Tori searched his eyes yet again for any hint of wickedness and deceit. But she saw nothing. Just an emptiness, a vacuum, which was weird. Shouldn’t she see the light of the Lord?Why can I not discern whether this man is good or evil, Lord?
“No, thank you, Aaron. We should start walking again and take advantage of this break in the storm.”
Yet no sooner did they all head out, than the storm picked up again, only this time, a strong wind beat on them, turning raindrops into pellets that struck them from all directions.
They slogged forward for almost an hour. In the distance, skyscrapers poked into the dark clouds. Atlanta. They were nearly there. Tori gestured to an old parking garage devoid of cars. “We can sleep there.”
Before she could even turn and head that way, an enormous roar bellowed across the sky, like the sound of an approaching train, agianttrain.
“God help us,” Thomas said from beside her.
She followed his gaze. A massive funnel cloud took up nearly the entire western horizon, spinning and churning, black and ominous—a furious monster sucking up everything in its path and spitting out the bones.
Shock held Tori in place.
It was exactly like her vision.
And they had nowhere to run and hide.
For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.
Ephesians 6:12
Chapter 21
Grabbing Tori’s arm, Thomas scanned their surroundings. Nothing but a parking garage, an office building with glass windows, a small dog park, a movie theater and a strip mall. He’d never faced a tornado before, but he knew none of those buildings would protect them from a direct hit. They needed somewhere below ground. Trouble was, there wasn’t anything.
His heart vaulted into his throat. The wind slammed him. He stumbled and nearly fell.
Tori was saying something, but he could no longer hear her.
The black funnel was heading straight for them. Fast. They could never outrun it.
A large piece of wood flew at them, and he shoved Tori down. It sped over their heads, just inches away. The others crouched behind them, clinging to each other. The wind pounded them from all directions. Thomas couldn’t move. It tore the breath from his lungs. He gasped for air. Debris struck them… slicing, bruising.
Was this to be their fate? After all they’d endured? If he was a praying man, he’d plead with this mean, vengeful God of theirs, but why would He listen to Thomas?
The roar was deafening now, so loud, it vibrated every cell in Thomas's body. He tried to search for a place to hide, but he could barely turn his head, barely see anything through the wind and rubble.
Were they inside the tornado? He could no longer see the funnel, only a thick blackness. A thousand knives sliced his body, making him feel like a sailor running the gauntlet for some offense.
Brianna screamed. He barely heard her above the noise, but the terror in her voice was unmistakable. Still, he could not move.
Tugging from his grip, Tori did the absolute last thing he expected—she shoved her body upward and lifted her arms to heaven. Bracing her feet apart, she struggled to remain upright against the buffeting wind. But how? He tried to join her but could barely lift his head.
She shouted something he could not make out.
???
“Yes!” Zarall pounded his fist in the air. “At last. She recognizes what the storm is!”
“Aye!” Arithem joined in his zeal and motioned the others to battle.
Onafiel, Anahel, and Tagas, weapons drawn, rushed forward, and together all five warrior angels charged the demons that caused the massive funnel cloud.
The vile beasts would not go down without a fight. Zarall flung his ax toward a particularly corpulent brute with beady red eyes. It struck with precision in the monster’s belly, releasing a sludge of greasy fat. Retrieving his ax, Zarall spun to find two hideous brutes rushing toward him, mouths open, hefting spiked clubs. Meeting the first one, he swept his ax down, chopping his club in half. Anahel struck the other one from behind with his mace.
Zarall nodded his thanks before taking on the next filthy hellion.
