The Redeemer (32 page)

“You’re an eternal being. A few thousand years doesn’t matter that much.”

“But I’ve just now begun to regain my equilibrium as an angel.”

“You will remain an angel—supernatural. And unlike Jesus, who
became
human, you will only
appear
to be human.”

“It’s too much to ask,” I said, wringing my hands to show my despair, but they showed no empathy. “If I just understood why, then maybe—”

“Why?” Michael interrupted. “Have you ever known God to answer why?”

“What, when, and where,” Gabriel chimed in, “but never why.”

“Who could endure such a demotion?” I knew I was whining.

Michael rolled his eyes.

I was embarrassed when I thought about what I’d just said. “I mean besides Jesus.” I was so disappointed. Then my vanity leaked out. I couldn’t help but think back to how hideous I’d looked as a demon.

“If I agree to be a human, I’d like to be attractive—like David; he was my favorite. Can you arrange that?”

“It’s been decided,” Gabriel said.

“Jesus has designed a human house for you consistent with your personality and suitable for the work He is calling you to,” Michael said. “You must trust Him.”

“Will you?” Gabriel asked.

I gulped hard and said, “I will.”

And, that, Dr. Yale is how I became Wonk Eman. My assignment was to retrieve the scrolls from Noah’s ark and bring them to you before Og figured out where they were and destroyed them. When the angels saw that the discovery of the ark was near, they knew it was time and I had to move quickly.

Unfortunately, I do not know what is to happen next except that you must make certain that Og doesn’t steal the scrolls. Be very careful.

Unfortunately, I remain forever,

W
ONK
E
MAN

Samantha took off her glasses and reached for her Blackberry.

“I don’t know how I can help you, Sam.” Jonathan Marks adjusted the earpiece of his iPhone with one hand as he tossed his briefcase on the sofa of his penthouse apartment with the other. He loosened his tie and opened the refrigerator door and searched for something cold. “Maybe it’s time you called the police.”

“There’s no time for that. Wonk Eman has been kidnapped. I’m sure of it. His life is in danger.”

“Because of the scrolls.”

“Why would that be surprising? There’s no way to overestimate their historical value—not to mention what someone would pay to obtain them.”

“Like who?”

“Museums, universities, private collectors—the Vatican.”

“You’re convinced they’re authentic.”

“Define
authentic
. I’m convinced they are originals, and they predate any known relics of religious history.”

“What makes you think Eman is in trouble?”

“He called me, tried to warn me, but we were cut off. I heard the sounds of a struggle before the call was lost.”

“That was a dumb thing for him to do. If he’s been kidnapped, whoever did it now has a direct line to you.”

“That’s why I have to get rid of the scrolls—tonight.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“My plan is to send them to you.”

“No, no, not a good idea.” Jonathan picked the FedEx envelope up from the kitchen table and sat down on his favorite chair, kicking his shoes off.

“Why not?” Samantha turned off the light in her small apartment and peered out the drapes to the streets below.

“Stolen property.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Come on, Sam. I know what you’ve told me. They came to you from an invisible man: no address, no phone number, no e-mail. This has stolen property written all over it. Besides, I told you I was already contacted by someone named Rapha about stolen scrolls.”

Samantha glanced at her watch and closed the drapes.

Not much time. OK, Sam, let’s step it up a level.

“When will you be leaving for Turkey?”

“What?” He dropped the FedEx envelope as black-and-white pictures of an old shipwreck fell out on the floor. He walked to his window and peered out. “Why would I go to Turkey?”

“You’re not the only one with government clearance, Jonathan.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said nervously as he pulled the cord and closed the blinds.

You are a terrible liar.

“Noah’s ark. I know it’s been found. And I know you’ve been engaged by the State Department to examine it.” She juggled the phone as she put on her coat. “And I presume you won’t authenticate any of the artifacts unless you visit the site yourself. How am I doing?”

“Who are you, Sam?”

“Think of me as your guardian angel.” She paused to look at her reflection in the mirror and brushed her dark hair back from her forehead.

Whoever said black skin doesn’t wrinkle was so wrong. As soon as I get rid of the scrolls, Botox.

“Jonathan, you’ve got a puzzle to solve, and I’ve got the missing piece.” She pulled her door closed and locked it. “Can I send the scrolls to you?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ciao, Jonathan. I’ll contact you in a few days.”

C
HAPTER 37

W
HERE ARE YOU
taking me?” I squeaked the words out in spite of being blindfolded with hands tied behind my back. I hoped I wasn’t bleeding from the blow to my head. I’d never been injured since becoming human. I worried about losing blood. What if I ran out?

“To hell,” one of Rapha’s lieutenants answered.

“But why?” I struggled to keep step with their pace so as not to be dragged. “You know I don’t have the scrolls. I’m of no value to you.”

They shoved me into an elevator. I could feel us descending for what seemed like miles. When the doors opened and they pushed me out, the blindfold slipped just enough for me to see we were within the cold, stone walls of an anteroom.

We must still be somewhere inside Ogden Biotech.

The burly one placed his eye to a retinal scanner beside a stainless steel door. Wherever we were, it was heavily secured. He touched his code into the electronic reader with the middle digit of his six-fingered hand. The door slid open without making a sound, then shut behind us as we stepped through. When the door closed they let go of me and shed their outer clothing, revealing bodies covered with coarse hair and scales—humans, but not quite.

