“Help each other, how?” asked Sam.

“You made a promise to me once, I recall. A promise to do my bidding when I asked in exchange for a certain reunion.”

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. He remembered. His mother. Joshua had promised to reunite him with his mother. “What do you want me to do?” Sam said. He had no intention to do whatever his former friend wanted but he’d play along until he learnt more about his mother. This was potentially his chance to find her.

“All in good time.” Joshua stood and moved over to the drinks cabinet. He poured himself some amber fluid from a crystal decanter. “Would you like one?” he asked, gesturing at his glass. Sam shook his head. “Back in Utah, I didn’t drink, obviously,” he continued, walking back behind his desk and settling himself back in his leather chair. “Things have changed. For the better, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sam gave Joshua a ghost of a smile, humoring him. “Why did you do it, Josh? Why did you betray me?”

There — he finally said it. The question had been plaguing him for years. He’d never had the opportunity to ask before but it had been something he’d gone over in his head countless times.

“Why I sided with your brother and your father, you mean?”

Sam nodded. He’d thought the question was obvious.

“I knew you’d ask this eventually. I imagined this conversation in my head, wondering what I might say. I confess that I’m tempted not to tell you, but it’s kinda pointless now. What do you remember about me, back in Jacob’s Ladder?”

“I remember that you played quarterback on the High school football team. You were the nephew of Father Rainey. You were also my friend — were being the key word here.”

Joshua grinned, his fleshy checks glistening unhealthily. “Quite right. What do you remember about my uncle?”

Sam shook his head. “Not much. He was the local priest. Can’t say I liked him that much. He was the one that made me walk through hallowed ground for the first time. I don’t think he approved of what I was. Let’s just say there wasn’t much love lost between us.”

“Sounds familiar,” said Josh.

“What do you mean?” asked Sam, intrigued despite himself.

Josh stood and began pacing behind his desk. “Father Rainey wasn’t a particularly forgiving man. Or a very nice one for that matter. After my parents died, he took me in but I think he resented having to look after me. Made me read the bible every night and beat me when I didn’t. No-one ever knew that. Called me a godless fool because my parents hadn’t believed. Used to tease me and say that my parents were in Hell. Hardly spoke to me other than that. One of the reasons I joined the football team was to get out of the house.”

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Sam.

“I want you to understand,” said Joshua, “understand that you and I are alike.”

“We are nothing alike,” sneered Sam.

“I beg to differ. We both lost our parents. We both were tormented by others because of who we were. I think you and I are kindred spirits.”

“So why betray me?”

“Your brother came to me and explained everything. Suddenly, I knew who I was and knew what I had to do. He said that you belonged in Hell with your family. It made sense to me. You are part demon after all. He said that my parents were there too and if I helped him, I could see them again. In hindsight, he oversold Hell a little but that doesn’t matter now. He was very…persuasive.”

“But you sold out the rest of humanity, too.”

“I would argue that. I think humanity is weak. If the rest of the population had been through what I’ve been through, it would’ve straightened them out. You can get used to Hell after a while. I did and it taught me a great deal. Powers I thought I would never possess. Never again will I have to do the bidding of another human. What’s more, my parents were granted certain concessions. They may still be in Hell, but they certainly aren’t suffering. I made sure of that. “Do you know who I am now?” he asked.

“Joshua,” replied Sam.

Joshua laughed. “Certainly. That was the boy I was. Not the man I am today. I am something altogether different today. Thanks to my time in Hell. Tell me, what do you know about the False Prophet?”

“Of course,” said Sam, understanding starting to dawn on him.

“Well, it’s a bit of a misnomer really. I don’t think ‘false’ is the right word, really. Just ‘Prophet’ sounds about right. That’s what everyone around here calls me, anyway.”

“So, you’re the False Prophet then?” asked Sam.

It wasn’t really a question. He’d kind of suspected that Joshua still had a part to play in all this when they’d encountered each other in Hell. Joshua clearly had not been idle during the years he was trapped there — amassing power, preparing for his return to Earth. The Prophet was a logical choice, a spiritual leader recruited by the Antichrist as his partner in crime. Supposedly able to perform miracles. Well, Sam reflected — it seemed like he’d performed a few already. Being able to spirit Sam away from the Resistance was nothing short of miraculous.

Joshua’s face tightened at the word false. Sam stored this information away for future use. It would not be hard to antagonize his old friend.

“I am the Prophet, yes. Appointed by your own brother as reward for my earlier service. My powers too, have grown with my new status. Enough to fool those idiots in Europe in any case. The rumors are that I can perform miracles — some might call it magic. Watch this!” He gestured with one hand, a circular motion. Suddenly, his drinks glass — half empty — was suddenly full again. Joshua laughed gleefully. “Believe me, that’s the least of what I can do.”

“Very impressive,” sneered Sam. “Still doesn’t tell me why you brought me here.”

Joshua inclined his head. “I want you to do something for me. Something you probably wouldn’t have done in any case. I’m just giving you a little more incentive.”

“What?” demanded Sam impatiently. Joshua seemed to have developed some dramatic notions. Would he ever just get to the point?

“Kill your brother, of course. Properly this time. And then disappear and stay out of my way. That’s the crucial bit — I don’t want you hanging around, interfering and basically making a nuisance of yourself. You’ll find him in the Chrysler building, around the 32nd floor. There’s a platform with eagles instead of gargoyles — I’m surprised he hasn’t changed them. The room he uses as an office is adjacent to that and an airborne assault is the only one that will work. The base of the building is surrounded by hundreds of Horned demons. In exchange, I’ll free your mother from Hell.”

It made sense. With the Antichrist out of the way, Joshua would be free to rule unchallenged. Satan might even give his blessing, probably relishing every moment when his minions turned on each other.

“You realize this won’t change anything though?” said Sam. “Even if I kill my brother and you take his place as the Antichrist, your fate has already been sealed. It has for millenniums. As soon as Christ returns, you and my brother will be banished to the eternal lake of fire. Forever.”

“As will you,” Joshua retorted.

Sam rocked back on his heels. “Where did you hear that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Fates can be changed. We don’t have to resign ourselves to whatever is written in that book. We — you included — can write our own fates. Decide our own futures. Do you really think I’m going to allow anyone to put me in an eternal lake of fire forever? Are you really that stupid?”

Sam was starting to feel distinctly uneasy. What Joshua was saying seemed to echo the sentiments of his father. What were they up to? Sam realized that once again, he was being manipulated. If Joshua and his father wanted him to kill the Antichrist that meant he should do the opposite. To foil their plans, he needed to ensure that his brother lived. It was a quandary. His heart told him his brother had to die but his head was saying otherwise. He was starting to get confused, to lose the purity of his purpose. So many factors were at work here. Who was he meant to believe? Not only that, why was he bothering at all? The future was already written. In the Bible. Why not leave all these plotters and schemers to their fates while he concentrated on protecting the innocent?

But something was troubling him deeply. A niggling thought was asking him whether the future was indeed already written. Could it be changed? Was the Bible right in all respects? If you knew your scripture then why would you calmly accept your fate when you could put measures in place to potentially circumvent it? Joshua knew the Bible very well indeed — how could he not? He had, after all, been brought up by a priest. Perhaps they knew

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