Darkness Comes In Like A Flood

By Linda Nathan and Richard Nathan

They've just become Christians-and the battle explodes!

Plunged immediately after their baptism into a fiery spiritual storm, Loren and Eve Montcrest face the vicious assaults of the Arcane Institute and their Harmony society as its leaders pull out all stops in the battle to win back or destroy their old disciples. At the same time, the c

• Language: English
• Publisher: Little Tree Media, LLC
• Release date: Oct 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781735705910

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Darkness Comes In Like a Flood

A Novel

Logos Word Designs, LLC

P. O. Box 735

Maple Falls, WA 98266-0735

https://www.richardandlindanathan.com

© 2020 by Logos Word Designs, LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the authors’ imaginations or used in a fictitious manner to further the story. First edition.

Published by Little Tree Media, LLC

Book design and production by Little Tree Media, LLC

http://www.littletreemedia.com

Editing by Linda Nathan, Logos Word Designs, LLC

Cover design by Eric Nathan

ISBN: 978-1-7357059-0-3

ePub ISBN: 978-1-7357059-1-0

Kindle ISBN: 978-1-7357059-2-7

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020919767

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture references marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®, © 1973 1978 1984 2011 by Biblica, Inc.TM Used by permission.

All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotations from The Authorized (King James) Version. Rights in the Authorized Version in the United Kingdom are vested in the Crown. Reproduced by permission of the Crown’s patentee, Cambridge University Press.

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING…

In light of what we now see happening on the streets and in the political life of key states, this spellbinding novel provides hope in the face of a potentially scary future in America.

—Les Stobbe, Literary Agent, Author, Editor, Writing Coach, Ghostwriter

"Brilliant! Even better than book one! Prophetic.

A priest in hiding. A vengeful priestess.

A couple determined to share their revelation in a dark world. I was thrilled how the book started with so much conflict and made me keep flipping pages. I’m delighted to see Eve and Loren living out their new faith. I was captivated by this futuristic society in which Christians must hide in order to survive. Can’t wait for the next book. I am so glad to have discovered these books."

—Carol Alwood, Author

The Good Shadows Series

Can’t wait for the next book! It is more than just a fictional thriller. It touches the reality of the world we actually live in!

—Becky Copeland, Educator

A real page-turner as you continue with the characters from The Glittering Web, their first book. Eternal truth is revealed, and lies are exposed even for our day. Location and some actual history of the Pacific Northwest make it a fun and relevant read. Future technology used seems frighteningly possible. I recommend everyone who would like to be more prepared for future times to read this book.

—Jan Lovegren, Educator and Homemaker

A horrible book! The people who wrote this should be imprisoned. Burn it!

—Jasmine Crenford, High Priestess, Arcane Institute

Fake news! This book attacks Harmony! Don’t read it!

—Winston Pendergast

Minneapolis Metaphysician

This book must be destroyed and the authors re-educated!

—Lobsang Nan, Higher Master

The truth comes out at last!

—Alexander Renkin, aka Father Benign

Dynamite stuff! Don’t let them take this book from you!

—Loren and Eve Montcrest

When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the LORD shall lift up a standard against him. (Isaiah 59:19, KJV)

Chapter 1

DARKNESS COMES IN LIKE A FLOOD

Seattle, Washington

Evening, January 1, 2051

Lightning jagged across the Seattle night sky, bathing the glowing disk atop the Space Needle in a fiery display of raw power. To Loren’s eyes, it suddenly appeared as a demonic mother ship ready to haul them up against their wills, captives to an evil realm they had never really escaped. He jerked his eyes away, back to the I-5 corridor, his heart flipping in crazy bursts as the war flared up in his heart anew—the war between his newfound faith and the glittering web he had so recently renounced.

Next to him, Eve slept, her eyes closed, her breathing soft as their Smart Car wound through the hilly streets up Capitol Hill. The evening had darkened into night, and the lights of the vast metropolis were blinking on around them. Loren closed his eyes and struggled to recall the verses from Ephesians he had read to her with such confidence only a short time earlier.

Christ, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, all things under his feet.

His heartbeat steadied to the truth of those words, a reality capable of meeting whatever they might face.

As the car swung into their parking lot, another lightning flash illuminated an aging four-story Victorian mansion, its gingerbread turrets and cupolas veiled in shadows. The boom that followed shook Eve awake.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Are we here?

* * *

The enemy has taken them.

What? Who? Reginald Crenford set down his phone and stared at his wife.

Your precious couple.

