Philip Simpson - Tribulation

Sam cursed himself under his breath. He should have known this would happen. The last time the Antichrist had invaded the U. S, he had been unprepared, ignoring biblical prophecy in his arrogance and youth. This time, he would get it right. Do it by the book.

Adam met both men’s gazes. “It seems the Antichrist is planning on invading the U. S again, this time with more conventional armed forces as well as his demonic army. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’ve tried to visit every active base or settlement left on the East coast. I’ve come to warn you.”

“How long?” asked Colonel Wheat, his voice flat and emotionless.

“We can’t be exactly sure. The ships needed to be finished, armed and crewed. Fueled. Travel time. Take away the time I spent getting here…”

“How long!” demanded the Colonel.

“Six weeks. No more.”

The Colonel looked down at his desk for a moment and then began rapidly scribbling. From where Sam was sitting, they looked like numbers. He was calculating. “Do you know where they’re going to hit us? Don’t you dare say the Eastern seaboard either,” he growled.

“Once again, our British Intelligence couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but it looks like they’ll be heading for New York. That’s their most likely landing.”

The Colonel screwed up the piece of paper he was writing on and started again on another piece. Sam ignored him, lost in his own thoughts. His mind was reeling. Six weeks. New York. An invasion fleet. His brother. So much to think about. He wondered how Grace would take the news given her fragile state.

He tried not to think about her. And yet, even though the present demanded his attention, the past intruded once again.

I t was at times like this, thought Sam, that he could’ve used a vehicle. Or the knowledge of how to drive one for that matter. Despite his best intentions and a surfeit of opportunities, he’d never taught himself.

It was getting dark and he was in the middle of nowhere. To be precise, he was somewhere in Ohio, heading East between Columbus and Zanesville. Probably not far from Wheeling but he couldn’t be sure. According to his map, he’d know it because he’d have to cross the West Virginia River and that river, pre-Rapture, was hard to miss. On his map it certainly looked big enough.

He needed somewhere to hole up for the night. Not that he was terribly concerned about demons — his glamor ability cloaked him fairly effectively. It was just that he wanted to avoid trouble in general and not draw attention to himself. If an invasion fleet was on its way, it would be best if they didn’t know he was travelling in the same direction. Besides, if he planned to keep this pace up, even he’d have to rest. That called for meditation and when meditating, he sometimes got distracted, letting his glamor slip. It would be best if he had somewhere safer than just open interstate.

He’d set out in the early hours of the previous day. By his calculations, it was just over a hundred miles to Wheeling so he’d made good progress. He always did when he travelled by himself, jogging along at a steady pace, pretending like it was the old days. Before the Rapture. Before everything changed.

It was strangely liberating to be alone again. Lately, he’d had his fill of human contact. He’d go for weeks without any and get a craving for companionship but as soon as he’d had some, he needed to get away. He knew this was anti-social but didn’t really care. It was not like he meant anything to anyone… but then he berated himself for being too dramatic. Adam cared about him. And Hikari and Aimi of course. Grace, on the other hand, he was no longer sure of. He wondered if she’d come around eventually.

He was glad he’d insisted on heading off as soon as possible. Adam had wanted him to wait while the rest of the force he was assembling prepared itself but the Colonel had agreed with Sam. Thankfully. If they had both been against him, he would’ve struggled to get out of the camp without permission. As it was, it had still taken him three days to prep and finally get out of the base.

The Colonel, more than Adam, accepted how effective Sam could be by himself. That was why he was being sent into New York before the defensive force. Sure, Colonel Wheat had also sent demolition squads ahead too but theirs was an altogether different mission. The demo squads were to take out, destroy and ruin whatever church they could find in the New York area, especially in and around Manhattan given that was where the forces of the Antichrist were most likely to invade and establish a foothold on American soil. Without churches, the demonic forces couldn’t transport themselves instantaneously to the area. Instead, they’d have to travel in a somewhat normal sense. This, presumably, included Sam’s brother himself.

Adam had asked him about this earlier. They were making an awful assumption that Semiazas possessed very similar powers to Sam. But what if his powers were different or greater than Sam’s? What if he was able to transfer to Earth without using a church? Sam had to admit they were good, relevant questions but the bottom line was that he didn’t know the answers. They would, however, find out in short order.

Still, by destroying the churches, it would hopefully even up the odds. Then the Antichrist would have to rely on his conventional forces who fought in a way that any man could cope with. That was the demo squads’ job.

Sam’s was altogether different. He would use his ability in sensing minds to gather a resistance force in New York. He would find any human survivors and direct them to where they could gather supplies and weapons. Of course, if they were demon worshippers…

Also, Colonel Wheat wanted some forewarning about demon strength in the area. What about demons already in New York? Most, Sam knew, travelled back to Hell during the day, but some who had darkened places of refuge didn’t bother. What about if the church demo squads failed or missed some? Sam would be able to warn the Colonel in time.

Hopefully.

So, here he was. Alone again. He’d contemplated asking Grace to join him but she was just too unpleasant as company these days. Just thinking that made him smile. The thought that she was more unpleasant than him was almost funny. But it was true. Even though she’d come a long way from the teary girl he once knew, she would still have slowed him down.

Besides which, he hadn’t been able to find her. He’d gone to the barracks that they shared but she wasn’t around and he didn’t have time to look for her. It was a shame. He’d wanted to say goodbye. This mission was described by Colonel Wheat as ‘high risk.’ Sam didn’t know whether he’d be coming back or not. They might not see each other again, and it saddened Sam to think that their last words had not been pleasant ones.

He jogged on, increasing his pace along the interstate, enjoying the challenge of weaving in and out amongst the empty cars. So preoccupied was he with his game that he almost missed it in the gloom — a motel, just off the road. He swerved without breaking stride, examining it with his senses as he got closer. He slowed to a walk, just in case he missed something with his hearing. Nothing. The place was completely empty. If someone or thing had been here, it was long ago.

He tried some doors. Several of the rooms were locked and he didn’t want to advertise his presence by smashing them open. Perhaps he was being overly cautious, but he didn’t want to use his telekinesis either. It was a power to be used as a last resort, not like a pocket knife, to be pulled out at every convenient opportunity. He thought like a normal person. Where would the keys be? He’d only been in one other motel in his life and that one had been unlocked. And then he had it. The office. He looked around. Several doors down, a filthy sign was swinging back and forth in the warm breeze. He wasn’t sure but he thought some of the letters potentially spelt ‘office’.