Jane Ann was thoughtful for a moment. "Strength? Are you saying that . . . because I'm the youngest of the ... survivors I am better able to endure the pain and humiliation of what lies just ahead of me? If so, I still do not understand why it has to be."

The mist that was Balon was steady, with no thrusting reply.

"All right. But tell me this, if you can: part of ... this does have something to do with sin-right or wrong?"

"In part."

"Whose sins?"

"Yours, mine ... others."

Her last question was asked softly, and it was filled with love. "Why do I get this feeling I am dying partly for you, Sam?"

The mist could not lie. It stirred, then projected: "Because you are."

Jane Ann smiled. "Then my dying will be so much easier."

"Let me tell you something, Janey. This does not have to be. You, Wade, Miles, Anita, Doris ... all are a.s.sured a place in Heaven."

"I know that, Sam Balon."

"Then ... ?"

"I love you."

WEDNESDAY NOON.

"Sam?" Nydia spoke from the rear of the short column, "How far are we from the main house?" "Five or six miles, I'd guess."

"You said we would encounter boundaries. Where are they?"

"Honey," there was an edge to his voice. "I don't know. We'll know them when we see them."

"I'm tired," Janet said. "And I'm hurting real bad." Linda looked at her, a strange light in her eyes. Then unexpected, she walked to the child's side and put her arms around her. Janet smiled up at her.

"We're all tired and edgy," Nydia said. "Let's take a short break, Sam."

But the rest was to be a very short one. Sam had just eased out of the straps of his heavy pack when he heard a sound to his left, slightly behind him. He tensed, thumbing the Thompson off safety. He spun, throwing himself to one side, coming up on one knee, the SMG leveled, on full auto.

What he saw numbed him momentarily.

A demon griffin, a winged horror that, until now, had been only a part of mythology. Its ugly head lowered, the creature charged Sam, howling as it came.

Sam pulled the trigger, a one second burst of heavy, .45 caliber slugs. The griffin screamed, humanlike, and fell to its knees, blood gushing out of the holes in its chest and throat. It kicked on the cold forest floor for a few seconds, then, with a terrible shrieking, it beat its wings and died.

"What in the name of G.o.d is that thing?" Sam asked.

Only one among them knew the answer to that, but she had no intention of explaining.

Nydia screamed, Sam whirling around. Rats had encircled the young girl, and Nydia was beating at them with a stick. Linda stood with her back to a tree, her face pale with terror. The rats, much larger and bolder than their earthbound cousins, seemingly had no fear of humans, and no interest in attacking anyone other than Janet. The child was kicking at them with her tennis shoes. One of the rodents leaped at her, yellow teeth snapping.

Sam slapped it to the ground and stomped on it with a heavy jump boot, smashing the guts from the devilish rodent. He looked up, and only then did he see the white slash on the bark of a tree about fifty yards from their rest stop.

Fifty yards behind them.

"Run!" Sam yelled, grabbing up his pack. "Get the weapons and the packs and run. Toward that big oak," he pointed. "Get past it."

Nydia grabbed Linda and shoved her into action literally forcing her to stop and pick up her pack and the shotgun she was carrying.

The rats pursued them to the slash-marked tree, but would not attack them once they had pa.s.sed the line. The rodents raced back into the forest.

Janet looked at the slash on the tree. Whatever, or whomever had marked the tree had done so with a mighty sword or knife, wielded with awesome power. "Those boundaries you people were talking about? I think we found them."

Sam lay on the ground sheet, his head resting on his pack. His thoughts were many. It was late afternoon, and turning colder. Already a few flakes of snow had fallen, and it felt as if it might start snowing in earnest at any moment. If that happened, he would have to build a fire and a lean-to. The lean-to didn't worry him, but a fire might bring some unwelcome visitors.

Why are they waiting? he mused. We are few and they are many, and with their powers, they must know where we are. Surely they can't be that afraid of me?

"Do not flatter yourself so, young warrior," the voice boomed into Sam's head. "It is I they fear."

"I wondered where you had gotten off to," Sam spoke, oblivious to the others looking at him, listening to the one-sided conversation.

"I have been busy. Now hear me, young one: you must be on guard, but you need not fear the evil forces as much as you believe. I will take care of those sp.a.w.ns of h.e.l.l. They will hara.s.s you, worry you, but they won't harm you-if you remain careful and maintain your faith."

"You mean, I can kill them, but they can't kill me, or us?"

"I didn't say that."

Sam sighed, an exasperating expulsion of breath, "Riddles again, huh?"

"Only if you believe they are riddles."

"Study your words, huh?"

"That is correct."

"Is it against the policy of ... Him for you to come right out and say things in an understandable fashion?"

