Shooting Eros - The Emuna Chronicles: Complete Boxset: Books 1 - 3

by Benjamin Laskin

  “Because,” Ellen said, annoyed she even had to explain such a thing to her dimwitted cousin, “they are bad, and we are good!”

  “No,” Malkah said. “Because they couldn’t care less what you think, and we are naive morons.”

  Ellen shook her head and sighed. “You’re a lost cause.”

  Malkah flashed her cousin a big grin. “That I am. Be back in five.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the bathroom.”

  “I’ll wait right here,” Ellen said.

  “You do that.”

  Malkah pecked Ellen on the cheek and waded through the crowd of people to the other side of the lobby. She turned down a hall and walked past the restroom to a door marked ‘Staff.’ It was locked, but Malkah took out the key that Manfred the floor manager had given her for the day, knowing that she would often need to use the room during the course of the conference. He made her sign it out and promise not to forget to return it. She unlocked the door and slipped inside, locking it again behind her.

  The room, used mostly as a dressing room and for staff meetings, was empty. Malkah walked over to the locker she had been given and quickly changed back into her street clothes. She stuffed her belongings into her daypack, crossed over to the window, and opened it.

  Below, a row of manicured hedges ran the perimeter of the building. Malkah dropped to the ground in a crouch behind the hedges. Staying low, she scurried off, keeping the shrubberies between her and the paved drive that circled the mansion.

  28

  Mind Blowers

  Sett moved swiftly but cautiously through the tunnel. The stench of yetzer hung in the air. Was it fresh? He couldn’t be sure, and thought it best to assume the worst.

  Not only did Hamanaeus have a good head start on him, but he knew the tunnels backwards and forwards. Sett cursed himself for having let Hamanaeus get this far. He proceeded down the dimly lit tunnel about a hundred yards when the tunnel split off in two directions. Which way?

  He knew that every second in deliberation put more distance between him and Hamanaeus. And yet if he chose the wrong direction, there would be no way he’d ever find him. Sett palmed his beard and thought hard. If he had a coin he’d have flipped it. He berated himself. I have failed!

  “Sett!”

  “Huh?”

  “Sett! It’s Volk.”

  “What?” Sett said, certain he was hallucinating.

  “No, dumbass, you’re not hallucinating.”

  “Volk?” he said.

  “Shh, don’t speak. Just think. I can hear you.”

  “But how?”

  “Because you have arrived at the next level.”

  “I have?”

  “Congratulations.”

  “How did I do that?”

  “HaShem has found you worthy.”

  “Worthy? … Me?” Sett was stunned.

  “We wouldn’t be having this ridiculous conversation if you weren’t. Are you going to disappoint Him now?”

  “Huh? Never!”

  “Good.”

  “Where are you?” Sett asked.

  “Flying around battling Vengeance Yetzers. One to go.”

  “And you can track me?”

  “Yes, and you can do the same with Hamanaeus.”

  “Will he hear me?” Sett asked.

  “No,” Volk said. He quoted Psalms 10:4. “‘The wicked, in the pride of his face, has no room in his thoughts for God.’ But you can hear him, Sett, and if you focus your mind, you can even see him.”

  “How?”

  “Picture Hamanaeus down to the smallest detail and recall the verses, ‘The Lord looks from Heaven. He sees all the sons of men. His eyes are upon the ways of man and He sees all his goings. There is no darkness nor shadow of death where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves.’” [Psalms 33:13, Job 34:21-22]

  “But that speaks of HaShem, not a sin-stained, bush-league angel like me.”

  “That is not for you to decide!” Volk scolded. “You are an angel of God. If you are worthy, HaShem will lend you His ears and eyes.”

  Sett bowed his head, overcome with shame. “What you say is so.”

  “Good. I have to go. We have our hands full out here, Sett. Do your job and get your ass back as soon as you can!”

  “Roger that,” Sett said, a new determination in his voice.

  Sett lowered his head and cleared his mind. He followed Volk’s instructions.

