Earth Sentinels Collection

by Elizabeth M Herrera

  The circular flight deck contained two captain’s chairs near the instrument panel and four passenger seats at the rear. Small round windows were evenly spaced around the circumference of the cockpit, offering a panoramic view of dismal Hagsmar.

  “Sit down,” Monatec instructed, taking his position at the controls, pressing several buttons. The humming sound increased. Haruto floated above the floor, not needing to sit. Bechard had barely taken his seat before the hovercraft zoomed straight up, shooting over the valley toward a black mountain with jagged peaks.

  A few minutes later, the hovercraft touched down.

  Oxair got out of his seat, motioning for everyone to follow him outside. He led them on a short jaunt to the base of the mountain. Here, a buzzing sound was heard, although neither Haruto or Bechard could determine where it was coming from. The fallen angel stepped closer to the cragged wall, placing his hand inside a stone crevice, touching a hidden sensor pad. The buzzing sound ceased, and a secret door began moving inside the mountain, churning up dust as it crept along. When the door came to a stop, Oxair walked through the opening, followed by the others.

  At the far end of the cavern, the Destiny Stone’s light shone through the seams of the ancient chest, causing the crystal-covered walls and low-hanging stalactites to sparkle like fresh-fallen snow in the moonlight. Golden statues of angels prayed over the gilded lid.

  Oxair stopped halfway. “From here, we take no responsibility for your well-being.”

  Bechard and Haruto nodded, indicating they understood the dangers of the stone’s powers.

  Both of Abaddon’s soldiers crossed their arms, waiting for the deed to be done.

  “I’ll do it alone,” Haruto told Bechard. “It’s safer for me.”

  He agreed by lifting his chin, but felt concern for her safety.

  Oxair and Monatec curiously observed the proceedings, hoping for the worst.

  Haruto floated in front of the chest. She hesitated a moment because she was afraid of the stone’s powers, but she gathered her courage and touched the lid with her vaporous hand. Nothing unusual was felt. Either her ethereal state protected her or the chest did, or both. Now all Haruto had to do was transport the precious cargo to the Mammoth Cave in Alteria. “Bechard?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll meet you there.” Haruto and the chest disappeared.

  Bechard was right behind her.

  Killing the Dracos

  THE SUPREME LEADER’S bedroom resembled a large cave. And perhaps it was. Here, Zycar lay on a king-sized bed with twisting and snarling snakes, dragons and gargoyles carved into the wooden headboard—all devouring humans. The bed cover, a heavy tapestry, was pulled snug over his slumbering body. His long white plumage of hair hung over his pillow. Curved ram-like horns extended out of both sides of his head. His scaly face hung loose from age. Some of his pointed teeth protruded over his bony lips that were open in the midst of a snore. He was blissfully unaware Zachary had escorted Abaddon into his private chambers.

  Invisible, Abaddon examined the sparse room, paying special attention to the shadows where a guard might lurk. After deeming it safe, he nodded to Zachary, giving him the signal to transform themselves from the unseen into a semi-transparent state. Now both ghostly, Zachary let the ruler’s sword become physical.

  Abaddon raised his weapon, ready to strike at Zycar’s neck, seeming to savor the moment.

  The Draco’s red eyes flashed open, his slitted pupils wide at the sight of the sword hovering above his head, held by the spectral fallen angel. But the Supreme Leader didn’t scream, in fact, he showed no fear as he accused his assassin in a raspy voice, “Coward!”

  Abaddon would have loved to duel his nemesis, if only to quell the reptilian’s pride, but too much was at stake, so instead he sneered, “Zycar, die!”

  The sword cut through the air.

  Zycar raised his thick-skinned arms to protect his throat while rolling out of the way. The sword cut off one of his hands and slashed the side of his throat. For humans, this would have led to a quick death, but not for the Draco whose jugular vein ran down the center of his neck.

