~/*\~ Eleanor ~/*\~
Benedict and Christopher were Elders in Eleanor's Congregation. As the scene of the world changed faster than anyone anticipated, and it was clear they were never going back to normal, the Elders started making visits to encourage their people.
"I wish I could offer you some coffee." Eleanor welcomed them both. "But we've run out, and the streets are just getting too dangerous to risk a trip to the store."
"Quite alright." Benedict assured her. "We're hearing reports of violence all over the place too. If you're running short of anything urgent, we can try to send some supplies your way. Everyone's been really generous about sharing what they have."
"We've got some stocks of our own in." Eleanor promised with a wry smile. "The one thing I really want, I'm afraid you can't deliver just now."
Christopher chuckled. "Have you heard from Del?"
"Not much. A text message here and there." Eleanor admitted. "The phone lines won't stay open for more than a few minutes. At least not in this part of town." She shivered. "The lockdowns happened faster than any of us thought. I'm terrified he won't make it back, before… Well, before. We don't know how long we have, or how long it'll last once it starts."
"We've never known." Benedict reminded her.
"How's Jacen taking it?" Christopher asked.
"I don't think he understands any of this yet. Jacen's… aware of how nervous I am, but he thinks it's because his father is gone." Eleanor admitted. "We tried to prepare him. But he's a kid, and I don't know how ready I am, let alone him."
"And you, Eleanor?" Benedict said warmly. "How are you preparing yourself?"
She let out a breath. "I find I'm rereading my notebooks from my first studies with Martine. I was hooked on the idea of 'foretelling the future'. Martine walked me through every prophecy in the Bible, from Genesis to Revelation. It's… exhilarating and terrifying, seeing them come true in real time."
"I would say there's no student for a hundred miles who's more well-versed in 'the future' than you." Benedict agreed.
Eleanor had a soft smile. "I remember asking Martine how we knew it was all still to happen, and not prophecy about ancient times. She showed me Daniel 12:1."
Benedict and Christopher took that as their cue and looked it up. "During that time Michael will stand up, the great prince who is standing in behalf of your people. And there will occur a time of distress such as has not occurred since there came to be a nation until that time. And during that time your people will escape, everyone who is found written down in the book."
Christopher smiled. "You know, there are some examples in the Bible where God deliberately went out of the way to make the odds worse for his followers, purely so that the victories He gave them were more miraculous. If ever there was going to be just such a deliverance in our time, it would be this."
"I know." Eleanor agreed. "But the thing about miracles is that they are impossible. They defy reality, by definition. Even knowing the truth, nobody expects to see reality stop working."
"If I can offer one word of advice, Eleanor?" Benedict offered. "Don't try to keep it out. Not this time. Notice everything. Pay attention to everything. Commit this whole period to memory, because we'll be telling the story for a thousand years."
"Is it bad if I say that's hard to picture?" Eleanor admitted. "I mean, I know I haven't been a Witness as long as others, and some have been waiting their whole lives, but…"
"It's hard to picture what's outside your experience." Benedict admitted. "I imagine when the Egyptian Slaves were suddenly set free, they didn't know how to handle it either."
"May we react better than them." Eleanor said grimly.
Christopher chuckled. "We've never known that either, really. We've had warnings, predictions; but the actual facts of what comes next are rare. We don't know how long it will last. But we know it will end, and we know who wins, and what comes after. Don't sweat the details."
"We also don't know for sure who'll be with us when this ends." Eleanor admitted. "I went by the Shelter last month. All those… lost souls, who never really had a chance. Part of what made me love God was the idea that Jesus cared more about those people than the world ever did… How many of them get swept away? Does anyone get the benefit of the doubt? They didn't with Noah's Ark, or the Tenth Plague..."
"That is an excellent question." Benedict agreed. "And the short answer is: The Bible doesn't say. This is the same Christ who chose an Inquisitor as his thirteenth apostle. How he sees us, and what he looks for before we get the truth is an open question. What we do know is that what comes next is going to be a time of testing, for us, and for the whole world."
