The Mayan Resurrection (67 page)

You can’t, Jacob. They’re already dead.

What?

I killed them long ago, back in 2012, when they attempted to use Tezcatilpoca to return to Earth. I entered the serpent’s nexus to greet them. They tried to trick me, but I saw through their ruse and killed both of them.

But
—

God will not allow evil to enter His spiritual domain. So angry at God was Lilith that she refused to accept His terms. She and Devlin created their own netherworld, entrapping the confused, guilt-ridden souls of the
Nephilim
within its borders. Here, they can coerce and torture them, keeping them clear of God’s embracing light while Devlin, using his pure Hunahpu lineage, feeds off their energy to forge his own version of Hell.

Why are the
Nephilim
so filled with guilt?

Because they survived Earth’s holocaust when so many others died. It is my aura that soothes their souls, just as you
soothed mine. Yours was a beacon of love … and love is God’s light. Lilith dampens this light, feeding it to the
Nephilim
in small morsels, crediting its energy to Lucifer so as to keep them under control.

Then the
Nephilim
… they’re dead as well?

Yes. They perished long ago, when they attempted to cross over into the spiritual realm.

Do they even know they’re dead?

No. Neither does Devlin or his mother. They’re absolutely convinced they’re on a mission to resurrect Lucifer. Now, only the truth shall set them free.

But why … why are Devlin and Lilith so convinced they can open up the Gates of Hell?

Devlin can feel an energy surge coming, but it is not our combined presence in this purgatory that he feels.

The supernova?

Yes. Devlin’s Hunahpu abilities allow him to tap into these forces. Even now, his mind is channeling energy, his subconscious giving life to a demon sentry.

Father, what happens when Sirius goes supernova?

Energy levels will spike, and Devlin’s consciousness will give birth to Lucifer—at least his concept of Lucifer—created from the fabric of his own wounded mind.

Then this whole thing … it could actually become a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Not could, Jacob. Remember, humanity is stuck in a time loop. The deed has already happened before.

Are you saying man’s concept of the Devil came from the future?

Looping back into the past … a frightening paradox. With
each journey through the wormhole, the equation becomes more muddied, and mankind drifts farther from God.

Then the past … it will repeat itself again?

The moment the Guardian reenter the wormhole, as they are preparing to do even now. Once more, man’s future will deliver the Devil into man’s Garden of Eden.

Dad … this is all my fault … my selfishness pushed Lilith away, my moment of weakness gave Devlin life.

It’s not your fault. Like me, you were simply a victim of circumstance.

So was Lilith. So were Manny and Evelyn, and the billions who perished back on old Earth. Dad, I have to stop this insanity … I have to end this once and for all!

How?

By defeating Devlin. By saving the
Nephilim.

You can’t defeat Devlin alone, and I cannot leave the nexus to help you.

There’s another way I can succeed, but I need your help. Can you distract Lilith … keep her away from me?

I’ll try. But the sentry, it would take both of us to—

I’ll handle the sentry, you worry about Lilith.

Devlin stands before the lake’s edge, his batlike wings twitching at his sides.

The silvery waters churn, then swirl, pulling in a powerful counterclockwise vortex. Within seconds, the once-placid liquid has become a raging whirlpool, its eye draining, inhaling the contents of the maelstrom to reveal—

—a massive orifice … the third mouth of the serpent.

‘It’s the portal, the portal into Hell!’

Devlin’s subconscious reaches across dimensions of time and space, tapping into the chaotic energy of the red supergiant, unleashing a monstrous ball of crimson flame, which belches upward from the serpent’s hyperextended jaws. The expulsion of energy causes the shoreline to rumble beneath Devlin’s feet, sending the frightened
Nephilim
bowing in fear.

The lining of the serpent’s throat radiates an emerald green hue as it slowly morphs into a rotating funnel of energy.

Father and son link minds, summoning Lilith, whose hideous presence reappears along the periphery of the mist.

I love you, Father.

I love you too, son. Now go.

Jacob’s mind slips out of the nexus.

Michael Gabriel turns to face his eternal enemy.
It’s you and me now, cousin. My son has given me his strength … and I promise you that none of those who were born in the light, begotten in the light, will ever be yours!

Jacob opens his eyes.

He is lying on his back, the binding roots of the calabash tree having loosened around his neck and limbs. He pulls himself out from under the thick bonds and sits up, transfixed by the unearthly emerald light pouring out of the fifth-dimensional pit.

The porous ground oozes as Devlin’s followers dance and jump along the shoreline.

Rising out of the orifice, dripping globs of silvery ooze, is
Devlin’s demonic biped, the one he has fought countless times in the holograph suite, the one who has tortured him in his childhood dreams. Powerful limbs, heavily segmented and smooth, propel its angular, heavily muscled body across the lake’s receding waters.

Devlin greets the sentry his own subconscious mind has created, directing it to the calabash tree. ‘Slay them. Slay them all!’

The silicon demon trudges up onshore, its powerful segmented arms lashing out, its scalpel-like fingers slicing limbs and torsos of the scattering
Nephilim.

The ash-coated beings cry out, blue-tinted plasma gushing from their wounds. Panicking, the throng pushes one another aside, desperate to move out of harm’s way.

‘Jake!’ Dominique rushes over, handing him the sword. ‘Are you all right? Where’s Mick?’

‘Guarding the nexus.’ For the first time in fourteen years, he embraces her tightly. ‘I love you, Mom. I’m so sorry. All these years … I never showed you the love you gave me.’

‘Shh … I love you.’

‘I love you, too.’ Tears stream from his eyes. ‘Stay back … stay close to the tree.’

