Authors: Phillip W. Simpson
“So touching,” sneered Satan. “Touching but futile. Here’s the thing though. The wound from Soulstealer won’t heal, even with his extraordinary powers of recuperation. Only I can save him. Of course there is a condition.”
“What?” pleaded Aimi, tears streaming down her face. “Anything.”
“Anything?” Satan laughed. “Well, in that case my conditions are as follows. Samael becomes my little horn, with unlimited power over all those weakling mortals and you remain here, with me, in Hell.”
“No,” whispered Sam, his voice weak and hoarse.
But like his voice, he could feel his resolve weakening. His mind felt foggy. Satan’s words promised everything. Despite himself, he felt tempted. Why not? No one appreciated him on Earth. And hadn’t he proven to his father that he was stronger than his brother? He deserved to take his rightful place at his father’s side. A part of him knew that this wasn’t his true self speaking, but he was almost past the point of caring. Wouldn’t Aimi be safe here? And he could visit her whenever he liked.
“Agreed,” said Aimi quickly.
“Very well then.” Satan snapped his fingers.
Sam felt something happening around his injury, a knitting together, a resetting. Incredibly, he suddenly felt much restored. With Aimi clinging to him, he stood, shakily at first and then with gathering strength.
“Well, that’s settled then,” said Satan, all slick charm.
“I think not!” said a voice over Sam’s shoulder.
Satan’s insidious spell was suddenly broken and Sam felt his mind clearing. The promises and whispered lies evaporated. What had he been thinking? Join Satan?
Leave Aimi in Hell? Sheer idiocy!
“You!” hissed Satan. “You can’t interfere here.”
Sam turned. Behind him stood the Watcher, Samyaza. With him was Gabriel.
“I can and I will,” said Gabriel. “Thanks to the assistance of this Grigori, I am here. You are out of order, Morning Star, and you know it.” She met Satan’s stare of pure hatred without flinching. “You broke the rules when you took this child. She was destined to dwell in Heaven and that’s where she belongs.”
Satan turned his glare onto the Watcher. “I warned you not to interfere.” He waved a hand casually and Samyaza’s beautiful body was suddenly engulfed in flame. The Watcher screamed, writhing in agony. There was a massive clap of thunder, momentarily stunning Sam. When he looked up again, the Watcher was gone.
“That is how I deal with those who cross me,” said Satan grimly, looking directly at Gabriel. “Do you really want to suffer the same fate?”
“Your threats don’t scare me,” she said, matching his stare. “I am under His protection, even here.”
“There are limits, even for Him.” He looked down at Sam. “What about him?” demanded Satan. “He agreed to join my side. He belongs to me now.”
“He did no such thing. The girl may have agreed with your terms but he never did. I believe he declined your generous offer. So, on that note, we have no further business here.”
Satan glared at Sam with a hatred so pure it made him flinch. “This isn’t over, my son. It’s barely just begun. My time is now. You have changed nothing. Nothing. Enjoy your pathetic little victory for now.”
With another clap of thunder, he disappeared, taking the body of Semiazas with him.
A flood of weariness washed over Sam. He staggered and would’ve fallen but for the small figure that was suddenly in his arms, holding him up. Aimi.
“Let’s leave this place, shall we?” said Gabriel. “I can’t enter this place under my own power, but I can certainly get us out of here.”
Suddenly, they were in Hell no longer. Sam looked around in wonder, his eyes wide. They were back in the Cathedral. Rubble littered the floor. Most of the great ceiling had fallen down, crushing the pews. Shell impacts had left gaping holes in the walls. Small fires burnt here and there but the battle, it seemed, had gone Gabriel’s way. Between the brigade of angels and Colonel Sumner’s men, the horde of demons and other followers of the Antichrist were routed. Even as he watched, demons were disappearing through their gateways in disarray. Small, isolated battles were still being fought but the demonic army had been defeated. For now.
Then the magnitude of what had happened hit him. The full realisation of who he held in his arms finally dawned on him. Aimi. His love. He turned towards her, basking in the adoration he saw in her face.