Christopher practically raised his hand like it was in school. "Another upside. All the brothers who doubt themselves? Another few weeks, they'll have their answer, in a most decisive way."
"Calm seas never made good sailors?" Eleanor guessed with a smile.
"Something like that." Benedict laughed. "Y'know, Jehovah gives his people advance warning of His actions, but less often about their rescue. Daniel didn't know the lions would keep their mouths shut. Moses didn't know the Red Sea would stand up. The three Hebrews didn't know the fire wouldn't touch them. They all trusted Him anyway." He smiled like everything was right with the world. "And God is working to a very different ending right now than anything we've seen before. Who knows what the 'fiery furnace' will be for us?"
~/*\~ Nomi ~/*\~
"The fire failed! The fire didn't work!" Nomi could just make out the sound of someone screaming in panic, the words nearly drowned out by the driving rain.
Of course the fire didn't work. Nomi thought distantly, as if to answer them. The Ark is soaking wet right now. So is everything else. How did you even get a torch lit?
Despite herself, she smirked at the irony. Their town had been burned to the ground, its fatal weakness exposed by flame, and now all fire was useless to them.
The rain was relentless. It was hard not to think of it as outright malevolent. The sky was falling on them every second, and it was brutally heavy, surprisingly cold. The whole world was soaked through. The town was starting to sink completely. The stink of cold, clutching mud was everywhere. The bonfires were out, the torches dark. The rain had been punishing them into the mire for ten days and nights without pause; and the town had been dark the whole time. No moonlight could get through those clouds. The first night had been terrifying, with new sounds, new threats. Most of them had dug in, fortified; waiting for the rain to stop, or the City of Enoch to attack.
But with the grey dawn, the attack hadn't come, and the rain hadn't stopped. At first, the weather was a novelty. Nobody had seen anything like it before. But then the river had broken its banks, and everywhere, the water was spreading. Little pools had become large ones, and were fast growing wider and deeper.
Once the stores broke open, completely waterlogged, the grain already rotting; everyone had gone berserk. The rain was not going to stop. Something they all knew in their hearts, but didn't know how to respond to.
The Chieftain had vanished; leaving no trace. His sons had squabbled over who deserved authority with Kainan dead, and half of them had taken their own families and formed camps in the area around town, waiting for one of them to snap and attack the others. Nomi had no idea if any of them were alive; and didn't care.
The Chieftain's Lodge was a filthy paste of ash and slush, unrecognizable. The Hunting Lodge was the only building left that wasn't flooded completely. Even Nuria's tent had a thick layer of water covering the floor.
Nomi sat at her mother's firepit, now filled with water; staring into the space like it could still provide warmth. Her skin was wet. She'd been hiding from the Rain for days, but the air was so thick with it that everything was soaked, indoors or not. Nomi could barely remember what it was to feel dry.
Nomi's mother came in, shaking off the water determinedly. "They're getting closer. It's starting to come together."
Nomi didn't answer, not even looking at her.
"I'm serious!" Nuria insisted. "You better get out there! When we figure out how to keep it together, there won't be room for everyone. With Kainan and the Chieftain gone, you're the best bet for leadership-"
"Don't you ever stop?" Nomi drawled, exhausted. We're going to drown. Like father. Like Anah. I never went back to the River that claimed them, and now it's coming to me.
"People can do a lot when they're motivated. And it's getting easier to find out if something will float or not." Nuria said with grim understatement. "I know, it's unlikely we'll learn how to make an Ark in the next few days, but we don't need anything that big."
"I could be on the Ark right now." Nomi said numbly. "I liked him, mother. I liked Shem. I never felt a moment's fear around him. Something I can't say about anyone else, including you and Kainan. I could have gone with him."
"Daughter, I would never have let you." Nuria said, with no emotion at all. "I made the mistake of marrying for love. It very nearly got us all killed with your father."
