Everything about this place took my breath away. The mask of perfection, the air…I inhaled and felt the Calling hum in my veins.
I skirted the kaleidoscope of vibrant hues and made for the stairs. I could almost hear the voices, almost feel the love—the feeling resonated from the bricks and the timber…it flooded this place like the bright light.
So much love. So much desperation and joy and hope. I reached out, skimmed my fingers along the timber railing and stopped. Hope.
A steel platform lay on its side, the frame bent in the middle, bowing around a book underneath. I stepped closer and knelt. The leather-bound book was face down, the spine snapped, and opened in the middle. Holy Bible stamped in gold on the front of the ornate black leather.
I reached out, and brushed the hard edges. Power raced, singeing the tips of my fingers. I yanked my hand to my chest. A hiss escaped with the sting. It was just a book, just leather and paper…just words.
Just words…the thought raced. There was nothing to fear, no bullets, no guns, no men waiting to capture me. Only this…only perfect corners and soft leather.
My fingers curled, knuckles skimming the edge. The jolt was instant, hot, shooting into my bones before it faded. Pain became something else, something that welled in the darkness. Something that hungered for the light.
Hard leather bowed under my grip as I snagged the edge and pulled the book free. It slid, pages curling underneath, until I gripped the spine and turned it over.
Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals…
Those words seized me, blinded me…bolded words melded into one, and through them the light…the blinding light. I tried to blink, tried to wrench myself from the hold and focused on the words…
Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.
Revelation…
Conquering and to conquer. A shudder raced, consuming me.
Come…I closed my eyes as that voice filled me.
It was him…the man in my dream. The one riding a white horse with an emerald on his finger. The one who commanded. The one who looked at me as though I were not the hunter—but the prey.
We’ve been waiting. He whispered, and those words filled my head.
I wrenched from the memory, and turned to the yellows and red, the light sparkling like jewels. “Who are they? Tell me what you want me to do.”
Dust motes were swallowed by the perfect hue. I closed my eyes to the image, and opened my mind, searching for the light. Flashes filled me, blood, screams…hunger…and the plague.
I flinched from the image, swallowed hard, and tried to breathe. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m ready.”
The tremble in my hand raced, tearing along my arm. The glare was instant, blinding, stealing the air in my lungs. Heat bloomed, spreading through my chest.
Through the light they came for me. Blood, screams cut through the glare and were swallowed again as four shadows rose. They moved together, surging forward as though they were one. “Who are they?”
And out of the glare came the words. They are the horsemen, and they are here.
The clip-clop of hooves resounded. “What do they want?”
Silence. Silence so loud my ears rang. “What do they want?”
They are what they are. But you can defeat them, Harlow. This is your burden, your cross to bear. This is your salvation.
“What do they want?” Desperation bloomed as those blurs sharpened.
You, Harlow. They want you.
Tears welled, stealing the beautiful colors in the air. But the vision in my head was crystal clear as the four riders slowed to a stop.
Darkness shrouded their faces from the wide hoods and dark robes they wore, but I could feel them…their desire, their purpose—their hunger.
I lifted my gaze to the shadows that clung to their faces and moved closer. The vision blurred, the illusion became almost real. I stepped again, until the soft nicker of the pale horse stilled me.
“What do you want with me?”
The pale horse moved closer and stopped. The rider swung his leg over the wide saddle and slid to the ground. I lifted my gaze to the edges of the hood and then moved it toward his eyes. Power raced, crackling like a storm. I took a step, needing to see him…needing to touch him. My fingers danced, fighting the urge to rise.
Careful, Harlow. The light urged.
The hooded figure wrenched his head up at the sound of that voice.
I knew then—knew the two sides at war.
One good.
One bad.
Power lashed the air, hitting me like the crack of a whip. The beast growled…away from her…she belongs to us.
Not yet, the light pulsed…there’s still time. She’ll come for you…she’ll hunt you down.
The growl deepened, turning dark and feral. Lightning cut the darkening sky, consuming His light.
“Come.” The horseman lifted a hand, palm up, fingers reaching… “You belong with us.”
And out of the lightning came screams of rage, screams of hunger—screams of lust.
The ground trembled and shuddered, shattering the glass and leveling the shelves along the wall as I slapped my hand over my ears.
“Stop,” the word was drowned out by the roar. “Stop!”
Blood and wounds flashed. Still the screams tormented, tearing me open from the inside…for they weren’t just anyone’s screams—they were mine.
Choose, Harlow, the light urged. You have to choose. Do you belong to the darkness, or do you belong to the light?
My hand slipped, pages fluttered. The earth was a beast of its own, cracks raced along the walls behind me, somewhere in the building a boom tore free.
Choose…God commanded.
I lifted my hand, drawn by something deeper than fear, much hungrier than lust, and stared into the shadows of his pale rider’s hood. He lifted his hand, long thin fingers reached for me, almost brushing, almost touching.
I wasn’t in the driver’s seat anymore, there was something more powerful at play—something I needed to know—to understand.
The emerald glinted on his finger in the flash of neon light as the horseman surged forward, fingers curled to capture my hand.
CHOOSE, HARLOW!
Out of God’s desperation came something else.
Something perfect.
Something real.
Something that stilled my breath, and the shake in my hand.
A world…our world. But not the world we lived in. A world that could be.
Blue skies and white clouds, happy faces of men, women, and children working, laughing—living. They were so healthy, eyes shining brightly, perfect glowing skin. Their hair was long and lustrous, just like Mom’s and Sarah’s before…before the plague….
“I choose the light,” the words slipped free as an ache filled my chest. I held onto that world with its greens and blues. I held on while the dark skies faded overhead.
“Then you’ve already lost,” the horseman growled.