God Killer (Redneck Apocalypse Book 3)

by eden Hudson

  He shook His head. “What I created was something beautiful. A destroyer of evil, a protector of innocent, a replenisher of life. You’ve allowed your original purpose to become corrupted.”

  “Life?” we spat. “I am the Godkiller. I am the Destroyer. I am Death and the end of all worlds!”

  “But you could have been life.” His expression was so sincere and sad that it silenced us. “Your blood can revive the undead. Your voice comforts the brokenhearted. Your touch exposes the true nature of evil and your presence cleanses it from the Earth with holy fire. You could have healed the dead in spirit and body, comforted the broken, led the lost back home, and purged evil from the world.” He squeezed our wrists, but not hard enough to hurt. “You could have been so much greater than this.”

  “This was done to us!”

  “Do you think that’s an excuse? When Harper Ives asks me why her baby sister died, what should I tell her? That you were angry about being mistreated? Is that supposed to make her feel better?”

  (Scout’s dead? I didn’t mean for—)

  “Tough Whitney’s entire family is dead. Should I tell him not to miss them because the fallen angels who murdered them were angry and wanted revenge?”

  “We’re different!”

  “How?”

  Our mouth opened, but no words would come.

  After several seconds, He shook his head and let out a soft sigh. “You were beautifully and fearfully made, —. Kathan and his kind did everything they could to pervert your purpose, but you still could have chosen to overcome that. Instead…”

  We raised our chin. “Instead we chose to hold you accountable for everything you should have done, for every impossible standard you hold your creations to, for every punishment you lay on us that outweighs our crimes. We chose to exact justice on behalf of a world that could never touch you.”

  “You chose to exact what you were told was justice by a proven liar,” He said. “Academic speculation has always been one of your greatest gifts. The moment you saw me, you were already wondering whether I was appearing like this because it was the only way the mortal mind could comprehend me. The answer is yes. Of course I tailor my appearance to anybody who sees me. I have to dial it back or else…” With one hand, He made an exploding gesture beside his head. “One day you’ll all be able to see me as I truly am, but for now, I keep it within your realm of comprehension.”

  “You’re saying the sort of justice Kathan sold us on doesn’t exist. True justice is outside mortal comprehension.”

  “In a nutshell, as the saying goes.”

  “Then what is true justice?”

  “You want me to condense an incomprehensible concept down into a few simple words so you can make a decision about your next course of action?”

  “In a nutshell, as the saying goes,” I said.

  He smiled. “That’s one of my favorite things about you, —.”

  We waited.

  “Death,” He said. “Death and Hell. That’s the short version.”

  “That’s why you created me? To send the whole world to Hell?”

  “Sometimes it does seem like a mass extinction would be the only way to remove evil from the world, but there’s a reason I haven’t done it myself in all these years. Even right now, there’s a reason I’m not stepping in and smiting up the place. Can I show you something?”

  “What is it?”

  “One man—”

  “We already know about Jesus. Everybody knows that story.”

  “Not Him. I love My Son and take great pride in what He did, but He already paid the price for humanity. The man I want to show you is something else altogether. Sort of the opposite of sinless. But I’ve been waiting for him. I still am.”

  He reached up and touched my forehead before I could flinch away.

  And I saw.

  Tough

  By the time Harper and I made it back to the tattoo parlor, the earth was shaking nonstop under our feet and the thunder sounded like one long rumble with bombs detonating every now and then for good measure.

  Addison and Drake and a couple younger kids met me at the door.

  “What’re we doing now, Tough?” Addison asked. She looked scared.

  Drake crowded up next to her. “Yeah, what’s the plan?”

  Clarion waited for me to push through the crowd to him, then he lowered his voice and said, “The humans are looking for some answers from somebody who used to be one of them. Without Scout here, they’re expecting you to lead them.”

  Harper shot me a look, but didn’t say anything about how them expecting me to be the new leader pretty much summed up how fucked we were.

