Irish: An Angel's Journey
Page 16
Chapter 11
Nickajack Battle
Gaafar pulled up to the hotel pickup area at 9 a.m. and waited. He didn’t want to miss this fare; although, he was paid in advance. He and his wife, Somu, celebrated their good fortune, but Gaafar was keenly aware that there was some danger. He gave Somu $5,000 and kept $35,000 for the new taxi. He didn’t understand what could cause him so much danger; but if Irish said it was dangerous, he had to believe her. Gaafar and Somu had watched a television news program the previous evening talking about the strange storm clouds and weather conditions over Nickajack. He only told his wife that a prophetess warned him of danger but promised to go with him. They praised God for such an adventure.
Grace grabbed some snacks as they were leaving the hotel. As they checked out, the hotel manager came to meet them saying, "Anytime you want to stay at our hotel, you're more than welcome. Next time, just let us know in advance so we can stock up the kitchen. By the way, who ate all the food?" He looked back and forth between them, thinking they must have flushed it down the toilet or had a small army visiting.
"Just me, and it was good. We don’t get food like that in heaven," Grace shouted back at him as they walked out the door and left the manager mouthing, "Heaven?"
Grace and Irish walked calmly towards Gaafar’s cab. There was a certainty with them that this journey was about over. More so for Grace than Irish, but still a sense of finality about what was to take place. Irish was comforted by Aaron’s promise of a great army of powers. It sounded like God was preparing with more than enough strength to win this one.
Gaafar jumped out to greet them and swung open the doors with curt bows of respect. Irish got in the front seat next to Gaafar while Grace took over the back seat. Gaafar was so excited that he could barely contain himself, "You have made my wife and me very happy, happy, happy, my lady. Are you ready?" he asked.
As they pulled out of the hotel parking lot, he started a Sudanese praise song, which Irish and Grace joined in as if they had been doing it all their lives. Their heads moved back and forth to the beat, and they looked all together silly to other travelers, but they didn’t care.
As Irish would say, "They were rocking!"
They made it onto I-24, which wrapped around the river, and started working their way towards Nickajack. As they went past a rest-stop sign for the Nickajack, Gaafar whistled loudly, "Man o' man, my lady! That’s some mean storm ahead. Shall I keep going?" he asked while feeling extremely surprised by how violent it looked.
"No, pull over under that overpass and let’s wait," she replied.
She looked up towards Nickajack and back towards Chattanooga. Finally, she saw the white wings of her 1100 heading directly towards them. Gaafar was unaware of them approaching until he looked at his rearview mirror.
"Oh, Lord, my lady! Oh, Lord! We have some beautiful company." He was tearing up in excitement. "Is this the army of angels you promised me, prophetess?" He was trying to count them, but there were too many. Irish knew exactly how many there were. Aaron appeared in the back seat, and Gaafar tried to scramble out the open car window until Irish grabbed his arm and pulled him back in.
"This is Aaron, my, my, well, just call him my good and old friend, the commander of the angel legions. He is responsible for all these angels for our trip." Aaron reached over the seat and squeezed her neck affectionately.
"The battle begins. I must go. Angels will fall like rain today. Be careful. You can never tell if some might get through. Look for me in the fray, will you?" He disappeared.
Counting The Odds
Dar-Raven looked over the Nickajack skyline watching as three of God’s legions assembled. He knew there had to be more. Dar-Raven saw an easy battle, but he still didn’t know how many more God would send. He wanted to move fast to stop Irish and Grace. He kept thinking about kidnapping Irish and holding her for a while until he was sure her mission was delayed enough.
Aaron was surveying his warriors, sizing up their fitness from the last of the ranks, not wanting to be seen quite yet. He kept looking for Dar-Raven, but nothing so far. He thought Dar-Raven might bring some of his Sudanese warriors. Their height would make them stand out. He knew that if he spotted them, Dar-Raven might be near. Below him on the road, Irish and Grace sat in the car anxiously waiting for the signal to proceed. With three seen legions exposed and milling tightly together for the first onslaught, Aaron’s forces lined themselves up in rows ten deep, wrapping around the sky in a perfect semicircle. Aaron’s powers were his only defense. He wouldn’t bring anyone to battle except powers. Others weren't built for a battle as savage as this would be. Suddenly, Aaron spotted a figure of who he thought was Dar-Raven. Dar-Raven’s attention seemed to be above him. Dar-Raven was looking above him while motioning with his hands, a special trait of his. That was a dead giveaway to Aaron where some of Dar-Raven’s unseen warriors were hiding. Aaron knew that Dar-Raven’s reserves were unseen just as his. What a gamble thought Aaron. Neither side knew exactly how many each side had. Aaron ordered one of his seen legions to accompany him to the edge of the densest, dark clouds. It was only two thousand feet above him and west of their current position. He thought he might be able to draw out some of the unseen or get a glimpse of the number. Either one was worth the risk.
