The Rising

by L F Seitz

  “Did Micah happen to tell you that we were attacked on the night of the trial by three Cambions?” I asked, crossing my arms as Micah stepped into the room, glaring at me as I watched Hamon’s expression, which was filled with surprise.

  “No, he didn’t,” Leo said, straightening from where he’d been leaning against the kitchen counter.

  “Yeah, he told no one.” I glared back at him as I continued talking. “We were attacked in the middle of the street. Two went for Micah, and one went for me. I killed that one and then killed another that was on top of Micah. He was knocked unconscious and bleeding to death. I carried him all the way here and healed him and cleaned him up. He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.” I gave him a warning look, like the ones he always gave me. “If you tell Jimiah anything, I will tell him this, and he will be upset he is the last to know.”

  We stared at each other as everyone else waited on the edge of their seats for Micah’s reaction. He pulled his phone from his ear and hung up the call.

  “We need to talk. Privately.” His voice was calm as he gestured to the bedroom. Once we were inside, he slammed the door and spun around to me.

  “Do not threaten me,” he said, his voice low as he stepped closer.

  I took a breath as I rubbed my forehead. I was done fighting with him. “Then don’t do this to me. Don’t shut me out when I’ve come so far.”

  “I don’t think you’re ready.”

  “I know that’s a lie.” I gritted my teeth. “This is probably something about wanting to protect me, but it’s because you’re scared.”

  His glare cut through me, and I knew I was only making this worse. I forced myself to take a few breaths. I couldn’t blow up at him; it would only make him shut me out more. Since the beginning, it had always, somehow, been about Micah. What he thought of me, what he could tell me, how he could help me. I always made it about him. At the edge of this great unknown, I finally wanted it to be about me. I wanted to prove to myself that I was more than some ordinary foster kid. I wanted to use what I know and who I am to fight for justice. I wanted this, and I couldn’t let Micah stand in the way of that. Not this time.

  “Since we met, back in November, I have done whatever you’ve asked. When you stayed here and asked me a million questions, I answered. You told me I’d be helping you with the bookstore woman, and I did. I helped you with Orias, though it marked me in ways I’ll never forget. I interrogated Asmodeus and nearly died. I basically went on trial by your people and was nearly executed because they don’t trust me, because I’m dangerous. But they’re willing to let me prove myself. I’ve endured assault. We have trained – not for long, maybe two weeks, but you have to let me try. The Council agreed to let me fight. Now it all comes down to your word, as my guardian.” I wasn’t above begging for this chance. He looked as exhausted and strung out as I felt. “I want this so bad, Micah, I can taste it. I need this, for me.”

  Micah shook his head. “Lamia, please,” he said, sounding almost pained. “You don’t realize how terrible of a job I’m doing as your guardian. Twice now, I have failed to keep you from harm. I’m – I need to keep you safe, not put you directly into harm’s way.” Micah was afflicted. He crossed his arms and rested his forehead against his hand.

  “There is no safer place for me than next to you,” I whispered, taking a step closer to him. “Please, let me come with you. Please let me fight alongside you,” I pleaded with him. “I’ve never asked you for anything else.”

  He said nothing as he rubbed his forehead before pushing his hand through his hair. Something about last night shook him, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. The day before, he was on board with me fighting, and now he’s against it. I couldn’t wait any longer. I couldn’t let Micah be the one who decided my fate.

  I moved to the door, my fire mixed with the pain as the words pooled in my mouth. “Just know, though: you make me stay here, and you will lose me, Micah.” His eyes found mine as I held the doorknob. “I won’t be here when you get back.”

  I walked out of the room wordlessly as I went into the kitchen and picked up my coffee again, taking a long sip. No one said anything, and I didn’t have the gall to turn around and face them, not without knowing Micah’s decision.

  “I don’t know what you’ve planned entirely, Hamon, but Lamia will be my partner tonight. Anyone have any objections?” Micah’s voice carried through the room. I turned to find him looking at his three comrades, his coffee in one hand and his other hand in his pocket.

