Rise of the Beast (12 page)

“A sea of boiling oil?” said the pilot. “That sounds pretty ghastly. What would a thing like that be like?”

“What can I compare it to?” posed Serena. “Imagine placing your hand into the deep fryer at your local fast-food restaurant all the way up to your wrist. Now imagine keeping your hand in there for a minute, an hour, a day, a year. On Earth, you couldn’t do that, of course. But you could in Hell, because there your flesh is never really destroyed, at least not permanently. It just keeps coming back, regenerating. There is nothing that can be done to your body that can’t be undone given an hour or so, for you are eternal, immortal. Oh, it hurts, hurts like you can’t believe, just like it would on Earth. Thing is, you’re already dead; you can’t die again.”

A strange silence fell over the group.

“Let’s take it a step further. Imagine a deep fryer large enough to swim in. You can’t get out of it, no matter how you try. Your blood, what little remains of it after a while, boils within your veins, but you still can’t die. The flames roar over top of you again and again, charring what was once skin. Your flesh seethes in the heat, becoming a mass of boils. All the while the demons are not far away, working to ensure that you don’t cheat your fate. Once you can imagine that, then you might be able to imagine what it’s like.”

“And this really happened?” asked the pilot.

“It really happened,” confirmed Serena. “It’s only by the mercy of God that I was allowed to return to warn humanity of what could lie ahead. Only the sacrifice of Christ separates us from an eternity like that. Without Him, we’re all doomed.”

It had become an uncomfortable subject. The pilot changed it by drawing the attention of all to a Russian warship in the sea below heading for the Bosporus. From there, the topic changed to the instability of the region. Serena’s adventure did not again emerge as a topic of conversation.

After a rough five-hour ride, they found themselves descending into the small municipal airport of the City of Kirkuk. Chris recalled that this had been the center of some pretty fierce fighting during the Iraq War. It was a lot calmer now, assured the pilot. He’d been flying this run for years without incident. The Kurds were really nice people, not the sort that made religious violence a spectator sport.

As they pulled up to the tarmac, Will Reinhart was there to meet them in one of the company jeeps. After just a few minutes of customs red tape, they were on their way to well number 14. They had chewed up another bit and were
in the process of pulling it out. It would be out soon after they arrived. Then it would be quiet for a while.

It was a long ride to the well site, across cool, rolling desert landscape on a pitted blacktop and then on a gravel road. It reminded Serena a bit of northern Arizona, a sort of magnificent desolation. This was her first trip to the Middle East, and as a precaution against offending the locals, she wore a headscarf, as Will had suggested.

“It’s a mighty strange place out here,” noted Will. “The locals are darned friendly, really. And they like Westerners. Many of them even speak English. But things can change just like that. This is not a Christian nation. They are a bit more tolerant here than in most Islamic countries, but you don’t try to tell them that you’ve found a better way through Christ. Be a Christian by example, but don’t preach it too loudly. The man you reach with the Gospel today might be killed by his own family tonight because of it.”

Serena nodded. It seemed strange to her that so many people found it necessary to suppress the truth. Islam was spreading into Europe at an ever-increasing rate. Much of the opposition to the Christian revival that was now spreading across the continent from west to east had come from the Islamic community. Certain factions had gone as far as to burn churches and kill ministers of the Gospel over it.

It was a nearly two-hour drive to the drill site. They passed the two fences and the checkpoint and headed onto company property. By the time they reached the well, the sun had reached the horizon. They pulled up to the well, its tower rising 100 feet over their heads. It was very quiet. Only noise from the number 15 well a mile across the valley broke the silence.

“We’ve stopped drilling for a few hours,” explained Will. “I gave the first shift the rest of the day off. Second shift won’t be here for another hour or so.”

The three made their way to the platform. Will took some time to explain how roughnecks drilled for oil. It was a tour that was of more interest to Chris than Serena. She was more interested in the spiritual manifestations that had invaded this place. She gazed down into the seemingly bottomless well casing; she listened, but heard nothing. But there was something else, something neither heard nor seen, but felt within her spirit. It was an uneasiness, the feeling that something very bad, yet very familiar, was near at hand, and it was down there.

“I’d like to show you the black liquid,” said Will. “I need to know if, well, you’re familiar with it.”

