“How long have we got?” asked Colonel Wheat.
“We’ve got just under three and a half years until the final judgment. In that time, probably eighty per cent of what’s left of the world’s population will perish. The rest will have to fend off demons.”
“Actually,” said Adam, “we’ve got less time than that.”
In a synchronized move, both the Colonel and Sam snapped their heads Adam’s direction.
“What do you mean?” demanded the Colonel.
“I’m sorry, Colonel,” said Adam, sounding like he genuinely was. “But I wanted to wait until Sam was here so I could tell you both at the same time. Foolish, I know, but I figured another few days wouldn’t matter. I had to deliver the message in person, too — communications being as bad as they are these days.” He paused and took a long breath. “The British submarine crew gave us other news too. They only just escaped with their lives but before they did, they witnessed a massive ship-building effort along the west coast of Europe. The Antichrist is also collecting whatever armed vessels he can find. It’s an invasion fleet.”
Sam cursed himself under his breath. He should have known this would happen. The last time the Antichrist had invaded the U. S, he had been unprepared, ignoring biblical prophecy in his arrogance and youth. This time, he would get it right. Do it by the book.
Adam met both men’s gazes. “It seems the Antichrist is planning on invading the U. S again, this time with more conventional armed forces as well as his demonic army. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’ve tried to visit every active base or settlement left on the East coast. I’ve come to warn you.”
“How long?” asked Colonel Wheat, his voice flat and emotionless.
“We can’t be exactly sure. The ships needed to be finished, armed and crewed. Fueled. Travel time. Take away the time I spent getting here…”
“How long!” demanded the Colonel.
“Six weeks. No more.”
The Colonel looked down at his desk for a moment and then began rapidly scribbling. From where Sam was sitting, they looked like numbers. He was calculating. “Do you know where they’re going to hit us? Don’t you dare say the Eastern seaboard either,” he growled.
“Once again, our British Intelligence couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but it looks like they’ll be heading for New York. That’s their most likely landing.”
The Colonel screwed up the piece of paper he was writing on and started again on another piece. Sam ignored him, lost in his own thoughts. His mind was reeling. Six weeks. New York. An invasion fleet. His brother. So much to think about. He wondered how Grace would take the news given her fragile state.
He tried not to think about her. And yet, even though the present demanded his attention, the past intruded once again.
Chapter Fourteen
The Road
“ And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”
1 Corinthians 13:13
I t was at times like this, thought Sam, that he could’ve used a vehicle. Or the knowledge of how to drive one for that matter. Despite his best intentions and a surfeit of opportunities, he’d never taught himself.
It was getting dark and he was in the middle of nowhere. To be precise, he was somewhere in Ohio, heading East between Columbus and Zanesville. Probably not far from Wheeling but he couldn’t be sure. According to his map, he’d know it because he’d have to cross the West Virginia River and that river, pre-Rapture, was hard to miss. On his map it certainly looked big enough.
He needed somewhere to hole up for the night. Not that he was terribly concerned about demons — his glamor ability cloaked him fairly effectively. It was just that he wanted to avoid trouble in general and not draw attention to himself. If an invasion fleet was on its way, it would be best if they didn’t know he was travelling in the same direction. Besides, if he planned to keep this pace up, even he’d have to rest. That called for meditation and when meditating, he sometimes got distracted, letting his glamor slip. It would be best if he had somewhere safer than just open interstate.
He’d set out in the early hours of the previous day. By his calculations, it was just over a hundred miles to Wheeling so he’d made good progress. He always did when he travelled by himself, jogging along at a steady pace, pretending like it was the old days. Before the Rapture. Before everything changed.
It was strangely liberating to be alone again. Lately, he’d had his fill of human contact. He’d go for weeks without any and get a craving for companionship but as soon as he’d had some, he needed to get away. He knew this was anti-social but didn’t really care. It was not like he meant anything to anyone… but then he berated himself for being too dramatic. Adam cared about him. And Hikari and Aimi of course. Grace, on the other hand, he was no longer sure of. He wondered if she’d come around eventually.
He was glad he’d insisted on heading off as soon as possible. Adam had wanted him to wait while the rest of the force he was assembling prepared itself but the Colonel had agreed with Sam. Thankfully. If they had both been against him, he would’ve struggled to get out of the camp without permission. As it was, it had still taken him three days to prep and finally get out of the base.
The Colonel, more than Adam, accepted how effective Sam could be by himself. That was why he was being sent into New York before the defensive force. Sure, Colonel Wheat had also sent demolition squads ahead too but theirs was an altogether different mission. The demo squads were to take out, destroy and ruin whatever church they could find in the New York area, especially in and around Manhattan given that was where the forces of the Antichrist were most likely to invade and establish a foothold on American soil. Without churches, the demonic forces couldn’t transport themselves instantaneously to the area. Instead, they’d have to travel in a somewhat normal sense. This, presumably, included Sam’s brother himself.
