Authors: Robert Browne

The Paradise Prophecy (51 page)

BOOK: The Paradise Prophecy

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Yet it kept coming back to the girl.

That single, breathing, walking, talking,
living
human being.

And as he and Callahan and Michael crossed the street toward Paradise City, he had absolutely no idea what choice he would ultimately make.

B
eelzebub watched as the others gathered around Belial and the girl. Make no mistake about it, Belial was a master at what she did, and he could see young Jenna succumbing to her power, giving in to her will.

It was thing of beauty. A true gift. And as he looked up at the darkening moon he was happy he had trusted Belial’s instincts. Was happy that Michael had betrayed the traveler with his impulsiveness. Had it not been for him, they never would have known that she was one.

That was something he’d have to live with for a long, long time, as he sat in his cell in the seventh city.

Beelzebub thought it only fitting that they had brought the girl here to this rooftop. The place where the tree had once grown. It was, he thought, a final, symbolic
fuck-you
to their fraudulent, self-aggrandizing father and his precious creation.

All along the skyline, he saw more eruptions, the earth giving way to a seething abyss. The gates breaking open.

And he knew it was like this all around the world. Soon his brother would rise from the fires of Abyssus, once and for all, and take possession of his true dominion.

Lord of the Earth.

King of the New Creation.

Father to all who embraced his sovereignty.

And Beelzebub was fairly certain they would not be given a choice in the matter. This was one of God’s mistakes that his brother would not repeat.

What a shame, he thought, that he didn’t have a piece of fruit with which to tempt the girl. That idea, however, seemed a bit simplistic now. Human beings had become such complex animals over the years, and while they could certainly be predictable, they couldn’t always be relied upon to succumb to such easy temptation.

Better to let Belial do what she did best. To persuade the girl to take her life in the name of Satan.

T
he moon was in three-quarters eclipse now.

Batty, Callahan and Michael moved together through the
favela
, Michael taking the lead. They wound through its streets, surprised to find it curiously empty, but then many of the people here had probably fled during the chaos, and those who were left had undoubtedly gathered near where the ceremony was to be held.

Except for the dead. As the three guardians moved from street to alleyway and back to the street again, there were bodies everywhere. Some with weapons at their side. Others shot down without mercy.

Michael snatched up a couple of guns along the way and tossed them to Batty and Callahan.

“Through here,” he said, then cut to the right, moving up a narrow cement pathway. The shacks on either side were in ruins, thick black smoke billowing from within them, spewing its noxious fumes into the air.

They were turning the corner when the earth began to shake again and before them a row of shacks shuddered and collapsed, sinking into a fissure in the ground.

Fire shot up in front of them and they pulled back, quickly changing direction.

But then something moved from inside the fissure.

“Look out!” Batty shouted.

And out of the fire and smoke came a platoon of creatures, the likes of which Batty had never before seen, their skin charred, their teeth barred as their feral eyes took the three guardians in with a hunger that sent chills up his spine.

One of them dove for Callahan, but she ducked away as Michael jerked his knife from his waistband and cut the thing in two. It howled and burst into flames, tumbling to the ground, as three of its friends advanced on Callahan.

She brought her shotgun up, shot one in the chest, then kicked, whirled, and kicked again, knocking the other two aside as Michael quickly finished them off with a couple bullets of his own.

But still more came at them, and Batty brought his own gun up, blasting them back into the hole.

Then it was over. For now, at least.

But as they gathered themselves and continued on, Batty knew there would be more to come.

I
t was time for the ceremony, and it looked as if Belial had the girl primed and ready. She came over to Beelzebub now.

“She’s all yours,” Belial said. “When she sees that dagger, she’ll think it’s candy.”

Beelzebub smiled and kissed her full on the lips. And they were very nice lips indeed. “I really do like this new skin.”

“The girlfriend of the local drug lord. He used to own this place.”

“Used to?”

She smiled. “He’s one of ours now. Are we ready to begin?”

Beelzebub checked the moon. “Just waiting on Moloch and Mammon. Where are those fools?”

A voice behind him said, “I’d watch that tongue, if I were you.”

They turned to find Moloch and Mammon walking toward them across the rooftop.

“I have to congratulate you two,” Mammon said. “You were right after all.” There was a sneer in his voice that led Beelzebub to question his sincerity. “But before we begin, we have a little surprise.”

“Surprise?”

Now Moloch stepped forward and pointed toward the far horizon. “Watch,” he said.

Within milliseconds of speaking the word, a mushroom cloud rose in the distance, followed by a thunderous
boom
.

The shockwave rolled out across the landscape, toppling everything in its path.

D
own!” LaLaurie shouted, “Get down!”

Callahan dove to the ground, feeling the earth rumble beneath her as the shockwave leveled the buildings behind them, stopping just short of the
favela
.

“Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus,” she moaned, buffeted by a hot, harsh wind.

She kept her face buried in her arms, not wanting to see the destruction behind her, not wanting to move.

But when she finally forced herself to look up, she found nothing but a fine dust swirling around her, and she was unable to see more than three feet in front of her. Then the dust began to clear, blowing back the way it came, to reveal that half of São Paulo had been reduced to nothing but ash.

“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.

T
he 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.

B
atty 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.

Q
uod 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.

B
atty 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.

B
eelzebub 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?”

BOOK: The Paradise Prophecy

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