(Wrath-02)-Darkness of This World (2012) Read online

  Luke reached out and touched the cold wall. It was wet and slimy from a small crack that wept from the underground aquifer. The water ran clear and formed a mossy trail that ran down the stone. He pressed his finger into the moss then tasted his finger as he looked around the falls.

  The Great Falls of the Potomac is one of the most spectacular natural landmarks on the entire east coast. Above the falls, the Potomac narrows from a wide and meandering river to a powerful ribbon of water that cuts through the Mather Gorge with incredible force. The river drops nearly eighty feet in little less than a mile, crashing over a series of twenty-foot waterfalls and cascading rapids before splitting into multiple frothing fingers running through the rocky channels that make up the lower part of the gorge. For the past ten thousand years, the Potomac has cut through the bedrock, eroding the falls and the riverbank into a moon-like terrain while leaving rock formations that are sheer and jagged and perfect for climbing.

  Luke pressed the mossy dribble of water again then moved a few feet to his right, where the stone was dry and bare. Ammon glanced at the trail that led from the riverbed up the side of the steep bank.

  “Is there anything in the world that is better than this?” asked Luke.

  “Ahh, let me think. Got one. Girls. Yeah, girls are definitely better that this.”

  Luke shook his head. “I mean other than that.”

  “Ahh, steak. Yeah. Both steak or lobster is better than this.”

  “OK. Two things.”

  “Yeah, and sleep. Sleep is much better!”

  “Be quiet, OK? This is great. Winter’s coming. This might be our last time to climb before it gets too cold.”

  “Wait, I’m not finished . . . television’s better . . . yeah, I think I’d rather watch televison than get up at five in the morning just to climb rocks.”

  Luke looked dismayed. “OK, I’m sorry I dragged you out here, all right!”

  Ammon smiled and cracked his brother on the back. “Just kidding you, dog. You know I’d rather be here with you than anywhere in the world.”

  “A little early for sarcasm.”

  “Just trying to get things going, you know, lighten things up a bit.” Ammon smiled again and picked up the rope and climbing harness.

  Luke studied the wall, lifting his head to the top of the cliff almost fifty feet overhead. Near the top, a sheer ledge jutted outward from the wall at a sixty-degree angle. He studied the cliff for handholds, then pointed to a trail of tiny cracks leading up to the overhang. “I could climb up to that ledge,” he said, pointing to where the rock jutted outward from the sheer wall.

  “Yeah, and then what?” Ammon asked.

  Luke studied the overhang. “It looks like there might be a few holds,” he took a few steps back, “there . . . .” he pointed with his right arm, using it to guide Ammon’s eyes toward a tiny crack in the rock. “If I could reach behind me for two feet or so, I could jam my hands in that crack.”

  “Yeah. Then all you’d have to do is hold on to that ledge with your teeth.”

  Luke glanced at his brother. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?”

  “No, Luke, I don’t think anyone can do it. You’ll be reaching out a full arms length above and behind you while hanging on with only one hand . . . no, correction, you’ll be hanging on with only your fingers. I don’t care how strong you are, no one could reach that far behind them and get their hand into that crack. Not while hanging on the wall anyway.”

  “But I could if . . .”

  “Even if you do reach the crevasse, Luke, what are you going to do then? It’s a vertical fissure; it runs up and down the rock, not across. You’d have to jam your fist in there then let go of the wall and pull yourself up by only one hand. No one could do it, not even you, Luke.”

  Luke kept his eyes up while he nodded. “You’re probably right,” he said in disappointment.

  “Of course I’m right.”

  “Probably no one could do it.”

  “It’ll probably never be done.”

  “Certainly no one’s ever done it before now.”

  “Certainly not.”

  Luke continued staring above him. “Cool,” he muttered under his breath.

  The outcropping was a little more than forty feet up the wall. Forty feet. Four stories. A long way to fall. He lowered his eyes from the ledge and surveyed the scattered pile of boulders and rocks that had been strewn by the river at that base of the wall. Some were as big as his fist, some the size of small tables. All would hurt equally if he were to fall.