  Slowly, he got a signal. It was choppy and filled with white noise, but he was sure he was on to something. He concentrated, using his active imagination to fill in the blanks. Hamanaeus began to come into focus. Sett’s image of him was similar to that of an X-ray or sonogram. Although crude and ghostlike, and Hamanaeus’s thoughts muddled and slurry, Sett knew that it was him all right.

  The Anteros leader was still proceeding in a frantic limp down a tunnel. He came to an iron door. Sett heard the number ‘25’ in Hamanaeus’s thoughts. Hamanaeus yanked open the heavy metal door, and then slammed it shut behind him.

  Sett looked up at the wall in front of where the tunnel split off. Nailed to it was a sign with two arrows. The one pointing right said 1-39, and the arrow pointing left read 2-40. Odds and evens. Yes!

  He took off in a sprint, running as fast as he could. To his relief, the tunnel ahead seemed clear of Anteros soldiers. He wasn’t picking up any of their thoughts, anyway. He raced on.

  The tunnel began to curve. Sett rounded the bend and found himself charging straight towards the back of a two-legged, lobster-clawed, chameleon-faced Up-to-the-Minute Yetzer. Mind-reading, he realized, didn’t extend to yetzers.

  The yetzer turned its bug-eyed, scissor-toothed face to look. It was as startled as Sett was. Sett, however, was determined not to lose chase by having to battle the yetzer in a drawn-out fight. He had to get by it as quickly as possible.

  Instead of slowing, he dashed full speed towards the creature, unsheathing his diamond-edged wakizashi short sword as he ran. When he got within claws’ reach, he dropped sliding between the big yetzer’s legs, his sword slicing across one of its Achilles tendons as he went. He heard a gruesome-sounding—snap!—followed by a howl of agony as the monster buckled to the ground. Sett popped back onto his feet, and not bothering to look back, charged on, the beast’s yowls echoing down the tunnel after him.

  Sett reached the door marked ‘25,’ and as he paused to catch his breath, he searched for Hamanaeus’s thoughts. They came in loud and clear now. Having secured Hamanaeus’s location, Sett drew his mind closer and was able to see what Hamanaeus saw.

  The Anteros leader was in some sort of command center just behind the iron door. The door was bolted; there would be no opening it from the outside. Hamanaeus had a demon duster on his lap as he sat in a swivel chair and observed the battle taking place outside the main compound on a series of monitors. Sett sensed from him both fury and trepidation.

  Hamanaeus hit a switch, lighting up another series of monitors inside the tunnels. He leaned forward in his chair, and with a remote, enlarged the images on one of the monitors. He spotted the yowling Up-to-the-Minute Yetzer vainly trying to get back to its feet. Feverishly, Hamanaeus continued to search the tunnel. He spotted something, or someone. He punched at the remote trying to magnify the blurry, whirling image. He felt a cool breeze on the back of his neck. It was odd, but he was focused on the monitor.

  “Hello, Esquire.”

  “Huh?” Hamanaeus exclaimed, startled out of his wits. He whipped around in his chair, gun extended.

  Sett caught Hamanaeus’s wrist in his powerful grip, twisted it, and forced him to drop the gun, while with his other hand he stuck the tip of his sword under Hamanaeus’s chin.

  “It’s over,” Sett said. “You failed.”

  “Wrong, Commander. My death won’t stop what is already in motion. I will live on through my work.”

  “Sorry, Esquire, but your work has been a colossal waste of time, and it will do you no good at a
ll in hell.”

  “It’s not too late for you, Commander,” Hamanaeus scoffed. “Join me and rule for an eternity. You don’t want to be stuck down here in the real hell, trapped on Earth with these foul humans and their stinking fear demons.”

  “Order your men to surrender,” Sett commanded. “Now!”

  Hamanaeus ignored him. “How did you get in here? I know you found some trick to making yourselves invisible, but you can’t pass through solid walls!”

  “The same way I’ll be getting back to Heaven to kick the asses of the rest of you.”

  “What kind of a fool do you take me for, Sett? I’m always one step ahead of you dolts. You’ll never be going back. I’ve banished you forever, whether I’m here or not.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “My commanders there have orders to blow the disgronifiers should either their mission or mine be compromised. If I go, you stay. For eternity!” Hamanaeus smiled with deep satisfaction. “Got it? Now, kindly step away and surrender your sword.”

