Noah Primeval (Chronicles of the Nephilim) (18 page)

W
ith that, Uriel turned back and disappeared beneath the surface.

Methuselah pulled out the leather piece tightly packed in his cloak. He opened it up and looked at the cuneiform Noah had scratched into
it.

“You heard the archangel, men. We have a commission, now let us fulfill it,” barked Methuselah.

The pit was unimaginably deep. It was only about ten cubits in diameter, its walls black, and solid, unbreakably hard, unscalable rock. It dropped down immeasurable leagues. It was so deep, one could not see the bottom. But there was a bottom eventually, and it was the furthest depth of Sheol. It was Tartarus, a place of imprisonment at the uttermost distance from the presence of Elohim. Perpetual darkness, impenetrable silence, and absolute isolation. It was said that Tartarus was as far below Sheol as the earth was below the heavens.

Noah was incarcerated at
the very bottom of those depths. He had a flat stone to sleep on. A single oil lamp, refueled only when food was occasionally lowered down in a basket, gave a little patch of light. Noah was, after all, still alive. It would not do well for the forces of darkness to have the Chosen Seed dead, for he would only be replaced by someone else. His captors were so certain of their prison, they took nothing from him, leaving even his dagger on his person
.

Noah looked up toward the heavens, which he could only imagine were so far away it
would not matter what he yelled. But he yelled anyway. “ELOHIM! WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS TO ME?
!”

His voice
did not echo up the leagues of empty cavern walls as one would expect. Instead, it was stifled like whispers in a coffin, as if the words could not go beyond his own hearing, as if the words did not extend beyond his lips. He sat in a vortex where sound and reality swirled right back into him in absolute solitary confinement. Noah had complained for so long about wanting to be left alone. Now he had his wish—to the utmost. He was finally, totally and utterly,
alone
.

And he realized what a complete selfish fool he had been.

He looked up at the wall. He could only see a few cubits into the darkness with the lamp he had. Like a desperate rat, he jumped up, trying to grab a foothold, anything. He fell to the ground in a crumple, weeping. He looked at the brass wrist brace he had worn to remind himself of his wife. He ripped it off and threw it against the wall. The sight of it only multiplied his torment tenfold in this hell.

He pulled at his clothes, ripping them
to pieces in a frenzied anger of self-pity, until he was stark naked. He looked up to heaven again. He was going mad, but he still had his pride.

“I HATE YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME, GOD OF ENOCH! I HATE YOU!”

Of course there was no response.

“ARE YOU DEAF AND DUMB? ARE YOU BLIND?!”

Still no answer.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO DESERVE THIS? ANSWER ME! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE ALL THIS? WHAT HAVE I…”

And suddenly, from deep within his bowels, a groan of despair and resignation overwhelmed him. He fell to his knees weeping in deep sobs. The words he now said were the same, but they now meant the opposite of his original intent. Accusation turned to confession. “What have I done? What have I done to deserve this? I deserve this. I deserve all this.”

He wept his very soul into the void. He was broken. He could say no more. He could only sob bitter tears of repentance.

“Noah,” the whisper said.

Noah stopped.

What had he heard?

He listened for more.

Nothing.

But he
had
heard it.

He knew that voice.

He quickly rummaged through his discarded clothes and pulled out his dagger.

He went to the wall
, carrying his small lamp to light the surface. He began to scratch the rock. Carefully, he carved cuneiform lines that were directions. Then he scratched out the picture of the tebah, the box from his calling in a dream that would not let him go.

He scratched
feverishly. He would not stop. Not even for the food lowered in the basket by some minion of hell leagues above him. He just kept scratching.

Noah did not know how long he had been there. His beard had grown out. He looked up at the wall, dimly lit by his little lamp. The entire wall all around, three hundred and sixty degrees, up to the height of his reach, was covered with scratching. It was the blueprint and directions for the box carved over and over again. The blade in his hand had been worn to the hilt. Noah’s mind was emptied of its obsession. He was bled dry of his pride. He collapsed to the floor in a broken heap.

From above, he heard a distant sound grow louder. It cut through the darkness and split the void. He knew that sound. It was the unmistakable resonance of Uriel’s trumpet. He looked up into the void. He could see nothing.

