Jez Boyack leant on a gate in Nevada and gazed across one of his fields. The cloudless sky was a brilliant blue, and the heat was building after a cold morning. He puzzled over a dark figure in the distance which seemed to hover over the Winter Wheat. Strange, he thought, he couldn't remember the last time his hired hands put scarecrows in the fields. They used propane cannons nowadays.
He pulled out his cell-phone and was about to press a quick-call button when the figure seemed to move. He blinked his eyes. The scarecrow was again stationary, but there was another one five metres to the left of the original.
“Whoa!” he shouted as he pushed himself away from the gate.
Suddenly another black figure appeared five metres to the right of the original. Jez dropped his phone and backed off toward his pickup as dark figures popped up all over the field. He opened the driver's door and jumped in, then slamming the door shut he searched for the keys. The realization hit him: the keys must have fallen out of his pocket when he pulled out his phone.
A sharp rap on the driver's window made him glance round. A gaunt face stared at him through the glass. “Are you looking for these?” asked the demon in a rasping voice while dangling the keys by the side of its head.
Jez looked around, the dark figures surrounded the vehicle. “Jesus!” he shouted as the pick-up rocked. After a moment the truck rose and then moved through the flattened gate and across the field. He tried to open his door, but it was unmovable even without the lock. He tried the passenger door, but found the same result.
The farmer pulled out his shotgun from under the passenger's seat and held the butt to the window. He then pulled the gun back, forced the butt through the glass and then tried to climb out of the broken window.
“Oh no you don't,” said a demon voice as the shotgun swivelled around and knocked him out. He slumped back on the seat.
At length, the procession entered a field where alfalfa bails were left to dry. The bails rolled toward the centre of the field and climbed on top of each other forming a huge pyramid. Demons carrying the pickup stopped as the alfalfa ignited. The whole structure soon turned into an inferno.
Jez came too as the vehicle flew into the heart of the fire and disappeared. After a few moments there was an explosion, and a figure appeared behind the watching demons.
“Where do I sign-up?” growled the undead Jez Boyack.
A deep drone emanating from underground interrupted a desert morning. Suddenly a great sinkhole formed in the Mojave between Los Angeles and Las Vegas.
At first, smoke appeared from the dark depths, then came whirring as Apache attack helicopters rose from an underground base exposed by the pit. Like giant flying scorpions they headed toward Los Angeles.
The helicopters launched a viscous attack on the black hordes spreading west.
61
Chapter Thirty-Six Matthew and David pulled into Lorton for a break after dealing with Grant Meddings.
Matthew threw a few dollars into an old man’s begging cap as he entered a café.
“Thank you, Matthew,” said the man, whose eyes glittered red.
Inside the café, news filled the television in the background with the advance of the Dark Army and what the President would do about it.
Matthew grabbed David, and said: “Hey David, that beggar outside knew my name!”
David walked out of the door and looked up and down the street.
“No-one there,” he said, when he returned.
“One more thing: he had red eyes!”
They took a table by the window and stared at the passing traffic. The coffee house was filled with gossiping housewives and workmen on their morning break.
A figure approached their table. “Can I buy you gentlemen a coffee?”
“Yes. Please sit-down Mr Scrimgeour,” said David without looking up.
“The man from the Inner Sanctum.” Matthew said gazing at the man as he sat at their table.
“As you will know, and I admit you predicted, we have a big problem on our hands,” said Scrimgeour after the waitress left with their order.
“You’re the New World Order sort it out!” Matthew said.
Scrimgeour pushed his head in toward the two men, and said: “Listen, as I’ve said before, I’m not one of these Illuminati, I’m an American Christian.”
“Why are you involved with them then?” Matthew asked.
“As head of the CIA there are certain things you’ve got to do.”
“Like controlling the parts of the world that are oil rich,” said Matthew.
“What is it you want from us Mr Scrimgeour?” David asked.
“Well, the problem is the Dark Army, spreading over the country, is of mainly Americans, and this guy Baumann, who seems to control the whole thing, is recruiting more as it moves. A new civil war is at hand–I fear!”
“The Book of Revelation is being played out here–in America,” said David as the waitress approached with three mugs on a tray.
“Yes,” said Scrimgeour.
“You realize that this Baumann is the Antichrist,” said David staring into Scrimgeour’s eyes.
“Yes, he’s been doing some supernatural things.”
“And that’s just the beginning!” David said before sipping from his mug.
“If this plays out as told in the Bible–okay, but if not, we could be in trouble.”
“Oh, you of little faith,” said Matthew with a grin.
“So, you want us to take out this Baumann?” David asked, looking disapprovingly at Matthew.
“Well, you’re the only person I know that has the powers to do it. I could send in a black ops team, but I would never see them again.”
“Okay, but you understand that I probably must deal with Grondin, that’s Satan, as well. The only advantage being: Baumann doesn’t, as far as I know, know who I am.”
“I’ll inform the President we may put a lid on this,” said Scrimgeour.
“Now wait a minute, this is a war against Satan; we might lose.”
“Come on now Mr de Longford with you two and the Lamb on our side I reckon we stand a better than evens chance of winning!”
“Okay, all that rests on whether God will let me on your side and whether Grondin opens, or leaves sealed up, the portal to the Dark Realm.”
“Talking of the Lamb have either of you heard anything of his whereabouts?”
“I would ask you the same thing,” said David.
Scrimgeour sipped his coffee, then replaced the mug on the table. “I'm afraid in the limited time I've had, I've drawn a blank.
62
David grimaced and puffed. “This is the main reason I wanted to talk with you. I have it on good authority that a certain black ops group associated with your agency are holding him. No doubt they will be in league with our friend Thomson.
“I see, I'll have to investigate this.”
“May I suggest a soft approach on this may be better,” said David looking from Scrimgeour to Matthew. “Anything we can do to help; you have but to ask.”
“I agree with you, and thanks for the offer, but I would rather you concentrated on this Baumann.”
“It will be tough, but if I succeed in reducing his power level, the problem will be containing him. He will need to be isolated from a possible demonic power load.”
“You mean tainted souls.”
“Indeed.”
“Okay gentlemen,” said Scrimgeour finishing his coffee and rising, “till we meet again.”