where the panther had been perched earlier. The tree was empty at the moment. “These guys won’t give a rat’s ass whether we’re dead or alive—I damned well guarantee it!”

“I can stay behind and try to pick off as many as possible,” Jeremy offered, checking his rifle as he prepared to head back to the crystal tree that was growing darker. Its dominant color had changed to purple, almost amethyst, as if the structure itself understood the gravity of our present predicament. “I’ll meet up with you guys once I take a few shots at that bastard, Stanislav!”

“What?!
Why in the hell are you in such a hurry to
die?”

Amy stomped back toward him after she said this. I couldn’t hear the exact conversation, but she and her brother traded a few more statements made in anger that were followed by her desperately trying to grab the weapon from him.

“What in the hell is up with you two?
” I hissed in anger.

The two most educated people in our foursome were acting like a couple of spoiled brats. Livid, I hurried back to them. We were losing precious minutes—even seconds—with this bullshit.

“Stanislav and his men will be here at any moment!!”

“You’re wrong once again, Mr. Barrow!”

Before a troop of Russian mercenaries closed in on us from all sides, I heard an older Glock pistol being cocked from nearby, just a foot or two behind my right ear. The rich smell of Cavendish drifted toward me, and I immediately recognized the gun, tobacco, and the thick Russian accent of the voice. The sibling Golden Eagles’ angry expressions from a moment ago were now wholly subdued, and fearful. Even their matching brilliant emerald eyes appeared muted.

“We are already here!”

The chuckle that followed was sardonic, and I turned my head slowly to face my longtime nemesis. Viktor Kaslow. I couldn’t believe I didn’t hear or even feel his stealthy approach from behind me. Anger tends to dull my senses.... I genuinely hate it when I get pissed off!

Dressed casually, except for the black riding boots he’s always favored, Viktor pulled out his cigar and tapped away the ashes that passed dangerously close to my face. He grinned maliciously, and I could tell he intended to milk my current predicament and presumed demise for as long as possible. Like I’ve stated, I never worry for me—not ever. But right then I was scared shitless. Scared for Alistair’s welfare, as well as for Amy and Jeremy. Two pups with the vast majority of their lives still in front of them, and the kid I couldn’t bear to part ways with.

“This is between just you and me.” I was unsure how to proceed against my longtime enemy. He truly had the upper hand at the moment. “Let the others go, and I’ll give you no trouble.”

His grin widened to a contemptuous smile—one that lacked any sign of warmth, though his eyes bore a mirthful glint. Not a good combination when dealing with this asshole. So many close calls with death in the past.... I had survived Viktor Kaslow’s knife attacks, grenades and rigged explosives, machine gun fire—you name it—during the past twenty-some years. From Istanbul to Moscow to London, and once in New York, never had he succeeded in inflicting a mortal wound. I regretted more than ever not erasing him from this life when I had the chance in Athens fourteen years ago. Mercy then needed to be repaid now, and I implored the Almighty in silence to spare three lives and only take mine if it came down to it.

“Ah, yes, my dear William.... I expected you to seek their protection,” he said, his tone scornful after he secured the bonds that held my hands behind my back. “Unfortunately, they will all play roles in the celebration of the discovery of what we’ve come for...the Tree of Life!”

He motioned for the soldiers closest to him to move in and disarm Jeremy. Jeremy and Amy both resisted, fighting and cursing the Russians who fell upon them. But the soldiers soon prevailed, securing them both. My son was still too disoriented to offer even slight resistance, and as my hands were held tight a sickening feeling filled my stomach. Visions of being forced to watch Alistair, Amy, and Jeremy tortured to death filled my frightened mind. Then it would be time for Viktor to decide the manner in which he wished to dispatch me.

“Get your dirty, slimy hands off me, assholes!!”
shrieked Amy, when one of the soldiers groped inside her blouse.

When Jeremy tried to come to her rescue, another soldier slammed the butt of his rifle against Jeremy’s head. He crumpled to the ground, and from where I stood I saw a small river of blood pour down the side of his head. Amy cried out even harder, trying to reach him while another soldier smacked her in the face.

“Let them go!” Alistair cried out, before I heard another gun-butt crack against his head. Enough to stun him into silence, though his head wound looked less severe than the blow delivered to Jeremy.

“Predictable responses. Wouldn’t you agree, William?” Viktor crowed. He motioned for the assault on Amy to cease.

The soldier grinned in response and pulled back the beret they wore. I was surprised to see it was a female and not a guy, as I had assumed from the attack. Of course, the gender of the assailant mattered little. The mortified look on Amy’s face matched mine, and she tried unsuccessfully to take a shot at the soldier. Viktor raised his hand again, this time to stop the soldier from using her rifle as a club against Amy’s face.

“Stop, Caprea! Leave some fun for all of us,” he said, his tone bearing an unsettling mixture of joy and callousness. “Just let me have a final word with my old friend William and then you all can do what you will with his unfortunate companions.”

Think fast, William...Damn it, THINK!!

It was up to me...and yet what could I do? An aggressive move borne out of misplaced bravado would certainly spell a quicker end of Alistair’s, Amy’s and Jeremy’s earthly stay. No way in hell I’d take such a gamble.

By my estimate, there were nearly eighty mercenaries along with Viktor and a crew of scientists presently making their way around the Tree of Life. The scientists were measuring the crystal’s base. I wondered for what purpose?

Then I watched in further horror as one of the scientists set explosives around the entire perimeter of the tree...spacing them in a radius roughly ten feet from the outer core of the structure. The Russians were planning to uproot the tree! But the loader didn’t look big enough to carry it, so were they planning to harvest only the roots of the crystal?

