People of the Ark (Ark Chronicles 1) (22 page)

10.

Ikkesh, Bera, Par Alexander, the Prophet Zohar, Queen Naamah and King Laban gazed skyward as the ground trembled.

Staggering, they cried out to one another
. Ikkesh tripped and dashed his forehead against the Ark, falling backward. Par Alexander tripped over him, spraining his right wrist as he tried to catch himself. Bera snarled in baffled rage. Queen Naamah flinched as she saw a fountain of water funnel out of the ground like a whale spouting from its blowhole. King Laban went rigid with fear as a drop of water splashed against his cheek.

Others paused in their riotous debauchery
. The ground no longer trembled, but shook violently in the world’s first earthquake. Wagons turned over. Fires winked out. Tents collapsed. It began to rain, to lash with a great downpour, a cloudburst upon the celebration.

“
It’s happening!” screamed Zohar, water drenching his long white beard.

“
No, no,” moaned Par Alexander, who covered his head from the pelting. “This is impossible.”

“
Noah!” howled Ikkesh. “Noah, let us in!” He leaped to his feet and hammered at the Ark for admittance.

“
Noah, open the door,” Queen Naamah cried. “Ham! Ham! It is I, your beloved!”

“
Fools!” Laban shouted, who did his best to ignore the rain lashing against his face. “We have to help ourselves.”

The shaking had stopped, although their clothes were soaked and dark clouds billowed in the sky
. It was a depressing sight, the worse because until this moment there had never been a cloud. As rain poured, the others peered at the demon-haunted king.

“
Kedorlaomer,” Laban said. “Where are the nearest boats?”

“
Boats?” asked the small nomad, terror etching his face into a grotesque mask.

“
If there’s a flood we must ride it out,” Laban said.

“
But Noah said that Jehovah will destroy the world with this Flood,” Zohar said.

“
So Noah has predicted this strange event,” argued Laban. “That doesn’t mean he’s right in every particular.”

“
Doesn’t it?” Ikkesh asked. “No, I think it does.”

“
Look,” Bera shouted.

A vast throng of people, screaming and staggering as another earthquake hit, rushed for the Ark
. Like an avalanche of flesh, they ran for the only place of safety.

“
We’ve got to get out of here,” Laban shouted. “It’s either that or be trampled by the herd.” He grabbed Naamah by the arm and dragged Ikkesh and Bera by the chains clamped to their necks.

Kedorlaomer glanced at the Ark and then at the mob bearing upon them
. “Wait for me, Sire.”

King Laban, energized by Azel, smote any that dared come close to him
. But they kept coming, screaming, pleading, sobbing and the rain pelting them unmercifully. So Laban drew his sword, slashing to the right and to the left. He snarled and roared awful curses, shaking his bloody sword at the heavens and hewing until blood and water dripped from him in equal portions. Ymir joined him with his axe. The two of them thus opened the way for the others through the crying, wailing mob. And when they were through, they sprinted to the pavilion for the supplies they needed. Laban vowed to survive this madness no matter what he had to do.

11.

“Ham,” Rahab screamed. “Ham! Ham!”

He jumped out of his straw-filled cot and staggered against a sea chest
. His shin exploded with pain. He clutched it and fell as the Ark swayed and shook. Through the walls, creatures brayed or bawled in mind-numbing volume. He scrambled up, the throbbing in his shin forgotten.

Husband and wife clutched one another.

Rahab sobbed, her face pressed against his shoulder.

Terror gripped Ham
, and unbelievable gratitude that he was inside and not outside.

Timbers groaned
. A plate clattered across the chest, moving on its own accord. It shattered against the floor. Then, as suddenly as the shaking had started, it stopped.

They listened
. They heard animals and a strange thumping, a constant drumming.

“
What is that?” Rahab whispered.

“
Rain?” Ham asked.

Rahab stared into his face
. “No. That sounds like people trying to hammer their way in.”

“
The army of Chemosh,” Ham said.

“
Oh, husband, what are we going to do?”

He grabbed her hand
. They ran out the room and staggered down the corridors. For the first time Ham realized that it was a good thing the passageways were cramped. They couldn’t move much side to side, couldn’t bump and crash hard enough to hurt themselves. Boards groaned and creaked with strain, as the giant ship swayed because of another earthquake.

He pounded up the stairs, Rahab behind him
. They zigzagged through the maze. For years, he had worked on the Ark, so he knew exactly where he was going. As his chest heaved, as he gasped for breath, he led his wife up another flight of stairs and to the walkway by the cubit-wide windows.

