Sunday, June 5, 2011

Chapter Seventeen

If this is your first time reading with us, go to the archives at right, click the second arrow and the title Chapter One will drop down. Double click on that chapter and read it first, then proceed with the remainder of the book in order by clicking down the arrows. 

Intruders
 © Jeannie St. John Taylor

“And now, the giants, who are produced from the spirits and flesh, shall be called evil spirits upon the earth, and on the earth shall be their dwelling. Evil spirits have proceeded from their bodies. Because they are born from men, and from the holy Watchers is their beginning and primal origin, they shall be evil spirits on earth, and evil spirits shall they be called.” Book of Enoch, Section One 15:8 – 10

“Stop!” a familiar voice hissed close to Atarah’s ear. “It’s me. Tirza!”
Still only half awake, Atarah ceased struggling and opened her eyes, momentarily uncertain whether Tirza offered help or a threat. Remembering the baby, Atarah’s eyes swept the bed beside her. Empty. She bolted upright, shoving aside Tirza’s hand, adrenaline pumping. “Where’s . . .”
“Shhh!” Tirza pressed a finger against her own lips and raised her eyebrows in warning. She nodded toward Shua who stood cradling the baby in the narrow space between the two hollowed-out stone beds of hay. His head rested contentedly on her shoulder. As soon as Tirza saw Atarah’s eyes light on the baby, she placed a hand on Atarah’s shoulder to get her attention and pivoted slowly to point toward the door.
That’s when Atarah heard the wheezing followed by a nasty laugh. Dagaar.
She leapt to her feet, panicked, but with a quick shake of the head Tirza warned her to silence then slid her eyes sideways toward the sleeping child.
Yes. Right. Atarah didn’t want to awaken Gadreel . Baby sounds, even happy ones, would attract her enemy’s attention. Atarah’s eyes raked the room for a hiding place. Nothing. The usual ones were useless here. The wooden table was too small to hide anyone. Dug into the rock wall, there was no space under or behind the beds, but . . .
Frantically, Atarah clawed at the hay. Perhaps they could burrow into the dried grass and keep Gadreel out of sight until Dagaar passed by. Tirza placed a restraining hand on Atarah’s arm and shook her head. With her mouth in a tight line, she crooked a finger and angled her head toward the door way. She wanted Atarah to go with her!
Reluctantly, Atarah stood. Tirza was right. Dagaar was too close. Atarah’s only hope consisted in distracting Dagaar before he found their sleeping quarters and the baby. He might chase her and overlook Gadreel. Glancing back to make certain Shua and the baby stayed safely in the room, Atarah strode past Tirza and out the door. Directly toward the voices. 
            Before Atarah got five steps, Tirza grabbed her arm and yanked her to the wall. Hard. Confused, Atarah rubbed the back of her head while she questioned the other woman with her eyes. With her hand firmly on Atarah’s shoulder and her back tightly against the wall, Tirza demonstrated what she expected, inching sideways toward the sound. Atarah imitated her movements.
The volume grew continually louder and the words more distinct while currents of fear swirled through Atarah. Her eyes darted about the wide space, peering into every shadowed corner and crevice, but she couldn’t locate the owner of the voice. The place appeared empty. How was that possible?
Tirza stopped and pointed upward. Atarah followed her gaze to a small hole in the ceiling. The voices came from there. Dagaar and his men were engaged in an argument on the floor directly above them.
“Fools!” Dagaar bellowed. The hole magnified his voice. Atarah suspected she could hear him if he whispered. “She is here and we will find her!” He launched into a tirade of filthy intimidations, giving Atarah the impression some of the men had threatened to give up and return home.
One of Dagaar’s cronies swore and called him a foul name. In the confused jumble of angry voices that followed, Atarah couldn’t make out words.
Finally, Dagaar shouted them down. As soon as everyone quieted, he switched from angry-forceful to slimy-conciliatory. “You can do whatever you wish with her after I’m finished.” Eager guffaws once again melded them into a unit. Someone spat.
