By now Yuri could not ignore how much he wanted to eat. Unable to resist, he picked up a strip between his thumb and forefinger and, not wanting to look weak, dangled the whole thing into his mouth. The morsel began to melt like butter and had a savoury flavour.

  “Tastes like steak!” Yuri exclaimed. “What tree is this, to get bark that tastes like that?” he asked, taking another strip in his fingers. “It’s hot as well!”

  “See those orbs in the sky?” asked one of the men, glancing up at them. “They are between planets and suns. They’re close enough to bring a new kind of light and energy to this earth,” replied the man.

  “New energy, new plants,” added the other.

  “There’s new things in space?” asked Yuri, trying to understand.

  “Yes,” said the man. “It’s a new earth, and there are new heavens.”

  Yuri had helped himself to the rest of the bark strips and shared them with Gulag. Feeling much better, he decided he needed more information.

  “Who are you?” he asked, bluntly.

  “This is Thomas, and my name is Bull,” said the broader one with short, light brown hair. “Come, let’s walk and talk. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

  “No.” Yuri wasn’t finished with his interrogation. “What do you mean? Tell me who you are and where we are going. I don’t know you!”

  “There’s a place for you,” said Thomas.

  “A house?”

  “Yes, a house for you within the community.”

  This was appealing to Yuri. Surely this meant that he would be with people he already knew, in which case he would find ways to dominate them. If there was one thing Yuri knew he could do, it was finding people’s weaknesses and exploiting them.

  *

  The sound of cracking ribs always gave Yuri a distinct feeling – a sickly satisfaction. He had crafted his ability to be such that he could strike a body blow and break ribs, leaving his victim choking for breath.

  The city at night was his kingdom. He knew how to use gang culture and the offer of increasingly heavy drugs to lure young people into a twisted family of which he was the head of the household. Pushing people along a devastating pathway of addiction and dependency was a tried and tested technique by which Yuri created addicts who were easy to control.

  Helena was fourteen when she appeared on the edge of Yuri’s circle. Young, fatherless and eager to please, she was easy prey. Yuri had several men in their twenties trained to groom young girls for the sex trade. They knew how to conjure a sense of belonging and hook them on drugs.

  Helena accepted all that she was offered and soon developed a dependency on heroin. Her handlers only gave her what she so craved if she serviced the men who came to their brothels. Pimping young women and selling drugs gave Yuri and his most loyal men a lavish lifestyle. It was easy to pay the police to turn a blind eye and avoid their quarters of the city.

  Helena was ambitious. By the time she was seventeen she was regularly having sex with Yuri. He pulled her off the brothel work and had her installed in his penthouse as his personal sex slave. At first, Helena couldn’t imagine a better life. She was able to wash whenever she liked and even had her own wardrobe for the clothes that Yuri enjoyed seeing her wear. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had something of her own. Yuri kept the purest heroin aside for her.

  One evening, the heroin she took was unusually strong. She fell unconscious on the bed. When Yuri came to her for sex, she was unresponsive – unable to fulfil her only function in Yuri’s world. Frayed by business that had gone badly that day, Yuri’s temper snapped.

  Helena’s ribs broke easily as his fist smashed into her body. Weakened from years of malnutrition, her body began to convulse as she lost consciousness. Her shattered ribs had punctured her lungs and now she was drowning in her own blood.

  Yuri held her by the neck against the wall while blood poured out of her mouth and nose. It ran down the back of his hand, thick and hot. Repulsed, he let go of her throat and she slumped to the floor. A soft gurgling sound came from her mouth as her frail body gave in and she died.

  Yuri wasn’t sure why thoughts of Helena had come to him now, walking through a forest following two strangers. She was neither the first nor the last person he had killed in his life. Her face seemed to float in his mind, eyes rolled back into her skull and her blue lips slack and motionless.