But he kept looking up in faith.

Moments later, the end of a rope dropped to the floor. It was followed eventually by the figure of Uriel, rappelling down the wall. He landed on the ground with a thud.

Noah looked up at him.

Uriel looked back up from where he came and muttered, “Now
that
is a deep pit.”

“You came back for me,” Noah blubbered, barely able to speak.

Uriel smiled with a big grin. “You know Elohim. He hounds you until you ‘freely’ obey.” He had that hint of irony that Noah had learned to love so dearly.

Noah burst out laughing in tears.

Uriel could see that Noah was a new man. He shared the laugh with Noah, helped his weak companion to his feet, and embraced him.

“What took you so long?” said Noah with an impish smirk on his face.

Uriel grinned back. “There was a little matter of the Rephaim I had to take care of.”

“You took care of seven Rephaim?” asked an amazed Noah.

Uriel gave him a parental scolding look. “Of course not. I had help.”

Uriel grabbed Noah and helped him onto his back
. The angel seized the rope, readying for his long climb back to reality. “We cannot save ourselves, Noah,” he said. “But then I gather you understand that now.”

“Hurry up, will you?” snorted Noah. “I have a box to build.”

Uriel grinned and began his ascent with mighty archangelic speed and power.

Noah was so fatigued, he fell asleep on the climb up. When they arrived at the top, Uriel fell to the ground exhausted. His muscles were cramping, worn out from the climb. He tried to catch his breath and took a huge drink from a wineskin in his belt.

The impact of Uriel’s collapse woke Noah. He looked around the cave they were in
.

T
hree of the giant Rephaim lay with their faces to the ground, bound by cords Noah could not see – no doubt the barely perceptible Cherubim hair he had once been shown by Uriel. Three angelic warriors stood on the necks of the giants. They stepped down and approached Noah. Uriel had to stay seated on the ground.

“Who are they?” Noah asked.

“Archangels,” said Uriel.

The warriors came and hugged the awkward Noah as if he were family.

“This is Mikael, Gabriel, and Raphael,” said Uriel.

The three nodded as they were introduced. They were as handsome and muscle-bound as Uriel—more so. The thought went through Noah’s mind that
his guardian was the least impressive of the bunch. Strange, if he was supposed to be so important as the Chosen Seed. Noah opened his mouth to direct a verbal stab in Uriel’s direction, but all that came out was, “Thank you for your efforts.”

“Just
do not let it happen again,” said Mikael with a touch of humor. “Uriel is already in trouble for his guardianship of you.”

“Or lack thereof,” joked Gabriel.

“Hey,” complained Uriel, “I did just carry him out of Tartarus. That should count for something.”

“You bound the Rephaim,” said Noah surprised.

“I told you,” said Uriel, “It’s a special talent we have. Though not without its difficulties.”

Noah’s forehead crinkled with concern. “Uriel, I thought you said you took care of seven Rephaim. There
are only three of them on the ground.”

“I did not say seven,” corrected Uriel, “You did. It was a detail I considered too petty to correct at the time. But now, I believe it is exceedingly relevant to our safety. We should make good our escape.”

Before they could even move, a bellowing inhuman screech filled the air. A stampeding Rapha burst through the cave opening, headed right at Noah. It limped as it ran.

Mikael and Gabriel leapt into action
. They dove at the Rapha’s shins and tackled it to the ground inches from Noah. The Rapha’s fist came pounding down toward Noah’s head. Uriel pushed Noah out of the way. If Uriel had been at his full strength, it would not have hurt so badly, but he was still weakened from his climb up from that infernal pit with Noah on his back. His muscles were too weak to deflect, he had to absorb. He blacked out.

Now it was Noah’s turn. He pulled Uriel out of the way of the second strike from the beast.

Gabriel leapt on the creature’s back and pulled its head back like a tethered stallion. Raphael and Mikael dragged him away from Noah by his feet.

The Rapha
reached over his head and grabbed Gabriel. He threw the angel against the cave wall with a thundering crash.

These Rephaim were harder than the Nephilim on earth because they were dead and had greater strength in the underworld than in the land of the living. But so did the archangels. Mikael and Raphael
whipped their cords out. They bound the beast before it could regain its balance to get up.

