Heaven and Hell (36 page)

She turned her attention to the left side of the island, the only shores that she had a chance of reaching. Here the cliffs were high, steep, and treacherous, but wait, there was something. Near the very tip of the island, was what appeared to be a tiny cove, little more than an indentation in the rock face, really. The black sea was exceedingly rough here, swirling and heaving, pounding high upon the cliffs. If she could reach it, she might be held there for a time by the swirling ooze, and eventually thrown against the cliff by a large wave. It might be her best chance to get a handhold, to pull herself from this huge deep-fryer. It was also a place where she would most certainly be hammered mercilessly against the rocks, but that didn’t matter now. She had to try.

The oily sea became rougher and more turbulent as she drew nearer to the base of the cliff. Here the current was even swifter, as if trying to yank her away from the sanctuary she sought. She wasn’t going to make it.

“No!” she gasped, struggling all the more. To come so close, only to be denied, it was too cruel.

She reached out, but the cliff was just too far away. The current swept her past the cove; then pulled her down into the swirling mire. She quickly closed her eyes, protecting them as best she could. She couldn’t have them splitting wide open in the intense heat. She might need them very soon. She was spun around, slammed into sharp submerged rocks time and time again, before being catapulted upward unto the crest of a mighty wave.

She opened her eyes to see the towering cliff face rushing toward her. Instinctively, her arms moved forward to meet the rocks. Her body hit them with tremendous force, twisting and crushing her left arm in the process. She was dazed, confused, and so very heavy. Then the realization dawned upon her; she was clinging to the cliff face several feet above the roaring turbulent blackness. She had made it! The cliff was very steep here, but not vertical. Her right hand had a firm grasp on the rocks, as did her left foot. A few seconds later, her right foot found a toe hold, but the movement of her left arm was accompanied by shooting pain. She looked at it to find it shattered and twisted, broken in no less than three places. She looked up; she knew that she had to climb. The next large wave might sweep her away, as surely as the last one had deposited her here. Time was short.

Serena’s bloody right foot lifted from the rocks, searching for another toehold. There had to be one! She felt along the cliff face, searching blindly for something she couldn’t even be certain existed. A few seconds later she found it, about a foot higher on the craggy rock wall. She swallowed hard and pushed, her bare belly scraped against the jagged hot rocks. She looked up once more, identifying a potential handhold. Her right arm swept toward it. She grasped it. It crumbled, even as she began to sense a failing balance.

“Oh God, no!” she whimpered. “Please, give me strength!”

She considered reaching back for the handhold she had found when she first reached the rocks, she quickly decided against it. She had to climb and do so quickly. Her hand moved to the left and up, searching for, then finding another shallow handhold at the very limit of her reach. She grasped it with all of her strength, her fingers curling into the small jagged hole. It held; her balance returned.

Again, she pulled upward, this time seeking a toehold with her left foot. It took several seconds of searching before her foot found a small cleft in the rocks. Again she pulled upward. All the while, the terrible sea roared beneath her, threatening, urging her upward.

Then there was a loud thundering that shook the cliff as another mighty wave pounded the rocks below her. The black ooze swept upward, engulfing her feet, then her legs, up to her thighs. She felt the terrible burning grasp of her nemesis, as it swept violently around her. She cried as an old familiar pain engulfed her to her waist. Her grip on the rocks tightened. She felt the scalding liquid trying to dislodge her, trying to return her to the place to which she had been sentenced. Surely, if she lost her footholds, her right arm alone could not hold her weight.

In Serena’s mind, the black oily sea had become a living breathing entity, a sort of cruel and greedy child that had been denied one of its favorite play things. It had many toys, scattered carelessly and randomly about, yet it was mindful of them all. No, it would not part with a single one of them and certainly not this one. It would have this toy back; playtime wasn’t over yet. It demanded that she abandon this refuge that she had found, and allow herself to fall back into its waiting arms so that the game might continue.

