Battle Angel

by Scott Speer

  Mitch drove the sword’s point into the heaving chest of the Dark One. The Divine Sword flashed brilliantly. The demon squealed and then was silent as it flopped, dead to the ground.

  “And stay out of my city!” he spat at the demon corpse at his feet.

  Suddenly Mitch felt a blinding pain in the back of his head as the clenched claw of another demon clubbed him. He dropped to his knees and spun around as fast he could, but the demon had the advantage. It was bigger and somehow more menacing than any Mitch had seen yet.

  Mitch managed to stand up, but he couldn’t defend his right side in time. He groaned in agony as the demon’s burning claw reached out and clutched his right arm, the one holding the sword. The Divine Sword dropped to the ground with a clatter as the claw began crushing through the battle armor, which was melting under the flames. In disbelief, Mitch looked into the demon’s hellish face, which was framed by huge horns and two smaller heads on either side. The whole thing appeared to be shifting and shimmering, as if its actual skin was on fire. The beast drew its other powerful arm back to grab at Mitch. And rip him apart.

  Clatter-crash. The unmistakable sound of someone smashing a window out, the glass shattering to the ground below. The demon still grasped for Mitch.

  Chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk.

  The report of a heavy-caliber machine gun rose over Mitch’s scream. The bullets blasted into the demon, knocking it first one way, then the other. A team of citizen soldiers had leveled the machine gun in the second floor of what remained of an exclusive Angel hotel. Floor-to-ceiling windows had been smashed out, and the muzzle fire lit up the night as they continued to shoot at the demon.

  Stunned by the burst of machine-gun fire, the demon dropped Mitch to the ground as it swatted at the bullets. Even before he hit the ground, Mitch was rolling to his right, ignoring the excruciating pain in his arm, and he picked up his Divine Sword. He launched himself directly up from the ground, aiming the blade at the belly of the demon. Noxious vapors spewed forth as Mitch pressed the sword in to the hilt, skewering the demon’s gut. The Divine Sword sent a blast of light into the night as the demon quivered to its grisly death on the end of Mitch’s blade.

  Mitch turned to the civilians in the bombed-out building across the street and nodded in appreciation. Then he was off, and the ragtag army began reloading for the next Dark Angel who would cross their path.

  They would not have to wait long.

  • • •

  Five of Jacks’s Battle Angels had already fallen to the enemy. They’d been taking demons with them as they went out, sending them back to hell with a final slice of the Divine Sword. But there were just so many of them. They could only hope to hold out a little while longer.

  The forces were getting pushed back into Angel City too quickly, and Jacks knew they were going to have to make a full stand before his ranks of Battle Angels got too thin. The demons were ruthless and efficient. Jackson wondered if they’d see the head demon before long, the leader who seemed to be so relentlessly leading the Dark Ones. Jacks grimly imagined the head demon personally making an appearance to gloat over its victory.

  “Jacks!” an Angel voice shouted from somewhere behind him.

  In desperation Jackson saw that the Angel was looking at a scene worse than anything he could have ever imagined.

  Moving rapidly toward them from the heart of Angel City was a thick, dark cloud, teeming with demons. An entire battalion had somehow flanked them and was getting ready to ambush. Jackson cursed bitterly.

  The battle was going to be over before it had even truly begun. It was now the end, and they would be torn apart with no mercy. At least they would go out fighting.

  “To me! Prepare to close ranks!” Jackson screamed. The patch of destroyed, smoldering asphalt before them seemed as good a place as any to make their last stand. Gritting his teeth, Jacks started drawing his fellow Battle Angels around him, looking to the phalanxes of demons advancing on the ground, and then the numbers forming in the sky behind them. Through some kind of trick the Dark Ones had been able to get around to their other side. How, though?

  Then, out of the blackness of the demon battalion, with a wave of rising joy, Jacks saw white glinting on the underside of wings. White glints kept flooding the sky, and suddenly Jackson and the Immortals beside him knew that the cloud formation in the sky was not made up of demons after all.

  Miraculously, the rest of the Angels had arrived.

  Jacks and his Battle Angels gave loud whoops of joy as they took in the sight of their brothers, sisters, and friends on the wing, Divine Swords in hand.

  Jackson strained to see who was heading up the charge. To his great, wonderful disbelief, he saw that Archangel Mark Godspeed was leading the formation.

  Confused by this sight of more and more Angels materializing as if from thin air, the demons faltered. They began to pull back slightly from this section of the city and streamed out into the streets.

  A few eager Angels began to give chase but were stopped short by furious demons guarding the rear.

  The Angels could tell this wasn’t a real retreat, but that the demons were regrouping their forces. Either way, it would still give the Angels a chance to do some gathering of their own.

  Mark landed right in front of Jacks. His face was set and determined, and he, like the Immortals behind him, wore the armor of a Battle Angel.

  Jackson’s stepfather stepped forward. Dozens upon dozens of Battle Angels landed softly behind him, some of them on buildings—mostly to keep a safe perimeter, but also because there was no longer room for them on the ground. The Angel fleet also stretched out into the streets, parks, and alleyways, and on the rooftops: a full battalion.

