This Present Darkness (71 page)

TAL REMAINED STEADY
and kept watching. Guilo grew more and more restless, pacing about, looking from one end of the town to the other.

“Soon the perimeter will be entirely enclosed,” he said. “They will have enveloped the entire town, and there will be no escape.”

“Escape?” said Tal, his eyebrows raised.

“Purely a tactical consideration,” Guilo replied with a shrug.

“The moment is approaching very quickly now,” said Tal, looking toward the college. “In just a few minutes, all the players will be in their places.”

THE DEMONS IN
the conference room could feel
him
coming, and they braced themselves. The hair bristled on their arms, necks, and backs. A darkness, a crawling cloud of evil was coming down the hall. Quickly each one looked himself over to make sure nothing was out of place, that his appearance was impeccable.

The door opened. They froze in respect and homage.

And there he stood, the Strongman, nothing less than the most horrible nightmare.

“Good day to you,” he said.

“Good day to you, sir,” the regents and lawyers answered Alexander Kaseph as he entered the room and started shaking their hands.

ALF BRUMMEL HAD
no desire to meet up with Alexander Kaseph. He even waited to take a different elevator. When the elevator opened on the third floor, he peeked to see if the coast was clear before he stepped out. Only after he heard the big door to the conference room down the hall click shut did he make his way down the hall himself, going very quietly to Room 326.

He stood for a moment outside the door, listening intently. It was pretty quiet in there. The session must be underway. He turned the knob very slowly and cracked the door just enough to see in. Yes, there was Langstrat in meditation, her eyes closed. She was the only one Brummel was worried about, and for now she wasn’t looking.

He stepped into the room quietly and found a chair halfway around the circle from Langstrat. He looked around, sizing up the situation. Yes, they were calling for a certain spirit guide. He had never heard this particular name before. This entity must be some new personage brought in for the project today.

Oh no. There was Sandy Hogan, also meditating. She was calling the name as well. Well, Brummel, what do you do now?

OUTSIDE, THE REMNANT
was ready for orders. Hank and Marshall gave them a very brief rundown on the present situation, and then Hank concluded, “We really don’t know what we’re going to encounter in there, but we know we have to go in, at least to see if we can locate Sandy. There’s no question that this is a spiritual battle, so you know what you all have to do.”

They all knew, and they were ready.

Hank continued, “Andy, I’d like you and Edith and Mary to take charge out here and lead in the prayer and worship. I’ll be going inside with Marshall and the others.”

Marshall conferred with Bernice. “Stay here and keep an eye out for our visitors. The rest of us will go in and see if we can find where this meeting is taking place.”

Marshall, Hank, Kevin, and Susan went into the building. Bernice went to a vacant spot on the steps and sat down there to watch and wait. She could not help but observe the Remnant. There was something about them that felt all too familiar, and very … well, very wonderful.

RAFAR AND HIS
ten escorts had been in the lounge for quite some time now, just listening and watching. Finally Rafar stepped up behind Langstrat and sank his talons deep into her skull. She twitched and gagged for a moment and then slowly, hideously, her countenance took on the unmistakable expressions of the Prince of Babylon himself.

“Indeeeeeeeed!” said Rafar’s deep, guttural voice from Langstrat’s throat.

Everyone in the room shuddered. Several eyes popped open with a start, and then widened at the sight of Langstrat, her eyes bulging, her teeth bared, her back arched like a crouching lion. Brummel could only cringe and wish he could disappear into his chair before that thing spotted him. But it was looking at Sandy, drooling.

“Indeeeed!” the voice said again. “Have you come together to see your vision truly fulfilled? So it shall be!” The creature sitting in the chair pointed a crooked finger at Sandy. “And who is this newcomer,
this searcher for the hidden wisdom?”

“S—Sandy Hogan,” she answered, her eyes still closed. She was afraid to open them.

“I understand that you have walked many pathways with your instructor, Madeline.”

“Yes, Rafar, I have.”

“Descend within yourself again, Sandy Hogan, and Madeline will meet you there. We will wait.”

Sandy had only a fraction of a second to wonder how she would ever be able to relax herself into an altered state. Then a slimy, deathlike spirit behind her clapped his bony hand down on her head, and she went under immediately. Her eyes rolled upward, she wilted in her chair, and she felt her body dissolving away, along with her rational thoughts and nagging fears. All outside sensations began to vanish, and she was floating in pure, ecstatic nothingness. She heard a voice, a very familiar voice.

“Sandy,” the voice called.

“Madeline,” she answered. “I’m coming!”

Madeline appeared deep within some endless tunnel, floating forward, her arms outstretched. Sandy moved toward the tunnel to meet her. Madeline came into sharp focus, her eyes sparkling, her smile like warming sunshine. Their hands met and grasped each other tightly.

“Welcome!” said Madeline.

Alf Brummel watched it all happen. He could see the dopey, ecstatic look on Sandy’s face. They were going to take her! All he could do was sit there and fidget and shake and sweat.

LUCIUS FLOATED SILENTLY
down through the roof of the Administration Building and landed on the third floor, folding his wings behind him. He could hear Rafar bellowing and boasting in the lounge; he could hear the Strongman going through his preliminaries in the conference room. So far they had no fears or suspicions.

He heard the elevator opening down the hall and then the footsteps of several people. Yes, this would be Hogan the hound and the praying man, Busche, and the one person the Strongman would be the most loath to see alive: the Maidservant.

Suddenly there was a flutter of wings and a frantic gasping. A demon shot down the hall toward him, wings rushing, his face filled with terror.

“Prince Lucius!” it cried. “Treachery! We’ve been tricked! Hogan and Busche are free! The Maidservant is alive! Weed is alive!”

“Silence!” Lucius cautioned.

But the demon just kept spouting, “The saints are gathered and are praying! You must warn the Ba-al—”

The demon’s ranting ended abruptly in a choked gargle, and he looked at Lucius with his eyes full of horror and questions. He began to shrivel. He clawed at Lucius in an effort to remain upright. Lucius pulled his sword out of the demon’s belly and swung it in a fiery arc through the ebbing body. The demon disintegrated, dissolved in a puff of red smoke.

OUTSIDE ON THE
front steps, even as passersby stared and gawked, the Remnant was in prayer.