“Least this time we’re armed with more than pool cues,” said Shaun, readying his sword more confidently than he had against the scorpions.
“Looks like they forgot who their master is,” said Jake.
“You gonna run again, man?” Simon asked Shaun. “I’d just rather know about it now.”
Shaun hefted his sword, left and right. “I guess I’m done running. No matter how hard I try, it doesn’t get me anywhere. I’m ready to go down swinging.”
“Good man,” said Simon. “Now let’s get to work.”
Like highland warriors, they charged the aswangs, outnumbered three to one, but roaring triumphantly at the top of their lungs. Jake plunged his sword straight into the breast of the biggest aswang he could see, and Shaun did the same next to him. Their silver blades withdrew from beast flesh easily—as light as a feather—and they continued slashing all around. Simon swung his massive axe and yelled obscenities at the aswangs. Jake grinned. It was the best fight he’d ever been in, and for once, he hadn’t started it.
They just had to avoid getting ripped apart long enough to help Lucas. No problem, right?
Lucas tried to crawl away, but Judas kicked him into the air. The man had grown, power radiating from every inch of him. What was the source of his power? Where did Judas get his strength?
“How does that iron feel inside of you, Lucifer? Does it burn? It has reduced you to a mewing kitten. It was only supposed to bind you in place, but you lied about being human. You are still a creature deathly allergic.”
“Stop this, Judas. The Red Lord seeks only to sunder God’s creation. He cares not for the likes of you.”
Judas shrugged. “No different to God then. What do I have to lose by serving another? Even if he breaks his deal and casts me down, I am no worse off than before. I’ve made deals with The Devil already, you’ll remember. You condemned me, Satan, and God allowed it. My loyalty to Him was discarded.”
“Loyalty?” Lucas laughed, even though he was writhing along on his belly like a crushed worm. “You killed God’s only son.”
“Enough! My life’s only regret is that I betrayed Jesus. After his death, no action—good or bad—held relevance. Until now! Now, I shall change the course of human history, as I did once before. This time I shall not do so unwittingly.”
Lucas crawled away but could do little else. He had used what strength remained sending out a plea to Heaven. It had been several minutes now, and help was yet to appear. Jake and the others hadn’t come either. Were they still waiting for him? Or had they cut and run? He wouldn’t blame them if that were the case, but if Judas managed to bring the Red Lord to Earth, they were all done for.
Perhaps that isn’t such a bad thing. Change can be for the best. The world may already be too broken.
Lucas felt blasphemous for thinking it, but maybe God going into hiding had been the wrong decision. Mankind had failed to thrive in his absence. It only grew angrier at the injustice and cruelty inherent in its own nature. A new regime might not be so bad. Was humanity worth so much suffering?
Lucas was numb, but the delicate caress of Vetta’s nails on his back replayed itself in his mind. The thought of her, and of all the other decent men and women he had witnessed throughout history, filled him with sadness. Sadness that human life was so fleeting. And what about the children? For the love of God, someone needed to think about the feckin’ children.
Mankind is worth fighting for. I will fight for it.
Lucas climbed to his feet stiffly, pained all over. Judas stepped out of his way to give him some space, but it was obviously only so he could enjoy knocking him down all over again. He wasn’t planning to rush this fight, and you had to give the fella props, Judas was delivering an ass-kicking to The Devil himself.
Lucas wiped his mouth, spitting black smoke instead of blood, then he smirked at Judas. “You know why I picked you? Why I knew you would be the one to betray Jesus? Because you’re too arrogant to serve another. You betrayed Jesus because you envied what he had. You wanted people to bow down before you and not him, but the truth is that you’re a bag of hot wind that no one gives two shits about. My curse only expanded what was already there—a conceited bore incapable of inspiring so much as a twig. You won’t serve the Red Lord, Judas. You’re only capable of serving yourself.”
