A Abba's Apocalypse (12 page)

treasure we bring with us into eternity.

              I rip back my watch cover and see I’m running behind my time schedule. “I got to go again,” I tell Dave. “Wait!” he exclaims. “I don’t even know what happened to you, or why you were gone so long.” I stand and strap on my empty rucksack as Dave commands, “I’m going too!” I freeze at the possibility of him even suggesting his wiliness to face danger.

I tell him “Where I’m going is evil. What I’m going to do will take a miracle. I’m sorry Dave, but you can’t come.” I’m worried Dave just doesn’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t blame him after all that’s happened. “I’m going with you!” demands Dave. “I don’t care anymore what happens to me. I want to help, and I’m going to help. If you leave me, I swear I’ll just follow you. Do you want that on your conscience?” I again shake my head side to side in amazement. I have this epiphany in my spirit. I know in my heart I got to take Dave along. I tell my buddy, “Okay, you can come. Just make sure you stay close to me and do exactly what I say.” Dave’s facial expression seems puzzled at my acceptance of his demand. “You mean you’re not going to argue about me coming?” I reply, “No.” “Why?” he asks. I tell him, “Because, it’s a God thing.” Dave grabs his jacket, and we’re out the back door.

              After making it to the backyard fence Dave whispers, “Where’re we going?” I pop my head over for a look around, and then return saying, “The old ‘Gardener Floral Mill’ at the edge of town; and we got about 30 minutes to get there.” I pull myself over, jumping down to a squatting position. The area seems clear, so I stand and offer my hand of assistance over the top of the fence to Dave. I feel his right hand fingers join mine. I grab and pull his hand helping him climb over. We squat for a final look around before taking off. Dave speaks softly, “Can you tell me why we are going there?” I advise him, “It’s to free some Irreverent prisoners. Let’s move out.” Dave’s mouth forms an oval that’s ready to speak. But, I put my index finger to my mouth signifying a “shhh” sound.

              We move along in 40 feet intervals towards our

objective. We advance in turns, with one leading and the other observing. Neither advances unless the forward position gives

the silent “okay, all clear” sign. I see Dave’s hand bend forward telling me, “It’s okay to advance.” We repeat this procedure for close to a mile and a half. We’re not far from the old floral mill as we hear the bushes ahead make a rustling

and snapping sound. We freeze instantly and observe for

what may be causing it. Dave looks back at me, waiting for my command on what to do next. I jerk my left hand towards Dave, and begin pushing air downward with it. This is the symbol for him to stay put, even if I move out. I advance and run past him moving closer to the bushes that the sound came from. About fifty feet away, I see a person stand and run out of it to another bush further away. I see another person repeat the same maneuver joining the first person in that same bush. I can sense these armatures are Irreverent. I have this feeling these are my brothers and sister.  

              I wave Dave to advance to my hiding spot. It’s taking time for him to catch up, as I am about three maneuvers ahead. I wave him on to my hiding location behind some trash cans. After Dave arrives I murmur, “I think it’s the group from ‘T’ that’s going to meet us.”  We begin to move while staying just behind them-just in case I’m wrong. I see the old mill’s silhouette emerge above the tree tops. I know we’re real close now. I hear some commotion off in the distance. Again, I hear something. This time it is a bunch of sounds that seem like faint squeals. My heart cringes thinking it could be the sound of a child being tormented. I through all “caution to the wind” and wave Dave to move fast alongside me. I forgo the time consuming maneuvering procedure and start running to the rendezvous point. My spirit speaks, “Time is of the essence!”

              I approach the back of the old floral mill and see the group ahead entering its back door. I know it’s my brothers as we maintain our rapid pace. We are about a minute behind the group as we close in. I can hear Dave just behind me panting between my huffing breaths. I’m praying that our

stamping feet, gasping, and the swishing of my sack doesn’t alert a Demon.