Uriel walked up to the
limping Rapha now bound. He remembered Methuselah’s words to him before he had dived back into the abyss. Give this one his regards. He could not kill this thing, but there was one thing he could do to bring it misery. He reached with both hands and grabbed the Rapha’s eyeballs. With a mighty grip and yank, he ripped out both eyes from their sockets. He threw them into the deep pit out of which he had crawled. The Rapha screamed in agony.

Uriel leaned in and whispered in the monster’s ear, “That was for Methuselah ben Enoch, you son of iniquity.”

The other angels watched Uriel with shock.

H
e pulled Noah toward the entrance of the cave. Noah was afraid of him. That act had seemed brutally out of character for Uriel. But neither the man nor the other angels had been on the journey with Uriel and Methuselah those many generations earlier. If they had been, they would not have considered his action inappropriate at all.

They stepped outside the cave.

They were up a mountainside. A thousand cubits below them countless shades scrambled from the mountain base toward them. The three missing Rephaim trampled over the shades, crushing them indiscriminately on their way up toward the cave entrance. Their hideous screams pierced Noah’s and Uriel’s ears.

Uriel pulled Noah
to the side of the ledge. He looked up. It was a rock climb of at least sixty cubits. Before Noah could register anything, Uriel grabbed him and lifted him up to a rock with a grunt and yelled, “Climb!” Normally, Uriel would have been able to throw Noah ten cubits upward, but not in his present exhausted state. Noah climbed for all he was worth. Breathing hard, Uriel looked up at the wall before him. Well, at least he did not have to carry Noah again. But he had to keep moving. He grabbed a rock and climbed.

Even in his fatigued condition,
Uriel passed Noah. He arrived at the top, just as the Rephaim reached the cave entrance, climbing like spiders toward their prey. They would be only seconds in finishing the climb. Uriel reached down and grabbed Noah’s cloak, pulling him up and over the ledge onto the mountaintop. The ceiling of the watery Abyss hung just ten cubits over their heads.

Uriel
felt there was no way he would be able to do it. He would have to throw Noah up the distance to the Abyss.

T
he Rephaim were already on the ledge and sprinting for them.

Uriel whispered a prayer to Elohim
and grabbed Noah. With every last ounce of strength left in him, he heaved Noah the ten cubits up to the water. The two Rephaim hit him and tackled him to the ground, crushing him in a heap.

In
but a moment, one of them would help the other leap the distance to the water ceiling.

But they would not be leaping
. They were dragged off Uriel by three very riled archangels.

Noah desperately kicked for the surface through the dark waters of the Abyss. He
did not have much air to spare in making it to the top. He did not know where he was or where he would end up. He just had to make it to the surface. His lungs burned. He panicked. The shadowy form of Leviathan swimming in the distance only added to his despair. The fearsome offspring of Rahab. Could it get much worse than this? What difference would it make anyway? He would be drowned by the time the monster reached him.

Noah
had the urge to give up.

Suddenly he felt a shoving from below. Uriel had followed him
. He kicked with superhuman force, thrusting Noah upward. Noah knew Uriel was weak, but the angel seemed to find a hidden source of unending bursts of energy. Noah would have to make a joke about that if they made it out alive.

And he did make it
.

He
burst through the surface, gasping for air. Uriel appeared beside him moments later, sputtering out the next command, “Swim!”

There was
a trading ship sailing their direction. The sailor in the crow’s nest spotted Noah and Uriel as the ship drew near them.

Noah kicked
his way toward the ship with everything in him.

Uriel kept looking over his shoulder for the sea monster.

The monster’s spiny snakelike back broke the surface not a hundred cubits out. It glistened in the sun, gliding toward them, all seven of its heads focused with predator intensity. Seven sets of eyes. Seven sets of razor teeth. It had all the time in the world.

It was said of Leviathan that on earth there was
nothing like it. A creature without fear. Nothing could match its ferocity or its power. Javelins and harpoons all broke upon its armored scales. Even its belly was covered with protection like sharp potsherds. It was said that Leviathan could belch from some of its mouths flame like a burning torch. From its nostrils it could spew smoke as from a boiling pot or burning rushes. It could crush the hull of a warship into splinters. It was said that Leviathan ruled the Abyss with seven times the terror of Rahab.