Serena struggled to clear her head. No, she couldn’t think this way, and she couldn’t give up now. She gasped, cringed, but held firm. This had to end. She would see the end of it. After a few seconds, the sea receded once more. She regained her wits and resumed her climb.

If only she could have used her left arm, yet it hung uselessly at her side. Still she pushed upward, finding a new toehold, finding a new handhold, pulling her ravaged body toward the black skies overhead. She was discovering strength and determination that she never realized she possessed.

Behind her she heard the roar of yet another mighty wave, but this one barely caressed her feet with its scalding touch. Again she pulled upward, making slow but steady progress, one new foothold, one new handhold at a time.

Serena had never been an accomplished climber, had never had a single lesson in this fine art, but desperation and necessity made excellent teachers. To fail now was unthinkable; therefore, she could not fail. Though the pain that racked her body made it difficult for her to think, she struggled to focus her full attention upon the rugged rock wall before her and the task ahead. The climbing process had become practically mechanical.

When she at last looked down, she was shocked to see how far she had progressed. She was far beyond the reach of the fiery sea. Another flash of lightning caught her attention, this time it was accompanied by a distant rumble of thunder. In the desperation of the moment, she had forgotten about this second complication. The terrible storm with its rain of vitriol was drawing closer.

Serena had been lucky so far, she had accomplished the unthinkable, escape from the scalding sea. Better still, she had not attracted the attention of any demon. “Lord, thank you for Your mercy,” she whispered.

Serena was not so certain that God even heard her prayer of thanks, yet it had been offered nevertheless. She looked upward to see yet another blessing. Only 10 feet above her, was a narrow ledge slashed into the steep rocky slope. She wasn’t sure if it was natural or made by the hands of something else, but right now she didn’t care. She pressed on.

Less than a minute found her crawling onto the 4-foot-wide ledge. She rolled over unto her back and gazed into the dark sky.

No demon wings reflected the light of the sea below, and only the distant crashing of the breakers on the rocks broke the silence. So far so good. She should move on, search for cover, yet she lay there motionless.

Her left arm pained her terribly as its bones realigned themselves and fused together once more. She felt a terrible itching from head to toe as her flesh swiftly healed, reversing months of abuse in minutes. Within the depths of her body, her blood slowly cooled, and with it, the awful pain within her heart and lungs subsided.

“Lord, just another minute. Please, give me just one more minute of peace,” she pleaded, in a voice no louder than a whisper. “How wonderful it would be to become a whole woman once again, just for a little while.”

Her wish was granted; the dark sky remained empty, free of menacing demons. Even the terrible itching, that always accompanied healing in Hell, began to subside. She slowly raised her right arm in front of her. By the light of the fires below, she beheld her flesh. She was surprised to discover that most of the dark viscous oil had dripped away. Her flesh was soft and whole again, free of the dreadful scars, gashes, and boils that had covered it for so long.

Strength was returning to her left arm as well, and the pain that had radiated from deep within was nearly gone. How difficult it would be to return to the great sea of fire, to continue her eternal sentence, and surely she must return. Satan could not be cheated, not here. His hatred, his vengeance upon humanity, had to be quenched in pain and suffering. Yet, the silence remained unbroken, and Serena’s peace undisturbed. It was inconceivable; her pain was gone. In this blessed moment, she had found the peace that had eluded her for months. On Earth, she had taken this simple sensation—the ability to rest free of pain—for granted. Now it was the most precious gift she could imagine, greater than any earthly riches. In the absence of pain, she drifted toward sleep.

As she faded away, she could hear a distant voice, a voice calling her name.

“Get up, get up, Serena,” it cried. “Please, Serena, you’ve got to get up.” It sounded like Chris. It had been so long since she had heard his sweet voice. Yet it was him, she was sure of it.