Judas sneered and grabbed Lucas with his bare hands, which was a mistake. Even without his powers, Lucas could still knee a fella in the clackers—and he caught Judas a beauty. The man folded like an accordion and struck his head on the low stone wall. It was enough to daze him. And while Lucas was unsteady, he knew enough to follow-through on his attack by throwing himself on top of Judas and raining down fists and elbows.
He quickly drew blood from above Judas’s left eyebrow, and it buoyed him, for it proved that Judas was still just a man. Part rodent, maybe, but still just a man.
Judas cried out and tried to shield himself, a cowardly weakling unable to do anything but bleed. Yet, he was still wily enough to grab something from his belt and throw it in Lucas’s face. The dust was heavy, more like grit than dander, and when it entered Lucas’s eyes, it filled his head with screaming.
Judas kicked him away and got to his feet.
“Iron filings!” Judas cackled victoriously. “I have been preparing to fight The Devil for two-thousand years. You think a simple pummelling would be enough to stop me? You are doomed, Satan. This whole existence is doomed. It is finished.”
Lucas could barely see. The blurry shape of Judas came towards him, but it was like looking through murky water. There was a red glow coming from somewhere, and inside that crimson light, Lucas sensed the presence of something truly terrible. Something utterly monstrous. A giant, crushing all before it into dust. A beast he had faced before. Recently, during his time in Hell.
The Red Lord.
One of the Three.
“Master, I serve you!” Judas bellowed in victory. “Accept my gift and come forth. Enter God’s domain so that you may crush it, and in the ashes, rise.”
Lucas jolted as fish hooks pierced his insides. He felt himself being pulled while held in place at the same time, wrenching his entire body. His vision swirled, and the world became a mess of sound and colour. His mind felt as though it was slipping away, and then coming back briefly before slipping away again. His soul burned.
His soul was being wrenched away and devoured. The Red Lord was coming forth, using Lucas as a hook to hold on to. Soon there would be nothing left of him. The world became dark, and he felt himself falling, losing himself. Everything was fading away. It felt like sleeping.
And all that was left was the sound of voices.
Only voices.
Jake made it up the stairs first, limping slightly from a gash on his thigh, but he immediately skidded to a halt when he reached the terrace. Shaun hit the back of him, then Simon bulldozed both men forward—but Jake barely noticed as his vision focused on what he was seeing.
Judas stood over Lucas, a great sphere of bright red light hovering between his hands. Inside the sphere was something terrible, something indescribable, something in no way of this earth—and it was tearing Lucas apart from the inside.
Lucas slumped on his knees, stone still as a stream of shining gold light spilled out of him and disappeared into the glowing red sphere. At his back, translucent wings shimmered, not really there, more like a memory replaying.
The Irishman had no idea they had arrived on the terrace to help, and luckily, neither did Judas.
“I told you,” said Jake, whispering. “Some bad shit is going down. We need to stop this!”
“How do we know that thing isn’t God?” said Shaun, wavering as he clutched an aswang bite-wound on his hip. “Maybe Lucas is being pulled back to Hell where he belongs.”
Simon shook his head—the only one of them without an injury from their recent battle with the aswangs below. “Shaun, wake up, man! Whatever that thing is, it ain’t God. Come on!”
&
nbsp; Shaun let out a long, reluctant sigh. Then nodded. The three of them raced to help Lucas, almost like there had been an unspoken command that all of them had heard. Simon was quickest, and he shoulder-tackled Judas against the low stone wall. Jake and Shaun followed up by kicking the man on the ground. It felt low, booting a prone target, but if they let Judas get up, who knew what crazy shit he would unleash on them—the guy straight-up magicked a city into being.
The glowing red sphere had petered out as soon as Simon tackled Judas, and Lucas now slumped to the floor as if released by invisible ropes. Whatever had been happening to him was stopped, for now.
“This is for Max, you piece of shit!” shouted Shaun as he stomped Judas into mud.
“Where is Vetta?” Jake demanded, delivering a kick of his own.
Simon roared. “And this is for wasting my lunch break, asshole.”