Adam had asked him about this earlier. They were making an awful assumption that Semiazas possessed very similar powers to Sam. But what if his powers were different or greater than Sam’s? What if he was able to transfer to Earth without using a church? Sam had to admit they were good, relevant questions but the bottom line was that he didn’t know the answers. They would, however, find out in short order.
Still, by destroying the churches, it would hopefully even up the odds. Then the Antichrist would have to rely on his conventional forces who fought in a way that any man could cope with. That was the demo squads’ job.
Sam’s was altogether different. He would use his ability in sensing minds to gather a resistance force in New York. He would find any human survivors and direct them to where they could gather supplies and weapons. Of course, if they were demon worshippers…
Also, Colonel Wheat wanted some forewarning about demon strength in the area. What about demons already in New York? Most, Sam knew, travelled back to Hell during the day, but some who had darkened places of refuge didn’t bother. What about if the church demo squads failed or missed some? Sam would be able to warn the Colonel in time.
Hopefully.
So, here he was. Alone again. He’d contemplated asking Grace to join him but she was just too unpleasant as company these days. Just thinking that made him smile. The thought that she was more unpleasant than him was almost funny. But it was true. Even though she’d come a long way from the teary girl he once knew, she would still have slowed him down.
Besides which, he hadn’t been able to find her. He’d gone to the barracks that they shared but she wasn’t around and he didn’t have time to look for her. It was a shame. He’d wanted to say goodbye. This mission was described by Colonel Wheat as ‘high risk.’ Sam didn’t know whether he’d be coming back or not. They might not see each other again, and it saddened Sam to think that their last words had not been pleasant ones.
He jogged on, increasing his pace along the interstate, enjoying the challenge of weaving in and out amongst the empty cars. So preoccupied was he with
his game that he almost missed it in the gloom — a motel, just off the road. He swerved without breaking stride, examining it with his senses as he got closer. He slowed to a walk, just in case he missed something with his hearing. Nothing. The place was completely empty. If someone or thing had been here, it was long ago.
He tried some doors. Several of the rooms were locked and he didn’t want to advertise his presence by smashing them open. Perhaps he was being overly cautious, but he didn’t want to use his telekinesis either. It was a power to be used as a last resort, not like a pocket knife, to be pulled out at every convenient opportunity. He thought like a normal person. Where would the keys be? He’d only been in one other motel in his life and that one had been unlocked. And then he had it. The office. He looked around. Several doors down, a filthy sign was swinging back and forth in the warm breeze. He wasn’t sure but he thought some of the letters potentially spelt ‘office’.
He jogged towards the sign, conscious that he didn’t have very long. There was a church nearby — he could sense it — which meant that demons wouldn’t be far away. His guess had been a good one. It was the office. Behind the counter he found a row of hooks. Three of them still had keys on them. He grabbed all of them and walked back along the line of doors, trying any that were locked with all three keys. Finally, one of them worked.
Not willing to throw caution to the wind just yet, he checked out the room carefully, including the bathroom. Caution was one of the reasons he was still alive. The one time he forgot it, it would kill him. The room was empty and surprisingly, rather clean. Sam suspected that it hadn’t been opened since the Rapture. There was a light film of ash and dust on the bedspread but he shook that outside first, making it relatively dust-free.
He stood outside the door for a few moments, relishing the gathering darkness. The dark was still his time. It still filled him with a sense of power. Under other circumstances, he’d be out in it, but he had priorities. A job to do. He couldn’t shirk his responsibilities. In the distance, he heard a howl. Lemures. They were out, and not too far away either.
With a sigh, he returned to the room and locked the door, ensuring the curtains were pulled so that no prying eyes could see inside. It was almost pitch black. Perfect. He sat on the bed and settled himself into lotus position, mentally preparing himself for a good three hours of intense meditation.
A noise roused him out of his trance some time later. He checked his internal clock. It had only been just over an hour. He scanned around with his senses. Nothing… but something felt amiss. Something was different and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. And then he noticed it — a slight glow from behind him.
He rolled and drew both swords in one graceful movement, landing in a crouched position facing the shimmer of light. What he saw made his heart lurch and then almost burst. Unnoticed, his swords clattered onto the carpet, swords that usually no man could knock from his grasp. But this was no man and this certainly was no combat situation. It was something he wasn’t and couldn’t prepare himself for. Something that he’d prayed for during the last three and a half long, long years.
“Hello, Sunshine.”
Sam didn’t know what to say. His tongue felt thick and swollen in his dry mouth. He felt dizzy. He didn’t know what to do, how to act. It had been so long. And then, his body started moving of its own accord as if it, and not his brain, knew what to do. He walked towards her and into her welcoming arms. Into the arms of the only woman he’d ever loved. The woman he’d grown up with, spent his childhood with, and whom he’d thought lost to him forever when she ascended to heaven.
Aimi.
