“No! Oh, God, no!” Roman tried to dig in his heels. He tried to yank free. He saw that he wasn’t alone. Thousands were in the tunnel, all screaming and fighting as they moved, as though on a huge, terrifying conveyor belt, toward the abyss. A cliff lay ahead, an endless black pit beyond. Humans spilled over, howling as they disappeared. Roman screamed. He looked for something, anything, to grab on to, but there was nothing but the lost souls with him and the loathsome creatures relishing their misery.
Weightless and weak, Roman felt the cold wind blow at his back and the fiery heat of hell ahead. He screamed out the last thing he remembered. “Jesus!”
Shrieks rippled through the cavernous tunnel.
Roman cried out again. “Oh, God! Christ, help me!”
Blinding light filled the darkness. Someone clasped his wrist, lifting him, and in the midst of hell’s cacophony, whispered, “I am.”
Claws grabbed him from beneath, and a dark, hate-filled voice echoed. “He’s mine! Give him to me!” Roman screamed as the hand tightened and talons dug into his calf, sending shards of pain up his leg. He had no strength to kick loose.
“Release him.” A quiet voice spoke from above, and the being from the pit fell away into darkness.
Roman arched again. Fire riddled his body as the shock of electricity spread through his nervous system. He opened his eyes and saw two men bending over him. “We’ve got him!” An EMT leaned in closer. “Hang on, buddy. We’re almost to the hospital.”
Wild with fear, Roman looked around. He tried to move, but he was strapped down.
“Easy now. Lie still.”
White cabinets, yellow tubing, and green monitors surrounded him. A siren screamed overhead. The speed told him he was in an ambulance. His chest and ribs hurt so much he could hardly breathe, let alone talk. His body started to shake.
“Grace . . .” The EMT didn’t hear him. He tried again. “I need Grace.”
“Good thing your girlfriend knew CPR, buddy. Hang in there. We’re almost there.” The vehicle slowed and turned. It stopped. The doors opened.
Two EMTs slid the gurney down a track, lowered the wheels, and locked them in place. Roman got a glimpse of blue sky and then white ceiling. An IV drip was attached to his right arm. He was wheeled into a corridor and heard voices. Thrashing, he tried to get free. “Oh, God.” He moaned, crying now. “Oh, Jesus, don’t let go of me.” The veil had been wisp-thin between life and death. All his strength hadn’t been enough to break free, but one soft word from Christ, and he was alive again.
Grace tried to stay calm as she drove Roman’s car to the hospital. Thankfully, she’d remembered the fob before the ambulance left. One of the EMTs fished it out of Roman’s pocket. He gave her quick directions. Too shaken to take them in or to figure out the car’s computer system, she used the GPS on her phone. The calm, computerized voice helped steady her. She parked and ran into the emergency room. When she asked about Roman Velasco, the nurse wanted to know if she was his wife.
“He’s my boss. We were on a business trip.”
Consigned to a waiting area, Grace perched on the edge of the seat, praying, watching every movement of the medical personnel, listening for any slip of information. Others sat with her, upset and waiting for news of their loved ones. Apparently, Friday afternoons could be busy. Close to tears, she covered her face and prayed some more. She wanted to be doing something. Pulling out her phone, she texted Shanice. I’m in ER in Santa Clarita. Roman had a heart attack. Please pray.
“Anyone here named Grace?”
“Yes!” She surged to her feet. “I’m Grace.” Tucking her phone into her purse, she fell into step with the nurse.
“He keeps asking for you. Try to calm him down. We want to prep him for surgery, but he’s convinced if he goes under anesthesia, he’ll end up in hell. He said the leg injury came from some demon—”
“What leg injury?”
The nurse frowned as he pushed the door open. “The doctor is on his way.”
Roman’s skin was ashen. Hooked to machines, an IV in his arm, an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth, he looked terrified as he jerked at the restraints. Fighting tears, Grace came closer. She had to stay calm for his sake. “Roman.” She put her hand on his arm. He looked at her, eyes wild, and said something she couldn’t understand. He yanked at the belts that held him. She leaned down. “These people know how to help you.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “I’m here. Focus on me right now.” The nurse put medication into the IV. She squeezed Roman’s hand. “I’ll be in the waiting room, praying for you. I’m not leaving. I promise.”