by David Estes
The catch was that the dropping demon generally ends up near the teleporting demons, but not in the exact same spot. In this case, the demon was fifty yards from his enemies who luckily had their backs to him. Acting quickly, he teleported again behind the closest cover he could find, which happened to be several large padded structures used for football tackling drills. From that vantage point, he was able to take in his surroundings.
The girl had been taken to the football stadium…for training! All the while that Dionysus and the New Archangels had been training, the girl had been doing the same. The demon described her feats as being “extraordinary,” and “unlike anything I have ever seen.” While Dionysus believed she was powerful—as he had already seen what she was capable of when she destroyed half the Council—he knew the New Archangels were powerful too, and there were more of them.
Abruptly, the time had come for action. They would go immediately. Kill the girl. Kill Gabriel. Get revenge. Kill, kill, kill.
Chapter Nineteen
Straightening her body, she threw her arms forward like the point of an arrow, and tucked her wings tightly behind her, allowing her to pass through the narrow circle without touching the sides. With a sharp cut to the left, she deftly slipped through another ring, and then dove ten feet to clear the third hoop in the series. It was the first time she had successfully navigated the most difficult sequence in the course.
Coming out of the dive, she prepared herself for the attack. It came swiftly and from all directions, as demons popped in and out of view around her, aiming kicks, punches, and fireballs at all parts of her body. While the demons couldn’t fly, they could teleport into the air to attack and then teleport back to the ground. And they did. Again and again while she tried to block their attacks. She used all parts of her body in unison to defend herself. Sometimes her foot was blocking a kick, while one of her wings deflected a punch to the head; meanwhile, her arms conjured up light orbs that she used to obliterate the fiery projectiles before they did any damage.
Eventually, the attacks ceased, and she moved on to the next task, still unscathed. Fourteen angels descended upon her, falling in behind her flight path. Using the most complex evasive maneuvers she could think of, Taylor tried to shake her pursuers. First she arced to the roof of the dome, glossing a hand along the metal surface as she flew against it. She reached the first line of girders and beams, and then the fun began. Like a skier slipping through slaloms on a snowy ski slope, Taylor weaved in and out of the metal supports, using them to help hide her next move. Slowing slightly, she allowed her first two pursuers to catch up. Sensing they were close, she grabbed a cylindrical flagpole as she passed it, using it to swing backwards in the direction of the chasers. As she came out of the spin, she spread her legs and tilted her shoes up, so that her heels were exposed. The two angels tried to swerve, but it was too late. Each caught a heel in the chin. Their heads snapped backwards and Taylor knew they were knocked unconscious. She had to trust that they would be caught by someone below. Twelve left, she thought.
There was no time to celebrate her small victory, as the next two pairs of angels were upon her, flying in a diamond formation. She knew they were already too close for her to be able to outrun them, so she hovered in midair, waiting to defend herself. After eight weeks of training, her instincts governed almost every move. Her body was trim and toned and agile, her mind sharp and fast. The flying diamond came in slow, wary of their prey. Instantly, Taylor’s mind computed that, given their reluctance to come in fast, there was a three in four chance that they would launch an attack from a distance. Given they were angels, it would likely be some sort of a coordinated light attack.
Motionless—except for her magnificent wings, which swept the air again and again, maintaining her height—Taylor powered up her body, unsure of what line of defense she would use. As expected, when the angels were within fifty feet, they fired off dozens of twisting, turning orbs of light, each designed to paralyze Taylor. Her chances of eliminating so many rockets with shots of her own were slim, and therefore, her mind told her that her best chance was to fly, and try to avoid as many as possible. But her instincts were saying something else entirely.
She mentally urged her wings to carry her away, to fly, fly, fly, dammit! As usual, her fifth and sixth appendages ignored her, choosing to obey a growing instinct that was about to act. Her field of vision was completely yellow now, like she was staring into the sun, each of the orbs having locked on to their target—her. Closing her eyes, she held her breath and waited to be stunned, shocked, paralyzed, shot from the sky, like she had been so many times over the course of her training.
Typically he revived her with smelling salts, but sometimes Gabriel chose to dump a bucket of cold water on her head, or enter her dreams, scaring her back into consciousness. She wondered which method he would use today.
The shock came, but felt different than ever before. It didn’t hurt, or even cause discomfort. Instead, she felt as if her muscles had bulged, her skin hardened, and a suit of armor had been fitted over her clothes. Invincible—that’s how she felt. Opening her eyes, her vision was buttery and hazy, like she was looking through a fogbank wearing yellow sunglasses. Past the sunflower mist were the orbs. They looked the same as before, except they seemed to be moving away from her now, heading directly for their masters. With no time to escape, the foursome was hit by an explosion of light. Their bodies went rigid, their wings stopped beating, and they dropped from the sky. Eight left, Taylor thought, although she didn’t know how she had done it.
Two more angels, who were trailing closely behind the four, became victims of shrapnel from the blast; each attacker was stung by thin, concentrated beams of light in at least thirty places. Like dead leaves, they fluttered towards the bleachers below. Make that six, Taylor thought.
