A Dark and Present Danger: The Purple Wombat Series

1

February

4am

Atlanta GA.

H E BOLTED STRAIGHT UP SWEATING profusely…..breathing deeply… mind racing …heart fluttering…hands trembling. Was it a dream? It was more than a dream, it was a warning! An hour passed, yet he still wasn’t sure what it all meant. There were beasts he didn’t recognize; they were part human, part animal, part something else, they were everywhere. These things were going about doing daily tasks as if they were normal human beings. People he knew, family members, friends and colleagues were interacting with these things as if they were normal rather than abnormal. It was as if no one noticed that they were malformed and hideous. Something else puzzled him; he distinctly remembered thinking, asking a question to an unknown party, How can this be? A voice answered, It has always been. Full consciousness set in along with a knowing deep in his gut that that was no ordinary dream. Carmichael was afraid to close his eyes and go back to sleep. He has been having strange dreams for quite a while. He found these images from his dreams drifting into his mind while he was working in the lab. They had become a distraction. As he laid there he began to drift off again. Each time he drifted he realized he was going back to sleep and he would flash his eyes open fighting sleep. The last time he looked at the clock it was it was 5:07 am. He was so tired he could no longer fight sleep; it was as if someone had placed weights on his eyelids. He closed his eyes and saw other creatures; this time he could identify what they looked like. There were four of them and they were identical and they each had four identical faces, one was of a man, one of a lion, one of an ox and one of an eagle. These creatures moved together like a military squadron; all four moved as one. They began to seek and devour the other beasts. When he awakened he actually felt relieved instead of frightened. Carmichael decided to write down as much as he could remember about all the things he been dreaming.

Dr. Carmichael Willingham III is the Director of Willingham Laboratories. Willingham Biochemical Laboratories is the largest privately owned laboratory in the United States. His grandfather, the family called him the Ole Man, was trained as a doctor; however he could never get the medicine needed for his patients during the depression era. The Ole Man was forced to fall back on what his parents taught him about plants in the marshlands of southern Florida. His great grandfather, Hannibal married Mattie Hillishagee; her given name was Night Bird. Mattie’s parents were Seminole Indians. At that time marrying outside the race was looked down upon. The community accepted the marriage simply because he was the only doctor in the district. Everyone benefited from the union because Mattie taught the doctor all she learned from her mother and grandmother concerning herbal remedies. This information was handed down from generation to generation as if it was secret knowledge. Each generation was responsible for adding formulas. The formulas were always referred to as recipes if someone outside the family was in ear shot. Hannibal insisted that one day his heirs would become rich from the recipes.

When Carmichael got to the lab later that morning, his personal assistant, who he lovingly refers to as his girl-Friday, met him at the door. Virginia Snowden was patiently waiting for him to come in. Their offices are set up so that no one could get to him without going through her. She was also a brilliant research assistant. Good morning! He tried to match her in cheerfulness, good morning, but she wasn’t fooled she knew him well. What’s wrong Mike, you had another one of those visions. He rolled his eyes and just walked passed her. Later she came into his office with a peace offering and closed the door. She handed him a fresh cup of his favorite coffee. Mike, I apologize if I offended you. Mike wasn’t offended he was tired of the whole thing. He told Virginia, I’m not upset with you, I just need to get some sleep; this has been going on for months.

Maybe God is trying to tell you something, Virginia stated on her way out the door closing it behind her. He thought, It never occurred to me that God was trying to tell me something. Haniel and Asural looked at each other smiled and nodded. Like a flash; they were gone!

2

February

6:20 pm

Memphis, TN.

D EBRA PALMER WAS EXHAUSTED AFTER a long day on Capitol Hill lobbying against a Genetic Engineering Bill that would soon go before Congress. It was a beautiful day, crisp but clear weather. As cold as it was, she was glad to leave the halls of Congress.

Debra wasn’t happy about the long security lines at Ronald Reagan National Airport. Luckily a church member affiliated with Greater Holy Metropolitan Church of Washington was a supervisor with TSA and ushered her through an express line. The TSA supervisor knew that she was an attorney for GHMC churches and figured she was in Washington on church business. GHMC has congregations in Atlanta, DC, Chicago, Compton and Memphis; Memphis is headquarters. Greater Holy Metropolitan Churches are the largest and most powerful group of churches in the United States boasting over a half a million active members and more than a quarter of a million more members on role.

When she arrived at the gate they had already started boarding the aircraft headed for Memphis. Debra was glad to be going home to her family. Kenny was at home with the kids. She was so grateful that God favored her with a man like Kenny. Kenny worked from home developing software for clients. He was always available for the kids when they arrived home from school.

As she took her seat she immediately began to decompress, she started thinking about the goodness of God. The more she focused on God the less she thought about genetic tampering or Senator Wright, the Bills’ largest advocate. She began to offer thanksgiving and praise in her mind. As the DC9 reached cruising altitude she began to drift into a restful sleep. She heard the captain say that they had run into unexpected turbulence due to a storm front coming in from the East and for passengers to return to their seats and buckle up. She didn’t respond because she was already strapped in. She continued to sleep. Debra was an intercessor she had learned to pray in her sleep, she had literally learned to pray without ceasing.

