“Either that, or they’re all malfunctioning,” Bruce said. “Although that’s unlikely.”
“A force field, like on Star Wars or Star Trek? I thought those shows were fiction.” Sarge spoke in a nervous, unsure tone. “I’m having concerns about our not-so-friendly aliens. They’ll start retaliating soon.”
It wasn’t long before the retaliation came. As the cube got closer to Earth, objects resembling large hailstones shot out from an invisible dock in fiery cloudbursts. They hovered like drones in what appeared to be strategic places above the vast armies positioned in the Valley of Jezreel. A cloud of smoke spurt from each object and a mist floated down, spreading on the enemy below, covering the valley.
Land-based rockets were being fired at the objects but were destroyed before reaching their targets.
Wiley’s chest tingled and his pulse raced. He stood up. His legs felt weak, so he sat down again. Something dreadful was coming. The mood of the room was beyond heavy.
Tufts of the ghost-grey mist coalesced and covered the armies. The TV screen showed thousands of soldiers and their weaponry as silhouettes in the mist. Soon the mist reached ground level.
“No. That can’t be happening.” Sarge was on his feet, yelling. “No. that can’t be happening.” He raised his hand to his mouth.
“It … it is happening.” Wiley felt the blood drain from his face.
Soldiers came running out from pockets of the mist, their flesh rotting on their bodies. They’d stop, standing, then crumble to the ground, their eyes empty holes. Some escaped the effects of the mist but attacked one another.
Bruce coughed. “This isn’t real. It can’t be. It must be a Hollywood stunt.” He pressed the off button on the remote.
The room was silent. A dark, black screen looked back at them. A black hole, drawing them in.
“How could they possible record that?” Bruce said. “Surely the news recording equipment would be affected by what was going on. And surely they could think of their audience and be a little more sensitive.”
“You would think so.” Wiley agreed. “Interestingly, media outlets don’t seem to have lost many staff.”
“They’re aliens, Wiley. Anyway, the images are most probably satellite based.” Sarge cleared his throat. “Satellites have an amazing capacity to zoom these days.” Sarge blathered on, as if he wanted to talk about anything but what he just witnessed. “But then how can they still be working? Adventus must have some effect on gravity. Maybe it doesn’t really occupy space. Maybe it’s not really there.”
His ramblings a form of therapy. Anything to hide his true emotions, true reactions to what they’d just witnessed. Wiley was surprised by his own alertness. Maybe that was his form of therapy.
The TV came back on. Bruce looked at his remote. “It does this sometimes. I’m not sure why. Maybe a firmware issue.” He looked at the screen as he went to press the off button. On the right of the screen, a dark cloud appeared. The cloud soon took shape. Birds, hundreds and thousands of birds, were landing and feasting on the bodies filling the valley. Segments of artificial lighting shut down sending pockets of the valley into complete darkness—hiding the grotesque scenes before them.
Wiley didn’t want to believe what he was seeing. How could he escape from this dream, this nightmare? He looked at the others. They stood transfixed, looking at the now blank screen. He didn’t know if it was blank because Bruce pressed the off button, or if they’d lost transmission, and he didn’t care. He thought he heard soft screams in the air, and he hoped that it was just seagulls.
“I think we’ve had the wrong impression of God. I don’t think Jesus is the softly-softly type we’d assumed.” Wiley was rambling. Fear could do this. “My mind is showing me the picture of Jesus displayed in so many houses. The handsome, soft man looking peacefully upward. Why is he doing this?”
“I hate that picture,” Bruce said. “So fluffy. So marshmallowy.”
“But now …?” Sarge asked.
Wiley looked at them. They were both weary and confused, as he was. Strange thoughts formed in his head. What had taken place in the valley had been foretold. A memory surfaced from deep in his memory banks. And now words were forming, taking shape, words that needed to be spoken.
“But now … he is a Mighty Warrior, and we should be scared. Very scared.”
48 - Outside the city
Wiley stood on the balcony, looking out at the ocean. Bruce and Sarge stood beside him, each in their own world. They needed a respite from the scene they’d just witnessed on the big screen. Wiley walked over and leaned on the rail. What did it all mean? Negative thoughts overwhelmed him.
Sarge looked to the sky. “Not sure if they’re up there sitting on fluffy clouds playing harps after what we just witnessed.”
“I just want to know what’s going on—are we dealing with aliens or God?” Bruce pulled on the gold chain around his neck.
“Does it matter?” the Sarge asked.
Bruce turned to the Sarge, a false smile on his lips. “Maybe not. The end result is the same.”
“And what’s that?” Sarge headed towards the sofa on the deck.
“We will also be obliterated,” Bruce said.
Sarge took a seat on the sofa. Wiley was content to remain standing. “I don’t think we’ll be obliterated.”
“And why’s that?” Bruce asked.
“Once the dust settles and Adventus is left alone, I think we’ll exist side by side. The new and the old. I think we know who the superior power is, and we would be wise to leave it alone.” Wiley hoped they didn’t sense his uncertainty.
“I agree,” Sarge said. “We’re lucky we live where we live. We’re a long way from the Middle East.”
Wiley looked down at the shrubbery, where the pistol had fallen, but couldn’t see it. He checked the path near the shrubbery and followed it towards the back gate. As his eyes swept past the timber screen housing the swimming pool pump, he was sure he saw the outline of a person concealing themselves. That must be where the pistol was.
“Yes, we are.” Wiley lifted his finger to his lips and nodded towards the house.
They gave him a puzzled look but followed him inside.
Wiley shut the door after they entered. “There’s someone out there, and I think they’ve found Bruce’s pistol.
Bruce nodded and headed off to another room.
“Did you see someone, Wiley?” Sarge asked.
“Hiding behind a timber screen. But I couldn’t see the pistol we kicked over the edge, so I’ve sort of put two and two together.”
Bruce returned with a tablet device in his hand. “I’ve got CCTV cameras everywhere.” He raised his eyebrows and gave a shrug as if to indicate he didn’t understand why he needed so much security either. He swiped across the device and paused. He looked up at them both and laughed.
Wiley and the Sarge looked at each other.
“Well, I don’t think it’s Christians who have gone.” He used his thumb to point towards the backyard. “That’s my pastor from the church.” He laughed again and headed toward the back door. He opened and yelled. “Pastor Gil, I know you’re out there. Come and join us.”
Sarge and Wiley joined Bruce on the deck. Wiley hesitated. Was Pastor Gil in his normal state of mind? Or would he use the pistol?
“I remember now,” Wiley said to Sarge. “Bruce and I had chatted before about him going to church. He said he was infiltrating a local church. Took me a little while to get my head around it.”
“Yep, so what I see here doesn’t surprise me,” Bruce said. “In some cases, it was the blind leading the blind. I listened to a few of his sermons. I didn’t learn much about the Bible, but he preached a lot about how God would help me get wealthy.” He waved his arm around the house. “Maybe he was right.” Bruce cupped his hand around his mouth. “Pastor Gil!” There was no response.
“This one did have a problem with his ego,” Bruce said. “Loved the attention, especially from the ladies. Wouldn’t be surprised if there was a number of husbands out to get him.”
It was the first genuine smirk Wiley had seen on the man’s face.
Wiley detected movement in the yard, and a figure appeared out of some shrubbery near the pool and headed towards them, brushing leaves from his white t-shirt. He had a neatly trimmed beard and his eyes had a watery sparkle.