  “I don’t think so, Mr. Ham-man. We don’t need no stinking disgronifier. Now, get on your horn and order your troops to stand down immediately, or I ram this blade through your chin and out the back of your head.”

  Hamanaeus groaned wearily. “Oh, please, Commander. No disgronifier, no way back. It’s that simple.”

  With the tip of his sword that was still under Hamanaeus’s chin, Sett directed the Anteros commander’s eyes to one of the monitors displaying the battle that was waging outside the compound.

  Hamanaeus witnessed with astonishment as two cupid commandos simultaneously thrust out their palms and blasted an enormous Ego Yetzer from its feet, sending the verminous creature soaring from view. He picked it up again on the next monitor and saw the fear demon come crashing down on a group of Anteros soldiers, squashing them.

  “Whoa,” Sett said to himself, amazed by what Ophion and Nisus had done. “We can do that?”

  “What kind of weapon was that?” Hamanaeus demanded. “How did—?”

  What they witnessed next was even more astonishing. Cupid soldiers, paired up and palms out before them, marched forward in tandem, mysteriously sweeping the field clean before their advance. Anteros soldiers and yetzers tumbled backwards as if smacked by a gale force wind.

  “What are they doing?” Hamanaeus shouted with dismay.

  “What comes natural to them,” Sett answered.

  “What? Don’t be absurd. Where is that coming from? How did you get such a gizmo down here?”

  “Baruch HaShem!” Sett said, glad to the brink of tears. “It is so. Angels of God!”

  “What are you babbling about?” Hamanaeus said, furious.

  “Up,” Sett ordered, lifting Hamanaeus from his chair with the point of his sword.

  Hamanaeus rose, his chin in the air, his face scrunched in pain and fear. In one swift motion, Sett returned his sword to its scabbard and swept Hamanaeus from his feet and onto his broad shoulders. He began to whirl.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” Hamanaeus squealed. His legs and arms flailed in panic, but it was only seconds before Sett’s velocity silenced the Anteros leader into nauseous resignation, and he passed out.

  29

  Cleaning Clock

  The three armies attacked at once, swarming down from the gentle, wooded hills that surrounded the Academy.

  Jason charged his army from the east, his second and third in commands, commandos Deimos and Styx, right behind him. Perseus marched from the west. With him were Lieutenant Chiron and Corporal Sparta, and an army made up of highly trained cupid turncoats. Invading from the south, at the head of a company of Anteros’s best fighters, stormed Commando Ajax.

  The armies expected little to no resistance. Their initial surprise had taken out the cupids’ best fighters. Cupids captured during Anteros’s devastating march had informed the Anteros soldiers that the Academy was occupied only by cadets, and not even the cream of the crop. As for the celestials, they had been equally caught off guard and posed no threat. To Perseus’s disgust, most of them had been brutally ravaged by the Anteros troops. They were left wailing half-naked along the sides of roads, in alleys, behind buildings, and on the floors of homes and shops, now all charred ruins.

  The Anteros forces were counting on storming straight into the heart of the Academy, and so they were surprised to find that the central avenues had been barricaded with barbed wire and all manner of debris. Their scouts had reported no such barriers. Clearly, the moronic cadets had only just decided to make a last stand.

  No shots had yet been fired from inside the Academy. Only once the Anteros soldiers had been commanded to tear apart the barricades did sniper fire begin to ring out from rooftops and classroom, dormitory, and administration windows.

  The commanders ordered their troops to answer the attack with shoulder-launching rockets and Vulcan Gatling guns. Thousands of rounds of exploding splicer bullets ripped at the Academy’s windows and rooftops. Chunks of brick and plaster fell crashing to the ground. The barrage forced the cupid cadets to take cover, and silenced their firing.

  Shielded by the onslaught, the Anteros soldiers returned to dismantling the barricades. They also sent squads of soldiers to charge the Academy grounds via footpaths that led into the center of the campus.

  A burst of sparkling, ruby-red light flashed slicing through the air towards Jason’s army, followed by a scream.

