The Incubus, Succubus and Son of Perdition Box Set: The Len du Randt Bundle (74 page)

BOOK: The Incubus, Succubus and Son of Perdition Box Set: The Len du Randt Bundle
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- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

Andrew couldn’t believe his eyes as
the ceremony at the Mount of Olives played off on live television. The entire
ceremony and speech was impressive beyond comparison, and Andrew felt himself
on an emotional roller coaster ride.

No!
He rebuked himself.
Get a grip on yourself man! What you just saw was deception,
not truth!

He shot up a quick prayer for strength and protection,
and strangely found himself rejuvenated. He checked his watch and then switched
off the television and left his apartment.

Soon afterward, he was on an airplane headed towards
New Zealand.

 

 

- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

The cab ride from the airport to
his parents’ home was one of deep thought and emotion. A year and four months
have flown past since he last saw them. Although they kept regular email
contact, he still felt somewhat estranged.

He waited for the cab to drive off before ringing the
buzzer to their home. It wasn’t raining, but there was a sort of moistness
everywhere, most probably caused by the overcast clouds.
The weather isn’t
what it used to be
, he thought as he pressed the buzzer again.


Andy!
’ his mother shrieked as she opened the
door. ‘It’s so nice to see you again.’

‘You too, mom,’ he said and the two of them embraced.

‘Come in, come in,’ she said, eyeing the clouds. ‘It’s
cold out here.’

He followed her down the corridor as familiar smells
filled his nostrils. She had been baking. Even the carpet smells were still the
same. He was home again. His father was already standing when they entered the
living room.

‘Son,’ his father said and extended his hand.

Andrew took the hand and used it to pull his father
into his arms. They both embraced and patted each other on the back, and then
reassumed their formal attitudes.

‘So how are things nowadays, Andy?’

‘Things are fine,’ Andrew said, ‘just trying to make an
honest living.’ A smudge on his father’s forehead distracted him. ‘Dad, you
have something...’ he choked when he clearly saw what it was. ‘You have the
mark...the Shield of Victor?’ He felt his legs go numb and his head started
spinning. His heart beat furiously and he felt a nauseous patch in his stomach.

‘Andy?’ His mother asked and lightly
touched his arm. ‘Are you all right?’

He stole a glance at her forehead, but
there was no purple circle. Relief and dread engulfed him simultaneously as his
mind tried to tell him that the Shield wasn’t really the Mark; that it was
innocent. Alistair had been mistaken. Alistair wasn’t even real; just a figment
of his exhausted imagination. ‘I...I’m okay,’ he lied.

‘You had us worried there for a moment,’
his father said.

Andrew didn’t know what to feel. Remorse and relief
bombarded him at once, but it was when his mother gently tugged at his arm that
he just lost control over his emotions and let out a sob. On the soft flesh at
the back of her hand between the thumb and index finger, was a little purple
circle with a Y in it.

‘What’s wrong, Andy?’ his mother asked. ‘What’s the
matter?’

‘Nothing,’ Andrew said and excused himself. ‘I’m a
little tired from the trip. Just happy to see you guys again, that’s all.’

‘My poor boy,’ his mother said and guided him by the
arm. ‘Get some rest. You’ve had a long trip.’

Andrew nodded and walked up the steps with his mother.

‘Get some rest, son,’ his father shouted after them.
‘We’re eating out tonight.’

 

 

- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

Once the door was locked, Andrew
broke down into heavy sobs.
Why them, Lord?
He wailed.
Why? Why them?
Why save me and not them?
He shoved his face into a pillow.
It’s not
fair, Lord!

He cried for a few more minutes before slipping into a
deep sleep.

 

 

- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

The chirpy bleeps of his cell phone
woke him. ‘Uh...Hello...’ He tried his best to hide the fact that he had been
sleeping.

‘Hey bud,’ Trevor’s voice on the other side of the line
came through. ‘Did I just wake you?’

‘No. Not really. Why?’

‘Just wanted to know that you made it okay; and also if
you’re feeling better.’

‘I’m fine,’ Andrew lied. His eyes felt swollen, and he
had to rub them hard to bring everything around him into focus. He checked his
watch. It was 18:30P.M.

‘How are you, Trev?’

‘Same old, same old...you know.’

‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ Andrew said. ‘Didn’t mean
to wake you
that
early.’

‘It’s okay,’ Trevor said. ‘Shift work makes one used to
all sorts of hours.’

