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FRANK WAS ON HIS RADIO, getting status updates from any available sources. First responders were answering calls for house and car fires, vicious beatings, robberies, and multiple cases of gang rape. Many citizens were armed and barricaded inside their own homes.
The calls for vandalism, breaking and entering, and simple theft where no one was assaulted or injured were being told to take precautions against additional attacks by moving to shelters where large groups of people congregated. Churches and synagogues were opening, and the faithful were pouring inside, seeking shelter from this most unusual storm.
“Yes we’ll use them,” Frank was saying on the radio. “I know every one of those guys; they’re all either retired law enforcement, prior military, or CLEET certified,” he said, referring to the Oklahoma Council on Law Enforcement Education and Training, and to one of the local chapters of self-defense citizen organizations.
“Send them to the churches and synagogues in teams of four, full gear. Many of them are as well equipped as we are. Tell them to set guards at the front doors, and lock and barricade all the other entrances. And make sure they know; nobody fires a weapon except in direct self-defense of immediate threat to life,” Frank admonished. “Make sure they acknowledge that, even though I know they already understand the drill.”
As the radio squawked with yet another call, he saw his wife’s eyes flare bright white. “Stand by,” he spoke into the radio before turning his full attention to Raquel.
“This is unheard of, but these are unprecedented times,” she said carefully. “My brother Camael, whom your world knows as the Archangel of strength, courage, and war has agreed to accept Jason’s offer. Jason, be certain this is what you want. The effects can be... alarming, at the very least.”
First Jason just nodded, but then he spoke to ensure there was no misunderstanding. “I’m sure, and I’m ready. What do I need to do?”
“Just sit back and relax, and open your heart to Camael,” she replied. “I sense you have a warrior’s spirit, and will suit him well.”
Everyone was expecting something dramatic, and they were all slightly disappointed. Jason closed his eyes and relaxed visibly, twitching once, and then again. His right leg jerked, and his face contorted into a grimace for a moment, but he didn’t cry out. When he opened his eyes, they shone a bright, light bronze.
“Hello, sister,” Camael spoke. It was still Jason’s voice, but there were richer undertones of power in the timber.
“Brother, tell us what transpires,” Raquel asked immediately.
“This is no simple outbreak, nor is it a random testing of our responses. This is an uprising,” he finished harshly. “As most we can tell, Azazel, Harut, Allocen, Mastema, Asmoday, Balberith, and Leviathan are involved and Amom awaits. They’re all being led by Abaddon.”
“Not Amom, too?” Raquel whispered, tears forming in her eyes.
“Yes, sister, I fear it is true,” Camael replied softly.
“But, how is that possible?” she insisted. “Allocen has influence, as does Balberith, and Asmoday’s influence is already most obvious from all the...sexual assaults, but Amom cannot activate his legions, not without the Gates of the Pit being opened, and Maalik stands guard there, with his nineteen.”
“Each of those I’ve just mentioned now walk this planet and influence crowds of weak-minded humans into becoming uncontrolled mobs,” Camael replied. “And all across the planet, the seven gates are being assaulted by these mobs, each led by one of the seven. The fights in this country are going on in Pennsylvania right now, and in a town called Hell’s Gate, TX. It is some 300 miles from here.”
He paused, shaking his head in a very real human expression of bafflement. “As more humans surrender to their more base instincts and answer the call for violence, more are willing to allow possession. At some point, this will no longer be just rioting and mob action; they will succeed in overwhelming at least one of the gates. Should one fall, it will be only a matter of time until they all do so, unless these mobs are stopped now.”
Looking forlornly around their company, he concluded with, “And I fear we are not enough for the likes of these denizens of the darkness.”
“I have so many questions, I don’t know where to begin,” Marrisa started. “But I do know, I’ll do whatever I must to prevent that from happening, including allowing an angel to use my vessel.”
“Jason has asked to speak to you directly, Marrisa,” Camael said.
