The Incubus, Succubus and Son of Perdition Box Set: The Len du Randt Bundle (80 page)

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Between the tents, between the
thousands of people trying to go about the chores of eating and staying clean,
a lone figure walked. He didn’t speak to anyone, and avoided eye contact at all
cost. He didn’t know where he was going, or who he was looking for, but he had
a strange feeling gnawing at him, telling him that no matter what, he
had
to be there. It was difficult to see much through the campfire smoke, but a
familiar voice caught his attention. He froze, trying to pinpoint the exact
location of the voice.

Speak again!
He thought, almost aloud.
Say
something; anything!

The voice spoke again, and he made his way in the
direction that it was originating from. He came to a halt a short distance from
the man to make sure that it was the right person. He recognized him
immediately.

‘Mister Freedman?’ he said as he approached the man.

‘Erm...yes?’

‘Malcolm Freedman, right?’

The man extended his hand and Malcolm took it. ‘Call me
Joe,’ the man said as they shook hands.

‘Pleased to meet you...Joe,’ Malcolm said. ‘Do I know
you?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Joe said. ‘But that is not the issue here. We
have to get these people to a safe place before Victor comes after us.’

‘I agree,’ Malcolm said. ‘But where do we go?’

‘I don’t know,’ Joe said, ‘but staying here would be
suicide.’

‘We should establish some form of leadership.’

‘I agree. Gather as many leaders and Rabbis as you can
while I—’

Joe was interrupted as a motorcycle engine cut through
the tranquil morning air. In a matter of seconds, there were hundreds of motor
cycles driving around and through the tents. The men on the motor cycles wore
black clothing and were wearing strips of cloth around their faces.

Women screamed and people started running as one of the
riders fired a semi-automatic into the air.

‘What’s going on?’ Malcolm shouted above the screams
and gunshots.

‘I don’t know,’ Joe said and pulled out a gun of his
own. ‘But I’m sure that we’re about to find out.’

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Joe fired two rapid shots into the
front tire of an advancing motor cycle. The wheel seized, and the bike flipped
over, sending its driver soaring through the air.

Joe didn’t waste any time. He sprinted to the fallen
driver and jerked the semiconscious man to his feet.

‘Who are you?’ Joe screamed at the man. ‘What do you
want from us?’

The man tried to stay conscious, but was clearly
disorientated.

‘Tell me or I will blow your head off,’ Joe said and
pressed the barrel of his gun against the man’s temple. ‘Are you N-Force?’

‘Not so fast,’ a voice behind Joe interrupted. Joe spun
around and saw one of the bikers holding a gun to Malcolm’s temple.

Joe scoped the surrounding terrain with his peripheral
vision as he tried to estimate where all the intruders were. ‘I guess we have
ourselves a situation here,’ he said.

‘It appears so,’ the other rider said. ‘What do you
propose we do?’

Joe looked around. The other bikers had rounded up the
people and were gathering them into a crowd. ‘What are your interests?’ Joe
asked. ‘Why are you here?’

‘We are here to gather the elect for protection.’

‘You call this protection?’ Joe asked and waved his
pistol toward the driver and Malcolm. That was all the time his hostage needed
to plant a powerful blow on Joe’s leg, sending the big man sprawling to the
ground. The hostage picked up his weapon and tossed it toward the rider holding
Malcolm hostage. The man shoved Malcolm next to Joe and sat on a rock as he
studied them.

‘Who are you that you possess a weapon after they have
been outlawed?’ the rider asked and pointed at Joe’s gun.

‘My name is of no concern to you,’ Joe said.

‘But it is,’ the rider said and raised his weapon.
‘Tell me, or your name will be of no importance to anyone anymore.’

Joe mumbled the name that he was known by.

The rider lowered his weapon. ‘What did you say?’ he
asked.

‘My name is Eugene,’ the man said louder. ‘But people
know me as
Benny the Fist
.’

Malcolm took an instinctive step back.

‘Benny the Fist,’ the rider said as he thoughtfully
studied the man. ‘You would be quite an asset on our team.’

Benny just remained still.

‘And as for you,’ the rider said and pointed his
firearm at Malcolm. ‘Do you have what it takes to join us?’

‘I believe I do,’ Malcolm said. He still couldn’t come
to terms that he was standing a few feet away from the most notorious assassin
in the world.

‘Are you willing to die for your faith?’ the rider
asked.

‘I am,’ Malcolm answered. He wondered if Mary was okay
and scanned the crowd for her.

‘Are you willing to sacrifice all you have for Jesus?’
the rider asked.

‘What does this have to—?’

‘Answer the question!’

‘I...yes.’

‘Are you willing to sacrifice your son for God?’

‘My son...’ Malcolm said and lowered his gaze. ‘My son
is dead...’

‘But if he was alive, would you sacrifice him for God
if you had to?’

Malcolm bit his lip as memories of Timothy flashed
through his mind. ‘I...would...’ he said and lowered his head in shame.

‘Then I am glad to announce that you are now officially
part of our team,’ the rider said and removed the strips of material from his
face.

Both Malcolm and Benny the Fist gasped when they saw
who it was standing before them.

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It’s the boy!
Benny the Fist
thought as he studied the man’s face.
He was the one I saw talking to the
two prophets!

‘Tim?’ Malcolm said, still not able to believe his
eyes. ‘Is that really you?’

Timothy nodded. ‘It’s me, Father,’ he said.

‘How...? Where...? I thought you were dead.’