“
I’m frightened,” she said.

So was he
. He thrust a lever and opened a widow. Together they peered at a hellish scene.

Rain poured
. It fell in a downpour, in sheets. Further away great gouts of water spewed hundreds of feet into the air. Already water flooded the land. People rode on wagons as if they were boats, screaming as they sped faster than a chariot. Others floated face-first. A few ran, pumping their knees as high as they could go. Then an uprooted tree smashed them from behind, caving in heads or chests. Here and there, on a knot of higher land, men and women fought with spears, chains or swords. They shoved the defeated into the swirling water, desperately struggling in a life-and-death battle of king of the hill. People stretched out their arms to the Ark. Their mouths were black holes. They must be screaming. Many clawed over others, some swam—all vainly struggled to get here, to safety, to crawl into the Ark that each of them had once mocked and jeered.

Ham snapped the shutter closed.

“It’s horrible,” Rahab whispered.

Ham jerked around and stared at his wife
. Was he as white-faced as she was? He felt numb, sick and terrified. “This way,” he shouted. He pulled Rahab after him.

They staggered down the stairs and through another maze
. Animals bellowed and clawed to get out of their pens. But where would they go? This was the only place of safety. Maybe there were other safe spots now, but soon only the Ark would be home to man and animals.

He tugged her small hand
. “Hurry, Rahab.”

“
We can’t open the door for them,” she sobbed. “Jehovah closed it. Only He can open it.”

He hadn
’t even thought of opening the door for them. Trust his wife to think compassionately. He wasn’t worthy of such a good woman. He glanced at her. The same terror on her face gripped his belly, squeezing so he could hardly think. Only Jehovah could save them. And Jehovah, Ham was certain, only listened to one man.

They burst into an open space, one his father frequented
. Noah was there, with his hands lifted in prayer.

“
Hurry, my children,” Noah said, “to me, to me.”

Ham and Rahab joined Shem
, Ruth, Japheth, Europa and their mother Gaea, who knelt around their father.

“
On your knees,” Noah said, “both of you.”

Ham knelt, as did Rahab, and they clutched one another
’s hands, linked in a circle with the white-bearded patriarch who had dared to believe Jehovah and build an Ark. When the entire world had laughed and mocked, Noah had in faith obediently done all that God had commanded of him. Thus, they were safe, because of father, because of one man who had stood his ground against a world.

“
Lord Jehovah,” Noah began, leading his family in prayer as the Antediluvian Age ended.

12.

The fountains of the great deep broke and the wide windows of heaven let water gush in mighty cataracts. Rivers overflowed their bounds and poured into the valleys. Jets of water and lava burst from the earth in fury and rage, hurling massive boulders hundreds of feet into the air. They fell like hailstones, smashing and destroying, splintering and tearing.

Masses watched in openmouthed horror as the works of their hands vanished in a flurry of destruction
. In Chemosh the splendid towers, pyramids and plinths, along with gardens and fantastic golden idols disappeared as lightning from heaven shattered them all. Foaming, raging water swept away the ruins. The altars stained by human sacrifices, the grim temples; they, too, vanished in the seething cauldron of Jehovah’s wrath.

The violence of the storm increased
. Trees, buildings, rocks and earth were hurled in every direction. Men went mad with terror. Beasts stampeded, goring any that got in their way. In their fear men wailed to Jehovah, or they cursed and blasphemed the Holy One of Heaven.

Around the Ark, as the growing water lashed against its heavy sides, pleaded the surviving masses of the army of Chemosh
. They floated on logs, scratching for admittance. They agreed that Jehovah ruled and should have their obedience. At last, their stirred consciences knew the truth. In this terrible hour, they howled their contrition, that they now also abhorred evil. A few desperately produced axes and tried to gain a foothold as they attempted to hew their way inside. Surging waters swept them along, or sometimes uprooted tree trunks or crashing rocks smashed them so their lifeless corpses floated like debris beside the giant vessel.

Through this hellish end of the Antediluvian Age sped King Laban, Queen Naamah, Kedorlaomer, Ymir, Par Alexander, the Prophet Zohar, Ikkesh and Bera.

They commandeered a merchant ship of Pishon, slaying its owners. Alas, the premier philosopher of the age had never learned how to wield a sword. Par Alexander gasped in painful surprise as a sailor thrust a harpoon into his guts.

