S Ison - Russian Doomsday

He’d had a little vodka earlier, and had whispered about projects and his connections to Orlov. She’d acted suitably impressed, hanging on his every word.

She smiled up adoringly at him and shook her head. “You are a very powerful man. I know that people at work hold you in very high esteem. I’ve seen the photographs of your ships. They are magnificent.” She smiled to herself when he stopped buttoning his shirt to look down at her. He smiled, his chest swelling, and began to unbutton his shirt once again.

She grinned, and moved the sheet invitingly, then giggled girlishly and scooted over, raising a hand to draw him in. All she needed was time. She’d get the info she needed, little by little, like a spider weaving a sticky web. She’d pull this little fly into it and get what she needed to complete her mission.

As he drew near, she wrapped her long legs around him and began to kiss and touch him. He liked it when she played the aggressor, though not always. She watched his body language carefully, and tonight he was willing. Perhaps he would expand on the projects.

She covered his face with little kisses. She knew how to move him, and she especially knew what got him going, made him forget himself. She was very skilled, and set about working her magic.

Robert Brooks nervously shuffled the papers in from of him. His congregation were slowly gathering and taking their seats. He’d called them together for a special meeting. He could feel the sweat trickle down his back. He’d had a dream the previous week and it had been so vivid, it had frightened him badly.

He’d been visited by an angel, who told him that their world would end soon. The angel told him to prepare, that there would be famine, disease, and hellfire coming. The sky would go dark for a time, life would be extinguished in fire and wind. Prepare the angel had told him. Prepare or run for your life . He’d woken up screaming when he saw explosions that melted the skin from people’s faces, their screams echoing in his own screams.

His heart had beaten so hard, he thought he’d been having a heart attack. He’d wept for over an hour, thinking about the dream. It had not left him. It was still clear to him. He felt it his duty to tell his congregation. He drew out a handkerchief and dabbed at his upper lip and temples. He’d never been this nervous before.

Clearing his throat, he looked out as the people under his care began to quiet down and look at him. He smiled down at them, his lips trembling. He had an urge to laugh hysterically and cry at the same time. He tried to get a grip.

He cleared his throat again.

“Good evening. Thank you for coming, for giving up your Saturday evening. I would not call you here normally, but something special and important has occurred.” He smiled nervously down at the people gathered. He tried to focus on one person, but he couldn’t seem to. He could feel the muscles in his eyes twitch, and he hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

“I want to tell you about something which happened to me last week. I beg your indulgence, because I know that when you hear this, you will find it hard to believe.” He had their attention now. Their eyes were zeroed in on him. Once more, he felt the trickle of sweat down his back.

“All my life, I’ve tried to follow and live by God’s Word. I’ve had times where my faith has wavered. I’ve always tried to listen to what God has tried to tell me or show me through prayer and meditation. But I’ve never before had a dream where I was sent a message.”

Low murmurings started up around the room, heads leaning in and whispering.

He lifted his hand and they quieted down again. “Now. I had a dream a few nights ago. It was about the end of our world as we know it. I saw hellfire, deadly winds and devastation the likes I’ve never seen or imagined. An angel told me that we need to prepare. He kept telling me, ‘Prepare, or run for your life.’” Once more, the murmuring and whispering grew louder and more animated.

“I shall read from the Bible now, from Joel chapter 2, verses thirty to thirty-two.

“‘And I will show wonders in the heavens and on the earth, blood and fire and columns of smoke. The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood, before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes. And it shall come to pass that everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved. For in Mount Zion and in Jerusalem there shall be those who escape, as the Lord has said, and among the survivors shall be those whom the Lord calls. ’

“In my dream, I saw many horrific things. I believe I was sent it as a warning. To warn you to prepare. I believe something is coming. I don’t know when or where, but I do know that if we are not prepared, there will be much suffering.”

He let a slow breath out. There. He’d said it. And they’d not jumped up and laughed at him. Yet.

A man behind the second pew raised his hand, and Robert nodded and lifted his hand for the man to speak.

“So, you’re telling us that, because you had a nightmare, you think God has spoken to you? Telling us to prepare for something that is coming, but you don’t know what or when?” the man asked, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

Robert’s heart sank as he saw heads nod around the room. It was Rey Huval, an arrogant man and a thorn in his side.

“Yes. I’m asking you to take a leap of faith with me. I’ve never had a dream so vivid as this. I ask that each of you prepare. Put food and water away. Prepare for famine, disease, and pestilence. Please, I understand it’s difficult for you to believe, but I urge each of you to prepare for the worst.”

Rey stood, grabbed his wife’s arm, and together they began moving down the pew, leaving. Others began to get up and leave too.

“Please, ladies and gentlemen, I urge you to listen and heed. I understand if you don’t believe me, but please, believe in the spirit of what I ask and what I tell you.” He watched in sadness as everyone got up and left, looking at him with either pity or scorn. His mouth trembled, and he tried not to beg them come back.

Within minutes, his church was empty, and quiet but for the soft sobs he made. The people he’d known for years, had guided, laughed and cried with, had all walked out on him. He walked off the stage and went to sit in the front pew.

“Lord, I tried to tell them. I will keep trying, but I don’t think they want to hear me. I’m sorry I failed you.”

Pike arrived in Lincoln. He was a little nervous, and excited. He would finally meet the man who’d helped him begin prepping. He pulled into a repair garage and saw a tall man, slightly balding, put down a greasy rag. He smiled, clearly recognizing Pike, and Pike returned the smile.

Pike got out of the truck and extended his hand. “Mr. Sayer Bleak, I presume. Good to meet you finally,” he said, grinning widely.

Sayer took his hand and shook it heartily. “Good to see you Pike, and glad you made it safely.

“It’s quitting time here. How would you like to go get a drink, maybe something to eat?”

“Sure, Sayer, if you want. I’ll follow you and we can relax and have a chat.”

“Sounds good. Let me lock up and I’ll be right out.”

Pike looked around. It was a neat little garage, and seemed to suit Sayer. No muss, no fuss. He saw Sayer come out of the office and lock the door, so he got into his truck and waited. Sayer waved and got into his own truck, then pulled out. Pike followed behind, and a few minutes later they pulled into a pub. Both men got out and headed into the bar.

A redheaded waitress showed them to a booth and Pike ordered a beer along with a hamburger platter. Sayer ordered the same and both men sat back and relaxed. There was soft rock playing in the background. Pike was glad it wasn’t too loud.