Andrew smiled faintly.

‘Did you see the ceremony?’ Trevor asked. ‘That’s some
pretty wild stuff, eh?’

‘I did,’ Andrew said. ‘What did you think about it?’

‘To be honest,’ Trevor said, ‘I don’t know what to
think anymore. On the one hand I feel like it’s all one big scam, but on the
other, I cannot deny the things happening around me.’

‘The blood in Jerusalem,’ Andrew said.

‘That Steven Edgar guy,’ Trevor added. ‘Not to mention
the so-called ‘healings’ of Pascale. You know, I never used to believe in the
supernatural, and nowadays, it’s kinda hard to avoid it.’

‘That’s true...’

‘Anyway,’ Trevor said. ‘Gotta go. There’s a call in the
queue.’

‘Thanks for calling,’ Andrew said. ‘Promise me one
thing.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Promise me that you won’t get the Shield.’

‘Now where did
that
come from?’

‘Just promise me;
please
.’

‘Okay bud,’ Trevor said. ‘I promise. We’ll talk when
you get back, but for now, please just get some rest, okay?’

‘Thanks.’

Andrew dropped the cell phone on the bed.
Please let
it only have been a dream
, Andrew prayed, but in his heart he knew that it
was real. Both his parents had the Mark of the Beast.
Why them, Lord?
He
tried calling on Alistair, but to no avail. He was alone. More alone than he
had ever been in his life.

 

 

- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

‘I’m getting the steak,’ Andrew’s
father said and closed his menu.

‘And for the lady?’ the waiter asked.

‘I’ll have the Chicken Schnitzel,’ she said.

Andrew ordered a steak too, and after everyone had
refined their order to a medium and baked potato with a side plate of salad,
the waiter left.

‘Dad,’ Andrew asked, unsure as to how he should approach
his father.

‘Yes?’ his father asked as he studied the wine list.

‘Can you remember how you told me years ago about an
event called ‘The Rapture’?’

His father nodded. ‘Yes, Andy. Why?’

Andrew didn’t want to make it sound like a big deal.
‘Just wanted to know if you still believe in it?’ he asked.

His father shrugged. ‘I don’t think so, no,’ he said.
‘It’s hard to believe
anything
written in the Bible these days.’

‘And what about the Mark of the Beast?’

‘What about it?’

‘Can you remember warning me against it?’ Andrew asked.
‘Do you still believe that we’re headed toward a cashless society?’

‘I remember,’ his father said and smiled at his own
ignorance. ‘But that was a long time ago. Look around you. We are already
living in a cashless society; have been since the invention of the credit
card.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Why all these questions?’ He saw Andrew’s eyes
glancing at the direction of his forehead and did the math. ‘Do you think that
this
has something to do with the Mark?’ he asked as he tapped the purple circle
with his finger.

‘I’m just speculating, Dad.’

His father laughed. ‘Son, are you actually
listening
to yourself?’

Andrew looked at his mother for backup, but she merely
lowered her eyes, as if she were ashamed of what an embarrassment her son had
turned out to be.


You’re
the one who told
me
these
things,’ Andrew defended his position. ‘You’re the one that taught me about a
one world ruler called Antichrist, who would raise to power in the last days
and implant chips on everyone’s right hand or foreheads.’

‘That was ages ago,’ his father said with certain
finality in his voice. ‘If you’re referring to Victor Yoshe as the Antichrist,
you’re
way
off. These cannot be the last days. A team of scientific
researches just managed to find a way to manipulate the aging gene to the point
where we could live up to a thousand years. Those researches were sponsored by
President Yoshe himself. How could we live a thousand years if these were the
last
days
?’

Andrew remained quiet. He didn’t know what to say.

‘Besides, the Shield isn’t a chip like the one you
expect will be coming. It’s a part of my skin as much as a freckle would be.’

The waiter interrupted their conversation as he placed
their food on the table. He asked if there was anything else, and when they
declined, he left.

‘Those Bible stories are thought up fairy tales to
scare people into obeying the governments and rulers,’ his father said. ‘Don’t
speed, ‘cause speed kills, and
thou shall not kill
. Get what I’m
saying?’

‘And aliens?’ Andrew asked. ‘How can you take proven
text as fairy tales, but believe in something as ludicrous as aliens?’

‘Because they’re there,’ his father said. ‘They almost
caused the destruction of this world, son. You saw it too.’

‘But did you actually
see
the aliens?’ Andrew
asked his father, hoping that Alistair’s words would somehow make a difference.