‘Jake, what are you going to do?’

‘Fulfill my destiny.’

Dominique starts to say something, then gags, the noxious fumes of Devlin’s sentry causing her mucous membranes to sizzle. She cowers behind the alabaster tree, pressing the seal of her nostril hoses tighter.

The demon faces Jacob, its two pupilless eyes blazing
burned yellow, staring right through him. The cruel slit seems to smile as if in triumph, allowing a black goo to dribble from its anthropomorphic mouth.

The being’s poison-tipped sickle-shaped claws slice the air, warning Jacob away from the calabash tree. Jacob tightens his grip on the sword.

Suddenly a gray blur—moving at him with unfathomable quickness—as the creature launches its attack.

Jacob ducks—the demon’s razored claws whistling past his scalp, as the Hunahpu warrior rolls forward and whips his sword around and down, slicing through the back of one of the being’s thickly muscled legs.

The creature cries out, swearing in an incomprehensible language.

Jacob regrips the sword in both hands. For over a decade he has fought a holographic simulation of this being within the nexus. Now, every instinct in his body tells him to remain free of the higher dimension.

The demon circles slowly, biding its time. Mustard yellow ooze gushes from its wounded leg as it plans its next bull rush.

Another blur of gray—the being’s bladed fingertips slashing through the carbon-dioxide-heavy air.

Jacob parries the blow with the blade of his sword, then, executing a flawless pirouette, he whirls around and hacks through the being’s left arm, just above the elbow.

The wounded demon howls in its native tongue, cowering off-balance as the Hunahpu launches his own attack, his sword cutting the air in blurring waves of unyielding figure eights, the sizzling double blade hacking through silicon
flesh, the mustard yellow pus spraying both combatants as Jacob mercilessly shreds torso and limb.

A flutter of wings, followed by a warning shout from Dominique.

Jacob wheels about and drops, stabbing upward, catching Devlin in the abdomen as the Seraph assails him from above.

Devlin flies off, landing awkwardly several feet from the edge of the glowing pit, clutching his ruptured flank.

‘Jake!’ Dominique points.

Blue-tinged blood is gushing from beneath his body armor along the left side of his rib cage, the sentry’s talons having shredded flesh and muscle.

‘Stay back!’ Jacob sucks deep lungfuls of air from his mouthpiece, trying in vain to fight off the effects of the poison. He is lathered in blood and sweat and yellow phlegm, his muscles trembling.

Eyeing Devlin, Jacob turns to the mutilated sentry groveling by his feet. Bellowing a guttural warrior’s cry, the Hunahpu raises his sword and, with a mighty two-handed downward chop, cuts off the demon’s hideous head.

Devlin snarls by the edge of the pit but does not attack.

The frightened
Nephilim
continue to inch toward the calabash tree by the thousands.

Jacob drops to his knees, Dominique catching him as he collapses. ‘Jake, no … oh God, please—’ She clutches his dying form to her bosom. ‘Jake, don’t leave me.’

Unable to speak, he points feebly to the trunk of the alabaster tree.

*

Michael Gabriel’s mind is drowning in an abyss of evil, the Abomination’s scarlet eyes dragging him deeper into her icy soul. Her whisper echoes into his consciousness.
The battle is over, cousin. I shall drain your life force, then carry First-Mother’s carcass over Hell’s threshold.

An eternity of pent-up emotions explodes from the depths of Mick’s crumbling being, piercing the walls of his protective domain—‘Dominique!’

The whisper of her name reverberates in her mind like a tuning fork.

Jacob rasps, choking on his own blood, ‘Free him.’

She lays her son’s head down gently and stands. Grips his sword in both hands. Staggers to the calabash tree, its glow fading fast—

—and thrusts the blade into the trunk with all her might.

The Siren’s scream echoes in Mick’s mind, and suddenly the haze lifts.

The Succubus is clutching her side where a stream of black ooze sprays outward like oil. She wheels around, her demonic vermilion eyes spewing hatred at Mick.

No! Impossible!

Michael Gabriel smiles triumphantly.
Never underestimate the power of love.

Another wound bursts open, this one in her throat. She flops on her back, gagging on her own excrement—

—as an eternity of shackles are stripped from Mick’s being.

*

The heavenly glow of the calabash tree increases its brilliance as white bark melts into gobs of mucuslike goo.

Thrashing about within this rapidly liquefying mound are two figures. One is Lilith, her pale flesh gushing an oily excrement; the second is Michael Gabriel, his torso held from behind, the Succubus’s fingernails digging into his back.

‘Get off my man, bitch!’ Dominique lashes downward with the sword, severing Lilith’s arms at the elbows.

Devlin circles overhead, but refuses to get nearer to the painfully brightening light.

Dominique drags Mick’s lifeless form from the tarry ooze. ‘Jake, he’s not breathing!’ She removes her mouthpiece and forces it past her soul mate’s blue lips and into his mouth.

‘Come on, Mick—breathe!’ She shakes him, then starts mouth to mouth, but is unable to resuscitate him.

‘Oh God, no … not after all this.’ Removing a pony bottle of air from her exoskeleton, she straps it over Mick’s face, then begins CPR—

—as a second white light appears at her back, its unearthly glow warming her skin.

Dominique turns. Her jaw drops open, releasing the regulator. ‘Jacob?’

The brilliant light-force that is Jacob Gabriel rises from his deceased physical form, casting a heavenly glow throughout the spiritual dimension.

En masse, the
Nephilim
gravitate toward the source.

‘Like moths to a flame …’ Dominique whispers.