Face to Face with Giants
“And they became pregnant, and they bare great giants, whose height was three thousand ells: Who consumed all the acquisitions of men. And when men could no longer sustain them, the giants turned against them and devoured mankind.”
Book of Enoch, Section One 7:3,4
Locating the giants proved simpler than expected. Because of Mahli’s earlier detailed instructions, plus information gleaned from Peleg, Atarah knew the direction to go to find Tirza and the baby. As they started down the tunnel, Atarah snatched up one of the lit torches tucked into a wall-niche and Shua did the same.
That action proved a lifesaver once they left the lighted corridors leading from the community complex to the cave and plunged into the impenetrable darkness of the unlit underground. Even with torches illuminating their steps, they nearly missed the first staircase in the semi-darkness. Fortunately Atarah had decided to lightly drag her hand along the wall as they ran even though it slowed their progress a bit. As soon as she felt empty space she shone her flame that direction and saw the stairs. They descended without missing a beat.
At the bottom of the steps uncertainty set in. Mahli’s instructions were to always go right to get out of the underground, but Mahli hadn’t known Tirza would kidnap the baby. So they now traversed a different level than the one Mahli had described. All Atarah could do was hope the principle layout was the same throughout the complex and assume Tirza would be talking to the giants on that side of the mountain. Peleg had mentioned a fresh air vent which would mean Tirza was at an opening big enough to hand the baby out to the giants, but too small for the giants to enter the complex.
Atarah paused for a moment on the last step before squaring her shoulders and choosing to once again turn right – this time into a long corridor. The tunnel wound downward, and changed directions so often she soon completely lost her bearings. Worse, she heard nothing -- hadn’t heard battle sounds since leaving the cave. She assumed she’d find giants wherever the battle raged and, if Tirza was negotiating with giants, that’s where she would find Tirza. And Gadreel.
Time crept along. Seconds felt like hours. Panic began to build in Atarah. They should have reached the second flight of stairs by now. Atarah considered turning and retracing her steps. Fears that they were going too slowly and Tirza had already handed the baby over to the giants tormented her. She struggled to deaden her emotions and focus all her energy on finding the path. An impossible task. Every moment away from the baby tortured her.
Atarah concentrated on regulating her breathing and resisting the urge to run faster. She understood she couldn’t afford to be too out of breath when they found the baby. She pushed negative thoughts away and forced herself to think only of kissing the tip of Gadreel’s nose and puffing raspberries on his tummy until he giggled.
Eventually, it was the smell that led them to the giants.
The odor didn’t develop gradually the way Atarah had expected, but slammed into her suddenly as though swept in on a tidal wave. The stench like the smell of snake feces, a combination of human elimination and dead bodies, hit her full in the face and she stumbled backwards.
So did Shua. Both torches spluttered and then flared. Both women bent forward coughing and gagging. Evidentially they hadn’t missed a staircase. The tunnel itself had lowered them to the next level and taken them directly to the giants.
Every cell in Atarah’s body screamed to flee the suffocating odor, but she drew the neck of her tunic over her nose and pressed toward the stench rushing from an air tube which was waist high and just big enough to crawl through. When she reached the opening she could hear Tirza’s voice -- carried on the same wind that brought the odor. Even though she picked up the terrifying sounds of battle in the distance, joy leapt in her chest.
“Tirza’s still talking,” Atarah whispered over her shoulder. “That means she hasn’t given Gadreel to the giants.” Yet.
When her slave didn’t respond, Atarah glanced back. Shua crouched on the floor rocking, knees drawn to her chest, face ashen, eyes vacant. Atarah understood instantly that the smell had flung the slave back into the horrors of the giant attack on her village many years earlier, forcing her to once again relive those events.
“Move back! Away from the smell,” she hissed. Lost to reality, Shua continued to rock.
Atarah was powerless to help. Right now she had to save the baby. Wrapping several thicknesses of scarf around her nose and mouth, she dropped to her hands and knees and started the gently-angled upward crawl in the air tube. She breathed through her mouth, but instead of preventing her from smelling the putrid odor, she tasted it. Bile rose to her throat.
Before long, worried that her torch would divulge her presence to Tirza and the giants, she wedged her only light into a crack in the rock and continued without it. Darkness closed around her. A sense of malevolence far worse than the smell enveloped her. A dense wall of wickedness seemed to rise up before her, blocking her way. The wind grew stronger, driving her backward. The optimism she’d experienced at hearing Tirza dipped into thick black depression. She lay face down in the tube, unable to move, fighting to breathe.
What was going on? Was she imagining the wickedness? Was she simply afraid of the tight space? Could the smell be causing confusion? Or was the evil real? Despite what Mahli had said about Noah, Atarah suspected his God had helped her every time she called to him. In desperation, she whispered, “God of Noah, protect me from evil.”
The malice surrounding her seemed to shift. The wind still blustered. The stench still saturated the air. She still had to struggle to breathe. But the heaviness no longer pressed down on her. She could move again.
She edged forward until the tube widened, allowing a clear view of a small cave. Benches carved from rock lined both sides. Tirza stood at the far wall with one hand over her nose and mouth talking to a giant through an opening to the outside. The hole was slightly larger than the baby – just big enough for her to hand him through. But the giants couldn’t get in. Atarah guessed this place had been hollowed from the rock to protect the people of the underground in precisely this situation. Apparently Tirza didn’t plan to offer the giants an opportunity to accost her.
