An Angry Mob
“And in those days shall punishment come from the Lord of Spirits, and he will open all the chambers of waters which are above the heavens, and of the fountains which are beneath the earth.” Book of Enoch, Section Two 54:7
In three strides, Shem caught the woman around the waist and dragged her, screaming and flailing like a child throwing a tantrum, back to the elephant. He mounted Bavai with the woman in one smooth movement and gave the command to rise. The mob closed in. Loud curses and labored breathing roared in Shem’s ears and the foul body odors of unwashed men stung his nostrils. Shem heaved the woman, sidesaddle, onto the blanket in front of him just behind the elephant’s head.
The tip of a whip flicked Shem’s sandaled foot. Bavai trumpeted and bolted away from the mob without waiting for a command. The elephant’s rapid stride soon left the men behind, well out of whip range, but Shem noticed she now limped and he could see blood flowing from a deep slash down her left flank. Not even an elephant’s thick hide could withstand the sharp swords of evil men. How badly wounded was she? Shem’s heart constricted with fear and he realized again how much he loved this huge beast.
Oblivious to the elephant’s plight, the woman in front of Shem continued to fight and scream, her eyes wild with shock. Her panicked kicking threatened to topple them both over the side of the elephant.
Shem tightened his grip on the young mother. Should he slap her as he’d once seen Father slap a young Japheth? Father’s palm had instantly quelled the hysteria and returned the boy to his senses, but this was a grown woman. He couldn’t strike a woman.
“Stop fighting.” His words rasped directly into her ear between jagged breaths. Shem clutched her with one arm and held the rope with the opposite hand, somehow managing to keep the struggling woman aboard. He watched the men slowly drop away, still shouting threats. The murderous mob turned and rushed back toward the city. They’d soon locate animals that could transport them faster than the wounded elephant carried Shem and his passenger. What would Shem do when the mob overtook them? He had dropped his only weapon during the fray and had no way to defend his elephant or the woman. Not that a stick could do much against swords anyway.
“Please settle down.” With the crisis averted Shem’s voice was gentle. “It’s a long way down if you fall.”
Sitting sideways in front of Shem, the woman slumped against him. Her hysteria quieted to gasping body-shaking sobs.
“Thank you.” Shem relaxed a little, loosed his hold on her and turned his attention to the elephant.
Even though the men would be on them again soon, he signaled Bavai to slow so he could assess her condition. More than one weapon had left its mark on the elephant’s left flank; several long gashes dripped scarlet blood. A short quick step each time she shifted her forefeet revealed the location of the injured foot. Shem had no idea whether the mob inflicted the injuries while the elephant fought at the bronze statue or later when they caught up to Shem and Bavai on the road.
The elephant slowed even more, but Shem made no attempt to force her faster. She needed rest; she’d have to run again soon enough when the men caught up. Shem stroked her side and shook his head in amazement thinking of the way the beast had outrun the men, old and wounded though she was.
They limped down the road toward the meadow. Still no one followed. Shem adjusted himself and leaned over to examine Bavai’s right side. The woman, evidentially thinking she’d lost her balance, flung both arms around him and pressed her head into the hollow of his neck, her cheek against his chest. A thrill shivered through him unbidden.
Shem steadied his breathing and held the rope lightly, an arm on either side of the woman. Her cries quieted to light hiccupping whimpers and his heart twisted for her. The poor woman had just witnessed the gruesome murder of her beloved son. Of course she was hysterical. Obviously the mother loved the child and had done her best to save him.
He wondered how the woman at the sacrifice and the Nephal had gotten control of the young mother’s baby. Maybe the Nephal was the father and had made the choice to sacrifice the boy against the mother’s will. Shem shuddered. He’d heard often enough about the eerie sway Nephilim held over human women who, for some reason, were unable to resist the beautiful tall monsters.
Shem shook away the thought and tried to concentrate instead on how he might comfort the woman. The fragrance of her hair made his brain fuzzy.
At an unexpected noise, Shem cast a quick glance behind. Loosened by a recent earthquake, a boulder dropped from midway up the city’s cliff and tumbled to the base of the mountain, but Shem saw no people. He permitted himself a bit of cautious hope. If only Bavai could deliver them safely to the ark before the men showed up again.
A skunk waddled across the road in front of them. The young mother’s quiet moaning rose and fell in a strange undulating pattern that matched the elephant’s stride. Should Shem try to say something to comfort her? He had no idea what that might be.
“You all right?” he asked finally. Stupid question. Of course she wasn’t all right.
The head tucked under his chin jerked a nod of assent, but the sobs and groaning continued without interruption. Shem chided himself for noticing the soft curves of her body.
A pair of rust-colored okapi stirred the leaves of a low tree near the road ahead. Shem had never seen one of the animals before, but he recognized them from Father’s description. Short skin-covered horns poked from the head of one, evidentially the male. The rumps and front legs of both animals sported snazzy zebra-like stripes. As Shem watched, the male twitched one large ear and reached up to snag a purple fruit from the tree. The female rotated to gawk at Shem while she very deliberately licked an eyelid with her long black tongue.
At any other time, the spectacle would have elicited a belly laugh from Shem, but
faint shouts drifting down the mountain on the breeze immediately chilled the agreeable feeling. The okapi tensed. They’d heard, too. Reluctantly, Shem gave the command for Bavai to walk faster. The elephant immediately obeyed.