Aimi stroked his cheek the way she had many times in the past and he would have wept if he could. She brought his face down to hers and they kissed. Time seemed to stop as he lost himself in her embrace. His arms tightened around her. He’d thought she was lost to him forever and now that he had her back, he would never let her go again.
“Samael,”said a gentle voice nearby. Gabriel. “Samael, you have to release her.”
He wrenched his face away from Aimi’s with an effort and looked up at Gabriel who was now standing at his side.
“What?” he said, confused.
“She doesn’t belong here. She has to come with me.”
He looked at her with disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“She was meant to have been taken in the Rapture. She belongs in Heaven.”
“No,” he cried. “You can’t have her.”
He felt Aimi’s hand caress his cheek again. “Sam? Sam, look at me.” He did and he could see tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s Ok,” she said. “Gabriel’s right. I have to go with her.”
“No,” he cried again, sudden wrath threatening to overtake him. “It’s not fair!”
“I know,” said Aimi sadly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “But I have to.”
Sam hung his head. He knew that what Gabriel and Aimi were telling him was the truth. He was being selfish again. Who was he to deny Aimi the right to ascend to Heaven? Would he really condemn her to a further seven years of Hell on earth? He wanted to, despite this, but in his heart, he knew it was the wrong thing to do.
He felt Aimi’s tiny hand in his. She placed something in his hand.
“We will be together one day,” she said, smiling at him. “I know we will. Stay strong and remember me. I will love you forever.”
Gabriel gently removed Aimi from his grasp. The Archangel gathered Aimi into her arms and together, they took flight. He watched them soar up into the nave and through the gaping hole in the ceiling. Suddenly, they were gone.
He sank down onto his knees in an abyss of misery so deep that a cry of pain slipped through his lips. His heart felt like it was breaking. Just when he had her back, she was taken from him again.
He looked down at his closed fist. Slowly, he opened it. The cross and chain that had once belonged to his mother and that he had given Aimi many years earlier, lay cold against his palm. A small part of his mind registered that it did not burn him as it once did.
“I love you, too,” he told the empty air.
“He is despised and rejected by men, a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.”
The figure trudged along the road, sending tiny drifts of ash fluttering in his wake. He was dressed in jeans and sturdy hiking boots. The hood of his sweatshirt was pulled up, obscuring his features from the early morning light. He wore a backpack with a long sword strapped to it. Another sword was tucked into the belt at his waist.
The road seemed to stretch on for ever, angling towards the east. The figure looked neither to the left or the right as he marched on under the grey sky, his pace unwavering. Time passed. He came to a crossroads. On a large flat rock under a sign post sat a winged female.
“Hello, Gabriel,” said Sam. “Long time no see.”
Gabriel smiled and stood. “Good to see you too, Samael. How are you?”
Sam shrugged. “As well as can be expected,” he sighed.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. Where the road takes me, I expect.”
“You know this isn’t over, don’t you?”
“Of course,” he replied, nodding his head.
“Satan has sustained a slight set-back, that’s all. The Antichrist will return, and I suspect that when he does, things will get much, much worse.”
Sam expected nothing else. There was still well over six years left before the Tribulation ended. The defeat of the Antichrist had done little to diminish the number of demons who appeared at night. Even L.A, where the demonic forces had suffered their greatest defeat, was still plagued by them.
“I know,” said Sam.
Gabriel tilted her head and looked at him sideways. “Why didn’t you stay?”
“You mean with Colonel Sumner?”he asked. “Because he didn’t need me. Looked like he had things well under control. Besides, I like to work alone.”
It was true; he did like to work alone. More importantly, despite his actions during the battle against the Antichrist, he had done little to allay the fears of the soldiers. They still regarded him with suspicion and he knew that he would never be completely trusted. He stayed only long enough to ensure that his wounds had healed. The other cuts inflicted by his brother’s hell-wrought blade were unusually slow to mend.
“And what about Grace?”