  “What the fuck was that?!” Jason shouted.

  “Sir, something just took out a rocket launcher. The thing melted!”

  “Huh?”

  “Sir, it ate up the soldier’s arm!”

  Then came another glittering, red stream of light, followed by another scream.

  “There!” Jason yelled, pointing towards the clock tower. “It came from up there!”

  Another soldier ran up. “Sir, they just took out the Gatling gun.”

  A squad of Perseus’s commandos charged through a garden path between two buildings. The coast looked clear, but just as they were to break out onto the main campus, they suddenly disappeared into a meter-deep trench that had been hastily dug from wall to wall, and camouflaged. The floor and sides of the trench were lined with barbed wire.

  The soldiers tumbled in, and immediately half a dozen cadets appeared from around the corner. The cadets’ rifles set on automatic, they emptied their weapons into the trench as the commandos scrambled frantically to climb out, the barbed wire ripping at their hands and knees. Within seconds the commandos were all dead. The cadets cheered and raised their rifles in victory.

  Similar ploys played out on the east and west fronts. When news of the ambushes reached the commanders, they were furious.

  “Sons of bitches!” fumed Ajax. “You there,” he hollered. “Keep tearing down that barricade. “You, you, and you,” he ordered. “You’re with me!”

  “Yes, Sir!” the soldiers answered.

  As Ajax was about to make another assault through the same pathway with his three commandos, a thin, brilliant, ruby beam zapped into the center of his troops, taking out a soldier and his shoulder-held rocket launcher.

  “What the fuck!” Ajax roared. He looked wildly around to see where the ray of light had come from.

  “It came from up there!” cried one of the soldiers.

  “Take ‘em out!”

  “I got ‘em!” said the soldier in charge of the Vulcan Gatling gun. He directed the gun at the clock tower, but after an initial burst of fire, another blast of the strange red beam turned weapon and soldier to steaming ooze.

  “Faster!” Ajax shouted to the soldiers dismantling the barricade. Two more of his men crumpled onto the barbed wired mound of junk, hit by cadet sharpshooters. “Keep at it!” he ordered the soldiers. He turned to his commandos. “Come on!” He tore off towards the pathway.

  Hera peered through her binoculars. “Bull’s-eye!” she exclaimed. “Now swing to the west. I see a marked shoulder-launcher behind the big oak tree.”


  Grace swiveled the mounted spleen gun and looked through the sight. “I don’t… Wait… There he is…” She took careful aim, and squeezed the trigger.

  The gun sent a burst of streaming, crimson particles towards the target. The molecules carried microscopic amounts of spleen venom, but more than enough of the deadly elixir to eat through anything or anyone it painted.

  “Got him!” Hera confirmed.

  “Where to next?”

  A fusillade of photons and splicer bullets splashed at the clock tower.

  “Get down!” Grace cried.

  The two celestials dropped to the floor behind a lead shield that the recruits had placed along the wall when they set up the spleen gun the previous day. The barrage continued for a full minute.

  “Are you okay?” Grace asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Here, put this on,” Grace said, handing Hera her helmet. “And this.” She slid off her vest and stuffed it into the arms of the young celestial. “They’re better than nothing.”

  Hera did as told. “What about you?”

  “We only have one.”

  “But—”

  “That’s an order,” Grace said with finality. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Good girl.” The two carefully rose and peered over the edge of the wall. Hera put the binoculars to her eyes and scanned again for the fluorescent red paint smeared on the weapons and their operators. “See anything?” Grace asked, getting back behind the spleen gun.

  “No…I think they’re on to us.”

  “They know we’re aiming for their artillery, but there is no way they can know how we spot it,” Grace said.

  Hera swept the forces below with her glasses. “Madam Grace,” she said, alarmed. “They are going to breach the barricades any minute. We have to stop them!”

  “If I shoot at the barricades I’d be melting them down for them,” Grace said. “Keep looking for the heavy weapons.”

  Hera continued searching, then shouted, “Found one! No…two! To the west. Quick, they are on the move. The soldiers are taking them towards the footpaths to storm the campus. The weapons are shielded by a dozen commandos.”