Him? How did we show our love?” Stoneworthy heard weeping in the audience, interspersed with sad ‘Hallelujahs.’
“We nailed His son to a cross. Come get with me!” Updike’s voice was husky; his eyes flowed tears. Silence gripped the shallow valley. “Even then, the dear Lord showed us the depth of His love for instead of shedding our blood He shed His only son’s.”
Moans echoed as Updike took a pitcher from a small wooden table, and poured himself a drink of water. He took another, as he sadly watched the waiting crowd. Head lowered, he continued:
“He gave us His Son, and we gave nothing in return. How He kept His patience I do not know. Humanity perverted every gift that the Lord our God gave us. ‘ Freedom!’ some said. ‘It was our Democratic right.’” Updike looked sternly through the crowd. “Democratic right to disobey our Father in Heaven? Democratic right to embrace the Devil?” Updike leaned into the microphone. “Well the Lord has lost His patience. Come get with me! Judgment Day is here!”
The gathering roared ‘ Amen.’
Updike wrapped his arms over his chest. “Judgment Day is upon us, and the Lord’s Wrath leaps up like a great Lion! His Wrath and Judgment comes upon us now as Apocalypse!” Some yelled in the crowd, others cried for mercy.
“Who shall stand by our God? Come get with Him! We shall not turn from Him again. We shall pick up the righteous sword of our Faith, and stand with the Lion as He roars? We must throw down the idols. The moneylenders have been Kings of the Earth too long. They are Kings set there by the Prince of Darkness. It will stop!”
The gathering was growing anxious. Stoneworthy could hear harsh and bitter words floating toward the stage. Weapons clashed in anticipation. Updike let it build and build, until the minister could feel the anguished fear wash over him.
“Righteousness!” they cried, “Redemption!”
Updike gazed out over this growing power for another minute then raised his hands for silence. It came slowly. He continued:
“Even now, you ask yourself. Why me?” He scanned the army, his head turning slowly from east to west. “Why am I called to aid the Lord while others rest? Well I shall tell you. The Lord chose you to die, and He chose you to rise up, so come get with Him!” Updike’s smile stretched wide.
“Why are you allowed to walk the World of Change when so many departed to join the Lord in Heaven? He needs an army. He needs an army that understands its mission. Your deaths are not in vain! Come get with Him. You were not called from your sleep to fight a war of human folly-you fight for God’s Apocalypse! The Lord wants the world to end, and by God it shall end! The final Change begins so come get with it!” There was a clashing roar, and it took a few minutes for the gathering to quiet. Updike held his arms overhead and nodded for calm.
“I spoke to you of a blossoming. Such an unfolding flower awaits in the seed of our purpose. You are the farmers of the New World who will bury that seed that it should grow. But such a bountiful crop that awaits us can only grow when we turn over the soil of the old. We have this chance to make the world an Eden again. But we must fight for it! We must struggle. We must sacrifice. We must raze the cities, the mansions of the moneylenders and the Idolaters. We must break the churches that worship the Gods of Science and Gold. We must turn over this soil. We must prepare the ground for the Garden! Come get with Me!”
The soldiers roared as Updike bellowed. Stoneworthy had never felt such concentrated feeling-it ran electric over his nerves. He did not know if it was his new dead status, or whether even in death, human emotion had the ability to move and join people. Was not human emotion a conduit for God’s love? He found himself on his feet wildly clapping his numb hands. Oliver Purdue threw an arm around his shoulder and whispered:
“Brother Stoneworthy! We shall till a new garden.” They embraced, Stoneworthy entranced by the tactile nature of the action. He felt alive-vibrant!
“But where do we take this great army!” Stoneworthy asked.
“To meet the others, and on to Apocalypse.” Purdue smiled.
“Others?” The minister’s eyes fixed on Purdue’s.
“Even now, two armies of the dead move toward The City: one from the south with the farthest to travel and another from the southwest.” Joy sparkled in Purdue’s eyes. “We will turn the City’s soil!”
Fear leapt across Stoneworthy’s mind. He knew many good people within the City, but he corrected himself. That had been in life, and he was dead. His life had a meaning, but he had to follow the course that his death had taken-a road to Heaven on Earth! His actions could save them all from walking death. Purdue looked toward Updike.
“I must speak now!” he said, and moved to the stage. The preacher gave him a warm embrace. With Updike’s big hands on his shoulders he began:
“Go now!” Purdue’s voice rang over the speakers. “Go my brothers and sisters and prepare. We have spent years training for this moment, and now the Lord has asked us to move. Go now, and pray. Remove all doubt from your hearts for we take up the banner of the Lord at dawn! All Hail His Apocalypse!”
A roar rang up from the crowd that made Stoneworthy think of lions. The dead produced the sound of life with their passion. So great was the storm of feeling that crashed against him, Stoneworthy was moved to tears. His mind was keen and fresh-newborn in a world that was about to die. Something dark passed by the depths of his consciousness that drew his lips down momentarily. Dismissing his hesitation, Stoneworthy drew Updike’s full cheek close to his and kissed it. He left the stage with the preacher and Purdue arm in arm, wondering at the new garden that awaited them on the morrow.
53 – Vengeful God
The Prime enjoyed the whirling hot tub jets pounding against his kidneys. With the urgency of the job interview over-again-he found himself in a state of total physical relaxation. Mentally, he was close to joyful panic. All of his plans were coming together. The prophecy was true. He would rule the world.
He had started the job interview hours before, when news came of Barnstable’s refusal of the preacher’s ultimatum and Updike’s treasonous speech-a declaration of war.
His Operatives within the dead army had radioed that Updike had called for a jihad. Absolute perfection! Further, Reverend Able Stoneworthy was with the Captain-the Tower Builder dead now. He had bullied Barnstable too much to hear that news earlier. The minister’s whereabouts had been a question for the last two days, and was an annoying reference in Vanguard’s reports. Reappearing dead and in cahoots with traitors gave the Prime authority to assume complete control of Archangel Tower. Absolutely, and inarguably perfect!
Better yet, Operatives monitoring the other arms of the undead army reported they were on the move. South and southwest by many, many miles they presented big, slow targets. Perfect! Perfect! Perfect! The Prime had just got off the phone with General Topp. He had set the time for the first strike. An air defense fighter would radio updated coordinates when required.
His Operatives from all quarters gave troop strength of some three hundred thousand in the south with the bare minimum of weaponry and mechanical support-and the majority of that was of an old and undependable variety. Southwest of that was a force twice that size with little in the way of heavy weaponry or artillery. The northern army and closest was the best equipped but it had not started moving yet.
Updike’s threat was empty-a zombie army up against the most powerful fighting air force and army in the world? The Prime was pleased. He would put on a show that would have his enemies shaking.
And any Divine or Infernal Powers that thought they could take over the world would see how far the Prime was willing to go to see that they didn’t. Updike thought his mission was of Divine origin, but there was still no sign that he had any actual support from that quarter. The Prime had already planned to question his captive about that after the job interview. Updike’s army must be the first move in the bigger game.
That was all he needed to fill him with explosions of happiness. Until today, he had been operating in the dark in a pentagram drawn of blood. His Demon Ally and captive gave him signs and riddles. Though he was pleased to see that his intuition was proving correct, such extravagant risks were difficult for him. Intuition had helped him to climb to the top, but it was a terrifying way to maintain the position.