Atarah shuddered and Tirza placed a reassuring hand on her arm.
“And then . . .” Dagaar oozed, driving the frenetic blood lust of his men. “we’ll smell fresh blood and burning baby-boy flesh.” Laughter burst through the hole.
Shivers crawled down Atarah’s arms and her fingernails bit into her palms.
“What’s this?” Another male voice interrupted the festivity.
Silence. Shuffling sounds filtered downward. “Someone deliberately drilled that.” Dagaar spoke softly. Atarah had been correct in her earlier guess about being able to hear whispers.
They’d spotted the hole.
“What’s it for?”
“Hey, look!” Another voice. Still whispering. There must be more men with Dagaar than Atarah had thought. “You can see all the way through. There’s another tunnel. Or maybe a room, I can’t tell for sure because I can’t see any walls.”
Atarah squeezed Tirza’s hand in silent thanks for her foresight in insisting they remain where they wouldn’t be spotted.
“We couldn’t see if there wasn’t a light burning down there.” Dagaar reasoned.
“I think she’s down there.” someone whispered.
Dagaar wheezed and Atarah knew he was laughing. “We’ve got her.” Atarah’s heart flipped.
“But what’s with the hole?” someone questioned.
Silence told Atarah they were puzzling out the riddle.
Dagaar cursed. “It’s for transmitting sound!” He whispered yet more quietly. “So that whoever built this place could hear enemies approach.” He swore again in a low voice. “They could be listening to us right now. Keep quiet while we find the way down. There’s got to be stairs or a tunnel.”
Atarah spun around without a word and lurched the short distance back down the corridor to Shua and the baby. Tirza stayed on her heels.
“Was that Dagaar?” Shua asked. Miraculously, the baby still slept.
Tirza stood between Atarah and the door.
Atarah nodded. “We have to leave. Now!” she whispered. “Dagaar and his men could be here any second!”
Tirza blocked the exit, her voice low and commanding. “No! You can’t go yet.”
            Angrily, Atarah whirled toward her with false bravado. “You can’t stop us!” She had no idea how they’d get past the stronger woman or what they would do afterward, but surely even weak from hunger the two of them together could fend off Tirza. They’d run blindly to escape Dagaar before. They could do it again.
            “I’m trying to help you.” Tirza hissed. “Do you want them to hear us?”            
Uncertainty wavered through Atarah’s sleep-deprived brain. Could she trust Tirza?

            The doubt must have shown on her face because Tirza said, “I know you’re wondering if you can trust me. Think . . . did I get you away from Peleg?”
“Yes.” The strange relationship Tirza shared with her father almost made Atarah feel grateful for her own father.
“Did I keep you from discovery out there?”
Atarah nodded.
“You don’t know where to go and I do. Plus, there are very few entrances to this place and our people already sealed them all off. The men who are after you can’t get in unless we open the doorways from the inside.” Irritation raised Tirza’s volume and she clapped her hand over her mouth and turned an ear toward the door, listening, before shaking her head with a sigh. She was obviously upset with herself for shouting.  “Well, you’re safe if we both keep quiet.”
“Why does noise matter,” Shua asked suspiciously, “if they can’t get to us here?”
 “You want to expose the location of my people to men who kill, rape and destroy?” Tirza rolled her eyes in disgust. “That’s gratitude. And you’re the ones who brought them here.”
“We didn’t bring . . .” Shua began.
Tirza interrupted. “Do you have any idea what those men will do if they hear us? They don’t sound like nice men.”
Atarah didn’t want to think about everything that could happen.
“If they hear voices they’ll eventually figure out someone lives here and find a way in. They’ll rape and pillage my home and you’ll be the ones responsible for harming people who helped you. Do you want that?”