  No such numbers of Battle Angels had been assembled since the days of old.

  “Mark,” Jackson said, still in disbelief.

  “We’ve come, Jackson,” his stepfather said with tears in his eyes.

  “How?” Jackson was stunned.

  “Because of you, Jackson. And your example,” Mark said, motioning to the full battalion. “You are a true Angel. What you did, coming out here against the odds, not for fame, but for the principles behind being an Angel. You were the spark that lit the explosion.”

  Jacks looked out at all the faces of the Angels, most of whom he’d known all his life. He was overpowered with gratitude, emotion, and wonder.

  “These are your Battle Angels now, Jackson,” Mark said. “Lead them. It is your destiny.”

  Jackson silently nodded, his face tense and set, his pale blue eyes as sharp as they’d ever been. He looked at the array of Angels in front of him, above him, everywhere. They were ready to lay down their lives for the city, and they were awaiting his command. He walked a few paces back and forth, then opened his mouth and shouted.

  “Angels!”

  They raised their swords and called out a response that echoed throughout Angel City. It was the call of hope for those who had been hopeless up until now. Hope shimmered across the rooftops and the city.

  Jacks now found himself wondering whether, someday, young Guardians-in-training would be studying these maneuvers, the same way he and his fellow Angels had pored over accounts of ancient attacks and counterattacks between Angels and demons on the storied battlefields of old.

  The Angels looked anxiously to where the demons had temporarily retreated to. Now that they had the numbers, the Angels wanted to attack. Jackson stepped away from his spot at the front of the pack and approached his stepfather.

  “Where is everyone else?” he asked Mark. “Are they safe?”

  “The sanctuary has been abandoned. The nonwarriors have left for the Northeast. Your mother and Chloe included,” Mark Godspeed said. Jackson breathed a sigh of relief. “There are some from the sanctuary who are still loyal to the Council. There were some . . . struggles.”

  “Detec
tive Sylvester thinks there is a head demon. That if we find it and kill it, we can stop this madness,” Jackson said. “And I believe him. We’ve been trying to flush it out, but so far—nothing. Sylvester thinks we might be able to tell where the directions are coming from based on the patterns of the attacks. But we haven’t heard anything from the resistance in a long time.”

  Mark looked at his stepson. “Then we need to hold them as long as we can. Give them more time.”

  Suddenly a demon-bomb soared past overhead and smashed into a building. The Dark Ones had regathered and were on the attack again.

  Jackson pulled his sword out and turned to his Battle Angels.

  “Angels! We are fighting in full strength!” Jacks shouted. Pride and strength poured into his body as he raised his sword and was met with cheers. “They have taken many of us, but now we are stronger! Let’s give these Dark Ones everything we’ve got!”

  It didn’t take any more convincing. As soon as Jacks gave the signal, streams of Battle Angels began pouring toward the Dark Ones, who were now advancing. Battle yells erupted from their demon throats, but the Angels answered with their own cries.

  The battle had started anew.

  • • •

  They were coming, more than ever. The Angels had been reinforced by the entire battalion of Battle Angels, but compared with the demons, which were getting replenished from a seemingly endless supply of evil emerging from the ocean, they were still outnumbered.

  “Mark! Take some around to the other side!” Jacks cried out as he saw a line of demons moving along the rooftops and streets to the west. Mark formed a loose group of Battle Angels, and they tore off toward the enemy, swords ready.

  Reassured by Mark’s action, Jackson and his warriors turned and faced their foes again. The demons were moving hard, some of them even avoiding the Angel air patrols by breaking into buildings and smashing through room after room only to ambush Angels from a window above.

  Jackson was dispatching one of these very demons when he heard a shout. A young Battle Angel fresh from the sanctuary cried out as a demon crushed his shoulder in his claw, holding him firmly. Jacks was too far away to help.

  Suddenly a human emerged from a doorway with an AK-47 and sprayed the demon with bullets before running back again for cover. Jackson tried to get there in time to save the wounded Angel, but it was too late. The demon recovered and reached for the Immortal’s legs, then ripped him in two like a rag doll. His Divine Sword clanged to the ground as he took in his last breath. Then, as if it had been nothing, the demon was up and flying away after the brave human. The demon’s blow knocked the human down and did its bloody work before Jackson saw the beast fly off again.

  Jackson picked up the Divine Sword from his fallen fellow Angel and looked down at the man with the AK-47. These two brave souls just sacrificed everything in this battle.

  He stared forward into the ever-growing mass of demons, his blue eyes sharpening. The Dark Ones looked back at Jackson. If it’s possible for demons to feel fear, then that is what they felt at this moment.

  “Jacks!” Mitch called, surely having seen the look in his friend’s eyes. But Jacks paid no attention.

  Jackson Godspeed charged into the carnage with a sword in each hand, hewing death and destruction among the demons as he expertly swung the blades back and forth.