"And marrying for securities has certainly saved us both." Nomi drawled. Something was changing in her. The numb surrender was giving way to a dark anger that she'd been pushing down hard for as long as she could remember. Nomi was almost impressed. It was the first thing she'd really felt since seeing the Ark doors close.
"You thought it was a good move once. I had to practically fling you at Kainan, but you finally had the sense to see it was worth it. At least, you did then."
"I married him because you wanted me to have everything you didn't have!" Nomi snapped at her. "As long as I gave it all to you in turn."
"You married him because after Anah, you wanted to feel protected!" Her mother scorned back.
"Yes." Nomi bit back. "And months later, it occurred to me that Kainan might have planned it that way." Her voice coiled angrily. "Except Kainan didn't kill Anah. It was you! You wanted me to accept Kainan, and you knew my best friend was warning me against it. Anah knew he'd never stop with the other women, so you killed her to change my mind."
"Finally worked that out, did you?!" Nuria spat at her daughter. "What did you think would happen? The only thing you had going for you was your beauty, and the fact that you were too shy to use it. Did you think a Godson would chase you forever? Follow you around like a baby chick and tell you how wonderful you were all day?"
"I wanted someone who actually cared about me. God knows I never got a moment of that from you." Nomi couldn't stop the words. The rain had brought a lifetime of resentment bubbling to the surface as everything the human race had done was exposed as a complete waste of time. "Even Shari was loved more by her family in exile than I ever was, grovelling to you every minute, begging for approval!"
"Shari was a child! And her father wasn't much better, thinking he was more moral and more pure than everyone else alive." Nuria scorned. "You know, I was there when he made his case for changing the 'dominion' philosophy. He told the strongest, most powerful people in the world that they had to care more about the weak than they did about themselves. A five year old could have seen that was a suicidal idea. All the 'faith' in the world didn't match against a short stone edge to the throat."
"And my father agreed with his 'foolishness'." Nomi snarled. "Tell me, did The Chieftain get him, or was that you too?"
"I begged him to be smart about it before he got us all killed. But he was so sure he was in the right, as though The Maker Himself would come down and save him." Nuria hissed like a snake. "You think you'd have had a chance of any kind of life, if you'd come from a family of disgraced exiles, like Shari?"
"Shari is in the Ark right now, safe from all of this!" Nomi nearly screamed. "She was never in a cage in the city of Enoch, or trampled under the stampede during the counter-attack. Or passed around for fun by the Godsons, or any of the other hundred things that your power games put us through!"
"My power games? Exactly who was it that fed Tovina to the eastern bandits?" Nuria spat at her. "Don't pretend you're a helpless innocent bystander anymore."
"Well I guess I'm more like you than I thought!" Nomi raged. "Maybe that's why everyone still alive hates me as much as I hate you!"
Hard silence. Nuria stood up slowly, turned to face Nomi… and then hauled off and slapped her hard across the face. Nomi let out a bark of disbelief. Her mother had been cruel, distant… but never physically violent.
Nomi was almost as stunned by that, as the rain. Without thinking much about it, Nomi stood up, looked her mother in the eye, as though dissecting the slap… and struck her back as hard as she could.
Nuria staggered back from the blow, more amazed that her daughter actually had the nerve than by the actual force of the hit. "Get. Out."
Nomi was already gone. The driving rain was like a physical hand from the sky, trying to push her into the ground, but it was infinitely preferable to spending more time with her mother. The ground was slick and slippery, in a way that even the heaviest morning dew never achieved with the grass. Nomi could feel the mud seeping into her sandals, covering her clothes. She wanted a bath, but she knew she'd never get one again.
The animals had scattered, panicked by the rainfall. A few people were trying to round them up. From the Hunter's Lodge, the sounds of drunken revelry were audible, even over the rain. It was the only building solid enough to keep a fire lit within; so those that had given up on trying were gathered there.