Further back in the cave, midway between Tirza and herself Gadreel cheerfully banged a rock on one of the benches, oblivious of the stifling smell. Safe for the moment. At the sight of the baby, and despite the chill of danger hanging in the air, instant relief warmed Atarah. Carefully emerging from the tube she stood in the shadows where her eyes could drink in every detail of Gadreel while remaining invisible.
From her position, she could observe two male giants through this opening clinging effortlessly, almost magically, to a narrow out-cropping of rock on the face of the smooth granite cliff. Tirza had lied about their size, possibly to calm Shua’s fears so she wouldn’t cause trouble, but more likely because Tirza had never seen the beasts in the flesh before. Approximately the size of the Nephilim, they held onto tiny outcroppings of slippery rock with six-fingered hands and bare six-toed feet, displaying the agility of gorillas. How had they gotten to that height? Leapt like toads?
Tirza stood well back from the opening. Apprehensive, but more relaxed than Atarah would have expected. She removed a hand from her nose and mouth long enough to speak a quickly, “He’s staying with me until you bring food.”
“Tell us how to get in.”
“No. Bring the grain right here.” Secure in a space the giants couldn’t access, her voice rang out confidently.
“Why do you want so much food?” The giant’s words flowed smoothly with the mesmerizing power of a Nephal.
Standing at a distance and knowing the baby was out of harms way for now, Atarah scrutinized the creatures. The giants only slightly resembled their Nephilim fathers. The angular features which were handsome on the Nephilim, were twisted almost imperceptibly on the giants, rendering the creatures grotesque. The furthest giant sported a long scraggly beard and what Atarah at first assumed was a multi-colored turban. Except that the turban lay across his head at an unusual angle. Atarah squinted to examine the head-dressing more closely only to realize with a shock that the turban was an enormous serpent coiled atop the giant’s head. She tensed, swallowing a gasp.
The closest giant, the one conversing with Tirza, was clean-shaven and nothing but unkempt soot-colored hair adorned his head. Festering sores held more appeal than either of these corrupted beings. Rotting potatoes exuded more charm. Carnivorous dragons ranked higher on the scale of innocence. It was as though all the evil the Nephilim managed to keep hidden in their souls visibly flaunted itself on their giant offspring.
When Tirza hesitated, confused, the smooth-chinned giant repeated the question with more force. “Why do you want us to bring you so much food?”
With each word the monster spoke Atarah felt intense evil like the thrusts of a poisoned sword stabbing into the cave. And yet, though she couldn’t explain why or how, she knew something held the evil at bay. Something that wouldn’t allow the wickedness to harm her.
“My people will go hungry if you don’t give us food,” Tirza replied.
“There are many more humans with you, aren’t there?” The giant wasn’t asking a question. He knew. “Show us the way in.”
Suddenly, the rumors about giants as cannibals rang true for Atarah. These evil creatures were the consummate monsters. Given the chance, they would eat the people of the underground as well as the people of the city.
“There are no more people here.” Tirza’s expression and posture revealed a different story.
A smirk quirked the corner of the giant’s mouth. “You can trust us.” The cunning spark of red in his lavender eyes belied his wheedling tone. The hairs on the back of Atarah’s neck lifted. The giants might be lousy actors, but the overt presence of evil was confusing Tirza. Atarah could see uncertainty in her eyes.
“We can’t deal without trust between us,” the giant continued.
“I do trust you.” Tirza’s voice faltered and Atarah caught a glimmer of fear. “It’s just . . . The space here is too small for you.”
Dropping all pretense, the giant roared. “The ash destroyed the crops. There is no food anywhere.” He moved nearer the hole and hatred like red fire flamed from his lavender eyes. “You think us stupid?” His sizzled with murderous scarlet.
Tirza shrank back and the giant resumed his position on the rock. A chill skittered down Atarah’s spine on spider legs. Gadreel crawled closer to Tirza and Atarah’s lungs compressed.
“You will supply our food.” His voice smoldered with fury. “You will hand over our young one.”
Tirza jutted out her chin. “Bring food and I’ll give you the youngster.”
“You can’t keep him from us.” Raucous laughter burst from the giants. “He belongs to us!”
The shout startled Atarah and she jumped. That movement caught Gadreel’s eye. Squealing with delight he crawled rapidly toward her.
Momentarily distracted, Tirza glanced back -- first at the baby then her eyes met Atarah’s. In that instant, the giant lunged. Shooting a long arm through the opening he yanked Tirza through quicker than a rattlesnake strike and tossed her over the side of the mountain. She didn’t have time to scream.
Atarah stood paralyzed with shock. One moment the woman was standing there. The next she was gone. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t fit through. But she did fit through -- like a snake sliding into a too-narrow crack in the rock.
Time stood still. She could see Gadreel’s upturned face at her feet while the face of evil watched through the opening. Matching faces. One huge, the other small. She struggled to breathe, to think.
Two small six-fingered hands gathered handfuls of her hem. Her vision cleared and the innocent face of the babe once again smiled up at her. She scooped him from the floor. He smelled of monster.