Judas threw out a hand desperately, not even looking up to see where they were. A flash of light dazzled them, and then began to burn. It sent them stumbling backwards, and Judas was able to get to his feet. He was bleeding all over but sneering irritably.
“You fools!” he cried. “I am Judas Iscariot. I have walked the Earth since civilisation was in its infancy. You think I can be beaten by a mob of grease monkeys!”
“Hey,” said Jake, punching Judas in the face and stunning the arrogant sod. “That’s ex-grease monkey to you!”
Judas slumped back against the low stone wall, clutching his long nose that was now bleeding. His hands were trembling, and he went to throw one out towards them.
“No, you don’t,” said Shaun, smacking Judas around the head and sending him back into a daze. “I’ve seen enough magic tricks for a lifetime.”
“Fools!” Judas muttered. “You cannot defy me.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Simon, grabbing Judas and hoisting him up onto his shoulder like a doll. “Time to fly.”
With an effortless shrug of his shoulders, he tossed Judas over the low stone wall to the cobbles below. They heard the man’s neck snap even from up on the terrace, and when they looked down, they saw Judas’s body sprawled among the scattered corpses of a dozen butchered aswangs—their weapons were still buried somewhere amongst all that demonic flesh.
Jake ran over to Lucas. The Irishman was no longer transfixed, but he was in a bad way—a hella bad way. “Lucas, we did it! Si threw that bitch right over the side.”
Lucas gave a weak smile. “Serves the wee feck right.”
“He’s dead,” said Shaun. “So, what do we do now? How do we get out of here?”
Lucas closed his eyes and moaned. Jake realised they were crowding him. “Give him some space, man. He’s messed up.”
“I… I’m dying,” said Lucas.
Jake frowned. “No way.”
“My body is breaking down. I thought it was the iron-poisoning from the scorpions, but it’s not. My body is decaying because it’s human.”
“But you’re not human anymore. You got your mojo back. You’re the freakin’ Devil.”
Lucas reached out so that they could help him sit. “No… I didn’t become The Devil. I summoned my celestial spirit into a human vessel, and it’s been rotting away since. Why didn’t I think what I was doing? I’m done for, but it’s what I deserve. After what I did to Vetta…” He felt tears spill down his cheeks. “I don’t have long left. Please, help me up.” They got him standing. “Show me Judas.”
Jake nodded. “Alright, man.”
They helped him over to the low stone wall of the terrace, and Simon pointed to the streets below. “I dumped the bastard right over the wall. Right down… W-What the shite?”
There was no longer a body on the cobblestones below.
Lucas exhaled through his nose and gripped the wall unsteadily. “It is as I fear. Judas cannot be killed. If he were dead, this place would cease to be, and we would have Vetta back. Jerusalem still stands, and thus, so does Judas. I have to die now before it’s too late.”
“What are you talking about?” Simon grabbed Lucas and stared at him. “What do you have to die for?”
“I am weak—too weak—and yet my celestial soul still resides within this human vessel. If Judas recovers and tries to take it from me again, I will be powerless to resist him. We cannot let him succeed. If the Red Lord—”
“Okay,” said Simon. “We get it! End of existence and all that. You need to die to prevent the world becoming a dodgy Brad Pitt movie.” The big man suddenly shrunk, appearing meek and exhausted. “What do you need us to do, Lucas?”
“Just help me up onto the wall.”
None of them spoke. They just did what they were asked. Simon lifted Lucas from one side, while Jake got the other. Shaun placed a hand on his back to keep him steady. Lucas looked down at the harsh cobbles below—ready to end it all.
So, this is it, thought Lucas as he stared down at the hard cobbles below. This was to be his end, dashed to pieces next to where Jesus had once taught love and compassion. Lucas would die in the same city God’s son had. Jerusalem was a place of death.
And rebirth.
He was human now. Would he die with a cleansed human soul, welcomed back into Heaven? Or would God let his soul perish forever? Lucas would accept either outcome, for both were more than he deserved. The Red Lord’s assault on God was all his fault.