“
No,” whispered Par Alexander, his sword clattering to the deck and his hands grasping the bloody shaft.

Laban shouted for Ymir
. With his mighty axe, Ymir smashed the sailor’s head. Then he picked up the sailor and the dying philosopher and pitched them both overboard.

As rain lashed, as dark waters swirled, they cracked whips and forced the slave-rowers to row, riding out the first fury of the Deluge in
the merchant ship.

Many uprooted, floating trees rushed past
. Squirrels, bobcats and even a leopard rode the branches, as well as imploring, water-soaked people, some of whom stared in madness. Any of the uprooted tree trunks could ram and sink them in their frail vessel, so unlike the stout Ark. So Ymir reached out with his axe and shoved the trunks away.

Two days later, t
he giant brooded in the ship’s waist, a makeshift awning keeping off the worst of the rain. He sat cross-legged with his axe, water dripping from his chin.

Laban squatted beside him
. “We need more supplies.” They had slain the slave-rowers and formed a makeshift sail, perhaps the first ever. The gentle breezes of the Age had never been enough to propel ships. They had slain the rowers so their food might last longer. The question was, how long would the Flood last?

Ymir took out a whetstone and filed it across the axe-blade.

“Did you hear me, Nephilim?”

A wild light shone in the giant
’s eye. “This I vow. I will drink the blood of Noah. A cup I shall make of his skull.”

“
First we must find the Ark,” Laban said.

Ymir
squinted. “Azel lives in you. Surely he knows the way.”

Laban stared into the storm, the pouring rain
. Visibility was poor and whitecaps lashed the ship. He composed himself and soon his eyelids fluttered. He put his fingers to his forehead. “West. Twenty leagues from here.”

“
Let us sail west,” Ymir said.

Laban whipped spittle from his lips and rose without a word
. He conferred with Naamah, and soon they and the others shifted the sail and headed west. They battled against the elements and kept a sharp lookout for ships.

Half a day later and through the raging storm
, one hove into view.

Naamah, the sharpest-eyed among them, stood on the prow castle
. She wore a sealskin hood. “It’s hard to make it out through the storm.”

“
It doesn’t look big enough to be the Ark,” Laban said.

“
Can’t Azel tell you?” Naamah asked.

“
He’s grown silent again,” Laban said.

Naamah sucked in her breath
. “Look! It’s a pirate galley. It brims with swordsmen. They strain at the oars and head our way.”

Laban saw it a few minutes later
. He ran down the prow castle and readied for raiders. “They’ll want our ship, for a galley will soon break up in a storm.”

“
They’re mad,” Ymir said, with his axe in hand.

“
Or very brave,” Naamah said.

Ymir smiled horribly.

As the waters raged, as the storm poured, the pirate galley packed with foemen struggled nearer. Arrows arched between the ships, but the howling wind made it meaningless. The oars strained and the whitecaps threatened to swamp the galley.

Laban couldn
’t understand how they had stayed afloat this long. Then a wave lifted the galley and smashed it against them. Grappling irons thudded onto the railing and drenched pirates swarmed aboard.

Ymir met them with a sweep of his axe and the pirates screamed
. The pitching ship and the rain made the deck slippery and deadly. Prophet Zohar staggered the wrong way and an axe split his skull. Kedorlaomer parried a sword-stroke and then a spear stabbed his vitals.

Ymir
’s axe swept many pirates into the sea. The Nephilim roared bloody oaths and boasted that his death-bane couldn’t occur until he had hewed Noah’s head from his shoulders.

“
At them!” roared Ymir, leaping from the merchant ship and onto the galley.

But the pirate captain, a clever man, had stayed on the galley
’s stern deck. He threw back a tarp and uncovered a loaded and cocked dart-throwing ballista. As the galley heaved and Ymir completed his slaughter, the pirate captain yanked the firing lever. The iron dart smashed through Ymir’s armor and into his lungs. His good eye widened. He stiffened. Then, like a hewn tree, the Nephilim toppled overboard and disappeared into the wild waves of the sea.

Laban had been busy during Ymir
’s assault. The king chopped the ropes that held the two ships bound together. As Ymir died, the galley parted from the merchant ship.

“
No!” the pirate captain shouted. “Take me with you!”

A furious wave hit the galley and broke it in half, and the pirate captain disappeared.

After that, they sailed for days, no longer looking for the Ark, trying only to survive.