Empty Is the Grave Read online

  The angel’s cryptic question replayed in his head. Are you willing to risk everything?

  His answer hadn’t changed.

  But what would be required of him before the day was out?

  Eight

  The gunfire echoed down the barren corridor.

  Chloe clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream rising in her throat.

  They were all gonna die!

  The big African American guard ahead of them turned and glared at her, swiping his hand in a swift, downward motion.

  Be quiet.

  Like it was that easy.

  Any noise could give away their location, but she couldn’t help it. There was literally like an army with guns and they had what, two men, a con, and her and Switch?

  She didn’t want to die. Not here. Not today. Not like this.

  The guard ahead of her – had Rafe called him Rush? – flexed his fingers on the gun in his hands. He looked down the hallway, in the direction of the gunshots and screams, then looked back at their pathetic little group.

  Probably trying to figure out who to help. His men or them?

  He turned to face them. “Move. We’ll head for the lighthouse.”

  The words, barely above a hiss, seemed impossibly loud in the sudden silence as the gunfire ceased and screams faded.

  With the Hispanic guard leading the way and Rush pressing in behind, they turned and hurried back the way they had come.

  More gunshots echoed, but in the distance.

  It appeared that all the bad guys, whoever they were, had entered in some other part of the prison.

  She hoped.

  She didn’t know what they’d do if they encountered a bunch of armed guys at the main entrance.

  How much ammo could these two guards have, anyway? They surely hadn’t come here expecting this kind of trouble.

  They made it to the main door without incident.

  Her throbbing ankle reminded her that she really should be sitting down.

  Heck, she should be at home, with her ankle elevated and ice on it.

  But at this point, she’d be lucky if she ever saw her home again.

  At least if she died, her dad would finally be free to live his life.

  The Hispanic guard reached the main door, paused, then eased it open.

  No gunshots responded.

  He pulled the door open further.

  This was it. If someone was out there, they were all dead.

  Nothing.

  Just the distant echo of gunfire somewhere deeper in the prison.

  Rafe tightened his hold on her slightly and propelled her forward.

  This Rafe guy believed in God. She wasn’t sure if he was right, but she hoped so. Because maybe Rafe’s God could get them out of this alive.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  It sounded like a war zone.

  Pop-pop-pop. Echoed by even more popping.

  Prayers filled Josiah’s mind as he navigated the rocky outcropping.

  The spiritual oppression surrounding the island grew. Above him, the dark forces worked into a tumult, a sure sign that human life was being extinguished and souls were being lost forever.

  The weight pressed in on him, thickening the air. He longed to help them, all of them, but it was too big for him.

  But not too big for God.

  Lord, save them. If it’s in Your holy will, please turn them to You before it’s too late.

  Nothing was impossible.

  Yet human repentance was a rare treasure, even when faced with their own mortality. He’d witnessed the stubborn will rise up too often to be deluded into thinking deathbed confessions of faith were common.

  Especially when death came swiftly through a bullet.

  A rush of wind blew his dreadlocks back from his face.

  The wind was anything but refreshing. Rather than carrying the mist from the sea, it carried the heavy stench of sulfur.

  He’d been discovered.

  He looked up as what appeared to be a man touched down in front of him.

  But this was no man.

  The creature masqueraded as an angel of light, as the forces of darkness so often did, but the dead black eyes revealed the void inside.

  Still, with its chiseled cheekbones, strong nose, square jawline, and thick brown hair, the demon looked anything but evil. Humans would measure it attractive by physical standards. Yet evil radiated off the being in waves, and hatred burned from its twisted, dead heart.

  The demon hovered a few inches above the ground and floated to Josiah’s side.

  “You don’t belong here. You don’t belong anywhere. You’re worthless, a failure at all you do. No one loves you, certainly not God. It’s a lie, all of it. It always has been. You should drown yourself in the ocean and end it all.”

  The words whispered from the demon’s nearly translucent lips to Josiah’s soul.

  Josiah turned and stared up at the empty black eyes. “I am a child of King Jesus and your lies have no effect on me.”

  The demon whipped back as if slapped.

  Several heartbeats passed. The demon’s lips curved into a smile that contained no warmth. “So. You can see me. You must think you’re something special.”

  “I am chosen. I am loved by my Father, who is stronger than you will ever be.”

  The smile morphed into a sneer. “You are not welcome here. Leave now and I will not destroy you.”

  Destroy him? Josiah felt a grin creep onto his face. A chuckle started in his throat and burst forth in a full-blown laugh.

  This angel of darkness thought he could intimidate him? With all the forces of heaven on his side?

  “You can’t touch me. I have been sent by the Commander of Heaven’s Armies.”

  The demon hissed. “You’re out of your league, Christian.”

  But Josiah wasn’t done. “In the name of Jesus Christ, the sinless Lamb who was slain, I bind you and command you to leave this place.”

  Light surrounded them.

  Real fear crossed the demon’s flawless face. “No–”

  The demon’s beautiful façade fell away, revealing the dark and twisted spirit within. Smoke seeped from its fingers, head, and body.