The bronze glow in his eyes extinguished, and Jason spoke. “Ma’am, you need to know that what we were talking about earlier is true in reverse. The only way for one of the demons to defeat one of the angels is to kill their vessel.”
He paused for a moment to let that register. “Now, I don’t have any family except my parents, and they’d miss me sorely, but they knew that risk was there when I put on this uniform. You have a daughter to think about, and she needs you more than most kids need a parent. I just wanted to make sure you’re aware of that.”
Marrisa bowed her head and seemed to be carefully weighing the information, but when her head came back up she was smiling. “That may be the first time I actually felt like God heard my prayer, because he answered me. Who is Sariel, besides an Archangel?”
Jason’s eye flared bronze, and Raquel’s head snapped into focus on Marrisa. “You have spoken with the Father,” she breathed. “What has He told you what about Sariel?”
“He told me Sariel understands the gravity of our dire situation, and is willing to join in the fight using me as his vessel,” she said. The sharp gasp from Priscilla had Marrisa turning to her daughter immediately. “Sariel is an Archangel, and because of that, I as his vessel will be much harder to kill. In fact,” she smiled convincingly, “I’ll be almost invulnerable. Apparently, Sariel packs a lot of punch.”
“Indeed he does,” replied Raquel. “He is one of the original seven, and is the equal of any Archdemon of the Pit. Many of us feel he is even Lucifer’s equal. He is called the Angel of Eternity and Trembling, and he has primordial powers. Father sends him into battle reluctantly, and it has been over 2,000 years since he last strode the earth.”
“It is good our brother Sariel joins the fray. With his guidance, we may yet succeed,” Camael said with a concerned look.
“What is it, brother?” Raquel asked.
“If Sariel is willing to fight, you know the level of his restorative powers,” he said. “And, as Priscilla’s injuries were man-made, Sariel may in fact be able to restore her condition. He’s also well known for his protective powers.”
“No,” Marrisa shouted. “I will not allow you to put my daughter in harm’s way.”
“Mom, you just said you’d be almost invulnerable, and if they can fix me; how can you not let them?” Priscilla was crying and nearly screaming at the end. “But you can put yourself in harm’s way without considering where that leaves me? How is that right?”
Marrisa sat and stared at Priscilla for several long seconds, and then rushed across the room to drop to her knees beside Priscilla’s chair. Hugging her fiercely, she sobbed, “I’m sorry, baby. I wasn’t thinking of you, I was thinking of me again.” Smiling through her tears, she said, “I don’t like it, but this may be the miracle we’ve been praying for.”
Turning to Camael, Marrisa wiped her face and said, “Will you ask Sariel if he’s willing to do that, and if he thinks he can; heal her, I mean?”
“I shall, and if you’re still willing to be an angel vessel, there are others waiting, in fact anticipating, involvement,” Camael replied.
“Bored to tears after millions of years, huh?” Ham said. He had been sitting quietly throughout the entire exchange, and everyone had basically forgotten he was there. “If there are others who want a host, I’m more than willing, especially if it fixes me,” he concluded.
“Hamilton, I’m so sorry,” Raquel smiled gently. “Your condition is the way God made you; only He can change that. He has a higher plan for you, I believe.”
The look on Ham’s face was heartbreaking. The compounding facts of Priscilla having her injuries healed, Frank being resurrected, Jacob being made right, and even Marrisa getting into the fight was more than he could stand. He spun his chair around and headed into the kitchen and then down the hall.
Marrisa started after him, but Pris stopped her. “Let me, mom,” she pleaded. When Marrisa nodded, Pris wheeled after Ham.
“So, when does Azrael make his appearance?” Marrisa asked, sitting down and getting comfortable.
“How do you know of Azrael?” Raquel asked, dumbfounded.
“Your Father and I had quite the conversation,” Marrisa replied. “He told me of how all which just happened, might, and He said Azrael and I would be a good fit.”