Everyone not at the party was either trying to board or destroy the Ark, in the hope that the rain would stop if there was no escaping the Flood… Or frantically breaking down the defensive walls they'd built, trying to slap together anything that would float.
Nomi had no place with either group, staggering through the slick, trying to stay upright against the relentless, vicious torrent. She heard wet hoofbeats, and one of the scouts came charging up to her, sliding off his exhausted horse. "Enoch has fallen!" He shouted to her, looking half-drowned already. "The stone walls held, and filled up the whole city with water! It washed out everything inside their walls. Their leaders have vanished! Nobody knows where they are."
"Our Chieftain is gone too. We don't know where." Nomi told him. Everyone who sired a Godson has abandoned us.
"They're coming here!" He said quickly. "It's not another attack! They tried that a week ago, and the washed out river cut them off. But the City of Enoch is emptied." The Scout told her frantically. "They know about the Ark, and they're on their way here!
And Nomi felt a crazed laugh gathering in her throat, sanity fraying a little further. "They think we knew this was coming, since the Ark is closest to us. They think we must be prepared for the Flood, so they're coming to take it from us." She waved over to the people who were frantically lashing logs together, trying to make a vessel. "That mess over there will look like salvation to them soon."
As if to answer her, the raft they were lashing came apart suddenly, the ropes snapping. There was the faint sound of terrified screaming as the frantic workers tried to put the useless bits together again.
"What do we do, my lady?! They'll arrive in a few hours." The Scout insisted in a panic, trying to find some direction to go.
"Let them come." Nomi said, exhausted by the whole thing. "It's over."
With nowhere else to go, Nomi headed towards the Lodge, looking for a drink. With luck, I can drink myself unconscious, before the floodwaters get high enough to-
She felt eyes on her and looked over to the side of the Hunter's Lodge. Natu was there. He had a cup in one hand, and a large knife in the other. It was clear he was still lucid enough to recognize her. He knows what I did to his children while we were in those cages...
Feeling a chill that was a lot colder than darker than the rain, Nomi started to back away from the Lodge. Natu came out into the rain slowly, matching her movements. The look on his face said that he knew there were no consequences for anything anymore.
Nomi turned to run, slipping and sliding in the mud. She could hear his stride, made a little less sure by the drink. But he was coming after her, with murder in mind.
Nomi ran to her mother's home. Nuria was standing in the doorway, watching her come, with her arms folded, and her face stone. No help there. Nomi tried to reach the Scout who had come in, looking for her leadership. He was currently fighting for his life against three or four panicked people, all of them fighting to get onto his horse, as if there was somewhere to flee. The horse was going crazy with fear, kicking out at all of them. No help there. Nomi ran to the other women, who watched her come, making no move to help. Each one was carrying a knife, or blunt object of their own; waiting to see if Natu would catch her before she got to them. No help there.
No help anywhere! Not from anyone! Nomi thought in terror. God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything! I want to take it back! I want to-
She slipped in the mud, saw the blade for an instant-
~/*\~
The Ark was deathly quiet. Nobody felt much like speaking. There were groans from the wood as the water rose, the weight of it pushing against the lumber on the lowest level, squeezing the construction into itself slightly.
Shem let out a shuddering breath. "My father checked our work constantly, looking for the tiniest flaw. It annoyed me for a while, but I'm glad he did it now. Even the tiniest fault in our effort would let the Ark spring a leak."
They could hear people screaming, clawing at the Ark, but the voices went quiet as the waters rose, forcing them to seek higher ground. The Ark wasn't exactly sheer, but for whatever reason, nobody could climb it; the unnatural rain driving them off the sides.
Shari let out a whimper, squeezing her eyes shut. Shem was right there with her, holding her close. "More than half a century." He whispered to her. "You were the only one that listened, wife."
"There were people out there that I knew. They weren't all ravenous monsters, were they?" Shari whispered. "Most of them didn't exactly try to do good in the world, but that's not the same as deserving to drown."
