Spirit Fighter (Son of Angels, Jonah Stone) (18 page)

Jonah knew what he had to do. He aimed the arrow down and let it go. It buried itself deep in the monster’s skin and disappeared.

The next few seconds moved in slow motion. They quickly jumped off, as the creature reeled its head back and wailed in pain. From its mouth came an awful gurgling sound, and it somehow pulled itself back through the opening. Floundering around on the bridge like a beached fish, it finally flopped over the edge. They heard a huge splash in the water below, and then nothing but silence.

Jonah looked at Eliza as they panted and dusted themselves off. She was busy cleaning and straightening her glasses.

“Good thinking, Eliza,” he said gratefully. “You’re crazy, though.”

“Thanks,” she said, and hugged him tightly around the neck.

“Okay, okay,” he said, blushing. “Let’s see if we can find Henry.”

They hurried over to the edge of the bridge and peered over. All they could see were white bubbles.

“Henry!”

Jonah’s voice was unanswered.

Eliza screamed down at the water. “Henry!”

They watched, waiting for the angel to hurtle out of the river, a silver flash in the pale morning light.

No movement. The waters were still again.

Sitting down on the cold asphalt, neither spoke for a few minutes.

“Do you think he’s . . . ?” Eliza couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Angels can’t die, remember?” said Jonah. “He has to be . . . somewhere.” But he had no idea where.

“What was that thing?”

Eliza thought for a second. “A leviathan, if I’m not mistaken. It was a sea monster written about in the Psalms, and I think the book of Job. It was a creature created by Elohim, and there was a day when it ruled the sea.”

”Those creatures are still around today?”

Eliza shrugged her shoulders. “Think about it. We’ve been under attack by a pack of wild cougars, a talking snake, and now the leviathan. It looks like Abaddon can make these animals do what he wants them to do.”

“I’m not sure anyone could make that thing do what he wanted,” said Jonah. “But I’ll say this—Salmir knew exactly what he was doing.”

Eliza threw a pebble across the bridge and watched as two teenagers on mountain bikes crossed in front of her. They had no idea.

“I don’t want to be the know-it-all sister here,” she said quietly. “But I told you it was a bad idea to follow that snake. He led us onto this bridge, where we almost got killed by a biblical sea creature, and who knows how many other monsters are out there. And we aren’t one step closer to finding Mom.” She tried to control it, but her voice cracked with emotion.

Jonah sighed. She was right. They weren’t any closer to finding their mother. And now Henry was gone, and he was their only guide in the hidden realm. Jonah was on the verge of despair himself. If they couldn’t pull together, then there was no way they were going to be able to rescue their mother.

The words of their guardian angel flooded his mind. “Remember what Henry said back there? That we are to walk by faith, not by sight?”

She brushed a hot tear from her eye with her sleeve. “Yeah. So?”

“Well, maybe if that’s going to happen, we actually ought to, you know, ask Elohim,” he said. He had never been one to pray out loud with other people, not his sister, or anyone else. But right now, it seemed like the right thing to do.

Actually, it seemed like the
only
thing to do at the moment.

Eliza nodded and they bowed their heads just as the sun peeked through the clouds over the New York City skyline.

SIXTEEN
J
ONAH’S
V
ISION

I
mmediately words began forming in Jonah’s mind, almost as if the inside of his eyelids were a movie screen that he was viewing. Words from a passage of Scripture that he had learned long ago in Sunday school filled his mind.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord
.

The words were like ice pouring into the boiling waters of his thoughts. Nothing could come between him and Elohim. Even here, with evil enemies at every turn, they were inseparable.

As quickly as the words had appeared, they fell away, but they were replaced by another image that flickered to life. It was as if he were looking through a skylight.

He was peering down from the ceiling of a room with a dirty concrete floor and tile walls. All the way around it were people lying in hospital beds, tied down with leather straps, then covered with some sort of electrical shield that reminded him of the one that Eliza could create. There were seven in all, and one last bed sat empty, as if reserved for another unlucky prisoner.

The Fallen were everywhere, some standing in front of the nephilim, on guard. Others congregated in the middle of the room in small groupings. The guards held spearlike weapons and sneered at their captives. The others paced, as if they were anticipating something. They all appeared to be waiting.
One of the nephilim must not have arrived yet
, Jonah thought.

Then the image drew closer to the captives, like a camera zooming in. He closed in on one particular nephilim, and his mother’s face came into full view. Jonah’s heart leapt into his throat. Her face was battered and bruised, a cut across her cheek. Her clothes were torn, and her wrists and legs were bleeding from the straps that held her against the bed. Judging by how she looked, she had apparently fought against the restraints for a while, but had finally given up. Her head was turned to the side, and in a panic he wondered if she was still alive. But as the image drew closer still, so that now he seemed to be floating just above her, he saw her head move and her eyelids flutter.

And then she looked up, right at him, with the same clear green eyes he had looked into every day of his life. For several seconds they stared at him, the eyes of his mother, and somehow, he felt that she could see him too. Eleanor held her gaze as long as she could, and then her head collapsed back onto the bed. Her eyes closed again.

“Mom!” he shouted. “Mom, it’s Jonah! I’m right here!” He reached out to her, but he began to move backward. He felt a tug on his hand, and suddenly he was passing through a gray fog and couldn’t see anyone. He tried with everything he had to reach out to her and grab her, but the tug pulled him away as the image in front of him disintegrated like dust.