Sam winced with guilt at the memory. After Gabriel had taken Aimi, Sam had finally taken note of what was happening around him. Gabriel had done an excellent job holding off the horde of demons that had appeared within the nave of the Cathedral. Colonel Sumner’s troops had simply finished them off. The victory hadn’t come without cost though. Many of his soldiers had been injured or killed during the attack. Some had just disappeared. Grace was one of them. Sam had searched for hours but it was no use – Grace had gone.
He tried to tell himself that maybe she had become lost or disorientated but he knew that he was just deceiving himself. There was no trace of her back at the cash and carry either. There was only one possible solution. Grace had been taken to Hell. She had been taken to Hell because he had left her behind. He had left her. It was his fault.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “She must be in Hell but how am I supposed to find her? There are countless millions of souls down there. I thought about just going there, but what then?”
“There might just be a way, you know,” said Gabriel, a tiny smile hovering on her lips.
“How?” demanded Sam. “Tell me. You must tell me.”
“Sorry,”she said, genuinely sounding like she was, “but I can’t. The rules again. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
He put his head down, rubbing his face wearily with one hand. It was never easy. Nothing was ever easy. He felt one of Gabriel’s hands on his shoulder.
“I’m confident you will find a way. Never give up hope, Samael.”
“And Aimi?” he asked. “How is she?”
“Happy. Content. She misses you of course. Like I said, never give up hope though. Don’t think that what you did went unnoticed. However, be warned that while some things change, others can never be.”
Sam nodded in understanding, fingering the chain and cross around his neck. They stood in silence for a moment.
“What will you do now?” she asked.
“Keep going,” he replied. “There are lots of innocents out there who will need my help. I’ll do what I can.”
Gabriel nodded in satisfaction. “Sounds like a fine plan to me.” She paused. “Anyway, it’s been good seeing you again. I have to go now but we’ll see each other again soon.”
“Ok,” said Sam, lacking anything better to say.
Gabriel took flight into the ashen sky. Sam watched her go, staring after her until she was but a tiny speck in the sky, suddenly feeling very lonely.
He sighed and looked back to the road. The crossroad appeared to give him choices but he knew he didn’t really have any. His path had been set the moment he was born.
He adjusted his pack, and making sure his hood was firmly on his head, he set off to the east again.
He had a long way to go.
No novel is written in isolation, and the Rapture is no exception. It couldn’t have been written without the assistance and feedback provided by many. As John Donne wrote, no man is an island.
Thanks go to Linda Hold, Tony Forlong, Greg Muller, Adam Evans, Vicki Marsdon, Jamie Rooney, Tim Eade and Aly Park for their helpful comments and support. My thanks, as always, to my brother John Simpson, my parents Mike and Elaine and my sister Michelle.
Jill Marshall has been there for me all along, right from inception all the way through all the various edits. She started out as my manuscript assessor and ended up as my publisher. I couldn’t have done it without her and I am eternally grateful. Jill, you are amazing.
The biblical quotes I have used throughout the book come from various versions of the bible. Quotes from Miyamoto Musashi come from (in my opinion) the definitive guide to samurai weapon use and strategy; A Book of Five Rings (2004, Allison & Busby, translated by Victor Harris). The quote from Demonolatry by Nicholas Remy comes from the 1929 version edited by Montague Summers. The original 1595 Latin version is entitled Daemonolatreiae libri tres.
Last but foremost thanks goes to my wife, Rose, for her unfailing support and love. She is my number one fan and has been forgiving and gracious when deadlines and other writing pressures have made me ill-tempered and cantankerous. Rose told me she was pregnant with our son Jack two days before I completed the first draft and I consider the timing somewhat miraculous. My love always to you both.
Phillip W. Simpson is an author of many children’s books, mostly for the education markets in the U.S, Australia and New Zealand. He has an undergraduate degree in Ancient History and a Master’s degree in Archaeology. When not writing, he works as a primary school teacher.
Phillip is married to Rosemarie and they live with their son, Jack and their two border terriers, Whiskey and Raffles.
Rapture is his first young adult novel.
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