  Lonely was hanging back near the stairs. He nodded his head in that half-peck when he saw me.

  What’d you see when you did the flyover? I asked him. What’s going on with the fallen angels?

  “Kathan and his legions are regrouping. The Destroyer…” He shrugged like he was adjusting a pair of wings instead of shoulders and cocked his head. “I don’t think she’s in this world anymore. Some of her power is, but I don’t think her soul is.”

  What’s that supposed to mean?

  “Only one being can be in all places at all times,” Lonely said, “But there are certain beings that can move parts of themselves into more than one place at a time. I think the Destroyer is one of them. That’s what it feels like.”

  Clarion nodded in agreement. “The crow and me talked it over. We think she decided to go after God before she blows the world apart.”

  Can she do that?

  Lonely nodded. “If she wasn’t going after the Creator first, she would’ve kept all of herself here and the world wouldn’t be around for us to have this conversation in.”

  “Which means Kathan got his way,” Clarion said. “At least to some extent. Now he’s using the Destroyer to take down God so he can rule over the world.”

  When you say it like that it sounds retarded. Is there anything else we can call it?

  “Kathan’s takeover?” Lonely smirked. “How about ‘become king of the earth?’ That’s what Bailey and her witch friends keep calling it.”

  That sounds less retarded. I looked from Clarion to Lonely. So, we’ve got to stop him. I don’t want that fucker ruling the world, even if Desty kills…even if she can take Him down. Hell, I don’t even want Kathan to know whether he was right about her or not. I want him and Rian and every other asshole angel waiting for me in Hell when I get there. Any word on the reinforcements?

  Lonely relayed the question to Clarion.

  The old one-eyed coyote shook his head. “It’s a long drive from here to Wisconsin. They’ve probably made it there, but we can’t trust phone lines, so we won’t know anything until they get back into town. Even speeding, it might be until tomorrow before we hear anything back.”

  Waiting sounds like shit.

  “Waiting might be all we can do right now, tarnished one,” Lonely said. “It’s too late to save your girlfriend. I’d say it’s pretty clear she doesn’t want to be saved, anyway.”

  Harper turned to look at me, her eyebrows scrunched together. “Your girlfriend? Desty?”

  I took a deep breath and blew it back out, then nodded. It wasn’t really a conversation I wanted to spend time trying to have, even though I probably owed Harper an explanation of what she was getting into at some point.

  Clarion saved me from having to go into it. “We either throw away a bunch more lives on attacking when we’re not ready or we wait a few more hours, regroup, and try to form some sort of plan. Two, actually. One that takes into account the extra manpower and one that doesn’t, just in case they don’t show.”

  That still sounded like shit, but I didn’t want to get anyone else killed so soon. I took another long breath and realized that I was doing it so that broken rib would spike and the pain would clear my head. But the pain was barely there. Not only was I cold all the way through now, but I was numb most of the way through, too.

>   Fine. I whipped off my hat and scratched my hand through my hair, then pulled it back on. Lonely, tell Clare I said fine. He went with me earlier, I’ll go with him on this one.

  Lonely relayed that.

  When he was done, I nodded upstairs. He went and I followed.

  What the hell happened with Willow? I thought I told you to keep her away from the Dark Mansion.

  “Some people don’t take to crow magic, tarnished one. She was some people. I stunned her and left her here. She must’ve woke up not long after.”

  I wanted to hit him, but I didn’t. Something about that sounded right—that Will would be resistant to crow magic. Something about her personality, her way of smiling at you so that you wanted to hang around and talk, the way she never even cussed. I bet Desty would’ve been resistant to crow magic, too. Guess we’d never know now.

  Colt

  I wasn’t going to make it. The light was leaving my skin and the pain was intensifying every second. Every step ripped muscles and ground my bones against each other like broken glass. Tiffani was sometimes there and sometimes in her head. She tried to stay with me, but she couldn’t.