  Suddenly Yuri felt sick. He stopped walking, turned to the side of the road and readied himself to vomit. Gulag had been following Yuri closely, and he stopped to remain near him. He let out a little wince, upset at seeing his master unwell.

  Sensing Yuri had stopped walking, Bull and Thomas turned.

  Yuri felt panic rise inside him. He desperately wanted to disappear, to be well and truly dead.

  Breathing deeply to quell his nausea, he closed his eyes, but all he could see was Helena’s lifeless face.

  Yuri felt there was nowhere to hide.

  Thomas turned to Bull. “Bad memories,” he whispered. Bull nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Yuri. Yuri locked his eyes back on Bull, trying desperately not to give any ground.

  “You… you can fuck off now,” he snarled.

  Bull had learned by now that threatening behaviour and even violence went hand in hand with the task of trying to help people. Bull looked back into Yuri’s eyes and stood his ground. Thomas stood with him, shoulder to shoulder.

  “Yuri,” Thomas said quietly but with resolve, “what have we done to wrong you?”

  There was nothing aggressive about how Bull and Thomas were communicating, but it still felt to Yuri as though he was being taunted.

  “Where is this community?” he asked curtly.

  “It’s some way yet,” answered Bull. “We will show you.”

  Bull didn’t wait for an answer. He and Thomas turned away and began walking. Yuri could tell they weren’t looking to talk to him at this point, so he followed at a distance with Gulag by his side.

  Yuri only interacted with Bull and Thomas when they stopped to eat. He was surprised to discover they treated him with no malice or hatred. They served him food and drink at various stops. At night they all climbed into certain trees that had hammock-style branches. They showed no fear of him, nor tried to control him, and Yuri could not understand why.

  Now and then, Bull and Thomas would greet various people on the road, sometimes with a newly resurrected person walking with them. The terrain changed periodically, all familiar and yet new. The New Earth clearly had many of the same natural attributes as the old, with mountains, lakes, rivers, forests, meadows and heathland. Yuri grew curious as to why there were so few other people, and no cities to be seen.

  After many days of walking, Bull and Thomas had led Yuri to a stark landscape. Bleached rock formations jutted up from the ground, shrouded by thick dark trees.

  They came to a cliff edge and sprawled out beneath was a mass of grey concrete huts, laid out in rows. There were some larger buildings arranged around a square, with colourful flowers and bushes growing along and up the walls. Yuri could make out various figures walking about and a river on the far side of the camp with irrigation channels that were feeding what looked like allotments and vegetable patches.

  “This is your new home,” said Bull.

  “This is one of many communities across the New Earth,” Thomas explained. “I am sure you will quickly identify with many of its members.”

  A sudden thud came from behind Yuri that distracted him from the scene below. He turned and saw a huge creature, with wings like an eagle but a body like a lion.

  “Cedric!” cried Thomas.

  Bull turned to Yuri. “Cedric is a seraph. He’s the guardian of the community.”

  Yuri tried not to look worried, but this strange creature was four times bigger than him.

  “Come,” Cedric said to Yuri with a voice deeper than any he’d ever heard.

  Before Yuri could protest, Cedric was approaching him. Yuri hoped Gulag would defend him, but instead he was sitting calmly.

  Breathless with anxiety, Yuri turned to Thomas.

  “I suppose you will be keeping my dog?”

  “No,” said Thomas. “Gulag is a gift from Jesus. Let him be a reminder that you are loved.”

  Yuri was thankful but didn’t voice it.

  “Come!” said Cedric in a voice like thunder. He opened his huge wings and began to beat them.

  Yuri gathered Gulag in his arms just as the seraph took hold of his waist and leapt over the side of the cliff. For a few seconds Cedric was in flight with Yuri and Gulag tucked close against his stomach. He landed, sending up a cloud of dust, and released Yuri and Gulag, who jumped down and began sniffing the ground.

  Yuri could see Thomas and Bull observing from the cliff top, and in a final desperate act of defiance, he lifted both hands, fists balled, and slowly erected his middle fingers.