"How like your father you are."

"You hedged the question."

"Correct. Young warrior," the voice held a slight note of puzzlement. "I have spoken to many mortals over these thousands of years, but you baffle me."

"How?"

"You aren't afraid of me."

"Why should I be? You're on my side, aren't you?"

And if that force that sits by the right hand of G.o.d, that force of all that is good and pure and just, could chuckle, it did. "Confidence is good, of course, all great warriors must possess it, but don't allow it to cloud your judgment."

"I don't intend to do that. But I will tell you this much: as soon as I get some sign from you, or the feeling is right-whatever-I'm goin' to Falcon House and kill every swinging di ... uh ... everybody in there."

Again, Sam got the impression the mighty voice was laughing.

"With the jawbone of an a.s.s?"

"Did that really happen?"

"In a manner of speaking, certainly."

Sam held up the Thompson. "I'll start with this ... no telling what I might end up with, though."

"Live a good, strong, healthy, productive life, offspring of Sam Balon. And when your time on earth is over, I will personally welcome you home."

"My time on earth could very well be short."

"That is entirely possible."

"Tell me something."

"If it is permitted."

"Am I really speaking with you? Are you Michael? And will I remember any of this-if I get out alive, that is?"

"You ask probing questions, young warrior. Inquiries I am forbidden to answer."

"I won't ask why."

"Wise of one so young."

"Instead I'll ask this: when do I start my mission?"

"You have wards to look after, lives in your care. A flock, if you will. But remember this: sometimes a wolf may disguise itself to enter the flock. And a cabin of evil may sometimes be turned into a fortress of truth. If you desire, you may begin whenever you are ready." The voice faded away.

"Sam?" Nydia said, watching the young man she loved get to his feet. "What are you going to do?"

"Start a war," he said quietly.

THURSDAY MORNING.

The weather had held for the good, and they rested and slept on ground sheets, in sleeping bags. Sam had talked long into the night with Nydia, with her asking all the voice had said.

"There is only one cabin on our land," she told him. "That I know of, and I think I would know of any others. That's several miles north of the house. Falcon had it built. It's quite cozy."

Sam glanced at the sun peeking through the tall timber. "If we head due west, we should hit the cabin. With any luck," he added.

"You think that's what the voice was saying?"

"Honey, I just don't know. I've studied his words, over and over. That's the only thing I can think of. As for that bit about a fortress of truth ... I don't know."

"Well ... I'm ready anytime you are," she said.

He grinned at her.

"No way," she said, verbally tossing cold water on him.

"Ever since we witnessed that ... display in the Heavens, Ralph, you've been moody. Out of sorts. What's the matter, honey?"

"You remember I went into town the next morning?"

"Yes."

"Well, I made some phone calls; I made about a dozen phone calls. Charged them on our credit card." He grinned ruefully. "Our phone bill next month should be a real doozie. I called four stargazers in America, one in Canada, the rest overseas and in South America." He looked at his wife. When he again spoke, his words were soft. "All that activity we watched: the sky changing colors, the plumes of dirty ... smoke-whatever it was; those odd, unexplainable occurrences ... everything. Betty, we were the only ones to have witnessed anything unusual that night. The only ones in ... this ... world!"

"That's impossible," she protested. "Ralph, it went on for more than an hour! Somebody, somewhere, has to have seen it."

He solemnly shook his head. "No one I spoke with. And I talked with the best people in the business."

"1 ... don't understand, Ralph. We certainly didn't dream what we witnessed. That was a heavenly phenomenon unequalled ... well, by anything I've ever seen or read of. I'm sorry the camera malfunctioned and we didn't get it."

"If the camera malfunctioned," he said. "Remember, the film I shot back at the observatory came out blank, as well.''

"The people you talked with ... could they be holding back? Deliberately holding back? Maybe to do a paper on the sightings?"

"I thought of that with the first two I spoke with," he admitted. "But a dozen people? No." He sighed. "So, that brings it right back to us."

She sat beside him, taking his hands in hers. "You weren't alone in seeing that ... sighting several days before this one."

"No."

"Why then and not last evening?"

Ralph was silent for a moment; reflective in his quiet musings. "Don't think me a fool for saying this, Betty, and rest a.s.sured you will be the only person to ever hear this from my lips, but ... all right, charge ahead and get it said.

"Betty ... we're Christians. Maybe not the best in the world, but we do try. We're believers, let's call it. So perhaps what I witnessed previously ... no, not perhaps-I know I saw the face of G.o.d. It was magnificent ... holy ... even though He appeared to be quarreling with ... somebody ... something. What we witnessed the other night ... well, have you given any thought to that being ... from the other world?"

"What other world, Ralph?"

"h.e.l.l."