Rise Of The Nephilim

I must do everything in my power to find Maxine Lauren. She may be the only one who can help me. There’s something very different about that girl. Very different, indeed.

Phillipo waited impatiently for the number four bus, pacing back and forth while repeating the words from the Codices.

He was aware that she would not be there since Maybie had informed him that she’d been missing for two days. However, he hoped that Maybie could give him more insight into what Maxine had been experiencing through these dreams. Perhaps she had confided in her.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that the signs had been there all along in the dreams of the girl, as improbable as it was. He knew he had to analyze these dreams more closely. Besides, what did he have to lose? Nothing.

The bus growled and popped, releasing a burst of air when it pulled up to the bus stop.

He boarded it and walked toward the back, his mind clouded with thoughts. He’d not realized that he’d walked into a den of idle Goths.

A boy—a man really, maybe sixteen—did not waste any time in confronting him. He impulsively rushed to his knees, kneeling directly in front of Phillipo, his hands pressed together as if in prayer, his head up, his eyes fixed on him. He wore the invariable uniform of the town’s Goths: jet black hair, matte black lipstick, and various piercings on his ears, nose, lip, and brows.

“Father, I want to make a confession,” the boy said, wearing a wily smile.

The others giggled and sniped under their breaths.

“If you have something to confess, boy, you are right to do it now, for the end is coming.”

Silence filled the space between them.

The boy laughed, highlighting the red scar on his face and the thin pieces of white tape over it.

“Dude, you’re crazy,” he said, now standing.

“No, not crazy. Sane. If you want to save your soul, confess all your sins now and pray for forgiveness. All of you.”

“Forgiveness from who?” asked another Goth, a teenage girl. “God? God is dead! The Dark Dragon is alive! Can’t you tell? Just look around, Father. What do you see?”

An explosion of laughter filled the bus. But fear had silenced those with broken limbs and fresh scars. Scars made by the razor edges of Āmand’s wings in the tunnels.

“You’re wrong. God is not dead. In fact, he’s very much alive. Therefore, I’m warning you. Confess now, and your souls will be saved!”

“We know where he lives,” said another teenage female who’d been sitting silently the entire time.

The bus came to a stop, and the Goths immediately began their exit.

“Wait! What is the Dark Dragon?” Phillipo asked.

“We are already living in hell, Father,” said one of the goth males, the last to dismount.

The bus driver closed the double-glass doors.

“Dear Lord, please save us,” Phillipo mumbled quietly. “Save us all.”

He heard his cellular phone ring, knowing that the caller had to be either Father Davis or Father Farley. And he knew exactly what they wanted:for him to return to the church.

Mass!

He looked at his watch.

I’m scheduled to serve Mass in less than half an hour, he thought, his elbows on his knees, his other hand pulling through his hair. He tried to decide what was more important: serving Mass or sticking to his original plan. He’d planned to do a sermon from Matthew 4:The Sermon on The Mount.

No. I will change it to Philemon: The Sermon of Repentance . . . yes. That’s the answer; I will reach at least some of the people without being labeled crazy. Yes. That’s the answer. Therefore, Mathias had appeared before me: I have the words of John in my possession. Therefore, it’s myresponsibility through my position to bring as many souls as possible to repentance. Now I understand what I must do.

Once he’d completed his duties at St. Magnus, his plan was to visit Maybie as soon as possible.

With some urgency, he pulled the stop cord down toward him. Heeding his request, the driver stopped along a curb after crossing a T-intersection. Phillipo retrieved his cellular phone and called St. Magnus Parish, where he confirmed that he would be there in time to serve mass.

JUNE 7TH

What have I done?

Maybie wept as she sat on the edge of Maxine’s bed hunched over, her face cupped in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. Phillipo sat with his head down in a chair across from her, his eyes filled with sadness.

The desire to question her about Maxine’s dreams filled him. In his gut, Phillipo believed that Maxine’s dreams somehow held the key to the fate of Earth. However, under the current circumstances, he’d decided that leaving his probing for later would be best. She was not in any shape to answer a barrage of questions about some dream.

The waiting had been agonizing. Maybie had exhausted all her efforts:she’d contacted family members, called on kids from Maxine’s school, teachers, even the kids like Phillip Jack who had enjoyed mocking her time after time. The thought of foul play by someone like Phillip Jack exacting revenge had even entered her mind. The police that remained, along with the neighbors, searched the area. In her heart, she knew that Maxine would not have just disappeared without saying a word. Yes, she had once told her of her interest in going to California for a while after graduation to spend some time with David, but she would have at least said goodbye.

She would have said goodbye.

The blue spaghetti strap dress that Maybie had bought for Maxine to wear to her graduation ceremony remained draped over the chair in a corner of the room. Phillipo watched her as she sat up and walked over to it; she stroked it gently as if soothing her daughter. Maybie loved Shane with all her heart, but she’d had a special bond with Maxine.

She felt Maxine had always been able to discuss anything with her. And more importantly, Maxine was the product of a love from so long ago―an unlawful love, since she’d already been married to David. And it was that love, that secret love, which had eventually torn her marriage apart, for David had been unable to match Āmand’s unbridled affections.

“Father, why must children suffer for the sins of their parents?” Maybie asked, thinking about her indiscretion.

He looked at her with some confusion.

“We are all accountable for our sins, my dear―every one of us.”

“I don’t know about that, Father.”

He gave no response, accepting that it was only her grief speaking through her.

Maybie found it impossible to accept the fact that Maxine had just gotten up while they were still asleep and walked out without saying anything to anyone. It just did not make any sense.

What concerned her the most, though, was the thought of her possibly being violated or murdered by the growing number of derelicts and lepers roaming the streets. It used to be that, if you committed a crime against another, there would be some consequences. Some type of punishment. Now, consequence was just a word. Not a promise, for even the few honest law enforcement officers who remained, feared for their own lives and the lives of their families. They feared the outlaws who would laugh in the face of consequence.

It dawned on her that Maxine might have been taken.

What if Āmand took her? What if he had come back for her just as he said he would one day―his last words to me?

She’d tried to erase those words from her memory. She’d never taken them seriously, for she believed that he was just a wanderer―not capable or ready to commit to anyone or anything but himself, least of all a child.

She walked around Maxine’s room weeping, her body trembling, willing her daughter to come home. I must tell David the truth. The whole truth. Yes, he knew about the affair. However, he did not know about the promise to take Maxine. Damn it, this is my fault.

“Father, I want to make a confession,” she said, now facing him directly, her body limp, eyes dark and sunken.

“Come, come. Yes. Of course,” he said. He took her hand and gestured for her to sit facing him. He held her hands in his, leaned forward, and said, “Take your time. God is patient and always has his ears and heart open for us.”

She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, thinking of what she should say next. That she was unfaithful to her husband? That she enjoyed being unfaithful to her husband? That she lied to her child her entire life? Or was it that she was the reason her marriage and family had been destroyed?