  The Supreme Leader escaped from the bed, his feet hitting the floor. Blue blood ran down his chest and spurted out of his wounded arm. His red eyes glared with anger. He didn’t expect to win a fight against an ethereal being, but he did intend to stall his death long enough to issue a warning via the hive mind. His intention worked. The highest-ranking Draco leaders heard Zycar’s thoughts clearly while the lowest ones sensed something was wrong, even if they couldn’t quite put their fears into words.

  The bedroom door burst open. Two reptilian guards rushed in with their lasers drawn. They spotted the intruders and opened fire, but the laser beams zipped through the ethereal bodies with no impact.

  “Move with me,” Abaddon instructed Zachary as he stepped closer to Zycar. The young man followed, careful not to lose touch of the fallen angel, who shouted with vengeance, “Die!” plunging his sword into the Draco’s heart. The reptilian leader fell to his knees. A moment later, his body collapsed onto the floor.

  The guards threw down their laser guns, pulling out handheld devices from their gun belts. The weapons sent powerful beams of energy that struck Abaddon and Zachary, but only impacted the young man whose mind went blank. He couldn’t see, or hear, or think.

  Even though Abaddon’s mind was too strong to be overpowered, the fallen angel became physical when Zachary was unable to concentrate. To protect himself, the ruler rushed toward the guards, swinging his sword at their necks, cutting off both of their heads with one blow. Their bodies crumpled, and the mind-control devices dropped from their lifeless hands.

  The beams of energy ceased.

  Zachary’s mind cleared. Unfortunately, the first thing he saw was the two decapitated guards lying on the floor in pools of blue blood and their severed heads nearby. A pair of dead red eyes stared directly at him. He gagged.

  “Take me to the next in command!” Abaddon demanded, disgusted by the young man’s softness.

  Trying his best not to vomit, Zachary reached for him. They both disappeared.

  The military control center was filled with holographic surveillance monitors manned by hybrid soldiers.

  The three Draco leaders, who sat in the high-backed chairs in the center, heard Zycar’s warning echoing throughout the hive mind. They stood up, walking in unison across the floor to a curved glass door, which spun open. They stepped inside a circular safe room. The glass door reeled shut, and a force field became active, but not before the invisible Zachary and Abaddon emerged in the midst of the control center.

  Abaddon silently said to his escort, Make me a ghost. I want them to see me.

  Zachary transformed him from an invisible state into a semi-transparent one, continuing to hold onto the ruler who smiled with anticipation as he glided toward the safe room. On the other side of the glass door, one of the Draco leaders was seen pushing a button. A toxic mist streamed out of the ceiling in the main room. The intent was to kill the invaders, but it was only the soldiers who gasped for air.

  As a last measure, the Draco leaders pulled out their laser guns, aiming at the fallen angel through the glass, but the beams shot through Abaddon’s shadowy figure without any effect. A look of resignation crept across the reptilians’ faces.

  Abaddon drifted through the glass door, hovering before the leaders who were trapped inside like goldfish in a bowl. He nodded at Zachary, who caused the ruler’s airy sword to become physical. The refined steel was thrust through the chest of one of the Dracos, who made no sound as blue blood gushed out of his wound. The reptilian simply stared at Abaddon with fierce hate until he succumbed to his mortal injury, dropping to the floor. Then the fallen angel thrust his sword through the next leader, and then the next.

  Abaddon gloated over his kills a moment before saying to Zachary, “Make my sword a ghost so I can remove it.”

  The young man did as he was asked.

/>   The ghostly ruler floated out of the safe room. It was then he noticed an image on one of the holographic monitors on the other side of the control center. He sailed over the dying soldiers to take a closer look. Zachary moved beside him. Hovering in front of the holographic monitor, Abaddon saw a satellite transmission of warships carrying fighter jets, heading north. A terrible realization struck him. Frustrated that he could not see Zachary, he shouted in all directions, “Take me back to Hagsmar! Now!”

  But what about the mission? Zachary asked, unsure of how to proceed.

  “You fool! I must prepare for war! Depart! Now!”

  But if we just finish this, the humans will be free, and—

  “I don’t give a damn about the humans! Leave! Now!”