It was the loud thunder that finally stirred her to action—a sound she knew all too well. It heralded the coming of the storm that would very soon strike the island with pouring sheets of burning acid rain. She quickly rose to a sitting position. She was dizzy and confused, as she did her best to push back the veil of sleep. How long had she been asleep? She had no idea, but it couldn’t have been too long.

As she turned, her long hair swept across her face, it felt wonderful. She took a strand of it in her hand, caressing it. It was as it had always been, restored to its natural state. But there was no time to savor this sensation; time was running short, she had to find refuge, any cover she could find from the encroaching storm. She swiftly surveyed the ledge and was surprised to discover that this place of rest wasn’t just an isolated shelf along the mountainside, but a full blown trail cut into the flanks of the island. Cut by whom? She wasn’t so sure that she wanted to know the answer to that one.

The trail sloped gently downward, perhaps leading to the low lands she had seen on the far end of the island. Should she head off in that direction? Would she find shelter? If only there was more time.

She turned in the other direction. Beyond the cliffs, faintly illuminated by the burning sea, she saw the towering clouds, swiftly sweeping toward the craggy island. It was a frightening apparition, a billowing maelstrom aglow from the pure power that pulsed within, with ragged bolts of lightning coursing around it. The storm was almost upon her. Its gale force winds might sweep her back into the sea.

But something caught her eye—a cleft in the rocks less than a dozen feet away. She crawled toward it. Perhaps it was deep enough to offer her some cover from the torrents of acid that would soon drop from the angry sky. As she got closer she saw it wasn’t just a cleft, but a cave—large enough to walk in without stooping and nearly as wide as it was high. It extended far into the darkness.

Serena hesitated at its mouth. She could feel the cool breeze that emanated from within, a breeze free of the pungent odor of sulfur. Could it possibly be? Did she detect just the trace of moisture in this cool air? It was a wonderful smell. This cave would not only offer her shelter from the approaching acid rain, but was also a hiding place from the demons. It was almost too good to be true. She drew back, considering her circumstances. “No, too convenient, too easy,” she whispered.

A trap? Might there be something in the depths of this cave that would make the agony of the sea of fire and the sting of the acid rains pale by comparison? No, nothing could be so terrible.

The rising wind, filled with the acrid aroma of acid, reached her nostrils. She turned to see the horrible rain, the encroaching gray veil illuminated by the lightning in the clouds beyond. Her time was running out. What choice did she really have? Without further hesitation, she ventured into the darkness, feeling her way along the smooth cavern wall. She traveled on her hands and knees, unable to find the strength, or stability, to rise to her feet. No, that would come later. For now, it was best to crawl before she walked.

The cave walls were dry and surprisingly cool, sharply contrasting the torrid environment beyond. The sound of the crashing waves, the wind, the thunder, slowly faded, as she crawled deeper into the darkness. She was now 20 feet or more into the passageway, and though her eyes had become somewhat accustomed to the darkness, she could discern little of the passageway around her.

As she moved on, the narrow tunnel seemed to open up into a sizable chamber. Finally, her hand met a cool wall in front of her, and she sat down facing the entrance of the cave, illuminated by the almost continual lightning. She figured that she was 30 or 40 feet in. The slight upward slope of the passage would keep the acid rain from streaming into the tunnel. She was safe for the moment.

Then it began; the terrible rain. Slowly at first, the drops making a slight hissing sound as they struck the black rocks. Quickly it escalated into a torrential downpour. The winds howled, making a strange whistling sound, as they swept over the pitted rocks and around the mouth of the cave. Then came the hot burning sulfur. Marble-sized pellets surrounded in a halo of blue flame pelted the ground unmercifully. Serena offered up a prayer, for others caught on that awful sea during this eternal night, as she watched the terrible pyrotechnics from the safety of the cave. She even thought of her mother, trapped in that horrible underground furnace. She had not thought of her in a long time. Her own agony had left little room in her mind for anything else. Now her mind, released from its dreadful bonds, wandered into unexplored territories.