  Hamon shook his head as he stood looking out the window. “We will be meeting at the midway point at dusk, out at a park and ride near Highway 20. Once we’re given the go-ahead, as a convoy of six teams, we’ll make our way to the baseball park.”

  I watched Micah as Hamon explained tonight’s itinerary, he was focused on Hamon. I knew he could sense me looking at him, but something told me the threat I’d made, about him losing me, was the wrong call. He wasn’t going to forgive me easily for it.

  “There will already be several reconnaissance teams scouting ahead, searching for the tunnel entrances, most likely in the basement,” Hamon continued. “Our Bravo teams will be moving in after that, camping up high with crossbows to attack from the skies. We, as Charlie teams, will be moving in once we get the signal. Our job is to invade the floors in direct contact with the field, which would be the second and third floors. Take up secure positions and wait for the flood. Most of the tunnels under the stadium lead to the field, so we’ll be in the jaws of the beast.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip as I listened to the information, not having known that we were going to be in the thick of it. I mean, I was sure we’d see some fighting, but being in the middle of it all – that was a whole other story. I didn’t let it show on my face as I continued to listen, hoping no one saw my surprise.

  “Delta and Echo teams are coordinating both ground floor and exterior security and invasion. We also have rover teams, who will be between one or two klicks away, taking out stranglers or abandoners. Drones will be watching from above, providing them with intel and heat signatures.” As Hamon explained, I couldn’t help but compare these teams and this whole establishment to the military. The lingo he used was similar to what I’d heard in movies like G.I. Jane and Full Metal Jacket. They used military time. The teams reminded me of squads.

  “Did they ever get an estimate on what we’re dealing with?” Micah asked, but Hamon shook his head.

  “There was one rumor that said more than a thousand, but we think that was just to generate fear,” Hamon said. Micah then asked if they decided whether command was going to have air strike as a last resort.

  “Too messy. They decided against it,” said Hamon. “If the rovers get overrun, they’ll notify the Counsel, who I guess have a protocol with the nearest National Guard. No one below Alpha team was at liberty to hear or discuss the protocol. I know the code name though: Agent Orange.”

  Everyone was quiet as we each retreated into our own heads. The information we were just given was a lot, and I wasn’t the only one who thought so. I looked to Micah, who was now staring at his cup. He looked impassive about the whole thing.

  “OK, cool, I’m going to take a shower,” I said.

  I focused on the floor as I passed Micah to grab clean clothes from my room. Once I had what I needed, I took the duffle Hamon had given me and opened it, noticing some of the weapons he’d given me.

  “Why don’t the Nephilim use guns? Seems easier,” I said.

  Hamon was the first one to look up. “It’s difficult to make firearms with the way Nephilim bless our weapons. They are blessed externally with a specific liquid. Something about how the bullet rubs against the barrel, it strips the bullet of the supernatural ability. We also use our angelic essence to enhance that blessing, which can not be done with a bullet. There are a few guns, but they are rare and don’t always work. Blades are precise and more absolute.”

  I closed the bathroom door be
hind myself. The nerves spasmed under my skin like electrical shocks. I regarded myself in the mirror. I looked like I always did, but something in my eyes was distant, something I didn’t recognize. I wonder if that’s what Micah was looking at this morning when he first woke. I wonder if he wasn’t seeing me but something else, something darker.

  I shook off the fears and let the hot water burn away my nerves, focusing on building the courage I needed for tonight. I hoped Micah would forgive me by then, or if he hadn’t, at least pretend to for the sake of our lives.

  “And so,

  being young and dipt in folly,

  I fell in love with melancholy.”

  – Edgar Allan Poe

  ✽✽✽

  As night crept closer, the team made their way out of my living room and out of the complex to the SUV. I was the last one in my apartment, alone. I filled the cats’ food dishes and the water bowl and left a message for the landlord, telling him I’d be back in two days, but if not, to feed my cats. If something happened to me, it would be apparent. He would eventually notice I wasn’t coming back and give them away to someone. A good family. I walked into my room and picked up Nox, who meowed as I cuddled him in my arms.