Dar-Raven saw Aaron moving with his legions towards his army. He laughed to himself and sent a message that Aaron was approaching. His five Sudanese legions drew their swords and prepared to drop down on Aaron at Dar-Raven’s signal. Halfway to the dark clouds, Aaron turned towards his angels and gave them a command to take the five unseen legions already assigned to Irish and follow her. The remaining four legions, seen and unseen, were to remain and prepare for the attack. He gave Irish the okay. He knew that the legions assigned to her should be sufficient. He also wanted to see just how far she would get before Dar-Raven made his move. Now, Dar-Raven would have to pick between Irish, Aaron, or his front line. Aaron thought he might be stupid enough to do all three, but he still didn’t know if Dar-Raven had enough warriors. He would find out soon enough.
Dar-Raven saw the cab speeding up the interstate accompanied by the seen 1100 powers with the original hundred carrying only their short swords. Dar-Raven motioned for all three of his seen legions to move directly for Aaron’s gathered and well-mannered frontline. He ordered seven legions to put a wedge between Aaron and Irish. With Aaron becoming isolated and going into his trap, he could whittle them to pieces before they realized what was happening. Aaron would get a count while they butchered them. There was a new order per Dar-Raven, leave Aaron be; Aaron was his.
Dar-Raven thought battles like this were more of a gamble than Russian roulette. Here he was sending his three legions against a front line, not knowing there were four legions. He was sending seven legions towards Irish’s unknown five legions plus her small escort. He held back the other five Sudanese legions just for a surprise against Aaron's oncoming one. The battle was unevenly matched in Dar-Raven's favor, but neither Dar-Raven nor Aaron could know that at this time. The total of Aaron’s warriors were ten legions against Dar-Raven’s fifteen, but they were being appropriated differently. Once the battle began, all the angels would be seen, no secrets any more.
The Gaafar Bullet
Gaafar heard Irish yell, "Now, go, as fast as you can! Don’t look back! For God’s sake, don’t look up!"
He pushed his gas pedal to the floor, accelerating to seventy in just the first hundred yards. He hit a steep winding incline that made getting over seventy, not necessarily impossible, but dangerous, especially with a sheer-rock mountainside going straight down thousands of feet to his right. He turned the wheel tortuously and tried not to brake.
He kept yelling, "My lady, please tell me what is happening! Please!"
Irish got in the back seat with Grace and saw Dar-Raven’s seven legions plummeting, not flying down towards them. Three
hundred feet above the cab, one third went headlong into her small angel guard, which became a wall blocking Aaron’s five legions from following the cab. Regardless how many were assigned to Irish, they faced too many to just fly over. They had to battle their way through. Many were snarled in terrible death rolls, throwing them into deadly spins down the mountainside.
Another third flew at breakneck speed down the mountain several miles away and set up an angel barricade while the rest attacked the cab. The cab was weaving and swerving so severely trying to stay on the road that none of Dar-Raven’s angels could maintain a hold on it. If they had been able to organize themselves, they could have carried the cab off, but they were thrown off by Gaafar’s alarming speed and recklessness.
Gaafar screamed hysterically, "What is happening? Oh, Lord, help us! Please help us!"
Some angels were crashing headlong on top of the cab, trying to buckle the roof in towards them. Some fell over the top of the hood onto the payment and made a terrible racket as Gaafar ran over them. He had to slow down because of the angel body bumps. The incline was becoming increasingly steep, making it hard to keep the cab under control and keep the momentum. Some angels broke through the windows, not with swords; but with their fists while trying to reach Grace and Irish. Grace crawled down on the floorboards and covered her head with her hands, screaming in unison with Gaafar. Irish was partly successful at keeping them away by kicking at them and punching at their bloody hands trying to grip the window frames jagged with broken glass.
