Robert Browne - The Paradise Prophecy

“Oh my God,” Callahan moaned, tears filling her eyes.

This couldn’t be happening.

It just couldn’t be.

But just as she thought she’d seen the worst of it, the ground began to shudder again, and a fiery chasm splintered and forked, two enormous cracks cutting to the left and right, spewing flames. And from within those flames came the bodies of the dead, crawling over the cracks like ants from a mound, silhouetted by the massive bloodred ring of the eclipsing moon, only a sliver of which still shone in its glory. The animated bodies of the dead seemed to take their power from it, spreading out toward Callahan and the others, their eyes filled with malice.

“Oh my God,” she said again, and scrambled to her feet.

This wasn’t going to end well.

The dark angels and their drudges cheered and applauded. They had never before seen anything so glorious.

As the dust cleared, Beelzebub looked up and saw that the eclipse was nearly full. The moon glowed a brilliant bloodred in the sky.

“Let us begin,” he said, and those in robes formed a circle around the girl as he approached and stood over her. “Are you ready to give your soul to Lucifer?”

The girl looked up at him, her eyes glazed.

“Lucifer …,” she muttered.

Beelzebub smiled, slipping the dagger from his pocket as he turned to the others and spoke the sacred incantation. “ Quod apertum est, id aperiri non potest. ”

What is opened, cannot be closed.

“ Quod apertum est, id aperiri non potest, ” the others repeated in unison, then began walking in a circle around the girl and Beelzebub, chanting the words over and over.

Beelzebub knelt down. “It’s all right, my angel. Nothing to be afraid of. Soon all your pain will be gone. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“You want me to take away your pain?”

“Yes . . .”

He held out the dagger. “All you have to do is give yourself to Lucifer. Are you ready to do that?”

“Yes,” she said a third time, then took the dagger into her hand.

Batty watched in astonishment as the cracks in the ground started to multiply, chunks of the earth breaking away, tumbling into the ever-widening pit, a wall of molten lava shooting up from within.

The dead things were still crawling toward them and Michael fired his Glock with one hand and arced his knife with the other, severing arms and torsos and heads.

Batty and Callahan opened fire alongside him, putting bullets between their eyes, knocking them back into the abyss.

Batty felt a prickling on the back of his neck and turned to where one of the shacks had collapsed behind him. A short distance away, he saw a cement bunker on the side of the hill, and there, standing on its rooftop were a dozen or more people in brown robes, moving in a tight circle.

He was instantly reminded of the drawing on the seventh page.

Firing off one last shot and nailing another dead thing in the chest, he shouted to the others and took off toward the bunker.

Quo d apertum est, id aperiri non potest, ” the crowd chanted as the girl knelt there, staring at the dagger in her hand. “ Quod apertum est, id aperiri non potest. ”

“It’s all right,” Beelzebub said. “It’ll only hurt for a moment. One small prick of the flesh and all is yours.”

The girl swayed slightly, still staring at the dagger. Then she raised it into the air and Beelzebub smiled.

“Yes, yes . . . Give yourself to Lucifer.”

He could see that she was his. That she was about to do it.

“ Quod apertum est, id aperiri non potest. ”

He glanced at Belial, who had broken from the circle and was watching with quiet rapture in her eyes.

The moon was in full eclipse now, everything aligned and perfect, and he knew that all he had worked for, century after century, would finally be his. His beloved brother would soon be free and the world would be theirs to rule together.

The girl raised the dagger higher, then higher, aiming it toward her throat.

Batty was only feet from the bunker when he saw the girl raising the dagger.

No, he thought, no . . .

He had to stop her.

Shoving his gun into his waistband, he dropped the broadsword and picked up speed. Hurdling over a low cement barrier, he jumped onto a platform, then leapt toward the bunker, grabbing on to the lip of the rooftop.

His legs swung free and he struggled to pull himself up and over the ledge, but he couldn’t get enough momentum and the strength in his fingers was waning fast.

One of the drudges on the rooftop spotted him and snarled, heading in his direction. But just as the drudge was about to reach him, a shot rang out and a bloody red hole opened up in its forehead.

It blew back hard, bursting into a cloud of black dust.

Batty closed his eyes as the dust blew across his face. He heard shrieks and cries of alarm from the rooftop and he knew that others would soon be coming. His fingers were starting to give out, and as he struggled to hold on, his gun shook loose and clattered to the ground below.

Shit.

Just as he was sure he was about to follow it, he felt a burst of energy behind him, a rush of hot air that sent him hurdling up and over the lip of the rooftop, and he knew that it was Michael’s doing, delivering an invisible blow.

He rolled and jumped to his feet-

– and there, just five yards away, was the sacred traveler, her eyes glazed, staring at the dagger in her hand.

Beelzebub was vaguely aware of a disturbance around him, but paid it no attention. The little witch wasn’t doing what had to be done.

He glanced at the moon.

“Go on, my angel. The time is now.”

But girl still didn’t move. Kept staring at the blade.

“You want to give yourself to Lucifer, don’t you?”

“Lucifer . . . ,” she murmured.

“One small prick and the world is yours.”

“Mine . . . ,” she said.

Then, just as he was about to give up hope, she tightened her grip and raised the dagger even higher, ready to plunge it home.

“That’s it, my angel, that’s it! Time to take away your pain.”

Then all at once, something shifted in her eyes. She suddenly focused on Beelzebub, then screamed and brought the dagger down-

– plunging it straight into his throat.

Beelzebub’s eyes went wide as he grabbed his neck and teetered back, blood pouring between his fingers. Getting to her feet, Jenna kicked him hard, knocking him backwards. “Go to hell, you sonofabitch!”

Belial shot forward, grabbing for the girl, as angels all around them started shouting, several of them reaching for Beelzebub as he tumbled to the ground.

Batty barreled forward as a crowd of drudges and dark angels descended upon him. He spun and swung, connecting with every blow, but there were too many of them and he knew he wouldn’t last.

He did his best to drive them back, looking desperately toward the girl, relieved to see that she was on her feet now, standing over a figure writhing on the ground, the dagger in her hand, and murder in her eyes.

A dark-skinned Brazilian woman was reaching for her and as Batty was about to move in, someone hit him from behind, knocking him sideways.

Wheeling around, he punched out blindly, sending another drudge sprawling.

Then gunfire rang out, and he saw Callahan moving toward him, blowing away drudges left and right, clouds of black dust bursting like fireworks in the air around her.

But when he turned to face the girl, the Brazilian woman had her by the arm, struggling to wrestle the dagger from her. The woman glanced up at Batty, and as their eyes made contact, something warm and wet rolled over in his stomach.