Invisible Terror Collection Part 24

"Well, yeah." She shrugged. "I had a few questions."

"Such as, does it exist?"

"For starters, yeah. And if it does, why would a loving G.o.d send people there?"

Woods leaned against the counter and folded his arms. "First of all, let me be very clear about something, Rebecca. h.e.l.l does exist. It is very real, and it is very terrifying."

"But how can you be so sure? I know the Bible talks about it, but how can - "

"Because I was there."

Becka stopped cold. She could only stare. Before she could respond, she heard a m.u.f.f led pounding and banging. She threw a nervous look to the freezer drawers.

"Wh-what's that?"

"Did you leave the front door ajar?" Woods asked.

"No, it locked before I could catch it."

"Well," he turned and headed for the double gla.s.s doors at the other end. "It sounds like we have another visitor. I'll be right back." Before Becka could protest, he threw open the doors and bounded up the stairs.

Becka fought off another s.h.i.+ver. No way was she thrilled about being left alone in this room. She stole a glance at the body covered with the sheet, then turned back to the giant ice-box behind her. Come to think about it, maybe she wasn't all that alone after all. The thought gave her little comfort.

A minute later, Dr. Woods came back down the stairway.

Beside him was a very anxious and agitated Ryan.

Once Becka told Ryan that Dr. Woods knew Z and that he could be trusted, Ryan quickly explained what was happening at Julie's.

"You were right, we're not dealing with angels," he said.

"We're dealing with one of the bad guys. He's already got control of Julie. And Krissi and Philip, well, who knows what's going to happen to them."

Rebecca felt an unbearable heaviness in her chest. Those were her friends he was talking about. People she loved. She bit her lip and looked at the floor.

They were also people who would no longer listen.

"If we go now," Ryan continued, "maybe we can stop them before anything else happens."

She did not answer.

"Becka?"

Slowly, sadly, she looked up.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't answer.

"Beck, we've got to do something."

When she spoke, her voice was thick and husky. "I've been trying, Ryan. All week I've been trying."

"I know that, but together, maybe - "

She shook her head. "It won't work."

"So what are you saying? That we just sit here and do nothing?"

"Ryan ..." She tried to swallow, but there was a large lump in her throat. "Don't you get it? They don't want my help. They don't want anything to do with me."

Ryan stared at her.

Unable to hold his gaze, she looked back to the floor. "I'm sorry." She shook her head. "I'm ..." She trailed off, still shaking her head.

A long silence followed. Finally Dr. Woods coughed slightly and spoke. "I don't mean to intrude here, but perhaps I can be of some help."

They looked at him.

"Perhaps our meeting is more timely than either you or Z imagined. Rebecca, you said there was nothing to be done, and you may be right. Your friends may not listen to you. But to stop talking to them, to stop telling them the truth, well, maybe that's not your decision to make. Maybe they deserve as many chances as G.o.d decides to give them. As many chances as he gave me."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Woods drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Two years ago, my wife and daughters were killed in an automobile accident."

"That's terrible!"

He nodded. "I - I was driving." A moment of silence hung over them. Becka could tell the memories were hard on him, but he forced himself to continue. "Lisa ... she was a religious woman. You know, church, Bible studies, Sunday school, the whole nine yards. But I never had the time or, quite honestly, the inclination. I was too busy being a successful surgeon."

"You used to be a surgeon?" Ryan asked.

The man seemed to barely hear. "It was late and I was bone tired, but I insisted on getting home. There was some big confer-ence or something I was to speak at in the morning. I remember trying to keep my eyes open, and then ... suddenly there was the horn and the bright lights of the semi. I tried to swerve out of the way, but ..."

He grew silent.

Ryan and Becka exchanged looks.

Finally, he continued, "The next thing I knew, I was being sucked out of my body - as though I was fluid in a syringe. I remember looking for Lisa, for the girls, but they were nowhere to be found. I was falling. It was a deep pit, a hole that went on and on forever. I was terrified. I tried to scream, but I was too frightened. When I looked at the sides of the hole, the walls weren't made of dirt as I'd expected. They were made of people.

Living carca.s.ses. Human corpses. Thousands of them. They were all on fire. Their clothes, their bodies, their faces ..."

"So you were in h.e.l.l?" Ryan asked softly.

The man seemed too lost in memories to answer. He went on, "I remember trying to breathe, but the stench was suffocating. The smell of rotten eggs. I believe it was sulfur. Brimstone, they used to call it.

"After falling for what seemed like hours, I hit a lake, but it wasn't a lake of water. It was made of fire. It's hard to explain, but it wasn't wet. Only hot." He closed his eyes for a moment. "The heat was intense, searing. I was engulfed in it. Every inch of me was covered by flame. Every nerve of my body screamed out in agony, but there was no relief. I wanted to pa.s.s out, I wanted to die, but I couldn't.

"And then I saw them ... hideous ... thousands of them. Like giant, leathery gremlins with razor-sharp fangs and knifelike claws."

Again Ryan and Becka looked at each other. They'd seen such creatures. During their encounter in the mansion.

"They flew back and forth through the flames, urgently, as though they were coming and going on important missions.

Most of them paid little attention to me. Though a few would claw or take bites out of my burning flesh, as if for fun.

