Demonic Designs (To Absolve the Fallen) (37 page)

“Why do you think I chose this scenery?” James asked.

“I don’t know,” Alex replied.
 
“Is it because you wanted me to remember where I came from?”

“No.
 
We’re here because you’re familiar with it.
 
You need to know what you’re getting into before you can know how to affect it.
 
Many of the people you will be dealing with rely on very old ideals to protect them.
 
These ideals serve as a safety net.
 
It’s important for you to understand the Bible because the people whom you will be speaking to will require that you give it some credence.
 
Just like these surroundings make you feel strong, so do the old messages from the Bible make others feel strong.
 
They’re made resilient from the knowledge that the Word of God has lasted so long and that so many have believed in its teaching.”

“But,” Alex said, “I don’t believe in a lot of the Bible.”

They stopped walking.
 
“You don’t have to,” his father confided, smiling.
 
“What you have to do is appeal to what people
do
believe in.
 
You’re going to find that few people hold to all of the precepts of the Bible in literal ways.
 
It must be difficult to fathom that a God who would send His only begotten son to die for everyone’s sins would send people to everlasting torment.
 
I’m sure people have a hard time accepting that there is a God who is omniscient, but He felt it necessary to create angels who would become adversaries.
 
Matt has wondered why God would forgive Moses for murder but damn a man who has sex with another man.
 
By and large, it is the laws of those who claim to speak for me that humans believe, not the themes.
 

“The Bible is archaic, and you might feel it’s more trouble than it’s worth.
 
People argue and die over it.
 
There are gospels of the disciples of Jesus that never made it into the book Christians place so much faith in.
 
Men, who believe themselves to be righteous, use it to judge and harm others in the name of God.
 
And, of course, most of the world doesn’t care about the book at all.
 
I could have a similar conversation with you about any religion and change the names of important people and their written records; the moral would be essentially the same.
 
Christianity is relevant to you.
 
You must persuade all people that you speak for God.
 
Then, they will listen to you no matter what the Bible says.”

“Then, you’re telling me that the Bible isn’t your message to mankind?”

“No,” came the reply.
 
“There is at least a little truth in any holy book.
 
What I am saying is that people will, invariably, interpret the Bible, and anything else, to say what they want to hear.
 
You need to seek out the good in the human soul and minister to that.
 
They will listen.”

“They’ll call me a heretic.”

“Yes,” James Tanner agreed, “some will.”

“Humanity is known for killing people who teach something different than what has been traditionally taught.”

“Yes, it is well known for that.”

Alex looked expectant.
 
“So are they going to kill me?”

His father looked solemn.
 
“If you knew that death was a price that would have to be paid, would you change your mind about the path you have chosen?”

Alex looked away.
 
“You would throw me on the sacrificial alter like you did Jesus.”

“I do not make those decisions.”

“But,” Alex persisted, “you have the power to change it.”

“I also have the power to make everyone act in exactly the same way.”

“Then, why don’t you?” Alex demanded.
 
“Wouldn’t it be easier that way?”

“I should make everyone listen to you and love you.
 
Right?”

“Yes!” Alex exclaimed.
 
“How is that different than giving me the ability to understand and influence them?”

“Alex,” James Tanner returned, “you will, one day, be very powerful.
 
But you will never be able to force or remove faith.”

“What’s the point in losing those you love, those who have vowed to work for you?
 
Your followers get martyred all the time, for your sake.
 
What do you do for
their
sake?”

His father closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them.
 
His words came very slowly, as if pained, “I support their free will.”

“No!” Alex yelled.
 
“That’s a cop-out.
 
You’re just a greedy dictator who will never descend from his throne, on high, to tell us common folk what’s on his mind.
 
You want us to guess your riddles, play your games and even die for you.
 
What will you do in return?
 
You’ll make it sound like it was our idea to begin with.
 
It’s no wonder that people have to listen to others as they interpret your word, you won’t tell them anything.”

“You don’t understand--”

“I think I do understand,” Alex interrupted.
 
“You’re selfish.
 
The entire universe, it’s all about you, isn’t it?
 
But, if that’s true, then why do you need me?
 
Why must I die for you?”

His father stared at him and then, without malice, bitterness, or disappointment responded, “How like Jesus you are...”

They both stared at each other for what seemed like eons.
 
Then, a voice surrounded them.
 
It was soft; it was familiar.
 
It was Matt:
You may as well just come to terms
.

“What was that?” Alex asked.

James Tanner shrugged, “Someone who is coming to terms, someone who needs you.”

Alex felt himself being lifted into consciousness.

***

The sun was setting.
 
Matt regarded the Las Vegas skyline with mixed emotions.
 