What? You mean Loren—and—and Eve? The Dean’s face twisted into an emotion that seldom found its way there: shock. Nothing usually shocked the man—he’d seen everything, done most of it. But it was new in regard to Loren and Eve, his favorites at the Arcane Institute. Since the night he had first met them, he’d never doubted their commitment to the path. Willing the words to be untrue, he ignored the sneer in his wife’s tone. He was used to that.

What do you mean—taken?

You know what I mean. Taken. Come on, you— The word remained unsaid. Captured. Taken by that—that— Jasmine’s lips curled.

Are you sure? How? When? Did you just find out?

Of course, I’m sure.

Did Lobsang Nan tell you?

Yes. She made a tent of her fingers and rested her chin on it.

They stared at each other, and Reginald appraised the once beautiful face now set like steel, its aging skillfully concealed by makeup. He wondered how many years had passed since he had last thought of her as beautiful. Now he knew her too well.

Lobsang Nan says to do nothing.

Nothing? He half rose out of his chair.

For now. We need to discover the leak in Harmony. We’re to wait and see if they lead us to any other— She spit out the word. Christians.

He sank back into his chair. While she seemed set in stone, he wasn’t. His own heart was throbbing wildly, threatening to break down its walls. It can’t be.

But they will pay, she said with a tight smile. Of that, I am sure.

* * *

A wealthy Seattle tycoon had built the venerable old Victorian in the 1880s when turrets, fancy arches, and ornate balconies were in style. Once maintained with decorum and charm, the four-story wooden structure had in the past fifty years degenerated into its current scruffy state, and the formerly pristine paint was peeling and gray. Nevertheless, in the shabby chic neighborhood, it was still a queen.

And to Loren and Eve, it was home. A home they shared with eight other wandering souls in a variety of charming apartments into which the house had been split up forty years earlier. During their past year in the Arcane Institute, their housemates had accorded them the unofficial adulation due spiritual elites elevated far above mere mortals.

A position that just recently, in one moment of divine revelation, had radically changed for all eternity.

The car hummed to a stop in the parking lot, and they turned and looked at each other. Strobe lights blazing from the living room bathed their faces in frenzied colors revealing a party was going on inside.

They sat still, ignoring the occasional lightning jags, the blasts of thunder, and the raindrops pounding the windshield, watching the bodies inside gyrating to music neither of them could hear but knew well.

Is there something going on we’ve forgotten tonight, Loren? Eve peered out the wet window, chewing on her lower lip. Unspoken in her words were, and how do we avoid them? It had never been a problem before—a few hearty hellos, some bad jokes, maybe some weed. They would all laugh and laugh until they became hysterical.

Oh, no, he murmured. Tell me I’m wrong.

What? She looked at him, his face flashing colors in the lights.

Well, it’s the first of the month, right? And it’s the new year too, so it’s special.

They both were quiet, considering the implications. The renters had all agreed to celebrate every month what each was doing to improve the world. They dressed as their ideal personas aided by liberal amounts of psychedelics. Loren, of course, had always worn his wizard’s costume.

Tonight though would be different. How different they could not yet imagine, but each knew in their heart that there was no going back. It was how to go forward they didn’t know. And it was obvious this was their first hurdle.

Reaching across the darkened car, they grasped each other’s hands and prayed.

* * *

Reginald Crenford steadied his shaking hands by reaching for his pipe, and in a slow, leisurely manner that masked his inner distress, he packed it with his favorite tobacco and slowly lit it. He stared for a while into the flames of the fireplace where they sat. Then he looked over at Jasmine, her perfect, sculpted body and hair, the proud bearing as she moved on to manage other Institute matters on her cellphone, her overly long, red fingernails clicking over the device. And he puffed and exhaled. To his surprise, he found himself contemplating his marriage and his life with this woman. He had thought there was nothing left in him for her to shock, but he was wrong.

The illustrious Dean of the Arcane Institute had spent years polishing and refining his sophisticated cosmopolitan manner, years putting out fires others couldn’t control, and always being the one in control—though Jasmine might have told him differently.

But now, as he gripped his pipe, a force was ripping through him that seemed to be controlling him—an emotion so strong it was forcing its way out of the depths of his heart where he had kept it firmly bound and uncoiling with the strength of a locomotive. The fury he felt at Loren and Eve’s defection, wedded with the pain of his loveless marriage and the grief of never having had children of his own, was threatening all restraint and rational thought.

Beads of sweat broke out on his broad forehead, and his round pink face that had disarmed so many until they had realized their mistake too late grew red and hot. Helplessly, he felt the control he’d taken for granted all these years crumble and disintegrate, releasing waves of unlived desires.