Her heart raced wildly as she realized she had never made it this far through the training course. She’d defeated the demon onslaught a few times, and even taken out six angels once, but never eight. The last phase of the challenge was meant to be conducted on the ground. Eagerly, Taylor dove to the distant field below, swooping over the heads of the dark spectators.
She recognized Clifford. He wore a bright red tunic and a big grandfatherly smile. When she passed over him, he waved. The other spectators were the demon Elders, in attendance today to evaluate her progress and readiness to embark on her mission. Landing at midfield, Taylor allowed herself to be surrounded by the six remaining angels, one of whom she called friend and another lover.
The small audience cheered. The final showdown had begun.
Taylor drew the sword hanging from her belt. From her touch, the blade received power, turning yellow and then bright white, glistening with light energy.
Mirroring her, the six angels brandished their brilliant weapons. One held his sword high over his head like a torch; another spun her blade like a baton; the third held a spear straight out, as if he were pointing it at Taylor’s heart; the final three, including her boyfriend and friend, held their swords casually, as if they were no more dangerous or deadly than a bouquet of roses.
Dozens of Gabriel’s favorite training tips poured through Taylor’s mind as she tried to concentrate. Offense is the best defense…Use your enemy’s strength against them…Trust your instincts…Use overwhelming force to surprise your enemy. Although Taylor understood the words, she was unable to discern their meaning, or how any of them applied to her current situation. Her mind was a blank slate, wiped clean from the stress of the situation; her comprehensive knowledge and experience were of no use to her now. Her only choice was to act swiftly and hope for the best. Trust yourself, she thought, this time remembering a piece of advice provided by her mother, rather than Gabriel.
Whirling around, Taylor tried to judge her enemies, looking for the weakest link. None of them looked weak to her, although one had edged slightly closer than the others. He was thick, but at least half a head taller than Sampson, making him the biggest
of the bunch. Without thinking too much about it, Taylor threw her sword like a spear at the angel, who hadn’t expected an attack to come so quickly. At the same time, she chased the sword with a powerful blast of light from her palm. Despite his surprise, the angel recovered and slapped Taylor’s flying sword with his own, only to be hit flush in the chest by the orb.
Even as she fired the orb, Taylor had sprinted after it, timing her approach in line with the glowing shell. While her enemy was groaning—and falling—Taylor snatched the two swords from the air. The remaining five angels made no move to help their fallen comrade, each realizing that it was too late for him, and that an emotional reaction could lead to a similar fate for them.
Taylor held the two swords like ski poles, one at each side, points in the grass. Although her heart hammered rapidly, Taylor said, “Who’s next?” with a smile. Although it felt moronic saying such a cheesy line, Gabriel had counseled her to Never show fear even when you are about to pee yourself. And this was definitely a time when she feared losing control of her bladder.
As she planned her next move, the attack came from the back. And from the side. Each collision felt like being hit by a freight train, and squeezed every last bubble of air out of her lungs. In the several seconds it took for her to fly through the air, land on her back, and skid across the field, Taylor had many thoughts, her computer-like angel brain attempting to analyze the situation. The first of the plethora of questions she had was Who da? And her response was to laugh at the ridiculousness of the question. However, even as her brain was messing with her, it had deduced that there were two additional attackers—of whom she wasn’t aware—who had joined the fray. And had they been angels, she would have seen them coming, so they must have been demons, teleporting close and then barreling into her. Another thought she had was Breathe, breathe, breathe, freaking breathe, Taylor! which was likely a result of the strange wheezing sound she was making as she struggled to take in gulps of air from a seemingly airless atmosphere.
While fighting to breathe, the rest of her body acted on its own, as if it was a separate and distinct entity, outside of the craziness that was her mind, brain, whatever. She managed to turn the skid into a roll, which allowed her to avoid two fiery swords that were swung at her wildly. At the same time, she used her hands and feet to direct four orbs at her shadowy assailants.
Like she had planned it the whole time, Taylor came out of the roll and up to her feet, although she was still gasping for oxygen. The familiar demons were down. “Chris, Kiren?” she said.
Groaning, Chris said, “Nice one, Tay.”
“Yeah, well done,” Kiren added, lifting her head slightly.
“Thanks,” Taylor mumbled.
Kiren added, “Do me a favor, will ya? Kick my boyfriend’s ass.”
Taylor grinned. “Sure. And I’ll kick my boyfriend’s while I’m at it.”
Stalking away from the downed demons, Taylor sized up the remaining angels. Besides Gabriel and Sampson, there were two tough-looking chicks and giant dude. Ladies first, Taylor thought, as she planned to engage the long-haired angels next.
But Gabriel didn’t give her the chance, lunging at her with his sword. Metal clanged metal, and then scraped, as their swords met and slid apart. With unexpected ferocity, Gabriel slashed again, while swiping a leg along the grass. Taylor hopped over the attempted trip and swung her second sword at his waistline. Clang! The blow was deflected by Sampson’s blade. Her friend had crept in from the side just in time to save his best friend.
