The Seventh Door

  Matt kept an eye on Tamiel’s hands, now clasped in front with the phone lodged between them. No sign of a lie, though he said only that the drones would give a warning, not that they would descend to join in a battle. With so many, they could be overwhelming, especially since, according to Enoch, their venom brought paralysis, death, or insanity.

  Tamiel glanced at his phone. “If Bonnie fails to show within five minutes, I will send the order to push the domino, and we can leave long before the truck arrives.”

  Sapphira whispered, “Matt, someone’s coming. Look in the trees next to the driveway.”

  Matt shifted his eyes. Lauren peeked around a tree, then quickly hid.

  Keeping a straight face, he refocused on Tamiel. How could Lauren have gotten here? What might she be planning? With a powerful dragon and a crafty demon around, she couldn’t possibly sneak up and hope to do anything helpful. Unless . . . Matt swallowed hard. She could do something helpful . . . and horrible. Simply touching Tamiel would kill them both.

  Sapphira edged closer to Matt. “Here she comes.”

  Now out in the open, Lauren strolled down the driveway as if walking in a park, her head erect and her eyes straight ahead.

  Tamiel looked her way, blinking rapidly. “Stay back!” he shouted, lifting his phone. “Or I will send a message that will start a nuclear war.”

  Lauren slowed her pace. As she entered the circular yard, she stared at Matt as if asking for verification. Behind Tamiel, Darcy slowly rose to all fours and crawled toward him.

  “He’s not lying,” Matt called. “He really can start a holocaust.”

  Lauren halted within fifty paces. A stitched wound marred her forehead, blood trickled from jagged cuts on her chin and hands, and holes in her pants revealed bleeding skin on her knees. “Tamiel,” she said, her voice clear and confident, “put down the phone. You know what I can do to you.”

  “And what I can do to you.” He slid one step back. “Don’t take me for a fool. Self-preservation is the strongest of instincts. You are wise enough to stay away.”

  “Wise or foolish, I’ll let others judge that.” Lauren resumed her confident march.

  “Lauren!” Matt sprinted to her and grabbed her shoulders. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I can’t let you.”

  “This isn’t your choice.” She caressed his cheek. Her eyes sparkled on her battle-weary face. “I love you, Matt. You’re the best brother a girl could ever ask for.”

  Tamiel pointed at them. “Arramos, if you would be so kind. Kill them both. Sapphira will collect the key from his charred body.”

  “My pleasure.” Arramos reared his head back. When he whipped it forward, fire blasted forth from his mouth and nostrils. Sapphira slung a flaming ball that plunged into the orange flow, diverting it into the sky.

  Matt pulled Lauren to a crouch. “Stay low!”

  Sapphira heaved ball after ball. After the fourth one, considerably weaker than the others, Lauren broke free and crawled toward Tamiel. Matt scrambled after her, grasping at her ankles, but she kept jerking loose.

  “Get away!” Tamiel shouted, now backpedaling quickly.

  Lauren continued crawling under the barrage of flames. “In your dreams.”

  Just as Sapphira launched a fireball directly at Arramos’s face, Lauren leaped up and ran at Tamiel.

  “Lauren!” Matt shouted. “Don’t!”

  Tamiel set a finger over the phone’s screen. “Let the billions die!”

  Darcy lunged, snatched the phone from Tamiel, and slid on the grass, the phone in her hand.

  Lauren never slowed. Her eyes fixed on Tamiel, she broke into a sprint.

  Tamiel turned and ran. “Master! Rescue me!”

  Arramos beat his wings and launched from the ground. Just before Lauren caught up with Tamiel, Arramos grabbed him and lifted him into the air, inches away from Lauren’s lunging grasp.

  “You coward!” Lauren shouted, her eyes following their flight. “Are you scared of a girl?”

  Arramos orbited several feet overhead in a tight circle. “Your taunting is useless,” Tamiel called as he dangled from the dragon’s rear claws. “I am not a gullible fool.”

  Lauren stood underneath them, pivoting as she watched their orbit. “Maybe you aren’t gullible, but a dragon who jumps to obey your every command certainly is. It looks like you’re the master, and he’s the slave.”

  “We work together.” Tamiel spread out his arms. “He needs me to help him eliminate mankind.”

