31
‘Stop!’
Everyone turns to see who shouted that command. The tone is almost irresistible.
I keep one eye on Beliel while trying to see what’s going on. Blood drips down into my eye, and I have to blink several times before I see what everyone else sees.
There’s now a gap in the dome letting the light in. A pair of large snowy wings glides through, blocking out the sun.
Raffe’s perfect form comes into view.
He is both the Raffe I know and a terrifying stranger. He looks like a pissed-off demigod. I’ve only glimpsed him once in this perfect angel form.
His wings are magnificent as they sweep the air behind him – white against blue.
The angels all stare at Raffe. They hover, silent and still except for the slow beating of wings. A whisper echoes through the winged crowd: Archangel Raphael.
‘I hear there’s an unsanctioned election going on,’ says Raffe.
‘There’s nothing unsanctioned about it,’ says Uriel. ‘And if you had been here, you’d know that. In fact, you are one of the candidates.’
‘Really? And how am I doing?’
A couple of angels yell out in support of Raffe.
‘You’ve been away too long, Raphael.’ Uriel raises his voice to address the rest of the angels. ‘He’s too out of touch to lead the greatest battle in history. Does he even know that the legendary apocalypse is about to begin?’
‘You mean the one you artificially created out of your lies and parlor tricks?’ Raffe addresses the angels too. ‘He’s been lying to you all. Fabricating monsters and manufacturing events to pressure you into a quick and dirty election.’
‘He’s the one lying,’ says Uriel. ‘I can prove that I was meant to be the chosen archangel.’ He raises his arms to the crowd. ‘God spoke to me.’
The crowd bursts into a low roar as everyone begins talking at once.
‘That’s right,’ says Uriel. ‘I am already the Messenger in His eyes. God spoke to me and told me He has chosen me to lead the great apocalypse. I waited to tell you because I know that it’s shocking. But I have no choice now that Raphael has come back, trying to challenge God’s will.
‘How many signs do we need before you’re convinced that the End of Days is happening without us? How much of it are you willing to miss because we don’t have an elected Messenger to lead you into battle? Do not allow Raphael to keep you from the glory that is rightfully yours!’
The angels closest to Uriel open their mouths wide and begin what I can only call singing. But it’s not a song with words, just a melody. It’s a gorgeous, holy sound that’s so unexpected from these bloodthirsty warriors.
The beautiful sound ripples through parts of the crowd as a dozen heavenly voices join the chorus throughout the dome. Then a group of angels shifts out of the way, letting in a beam of sunlight.
The light hits a spot just beside Uriel. He subtly shifts into it so that he glows. His face splits into a genuine grin. If nothing else, Uriel is certainly a good showman.
Then he lowers his arms and bows humbly. There’s something about the ray of light shining off his head and shoulders, the way he bows, the way he quietly holds himself that implies that he’s communing with God. It makes me hold my breath. Everyone else must feel it too, because there’s a hushed expectancy.
When he lifts his head, he says, ‘God just spoke to me. He says the End of Days begins now.’
He sweeps his arms like a conductor.
A crash hits the cliff at the end of the golf course. I assume it’s a huge wave, but I can’t see it with all the angels blocking my way. Then they all turn to look, and I can see the beach through the spaces between their bodies.
The water is boiling near the shore. Something is rising up out of the sea. At first, I think it’s a cluster of animals, but as the heads clear the water, I see that it’s a single monstrosity. The waves crash around it as if the ocean itself were raging against this unnatural thing.
The beast shakes off the water with a scream, and races toward us.
It’s shockingly fast. In almost no time, it’s close enough for me to get a good look at it.
Laylah has outdone herself on this one. It has seven heads clustered around the shoulders, but one of the heads appears dead. The one that looks dead is the head of a man. The face is split and trickling blood, as though he was recently killed with an ax.
The rest of the heads are alive with each one looking like a mix of human and animal – a leopard, an eel, a hyena, a lion, a giant fly, and a dead-eyed shark. The torso of the beast looks vaguely bearlike.
‘And a beast shall rise up out of the sea,’ says Uriel in a prophetic tone. ‘And upon his heads is the name of blasphemy. Let us count the number of the beast, for it is the number of man. And his number is six hundred threescore and six.’
Each of the monster’s heads has numbers tattooed in a puckering scar on its forehead.
666.