Chapter Fifteen
Aimi
“ I call'd the devil, and he came, And with wonder his form did I closely scan; He is not ugly, and is not lame, But really a handsome and charming man. A man in the prime of life is the devil, Obliging, a man of the world, and civil; A diplomatist too, well skill'd in debate, He talks quite glibly of church and state.”
Heinrich Heine, Pictures of Travels — The Return Home (no. 37)
“ Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?" Genesis 3:1
H e lost himself in the embrace for what seemed like hours, hoping and praying that she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He had to stop himself from actually pinching his arm to confirm that she was real.
Aimi. Here. With him.
She squeezed him back just as tightly, her tiny frame stronger than he remembered. She pulled her head back slightly and their lips found each other. Their first kiss in years. At first he felt clumsy and awkward. Sam had only ever kissed one girl — the very same girl who was locked against him now. He wasn’t exactly well-versed in the passionate arts. He began to panic, worrying that he was doing something wrong, that she would leave him again because of his inadequacy.
He sensed humor emanating from her mind and tried to pull back, suddenly angry and embarrassed. She was laughing at him — at his kissing technique. After all this time, he’d ruined everything. But she didn’t release him and his resistance and anger was only half-hearted. He really did want to kiss her and he realized that she was only laughing because he was so anxious.
Just relax, Sunshine. Everything is fine. I’ve missed you so much.
Sam pulled back, this time too strong for her, and looked at her in amazement. Her beautiful, gentle brown eyes stared back at him, eyes that he remembered and yet were somehow different. He hadn’t been wrong. He’d definitely heard her voice inside his mind.
Yes, you did.
He heard her again and checked her face. She was smiling at him. He had so many questions that his mind was almost overwhelmed. But they could wait. All he wanted to do right now was kiss her. Kiss her and never stop.
He fell back into her embrace and hugged her fiercely to him as their lips met again, this time with more passion. He let go of his inner turmoil, self-doubts and just went with the feel of Aimi’s mouth on his. Maybe his kisses were clumsy but he no longer cared. He just wanted to be with her again. He sensed her becoming lost in the passionate moment too, and he moved his arms from her waist, further up her back. And then his roving hand found something unexpected. He stopped suddenly, frozen in shock for the second time in minutes.
He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed earlier but his attention had been captivated by her face and all the features he knew and remembered. His conscious mind had simply ignored the fact that she was slightly illuminated in the darkness. He’d failed to notice the silver armor and the sword belted at her waist. And, of course, he hadn’t been able to see the wings arching over her back — feathery wings, whiter than anything he’d ever seen before.
He staggered back from her, uncertain and confused, and crouched on the carpet, panting like he’d just run several miles. “What…” he managed to croak.
She stood before him, radiant and beautiful, so beautiful it made his heart ache. He’d never seen her look so stunning before. She’d been sixteen when the Rapture had taken her and didn’t look like she’d aged a day. He guessed people didn’t really age in Heaven. And not only that. She was happy. Content. Just looking at her made him want to cry with happiness. Not that he could, but he needed to vent his feelings and confusion somehow.
Aimi smiled at him reassuringly. She hadn’t moved from where she stood beside the bed. This time, when she spoke, the words came from her mouth.
“I know this is hard to understand, Sam, but I’ll explain everything. It’s going to be ok.” She beamed at him again, erasing some of his doubts, easing the swirling sense of panic fluttering in his breast. As she sat down on the side of the bed she turned her sideways to him, revealing the true extent of her wings. She patted the place next to her. “Come and sit with me.”
Without knowing that he was moving, he was suddenly next to her. Her hand was in his and the feeling brought back a rush
of warm memories. She used to do this when they were younger. Almost without him being aware, her hand would find its way into his. The feeling was almost as satisfying as the kiss they’d just shared.
They faced each other in silence, faces only inches apart, the only light coming from the faint glow of her body.
“I… I thought I’d never see you again…” he began.
Aimi put one delicate finger on his lips to silence him. “Hush. There are things that need to be said and little time to say them. As usual.” She paused for breath, her eyes locked to his. He finally realized what was different with her eyes. They had silver flecks in them, flecks that he’d never noticed before.
She smiled in a disarming fashion. “This should be fairly obvious to you — well, to anyone really — but I’m no longer what you might call human. Sam. My Sunshine. I’m an angel.”
Sam knew it. Of course she was. How could she not be? The questions swirling around his head were not what but how.
She nodded as if hearing his thoughts, which apparently she could. “I was chosen,” she said. “Few are. In fact, none have been for thousands of years. Gabriel said that the war on Hell has taken its toll on the Angelic ranks though. They needed more.”
“Why you?” Sam managed to ask.
“Because, apparently, I’m pure.” She rolled her eyes theatrically. “A pure soul. Uncontaminated by greed, hatred and other undesirable human traits. I tried to argue but they said that’s what someone who was pure would do. There was no reasoning with them. They were adamant, and what am I in the face of angelic determination? I relented, of course — with one condition.”
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