  Matt jogged to Lauren. Her verbal attack was brilliant, but dangerous. Arramos’s ego had already been damaged. “You’d better cool it,” he whispered. “He’s liable to—”

  “Arramos needs you?” Lauren laughed, her stare still locked on the flight path. “Arramos, the mighty dragon, needs a pipsqueak like you?”

  “He is mighty, to be sure,” Tamiel said, “but he needs my ingenuity. Who else could have come up with this brilliant plan to open the seventh door?”

  Arramos roared. “I have had enough of your self-inflating ego! My own plan is sufficient.” He opened his claws. Tamiel fell and landed in Lauren’s outstretched arms.

  She wrestled him to the ground. Holding his hands in hers, she pressed her cheek against his. Fire erupted over Tamiel’s body and spread over Lauren.

  Matt dove and pried Lauren free. He rolled with her in the grass, batting away the flames. When they stopped, he rose to his knees and laid her on her back. Breathing heavily, he straddled her and looked her over. The flames had been snuffed. They couldn’t have done much damage. She would be all right.

  He blew a few ashes from her face. “Lauren? Can you hear me?”

  She blinked at him, her skin ghostly pale. “Is . . . is Tamiel dead?”

  Matt looked toward Tamiel. The demon’s body twitched in death throes and continued burning. As if prompted by the death of their master, the drones lifted into the sky and flew lazily away. Well beyond Tamiel, Arramos flew back and forth, spewing some kind of thick liquid from his mouth. The fluid landed on the grass in a series of dark swaths. After a few seconds, he lifted higher into the air and soared out of sight.

  Matt caressed Lauren’s cheek. “He’s dead. You killed him.”

  “Good.” She held a hand over his. “And now I’m going to die.”

  “What? No, no. I put out the fire. You’re fine.”

  She shook her head. “I can feel my life draining. I think I . . .” Her eyelids fluttered. “I have only a few seconds left.”

  “How can that be? You just—”

  She set a finger on his lips. “It’s time . . . time to say good-bye, dear brother.” Her faltering voice weakened to a bare whisper. “I hope to see you . . . in Heaven someday. Please tell Mom and Dad that I love them . . . and . . . and good-bye.”

  Matt swallowed hard. Tears flowed. “I . . . I can’t say good-bye. I just can’t.”

  “Then . . .” She winced briefly. “Then will you kiss me good night?”

  “Kiss you?”

  She nodded. Her face paler than ever, she raised a trembling hand and touched her furrowed brow.

  Matt brushed back her blood-matted bangs and kissed her softly on the forehead. When he lifted away, she smiled. “Good night, Matt. . . . I love you . . . and . . . I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Her eyes closed, and her head lolled to the side.

  Chapter 22

  TO OPEN OR NOT TO OPEN

  “Lauren?” Matt set a finger against her throat. No heartbeat. No breathing. “Lauren!”

  He set the heels of his hands on her chest and pushed—once, twice, three times. “Darcy! Help me do CPR! I need a breather!”

  Darcy ran to them and knelt at Lauren’s side. “What do I do?”

  He continued pumping at a rapid rate. “Tilt her head back. Breathe into her mouth . . . twice . . . every time I stop.” After the thirtieth pump, he lifted away. “Now!”

  Darcy tilt
ed Lauren’s head back, set her lips around hers, and blew once, then inhaled and blew again. Lauren’s chest rose with each attempt, but when Darcy leaned back, the motion stopped.

  “Get Sapphira over here,” Matt said as he continued pumping Lauren’s chest.

  Darcy turned on her knees and shouted, “Sapphira! We need your help!”

  While counting to thirty again, Matt gazed at Lauren’s face— motionless, tinted blue, no sign of blood flow. No sign of life.

  When Sapphira arrived, she knelt on Lauren’s other side. “How can I help?”

  “You’re an Oracle of Fire. Can you see anything I can’t?” Matt lifted away. “It’s time to breathe again.”

  Sapphira blocked Darcy with a hand. “Let me.” She bent low and pressed her lips against Lauren’s. She inhaled through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth. As Lauren’s chest rose again, Sapphira closed her eyes. She inhaled again, this time with her mouth, drawing out what she had just exhaled, making Lauren’s chest sink.

  As Sapphira straightened, she sighed, tears evident as she turned toward Matt. “Lauren is gone. Her soul is no longer there. You won’t be able to revive her.”