Knowing all this about the predator, Uriel stayed behind treading water. He could barely keep himself afloat. He
gasped anxiously. He was no match for the jaws of Leviathan even if he had not been so drained of all his vitality. But he would divert its attention from Noah. He could at least do that. He would be a willing sacrifice in mere moments.

But that moment did not come.

He turned around in the water. Leviathan was nowhere to be seen. It had not gone past him, either. He saw Noah being helped up the side of the merchant ship. Uriel swam to the craft, waiting for the worst to come. Leviathan was a creature of chaos, but it was intelligent. It operated with calculation. This did not make sense. Something wicked was coming.

Uriel made it to the ship. The sailors helped him up.

The mast man shouted, “LEVIATHAN!” All hands on deck moved like the wind.

Uriel and Noah looked out on t
he starboard side. Strange. It must have passed under them and circled back.

The armored spine of the dragon broke the surface coming at them. Was it gathering momentum for a strike? A warship would not have a chance against this beast, let alone a merchant trading vessel laden with carnelia, lapis lazuli and pearls
instead of soldiers and weapons. The creature was three times the length of the ship and six times its weight. It would snap the craft like a handful of toothpicks.

T
he sailors did not wait to find out. They trimmed the sail to catch the windward blow Some joined the slaves at the oars to row for their lives. It was all quite futile. They could not outrun the sea dragon and they could not withstand its mighty force. But they refused to resign themselves to fate. They would struggle for life to the very end.

The Captain of the ship
demanded Noah and Uriel’s attention. “What curse is this you have brought upon us all? We will all die! I am a simple merchant!” Terrified anger pulled tight the olive dark skin of his face. His black hair shook as he gestured. “I have not wronged the gods! Why are you here in the middle of the sea? Are you demons?!”

It was one long stream of hyperventilation that matched Uriel’s own
laboring for breath.

Uriel collapsed to the deck.
He could do nothing more. There was nowhere else to run. He rested his head against the mast. His collapse actually stopped the Captain’s string of complaints.

T
he Captain turned his attention to Noah. He spewed a fresh litany of accusations at him. The lookout above interrupted him, yelling down, “CAPTAIN! IT IS BELOW US! LEVIATHAN IS BELOW US!”

The Captain froze.

Noah tilted his head. Below us? What does he mean below us?

Uriel struggled to get up
. They ran to the side of the boat to peer into the water below. The sight struck everyone silent. The ship tacked northward toward the gulf inlet at a breezy pace. Directly below the ship, at thrice its size, gliding along just cubits below the flat hull of the boat swam Leviathan, matching the pace of the ship as if it was escorting the craft back to land.

Leviathan was guarding the seagoing vessel.

The Captain looked at Noah and blurted out a new stream of words. This time, however, the tone was of adoration. “Who is this man whom the gods favor? Where do you come from? Who is your god that we may worship him? Are you a god that you tame Leviathan?”

Noah
listened, astonished.

Uriel grinned
. “It appears I am not your only guardian.”

Noah felt overwhelmed.
Words of poetry rose in Noah’s heart:
The pillars of heaven tremble and are astounded at his rebuke. By his power he stilled the sea; by his understanding he shattered Leviathan. By his wind the heavens were made fair; his hand pierced the fleeing serpent. Behold, these are but the outskirts of his ways, and how small a whisper do we hear of him! But the thunder of his power who can understand?
And Noah knew that Elohim was his guardian who controlled even the sea dragon of chaos.

The
Captain interrupted his pious thoughts, “We are going inland up the river for trade. Will you voyage with us?”

“I see you are a lucky charm as well,” quipped Uriel under his breath to Noah.

Noah said to the Captain, “We will go as far as Erech.”

Noah paused.
He could see that Uriel thought he might still be sidetracked by his old desire for revenge. But he quickly put that thought to rest. “From there,” he said, “we trek into the Zagros Mountains.”

Uriel sighed with deep relief. They were going to look for the Hidden Valley where Methuselah and Noah’s tribal survivors had been sent.
Noah was going to find them and build the box. If they were even alive.