              We make it to the mill and run right in the dark open backdoor. I run into the darken figure I think is Randy, startling him, as he stops my forward progress. Randy analyzes my face in the dark. He double checks it to

make sure it’s really me. My body wants to bend forward and

just suck up all the air my lungs will hold, but Randy’s long grasping arms and body won’t let me. Five seconds later, Dave runs right into my back. This action pushes the bunch of us about three feet further ahead. A distant shadow speaks, “I brought some things that can possibly help us.” This voice sounds like Scotty’s, but the darkness hides his true identity. I’m too exhausted to inquire “who said that?” I just listen as Dave and I gasp. Someone snaps something, as a green glow grows out of the dark. It reveals my comrades’ friendly faces. We form a huddle formation so we can discuss more quietly our plan of action. Pastor Paul leads the gallery of green floating faces and asks, “Did you hear the screams coming from the abandon department store?” I answer, “Dave and me heard it a few minutes ago.” Amanda whispers, “We need to hurry. I heard children screaming!” We are in a dilemma on what to do. Paul proposes we pray together for guidance and a solution. We bow our faces and firmly grasp hands as he directs us in prayer.

              “Oh Lord of lords and God of all, please hear our prayer. We need your supernatural help this night. Please Jesus, show us what we need to do this night to defeat this evil enemy. Please lead us Lord along the path we must take. Dear God, please give us a revelation right now. Be with us this night and supernaturally protect us. We stand tonight on faith to our Most High and mighty God. Amen.” We lift our heads to see the glistening green glow that glitters in every teary eye. Each face is full of them.

              A pounding sound approaches our position through the “old mill’s” doorway. We see one hefty shadow

stampeding towards us as our hearts swell with anticipation. It looks like a torpedo bouncing in the night sea, while it constantly readjusts its aim. The thumping of its feet becomes fearfully deafening. We know we have no time to defend against its pursuit. The only thing we can do is just watch it “zero in” on our destruction. And, pray!

              A deep loud voice precedes this fairly large man saying

“Is there anyone in there?” We don’t dare respond to its question and give our presence and position away. “Moses; it’s me Moses,” this dark figure bellows. I recognize in an instant the owner of this voice. “Don’t fret fellows, it’s my friend Moses.” His huffing and puffing is leaving a contrail of small white misty clouds. He rushes through the doorway revealing his anxious face. We stretch out our arms to stop Moses from crashing through us. He runs right in to me knocking me back several feet. I hug him and hold him up as his body begins to buckle. He urgently tries to say something, but his exhausted body requires all the air it will take to talk. “Catch your breath buddy,” I say, while keeping him propped up. I advise the others that Moses is a recent friend and new Christian Brother. Great relief comes over them as they pat the large guy; corporately congratulating him in friendship. “Joshua and Jericho,” Moses spews. “I..., I..., I was told!” Moses pauses for his next breath, “...to tell you Joey, these words, ‘Joshua and Jericho’.” He pauses again as a majestic smile appears. “I had a vision or something,” Moses proclaims! New life comes over him as his breathing returns. “It was wonderful. It was from a big beautiful Angel.” Moses strongly warns us that he’s not crazy. “I just know it was real. The Angel told me to hurry and go tell Joey these words. He told me he would guide me to you. And, he did. He also told me to say, ‘Trust in the Lord’.” Moses turns his head looking at every face. It’s like he desperately desires for us to believe him, but he seems surprised that we accept his message without doubt. Suddenly, it hits me like a ton of bricks. I command the group, “These words are how we will win

tonight.”

              I know what those words mean now, and I know what we are supposed to do. “We’re going to do what Joshua did in the Bible.” I think back to my Sunday school days that my momma made me attend. I vividly remember the story of “Jericho.” God gives Joshua a game plan to conquer his enemy, but it will involve extreme faith. The plan requires             

Joshua and the Israelites to march once a day around the impenetrable fortified kingdom of Jericho. The victory comes on the seventh day. During the preceding six days they are ridiculed by Jericho’s soldiers. On the seventh day they shout and blow horns while the procession completes seven trips around the city. Finally, Jericho’s walls crumble and victory is theirs. I suddenly realize how they defeated their foes. They acted in great faith believing God would do the impossible.

              “We will walk around Jericho and God will give us the victory,” I exclaim! My spirit authenticates my decision. It gives me a peace surpassing all understanding. I know this is the right choice as surely as I know God is with us tonight. “Here’s what we are going to do.”