‘By the grace of God, and President Yoshe’s military
genius, I was spared that inconvenience.’

‘What would you say if someone told you that the ‘alien
attacks’ were in reality the Rapture? That we have all been blinded and duped
by a powerful spiritual force?’

‘I would say that they’re out of their minds,’ his
father said. ‘Some people just never accept the truth.’

‘Speaking of truth,’ Andrew said. ‘Do you still believe
in Jesus?’

Andrew’s father ate another piece of his steak,
thinking deeply as he chewed longer than needed. ‘Don’t think so, no,’ he
finally said. ‘If Victor is the Messiah, Jesus cannot possibly be too. There
can only be one Messiah.’

‘No offence, Dad, but Victor is
not
the
Messiah.’

‘Of course he is!’ Andrew’s father shouted out louder
than he intended to. He slammed his fist on the table and Andrew’s mother let
out a little shriek. ‘He saved the world from sudden destruction. He restored
global economic chaos, he lifted the morale of the planet, and he even has
abilities which no other man on this planet has ever displayed before, except
maybe in comic books and movies. Now have you ever
seen
your Jesus in
action?’

‘Not physically no, but blessed is he who has not seen,
yet believe.’

‘Aw, get off it, Andy. I give you facts, you counter
with fantasy. Forgive me if I rather follow the intellectual reasoning. How can
you expect from me not to believe in aliens because I haven’t seen them, yet
want me to believe in Jesus whom I have also not seen?’

Andrew realized that his father had made up his mind.
According to the Bible, there would be no changing it back for those with the
Mark. The reality of his parents hit him like scud missiles, and he just wanted
to break down and cry for them. They finished their dinner, and after an
awkward week where Andrew realized that it might be the very last time that he
would
ever
see his parents again, he was on an airplane headed back to
South Africa.

He couldn’t get his message through to his parents, but
Trevor and René were still available to receive the truth. He prayed for his
parents, Trevor, René, and his own protection from the terrible things to come.

.X.

 

The Two Prophets

 

 

Now when they have
finished their testimony, the beast that comes up from the Abyss will attack
them, and overpower and kill them.

 

-
Revelation 11:7,
NIV

The flying had worn Andrew out. He
was both physically and emotionally drained, and just fell onto his bed after
entering his room. The reality of his parents having the Mark still tore at his
emotions, and he cried again. Confusion gripped him, and he wondered why the
Lord would spare him, but not those most dear to him.

It’s not fair!
He sobbed. He hit his fist against
the bed.
Why them, Lord?
WHY?

Again, no reply came.

After an hour of crying he sat up. His head was still
filled with questions, and he had no one to speak to. There was Trevor and
René, but they were both still blinded and wouldn’t be able to see the truth,
even if it hit them against the head.

‘I’m sorry, Lord,’ he said softly. ‘I’m just not as
strong as I thought I’d be...’

It was then that it caught his eye. On a bookshelf in
the corner of his room, a book stood out from all the others. He walked over to
it and picked it up. Hope filled his heart as he rubbed his fingers over the
golden lettering that read:
Bible
. He opened it at a random spot and
read a few verses. He then flipped to another section and read more verses.
Soon, he was reading through entire chapters, not able to soak up enough, and
eventually, he had finished reading all four Gospels. He decided to just lie
down for five minutes before continuing, but the emotional conflict and the
jetlag got the most of him. In less than a minute he was fast asleep.

 

 

- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

Timothy’s mind was racing. The two
prophets told him so much about Jesus and salvation that his head couldn’t hold
all the information. If half of what they were proclaiming was true, he had
some serious soul searching to do.

‘I’ll make a deal with you, Jesus,’ he said when he was
finally alone in his room. ‘If you show yourself to me, I will believe in you.’

He waited patiently for something to happen;
anything
.
He wanted a man to appear from nowhere in his room, a window to suddenly jerk
open, or even just a whisper. But nothing happened. There were no lightning
bolts; no man standing there with open arms, and no golden rays of light or
choirs from Heaven. He was alone, and felt quite foolish for even thinking that
anything would actually happen.

‘Don’t you
want
me to believe?’ he shouted at
the ceiling.

Still no answer.

‘This is useless,’ he said and fell back down into his
bed. ‘Those two men are liars. Jesus doesn’t care. For all I know he doesn’t
even exist.’

In a way he was trying to negotiate with God; trying to
con Him into revealing Himself. He didn’t.