  Hagsmar Prepares for War

  ON THE TARMAC, fallen angels, wearing armor over their black robes, scurried in and around the fleet of silver hovercraft as they prepared for war.

  Abaddon boldly strode across the way. In his arms, he held scrolls that were tightly rolled and bound with leather straps. Two trusted soldiers kept pace beside him. When the ruler reached a well-used hovercraft, he looked back at his castle on the hill as if it might be the last time he saw his kingdom. He said to his soldiers, “I will unleash hell, and you will protect our domain. Understood?”

  “Yes, my lord,” both of the soldiers answered.

  Abaddon expertly made his way through the hatch, tucking his wings. He went to the cockpit, settling into the pilot seat.

  The humming hovercraft shot straight up into the air, speeding over the land, quickly moving out of sight.

  Plan B

  SYNEGE, WHO STOOD in the center of the council members, stated, “It’s deeply disappointing the fallen angels did not finish killing the Dracos and UN leaders. But, like them, we have to deal with the human armies advancing toward Hagsmar, because if the humans win that battle, they will invade here next, destroying all of inner earth. But we are prepared to stop them. We have stationed troops near the Great Magna Divide to prevent the Dracos’ forces from crossing over. Unfortunately, the fallen angels will not allow our armies to enter their territory—that would lessen the threat considerably.”

  “What about the opening at the South Pole?” Zachary asked. “Can’t the human armies enter there as well?”

  “Normally, yes, but, fortunately, it’s wintertime in the southern hemisphere. The Antarctica’s subzero temperatures not only freezes fuel, it also causes metal to become brittle. There are logistical problems as well, such as the brutal winds, which cause plane engines to burn more fuel and fly unsteadily as their wings threaten to snap off—few, if any, would make it to the Great Opening. Driving is even more hazardous than flying, and not really an option since it is impossible to drive down the nearly vertical tunnel. However, to be on the safe side, we have stationed a squadron near the opening. Armed with electromagnetic pulse devices, they will be able to disable any planes that try to enter there.”

  Haruto solemnly commented, “We’re about to kill the same people we’re trying to save.”

  The sanctuary became quiet.

  “A sad irony,” Synege affirmed. “I wish we had better answers, but with the EMPs, we should be able to stop the army planes without too much bloodshed.”

  A bright glow appeared outside the crystal walls. A rainbow of colors refracted through the thick quartz as a ball of light entered the sanctuary. Once inside, it split into the familiar five orbs, which spoke in unison, “Forgive our intrusion, dear council, but we have an urgent message.”

  Synege steeled herself. “Proceed.”

  “The human armies have bombed the pyramids of Giza, and are headed toward the other sacred vortexes as we speak.”

  The small Arcturian’s shoulders slumped as she lamented, “Mankind has no sense of self-preservation.”

  The talking head, Phosulent, concurred, “True. Humans have always been slaves and know nothing of freedom. They blindly follow whoever claims to be their master, remaining unaware that by destroying their history, they are destroying the last remaining clues to their origins.”

  Synege raised her shoulders. “You’re right. They just don’t know any better.”

  Tom shook his head, tired of the never-ending complications. “Now we have two problems.”

  “True, but,” Bechard pointed out, “both can be fixed by using the EMPs.”

  “Yes,” Synege agreed. She spoke directly to the Earth Sentinels, “With your ability to instantly transport yourselves anywhere, you could use the EMPs to quickly disable all of the military weaponry around the planet.”

  Zachary, Haruto, Tom and Cecile were concerned they were being volunteered to attack the military bases worldwide, but no one else seemed to notice their concern.

  Geet cautioned, “That’s fine, but we need to be strategic about it. We can’t disable everything in sight. It would set the humans back a hundred years. Their computers would be fried. TVs, radios, cars and trucks, and phones—all useless. How would we communicate with them? Provide food? Eventually the electricity will be turned on. It would be nice if their communication devices worked.” The mouse on his shoulder tilted his head, waiting for an answer.

  Bechard suggested, “If we tighten the EMPs’ range, we will avoid hitting the surrounding infrastructure needed by the humans to get back on their feet.”