  “Play nice with your brother,” I whispered and kissed his head. I put him down as Lux walked over and sat next to my leg.

  “You take care of him,” I instructed, petting him. This apartment was not the greatest, but it’s my home, my only home, the only one I truly had. I hoped I come back to see it, but if not, I hoped the next occupant would take care of it.

  I had built up my front this morning in the shower, so there was no sadness, no tears, as I closed the door behind me. I was going to be like everyone else because I was a part of this team, and they were counting on me.

  Twenty-Nine.

  I OPENED THE BACK DOOR on the passenger’s side to get in. Hamon was driving with Laylah in the passenger seat, then Zachriel and Leo in the next row, and in the back corner was Micah. Which left a spot for me beside him. I crawled in and put my seat belt on as Hamon took off to the rendezvous point.

  It was a quiet drive into the last of the setting sun. We still had an hour or so before dusk, but I noticed a change in the team as time went on. Zachriel and Laylah had earbuds in, and everyone else listened to the rock music Hamon had put on the radio, but no one was really listening. Micah rested his chin on his hand as he stared out the window, in a daze since this morning, and I knew it was because of me. He didn’t really leave me much of a choice, and though I would rather be here than at home waiting to hear how it had gone, I felt as if I were more alone now.

  After thirty minutes of driving, we pulled into the park and ride by the interstate. It was empty, aside from four other black SUVs with tinted windows. Not suspicious at all. Hamon got out and walked over to the lead SUV to speak with someone. I turned to Micah, who was unchanged by our stop. I surveyed him for a long time, hoping he would at least get annoyed with me staring and tell me to stop or glare at me, but he remained unmoved.

  “Are you going to talk to me?” I whispered.

  He said nothing. He had to know I was nervous about all of this. His behavior had to be revenge for how I acted. I wanted to go so badly I threatened him, and now I was going to have to deal with the emotional repercussions alone.

  “Were moving early. The reconnaissance group is apparently going in now.” Hamon sounded annoyed as he jumped in and threw on his seatbelt.

  I knew the park was in Milwaukee, so we would be in the car awhile, enough time for my nerves to unravel completely in the silent tension. I kept peeking at Micah and everyone else, but there was no one but my frantic thoughts to keep my company. After what felt like eternity, I finally got myself to relax among the others in the quiet: coaching myself with a few breathing techniques I came up with on my own and games to play to get my mind off the road ahead. I went through the alphabet as we passed signs, finding a word that started with each one to keep me busy.

  Hamon’s ringing phone caught me off guard. He answered as he drove, and everyone seemed to be on the edge of their seats waiting for news. “The recon team went in, but all their communication went offline, so this will be a hot drop.” Hamon’s voice was suddenly emotionless as he stepped on the gas.

  All my coaching went to hell as I tried to keep myself from hyperventilating. This is happening way too fast. I sucked in my bottom lip, gnawing on the skin as I wiped my sweaty palms on my knees. I put my hand on the seat and accidently touched Micah’s hand lying there. I glanced over to see him still as stone. I knew I should pull away, but I needed an anchor. I needed him, even if he didn’t want to be there for me. I curled my fingers around his, the coolness giving me some footing. It gave me comfort as I tried to keep myself from flying off the handle.

  The SUV took off, swerving around cars as we all remained still in the stagnant air. Everything was about to hit the fan, and the thought of death was in the back of everyone’s minds. As we took the off-ramp toward the baseball Park, Micah’s fingers curled around mine. I couldn’t help but look at him. He remained the same as he stared out the window, his chin rested on his hand. For the first time, his robotic distance was comforting. He was himself. He wasn’t scared or overbearing. He was being Micah, and that made me feel better.