"I asked my father that question once. Abel was the best of his family, kindest of his generation; and he was the first person to be slain." Shem reasoned. "The world doesn't just reject goodness. It devours it. This isn't to punish people, it's to save creation."
"Abel was a better soul than I." Shari said softly. "Why did the flood not come then? Why not with Enoch, who proclaimed for Jehovah? For that matter, why not in Eden directly?"
"My mother says it must be something to do with The Great Promise." Shem offered. "Every generation wonders if it's going to come, but if the world needs to start again, then it must still be in the future. Jehovah's purpose cannot be undone by the world, and we know of two promises. We're living in one right now. The other hasn't happened yet. So it must still come."
"You think the Flood happened now, because the world was so bad that The Great Promise was in jeopardy?"
Shem was about to answer, when there was a sudden lurch that made Shari cry out in panic, and suddenly the floor was moving under them. "What's happening?"
"We're floating!" Someone in the Ark yelled. "It floats! Praise Jah, it's working!"
~/*\~
Days passed. The floodwaters had risen over the mountaintops, and the world was silent, except for the rain, and the waves.
Nobody was left to see the small figure of a Boy, sitting on a piece of driftwood, unconcerned with the weather. The driving rain made no impact on him, it didn't even seem to wet his tunic. He unslung his instrument from his shoulder and began playing a simple, haunting melody.
The Boy considered the floodplain, and the depths beneath it.
The water canopy that had protectively surrounded the earth for generations was suddenly flooding down to the surface. Enough to drown the planet completely. The Earth's surface crust was suddenly becoming elastic under the weight.
The oceans would spread out to cover two thirds of the planet, even with the abyssal canyons being carved beneath the surface. The displaced earth would collide along the opposite lines as the Earth's crust was literally pushed apart in some places, driving mountains up higher where the other sides collided.
The land masses of the world, so much easier for man to spread out and become many, would be more treacherous. The trillions of tonnes of vapor being removed from the water canopy would surely let more of the solar radiation come pouring in. The climate would be devastated in regions that suddenly faced frigid wind and cold without that greenhouse effect. The uniform warmth of the world, so natural for the creation of lush living spaces, would suddenly run a whole spectrum from arid deserts to frigid tundras. The water, impossible to compress or wear aside, would change the whole face of the world, forming glaciers and pack ice along the poles. Something that hadn't been possible before. Even the temperate zones would swing from warmth to cold on a yearly cycle.
The animals that once had run of the world would have to find their own habitats. The increased radiation would affect everything, from lifespan, to the way crops grew; to formation of elements and divergence of animals into new breeds. The organic material of plants and animals, all swept into basins by the torrents, would be crushed; pulverized into fossil matter by the immense pressure.
The Earth was changing more in these few months than in all the years since Eden combined.
(Author's Note: The preceding is largely paraphrased from several articles on the subject. First, the 'Aid To Bible Understanding', published in 1971 by Jehovah's Witnesses, and the Insight Book, on the topic of 'Deluge'. Secondly, the 7/15/1968 Watchtower, from an article called 'Was There an Earthwide Flood?'. Also, the 12/8/1970 Awake! article, 'Uncovering Coal from the Prairie Landscape'.)
Continuing to play, The Boy spoke quietly, almost inaudibly, even if he wasn't alone. "Father Jehovah," He said softly. "Your power is mighty, and I praise You for willingly going so far from Your original design of the Earth; and all for the sake of Your Promises. For all the things that are changing today, Your Purpose remains everlasting. The Earth will be remade completely from what You originally nurtured it to be, and yet I have no doubt it will still be beautiful and wonderfully made. The Earth will begin a new cycle of life, which will surely never be brought to ruin. A new kind of life is not an end to beauty and variety. There will surely be awe inspiring wonder in a desert or a tundra."
The Boy strummed at his instrument for a few more moments, as the humans in their Ark kept praying and singing out in praise for their deliverance.