“No!” The woman sat straighter in his arms. “She’s injured.”
A new respect for the woman surged through Shem. In the midst of all her trouble she had taken note of his elephant’s pain. He wanted to explain that if Bavai didn’t hurry all three of them would soon be killed, but he had no breath for extraneous words so he said only, “The mob.”
The woman leaned out to look at the road behind then met Shem’s eyes. “I see them.” Even with sapphire eyes widened by terror and her face swollen and splotchy from crying, she was stunning.
Shem tore his eyes from her to appraise the approaching mob. The men appeared small in the distance, but riding swift camels and horses they’d catch the trio in no time unless Bavai traveled faster. Could she? He’d given her time to rest, but her wounds already bled harder with the renewed effort. Sorrow enveloped Shem like a dark cloud as he urged the elephant forward. Though he patted her back and spoke gentle words to her, he couldn’t shake the feeling he might be killing her.
The woman again dipped her head and pressed into him, weeping silently. The curses and shouts grew louder. By the time Bavai plowed into the grass at the edge of the meadow, Shem could clearly see the faces contorted with rage and hear every murderous threat.
“You’ll never escape me!” The frightening fellow with the serpent tattoo led the crowd on a sleek black stallion, shrieking threats at the woman. His robe flapped open and Shem could see the serpent tattoo continuing onto his chest where it entwined with other reptilian creatures engaged in unspeakably lewd actions with human women. An evil grin twisted the man’s face. “You belong to me now, Atarah!”
Shem felt the woman go slack and the arms clutching him flopped limply. He dropped the rope with his right hand and grabbed the unconscious woman around the waist to keep her from falling. Guiding the elephant with only his left hand while keeping both himself and the woman balanced, sapped Shem’s strength and made breathing difficult.
Or was he breathing rapidly because of the nearness of the woman?
Atarah. He allowed himself a moment for her name to flow through him.
Bavai’s gait slowed and her limp grew more pronounced. Shem snapped back to attention. In her uninjured youth, Bavai could have outpaced any horse. But today? The man on the black stallion was closing in and the rest of the men followed close behind.
The grasses thinned. The trio would exit the meadow and start up the trail to the ark in no time. Shem shouted for his faithful elephant to move faster, forcing his words past the regret and sadness lodged in his chest. She did as he asked, but her moans and labored movements broke his heart. The woman in his arms roused, enabling him to loosen his grip on her and concentrate on the elephant. But it was no use. Moments later, weakened by loss of blood and advancing age, the elephant slowed again.
Shem snapped out an order for Bavai to sit. “We have to get off before she collapses.” Shem explained to the woman making no effort to disguise the urgency in his voice.
Atarah nodded blankly.
Before Bavai could lower herself all the way to the ground, Shem flung one arm around the woman’s waist and grabbed her hand. “Jump!” He heaved her off with him.
They hit the ground running. Shem pulled the woman behind him, dragging her away from the men and toward his mountain. He knew every inch of this place. If they made it to the trees before their pursuers caught them, they could hide until dark. Once the mob called off the search, Shem would lead her safely to the ark.
They managed to get only a few strides past the elephant when, out of the corner of his eye, Shem saw several fluffy plumes of pink pampas grass suddenly begin to dance, and what he had assumed to be piles of gray ash between the grasses and a shallow pool of water, lifted and morphed into a pair of raging rhinos. The chance of outrunning men on horseback was slim. Outrunning rhinos would be impossible.
“God of Noah, help us,” she cried out.
Shem stepped between Atarah and danger, pushing her toward the line of trees. “Hide in the forest!” With his back to her, he squared his shoulders and planted his feet, prepared to protect his future wife against rhinos or men, whichever attacked first. Her prayer proved he had finally found the woman he’d searched for his entire life and he would not let her die -- even if he had to fight off rhinos and men with his bare hands.
Shem faced the approaching mob. The rhinos thundered toward him from the left. Directly in front of him, between Shem and the horsemen, so close he could smell the blood oozing from her wounds, Bavai rocked back and forth, valiantly struggling to rise to her feet. The rhinos would attack the elephant if they perceived her erratic movements a threat. He would not let that happen.
Without hesitating, Shem waved his arms and ran shouting past the elephant, on a collision course with both the men and the rhinos. At the sight of him, the rhinos unexpectedly changed course and ran directly toward the men, their massive bodies propelled on stubby legs at unimaginable speeds. The black stallion reared on its hind legs with a loud snort, nearly throwing its rider. The instant its front hooves touched the ground, the horse took off at a gallop. The remainder of the mob reacted with confusion, cursing and screaming as they fled. Shem’s last glimpse of them revealed horses, camels and armed men still en route to the city, chased by two rhinos that gave no indication of slowing.
Miraculous.
Shem shook his head, a bemused smile playing across his features. Not only had he found his wife, her prayer to the One True God had saved both their lives. He didn’t know much about her yet, but he knew with certainty that God had stirred the rhinos in answer to Atarah’s plea for help. He knew God had directed him to her.
Shem briefly examined Bavai and encouraged her to her feet, leading her toward the mountain where his beautiful future wife was hiding. Waiting for him. He shot a prayer of gratitude heavenward.
But several hours later, he still hadn’t located Atarah. And when night fell, with no hope of finding her in the darkness he was forced to head home without her. He’d convince his brothers to help him search at first light.