“Well, then...are you ready to meet your maker, William?” Viktor returned to where I stood. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. “Maybe you should get on your knees and give thanks, that I won’t make this as painful as you made things for our two colleagues you murdered yesterday morning...hmmm?”

The glint of supreme amusement danced within his icy blue eyes. They were lighter than when we last faced each other, in the wee hours of that morning. I wanted to gouge them out, and then tear the obnoxious grin from his face.

“Or, maybe you should just pack up your shit and take your stupid ass out of here along with these other Soviet jerk-offs before the angel who guards this place shows up!”

Not the wittiest thing I’ve ever come up with and I wish I knew where it originated from. Really, I had no prior intention of saying something as silly as this, despite the fact I had been wondering what in the hell was keeping Ophanim from his Garden of Eden duties. Still, the words brought a sense of power, and a sudden feeling of excitement quickened my pulse. One that gained strength despite Mr. Kaslow’s derisive snicker that soon erupted into uproarious laughter.

“An angel, eh? Seriously, William—that’s the best you can come up with?!” He laughed harder, which brought out more of his natural Serbian accent. Even the sullen army gathered around us was snickering. “Perhaps, Petr—soon to be the most powerful man in the civilized world—perhaps he would like to comment on your suggestion.... Petr?”

Similar to the last time we met, Petr Stanislav soon appeared from my periphery. His imposing shadow briefly blocked out the crystal’s light as he stepped in front of me. As before, his lovely breath threatened to draw out the remaining contents of my stomach through my mouth as one explosive attack directed at his noxious person. Since it would only hasten my death sentence, I swallowed hard to keep such an event from happening.

“Yes, Mr. William Barrow, tell us about your angel!” Stanislav sneered, pushing each word at my nostrils, as if he wanted me to inhale his foulness in its entirety.

His light gray eyes seemed even more lifeless than before. I’ve heard there are people born soulless. He could easily be such a man. Subtract his enormous wealth and size and he would be nondescript as a person, sad to say.

“Is it someone famous, like Gabriel or Michael? Or, maybe it is the legendary Raphael who is said to guard this place?” he continued to taunt. “It does appear that he failed to do an adequate job of keeping ‘evil doers’ out of Eden! Maybe he should retire. Or, better yet, trade shifts with the Mormon’s Moroni, whom everyone can see atop their famous Tabernacle back in the country you should’ve never left, you foolish man!”

Like Viktor, his initial chuckles soon swelled into an unpleasant surge of uproarious laughter. Then he requested the slim Glock in Viktor’s hand.

Before he simply pointed the barrel at my forehead or heart to end my illustrious existence as William Judas Barrow, I had one last chance to say something that could change my fate. Even if it bought just another thirty seconds while he and Viktor chuckled some more.

“You’re wrong about the angel’s name, and you’d better hope you haven’t pissed him off for your sakes! His name is Ophanim, and I’d be willing to bet your wealth and mine that he’s more than a tad upset that you’ve carelessly changed the décor around here!”

For a moment, Petr Stanislav glared at me in angry silence, while a slight smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth. I thought for sure this would be when he raised the pistol and placed a searing bullet through my head or into my chest. But he chose instead to laugh again, and as Viktor joined in, the laughter quickly spread to everyone. Everyone, I should say, other than Amy, Jeremy, and my son who had regained consciousness.

But then another sound overrode the laughter, though it started subtly. It sounded like a high-pitched whistle, barely audible I’m sure, except to someone with my set of ears. But as the whistling noise grew louder, everyone’s attention was drawn to the northwestern corner of the cave. A slender orange light appeared in the air. The light resembled a vertical pole or staff, and as it drew nearer to us the brilliant image seemed unstable as if it were flickering.

“What in the hell is that?” Alistair squinted his eyes. No doubt, he missed having his favored eyewear on hand. “It looks as if someone’s holding a light...someone very big!”

Someone as big as Goliath...although opaque, and barely visible. Someone who could fly through the air with ease.

All eyes were drawn toward the figure, whose speed picked up considerably once it spotted the hundred or so humans gathered near the Tree of Life.

“Is that Ophanim?” Amy’s tone clearly revealed her astonishment—especially as the figure suddenly bore down upon us.

She had seen some pretty spectacular things already in the presence of ‘yours truly’. But, sadly, I can’t compete with the unearthly beauty and fierce presence of this kind of immortal being—one whose age easily runs in the tens of thousands of years.

“Yeah, it is!” said Jeremy, his countenance revived. “He’s come back to protect the sacred garden!”

The siblings Golden Eagle looked like matching Hummel figurines—at least that’s what they reminded me of, with upturned gazes in quiet fascination. And who could blame them? Ophanim’s majesty is almost beyond description. And when I say ‘him’ it is in a very loose sense. Guardians like this one are far too splendid in their beauty and raiment to be considered pure ‘males’. Keep in mind also that only a few breeds of angels can actually propagate. I’m sure any avid readers here have either heard or read about the creators of the human giants mentioned in the Talmud, or Old Testament of the modern Bible. Those angels are not of the same ilk as one like this.

Almost godlike in his comeliness, his facial features were aglow within light bronze skin. For the moment, his skin was translucent, as if this wonderful and fearsome being was partially invisible. Think of a fine cut-glass statue when the sun’s rays hit it. Ophanim’s current appearance was like that. His deep lavender eyes were aglow with intensity that many might mistake for friendliness. But I knew better, personally knowing the passion such a being brings to heavenly assignments.