  Ammon nudged his brother and pointed twenty feet to their right. “There’s our spot,” he said. “See that, there’s a good crevasse we could jam our feet in, and plenty of handholds. We could climb the first forty feet there, then move to our left, come in above the overhang and go up from there.” He took a step back. “Once we’re above that ledge, it’s easy climbing from there.”

  Luke looked up and saw where his brother was pointing. “Yeah, that’s a pretty good plan. But you know, Ammon, I’d really like to try climbing up here.”

  Ammon grumbled. He knew what his brother was thinking. “Luke,” he said, “let’s not waste our time. There’s no way you’re going to get over that ledge. Look at it, Luke! It juts out at least six feet, and there’s nothing to hold onto. So you’re going to make me climb up the back side of the cliff to secure the rope, you’ll spend twenty minutes climbing the rock and who knows how long trying to get over that ledge, then you’ll have to give up and come down. By then you’ll be too exhausted to try anything else. So we’ll waste an hour for nothing. Come on man, let’s just climb over there. There’s enough cracks that I won’t have to go up the backside to secure the rope, we can use the fissures to secure our own nuts, set our own safety devices as we climb. You can climb first, then I’ll take a shot. We’ll both get in a good climb before we have to go.”

  Luke was still studying his path up the rock to the overhang. “If I can get a good grip on the crevasse, I could pull myself to the edge of the overhang. Then I could hold onto the lip, swing my legs up and pull myself over the top.”

  “Come on, man. You don’t have to do this, OK. All you’ll do is waste our time.”

  “I know I don’t have to. But I want to try.”

  “Let’s just . . . .”

  “I know what you’re going to say, let’s just climb over there. But you know what I was thinking, Ammon?”

  Ammon grunted and didn’t answer as Luke pulled on his thin leather gloves.

  “I was thinking about Sam. If he were here, you know what he would do? He’d want to see if he could climb over that ledge, and if he didn’t make it today, he’d come back tomorrow, and again the next day, and the next day after that. He’d figure a way to get up and over that ledge! You know that he would. He’d try a thousand times if he had to, but he’d figure a way to get over that outcropping up there.”

  Ammon shook his head. “Sam’s a stubborn fool.”

  “Stubborn? Maybe. I guess. But is stubborn bad? Because when I watch Sam put his mind to something and never give up, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing, you know.”

  Ammon shook his head again. “I just want a nice, normal gut-wrenching climb. I want to get a good workout, then get back to school. You, on the other hand, want to prove something to yourself. You want to prove something to Sam, and he’s not even here.”

  “I don’t have to prove anything.”

  “Then let’s climb over there where it isn’t so dangerous and we won’t be wasting our time!” Ammon shot back in exasperation.

  Luke was strapping his climbing harness on. “I’m going to try it here, Ammon. Now will you go up and secure the rope, or are you going to make me do it?”

  Ammon huffed in frustration, then picked up the rope and started up the trail that led up the backside of the cliff.

  • • •

  Balaam and Roth stood very close to the brothers, their faces contorted in burning jealousy a
nd hate. Lucifer stood beside them, but he stayed out of the way. After their failure to destroy the girl in Persia, he knew his servants were desperate for even a small victory. So he kept the pressure on them, throwing glares of suspicion and belittlement in their direction. “Let them work,” thought Lucifer. “Let them compete with each other. Keep them motivated by jealousy and desire to push the other out of the way.”

  Balaam turned toward the mortals, his eyes narrowing with fear. These young men had the power to threaten them. So they had to be destroyed.

  Glancing toward Lucifer, Balaam caught a glimpse of his own ugliness reflected in Lucifer’s dark eyes and stepped back. Like Lucifer, Balaam was pale and deadly, a corpse suspended in the air, his face so lifeless and dreary he couldn’t stand the sight of himself. He was hideous and he knew it, but he no longer cared. But unlike Lucifer, who could still hide his repulsiveness if someone was willing to believe in his lies, Balaam was dark, cruel and ugly, and pretended to be nothing else.

  Lucifer walked in a circle around the young men, listening to them talking while thinking to himself. Balaam watched him carefully, but remained still.

  Lucifer was dressed in his normal garb; braided sandals, a red sash and a flowing gray robe, dark as smoke but with a light sheen, as if there was some unseen power there. His hood fell over his shoulders and his hair flowed down his neck. His feet were as worn and sullied as any vagabond who walked the earth.

  Balaam studied Lucifer from out of the corner of his eye, noting the growing strength of his shoulders and his powerful arms. Lucifer’s dark hair seemed to shimmer and his eyes burned with fire. He stood in great arrogance, almost reeking in power while basking in the glory that his hateful lies had produced. The world was more evil than it had ever been; more brutal, more carnal and more sinful, and the more the world bathed in evil, the more powerful Lucifer had become.

  But there was growing good among the shadows—these young brothers, for example—and Balaam was troubled. Like tiny points of light that penetrated the darkness, the great spirits had arrived to make their mark on the world, and they too were growing powerful, more pure and more clear. That made Balaam wonder . . . .

  He kicked at the ground with unease.

  Lucifer turned to look at him suddenly, as if he had read his mind. “You see them too, servant Balaam?” he asked in a deadly voice.

  Balaam nodded slowly.

  “You think they grow stronger? And you think that I grow weak?”

  Balaam swallowed and bowed. “No Master Mayhem,” he pleaded in a trembling voice. “You are the Great Master, king of this world!”

  Lucifer dismissed him with an angry wave of his hand. “That is right, Balaam. I am the king of this world! I am its glory and splendor, its magnificent power! And I am still rising! My day is soon to come! And as my glory grows, the veil between my angels and this world will come down. A few see me now, but in time all will see. I will stand in my dark glory before them and they shall see me as I am! I appear unto a few now, but the time is soon coming when I will appear unto all. I will step forward in power and claim this world for my own! And then they shall know, and their mouths shall confess, that it is my glory that burns bright in this land!”

  Balaam nodded eagerly but said nothing, his gut crunching into a tight ball as he lowered his eyes, knowing they would betray him if Lucifer saw. Balaam wanted to believe, he wanted it desperately, but he felt in his heart that it simply wasn’t true. He felt his gloom rising as the final battle approached, the day when he would be stripped of his power and brought to his knees, when Lucifer’s kingdom would be shattered and his minions destroyed.

  The Deceiver watched Balaam, noting that he kept his eyes down. “Do you believe me, Master Balaam?” he sneered.

  “Master Mayhem, I want to believe!”

  “If you ever had faith in me, Master Balaam, then you’d better have faith in me now. You are tied to my future. I am all that you have. So when you pray to me, Balaam, you had better believe your own words!”

  Balaam began to tremble in terrible fear. He had seen Lucifer angry, and the last thing Balaam wanted was to feel Lucifer’s anger now! Balaam quivered, then dropped to one knee. “I believe, Master Mayhem!” he cried in a loud voice.

  The Deceiver grunted in disgust, then turned away once more.

  Lucifer moved a step toward the brothers and faced them, looking them straight in the eyes. They moved and talked around him, completely unaware that he was standing so close that he could plant thoughts into their minds.

  Staring at them, the vaguest of memories came flooding back. It was lost in fog—it had been so long ago—but as he concentrated, it came to him.

  Long ago . . . another place . . . they stood in a dark stairway in Lucifer’s old world. It was black and suffocating, and smelled of rot and wet soil. A cold rain pelted the rock structure and the wail of Lucifer’s followers lifted through the air.

  A few of those who fought against him stood before him at the top of the stairs. Lucifer stepped toward them, cursing as he moved. “I will remember what you have done here!” he screamed. “I will curse you forever if you cast me down to earth. So look at me! Remember me! Because I will remember you!”

  Lucifer’s eyes burned with emotion as the memory flooded back.

  Then he looked at the two brothers, his eyes red with hate. Looking at them, he realized the power that they held. The things that they would do! The men they would become! The people they would touch and the lives they would change!