  “ETA is three minutes,” Hamon said to everyone in the car. The silence shifted as everyone unbuckled their seatbelts to be ready when we stopped and double-checked their weapons. I followed suit as I pulled off my seatbelt and made sure my tactical vest was on correctly and all my knives were as I had left them: my personal knife on my right hip, my machete and short sword on my back, and my throwing blades across my front. I swallowed hard as I resorted back to my training, going over the moves in my mind. If I follow Micah, I’ll be OK. If I’m with Micah, I’ll survive. Hamon raced through the parking lot behind the other SUVs toward the baseball stadium. All the streetlamps above were off, and the security lights on the outside of the building were out. The darkness it created was incredibly eerie. It was too dark, too ominous. The two SUVs ahead of us turned left, making their way along the giant brick concrete and steel structure. We slowed down twenty feet from a door as the other SUVs kept going. Hamon muttered that every vehicle would take a separate entrance inside.

  Hamon brought us to a jarring stop, and everyone immediately hopped out of the car. The chilly wind felt good against my sweaty skin. We moved in sets of twos, Micah and I being last as we jogged toward a set of double doors. All my muscles were clenched as I followed as close beside Micah as I could without jumping on his back. Everyone had their blades out, and I unsheathed mine, praying I wasn’t stupid enough to trip and impale myself with it.

  “Charlie 12 entering on the northeast side,” Hamon whispered clicking a button on the microphone banded around his neck, a black wire curved around his ear and into a bud in his right ear.

  Leo and Hamon peeked inside through the glass doors, before nodding to Zachriel and Laylah, who held open the doors and watched our backs as we moved in. Inside, the atmosphere was ghostly: there was no wind, the air was completely still.

  Everything was made of exposed steel beams and concrete. The ceiling was over twenty feet high just inside the building, with windows covering the entire exterior wall. I couldn’t see where it all ended, since the moon was new, and my eyes had not yet adjusted to the light, leaving everything within the building shadowed in darkness. There were barricades stacked on either side of the entrance, probably used for crowd control, and pamphlets covered the information desks. The absence of people created a haunting ambiance as we made our way toward the escalators, which were also turned off. We moved almost soundlessly across the large foyer- not even our breathing was detectable.

  In the immense stillness, I noticed my body was shaking, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of fear or anticipation. The group moved quickly ahead, and I tried to mimic their movements while keeping an eye out for surprises. Hamon was whispering to
us, but my pulse was so loud in my head that I couldn’t hear. Something about the southeast corridor. Everyone started running through the lobby and up the stairs, leaving me behind.

  “Lamia,” Micah whispered harshly as I sprinted to meet him. I followed behind him as we continued across the foyer. Micah held his blade in front of him as I held mine out behind, covering us from both sides. I finally adjusted to the dark as we got to the stadium seating just before the field. It was a story up from the main floor, where we were told to be.

  I scanned the area around us as my breath turned to steam, and I noticed the stadium roof was open. In winter? No one acted too concerned about it. I moved closer to Micah and noticed familiar symbols on the cement pillars around us, like the ones he drew in my apartment the night he tortured Orias. They were to prevent sound from leaving a specific area. I guess battles were quite loud, with the sounds of people dying.

  From the stairs, we had to make it through the curved hallways filled with permanent concession counters and eating areas. The amount of food options here was beyond ridiculous; I almost thought we’d be lost in them forever. From burgers to brats, beer, ice cream, nachos, and anything else you’d think to stuff your face with at a ball game. There were a few shops, but they were all locked up with roll down aluminum shutters. A few hallways led into darkness, giving me the creeps, but Hamon never slowed as we continued forward. Finally, we came upon the lowest stadium section seating, closest to the field. I stood behind Micah as we walked toward the stairs. At the bottom, it came to a two-foot concrete wall with metal bar barriers coming up to the waist.

  “Damn it, communications are down. Spread out, keep with the plan,” Hamon whispered. “Meet on the Brewers dugout.”

  We remained in our pairings, divided by three sets of steps. Hamon and Leo went to the center stadium seating, Laylah and Zachriel moved to the far right, and Micah and I moved to the left.