Gaafar reached under his seat and yelled at Grace, "Get up here, girl, and help me!" Grace scrambled over the seat and rolled with a great thud on the floor. As she looked up, she was looking into the barrel of a pump-action shotgun.
"Grab it, girl! Take it! Use it!" Grace hesitated for a moment, and then yelled back at Irish.
"Can I?" she asked.
"Can you what?" shouted Irish as she pried the fingers of another dark angel from the back window.
"Can I fight back?" Grace yelled.
Gaafar interrupted, "If you don’t, we’re all dead, look!" As they crested the top of the first mountain, they noticed the massing of Dar-Raven’s army blocking it at the bottom with their swords drawn.
Irish saw that only a few of her own angels had broken through the first angel attack. They were catching up and pulling the dark angels away from them, but still having to stop and fight as they did. The cab was now picking up downhill speed, and Gaafar could barely keep it under control. The windshield exploded as a dark angel hit it head-on, then rolled off being immediately attacked and outnumbered by some additional powers from Aaron’s front line. These powers decided that Irish needed more help than just those assigned to her. With the windshield open, it was too much of an invitation and tempted three dark angels to try thrusting their way through the opening at the same time. They were after Gaafar this time. Another dark angel on the back window was reaching for Irish but changed his mind and moved easily to Gaafar. He thrust his hand through the shattered glass and grabbed him by his coat lapel.
"Do something, girl!" Gaafar screamed, ducked, and let his coat slip off, which sent the angel into the median.
Irish yelled, "Do something, girl!"
Irish let her know in her spirit that she wasn’t heir-servant yet. She could fight back. So could Irish but only so far, nothing as severe as a shotgun.
The three dark angels blocking the window were literally fighting over who would get in first. Grace looked strangely at the shotgun, pointed it at them, and pulled the trigger but nothing happened.
"Pump it, girl, pump it!" yelled Gaafar while sticking his head out the driver’s side to see where he was going.
She pulled on the barrel, and it slid back easily. She pushed it forward without knowing why and accidentally pulled the trigger, sending a blast into the face of the middle angel. He didn’t move for a second because he was stuck between his friends.
Gaafar screamed at her, "Hurry up, girl! Keep your finger on the trigger and do it over and over!"
She was now holding down the trigger and repeating the pumping action. She pointed at the arm of the angel in front of Gaafar on the next round. Then, she turned it towards the angel to her right, expertly destroying his left shoulder. All three plummeted off the cab at the same time; one down the mountain; another into the median jumped on by powers; the middle one thumped like a large rag doll under the wheels and axle.
"Way to go, girl!" shouted Gaafar.
"Wow, this is fun!" exclaimed Grace. She was disappointed that there weren’t anymore obvious targets to shoot at.
Kidnapped
Irish decided she could defend them better from the outside of the cab. She squeezed herself out the window, spread her wings, and flew fiercely beside the cab as they approached the wall of dark angels.
Aaron’s four legions advanced on Dar-Raven’s legions at lightening speed, not waiting for them to reach them, but Aaron’s group watched for Dar-Raven’s unseen army. They found them, unfortunately, just as Sudanese angels fell with wings pointing upwards for speed, a dead-weight fall, then stopped in the middle of Aaron’s warriors. There were so many dark angels that Aaron’s legion was torn and cut apart by five-to-one odds. It was worse since these were Sudanese warriors. Many of Aaron’s angels had never fought this kind of angel before. Their immense size made it difficult. Their longer arms enabled them to make sword contact long before Aaron’s powers could ever get to them. No one touched Aaron (still saved for Dar-Raven). That didn’t stop him from sending dark angels falling below him in parts and pieces. He knew exactly why they left him alone. Aaron saw the number of dark angels and praised the Lord for his promised legions. He had already calculated that his army may be outnumbered, but God had promised more.
Just at that moment, God spoke to Aaron, "I have your surprise. Look to your east."