  “Fuck you!” Yuri mouthed before turning away.

  “I wonder how many jubilees it’ll be before he finally learns the way of love,” mused Thomas.

  “A fair few I reckon,” said Bull. “He’s a proud soul in a community of proud souls.”

  “We’ll be back soon to settle in with them,” said Thomas. Living alongside these difficult men was one of the toughest assignments, but they knew there was much reward in the challenge.

  Cedric had flown back up to the cliff top and had resumed his usual position watching over the camp from a comfortable nest. Bull and Thomas waved goodbye, and Cedric lifted a huge paw to his head in a salute.

  “And now our meeting,” Thomas reminded Bull as they set off back down the road.

  Fran

  Jesus tried to make conversation, but Fran was still clearly upset with him. The two had left through the back door in the kitchen as it was time for Jesus to show Fran where she’d be living. Sensing her mood, Jesus kept quiet until she spoke again.

  Fran stopped walking and waited for Jesus to turn to her.

  “Look here,” she said briskly. “Why wasn’t I warned about all this? I find it entirely unfair that I was told that all I had to do was believe and I would be saved.”

  Jesus sat down on a nearby rock.

  “Who says you won’t be saved?” he asked.

  “Well, this doesn’t feel like salvation,” snapped Fran. “What about ‘For there is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus’?”

  “Do you feel condemned?” asked Jesus, sincerely.

  “Actually I do!”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you were expecting?” asked Jesus.

  Fran came closer to Jesus. She opened her mouth to answer him, but realised she didn’t have anything to say that didn’t sound like a cliché. Her face brightened as she remembered more Bible verses.

  “Streets paved with gold... lots of angels... and people I know from my church.”

  “Well, all of that can be found here,” responded Jesus. “Do you remember the bit about the New Earth?”

  “Yes,” replied Fran. “God said he would create a new heaven and a new earth.”

  “All of creation is being made new. And that includes each person.”

  “Right,” said Fran, trying to show she could listen.

  “But everyone starts at different points on the journey. We condemn no one; rather we encourage each person to become more Christlike.”

  “Like you, then?” said Fran with a touch of sarcasm.

  “Our Father, I call him Papa, asked me to be like Him, to always show agape love and to demonstrate that he considers each person to be a cherished child. His desire is that all His children live in agape love. When they do, they will join me in God’s household and live the abundant life we promised.”

  “Yes, so all Christians are anointed,” insisted Fran.

  “Well, not exactly. Some have knowledge in their head about the Bible, and they obey their religion with devotion; but they may never have known the anointing that comes from following me.”

  “But I did follow you!” exclaimed Fran, frustrated by the inference that she hadn’t.

  “What did that look like in your life?” asked Jesus.

  “I worshipped you. I… I… I took the bread and wine. And I kept away from the horrible ungodly things in the world.”

  “You mean, you followed the Christian religion and cut yourself off from people who didn’t fit your idea of what it means to be a good person?”

  Jesus was telling the truth, but Fran felt increasingly angry with him.

  “Did you ‘love your enemies, and bless those who persecute you’? And did you ‘not judge, unless you want to be judged’?”

  Fran remembered how she had despised those who failed to match up to her expectations.

  “I was trying to keep myself pure!” she burst out.

  “And in so doing, you lost the heart of what I taught and how I lived.”

  Fran was at a crossroads. She could accept what Jesus was saying or she could try to defend herself. She wavered for a moment before her emotions boiled up again. Jesus was an easy target for her rage.

  “It’s alright for you!” she hissed. “You’re God!”

  Jesus simply nodded as though he understood her and said nothing. He waited for her to continue.

  “You couldn’t possibly get anything wrong!”

  Jesus answered her calmly “Yet I was crucified.”

  Fran was unable to answer that. She remembered as a little girl looking up at the stained glass window in church. Most Sundays she would look at the face of Jesus on the cross and feel sad that he had died so painfully.