‘After you exiled me, I wandered the wilderness until I
passed out. A group of men found me and took me to their hideout. They have set
up a command centre in a network of caves nearby and as time went by, I quickly
climbed the ranks until I recently replaced our late leader, Josephus Levi.

‘I broke our group down into smaller cells; all trained
for guerrilla warfare, and have formed a band of undercover scouts to keep us
informed of the proceedings in Jerusalem.’

‘How do you eat?’ Malcolm asked. ‘Where do you get your
water from?’

‘The Lord provides us with food and drink as He did
with Moses in the desert. Manna and quail fall from the skies in daily doses,
and we are allowed to take enough for the day; any more and it rots. The Lord
faithfully provides us with enough each and every day. There is also a fresh
water stream in one of our caves that comes straight from the Earth. It will
remain so until the time is right for us to return to Jerusalem.’

Malcolm couldn’t believe how much his son had grown and
how mature he had become. He had turned from a meek boy into a strong young
man. Malcolm would have loved to take the credit for how his son turned out,
but he knew that he couldn’t. His boy did it on his own.

‘What do you suggest we do?’ Malcolm asked.

‘Have these people pack up and gather their belongings.
We need to leave as soon as possible so that we may escape the coming wrath. We
leave in an hour.’

‘Sir,’ a young man interrupted and produced a small,
portable television set. ‘Something’s going down in Jerusalem. You have to see
this.’

‘What is it?’ Timothy asked and looked at the screen.

‘I don’t know sir,’ the scout said ‘but the entire city
just started shaking.’

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‘What are we looking at?’ Malcolm
asked as he studied the images on the screen.

‘Just keep watching,’ the scout said and turned up the
volume.

A man appeared on the T.V. screen, holding a microphone
and waving his hand in a general direction as he spoke. ‘Yes, Connie,’ he
shouted. ‘It appears that it is indeed the two men that Lord Yoshe disposed
of.’

‘How is that possible, John?’ a woman’s voice asked.
‘Weren’t they confirmed dead by top N-Force authorities?’

‘That is correct, Connie,’ the reporter answered. ‘But
I can only tell you what I see. Those two men are standing at the very same
spot where they supposedly died, preaching as if nothing had happened to them
in the first place.’

The camera panned from the reporter and zoomed in on
the two men that Victor had killed two and a half days ago. Malcolm couldn’t
believe that they were alive, but felt a sense of relief. Where he once would
have loved to strangle the men with his bare hands, he now had a newfound
respect and appreciation for them. He finally understood their purpose and
message.

‘The ones that God Almighty has sealed must flee,’ the
older prophet shouted at the camera. ‘The time is short until the man of sin
shall return, to rage his fury against those that oppose him and choose to
serve the living God instead.’

‘Do not worry about provisions,’ Elijah said. ‘For the
Bread of life will provide. Do not worry about shelter, for the Rock will be
your shelter. Proclaim the Son of the living God to all nations and make the
blind see.’

‘I don’t understand what they’re trying to say,’ the
news reporter said. ‘But I can tell you that it’s—’

Come to me!
a voice thundered from the clouds.
The crew and everyone else in Jerusalem, except the two men, fell down under
the awesome power of the voice. The two men looked up at the skies. The
cameraman eventually regained his footing and focused his camera on the clouds
to see who or what had called out. He didn’t get anything except a few lens
flare shots.

‘Remember,’ Elijah said. ‘The Father, Son, and Holy
Spirit will never leave nor forsake you.’

With that, the two men shot up into the sky so fast
that the cameraman almost lost his balance again. In less than three seconds,
the men disappeared from sight.

‘Well,’ Benny the Fist asked Malcolm. ‘What do you make
of it?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Malcolm said. ‘But what I do know is
that they were talking to us.’

‘That’s right,’ Timothy said and dismissed the scout.
‘We have to get the people ready for—’

The ground started vibrating and the three men looked
down at the same time. The vibrations soon turned to a light shaking as the
Earth rumbled.

‘Whatever this is,’ Benny the Fist yelled to Malcolm
above the rumbling noise. He pointed at the T.V. screen. ‘It’s happening in
Jerusalem too.’

‘Earthquake!’ Timothy shouted as he held onto something
to keep his balance.

Tents collapsed as people scrambled about, trying to
find shelter. Eventually the violent shaking knocked most people off their
feet.

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‘It’s a quake!’ the news reporter
yelled into his microphone as he dodged massive falling boulders while he tried
to successfully manoeuvre his way for cover and protection.

‘Our weather people are receiving seismic activities in
that area,’ Connie Jacobs spoke to the reporter through his earpiece from the
newsroom at GMN central. ‘Get out of there, John!’

‘I’m trying, Connie, but our car has been crushed by
rubble. We will have to try and find another means of transport.’

Andrew’s knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists.
‘Get out of there!’ he shouted at the television.

‘Connie, get the chopper out here if you can. We need
to get out of here,
now!
’ The reporter’s voice had changed to a frantic
scream. The Earth shook even more, and both he and the cameraman fell to the
ground. The camera lay motionless on its side, and recorded a brief glimpse of
the reporter scrambling to his feet. A large boulder fell on the reporter with
such force that Andrew jerked away from the television.

‘John?’ Connie’s frantic voice came from the studio.
‘John, are you there?’

No reply.

Andrew felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t force
himself to look away.

‘Answer me, John!’ the woman shouted again, her voice
more frantic than before. ‘Are you two okay?’

Still no reply.

Something fell in front of the camera with a loud
thud
,
and a few seconds later, the screen flashed snow, and then went black.