She heard the voice of the Lord say, Debra look out the window and tell me what you see. She let up the shade and she saw a huge cloud that looked like an angry face, the eyes were squinting, nostrils flaring, with a wide angry turned up mouth. She said, Lord what is that? He said, Nergal, the Babylonian god of storms, misfortune, bloodshed and war. He likes the thrill of the chase. Debra asked, Why are you showing me this? He answered, This is who you are coming against, and you must resist, rebuke and bind him so that his plans will not succeed against the saints. As she obeyed God, I saw Krino stand sword drawn ready for battle. Stratia and Esh saw the Captain of the Lord assume a war stance; they took their positions with swords drawn. Their swords were as large as seven story buildings, gleaming, like lightning, humming and vibrating with pure energy. Stratia was on the right wing of the DC9 and Esh on the left wing, waiting for an order. Torah the largest of them all was standing on top of the cockpit ready for battle. When Nergal saw them he advised Sutekh and his troops to stand down. There was unexpected prayer cover that they could not overcome.

The spirit of hyperactivity thought he had caught Debra nodding and alerted his captain. The Prince of D. C. and the Prince of Memphis were assigned to bring her down. They had assigned the spirits of Hyperactivity, Malice, Sadness and Orion against her. Hyperactivity didn’t notice Juris holding her in his arms; he had concealed himself from the malevolent spirits.

As Debra continued to pray she completely awakened and went into combat mode. She served in the United States Marines for twenty years. She was no stranger to war, natural or spiritual. She understood that she was still at war. This is why she agreed to go to Washington she knew that the enemy was trying to establish his own army of soulless creatures. The turbulence had begun to subside, she was still watching Nergal. She saw him retreat so quickly it was as if a huge invisible vacuum had sucked him up like dirt.

There were a lot of nervous passengers on the plane. That was more turbulence than she had ever experienced while on a commercial flight, the oxygen bags dropped down from the ceiling. Blood began to drain from the flight attendants’ faces as they scrambled to their seats. Passengers were screaming, some chanting, some praying, others didn’t know how to pray they just kept repeating Oh God, Oh Lord! Then there were the fat cats, the movers and shakers sitting in first class, they were sweating and cussing.

After everything returned to normal she looked at the man sitting across from her and decided this was an excellent opportunity to witness to the lost. He was cussing louder than anyone else, his face was red as a beet, and he was still trembling. The first thing he is going to ask for is a drink when the flight attendants get back on their post. She was right he asked for a shot of Hennessey. Juris chuckled and shook his head.

3

February

11:30 am

Memphis, TN.

P ASTOR W. RONAN JOHNSON WAS sitting in his well-appointed office pondering the last nine months of his life. Pastor Johnson was just returning from a long overdue sabbatical. The last nine months of his life was more than traumatic; it was more than the average man would have been able to bear. His wife and children were killed in an automobile accident on interstate 240 during a thunderstorm in May. Connie was his high school sweetheart and his first and only love; they married the summer after graduation. The twins were seven years old at the time of the accident. After the death of his wife and children he took a month off to rest and to heal. He returned to his pastoral duties in July. His grandmother suffered a stroke three months later. His grandfather passed before he was born; before he met Connie it was just Ronan and his grandmother. Ronan was raised by his grandmother Mrs. Linda, after his parents died. The Johnsons died in a house fire when he was nine years old. Since his father was an only child, Mother Linda was the best and most obvious choice to raise him. His grandmother is well loved and respected for her devotion to righteousness, she also is on the Mother Board at GHMC of Memphis, where Pastor Johnson officiates.

The Apostle to GHMC Churches encouraged him to take some additional time off and tend to his grandmother. He was under tremendous conflict; he was torn between his obligations to the congregation and those to his grandmother. He tried to manage both; however his love and devotion to his grandmother was paramount to his love for his congregation. Since Mother Linda was the only mother he knew, he honored her. His love for his grandmother was that of a mother, mentor and a best friend, amplified. It was pressed down, shaken and held together by a deep and profound trust. This type of love and respect only comes from a deep reverence of strength and fortitude. They came through many difficult and painful situations together. Now here they are back where they began thirty-three years ago; just the two of them.

Mother Linda lived with Ronan and Connie; she moved in with them a month before the twins were born so she could help Connie with the boys. They had a mother in-law wing added to their home while the house was still under construction. Mother Linda was insistent on not being a burden to them. If they didn’t have those boys she never would have moved in with them.

He was sitting at his desk musing how strongly she protested coming to live with them when it was just he and Connie. Ronan, it isn’t good for two grown women to be living under one roof. He laughed out loud just thinking about the how Mrs. Linda could say a phrase.

This was his first official day back as Pastor. The door to his office was closed. Associate Pastor James J. Fountain opened the door as he knocked, Hey shepherd, welcome back. shepherd responded, good to be back, come in and have a seat. Fountain was already sitting down.