“Should’ve brought our phones,” Wally said. “Just look at the moon reflecting on the water. A great picture.”
The tall woman in the gown had looked in their direction at one stage. Had she sensed their presence? Christopher didn’t care. The ugly green demon beside the woman was doing its utmost to let her know their circle was being observed, so Christopher knew they were up to no good.
It had all looked harmless—from an earthly point of view—until they put up a big black sheet. It was obvious they were concealing something. Of course they were—the occult was all about hidden, dark things.
After the black sheet was let down, they packed up and left. Some removed their robes, while others left them on. Some looked dazed. The girls from the ferry terminal were there. Was one of them missing? He wasn’t sure. Where was the long box? Had they carried it out?
They watched the tall woman get in a boat and leave.
Once all was quiet and the light of the boat was a dim light on the bay, Christopher and Wally walked through the grasslands of the estuary and followed the path.
“Come on, Wally. Let me show you the symbol I found.”
“That was all pretty weird, Churchie. They all looked like zombies at the end there.”
“High on energy or drugs? That’s the question.”
“The place spooks me. Let’s not hang around too long. It’s already past my bedtime. Well past.”
It was past their bedtime. But Christopher had received a prompting to visit the estuary parklands and as he matured more in his faith and his gifting, he’d became better at hearing and obeying such promptings. So he’d stopped Wally putting on his old-man pyjamas—his flannels—and convinced him he needed to experience the island’s nightlife. Wally grumbled but complied.
Christopher sensed the presence of evil and, although he preferred not too, he sensed he needed to turn on his spiritual vision. He held a blink for longer than usual then opened his eyes. Several demons floated around. They were of the lesser type—ones that hadn’t been able to attach themselves to anyone.
A group of demons were huddled in an area. They turned and looked towards Christopher and Wally. One broke away from the group and advanced towards the intruders, snarling, which triggered a similar response from the other demons. Christopher had no fear as he and Wally were both protected by the Holy Spirit. Both were protected from the power of darkness by the blood of Jesus. The demons must have sensed this as they approached, because they fled.
Christopher stared at the pile of dirt in the area vacated by the demons. The pile of dirt seemed smaller to when he last visited. Where was the pit he saw earlier? What had the people done? It looked like they’d buried something. A sacrifice? An animal or something?
Or someone.
He needed to bring the police in to this situation.
They turned to leave and Christopher’s angel appeared before him.
“Hello, Ethan.”
“Listen.” Ethan said.
Wally looked at Christopher. “Huh? Who you talking to?”
Christopher smiled and raised his eyebrows.
“You still do those things, Churchie.”
“I do. It’s a disability I have, but not really a disability, a gifting.”
He was glad Wally hadn’t seen the demons, but would’ve loved Wally to see the angel standing before them now. Although Christopher believed Wally would be disappointed, as Ethan was just like them in appearance—no wings, nothing unusual. Just an aura of strength and wellbeing and power, a contrast to the appearance of the workers of the enemy, whose features were decaying through their involvement with darkness and evil.
Ethan had raised his finger to his lips.
“Shhh.” Christopher said. “We need to listen.”
Silence.
Then Christopher heard something—a scream from inside the earth.
“Dig.” That was all Ethan said, and Christopher knew what he meant and why he had appeared. His revelation could not be a thought to be pondered and assessed. It was an urgent instruction.
Dig.
“There’s somebody buried there, Wally.” He pointed to an area where the pit was. It was bare of grass and covered with a mound of dirt. It was the area which had been concealed by the black curtain.
Christopher noticed a perplexed look on Wally’s face.
“I’m not digging up a dead body, mate.”
“Dead? Who said anything about dead?”
“What? Are you saying someone has been buried alive? Strewth! We better do something and quick.” He looked right and left.
“You looking for something to dig with?”
“Yep.”
Christopher rushed over to some shrubbery. “There were shovels here earlier, but they’re gone.”
“This is not good. Best we start with our hands.” Wally was on his knees, hands cupped, scooping and throwing back dirt like a dog. Christopher joined him.
“How far down, do you think?” Wally asked, puffing.