Serena’s face held an indeed odd countenance. Was it fear? Chris placed his arm around her.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “Let’s see it. It’s what I’m here for. I’m the only one who will know for sure.”

“There was so much of it,” explained Will. “We didn’t know what to do with it. Some was sent off for analysis, but most of it ended up stored in 55-gallon drums over in the warehouse. I’ll drive you over there.”

The warehouse was only half a mile away. It was a large structure, actually, an old aircraft hangar. Daylight was fading as Will switched on the bright overhead lights. This place was filled with great stands of pipe, large wooden crates, heavy machinery, and near the back, at least 100 sealed 55-gallon drums. Will had already pried the lid of one of them loose. He walked ahead and opened that drum for inspection.

Serena cautiously approached, gazing down into the black liquid. The odor hit her; then her finger touched its surface. She almost immediately stumbled back. Chris had to grab her to prevent her from collapsing to the floor.

“Serena,” exclaimed Chris.

At first, she said nothing. Then she wrapped her arms around her husband and started to cry.

Immediately, Will placed the lid on the drum. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’m sorry, Serena.”

“No,” replied Serena, “I had to know. That’s it; oil from the Great Sea of Fire.”

Chris looked into his wife’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she replied, trying to get hold of her emotions. “Yes, I’m sure. The smell, the way it feels. Only, the last time I felt it, it was much hotter. Still, I know that’s it.”

“Sweet Lord Jesus,” murmured Will. “I can’t explain why what you wrote in
your book came to mind the first time I saw it. I’d read it years ago.”

“I’ll never forget that awful stuff,” said Serena, still clinging to Chris.

“I noticed that it doesn’t stick to your skin like oil,” said Will. “It was one of the first things I noticed about it. In that respect it’s almost like mercury.”

“More cohesive than adhesive,” noted Chris.

“Yeah, that’s what our chemist said about it,” said Will. “It has something to do with a specific chemical in it. I don’t remember what it was, our chemist knows. He’ll be here in the morning.”

“I want to go back to the well,” said Serena. “There is something we have to do.”

“Sure, we’ll go there right now,” said Will, leading the way back to the jeep.

Five minutes found Serena standing over the well casing, gazing into the abyss. Daylight was fading fast.

“Second shift will be here in about 20 or 30 minutes,” said Will. “It will give you an idea as to how we lower the bit and collar back into the well to continue drilling. It will take about …”

“Quiet, please,” said Serena. “There is noise coming from the well.”

Will and Chris knelt down by Serena around the well. Yes, there it was; the distant sound of crying.

“Strange,” whispered Chris.

“It’s starting again,” confirmed Will.

It was getting louder and louder, a sound of crying and moaning like people in great pain. Then Serena saw it, a faint blue glow at the bottom of the well, and it was growing brighter.

“We’ve got to get clear! They’re coming again!” cried Will, stepping away from the casing.

Serena stood there like a statue, motionless. “This is what you saw last night?”

“Yes,” confirmed Will. “You really don’t want to stand there when they come through.”

“I’m not standing anywhere else,” said Serena. “This world is in enough trouble. We don’t need any more of those things coming in.”

“You haven’t seen how it happens,” argued Will. “You can’t stop them.”

“You’re right,” confirmed Serena, “I can’t, but the Holy Spirit can. You realized that last night. You stopped one with the name of our Lord. If you can stop one, you can stop them all. I’m not letting them get past.”

“Neither am I,” said Chris, standing at his wife’s side.

Will looked on in amazement and then joined them in a circle about the well. They all joined hands and began to pray. He prayed for faith as much as for anything else.

The glow below grew ever brighter, and with it came a strange cold that touched not the flesh but the soul. Serena especially could feel it. Her mind was carried back to her time as a damned soul in Hell, to the agony of the Great Black Sea of Fire. Her months in that horrible cauldron without end had threatened to rip both her sanity and her humanity from her. It was agony on the grandest of scales. She focused on her prayers, and as she did, her fear was being replaced by something else—anger. But it was not a malicious anger, the likes of which can poison the soul; this was a righteous anger. She prayed for the right words. She found them.