Aaron looked up to see over ninety legions of powers pouring in from the eastern sky. The Lord must have ordered reserves from every part of the globe. Aaron ordered half of them to help Irish. He ordered them to cut across the battle arena and take care of the barricade. He forced his attention to Irish and gave up the fight by driving down through the fighting blood sport and trying to make it to Irish with his new reinforcements. As they got closer to Irish, the cab was only a hundred feet from the dark angel wall.
Gaafar saw Irish being grabbed by four dark angels and carried away only to run into Aaron’s new legions. They were pushed down by the sheer numbers. Irish kicked, clawed, and bit her way loose from the last angel holding her by her waist. Aaron saw her tearing away from the waist hold and would have laughed had he not seen Dar-Raven approaching Irish from behind with a large number of painted Sudanese warriors. Irish saw the panic on Aaron’s face and turned to see Dar-Raven only inches from her. She instantly turned sick and knew she was trapped, and Aaron was blocked by the battle fray. The Sudanese angels encircled her and continued to fight off the powers that were trying to protect her. Dar-Raven grabbed her by the back of her wings and chained them together, which gave him a sturdy handhold as he flew upward and dragged her with him.
Those closest to the cab heard Grace scream a blood-curdling, shrill order, "Irish, no, Irish! Stop the cab, stop it now!"
"Girl, we have to plow through those guys in front of us! Are you going to let us sit like ducks?" He kept his speed, then noticed that more and more powers were massing around him and traveled with him towards the bottom of the hill.
"Dar-Raven has Irish, stop! These powers can take care of those blockaders. You had a deal. You’re to take Irish to Sewanee; without her, there is no deal! I’ll cause everyone of those dollars she gave you to turn to dust if you don’t stop!"
Grace pushed the bent-and-broken door open on her side as he slowed in submission to her threats. He began banging his head against the steering wheel in frustration.
Gaafar shouted, "Gaafar is stupid, so stu
pid! This is stupid, so stupid! My ride is ruined! My fare is gone! My money is dust! Lord, have mercy on me! I am so stupid to trust in these white girls with wings, so stupid!"
The remainder of the angels that were traveling with them reached the road-blocking angels and began to slaughter them. They encircled them in a massive noose, and then kept pulling the circle closer together. There were enough powers that those not fighting setup an angel canopy in the sky above the battle and waited for Dar-Raven’s angels trying to escape.
Gaafar saw the angel-body debris piling up on the road before him and knew he couldn’t get his cab through the mess, so gave up and parked the cab in the shade of a big roadside tree and waited. For what, he didn’t know. He just waited.
Aaron called for every angel to cover Dar-Raven’s escape. Irish was slowing down Dar-Raven. He couldn’t force her to change and move through time and space. He had to haul her behind him while in full-angel form. He saw the angels blocking him and realized that there were too many. His angels did well against the powers, but the odds were too great. He knew this was a useless trip. He cursed God and let Irish go, then saw Aaron flying straight for him. The rest of his angels escaped in different directions but were also blocked and turned into chunks of angel parts in a matter of seconds.
Irish couldn’t stop her fall. Her concentration to change and transport herself was encumbered by the chains on her wings. They were excruciatingly painful; although angels didn’t feel pain like humans, it was still unbearable. She knew these were chains forged in hell especially to cause pain.
Grace flew through the maze of fighters and came up under Irish, catching her, but her weight and speed of descent drove them down at an alarming speed. Grace grabbed one of Irish’s feet and with all her strength slung her off to the side and towards the center of the lake. She followed her fall until they both rocketed into the lake, sending up a spray over twenty-five feet high. They kept falling and bounced off the bottom, some two hundred feet below the surface, landing on mud-covered boulders and old fences that had been underwater for over thirty years. Grace was finally able to take hold of her by using Dar-Raven's chain and carried her to the surface. As they surfaced, Irish’s head kept falling to the side from having passed from the pain. Grace kept pulling her to the surface, but each time they made it they started sinking again.
Grace called out for help, "Angels, help me! Please, I'm too small to do this! Please help me!"
Gaafar's Victory
Appearing only feet away from her came Joseph and Isaac. Joseph scooped Irish up in his arms while Isaac did the same with Grace. Irish started coming to as they neared the cab. Gaafar was still fussing at himself, and occasionally, hitting the dashboard with his fists or banging his head against the steering wheel.