Timothy sighed and realized defeat. ‘Well, at least I
tried...’

He stopped in midsentence. ‘What’s this?’ He rolled
over to the table beside his bed and there, under the lamp, was a book clearly
marked:
Holy Bible
.

He opened the Bible and flipped through it. ‘How did
this get here?’ He whispered. He jumped up and ran to the kitchen where his
mother was preparing dinner.

‘Mother,’ he asked, ‘did you leave this on my bedside
table?’

Mary looked at the book and her eyes grew wide. ‘Where
did you get that?’

‘It was on my bedside table. Someone left it there.’

‘Don’t let your father see it,’ she said with a sense
of urgency in her voice. ‘You know what happened when Angie brought one of
those
home.’

‘You’re right,’ Timothy said. ‘No need to repeat that
event ever again.’ He clutched the Bible tightly as his mother looked around
nervously, trying to figure out how they could dispose of it without Malcolm
finding out.

‘I’m going to keep it,’ Timothy said.

‘You can’t. You don’t know what your father will do
when he finds out.’

‘Then he just won’t find out...’

She wanted to convince him to rather get rid of it, but
knew that her son was responsible enough to not do anything foolish that would
disgrace their family name.

‘Well,’ Timothy said, ‘if it wasn’t you, and it
certainly wasn’t dad, then who could it have been? I don’t think that Kassim,
his wife, or his daughters would have left it there. They’re way too devoted to
their faith.’

‘Just promise me that you’ll be careful with that,’
Mary pleaded with her son.

‘I promise,’ Timothy said and went back to his room,
still clutching the Bible tightly. He locked the door and opened the
leather-bound book in the middle. He started reading it, but it didn’t make any
sense to him.

‘Best place to start,’ he said, ‘is at the beginning.’
He opened the Bible at the first chapter of Genesis and started reading softly.

 

 

- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

Andrew was in a deep sleep.
Somewhere during the evening he managed to drag himself out of bed, get out of
his clothes, turn on the television, and even drink some water; but in the
morning, he wouldn’t remember doing any of those things. The television flashed
in the background, but it didn’t disturb him in any way.

‘And in international news,’ the GMN reporter said.
‘N-Force has laid claim to the properties of those lost in the alien onslaught.
In the coming months, houses and flats will be allocated to those who are in
need. A Global initiative called, ‘
Project Give
’ is said to deal with
the poverty in the third world countries. All people are asked to share as much
of their wealth and resources in an effort to eradicate famine and
homelessness.

‘Those currently squatting in the empty houses and
flats will be relocated to encampments where they will stay until the
properties are officially allocated to new owners.’

Andrew woke for a second, stretched to reach for the
remote, gave up the futile attempt, and let his head crash into the pillow with
a soft
thud
.

 

 

- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

South Africa:
One Week Later

 

The knock on the door interrupted
their conversation.

Trevor looked at René. ‘Are you expecting anyone?’

‘No,’ she said and looked at the door. She lowered her
voice to a whisper, ‘Are you?’

He frowned and got up. ‘No.’

He walked to the door and peeped through the hole. He
could see that there was someone standing there, but couldn’t make out who it
was. There was another knock and Trevor unlocked and opened the door.

‘Andy?’

Andrew just raised a hand and gave a feeble wave. He
forced a faint smile and it appeared as if he hadn’t been sleeping for weeks.
He had also lost weight since Trevor had last seen him, and Trevor thought that
he was in fact maybe a little
too
thin. ‘Hey,’ he said meekly.

‘You look like Hell, bud,’ Trevor said as his friend
entered the apartment. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I wish that I could say I’m all right,’ he said as
they entered the living room where René jumped up and threw her arms around
him. ‘And in a way I am...’

‘But...?’ Trevor probed.

‘My parents...’

‘Are they...are they okay?’ René asked and held her
hand to her mouth.

‘Physically they’re fine,’ he said.

‘But...?’ Trevor guided him.

‘But spiritually they’re...’ He choked and tears
brimmed in his eyes.

René touched his arm lightly. ‘Here,’ she motioned to
the sofa. ‘Have a seat.’

Andrew slumped down in the sofa and buried his face in
his hands.

‘What’s wrong with them spiritually?’ Trevor asked as
patiently as he could manage.