Serena gazed down into the well, its casing now glowing a bright blue. The entity or entities were hovering but 20 feet below her. “Hear me demons,” she said in a loud voice. “You have no right to come to this world. Go back to where you belong, to Outer Darkness, to Hell. I command you as a child of the living God, saved by the blood of Jesus Christ His Son.”

“How dare you stand in our way,” said a deep and unearthly voice that all three in the circle heard. “I know you, Serena Farnsworth, and I know what you were and will be again—a damned soul doomed to the Great Sea of Fire. The sea will soon welcome your flesh once more.”

“You’re wrong,” retorted Serena, confidence in her voice. “I am a daughter of the living God. And let me tell you something; you and your fellows have no dominion over me, none whatsoever. And, for the record, I am Serena Davis, not Serena Farnsworth. Now, leave; go back to your place of exile. Tell your
friends that this portal into our world is closed indefinitely. Now go, or face the consequences.”

There was a moment of silence before Chris spoke. “You heard her, now go.”

“Go, in the name of Jesus,” said Will, who had gained a new boldness.

“Very well,” said the demonic voice. “Enjoy your victory, for it is small and short lived. But mine shall be the final victory. I shall see you grovel in agony before me begging for mercy.”

“Are you deaf as well as stupid?” asked Chris. “Go away!”

The glow faded, as the demonic forces retreated back down the well, vanishing half a minute later. Peace had returned to well number 14.

“Thank you, Jesus,” said Will, who then turned to Serena. “It’s all true, just like you said in the book.”

“Yes,” confirmed Serena. “You didn’t think I made it all up, did you?”

“No,” said Will. “It’s just that I never imagined in my wildest dreams experiencing anything like this.”

“Neither did I,” replied Serena. “I wish I had. It would have saved me six months of pain and uncertainty in Hell.”

“Now you know,” said Chris. “Welcome to the war.”

“Well, what next?” asked Will.

“First of all, you need to become a sort of spiritual sentry here at the well,” said Serena. “I don’t think they’ll come back, not anytime soon at least. But you need to be here, guarding, praying, and having the faith it takes to hold Satan’s forces at bay. You’ve done it twice now; you can do it again.”

“I reckon I can do that,” said Will.

“There is something else,” said Serena. “You and your people have to find out what is going on. Why is this all happening here and not somewhere else? If we knew that, we might have another tool in fighting Satan’s plans. And there is more you need to know as well, things that only Chris and I know, but I think it’s time to bring you in on it as well.”

They headed into Will’s office, where Chris and Serena spoke of the recent
War in Heaven, of their angelic messenger, Aaron, and of the presence of the Prince of Darkness right here on Earth. It left little doubt but that the end times were upon them.

“I’m with you all the way,” vowed Will.

Their meeting was interrupted as two trucks pulled up in front of the trailer and six men in hard hats stepped out.

“It’s the second shift,” said Will. “They will be lowering the new drill back into the casing and continuing where we left off this afternoon.”

“I’d like to watch that,” said Chris. “I have a bit of the jitters after what has just happened.”

“Sure,” replied Will. “I’ll get you a hard hat and overalls if you like. Welcome to oil well drilling 101. I’ll give you the full experience. It will take our minds off of what has just happened, too. You want to join us, Serena?”

“I think I’ll pass on that one,” she replied. “But you guys have fun for right now. I need to go somewhere quiet and rest for a while. It’s been a rough day for me.”

“There’s a comfortable cot in the other room,” noted Will. “We will only be gone for an hour or so. Then I’ll take the two of you to our guest quarters to get some well-deserved sleep. We’ll have you on your way back to Hamburg first thing in the morning.”

Will wasted no time in getting Chris outfitted for his roughneck experience. Then they headed for the brightly illuminated well. Serena watched them for a time. Chris seemed to be having so much fun. He always did. She was the serious one. Her experience in Hell had opened her eyes and fortified her spirit, but it had wounded her too in ways that no one else could see. How could it not? She had endured more concentrated pain and horror than any woman alive. Earth could surely not render up its equal, for death held such experiences in check. In Hell there were no such safeguards. The memories of that place kept her focused and drove her from revival to revival, but they also tormented her. On occasion, Serena’s nightmares took her back there, back to that terrible world beyond the stars.