  “I know,” she said, calming down a little.

  Jesus set off and looked back at Fran, inviting her to follow.

  “Where are we going anyway?” asked Fran sullenly.

  “There’s a community waiting for you. It’s where you’ll live for the time being.”

  “The time being?” repeated Fran. “I thought this was eternity?”

  “Time is different when you know you will not die. But time still exists. Seconds, minutes, hours all still work. We have the same measurements of time as the Previous Age; we’re not trying to confuse anyone.”

  Fran wasn’t really listening. She was still trying to process that this was really ‘it’, and that she would never die.

  “So, I won’t die? What if I jumped off a cliff?”

  Jesus laughed. “Nearly everyone asks that. Your body is totally upgraded from your previous one. You will not age, and your body will recover from any damage. Your skin feels the same, but it will always repair itself. Your organs will always recover from injury. You’ll just have to test what it can do, won’t you? Remember, you’ve already died and been given a new body”

  For the first time, a smile passed over Fran’s face. She looked at her limbs and was very glad to feel so strong and healthy.

  “So, I am in Heaven,” she mused out loud.

  Jesus turned and started along the path.

  Fran walked just behind Jesus in order to avoid conversation. She was impatient to see where she would be living.

  They crested the brow of a hill and, looking down, they could see a village. The houses were neat cottages and looked homely.

  “Nearly there,” he said.

  Walking up from the village was a lady wearing a bright white trouser suit and a man sporting a white T-shirt and white flannels.

  “Sylvia, hello!” called Jesus.

  “Hello, Jesus!” she called out and waved.

  “Jesus,” cried Carlos with delight. “So good to see you!”

  Soon they were close enough for introductions.

  “This is Fran,” said Jesus. “And Fran, this is Sylvia and Carlos. They will be with you in the community.”

  “Hello Fran. Welcome to your new home. Come, I’ll show you around.”

  “Thank you both. I’ll see you later,” said Jesus, and he turned to Fran.

  “Fran, this is a good community for you. Please remember this if it feels hard. Don’t forget, we love you.”

  Fran nodded sullenly, feeling patronised. She didn’t make eye-contact with Jesus, who put a hand on her shoulder before he began to walk back the way they’d come.

  Fran was relieved he’d gone.

  “How did you find your time with Jesus?” asked Sylvia as they headed towards the village.

  “Not what I was expecting. Why is he so… condescending?” replied Fran.

  “He is in charge here, you know,” said Carlos cheerfully.

  “Hmm,” responded Fran indignantly.

  They rounded a corner and Sylvia stopped next to a little house. It was made of stone and had wooden beams that could be seen supporting the walls. The roof was thatched, and Fran was rather pleased with the chocolate-box feel of the village.

  They heard the sound of footsteps descending stairs in the small cottage next door and a key turning in the lock. The door opened a few inches and a face peered through the gap.

  “Hello Imelda,” said Sylvia. “This is Fran, your new neighbour.”

  The door opened a little wider and a stern face looked Fran up and down. Without saying a word, Imelda turned back to Sylvia.

  “Really? Must she be so close? Can’t she go somewhere else?”

  “I’m afraid not. Come on, you’ve only just arrived yourself. I did tell you that there would be others.”

  Fran was feeling rejected and irritated by Imelda already.

  “It’s ok. I’ll go somewhere else.”

  Sylvia turned to Fran. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. This is the place reserved for you.”

  “Now look here,” Fran said abruptly. “This is Heaven, isn’t it? Surely we all get what we want?”

  “I know it’s perhaps not what you thought it would be, and yes, this is the New Earth, but you will have to put aside your images of Heaven from the Previous Age. Everyone outside the Eternal City is in a process. You included, Fran.”

  “Outside the City?”

  Fran stopped short; a terrible realisation dawning.

  She turned to Carlos with wide eyes filled with fear. “I thought only the ungodly were outside the City?” she gasped.

  Fran’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground.