by Scott Speer
“Stop!” Maddy pressed against Tom.
“Funny, you don’t strike me as a scholar of the Book of Angels,” Jacks said.
“Stop!”
Maddy stamped her foot down on the deck. Hard.
“Stop it!” she yelled. “We don’t have time for this!”
Maddy’s eyes were wild, nostrils flared as her steely gaze moved back and forth between Tom and Jacks.
“Maddy!” Jacks said.
She merely stared forward in response.
“What is it?” Tom asked.
But it was clear that Jacks knew what Maddy knew. The color drained from his cheeks, but his face remained firm. His eyes looked to the sky.
Maddy began to draw back to her senses, slowly. “The demons. They’re almost here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A bead of sweat had formed on Maddy’s forehead. It tickled, just a bit. It struck her as almost funny that she would even notice something so small at such an intense moment as this. She swiped away the sweat drop.
Lieutenant Tom Cooper and Jackson Godspeed looked at her. In a brief moment of gallows humor, Maddy realized they’d stopped fighting for once.
“You’re sure?” Tom said.
“I think so,” Maddy replied.
“That doesn’t sound so sure,” the pilot said.
Maddy looked at him, then at Jacks, who nodded at her.
“Okay,” Maddy said, taking in a deep breath. “I’m sure.”
“Go, go!” Tom cried.
Tom smashed the safety glass of an alarm panel and pounded the button. A Klaxon began ringing across the sky, along the short, narrow hallways, out into the mess hall—all throughout the carrier. Every soul on the ship bolted up straight for a moment as he or she realized what was happening. There was an extended moment of silence as if each of them drew in a breath, and then a burst of hurried chaos as the entire ship sprang directly into action.
• • •
Maddy ran up the stairs on the aircraft carrier’s island into the combat control room, leaping up the steps.
“What do we have, Lieutenant Commander?” The captain was already there, gulping coffee from a paper cup. He was eyeballing the large vertical radar screen in the middle of the room. His face was cast in a ghostly green shade from the glow of the enormous screen. “No activity yet.”
“Good. That means you can get your forces up,” Maddy said. “But we don’t have much time. They’re planning on going”—she pointed to a spot on the map near one of the battleships—“here first.” She’d seen the big warship clearly in her brief vision.
“Okay, that’s south,” the captain said. He turned to his radioman. “Get the admiral on the radio. If Montgomery’s right we’re going to be engaging the enemy very soon. We’re going to need to throw everything we’ve got at them, and more.”
“Move, move, move!”
“Look alive, people! This is not a drill!” a voice yelled on the intercom. “This is real!”
Jacks and Tom approached and were now standing next to Maddy and the captain. Jackson’s commanders, including Mitch Steeple and Steven Churchson, quickly followed suit, in gear and ready for action.
Jackson turned to Maddy. “Lieutenant Commander?”
She blushed. “The demons are headed here.” She pointed at a space maybe three miles from the main line of carriers and battleships on the screen. “If the jets are coming from the east, then you can surprise them from the south.” She looked around nervously at the military crew and the Battle Angels. “If that would work, I mean.”
“Straight out of the Naval Academy, Montgomery,” the captain said appreciatively with a nod.
Jackson looked at his Battle Angels. “Okay, you heard her. That’s where they’re headed. Let’s do this.”
• • •
Black clouds were amassing in the distance, hovering near the sinkhole. Maddy knew that just beyond the clouds, the Dark Angels maneuvered in demonic darkness.
Looking down from the bridge, Maddy watched as first one, then another, then another fighter jet screamed off the flight deck of the carrier in a deafening roar of jet exhaust and g-forces. Finally Tom’s jet took off. He looked up through the bridge window at Maddy and smiled at her, just like when he had left the first day on the carrier. His F-18 started to rumble like the beginning of an earthquake and then was off before Maddy could even blink, the steam catapult sending it flying at 165 miles per hour.
The Battle Angels had already departed, soaring low along the water and swinging out wide of where Maddy had seen the Dark Angels arriving in her vision.
Anxiously, she looked out with a pair of binoculars the captain had given her. Then she saw the clouds starting to shift, and she knew the demons were moving. The jets were headed directly toward them.
Missiles began launching off the wings of the jets in the distance, screaming through the sky and exploding against the line of demons. And then she saw it, Jackson and his Angels emerging from a cloud bank that flanked the Dark Angel army.
• • •
Jackson flew up and over the fray. The Battle Angels had surprised the demons; the trick had worked with Maddy’s help. He almost laughed at how foolishly the demons had practically sauntered into their trap. The Dark Angels had gone straight for the navy fighters, and then the Battle Angels had emerged from the darkness on their side, swinging Divine steel that sparkled gold in the filtering sunlight. They’d slaughtered at least three demons in short order.
But now the Dark Angels were regrouping.
Boom. Another missile exploded into a Dark Angel, stunning it for a moment. The mushrooming orange missile fire comingled with the demon’s own shimmering black fire-skin, and its very form seemed to tremble and turn to static. Jacks flung himself overhead toward the demon, unsheathing his Divine Sword as he lunged. He steadied himself and in an instant had the blade pointed right at the Dark Angel’s ugly head.
The demon screeched as the blade pierced into its skull, and a brief white light flashed off the sword as Jacks dispatched the Dark Angel. Before the attack, Jackson hadn’t known the swords could do that. But he wasn’t complaining.
Jacks gave a thumbs-up to the pilot, who was already circling around to target another cluster of demons. But before he even dropped his hand, a demon sheared off the back tail of the fighter jet like a bolt of dark lightning, sending it plunging toward the ocean in flames.
Cursing, Jackson started racing to make the save. But suddenly he could smell it. He had to roll backward and bank directly left as another demon appeared from the clouds to pursue him. Unless he had ejected, the pilot was lost.
The demon was fast. Jackson was giving it everything he had to try to lose the tail, but this Dark One wouldn’t budge. It was slowly gaining on him. Jacks remembered Sylvester’s theory, about the demons evolving, about their leader and their plan. Jacks started to sweat. Then he realized there were two demons right on his tail.
Suddenly, the roar of a fighter jet reminded him he wasn’t alone.
The jet was on the demons’ tail, trying to get a missile lock on them.
“Come here, you ugly suckers . . . ,” the pilot murmured, but it was too difficult to fire a missile with Jacks so near. “Too close! Switching to guns.”
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop—the rapid machine-gun fire tore into the line of Dark Angels, slowing them down just enough.
Jackson’s wings suddenly dropped a shadow over the demons. He had managed to flip all the way up and backward as the storm of bullets hit the demons. His Divine Sword felt like it was being moved by its own righteous energy as it bore down on first one demon, then the other. Flashes of white lit the sky.
• • •
All along the battle line ahead of the battleships and aircraft carriers, fighter jets screamed back and forth across the sky. Bombs exploded,
battleships unleashed everything they had, and the air was thick with smoke, demons, and Angels. This was real.
Suddenly Jacks looked farther up toward the clouds growing in the sky and saw a Guardian struggling with two demons midair. Was it Steven Churchson?
Jacks shot up as fast as he could, swinging his blade wildly at the pair of demons in hopes of somehow pulling them off Steven. The blade caught one of the Dark Ones on the leg, lopping off its limb above the scaly knee. Jackson’s suicide rush was enough to startle the demons for a moment, and they let go of their hold on Steven, retreating to higher sky. Jacks swooped down and grabbed the Angel. Instantly, he could feel the warm blood pouring off his body. He didn’t have time to check if he was breathing.
Jacks flew out to the nearest ship, dropping quickly to the deck, where he carefully laid the Angel down. But he feared it was too late. Steven’s face was ghostly pale, marred with blood and angry wounds. Jacks could now see that his torso was torn and bleeding from the demons’ claws. One arm hung uselessly at his side, forced into a direction it should never have gone, hanging only by a few tendons. Steven’s wings had been mangled, his body armor shredded, and blood gushed from his exposed chest.
Steven couldn’t speak. His eyes roamed helplessly as Jackson stood above him. Then, in a slow yet sudden motion, he gripped Jackson’s arm with his good hand. Jacks was surprised by how much strength Steven had left in what he was sure were his final moments. Jacks put his hand on the Angel’s cheek in a gesture of comfort.
“Everything’s okay.”
But the gesture was in vain. Steven was dead.
Jacks didn’t have much time to contemplate the gravity of this loss. Looking up, he saw Mitch, flying with at least three black demons in pursuit. If he didn’t want his best friend to end up like Steven, he needed to get moving.
• • •
“They’re all over me!” the panicked voice screamed on the radio.
Cursing, Tom looked out the cockpit of his F-18 down below the clouds. They’d been fighting tooth and nail for the past fifteen minutes, and the demons just kept coming. He strained to get a good look through the chaos, and then saw Spader’s jet flying through the sky at a blistering speed, trying to outrun the soldiers of evil. It was as if a swarm of locusts had descended upon him.
“They’re too close, Spader! I don’t have a clear shot!” Tom shouted over his radio.
Suddenly, in his peripheral vision, Tom saw a streak emerge and then smash into the middle of the flock of demons. The blur resolved into a female Angel wielding a Divine Sword. The surprised demons roared and dispersed, dive-bombing away from the attacking Angel and leaving Spader’s jet clear to escape.
“Damn, that was close!” Spader’s voice hollered through the radio as Tom watched him pull the jet up and shoot straight into the darkening clouds. Tom made sure Spader was clear before he checked his bearings again.
“Ah, hell,” Tom said.
To his right, down toward the emerald and blue ocean, Tom could see the demons regrouping and were now turning on the Battle Angel who had saved Spader.
“I’m going in.” Tilting his control stick down, Tom screamed the jet toward the skirmish, spiraling in between two Dark Angels darting for the battle lines.
The Angel was flying as fast as she could, a multiheaded demon right on her tail. It looked as if the demon was gaining. With a quick bank, Tom dove to the left rear of the Dark Angel, before it had a chance to turn around and see what was coming.
The missile lock overlay in his helmet screen went red. “Bingo. Game over.”
The rocket tore off the side of the F-18’s wing with a whoosh, searing the sky with its trail. It crashed into the demon with a tremendous explosion. Stunned and writhing as it was engulfed in the fiery payload, the demon tumbled through the air, trying to get its bearings.
It would be enough time.
With incredible agility the Battle Angel had somersaulted around, changing direction midair above the ocean. Her sharp wings were set, the black body armor sleek against the light of the disappearing sun. Now, leaning in as resolutely as she could, she flew with the point of the Divine Sword leading the way. Tom saw the blade glint as it spiked into the dazed demon’s main, noxious head. The beast screamed and a burst of light exploded out of the sword, blinding Tom for a moment. When the pilot’s vision recovered, he saw the dead Dark Angel, falling like a rag doll lifelessly into the rolling waves below, dying flames sputtering off its body.
The Battle Angel had already disappeared in pursuit of more demons. There were just so many to fight.
• • •
Once the jets had been launched and the demons met, chaos had emerged in the skies above the blue Pacific. Maddy’s premonitions weren’t going to be helping anymore. The attack was on.
Maddy felt worse than useless. She felt helpless. Her frequencing had become one enormous jumble of panic, fear, and adrenaline. She couldn’t focus on any of the fighters, even though they were just a couple of miles away.
She paced back and forth in the control room next to the captain, listening intently to the radio conversations, watching the radar screens and the clear plastic board tracking the locations of aircraft that almost resembled a game board. She would scan the horizon, trying to make sense of everything that was going on, then she would go back to pacing again.