  He fumed, his eyes burning. But what could he do to stop them?

  “If I could, I would kill them,” he sneered to his slave. “I would torture them, beat them and cause them great pain. I would make them cry for mercy, then beat them some more. Give me a chance and I would teach them everything I know about misery and despair!”

  Balaam only watched Lucifer. Balaam had heard it all before.

  Lucifer fumed a long moment, pacing side to side. Then he suddenly stopped and smiled weakly, exposing his teeth.

  He peered at Luke for a moment.

  Each mortal had a weakness and he remembered now what failings these young mortals had. Sometimes Ammon wasn’t careful, and Luke had too much pride. So that’s where he would begin. “I may not be able to hurt them,” he hissed, “but maybe I can get them to hurt themselves. If we can distract them, if we can convince them to be careless, then that might be enough.”

  Balaam slowly nodded. Careless. Yes, careless. It was a tool that had been used against the young so many times before.

  The Deceiver muttered angrily as he walked toward Luke. “He is young. He is foolish. There might be a way . . . .”

  Balaam watched Ammon pick up his rope and begin to walk up the trail.

  “Stay with him,” Lucifer commanded. “Try to distract him. Do anything that you can. Make him act foolish. Concentrate on his anger. Shout distractions in his head!”

  Balaam bowed and followed Ammon as he walked up the trail.

  Lucifer watched them go, then moved toward Roth. “Play on his pride,” he commanded as he pointed to the younger brother. “His pride has the power to destroy him if you work him just right.”

  Roth nodded, then bowed and ran toward the mortal.

  Positioning himself near Luke’s head, Roth leaned toward him, whispering into his ear. “You’re the best. This will be easy. You’re good enough, there’s no reason to be careful anymore.”

  FOUR

  The two men stood and walked through an open glass door looking out on a garden that stretched for acres behind the villa. They walked through the garden slowly, following the rock path that led to a gushing waterfall.

  “The world is changing, General Brighton,” the prince said as they walked. “Indeed, in many ways it is too late. Too much has changed already! You now have many enemies throughout the world.”

  Brighton glanced sideways at the prince. “Our friends are few, but that has always been the case,” he answered calml
y.

  “No, Neil. This is different. From the east to the west, you are nearly alone. Europe hates you now unlike ever before.”

  “Old Europe, perhaps,” the general interrupted. “But the new Europe, the emerging Europe, they are on our side.”

  The prince shook his head. “Maybe. It doesn’t matter. Not now anyway, and what I said is still true. Most hate you now for your strength and the effect you have. They see you as a soaring eagle. None of them can stand to see you so powerful, and the effect of your decisions! I don’t know if you realize how much influence you have. Your economy sneezes, and nations catch pneumonia. You go into the Great Recession and people starve throughout the world. You languish through a recovery no one believes is real, and more people die from the economic shock that started on your shores. You develop a foreign initiative and entire governments fall. You institute a new policy and by the time it reaches your allies, it is the tip of a whip that snaps at their heads. You are so powerful, but yet so naïve. Like a clumsy giant, you wander across the globe, crushing everything under your feet without looking down. Is it any surprise so many would like to see you brought to your knees?”

  Brighton considered a moment. “Perhaps. But a gentle giant is a better description, I think, and all this talk of the United States seeking world domination is completely absurd! Just the ranting of societies who have failed and need someone to blame. Some people despise us, we know that. Much of Europe. Many Middle Eastern nations. Dictators and tyrants. We have enemies. But there are a few who seem to be in our camp.”

  “Hmm!” the prince scoffed. “I wouldn’t be so sure. There are enemies rising, many foes in the world, and this is very important, Neil, so you must listen to me! There are many kinds of enemies that one needs to fear. Those you know and can identify, they are the very best kind. You see them, can study them, can counter their moves. But there are other enemies, far more deadly, those who plot in secret places but hide in the light. There may be friends, even loved ones . . . .” Prince Saud’s voice drifted off.