"Thank you, Sovereign One, that I am witness to the wonders You have performed today. Even the humans do not grasp just how much You sacrificed, how much You rewrote the dream of Eden, to bring this deliverance about. They may not know for thousands of years." The Boy continued to pray. "Something terrible has ended here, and though this day belongs entirely to You, I fear something else has just begun. Something bigger, maybe even worse than before..."
"You have no idea." Said a voice full of barely controlled anger. The Boy didn't turn, as the Chieftain came walking across the swells, slumping down next to him. Neither of them cared about the weather, or the waves. "I can't go back."
"What did you think was going to happen?" The Boy asked, not looking at him.
"I never thought it would go this far. I never thought He'd do it. There were just so many… changes that would follow." The Chieftain sighed, looking after the Ark. "The whole world. He washed out the whole planet. For what? For them? They're so… tiny."
"The birds are smaller still, and live even shorter lives." The Boy commented. "But they were kept safe in the Ark too. I tried to tell you: Love is not conditional on value."
"Eight people." The Chieftain scoffed. "All this destruction, to save eight people."
"To save the Plan. Those eight people were the only ones who chose to listen and be saved. If you wanted more of them to live, you were uniquely suited to help, living among them." The Boy pointed out.
"He thinks I'm wrong." The Chief scowled. "He doesn't see it yet, as enamored with them as any father is with their most wayward children. He thinks they're still salvageable, and doesn't see that they don't want to be fixed, nor do they deserve it."
"I've been trying to tell you the same thing about yourself." The Boy sighed. "What does it say, that one of those 'nothing' humans and his family had more trust in Jehovah God than you did, after billions of years?"
The Chieftain set his jaw. "He still owed us more than drowning our sons." The vengeful spirit insisted. "It doesn't seem callous to you?! He even had an Ark built, but there was just no room for our own. Why not our children? Stronger, faster; as close to us as flesh and blood can be." He spat in anger. "He's wrong about humans. They deserve to be treated as they treat each other; just like the animals, just like us. And you should know, I'm not the only one that feels that way." The Chieftain stood up, on the water. "I don't blame Him for wanting to see something better than what's there. Compassion is His way. And I don't blame you for standing with Him, even after this. But it's only a matter of time before the… the stench of the human race makes God see what we already know. Another thousand years, you'll wish He'd sunk the Ark too."
"I thought the whole point was that you were a part of their world, and He was too removed." The Boy countered.
"That was my point." The Chieftain pulled back his lip in a cruel snarl. "Then your God murdered my sons. No. He owes me an apology, not the other way around."
(Author's Note: As a rule, it is inadvisable to give too much attention to demons. For obvious reasons, nobody would want to make them a sympathetic character in any way. This is the only exception in any of my writings, and will likely be as far as I take it. Given that the story of Noah's Ark is also the 'origin story' for demonic forces, I felt like I had to make some comment; if only because I've had angelic characters in my other Bible-based writings for some time.)
The Boy sighed, and spoke, low and hard. "I do believe this is the end of our friendship. So let me say this one thing: The Serpent Apostate was able to undo the world in a short time. Now you know how far God will go to stop the Traitor's schemes. You will not succeed."
"You don't know what the future holds." The Chieftain spat. "If He'll do this much in return, then we'll have to change strategy. But we're as patient as you are. If it takes us another ten thousand years, we'll make our point. By the time we're done, humans will hate God more than we do. All of them." He turned to go. "It'll be a long game."
"Not so long, once it's over." The Boy watched after his fallen friend. The raindrops made no impact on his face, but the tears were still harder to see, if there had been anyone left alive to look.
Floating across the horizon was a large wooden Ark, and a small chorus of voices raised in songs of praise to Jehovah, calling out their gratitude for their rescue. The Boy could hear them, but they couldn't hear the song he played along with them, or the others like him taking up the chorus.
~/*\~
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