The injustice of the accusation flashed hot in Atarah, but instead of going on the defensive she covered her anger and said, “I’m sorry. We appreciate all you’ve done for us.” No use antagonizing Tirza further. Atarah did not know if she trusted Tirza or not, hadn’t the woman just said the men couldn’t get down to them here? Was she lying or overreacting by worrying uselessly about her friends? At the moment her motives didn’t matter. Atarah needed her. She had worse things than Tirza to worry about. Like Peleg, Dagaar . . . she could go on. She resisted the urge to look at Shua who, she guessed, was thinking the same things.
“You’re tired and hungry.” Tirza smiled and gestured toward the table which held two loaves of bread and the bowl of curdled milk she’d brought earlier. “Eat while you can. The community is running low on food.”
Alarm must have registered on Atarah’s face because Tirza chuckled.
“It’s not that desperate, I said we were running low, not running out. We always have milk from the goats even if they have to eat our beds to stay alive, and tonight we go gathering. Everyone is required to help, so I’ll be back to get you later.”
“Gathering?” The possibility of returning to the temple to retrieve stored food drew a cold line of fear down Atarah’s back.
“Don’t worry, Peleg doesn’t go along. We glean from the fields and orchards outside after dark. We collect enough to keep us well fed without taking so much the owners of the fields notice. After tonight we may even have honey for the curdled milk. Someone scouted out a lion’s carcass with a honeycomb inside.” 
Tirza planned to show them the way out! Atarah’s heart soared. They could flee to safety. With every limb trembling, she sank onto the pile of grass where she’d slept the night before. She needed food.
“You eat first. I’ll hold Gadreel ,” Atarah held out her arms. The baby didn’t awaken when the slave transferred him. She wondered if he slept so much and so soundly because of a growth spurt. Atarah could see a difference in him just over the last few days.
Shua bit a large chunk from one loaf. “Delicious.”
“You have to be hungry.” Tirza’s mouth quirked into a grin. “Hoda made that and she’s a rotten cook. Peleg chose her for her looks.”
Was that an attempt at humor? Unwilling to offend, Atarah squeaked out a polite chuckle while Shua giggled.
“So how are your parents?” Atarah asked cautiously.
The baby whimpered and opened his eyes. Atarah swayed with him, grateful to look in his face rather than at Tirza.
“Peleg didn’t mention you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Chiding herself for her transparency, Atarah stood and bounced the baby on her hip. She picked up one of the loaves with her free hand and broke off a piece for Gadreel. “Want some bread?” she cooed.  He wriggled chubby fingers and broke into a sparsely-toothed grin. The dampness of the underground crimped his fine curls into frizz. Atarah didn’t bother to smooth it and, since Tirza had already mentioned his extra fingers, she made no attempt to hide them.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with Peleg right now.” Tirza leaned against the door jamb and rubbed her forehead. “He has other things on his mind -- rumors of giants headed this way.”
Shock ripped through Atarah.
“Giants?” A dark flush colored Shua’s cheeks.
“I know. Giants scare me, too, but we’re safe here.” Tirza turned to Atarah. “You should eat.”
“We can’t be safe from the giants!” Shua still suffered from nightmares of the giants from her youth even though the beasts had not come near the City of a Thousand Gods as long as she’d lived there.
Atarah set the baby on the floor and placed the bowl of curdled milk in front of him. She put a comforting arm around Shua.
 “I assume you noticed the size of the tunnel entrance when you came in here.” Tirza said. “It was barely big enough for you to squeeze through, right?”
“Right,” Shua answered.
Gadreel played in the slimy mush, dipping his fingers into the bowl before bringing them joyfully to his mouth. Soon he’d smeared his face with a thick coating of white.
“Could a giant make it through?”
“No?” Shua sounded doubtful but hopeful.
 “A giant in one of those would be like a buffalo stuffed into a fox’s hole.” Tirza strangled herself and stuck out her tongue. “They would have to fold in half to pass through even the highest part of most tunnels.”
Shua giggled.
Atarah understood Tirza’s statement as an exaggeration and appreciated her efforts to quell Shua’s fears. She broke a loaf in half and began to eat. Shua was right. The bread tasted and smelled delicious.