  “No.” Matt shook his head. “No, I have to keep trying.” He set his hands on Lauren’s chest again and began pumping. “She was fine . . .” His throat tightened, pitching his voice higher. “She didn’t burn. She barely got singed. She has to revive. She just has to.”

  Sapphira grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Matt. . . . Don’t. . . . ’s over.”

  Matt stared at her. As tears dripped to his cheeks, Sapphira raised a glowing hand and caressed his face with a warm palm. “Fear not, Matt. The Lord will carry her safely home.”

  “The Lord?” Matt rose to his feet and backed away, pointing at Lauren. “The Lord let this happen! She’s my sister! He let my sister die!”

  Darcy sprang up and grasped his arm. “She gave her life willingly to save the world. You would have done the same. We all would have. Sacrifice is what love is all about.”

  “Don’t give me that!” Matt jerked away. “What would a prostitute know about love?”

  Darcy’s lips thinned out. “I know enough about love to ignore what you just said to me.”

  “Whatever!” Matt turned and staggered several steps away. His heart pounded, aching worse than any stab wound. Thoughts scrambled. Lauren was dead. Dead! His dear sister! After only a few precious moments with her, she had been ripped away from his arms, all because of that foul demon. She was so courageous, so loving. She didn’t want anyone else to suffer at Tamiel’s hands.

  Matt gritted his teeth. And now how did her stupid brother respond to Darcy? Like a bitter fool who stabbed wildly at someone who didn’t deserve it. That dark shadow was still in his soul, a demon of his own that even Lauren’s love couldn’t cast out.

  He turned slowly toward Darcy and Sapphira, both now standing next to Lauren’s body. “I’m sorry.” He brushed tears from both eyes. “I was stupid. I acted like an idiot, and . . . and I’m sorry.

  Darcy walked straight to him and embraced him. “I forgive you, Matt.” She pulled back and clutched the lapels of his open jacket. “We’ll get through this together. If you’ll let me be your sister again, I’ll do better. I promise.”

  “My sister?” The demonic shadow loomed again. She wants to replace Lauren? A prostitute replace someone so pure, so holy? No. She couldn’t. Impossible.

  Matt brushed away the thoughts and took in a deep cleansing breath. “Thank you, Darcy. I appreciate it.”

  An engine roared, closing in quickly. Seconds later, the Mustang barreled into the yard, slinging dirt. Before it came to a full stop, two doors flew open. Mom jumped from the car and flew toward Lauren. “Lauren! Are you all right?”

  Dad leaped out, raised an automatic rifle to his shoulder, and swung it around, apparently searching for a target. When Mom landed at Lauren’s side, she knelt and wept. Her body rocked in heaving spasms. “Lauren! . . . My baby! . . . Oh, dear God, why is she dead?” She sucked in a halting breath and cried on. “If only . . . if only we hadn’t taken . . . so long to get here! If only . . . she had waited for us!”

  Matt shuffled slowly toward them. How could he comfort anyone, especially a grieving mother? His own heart had already been shredded. “Dad!” he shouted. “Arramos and Tamiel are gone. Mom needs you.”

  Dad ran toward them, still holding the rifle. “I’m coming!”

  Matt stopped. Better to let him provide comfort, at least for now. He gave Darcy a light nudge with his elbow. “Do you . . .” He swallowed, but his throat stayed tight. “Do you still have Tamiel’s phone?”

  “Right here.” She withdrew it from her pocket, her own tears evident as she spoke with a shaky voice. “I was trying to check to see if he sent that message, but then . . . you know.”

  “Did you look at the sent messages?”

  She nodded. “Nothing there at all. Maybe he doesn’t save them. Some kind of security setting.”

  The phone chimed. A message icon flashed on the screen. Darcy tapped it and read the message out loud. “Command acknowledged. Taking Russian missile verification to president. Expect full arsenal launch within the hour.”

  “Quick! Send a countermand! Tell him to stand down!”

  “You do it.” Darcy pushed the phone into his hand. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

  A flatbed truck rumbled into view. When it stopped between the remains of two houses, Elam jumped out and sprinted into the circle. A giant man, presumably Yereq, leaped off the bed and lumbered behind him. Elam ran to Sapphira and gathered her into his arms.