The buildings and the smog distorted the sunset in a way that Matt felt should be illegal, but he still admired the beauty of the event, though the sight was much better from Jeremiah’s mansion.
 
He missed that compound.
 
Like that rickety warehouse in Texas, this apartment did not seem very defensible; it almost surprised him that there hadn’t been any attacks yet.
 
This was about the most vulnerable that Alex had been since Jeremiah introduced himself to the boy.

Matt looked back at Alex.
 
He was asleep on the couch.
 
They’d been watching a movie, but, apparently, the day had been too rough for him—he hadn’t even made it halfway through the action flick.
 
It was a kung-fu movie, and it was in subtitles, so Matt could see how it might not appeal to everyone.
 
And, Matt admitted to himself, it probably seemed a little corny.
 
But he was sure that it would seem less corny to someone who lived in a world of prophets and demons.

Alex looked like he was truly at peace, lying there.
 
Matt wanted to stare at him for hours.
 
He wanted to pull up a chair, sit across from Alex and vigilantly protect this priceless and vulnerable treasure.
 
Matt smiled, looked at his feet and then turned back to the outside world.

“No,” he said to himself.
 
“It can never be.
 
You may as well just come to terms.”

He knew he was torturing himself by even being in the same room with Alex, but he knew he could draw the line and hold it.
 
Alex was destined for someone else, and Matt would make sure he lived to find that person.
 
He heard stirring behind him.
 
He turned back around, and Alex was rubbing his eyes as he sat forward.

“Did you say something to me?” Alex asked.

“No,” Matt replied, turning back to the fading sunset.
 
“I was just basking in the beauty of it all.”

Alex looked at Matt’s back and considered what he should say.
 
“I was speaking with God.”

Matt spun around with a sudden look of intrigue.
 
“What?”

Alex’s eyes drifted down, and he stammered, “I-I think that God told me that--uh--that I would die.”

Matt looked concerned.
 
“But, Alex, everyone dies.”

“No,” Alex insisted, “I think God meant that I would die for this cause.”

At that moment, Alex felt a powerful weight bear down on him.
 
It seemed like someone had knocked the wind out of him and sat on his chest to make sure he couldn’t fully breathe.
 
Matt stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying.
 
Alex’s face had gone flush, and he was starting to shiver.

“Alex, you look sick.”

Alex’s teeth were chattering, and his heart was beating really fast.
 
“Yeah.
 
I d-don’t feel too g-good, either.”

Matt pulled out a cell phone.
 
“You need to lie back down.
 
I’ll call Jeremiah.”

Alex waved his hand.
 
“No,” he pleaded.
 
“D-Don’t.”

“Then, what should I do, Alex?
 
You look like you’re having an overdose.”

“He d-doesn’t care, Matt,” Alex said, looking up at him, desperately.
 
“We’re p-puppets.”

“Alex, Jeremiah’s going to care if you’re sick.”

“N-No, Matt—God.”

Alex’s vision blurred, and he became dizzy.
 
Vertigo hit him, and his head fell back onto the couch.
 
Then, everything went black, but he was still semi-conscious.
 
He still identified himself, and he could feel the cold, but he couldn’t feel anything else.

Alex had meant to cry out, but it came more like a whisper, “Matt, I can’t s-see you.”

“I’m here,” Matt replied, swiftly moving to the couch.

He took Alex’s hand, and a convulsion swept through the boy.
 
It looked like Alex tried to scream, but he couldn’t.
 
His mouth just opened; he exhaled, and his mouth closed again.
 
Matt tried to reclaim his hand, but Alex had a firm grip on his hand and wouldn’t let go.
 
His other hand flipped open the phone and hit the speed-dial for Jeremiah.
 
Then, Matt, too, became dizzy.
 
He fell to his knees.
 
There was a cold chill that seemed to freeze the prophet in place.
 
His body tensed up.
 
Matt sensed his strength seeping out of him.
 
In moments, he lost consciousness and fell to the floor.
 
His hand and Alex’s were still locked.

***

Elizabeth had explained the situation to Marla as best she could.
 
Marla didn’t try to make too much sense out of what was happening.
 
After she had gone through all the details, some several times, Liz admitted that she needed to sleep.
 
The day’s events had exhausted her.
 
And she did sleep, but it wasn’t restful.
 
Finally, after a couple hours of tossing and turning, she went to the dining hall, and she was happy to see that Marla was there, too.

Marla looked happy to see her, but she was definitely concerned.
 
She motioned for Elizabeth to sit down, and she called for Martin.
 
The maître d’ responded to the beckoning, and after he had taken Liz’s order, he left again.