Another scene flashed across his mind now. He was flying over an expanse of trees, ponds, open green fields, and pathways. Like a bird, he soared just over the treetops, landing in the middle of the largest grass lawn he’d ever seen. To his left, in the distance, he saw the outline of tall buildings. And directly ahead of him, the turret of a castle rose above outstretched branches. As quickly as he had landed in the field, however, this image also began to fade.

Within seconds, it was gone.

He felt a tug again, and he was hurtling backward.

A moment later he was back on the Brooklyn Bridge.

She’s alive. Mom is still alive
.

“Jonah!” Eliza’s voice sounded like it was a football field away, but came rushing toward him quickly. “Jonah! Are you there? What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he said groggily. “That was weird.” The vision reminded him of the dreams he’d been having lately. Except ten times more vivid. He rubbed his eyes and saw Eliza, visible again in the morning sunlight, looking more like their mother than he’d ever noticed.

“I saw Mom.”

Eliza leaned in closer to Jonah. “You
saw
her?”

“As clearly as I see you,” Jonah answered. “I closed my eyes to pray, and suddenly it was like I was . . . transported to where she is, right now.”

“Like a daydream, or something?” Eliza said, raising her eyebrows.

Jonah answered a little more harshly than he wanted. “No, I was not daydreaming! I saw her, and it was really her! Not some part of my imagination going wild.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, backing down. “Just tell me everything you saw.”

Jonah told her all he could remember, down to every last detail about the condition of his mother, the room, and the other nephilim. He described the Fallen, how many there were and what they were doing.

Eliza focused on him intently. “If what you saw is accurate, not just a daydream—”

“It’s accurate,” Jonah interjected. “I know it is.”

“—then maybe it means we still have time,” she continued. “It sounds like all of the nephilim, including Mom, are still alive, and waiting for the eighth and final one to arrive.”

“I saw something else,” Jonah said, closing his eyes tightly to try and remember all the details. “I was flying over a park, with trees and ponds. Then I landed in a huge field. I saw some really tall buildings in the distance. And then what looked like a . . . castle.”

They thought about what this could mean for a minute. Eliza suddenly snapped her fingers.

“It’s a park, with skyscrapers in the distance!” she said. “Don’t you see? This is a clue. We know where we need to go next!”

Jonah stared at her blankly.

“Come on,” she said, jumping up and patting the smoke out of her jeans. “A huge park, in the city—”

“Central Park!” Of course.

It actually seemed to make sense. Except for the castle part, which neither of them had an answer for. But that didn’t matter right now. They were reenergized by Jonah’s vision, and they bounded off the bridge and back toward Manhattan. If he was right, then their mom was still alive, and they had time. Renewed hope and strength fueled their footsteps.

“Henry’s not here, so I guess we’re riding the subway,” Jonah said as they stepped onto the pavement.

Eliza remembered the weaving rocket ride he had taken them on earlier. “I wouldn’t ride with him again anyway,” she said. “But, Jonah, I hope he’s okay. Wherever he is.”

They found a subway station the next block over and descended underground. A dozen people were waiting for the next train.

They both stood and pondered the subway map for a few minutes. It was a spiderweb of lines, colors, and dots.

“It looks like to get to Central Park, we need to take this line here, then make a switch here.” Eliza pointed at the map as she spoke.

The train echoed through the black cavern and finally screeched to a halt in front of them. Jonah hopped on, but not before two people walked right through him. Each time he felt a burst of electricity run through his chest. Each of them gasped and paused for a second before they kept walking.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that,” he muttered.

The car was almost half-full, and they stood at the back, against the wall. Jonah noticed that most of the passengers had a soft flicker of light coming from their chests—what Henry had called the image of God. A few looked more like Jonah and Eliza, a brighter light extending out to their fingertips.

The ones who have trusted in Elohim and accepted His love into their lives
, Jonah thought. He was still amazed to see how evident it was here in the hidden realm. How real it all was.

The train made three stops before it was their turn to exit. They walked out of the train and into another underground station in order to make the transfer to one that ran north to Central Park. An express train bound for Grand Central Station came and picked up the waiting passengers, until they were the only ones left inside the cavernous waiting area.

A chill blew through the empty tunnel. “It sure is quiet in here,” said Eliza, suddenly shivering.

“Yeah, and spooky too,” Jonah said, listening for the next train.

He was peering down the tracks and into the dark tunnel when he heard a pattering sound. He watched as a rat appeared, scampering out of the tunnel.

“Wonder where that little guy is running to so fast?” Eliza said.

Another one followed him, and then three more. They scattered in all different directions, trying to find a crack to crawl in.

“I might not be a rat expert, but I don’t think they’re running
toward
anything,” Jonah said. “They look like they’re running
away
from something.”

Just then, a group of at least a hundred rats poured out of the subway tunnel, climbing on top of each other, trying desperately to scale the walls. They disappeared down the other tunnel.

“That’s strange behavior for rats, don’t you think?” she said.

Something else was moving in the tunnel behind them, slowly clacking along. Eliza glanced at Jonah, who shifted uneasily.

Clack. Clack. Clack
.

Jonah froze. “That sounds like—”

“—a cane.” Eliza was thinking the same thing.

And then a pink-flowered dress came into view, a hunched-over old woman walking down the middle of the track, coming out of the tunnel.

“Can I get another hand with this map, dearies?” Her frail voice echoed through the station, and high-pitched laughter split their ears.