  Matt focused on the phone again and scanned the screen. Where was the New Message button? Ah. There. When he tapped the button, a text box popped up—Enter Password.

  “What?” He stared at the request. “Why would he protect sending but not receiving?”

  Darcy shrugged. “I guess he didn’t care who read incoming stuff as long as no one could send a command in his name.”

  “How could we possibly guess his password?”

  She took the phone back. “I’ll try some guesses, like the one he said would unlock the seventh address.”

  “I don’t remember it. My brain feels empty.”

  “I do. It’s Lucifer backwards.” Darcy punched it in. “Nope. I’ll keep trying. Maybe search his body for a note. Since he was wearing flame-retardant clothes, something in his pocket could have survived.” A new tear followed a track down her cheek. “You should go to your parents. Someone needs to tell them what happened.”

  At Lauren’s body, Mom and Dad knelt together on one side, Mom with her hands covering her face, Dad with an arm around her.

  “You’re right.” Matt jogged toward them, passing Tamiel’s remains. Smoke curled up from his clothes. A misshapen skull and skeletal hands protruded from his shirt, all scorched. It seemed strange that a demonic spirit would have a body at all, much less one that remained visible after being burned to a crisp.

  When he drew near, Mom looked up. She stretched out her arm as if begging for a morsel of bread. Matt ran the rest of the way, knelt on Lauren’s opposite side, and slid his hand into Mom’s.

  “What . . .” Tears pouring down her grief-ravaged face, Mom caressed Lauren’s hand, a thumb rubbing the red gem in her ring. “What happened, Matt?” She sucked in a breath and stared at him, her body shaking in time with suppressed sobs.

  “She gave her life to save us all.” While he told the story, the others began gathering around—Elam and Sapphira and Yereq. An old gray bus marked County Prison rattled down the driveway and rolled into the grassy yard. When it stopped, Walter and Ashley emerged and hurried to join them. Seconds later, Mariel got out of the bus and guided Thomas their way.

  Soon, everyone congregated around Lauren’s corpse. Bits and pieces of several stories passed from mouth to ear until everyone heard all the details, including how they found shelter for the forme
r prisoners. Now Gabriel waited with Roxil, who was slowly recovering, and because of her improvement, when Walter and Ashley came along in the bus, Mariel and Thomas decided to ride to the prison with them.

  When Ashley noticed the words etched on the seventh door, she told of her journey with Walter down a seemingly endless staircase that led to Sapphira’s abode. All along the way, Dante’s eerie phrase was engraved in Italian in the staircase walls. Larry had translated it based on an entry in a reference work, though she later learned that the work’s English rendering was slightly off. This new etching translated it properly. She then theorized that a similar journey might await anyone who passed through the door.

  Elam related his story about having to leave Makaidos and Thigocia behind while he hitchhiked with Yereq. The flatbed truck driver, a seventysomething war veteran, showed no fear of Yereq. In fact, he seemed thrilled to rekindle a bit of excitement in his life. After a conversation-filled drive of many miles, Elam dropped him off in a small town nearby and promised to make arrangements to get the truck back to him.

  When everyone finished their summaries, including a word of concern about the recently departed drones, Darcy crouched next to Matt and slid the phone into his hand. “Nothing I tried works. I searched Tamiel’s clothes and found a scrap of paper, but the numbers on it didn’t work either.” She displayed a wrinkled strip of paper pinched between her finger and thumb. “I tried it forwards, backwards, and scrambled a couple of ways. It’s useless.”

  “Then the missiles are going to launch. Lauren didn’t stop Tamiel from starting a war.” Matt forced a lower tone to keep from squeaking. “Her sacrifice was in vain.”

  “Matt,” Walter said, extending a hand. “Give me the phone and the paper. I’ll try to patch into Larry and see if he can help.”

  Matt handed them over. “Think it’s encrypted?”

  “That’s one possibility. If anyone can decrypt it, Larry can.”

  “Larry’s back online?” Elam asked.

  Walter began tapping the phone’s screen. “Full speed, secure, and as painfully witty as ever. Ashley called Lois from the shelter and heard the news. Carly’s fine, too. She and Lois are holed up in a warehouse somewhere in West Virginia.” His brow arched. “Ah! I can make a call. Just no access to sending text messages.”