Although he was certain by now that Jasmine was incapable of love, he had not been, and whereas hers was a heart of stone that he doubted had ever breathed a sigh of tenderness, his own had slowly died from the withering coldness. Yet, not entirely died, he thought with some surprise at the power of his churning emotions.

I think it was the bottles in the basement that did it. He took another deep puff and exhaled the fragrant smoke into the room.

The ones with the abortion parts in them.

For experiments, she’d said though he’d never asked what kinds of experiments nor, if he’d been honest with himself, did he ever want to know for though infanticide was legal worldwide, he had a soft spot for children. Then they had come along, and in his heart, and despite his outer sophistication and gruffness, and despite himself, he’d adopted Loren and Eve in his heart as his own children. He’d covered it up as best he could, but he knew that she knew and despised him for it. A dead weight settled over that last tiny flame of life rising in his heart, and he snuffed out his pipe and rose.

I think I’ll find out for myself.

* * *

Hey, there they are, somebody yelled. The music dropped a notch, and the pulsating purple-pink-yellow-red-orange-green-gold strobe lights quickened into a mad, throbbing, psychedelic merry-go-round. Cheers rang out in the manic atmosphere as Loren and Eve stepped through the front door, their faces frozen masks.

Thought you’d miss all the fun, man. Juan Patana leaned against the fireplace, dressed in a wolf’s costume. He lifted one eyebrow and flicked a few ashes from a joint into the grate.

From the couch where he lay, Scott Terrill watched them through hooded eyes, his lips a cynical curve. One hand drooped over the edge holding a syringe. He waved it at them.

Darleen Terrill rushed over to Eve, her eyes glittering with feverish excitement. Eve stepped back without thinking, remembering that Darleen was on DMT therapy. The Spirit Molecule was one of the most potent psychedelics, and from what she’d read, DMT supposedly could induce out-of-body experiences, hallucinations, and alien abductions. It was all the rage in the therapy community, and surely, she thought, wouldn’t Darleen’s psychoguru know best? But a quiver of fear snaked up her spine at the wild look in Darleen’s eyes anyway.

Oh, I hoped that was you coming in, Darleen gushed amid the chaos. We’re just getting started. How do you like my costume? She giggled and flung a few rose petals into the air, then whirled around, displaying pink tights and a cape of artificial roses.

Uh—very pretty, Eve began. What—

Don’t you remember? I give away flower garlands in the park on Fridays.

Of course. Eve’s heart filled her throat, and she reached out and hugged her. My friend. She loved Darleen.

Did you forget about tonight?

Yeah, we forgot, Loren said, leaning against the doorway, his face a bedlam of flashing colored lights. But, uh, look, we’re exhausted tonight, so—

Darleen’s eyes hooded over for a second, then she smiled. Oh sure, yeah. You guys’ve been gone all day. Been doing something exciting? The look that flashed through her eyes gave a louder voice than any words to the quiet desperation of her life that she worked so carefully to conceal.

Someone finally turned the music down though the lights continued, and all eyes in the room seemed to turn toward Loren and Eve. Eve noticed the new renters, Sheila Franke, the art therapist, and her partner Betty, bathed in strobing yellow stars, watching them. The strong strawberry incense was making her eyes water, and she rubbed them. More voices were coming from the community kitchen. It sounded like a fight, and she heard the clattering of dishes.

Uh— Eve shrank before the onslaught. Well, it was okay. Look, Dar, I’ve—I’ve got a headache, she lied weakly, wiping her hand across her forehead and striving to convey an impression of weariness. She immediately felt chagrined to realize how easily she had just lied, but feeling almost paralyzed with fear and panic, she said nothing.

Next to her, Loren mumbled, Sorry, guys. Maybe some other night, surprising Eve by the casual implication that nothing had changed between them all. He took her arm, nudging her toward the stairway.

Shamed and paralyzed by their cowardliness, her heart racing, hardly able to breathe, Eve felt the sweat break out on her forehead, and she clenched her bag with damp palms. She knew the time was coming when they would have to stand in their new selves, but tonight was not one of them.

They waved and fled upstairs to their apartment.

* * *

Loren walked to the French doors onto the balcony, opened them, and inhaled cool draughts of damp night air. The sounds of the dripping rain heightened the sense of loneliness and isolation he felt, cut off from the world he had once taken for granted as the real one, a world that had once given him meaning and purpose—a world that had once promised him godhood itself. He stared down into the dark street that ran between their house and Volunteer Park, gloomy and full of shadows in the stormy night, and shivered. The other people in the house now seemed like aliens in another universe. Their ways were different. Their language was different. Would they ever be friends? Could they?

What other terrible surprises lay in store?

