The eye of the lion

The headlights of the RV were devouring the highway, breaking through the darkness of the night with their powerful beams. It was a half hour since we’d left Aurillac behind, traveling along the N122 freeway towards Puy del la Poche, nestled in the mountains to the east of Aurillac.

Cole had not spoken since his last words in Pierre’s restaurant and he was simply watching the road pass by outside the window, shaking his head from time to time. Finally, he got up off the sofa and came over to where Jessica and I were sitting, checking the list of provisions. He sat down in a nearby chair and looked at us with his pale blue eyes.

“It’s the prophecy...” he declared. “It’s come true.”

Mark, at the wheel, shot him an interested glance in the rear-view mirror. Marina and Aeesha kept quiet and looked at him too.

“What prophecy’s that, Uncle?” asked Jessica.

Cole looked at her with a grave expression.

“The one about the last Pope... and the Apocalypse.”

Jessica and I looked at him in silence.

“St. Malachi...” he continued. “He was a monk in the eleventh century who later became the Arch-Bishop of Armagh, in ancient Ireland. Many miracles were attributed to him, but above all, the gift of prophecy. He prophesied accurately about England’s reign over Ireland and it’s later liberation after seven centuries of war. It all happened as he said. But his most important prophecies were the ones about the Popes. In one of his visions he saw a list of all the Popes of the church until the end of time.

“And that has to do with the last conclave?” I asked.

Cole looked down for a moment, then looked at us and continued.

“The prophecy said: “During the persecution of the Holy Roman Church, Peter the Roman will reign, who will feed his flock in the midst of great tribulations, after which the city of seven hills will be destroyed and the terrible judge will judge the world. The end.”

He looked at us and nodded.

“Petrus Romanus... Peter the second.”

Jessica and I glanced at each other. At the wheel, Mark

shook his head in disbelief.

“It’s obvious that seeing the situation in Europe, they’ve made the election coincide so that they could declare that the prophecy was fulfilled,” he commented.

“Could be...” conceded Cole. But I doubt the Vatican propitiated the death of the Pope and his certain successor, Voquessi, in order to make it coincide with a new Pope and a possible world war.”

Mark was silent.

“What happens after Peter the Roman?” asked Jessica, interested.

Cole looked at her, his eyes somber.

“Armageddon. The end of all things.”

We all fell silent.

Prophecy or not, given recent events, that word gave us the chills. The rain started to pound on the windows of the RV. The night became as black as hell itself.