              I explain each of our tasks for this night. Our group files out the old “Gardener Mill,” as fear and doubt immediately attacks us. We move quietly and steadily toward the LD headquarter and prison. Pastor Paul begins praying mildly “Psalms” 23. This is the cadence we march to this night. It will be our battle cry throughout the rest of the fight.

              Paul speaks parts of these verses while our feet keep to its rhythm. Each of our voices softly recants this section of the divine prayer. “Even though I walk,” our pastor sings. “Through the valley of,” we reply. “The shadow of death,” we resonate. “We will fear not.” This verse suffocates the fire of fear and kindles the flame of faith. There is order in our steps and unity in our hearts. “For, you are with me!” Paul loudly proclaims; and each soldier robustly confirms. We have forgone all our stealth as we arrive at the department store

property. Proudly we sing our praises towards heaven. A

great rumble begins shaking this unholy ground as we proceed to step on it. The sand is soaked with martyr’s blood screaming to be sanctified. Their blood begs for vengeance with each reverent step we take. I can feel the martyred returning with each closer step. The war is about to begin as we file boldly onto the battlefield.

              A fog begins forming from the field and fizzles up

under the pressure of our holy feet. We feel the innocent blood boiling up from the sand that it was forced to swallow. It releases an eerie steam of screams. It floats mysteriously upward concealing our presence, while leaving only a faint impression of where the department store once stood. The building top reveals a rampart of red floating eyes. They know we’re here. The fog fears not as it slaps and flogs these foes with the haunting words, “Justice.” Their evil red eyes stand firm, but I know they tremble. I see red streaks vibrating in the dark just beyond the mist.

              We stop and huddle, as I reach in my sack and remove the torches we’ll use in battle. I hand two sticks to each of my fellow comrades. We return to our file and stretch-out our ranks to the prescribed extended arm distance. Repeating snaps of the sticks give life to the night. Each soldier holds their green torches in each of their hands as we lift our arms and prayers. Amidst this glorious green glow we are assaulted by ridicule and evil laughter. Vulgar gestures are shot at us. But, this evil cannot penetrate the protection of this halo of jade. The majestic mist eats their malign assault while we stand fast in our praying. The fiends continue to fight the fog, but our friend just digests their toxic mess. It chews and swirls their vile swearing; then vomits and hurls it back at them. We slowly march into battle as the fog opens and frees a path before us.

              The menace is confined to its fortress. We sense the demonic apprehension as the fog surrounds them. We extend our line further as we proceed closer. The enemy tries out maneuvering the fog by hurling doubt and catapulting fear

over top it. “We’ll rip the flesh right off you pitiful puny people, and tear apart our prisoners.” We defend ourselves with the shield of faith, and deflect these mortal blows. We firmly and steadily advance towards our objective, slashing with our swords of truth. “We will fear-no evil, for you are with us,” we loudly proclaim! The cumulative reverberations of our prayers intensify, as they penetrate and stir the fog.

The steam of the innocent slain savors this sweet serenade. It swallows our slashing words and amplifies them. The fog blasts the building with our bombs of praise over and over. Each prayer of faith is a direct hit on each damned soul. Each of our prayer’s strikes a Demon with the words of truth; ripping it apart. The red eyes of the night bleed down the rampart, as horrid and ghastly screams beg mercy and relief from their tormentor. My heart says to me, “Never give mercy to evil, and none shall be given on this night.”

              Each step I take closer to the building, builds one more block in our fortress of faith. I thrust my arms forward again, and again, as I rebuke this enemy. Each word I say, and each jab of my arms, stabs these foes through. The green lights I hold burn my words into their dark souls. I watch as they fall from the wall into the murdering hands of the mist. I stare as my army destroys the Demons and vanquishes the LD. The evidence is their trails of screams retreating away. A remnant of the demonic enemy remains determine. But, it realizes its previous weapons are useless against our attack. We hold fast to our faith as we near the base of the building. This thickening holy fog climbs the stone, reaching up and choking the remaining foul cursing foe.

              The desperate evil forces try a last ditch effort. We continue the war while we walk in our worship. Children appear through the mist on top of the building. Each one of them cries out for their momma to come help. Evil embraces these innocent, instead. Dozens of Demons lift high dozens of tiny bodies-like offerings to the dark night sky. They threaten