White hot adrenaline pumping through her veins, Taylor parried both angels using her duel swords as if she had been borne ambidextrous, although as a human she could barely even answer the phone with her left hand. When one of her attackers slashed, she would block and then slash back with double the force, pushing them backwards towards their allies.
The other three angels were not interested in being bystanders, moving in behind Taylor, and forcing her to back off from Gabriel and Sampson to protect herself. When they fired orbs at her, she used her swords like tennis rackets to bat them away.
Again, instinct took her to another place, to another level. Not knowing what she was doing, Taylor jammed each sword into the grass and injected them with charges of light. Like a fuse being lit, snapping sparks and crackling electricity buzzed along the ground in two directions. They headed for the two glowing chicks. When the energy reached them, the angels jumped to avoid the danger. Instead of streaming harmlessly underneath them as even Taylor anticipated, the trails of light stopped and then burst from the ground, forming hands and arms, which grabbed the angels by the ankles, pulling them back to the ground, where they collapsed.
Ignoring Gabriel and Sampson who were still behind her, Taylor plucked her swords from the ground and charged the tall dude, who looked like he had just seen a ghost, his face pale and his eyes bugged out. His single sword was no match for Taylor’s pair and she quickly disarmed him. Under the rules of her training, a sword to the throat and the pretend enemy was considered dead, which left Taylor to defeat only the final two knuckleheads.
Taylor spun around to face them.
“This should be fun,” Sampson said, grinning.
“Yeah, for me,” Taylor retorted.
Gabriel said, “I don’t know, Sampson, are you sure we should hit a girl?”
Sampson said, “You’re right. We’re too gentlemanly for that. Let’s just let her win.”
“That would certainly save you the embarrassment,” Taylor taunted.
“On second thought, I have no qualms about decking a chick,” Sampson joked.
Tiring of the verbal-jousting, Taylor launched herself at her opponents, spinning through the air, twirling her swords like a propeller. Rather than blocking with their swords like she expected, the best friends jumped back, avoiding her completely. Taylor grinned. “Why fight when you can run,” she said.
Gabriel strode forward, swinging his sword back and forth. Taylor deflected his blows and watched out of the corner of her eye as Sampson curled in behind her. Instincts flashing, Taylor knew that the two old army buddies had a strategy prepared, and it was likely one that had worked many times before. She had to finish them off before they could execute it.
For the third distinct time that day, Taylor gave herself over to her instincts, letting them dictate her actions, even if they seemed to push her to do something that didn’t initially make sense. In this case, her instincts really weren’t making sense, as she felt her hands unclasp the hilts on her swords. Her weapons thumped to the grass ominously, like they were tolling the bell on her life.
Seeing the surprise on Gabriel’s face, Taylor tried to shrug off her strange behavior by saying, “I just want to make the fight fair.”
She raised her hands in the air, not knowing why. Light energy poured through her body, up her arms and through her fingers. With a few chirps, two tweets, and at least one cheep, a flock of glowing golden birds flew from her fingertips, like something out of an annoyingly perky Disney movie. Taylor waited to hear herself burst out into some painfully cheerful melody against her will, while the birds chirped and tweeted and cheeped at all the right times, and simultaneously dressed her in some excruciatingly girly pink dress with satin bows.
Gabriel and Sampson were mesmerized by the sudden explosion of migrating fowls, watching them soar overhead. Lowering their swords, they followed the birds with their eyes.
Despite her fears, Taylor did not sing a single melody, tune, or even a note. And the birds turned out to be as un-Disney-like as they could possibly be. Initially one by one, and then in bunches, the flock began falling from the sky, dive-bombing the two unsuspecting male angels. Sampson and Gabriel, on opposite sides of Taylor, were hit by dozens of falling birds, each detonating with a powerful BOOM!
And then it was over. The Elders were standing and applauding. Angels and demons alike were rushing to Taylor, and then picking her up, carrying her around the field. It was like some stupid mov
ie where the runt football player kicks the winning field goal and becomes the hero. But Taylor enjoyed every minute of it.
Chapter Twenty
“You were incredible,” he said.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Taylor replied jokingly. Although she had impressed even herself with her performance, she knew she couldn’t have done it on her own.
They were sitting on Taylor’s bed, in her dorm room. After she successfully navigated the obstacle course and defeated all enemies in her path, a celebration was held in the stadium. There was drink, there was food, there was laughter. Taylor had been forced to shake all one-hundred-and-fifty-one Elder hands. When the party looked like it might go on late into the night, Taylor whispered to Gabriel, “Can we get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he had said. They had left after promising Clifford that a final training session would be held the following night in the stadium. Next steps would be planned, hard decisions would be made, team members would be selected. But that was tomorrow. Tonight was a chance to be alone with her boyfriend. Of course, he wouldn’t stop badgering her.