Irish moaned in the pain, pleading with Joseph, "Joseph, please help me. Get these chains off me, please. They're draining my life away. I'm so weak. They are cursed chains of hell made by Apollyon himself. They are burning their way into me. They are torturing me. Please get them off." Irish was crying, and her face twisted in agony.
Joseph flew her down to the interstate; and as Isaac landed, Grace yelled at him, "We need to cut these chains off her.
Joseph ordered, “Hold her. I promise, Irish, that I won’t miss."
Irish bent over collapsing again as Joseph took his sword and with an upward cut hit the chain with all his might. He only caused her wings to thrust into an awkward misplaced position without making a dent in any link while Irish screamed from the blow.
Gaafar saw them land some 150 feet away and saw Joseph swinging at Irish’s back with his sword. He heard her crying and screaming. He put the cab in reverse and stepped hard on the gas, almost overshooting them, then braked hard. He jumped out and thought for a moment that these angels were hurting her. He soon saw the black-iron chain with a large lock hanging from under her blood-soaked wings.
"You can’t cut it off, my lady?" he asked, forgetting his personal cab problems and only wanting to help.
She couldn’t see or hear anything and knew the chains were designed to increase pain the longer they were worn and to eventually kill an angel. Only Apollyon would create such a wicked device. Joseph and Isaac knelt beside her, holding her while trying to comfort her, but she was going in and out of consciousness now. Gaafar thought this was a blessing.
"You angels cannot fix it, can you?" He made his question sound like an announcement of understatement.
Grace ran to Gaafar crying, "Can you help my Irish, Gaafar, can you?"
He looked at her like she was crazy. If angels couldn’t help, how could he? He got closer, and then he smiled sneakily. "Why do they use a lock?" asked Gaafar.
Joseph looked at him as if he was stupid, but Gaafar wasn't fazed by it. Gaafar raised his pant legs and pointed to bands of old-healed raw skin from leg irons in a Muslim prison in the Sudan. He was pointing like he knew a great secret, but no one else was getting it.
"I, Gaafar, unlocked my own shackles. There is no lock I can’t undo!" He stood up proudly from examining the lock, and everyone including Grace had to believe him.
"What do you need?" asked Grace. Grace was thinking of creating it for him. Gaafar was unaware of that angel talent and went about doing it himself.
Gaafar went to his trunk and grabbed a can of axle grease. He had used chicken fat from his meals when in prison. He pushed the axle grease into the lock until it oozed out the keyhole. He went back to the cab and rummaged through his glove compartment and trunk. He finally stopped, put his face in his hands, and sobbed leaning against the cab. Grace went to him while Joseph and Isaac watched mystified.
Grace asked, "Oh, Gaafar, you must help her. You must do it before she comes to again. I don’t think I can stand hearing her scream anymore. Please, help her. What is it that you need?"
He looked down at her as she hugged him. The top of her head came to just above his waist. From his point of view under each of the red bows, he saw exactly what he was looking for.
He thought smiling, "Who would ever think of such a miracle. What is an angel doing with hairpins? There is no time to whittle a chicken bone down to a sliver this time. Oh, girl, you have answered our prayer." He reached down pulling out each of the hairpins and ran over to Irish.
He told Joseph with the largest hands, "I need you to put your hand under the lock and hold it still."
Joseph placed his wide, thick hands carefully under the lock, not wanting it to pull on her wings. He watched as Gaafar worked both hairpins into the lock. Sweat poured from Gaafar soaking his clothes, and Grace kept wiping it from his face with the tips of her wings. She touched his back lightly and sent waves of peace over him. They all heard a tiny click and a sigh from Gaafar.
"That’s one, one more to go."
Once one of the hairpins was stuck and held in place by the grease, he moved to the other side of the lock. He looked up at Joseph and asked, "Who made these locks?"
Joseph said his name and felt the bitterness forming as he said it, "Satan."
Gaafar started shaking when he heard his name. All the superstition of his country crept from the ground around him and seemed to seize him, not letting him continue. Grace touched him again, and he calmed and proceeded. He could hear Irish moaning, and knew that he had to move fast.
"Well," he said proudly, "he’s stupid." A double click was heard, and they all held their breath. "How come someone as powerful as the 'Old Dark One' couldn’t do a better job than this?"
Gaafar laughed while opening the lock, and the chains fell from her wings. Joseph smiled gratefully while Grace and Isaac hugged Gaafar in thanks. Joseph took the chains and slung them over the side of the mountain.
Irish started to come to, whispering weakly, "Where is my love, my Aaron?"
One On One
Joseph looked up towards his angels surrounding th
e lake sky. At the top of the angel canopy, Dar-Raven and Aaron were just squaring off. There were no dark angels left, but Dar-Raven knew that no one would touch him but Aaron.
Dar-Raven seldom wore a shirt in battle, too easy to grab a hold of. Aaron, on the other hand, always wore billowing cotton shirts. He also wore war leathers wrapped around him high above his waist. He pulled off his shirt this time and facing Dar-Raven for only the eighth time in the last ten thousand years. Aaron had never been beaten by Dar-Raven, though there had been many ties. They stood a hundred feet from each other; and with an explosion of speed, they charged each other with their swords colliding. The sound cracked the sky, and the angels hooted and cheered for Aaron.
The charge shook Dar-Raven, especially when his narrow sword connected so violently with the width of Aaron’s. Aaron’s sword was missing a small chunk of its mid-section from the sharpness of Dar-Raven’s blade, but it could afford to miss a chunk. They squared off again, standing only half the distance as last time. When they charged, Dar-Raven dodged and swung viciously at the last minute taking a large section of Aaron’s right wing. Aaron bowed to Dar-Raven, recognizing the skill and forced himself to grow back his feathers immediately.
"Old dog, it’s going to take more than missing some feathers to finish this battle," Aaron taunted him, and Dar-Raven steamed in anger.
"If I defeat you, do I leave untouched by your armies?" He was concerned about the outcome even though he might win.
"If you defeat me, I promise no harm will come to you. But, if I defeat you, I'll let my army finish you off so you will have to be re-created by Apollyon to be recognized." His description of his fate was well noted by Dar-Raven before he charged again.
They pushed away from each other after missing with their powerful swings. Caleb was standing near Aaron and whispered just loud enough so Aaron could hear him, "Remember how I defeated Lahim over a thousand years ago?"
Aaron didn’t at first, and then smiled. He didn’t know if he could do it, being so much larger than Caleb. It was Caleb’s acrobatic style that always impressed Aaron. He decided it was time to try. They charged each other again, but Aaron kept his head low at Dar-Raven’s knee level. Within ten feet, Aaron lifted himself up, springing from a sudden crouch. He held his sword close to him while passing over Dar-Raven’s head. As he landed on the same sky level behind Dar-Raven, he swung with all his strength, spinning in a wide circle only four feet away from Dar-Raven. The sword cut a foot into Dar-Raven’s back; severing muscle, spine, and his exposed dark wings half way up his back. Dar-Raven screamed in surprise and watched as his torso fell forwards uncontrollably. He was like a human can-top. He couldn’t heal fast enough as Aaron swung again. This time, he drove his sword down from the top in his famous way, hitting Dar-Raven’s shoulder and splitting him in two; half of his body with his head and leg while both sides fell towards earth. Dar-Raven hit the lake in his own blood spray followed by over half of Aaron’s legions. After, there was less of Dar-Raven for crappie bait than with Tare.
Aaron turned to watch his descent and saw Dar-Raven’s sword falling onto the rocky beach in a bloody clatter. He flew down, picked it up, and turned towards Irish. He instantly knew everything that took place with Gaafar and the killing chains.
When Aaron reached her, she fell against him in exhaustion, saying repeatedly, "I love you, Aaron. I love you. I love you."
Aaron picked her up; but before he carried her away, he threw Dar-Raven’s sword towards Gaafar. "Here, you deserve it. You have saved my only angel love. You've kept her safe for the New Jerusalem for me. I will always owe you. I will be back with her in an hour. Don’t leave without her."
Aaron flew off and disappeared with Irish, then appeared in heaven. He took her to her favorite pond and bathed her in the glory of its radiance. The healing streams that fed it brought her back to full rainbow colors while the presence of the Son restored her. Aaron thanked the Lord and returned her to earth to finish the journey.
Before Aaron returned, the Lord sent him a message, "Tell Grace that I'm ready for her to return. I will meet her at Hallow Cove on the lake."