What Would Satan Do? Read Free Page B

seemed to Cadmon just a little bit fiery.  “You have made a lot of money since I started visiting,” he said.  “You can afford it.”
    “Yeah, okay.  So that’s true,” Cadmon admitted.  And it was.  The angel had told him that if he wrote the books, they would sell, and they’d sold.  The angel had told him to start up the automated, computer-based prayer service, and now that was raking in millions.  Perhaps the most important information that the angel had shared, however, was a warning about a series of natural disasters that had struck over the last eighteen months – earthquakes, floods, volcanoes, and plagues of gross things.  And that, more than anything else, was what had allowed Cadmon to grow his empire.
    The preacher had started by sprinkling a few relatively benign statements about the coming Day of Judgment into his sermons.  After the first earthquake had struck Paris, he’d started a two-month series on Judgment Day and the Book of Revelation.  He was two weeks into that when the first swarm of locusts had showed up.  A week later, two tornadoes ripped through Manhattan and central London almost simultaneously.  He’d got a call that night from a producer on CNN, asking if he was available for some on air commentary.  And so he’d begun his rise to national prominence.
    The angel cleared his throat and Cadmon snapped out of his daydream.  The slight smile faded from the preacher’s face, replaced by an expression that was either pain or constipation.  He gritted his teeth and glanced around to see if any of the staff was watching. 
    “You shouldn’t be here now,” he said.  “It’s the middle of the goddamned day!  Someone is going to see you!”  Cadmon ran his eyes up and down the angel.  He was , thought Cadmon, searching for the right word, crusty .  Apart from the whole glowing thing, he hardly appeared angelic or heavenly at all.  And the glow really only made him look like a Chernobyl victim.  His clothing looked like a rough bed sheet or maybe a curtain.  At least he’s got wings , thought Cadmon.
    “There is a storm coming,” said Ezekiel.
    “Yeah, yeah, end of the world.  We’ve been over this.  I’m doing what I can.  I already told you—”
    “No, I speak of an actual storm,” Ezekiel said, staring off into the unknown void.  “A very large storm.  One that will breach the shores of this state and those of your neighbor.  Many will perish.”
    “Oh,” said Cadmon, surprised.  The angel had never before warned him about anything like that.  At least, not in Texas.  Usually, the things that happened here were relatively benign.  Fucking annoying, sure, but nobody was getting hurt by a bunch of stupid bugs or toads.  The really bad stuff struck far away, and earthquakes or floods wiping out brown people in some far-off country somewhere didn’t bother him.  In fact, he found it helpful.  A frightened flock was a good thing.  A dead flock, on the other hand, wasn’t going to keep the lights on.  A scary thought occurred to him.  “I’m not going to perish, am I?”
    The angel whipped his head around.  “No,” he said.
    Cadmon rubbed his chin.  “So,” he said, trying to remember the weather report he’d seen, “you’re talking about that storm in the Caribbean.”  He tilted his head and regarded Ezekiel through squinty, skeptical eyes.  “The tropical storm?  You know where it’s going to hit?”
    “Yes,” said Ezekiel, “and now it is time for us to begin.”

Chapter 3.                  Enorma Was Round, Like Sputnik
    Explosions always just seem to make people go crazy.  It’s weird.  And the students at Georgetown University were not the unique and individual snowflakes they’d have you believe.  No, when Gaston Hall blew up, they went nuts and started freaking out just like people always do.
    The Prince of Darkness paused and turned back to watch as students and staff ran around