Andrew wanted to tell them, but he knew that it would
be of no use. They were blinded, and there would be
no
way for them to
see or understand what it is that he was so upset about. He sighed deeply and
then looked at his two friends. They didn’t have the Mark yet, and he prayed
that it would stay that way; that the three of them would be able to stick
together until the very end. ‘Nothing,’ he said eventually. ‘Actually, they’re
fine...’

‘Are you sure?’ Trevor asked. ‘You look shook up, man.’

‘I’m…They’re fine...really.’

‘I know what will cheer you up,’ René said and smiled
broadly. ‘How about a nice cup of coffee?’

Andrew managed a faint smile. ‘That would be great.
Thanks.’

René left for the kitchen and Trevor sat down next to
Andrew. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked. ‘You haven’t quite
been...yourself lately.’

‘I’m fine,’ Andrew said, trying to put an end to the
interrogation.

Trevor frowned, but let it go. Andrew was old and
mature enough to look out for himself. ‘If you want to talk, I’ll be here,
okay?’

‘Thanks, Trev,’

René returned and handed each of them a cup of steaming
coffee. They took it and sipped slowly at it. Trevor looked over Andrew’s
shoulder at the television and a smile broadened across his face. ‘Now if
this
doesn’t cheer you up,’ he said and upped the volume with the remote,
‘nothing will.’

‘Oh goody,’ René said excitedly and took a seat next to
Trevor.

‘What’s this?’ Andrew asked.

‘It’s
The World’s Funniest Deaths
,’ Trevor said
as if it was supposed to have been general knowledge. He stole a
where-on-Earth-have-you-been
glance at Andrew, but then quickly directed his attention back to the
television.

Andrew also turned towards the T.V. He couldn’t believe
his eyes. On the program, people were dying in the most horrific ways possible;
all of the incidents accidentally videotaped by horrified family members as
they helplessly looked on. Each time the narrator commented on the deaths and
Trevor and René would laugh out loudly, sometimes repeating the narrator’s
comments. Andrew just sat there, bewildered.

The next death scene aired, and a boy on a skateboard
jumped and slid down a pole. ‘Doctor,’ the narrator said, ‘it only hurts when I
do
this!
’ The boy fell off the skateboard and crashed headfirst into the
concrete steps, sprawling his arms and legs in every direction.

Trevor and René burst out laughing, and the movie clip
froze, showing the viewers at exactly which moment the boy snapped his neck in
three places. The clip continued, and the boy lay lifeless at the bottom of the
steps. Andrew felt as if he was going to be sick.
Please God,
he prayed
through Trevor and René’s laughter.
Save me from this!

 

 

- - -*  *  *- -
-

 

 

South Africa:
Two Weeks Later

 

Trevor had seventy four messages in
his inbox. Most of them were unsolicited emails—SPAM in technical lingo—but
there were some that were of quite high importance. Trevor regarded those from
GMN as high enough to read through. There were quite a few of those. He read
some of the headlines:

 

- Flood in Brazil kills seven
hundred

- Two thousand dead, and three
hundred injured in China Quake

- Mosquito plague in Israel
linked to two misfits

- More terrorist attacks leave
hundreds dead

 

One headline especially caught his
attention:

 

- Building of Jewish Temple
completed

 

He clicked on the link and the web
page opened up to reveal the full article. According to certain sources, the
Jewish Ark of the Covenant had been hidden in a cave directly underneath the
location of the old Dome of the Rock. Had the Dome still been standing, it
would have been impossible to retrieve the Ark without causing severe structural
damage. The Muslims would never have allowed that. The article also stated that
traditional animal sacrifices would be made to God; a sacrifice that had been
stopped after the destruction of the second Temple in 70 A.D.

Trevor closed the page and continued through the
headlines:

 

- ‘Peace and Safety’ campaign to
boost morale

- Israel plagues spreads to
America, Asia, and some parts of Africa

- Drought linked to two false
prophets

- Smart Card fraud leads to
serious frustration and public outcry

- Shield of Victor
to
replace Smart Card

 

Trevor closed the email. He
couldn’t concentrate. His thoughts were with Andrew and his strange, new
behaviour. It wasn’t drugs. Not according to Andrew at least. Trevor wondered
if he should perhaps get some professional help for Andrew. It was his duty as
his friend to get him assistance when he wasn’t able to do so himself. He
looked over at where the Eckard brothers used to sit, and wondered if they
would have approved Andrew’s crazy Christian babble. He placed his bet on the
fact that they most probably would have. Trevor shook his head at the absurdity
of it all and sighed as a call came through.

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