When Lucifer had incited civil war in Heaven, he had weakened the forces of Good substantially. All those angels killed, all the chaos and madness. It had given the Red Lord the opening he needed to breach God’s protective barriers and start devouring the Earths.
One of the Three.
Lucifer and Michael’s youngest brother. Crimolok. The Red Lord.
All knowledge of Crimolok had been erased from Heaven, dispelled from the mind of every angel, and yet… and yet it had all come rushing back to him in an instant.
Heavenly knowledge summoned forth into a human brain. Somehow, the crossed wires of whatever he now was had caused a glitch, and Crimolok’s memory had returned. Finally, the Red Lord had a face.
And it was ruination and despair.
The worst Evil ever created.
The last born. The last of the Three.
It was a relief that he wouldn’t be around to see the battles ahead. His part was over.
“It’s been a pleasure,” Lucas said to the three men who had helped him up onto the wall. “I hope you fellas find a way outta this. Sorry, I dragged you into my mess.”
“Wait,” said Shaun, eyes flickering with panic. “We might end up stuck here? For how long?”
Lucas shrugged. “Maybe forever, but hey, at least you have each other.”
For once, Shaun didn’t complain, he just stared at the city beyond, silently mortified. Lucas didn’t really expect them to be trapped there forever. Judas would kill them before long, and whatever happened to them after was up to Heaven. As was the case with all men who die.
Lucas wished he got a chance to save Vetta, or at least say he was sorry. Unfinished business was an ill thing to take along with you.
A wind rose, caressing his face as he peered over the city of Jerusalem. It was a pleasant sensation to end on, and he was about to close his eyes to enjoy it, when he noticed the wind had brought something with it.
A blue feather.
It was out of place in the desert, more suited to a tropical bird than an arid one, but he was certain it was real, not a figment of his imagination. It seemed to direct itself directly towards him, fluttering determinedly on the wind.
Lucas snatched the feather out of the air and studied it. It looked so familiar. It felt familiar.
“Want us to push you?” Simon asked.
Lucas turned, thoughts flooding his mind. “What? No, just wait a second!” He held the feather up to them. “I think I have an idea—feck!”
The stone bricks beneath Lucas’s feet crumbled, and he found himself floundering on the edge. He reached out his arms to grab someone, but it was too late. Simon
and Jake snatched at him in vain as he tumbled backwards. He couldn’t see the cobbles rising up to meet him as he fell, but he sure as hell felt them when his body shattered into pieces.
Passing Out
Jake, Simon, and Shaun were kneeling next to Lucas, and Vetta was there too! She hung upside down from the same inverted Crucifix Jake had, but she was held in place by iron cuffs instead of nails. When she saw Lucas, she screamed for him to help her—but he couldn’t. He was slumped on his knees with the others either side of him, and all he could do was blink. He remembered falling—his body shattering on the cobbles. So where was he now? What was happening?
Fires burned from torches around the room. Iron pillars rose in each corner. It was the shrine room Judas had set up at the back of the pub. Somehow, Lucas and the others had ended up there.
Judas appeared in the centre of the room, cheeks ruddy, expression smug. “To think, you were once the master of deception,” said Judas, seemingly delighted by this turn of events.
The man was unhurt, while Lucas felt like he had fallen from a rooftop and shattered his bones against the cobbles. It had just been an illusion though, hadn’t it? Jerusalem had been an illusion. His plummet to death had not really happened—even if it had felt like it.
“The terrace,” he said, understanding he’d been tricked. “The terrace was this shrine room, wasn’t it? You disguised it to trick me!”
Judas smirked. “But of course! I knew you had your celestial soul back the very moment you cast the spell in my bar. I had to get you in here to complete my ritual. It was almost done before these imbeciles interfered.”
“You’re an imbecile,” Jake muttered under his breath.
Lucas struggled against his bonds. “I’m just borrowing The Devil. I’m still human.”
Blood on the Bar (Lucas the Atoner Book 1) Page 19