  The Dark Angels screeched and the Divine Swords pulsed with pure white light with each demon life they took, leaving a trail of severed, smoldering black limbs and the lifeless remains of slaughtered demons.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Maddy watched the battle unfold below as she flew above the city. Jets screamed by, rockets exploded, and down on the ground the demons were waging a devastating battle against Angels and humans. All she saw was a panorama of destruction, and she just hoped she would not be too late, when the time came.

  Maddy’s mind flitted guiltily back to the aircraft carrier, to the moments when she was still in her cabin, before she slipped away. Just before she and Tom were supposed to leave for safety in the helicopter, to join President Linden and form a resistance in the East.

  She’d had no intention of joining Tom in the helicopter. What he didn’t know, what no one knew, was that right after Jacks had left her, Maddy had been overwhelmed by another vision. She didn’t get many details—the vision had been delivered and then destroyed in her mind like a stealth bomb. But she did see one solitary detail that had been immediately branded on her brain as if with a hot poker.

  The one clear thing she saw was that Jackson Godspeed was going to die.

  And she could not let that happen.

  Maddy had picked up the Divine Sword from the corner of her cabin and examined it once again. Again, she could almost hear it talking to her, whispering.

  The intricate engraving around the gilded hilt told an ancient story in ancient Angel symbols she could not read. It was the story of her family, the Godrights. She hoped that, one day, she would be able to read the story. But she of all people knew that survival was not guaranteed.

  At that moment, when she was pondering her ancestors and her legacy, she had her vision.

  Her ring and the Divine Sword grew luminous as she held the weapon in her hand. The sword was heavy, but Jackson had assured her it would feel light and nimble if she ever needed to use it.

  Maddy guessed she would find out soon enough.

  Suddenly she knew what she needed to do.

  Maddy didn’t know what she’d be facing, where she’d be going. She just knew she had to go. She had to save Jacks. Merely a fragment of a fragment of a vision had entered her mind, but it had overwhelmed her with the force of a tsunami. It had been strong enough to stem the swelling tide of guilt she was already feeling about Tom, the one she would be leaving up on the flight deck.

  Maddy sheathed the sword and roped the sturdy leather sling over her shoulder, tightening it diagonally across her chest like a sash. The sword rested firmly against her back, and all she had to do was reach across in one quick motion to pull it out and fight. She practiced drawing the weapon a few times, but it felt clumsy. She tried a few more times, and it was a bit smoother. It’d have to do—she didn’t have time to become an expert.

  Then Maddy pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen.

  Tom:

  I don’t know how to begin . . .

  Maddy stared at the paper, but the words didn’t come. She crumpled up the letter and tossed in the wastebasket. There was nothing to say, no way for her to explain to him why she needed to do what she was about to do. She pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and wrote her two-word note to him. That was all she could write, and it ripped her heart in two. But she was compelled by something almost beyond her control. She had to save Jackson, even if it meant losing her own life and breaking Tom’s heart.

  She folded the note and left it where an officer would find it and bring it to Tom. She knew he wouldn’t understand.

  Her only hope was that maybe one day he could.

  She slowly opened her cabin door and looked down the corridors. Everyone was running around, preparing for this final battle.

  No one had noticed her slip away. Her silhouette had been barely visible as she flew, skimming the waves toward Angel City and her destiny waiting beyond.

  • • •

  Maddy was still having difficulty focusing on a single frequency—even one she knew as well as Jackson’s. The panic, terror, and chaos of Angel City was overpowering her ability to control her gift, so she had to make do with brief moments and those slivers of time when she could feel Jackson’s presence, his location, even his mood.

  And she knew he was in danger—mortal danger. More than he could possibly know.

  As she flew near the heart of the battle, Maddy could tell she was getting closer to Jacks. But it was as if she were walking blind in the dark, hearing only
muffled, far-off voices call out every few minutes, and then stumbling in that direction until she heard the call again, this time coming from a different direction. It was frustrating, but she had no choice. The alternative was to just give up. And that was no alternative at all.

  Maddy peered into the distance, toward the heart of Angel City, where she’d spent her entire life. And where her uncle Kevin still was. Still safe. The demon attacks hadn’t made it that far.

  Yet.

  And if she had anything to say about it, she wasn’t going to let them. And that meant saving Jacks first.

  Suddenly, Maddy heard a heart-stopping scream. It was like nothing she’d ever heard before in her life—high-pitched, but deep and booming like a roar. A proclamation of death. And it was headed directly toward her.

  In her peripheral vision, Maddy saw it: black and terrible, its shape shimmering with dark flames, its wings and horns melding together in a blur as it bore down on her. A Dark Angel. Its scream was a war cry.

  Before she even had time to think, Maddy set her wings and banked straight down, soaring toward the Angel City rooftops. The demon followed, its eyes burning iridescent and unblinking in its dark form. Maddy put on as much speed as she could, then veered sharply right.

  The Dark Angel screamed again as it followed her. The smoky wind of the burning Angel City whipped against Maddy’s face. Her famous wings strained as she flew as fast as she could. But looking back for just a second, she could sense the demon was getting closer by the second. Maddy’s heart pounded faster and faster in her chest, adrenaline spreading all through her body.