"It was then I noticed that the flames weren't just fire. They were also scenes. They were events from my life. Somehow, all of my past actions, even my thoughts, had been turned into flames and tongues of fire that burned and tortured me. Needless to say, they weren't pleasant memories. They were my failures. My sins. Every bad thing I'd ever done or thought was transformed into these relentless, burning flames. Times I had lied, cheated, hated; acts of unkindness and immorality. Everything was there.

And each memory became a scorching flame that seared and charred my remaining flesh.

"I screamed for help. I begged someone, anyone, to take away the pain. And then I heard a voice. It was the kindest, most loving voice I had ever heard. And its kindness made my agony all the more unbearable. 'I have taken your pain,' it said. 'I have endured all of this suffering for you, in your place.'

" 'Who are you?' I cried. And the response washed over me.

'I am the Lamb who was slain for your sins.' " He looked into Becka's eyes. "I knew who that was. Immediately. The voice went on to explain how he had offered to take my punishment - and I wouldn't let him. I cried out in pain and frustration. I asked him why he'd sent me to that place. And his answer ... it was so full of love. And so sad."

"What did he say?" Ryan asked.

"He told me, 'No, dear friend, I have not sent you. You have made this choice yourself. This is your decision. How desperately I wanted to save you from it. My desire for you to avoid this place was so great that I came to earth and suffered in your place. But you would not accept my offer.'

Becka saw tears in the man's eyes, and she felt her own eyes growing moist. Dr. Woods drew a deep breath and continued.

"I told him I didn't know, that no one had told me about him.

But he said he'd spoken to me many times, through my friends, through Lisa, even through my daughters. As I listened, I knew he was right. And then he said, 'But so far, you have refused my offer.' "

"So far?" Ryan echoed, and Dr. Woods smiled grimly.

"I grabbed on to that too. Believe me. When he said that, I cried out, 'Do I still have a chance? Are you giving me another chance?' His answer was the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. 'Yes,' he said, 'your time has not yet come.'

"When I asked about my children ... about Lisa, he a.s.sured me they were safe." His voice choked with emotion. "He said they were at his side, enjoying his love and goodness. And then he said, 'When it is your time, you may join them. But it must be your choice, your decision. Not mine. I love you. I want you to join us. But it is up to you.' "

Dr. Woods grew quiet. The three sat in absolute silence.

Finally Ryan cleared his throat and spoke. "And then?"

"And then I regained consciousness, in ICU, where I remained for nearly a month."

"The voice," Becka ventured, "was it ... ?" He nodded. "Yes, it was Jesus Christ."

"So there is a h.e.l.l," Ryan half whispered.

Dr. Woods nodded. "But it is not a place G.o.d sends us to.

It's a place we choose when we refuse him. Don't you see? That's why Christ died, to pay for our wrongs so we don't have to go there. To save us from ourselves, from the penalty we've earned through our sin."

"But when you died," Becka asked, "why did you go to h.e.l.l?

Aren't you supposed to be judged first?"

"Who said I died?" Woods shook his head. "My heart never stopped, they never had to revive me. The best I can figure is that I had a vision. But whatever it was, it was a gift from G.o.d, a warning about what was in store for me if I didn't turn to him."

He looked at Becka, his expression and voice earnest. "It was another chance, Rebecca. G.o.d gave me chance after chance, and when everything looked hopeless, he gave me yet another chance. He never stopped reaching out to me. Never. And if he never stops reaching out, how can we do any less? With our friends, our loved ones ... how can we do any less?" Tears filled Becka's eyes. "But - " her voice was barely above a whisper - "I'm not G.o.d."

Woods' voice was equally soft and filled with compa.s.sion.

"No, you're not. But you are his hands on earth, and you are his feet. As believers, we make up his body. Each one of us is a part of his body. Someone has to tell those who don't know him, Rebecca. It may mean more pain. It may mean more rejection.

But if you love your friends, what other choice do you have?" Becka stared at the floor. He was right.

"If you don't tell them," he continued gently, "who will?" The words rang in Becka's ears. They were the same words her mother had used. She looked up, tears streaming down her face. "What more can I say? What more can I do?" Dr. Woods shook his head. "I don't know, but it's late. And if Ryan's right, every minute counts."

Becka nodded and turned to Ryan.

There was moisture in his own eyes. "Come on." He reached for her hand. "We'd better go."

Becka nodded. Dr. Woods was right, there wasn't a minute to waste.

Chapter 10.

Becka looked at the clock on the dash of Ryan's Mustang - 6:00.

As Ryan sent his car speeding toward Julie's house, Becka knew they'd used up valuable time at the morgue, but it had been necessary. It had helped her find her second wind.

She was ready to try again. To reach out, regardless of the cost.

"Remember," Ryan asked, "before our showdown at the mansion, remember that section in Ephesians we read?" Becka grabbed his Bible and flipped through it. "You mean the different pieces of armor we're supposed to wear when fighting the devil?"

"Yeah, let's go down the list."

She found it. "Ephesians 6:14. Here we go: 'Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righ teous ness in place.' "

"Got it." Ryan nodded. "We're holding on to G.o.d's truth, and we're doing what G.o.d wants, right?"

"Right," she said. "We've got his approval." She continued reading: " 'And with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.' "

"We're definitely preaching the gospel," Ryan said.

Becka continued: " 'Take up the s.h.i.+eld of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.' Satan. "