  “No, no, no!”

  Josiah crossed his arms and waited. There was no need to repeat the order.

  The demon’s face contorted, its eyes locking on Josiah. Hatred pulsated off it in waves. “You will pay for this! My friends will make you–”

  A flash, so blinding that Josiah turned his head, stopped the demon’s weak threat.

  Josiah turned back. No smoke, no demon. Just a slightly singed mark on the ground where the demon had once been.

  Where the demon had been sent, he didn’t know. Nor did he need to. It was one less to contend with today.

  Looking up at the black cloud above, he waited for more to come.

  None did.

  Yet.

  Undoubtedly, they had witnessed what had occurred and were waiting for a more opportune moment.

  So be it. The Lord would deal with them in due time.

  As for him, he still had a divine mission to complete.

  Where to, Lord?

  The answer settled into his soul. Rafe, Rush, Chloe, and the rest of the people with them. He was to guard them from the forces of darkness.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Rafe struggled to keep up with Cortez’s brisk pace.

  Chloe was heavy and her skinny friend didn’t have the muscle to carry much of her weight. It didn’t help that they were all wearing down.

  God, why couldn’t You have made this girl four and a half feet and seventy pounds rather than five and a half feet and closer to one-seventy?

  The open space between the prison and the lighthouse left them horribly exposed.

  At least he knew Rush had their backs.

  Cortez had almost reached the entrance to the lighthouse.

  He looked around. Still no sign of resistance. Shouldn’t there have been some b
y now? Surely not all the shooters had entered the back of the prison, had they?

  Cortez reached for the lighthouse door.

  It swung inward easily.

  Too easily. It should’ve been locked, shouldn’t it?

  Cortez led with his weapon as he entered the dim interior.

  Rafe held back and let Switch maneuver through the door first, then helped ease Chloe through.

  “Rush.”

  A voice, familiar yet foreign in this environment, came from behind him.

  He whipped around in time to see Rush doing the same, weapon aimed at the source of the voice.

  Josiah?

  What the…?

  How did he get here? What was he even doing here?

  Rush slowly lowered his gun.

  “You almost got yourself shot.” Irritation lined Rush’s words. “What the heck are you doing here?”

  A grimness he’d never witnessed before covered Josiah’s face. “The Lord sent me.”

  A loud crack echoed from inside the prison.

  Rush waved Josiah forward. “Inside. Now. You can explain it all there.”

  Josiah moved with a surety and steadiness that defied the situation they faced.

  Part of him was relieved Josiah was here. Why, he wasn’t sure, since Josiah was clearly not a fighter, but there was something calming about Josiah’s presence.

  If anyone could convince him it would all be okay, Josiah was that man.

  Rafe entered, still supporting Chloe’s weight, and looked around the tiny space.

  Most of the interior was taken up by stairs that circled the walls, spiraling up the tower. Not a single piece of furniture cluttered the small space, an area that was barely big enough for all of them.

  Clearly, the lighthouse keepers had lived somewhere else when this station had been manned.

  Rush followed Josiah inside, then closed the door behind them.

  Rather than locking the door, Rush’s hand dropped away. Zeroing in on the lock, Rafe could see why.

  The lock had been shot out.

  Rush looked around. Searching for something to block the door, maybe, but there was nothing.

  Brackets on the door and the wall next to the door evidenced that there had been a bar locking system installed at one point, but the bar was long gone.

  Light streamed in through several windows set high in the walls.

  While Cortez checked the darkness beneath the stairs, Rush fixed Josiah with a firm stare. “What are you doing here?”

  “The Lord sent me. To fight the enemy.”

  Cortez snorted. “Really. God sent a preacher to fight a battle? Could you ask him to send us some soldiers?”

  Josiah didn’t look offended in the least. “All the soldiers in the world are powerless against the forces at work here.”

  Cortez shook his head and muttered something too low to decipher.

  Not that Rafe really wanted to decipher it.

  What he wanted to decipher were Josiah’s cryptic words.

  Rush seemed to have cooled off slightly. “How did you get here?”

  “The ocean.” Josiah’s dark eyes shone in the dimly lit room. “But that’s not what’s important.”

  “Oh yeah? And what’s important?” Venom dripped off Cortez’s words. “You gonna go out there and convert that gun-toting mini-militia?”

  Josiah stared at Cortez for so long that the man squirmed. “This battle will be won by prayer. Not guns or numbers or military training. Prayer.”

  “I’ve been praying.” The words left Rafe’s mouth before he could stop them.

  Josiah grinned. “That’s good, my brother. Keep praying. Danger is all around us.”

  No fooling. He’d figured that out a while back.

  “Including above.” Josiah pointed at the stairs.

  Rafe’s mouth dried out.

  Above? As in, at the top of the lighthouse?

  He looked at the staircase winding its way up the wall.

  Rush whipped back to look at Josiah. “Are you saying there are men up there?”

  A solemn nod. “Two.”

  Cortez trained his weapon on Josiah. “And how do you know that?”

  “The Lord told me.”