In the distance, jagged shards of lightning lit up the sky over Seattle, and thunder rolled. Then the lights in their apartment flickered and went out. Oh great. No power. He closed the French doors with a sigh and made his way in the dark to his study area, where he found a few emergency flashlights, placed them on the table, and lit them. Then he turned to Eve. She hadn’t seemed to notice the lights going out and was still staring at the cold fireplace.

It’ll be okay. He longed to comfort her, but the fear swallowed his words as he spoke. He knew as well as she that one didn’t just leave the Arcane Institute. They had made vows, been warned. Entered the deeper mysteries. So why isn’t something happening to us? Surely, they know. Surely, Lobsang Nan, the demon that ruled the Institute, knew what was happening. Who knew what it was planning for them? Loren had stopped thinking of Lobsang Nan as he. For now, he knew he was an it. A very demonic it. Whereas before he had bought into the prevailing wisdom that evil wasn’t real, its reality was now a burning truth in his soul.

Loren rubbed his shoulders, which ached from tension. Maybe they are doing something, and we just don’t know what. A chill squirmed up his spine until the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, but he resisted the urge to run. Run where? He lit another flashlight, then sank next to Eve on the couch and put his arm around her. Reaching under the cushions, he pulled out Alexander’s Bible, the grain rubbed smooth by years of the old man’s love of it, and opened it.

* * *

Eve groaned and gripped her head. Though downstairs she’d lied about having a headache, one now raged. For an instant, she wondered if it was karma. No—that was false. How were they going to live these new lives? The questions piled up inside her. Could they stay here? Where were the Crenfords? Would the demons leave them alone? Where was that sense of promise? What should they do next?

Then she remembered the miracles—the miracles that had brought them to this point, like the hand of a loving friend guiding them step by step. The rescue from the game that was no game, her cancer healing, the promise of a child, the new love blossoming between her and Loren—and that Presence, that holy, glorious Presence she sensed at times, a glory of love and a purifying fire. She snuggled a little under Loren’s arm and closed her eyes. Next to Eve, Loren began reading, his voice low with a hint of a tremble in it.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth gives way,

Though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam,

though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy habitation of the Most High.

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;

God will help her when morning dawns.

The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;

he utters his voice, the earth melts.

The

Lord

of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come, behold the works of the

Lord

,

how he has brought desolations on the earth.

He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;

he burns the chariots with fire.

"Be still, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth."

The

Lord

of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah.

(Psalm 46:1–11)

He closed the Bible, and they sat in silence. Eve reached for Loren’s hands and began to stroke them, warm hands she realized she loved. She caressed them and held them against her heart.

Together they sat in the dim light, bowing their heads in silent accord, waiting on that holy and glorious Presence.

In the distance, the sky crackled with sheets of menace, and thunder boomed again.

A violent wind suddenly struck the old house, shaking the French doors and the windows in their wooden casements until they rattled like teeth, and a drenching rain poured down, the harbinger of a worsening storm.

Darkness came roaring in like a flood.

Chapter 2

THE LETTER

Alexander Renkin stared at his hands. They were old hands, gnarled and wrinkled, but still firm, tough even. In their younger years, they had seen construction work and carpentry, changed diapers for a son now dead, and caressed a wife later claimed by a terrible accident. They had written books full of falsehood and petted his cat, Boniface. And just yesterday they had rested on the heads of two secret converts he’d baptized into Christ. Now they picked up a pen and a piece of paper and began writing.

My dear new friends in Christ,

I know you don’t realize the mortal danger we’re all facing, nor understand how pervasive is the monitoring of the population and all communication, so this letter will be a quick but very incomplete course.

Although I know you think my letter writing is overwrought drama, it was a good enough method for the Apostle Paul, and it will keep us safe for now from all electronic surveillance. Please burn it after you’re read it.

I emphasize this: please burn it after you read it.

For some years, this world has become transformed into an enormous surveillance grid monitored by the big tech giants cooperating with earth’s governments and powered by false religion. It’s the only way they can maintain this close-knit, physical and spiritual system of global control known as Harmony.

He paused and glanced around his office, then rose and drew the drapes, blocking out the drones and satellites. He sat down again and continued writing.

Even if you get rid of all of your electronic devices, they are still tracking you through the satellites and the network of multiple surveillance devices. These include the public facial recognition cameras and voice recorders, the mobile backscatter vans, the aerial drones, and other methods that continuously feed data about us to the authorities. Furthermore, once your friends and neighbors learn of your conversion, they will use the Harmony Unifier app to track and report you.

He sighed, wiped his forehead, and picked up the pen again.

Be aware that they follow everything you do with your phones, from calls to friends to