Whenever Tom’s voice came over the radio, Maddy would stop and strain to listen.
“Stop fidgeting, Montgomery. You’re making me nervous!” Captain Blake said.
They had lost only one jet, but some of the other aircraft carriers in the battle line had suffered far worse.
Things were looking grim on the horizon. Too many demons kept coming. The dark clouds were growing closer and closer in spite of the gritty air and sea stands the Battle Angels and humans were making. One of the great battles of history was unfolding. Unfortunately, the good guys were losing.
Then something strange started happening. Maddy felt her intuition kicking in, felt it loosening. She noticed it first as she looked to the darkening sea and the battle raging in the distance.
“They’re leaving,” she said.
“What?” Captain Blake said, pulling at his binoculars. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Are they retreating?”
“Giant Killer, you’re not going to believe this, but the demons are headed back,” a pilot said. The radar screen showed the knotted, dark masses of green shapes moving westward again, toward the sinkhole.
Celebrations erupted on the bridge of the ship.
Only Maddy and Captain Blake remained serious, their expressions locked in thought.
“Why?” the captain asked. “It doesn’t make sense. They were almost through.”
Maddy thought about what Sylvester had said. About someone controlling them. About a strategy.
“They were testing us,” Maddy said. “It’s like they knew the Angels were here with us. They wanted to see what kinds of defenses we had. Did you see how many they had behind their front line? Just waiting? They could have broken through. Easy.”
“Testing us?” the captain murmured. “More like they’re toying with us. Like a cat with an injured mouse.”
One by one, Angels started to land on the deck, several of them wounded.
“See where all our boys are. Let’s get them back, stat, and see where we’re at.”
Maddy strained to see Jackson and Tom come in. The sun had dropped very low in the sky, and neither of them were anywhere in sight.
“Captain Blake, all our remaining jets are inbound,” the radioman informed his commander.
“All right, get ’em all home safe now.”
A voice on the radio suddenly crackled in the control room.
“Giant Killer, I am in pursuit of a retreating demon that has separated from the main group.”
> Tom?
“Return to the carrier. I repeat, return to the carrier.”
“Negative, I think I got this one.”
The captain snatched the radio out of the sailor’s hand. “Return to the carrier, Lieutenant Cooper. That’s a direct order!”
“Giant Killer, engine number one is down!” the voice said.
“Which jet is that?” Maddy asked.
“Cooper, come in, over. Cooper, come in, over.”
“Engine number two down! Entire fuselage is on fire, Giant Killer!”
Maddy turned, eyes wild, to the crewmen in the room. “What’s going on?”
All the crewmen focused on their radios, ignoring Maddy, who was growing more and more frantic.
Blake grabbed the microphone off the flight control deck table. “Ditch the aircraft, Cooper! Eject!”
“Copy that,” the voice said before it suddenly broke off into a terrible squeal of static.
“Did he make it? Did he make it?” one of the crewmen asked.
The radarman looked at the screen. “We do not have a location on Cooper. Repeat, do not have Cooper’s location, Captain.”
“How incompetent can you people be!” the captain growled.
Maddy grabbed the nearest crewman. “Tell me what’s happening!”
“Miss, we need you to calm down,” he said, guiding her to a chair.
“We have lost all contact with the aircraft,” the crewman at the radio announced.
He reached forward out the clear board and grasped the miniature plane that represented Tom’s jet. Slowly, mournfully, he turned the jet over, signifying it was lost. The room was silent. Maddy stood stock-still and quiet, her breathing coming quick, her eyes wide and wild.
“Did Cooper eject, Goddammit?” the captain asked.
“Sir, we don’t know.”
A soft cry escaped Maddy’s lips.
“Well, you better find out,” the captain said. “And quick. The navy’s lost too many good men already, and there’s no way in hell we’re ready to mourn our best one.”