  My body shook. Sometimes I slipped. Once my knees hit the ground. I had to set Tiffani down while I tried to get back on my feet. It felt like the skin seared black and ripped away from my hands and knees when I pushed myself up, but when I looked, no part of me had changed.

  “Please,” I whispered. “Please don’t let me fail.”

  I’d always felt an answering peace when I prayed on Earth, but here in Hell, I felt nothing. Bright jags of panic shot to my heart. I didn’t want to spend eternity here, cut off from God. Everything about it hurt so much. For a second, I wished I hadn’t come. No one was worth this.

  Then I felt Tiffani’s elbow bump my thigh. Hole saws drilled into my leg where she had touched. She screamed and jerked away.

  I couldn’t leave her here to suffer for eternity. That would’ve been like cutting off part of my soul and trying to be happy without it. Tiff was a part of me. I had to get her out of here.

  But I wasn’t strong enough to do it. That heavenly glow was fading from my skin. Once it was gone, I wouldn’t be able to fight my way through the pain anymore. It would take me over and I would be just as helpless as Tiff or any of the other souls here.

  When I closed my eyes, it felt as if the insides of the lids were soaked in hydrochloric acid.

  “Please, God. I can’t do this alone,” I whispered. “Please help me.”

  Tough

  Throughout the night, humans from around Halo trickled into the tattoo parlor. Fighting had broken out between humans and NPs, and stories were coming in about protectors killing their humans or humans killing their protectors. Addison’s brother, Parker, had seen what was left of a vamp out in front of his house on Main Cross. Someone had staked it and left it to rot. He couldn’t be sure whether it was a girl or a guy because it was so old that its body looked like a mummy. That made me wonder whether it was Mitzi. She’d dropped a couple hints while we were together about her true age, but I didn’t think she would be slow enough to get staked by a human. She was too crafty for that kind of thing.

  The people who made it to the tattoo parlor brought whatever they could with them for protection—pry bars, chains, splitting mauls, kitchen knives, and Jim had got his hands on a chainsaw somewhere along the way. Most of the newcomers stayed backed against the walls, eyeing the coyotes and crows like they might attack at any second. I bet most of them would’ve given their right nut for Colt to still be alive so they could just go buy a gun from him.

  After a while Finn came back, and since most of us had gone to school with him, nobody but Harper objected to him staying. Things were getting cramped. The air conditioner couldn’t keep up with the body heat, which was fine by me and probably Finn, too, but the humans had started to sweat and the coyotes were panting. The noise from the collective heartbeats was deafening if I didn’t stay focused on shutting it out.

  “Crow can’t stretch out his wings without slapping somebody,” Lonely said after the hundredth or so new arrival.

  “We’re going to have to set up a secondary location for refugees,” Clare said. “If something were to happen to the tattoo parlor, everyone would be wiped out at once.”

  “What about Rowdy’s?” Harper said. “Its max capacity is 269. We’ve surely got less than that in here.”

  I pointed at Cris, Rowdy’s bouncer, standing over by Jim and a couple of girls from Scout’s class. Harper nodded and led the way.

  “Hey, Cris,” she said.

  “Hey, Harper. Crazy night, huh? So, you here to enlist, too?”

  “Yeah. Who’d have thought? We’re actually looking for a place to expand to, somewhere bigger we can all fit in. What’s going on with the bar? Have you heard anything out of Rowdy?”

  Cris shook his head. “Rowdy took off soon as he heard what was going on. Pretty sure he’s just going to hole up somewhere and collect his insurance money if the bar gets torn down in the fight. You know how he is—always got the insurance or the plan for any possibility.”

  “You think he’d care if we used it?”

  “Nah, surely not. It’s plenty big. And the truck came right on time Thursday morning, so it’s stocked, too.”

  “Awesome.”

  We talked it over with Lonely and Clarion and decided it would be best to send over everybody who didn’t want a part in the war, along with one of Clarion’s packs as guard dogs.