I shivered at the cold temperature even as my face flushed like one who stands too close a bonfire on a winter night. One of them pulled the blindfold away.

I wriggled. “Could I just get a free hand to rub my eye?”

“Shut up.”

The room was dark, and I squinted, hoping to see something that would tell me where we were. I knew we were deep underground, because it felt more like a cavern than a room, massive and dark except for the hot glow from a deep pit that boiled like liquid fire.

Nothing like that would exist in an ordinary engineering plant.

A high, gray granite wall bordered the far side of the pit.

“Keep moving,” one of them said as he pushed me along.

“Since I don’t know the way, maybe I shouldn’t lead,” I protested, pulling back a bit.

They shoved me forward a few more steps, and soon I could hear the soft sing-song drone of voices. My eyes adjusted to the low light, and I saw who was doing the chanting. Hundreds of them—humans, but not really. They were grotesque, more like humanoids from a cloning project gone horribly wrong, or something worse. I knew
worse
was the true case. Nephilim, unmistakable by their size and six-fingered hands—half demon, half human—naked and kneeling in rows before an elaborate throne where my worst nightmare, the one I’d feared for centuries, sat in a purple robe sneering at me.

“Bring him here,” the nightmare ordered.

“Kneel before King Og,” said the guard as he pushed me to my knees.

The mutant founder of Ogden Biotech extended a crooked scepter and struck me on the side of my head.

“I gave you a chance to make it easy on yourself, little man. You should have taken advantage of my earlier generosity.”

My terror must have been obvious as my eyes darted about the room searching for an exit.

“Looking for the cavalry?” Og laughed. “No one’s coming to rescue you.”

Michael and Gabriel must know where I am. Why don’t they help me?

Og thumped me again with the scepter.

“I don’t know where the scrolls are.” I tried not to squeal.

“Wrong answer.” He struck again. “I’ll find Samantha Yale, and then I’ll have the scrolls. You’ll find I never ask twice. Too bad. Now you’ll have to make it up to me for wasting my time.”

I raised my eyes to meet the leer of the Nephilim king.

“Worship me.” Og licked his lips.

I was horrified.

No, no, I won’t do it. I can’t do it.

I dropped my chin to my chest and shook my head.

“Come on now. We’re not so different, you and me.”

Og extended his deformed foot and prodded my chin with his toe. It was humiliating and disgusting at the same time.

“I’m no half-breed!” I yelled, surprising myself and immediately wishing I had swallowed my tongue.

“How dare you! Do you think I don’t know what you are? I can see through your feeble human disguise.” Og flamed with rage and jumped to his feet, raising his scepter high over his head.

This is it. I’m dead.

I cringed and held my breath until I almost passed out, but the crushing blow I was expecting did not come. Cautiously, I opened one eye.

“Beg me for mercy, or I’ll kill you.” Og still held the scepter poised to strike me.

Why doesn’t he do it?

“You can’t do it.”
Why am I talking?
I bit hard on my tongue, but it kept right on wagging. “If you could have, you would have when you saw I didn’t have the scrolls.”

“Tell me where they are!”

“I don’t know.” My mind was racing.

Why doesn’t he strike me? Is it because he’s half-human, and I’m an angel? Maybe humans can’t kill angels or demons. That must be it. The natural can’t kill the supernatural. No, that can’t be it. The Romans killed Jesus. I’m so confused.

I ducked back down and held my breath, hoping I would pass out.

“Oh, how I would love to dismember you.” The eyes of the Nephilim king narrowed as he pointed his scepter toward the high granite wall behind the burning pit. “But he’s reserved that privilege for himself.”

I gulped a breath and looked up to see the kneeling humanoids stand up at Og’s signal and raise their arms in worship. They lifted their faces to the top of the wall as their chanting grew louder and the flames from the pit lapped higher.

“Hail, lord Satan. Come, lord Satan.”

Oh, no! Help! Help!
I would have cried out, but I couldn’t make a sound.

Suddenly Satan leapt from the top of the wall and landed not two feet in front of me. I held my breath and tried again to faint.

“Hello, moron,” he sneered. “Have you missed me?”

Failing to faint, I panicked instead and struggled to free my hands but couldn’t. I stood up, stumbled, fell down, and tried to run away on my knees while Og roared with laughter and pointed his scepter at me.

“Satan rules! Satan rules!” Og chanted as the humanoids chanted with him.

Energized by their worship, Satan grabbed me by my fleeing foot and flipped me over. The evil archangel bared his fangs and snapped his sharp claws like daggers as he straddled over me.

“You are a pathetic-looking human. Tell me where she is, or I’ll do to you now what I promised you at the cross.”

“I–I don’t know.”

Satan picked me up and dangled me above the floor between the razor sharp claws of his right hand. One slice and he could sever my neck.

Why didn’t they give me a stronger body? I’m no match for him.

“Tell me!” He squeezed, and the veins of my human neck ballooned as if they might explode. Tiny droplets of my blood oozed onto Satan’s claws. I felt my consciousness slipping away.

Is this how it ends? What happens to me if my humanity dies? Why don’t the angels help me?