This Present Darkness (78 page)

RIP! RAFAR’S SWORD
took off a corner of Tal’s wing. Tal kept darting and flitting, dodging and swinging, and he clipped Rafar’s shoulder and thigh. The air was filled with the stench of sulfur; the evil darkness was thick like smoke.

“The Lord rebuke you!” Tal shouted.

Clang! Rip!

“Where is the Lord?” Rafar mocked. “I see Him not!”

Whoosh!

Tal screamed in pain. His left hand hung useless.

“Lord God,” Tal cried, “His name is Rafar! Tell them!”

THE REMNANT WERE
not praying so much now; instead they watched all the excitement and the police dashing in and out of the Administration Building.

“Wow!” said John Coleman. “The Lord’s really answering our prayers!”

“Praise the Lord!” Andy replied. “That just goes to show … Edith! Edith, what’s wrong?”

Edith Duster had sunk to her knees. She was pale. The saints gathered around.

“Should we call an aid car?” someone asked.

“No! No!” Edith cried. “I know this feeling. I’ve felt it before. The Lord is trying to speak to me!”

“What?” asked Andy. “What is it?”

“Well, quit your gabbing and let me pray and I’ll tell you!”

Edith started to weep. “There’s still an evil spirit out there,” she cried. “He’s doing great mischief. His name is … Raphael … Raving …”

Bobby Corsi spoke up. “Rafar!”

Edith looked up at him with wide eyes. “Yes! Yes! That’s the name the Lord’s impressing upon me!”

“Rafar!” Bobby said again. “He’s the big wheel!”

TAL COULD ONLY
back away from the fearsome onslaught of the demon prince, his one good hand still holding his sword up for defense. Rafar kept swinging and slashing, the sparks flying from the blades as they met. Tal’s arm sank lower with each blow.

“The Lord … rebuke you!” Tal found the breath to say again.

EDITH DUSTER WAS
on her feet and ready to shout it to the heavens. “Rafar, you wicked prince of evil, in the name of Jesus we rebuke you!”

RAFAR’S BLADE ZINGED
over Tal’s head. It missed.

“WE BIND YOU!”
shouted the Remnant.

THE BIG YELLOW
eyes winced.

“WE CAST YOU
out!” Andy said.

THERE WAS A
puff of sulfur, and Rafar bent over. Tal leaped to his
feet.

“WE REBUKE YOU,
Rafar!” Edith shouted again.

RAFAR SCREAMED. TAL’S
blade had torn him open.

The big red blade came down with a clang against Tal’s, but that angelic sword was singing with a new resonance. It cut through the air in fiery arcs. With his one good hand, Tal kept swinging, slashing, cutting, pushing Rafar back. The fiery eyes were oozing, the foam was bubbling out the mouth and fizzing down the chest, the yellow breath had turned deep crimson.

Then in one horrible, rage-empowered swipe, the huge red sword came sizzling through the air. Tal went tumbling backward like a tossed rag toy. He fell to the floor stunned, his head spinning, his body drenched in fiery pain. He could not move. His strength was gone.

Where was Rafar? Where was that blade? Tal tried to turn his head. He strained to see. Was that his enemy? Was that Rafar?

Through the vapor and darkness he could see Rafar’s battered frame swaying like a big tree in the wind. The demon did not move, he did not charge. As for the sword, the huge hand still held it, but the blade now hung limply, the tip resting on the floor. The breaths were coming in long, slow wheezes. The nostrils spewed deep red clouds. Those eyes—those hate-filled eyes—were like huge, glowing rubies.

The dripping, foaming jaws trembled open, and the words gargled through the tar and the froth. “But … for … your … praying saints! But for your saints …!”

The big beast swayed forward. He let out one last hissing sigh, and rumbled to the floor in a cloud of red.

And it was quiet.

Tal could not breathe. He could not move. All he could see was red vapor spreading along the floor like thin fog and darkness all around that huge body.