  “Oh come on. You’re gonna have to do better–”

  “Put it down, Cortez.” Rush’s command made Cortez’s gun waver, but not drop. “This man’s on our side. I’d stake my life on it.”

  Cortez slowly lowered his weapon. “You just did. ‘Cause if you’re wrong, we’re all toast.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Rafe knew it in his heart.

  It was ludicrous to think that Josiah was in league with a group that would attack and kill people.

  While he couldn’t explain how Josiah got here or even what he hoped to accomplish, Rafe had no doubt that God had sent him.

  Rush looked toward the top of the lighthouse. “I’m going up. Cortez, you cover the door and make sure no one gets in.”

  Rush was going up there alone?

  “Rush, man, don’t you need back-up?” Rafe had no idea who that back-up would be, as he couldn’t exactly see Josiah wielding a weapon of death, but Rush couldn’t go it alone. “Gimme a piece. I can help.”

  Maybe. He’d never spent much time around guns and wasn’t exactly proficient with them.

  Rush shook his head. “Negative. It’s against protocol.”

  Forget protocol! All of this was against protocol!

  Rush gave him a tight smile. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay.”

  Not that he could possibly know that. Still, there was nothing Rafe could do.

  He nodded, watching as Rush quickly moved up the stairs that spiraled to the top of the tower.

  Josiah engulfed Rafe in a hug. “It’s good to see you, brother. I’d prayed God would keep you safe.”

  Yeah. And God had, too. “Man, it was close, homes. God tell you what we’re supposed to do next?”

  “Pray, my brother. That is the best thing you can do.”

  It felt horribly inadequate, but Rafe didn’t have any other options. He started to pray.

  For safety for all of them, deliverance from this armed gang, and that Rush wasn’t walking straight into a bullet.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Viktor watched as Oksana stepped into the old abandoned mess hall and surveyed the chaos in front of her.

  Ten of their men stood in strategic places around the room, while another three bled out on the floor.

  Two inmates and a guard were also among the dead.

  Two other guards nursed bleeding wounds. As did at least six inmates. That left two guards who appeared to be uninjured, as well as about thirty inmates.

  If she could convince those thirty men to turn, they’d have a decent work crew.

  And few people could convince men like his sister.

  One of his men moved through the room, collecting the guards’ discarded weapons.

  Viktor studied the men lined up against the wall. The wounded would be disposed of, that was a given. Of those who hadn’t been shot, at least half of them eyed his sister like she was the tastiest steak on the menu.

  His fingers twitched.

  When this was over, he’d relish putting a bullet in each one of them. But for now, they needed this group.

  “Listen up.” Her voice echoed off the cinderblock walls. “You have a choice. Help me and I will set you free. Or, you can rot in this place.”

  Silence. Some of the inmates looked at each other. Others looked at the guards.

  The guards glared. At her, at his men, at the inmates.

  One inmate, a chunky man with glasses, cleared his throat. “Help you do what?”

  What was wrong with that clown? She offered them freedom and he had the gall to ask what he’d be doing?

  No way would his sister let that stand.

  She leveled her gun and squeezed the trigger.

  The bullet caught him between the eyes. He slumped to the side.

&nb
sp; “Any other stupid questions?” The gun in her hands never wavered.

  A small smirk quirked Viktor’s lips. Funny how many of the men now looked at Oksana with fear or respect. “Question me and die. Cross me and die. Help me and live. It’s that simple.”

  An inmate slowly raised his hand. Another followed. Then another. As the seconds ticked into a minute, two-thirds of the men in the room volunteered.

  He did a quick count. Twenty men.

  Excellent. With this many men moving the crates, they’d finish in no time.

  Which was good, because he suspected that they didn’t have much time to spare.

  She turned and nodded at him.

  Lucky him. He got the privilege of leading their orange jump suit crew.

  Him!

  The one who had personally led every soldier in this room! Reduced to a meager prison warden, all because his high and mighty sister had to push into his world.

  Heat flashed through him. One of these days…

  Nikolas met his eyes, an understanding in them.

  If the day ever came to challenge his sister, at least he knew one man who would be on his side.

  He gave a small nod and Nikolas moved for the door.

  “Let’s go!” He gestured with his AK-74 rifle, swinging it toward the door.

  He needed to chill.

  If the men saw how agitated he was, he’d lose face. More than he’d already lost by being bossed around by his older sister.

  He flexed his fingers, trying to release the tension of his too-tense grip.

  The last prisoner passed him and he fell into step behind the man, who stood half a head taller than him.

  As he exited the room, Oksana’s voice issued the expected command. “Eliminate everyone else.”

  A cacophony of gunfire marked his departure.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Josiah’s sudden, unexpected appearance should be alarming. It should set all of his instincts screaming.

  Yet it didn’t.

  Rush took the stairs at a brisk clip, his attention riveted above his head. No sign of anyone up there yet, but that shot-out lock indicated that someone had busted in here.

  He hadn’t known Josiah long, but he trusted the man. If he thought Josiah would use it, he’d gladly give him a gun.