“The Nephilim have to duck heads when they walk through those corridors and the giants are much taller,” Tirza assured them.
 The bite of bread caught in Atarah’s throat. She bent forward coughing and choking. Tirza grabbed the baby while Shua slapped her on the back.
“The Nephilim know about this place?” Atarah finally choked out her question.
A quizzical expression furrowed Tirza’s brow. “Of course. They’re our gods. We can’t keep out our gods.”
Atarah’s knees wobbled. Zaquiel must know about this place.
“They fit through the small entrances?” Shua’s eyes met Atarah’s. She had obviously remembered Zaquiel, too.
“They don’t have to. We meet them inside the temples. Each temple has one entrance big enough for the Nephilim. We don’t know their location.”
“Temples? There’s more than one temple?” Zaquiel could show up anywhere at any time.
Shua pressed a fist to her mouth, visibly upset. “How often do they come?”
 “We have no idea. They just suddenly appear.” Tirza handed the baby back to Atarah. “We stay prepared. And when they arrive we drop everything and go meet their needs.”
The phrase “staying prepared” explained the fully stocked temple.
“When anyone arrives – Nephilim or human -- we keep track of every movement by listening through the warning holes. That’s how we knew your whereabouts.” Tirza inclined her head toward the door. “And that’s how I knew where those horrid men were.”
Atarah commenced eating again. Strength from the food was finally beginning to flow into her, clearing her thoughts. The way Tirza casually handed Gadreel back to her and willingly offered information eased several niggling concerns. For the first time, Atarah relaxed enough to notice the weariness-etched lines in Tirza’s face. Atarah found herself softening toward the woman. What had she suffered? With a father like Peleg, Atarah didn’t want to know.
“How long did you track us?” Atarah asked with feigned indifference.
“An entire day. Impressed?” Tirza smiled.
Atarah tried to remember how many days or weeks since they left home, but her mind blanked. However, if Peleg tracked them for one day only she and Shua had gone undetected for a good while. And that told her Tirza and her people must live deep in the underground.
“You were moving in circles a lot,” Tirza continued, “plus we keep lookouts. Peleg says there are at lease thirty levels wandering back and forth through the mountain. So we keep guards on duty day and night and when anyone gets too close we seal off all exits. You passed several.”
“Several guards?” Atarah licked the curdled milk off Gadreel ’s fingers and regarded Tirza curiously.
“Not guards. Exits. Entrances.” Tirza shrugged. “You wouldn’t have seen them because you didn’t know what to watch for. When you’re focused on the path it’s nearly impossible to see an extra boulder plugging a hole. Just looks like another rock against another wall.”
“We might have gotten here sooner if we’d gone down one of those corridors we discounted.”
“Not necessarily. A lot of the tunnels lead nowhere and some entrances are simple openings without tunnels leading to them. Easy to miss.” Tirza pushed away from the door and stretched. “You can stay with us for as long as you like. We don’t have much food left, but I’ll bring more bread later and the goats continue to give milk – even when we have to feed them our beds.” She chuckled.
“How can we ever thank you?” Atarah asked.
“You can thank us by helping gather food later. We have to bring in as much as we can before the giants get to it.” Tirza stooped to tweak the baby’s nose. “You’re such a big boy,” she cooed. “Yes you are.”
“No, he’s not!” Atarah shot off the words too quickly then bit her lip.
 A knowing smile appeared briefly in Tirza’s eyes. “I’ll be back.” She waved goodbye then poked her head back through the door. “Just stay put so Peleg doesn’t catch your scent.”
After few moments, Atarah ran after her. She caught up to her by the pool of water. “One more question.”
“Go ahead.” Tirza bent to drink from cupped hands.
“If you seal off all the exits when you hear intruders,” Atarah asked, “why didn’t you close off the one we came through?”
Tirza froze, her hands still brimming with water. After several moments she straightened. When she looked at Atarah, her eyes swam with pain. “Peleg wants the two of you.” 
A shiver of dread rippled from Atarah’s soul.