  “Focus solely on the bases?” Synege reiterated, shaking her head. “That will take considerably longer than a broader strike.”

  “Yes, but it is doable.” Bechard continued with his thought process, “And after we hit the bases, the armies won’t be much of a threat if we replace the UN leaders before the weaponry is repaired.”

  “More killing?” Haruto uttered forlornly.

  Bechard responded, “A thousand lives to avoid killing millions. It’s a fair exchange.”

  Billy offered his opinion, “Those UN leaders aren’t guiltless. They’re Dracos in human form, and they wouldn’t think twice about killing us.”

  Haruto countered, “But I don’t want to be like them.”

  He adjusted his black hat. “Sometimes you gotta do, what you gotta do.”

  EMP Attacks

  THE AIRCRAFT CARRIERS from China, Russia and the United States were anchored in the Arctic Ocean. On top of each deck was a short runway with jets ready to lift off. A fleet of Chinese military jets, identified by red stars outlined with yellow on the gray tails, took to flight. Right behind them was the Russian team flying Su-27s and T-50s. The sleek bodies were covered with geometrical-shaped camouflage. Coming up from the rear were the United States’ F-22A Raptors, F-18 Hornets, A-10s and F-35s gleaned from the Air Force, Marines, and Navy divisions.

  The multi-national squadron flew over the Arctic’s mass of ice, topped by mountains of snow. Their great numbers blocked out the pale sun as they headed toward the North Pole. Here, even though it was summer, the temperature remained just below freezing—an unending season of cold. The jets approached the northern entrance of inner earth, which was nearly sixty-miles wide at the outer circumference before its snowy terrain sloped downward, narrowing into a tunnel. The fighter planes flew to the midpoint of the massive-sized hole, then dipped their noses, speeding past the enormous icicles dripping over the tunnel’s edges, some bigger than the planes themselves. The aircraft began free falling inside the passageway. To avoid stalling, they crisscrossed like downhill skiers. The pilots fiercely concentrated to avoid colliding with their fellow pilots, their hands tightly gripping the control wheels. As the jets zigzagged through the tunnel, the sun’s light became faint, and soon the vestibule was pitch black. The planes’ landing lights lit the way—buzzing fireflies weaving toward their targets.

  They flew.

  And flew.

  Hundreds of miles later, midway through the earth’s crust, zero gravity took effect. The planes became weightless, wobbling uncertainly, but the engines propelled them forward through the darkness while the glowing needles on their co
mpasses spun round and round.

  When the jets finally left behind the no man’s land between upper and inner earth, the gravitational pull switched.

  Down became up.

  They ascended toward the fallen angel’s domain. The tunnel thundered as the jet engines strained. Soon, a light appeared at the top of the tunnel, providing a beacon for the pilots. Unbeknownst to them, the light was a temptress, luring them to the surface where Abaddon’s fleet waited for them.

  At the first sound of the jets, the fallen angels fired lasers down the hole.

  The humans’ jets, and the bombs they carried, exploded, causing massive shockwaves and fireballs. The fighter planes crashed on top of each other—toppling like rows of fiery dominoes.

  Some of the incoming jets managed to avoid being hit, whizzing up and out of the tunnel. The fallen angels’ hovercraft zoomed in every direction, picking off the strays with bursts of laser beams.

  By sheer luck, a Chinese jet flew through the bombardment and escaped unscathed. It raced toward its number one target: Abaddon’s castle and surrounding territory.

  A fallen angel noticed the rogue fighter plane and spun his silver saucer around, chasing the invader, quickly gaining airspace. He lined up the target.

  A flashing light on the dashboard alerted the Chinese pilot. He responded by releasing a series of flares that spiraled behind his aircraft like fireworks, creating a thick veil of smoke, heat and trails of sparks, which flared out like the Angel of Death’s wings.

  Because of the tactical veil, the fallen angel could not accurately pinpoint the Chinese jet, so he simply aimed in the general direction and pushed a button on his control wheel. A series of laser beams shot out.

  Untouched, the Chinese jet rose out of the haze, flying close to the speed of sound toward its target.