  Once that was settled and the non-fighting refugees were out of the way, you could breathe in the tattoo parlor again. About sixty-eight humans stayed to fight, including Cris and Harper. Without the guard pack or the messengers, Clare was down to fifty-one coyotes, and Lonely figured he had about nineteen crows, give or take twenty-seven, depending.

  Things got kind of intense for a while in the after-midnight hours. The crows and coyotes passed out what was left of the guns and swords they’d brought with them. Talitha and another crow had found one cache of weapons out near the cabin, but it looked like Colt had set it up before Mikal enthralled him, then forgot about them—all the guns needed to be stripped, cleaned, and oiled. Since there was almost one primal to every human, the coyotes and crows all picked a buddy and went to work showing them how to operate the weapon they’d gotten stuck with.

  I mostly just paced. All the guns and training in the world weren’t going to do much against fallen angels. They hadn’t earlier. And if that explosion was because of Desty being the Godkiller, then guns and training weren’t going to do anything against her, either. Even with the Sword of Judgment, if she saw us coming, she could just nuclear blast us off the Earth.

  We were basically fighting twice the war Dad had fought. Not just one kind of thing you couldn’t kill, but two.

  Harper was sitting with a coyote girl, learning how to load a shotgun. She kept forgetting how to open the bolt. Once it was open, Harper kept dropping the shells because her hands were shaking from all the tequila she’d drank over the last couple days.

  The look on her face never changed, not even when her eyes teared up and she had to go to the bathroom for a minute. When she came back, her face was red and puffy, but she sat back down, picked up the shotgun, and opened the bolt. The coyote girl didn’t say anything, just gave Harper a handful of shells. Harper tried to load them. She dropped a few, but she managed to slide one in.

  Fight and die or live and cry.

  We were on the same page there.

  Colt

  The Gatekeepers watched me struggle toward the trap door at the entrance of the Pit. I tried to brace myself for the fight. I didn’t know how I was going to bring Tiff out while fighting them, but I was going to have to. They were the last obstacle to her eternal happiness and safety.

  “The soul you hold is not sanctified,” the Gatekeepers’ leader said. “She cannot leave this place.”

  I swallowed back another wave of acid vomit and shifted Tiffani i
n my arms. Protect her, fight them off, get her out…somehow get her out… I’d moved on shakier plans than that before.

  “You’ve made it as far as our fallen brother,” the Gatekeepers’ leader said.

  “Mikal?” I croaked.

  “She was an infinitely stronger warrior than you, and we returned her to the deepest recesses of the Pit. We will continue to do so every time she tries to escape. How do you think you will pass us with that soul you carry?”

  Please, God, help me. The prayer wavered in my mind. If I couldn’t bring Tiffani out, what would I do?

  “Will you take her place?” the Gatekeepers’ leader asked.

  “No,” Tiffani said.

  Please, God, I’m scared. I used to pray that when I was little and I saw lights moving in the dark where there shouldn’t have been anything, and later during the war when it felt like I was so scared I would puke. Please help me, God. I’m so scared. Please help me.

  “Your soul has already been ransomed,” the Gatekeepers’ leader said. “If you passed your sanctification to her, she could go to eternal rest.”

  “No, Colt! You can’t—”

  “The choice is his, vampire.”

  “Colt, don’t do this!” Tiffani started fighting me. Every fist felt like a lead pipe to my face and neck.

  I couldn’t hold her anymore. I dropped her. She shrieked in pain when she hit the floor, but I couldn’t look away from the Gatekeepers’ leader. It was watching me. Waiting for my answer.

  My body shook like crazy. This time it wasn’t from the pain, it was from the fear, from the weight of what I was accepting. I’d been in Heaven. I’d felt that peace and comfort. I’d been free from pain and fear and insanity and the responsibility for the fate of the world. It’d been so perfect and so wonderful. I didn’t want to lose that, but if this was the only way to save Tiffani from an eternity of torture—