It made sense. With the Antichrist out of the way, Joshua would be free to rule unchallenged. Satan might even give his blessing, probably relishing every moment when his minions turned on each other.
“You realize this won’t change anything though?” said Sam. “Even if I kill my brother and you take his place as the Antichrist, your fate has already been sealed. It has for millenniums. As soon as Christ returns, you and my brother will be banished to the eternal lake of fire. Forever.”
“As will you,” Joshua retorted.
Sam rocked back on his heels. “Where did you hear that?”
“It doesn’t matter. Fates can be changed. We don’t have to resign ourselves to whatever is written in that book. We — you included — can write our own fates. Decide our own futures. Do you really think I’m going to allow anyone to put me in an eternal lake of fire forever? Are you really that stupid?”
Sam was starting to feel distinctly uneasy. What Joshua was saying seemed to echo the sentiments of his father. What were they up to? Sam realized that once again, he was being manipulated. If Joshua and his father wanted him to kill the Antichrist that meant he should do the opposite. To foil their plans, he needed to ensure that his brother lived. It was a quandary. His heart told him his brother had to die but his head was saying otherwise. He was starting to get confused, to lose the purity of his purpose. So many factors were at work here. Who was he meant to believe? Not only that, why was he bothering at all? The future was already written. In the Bible. Why not leave all these plotters and schemers to their fates while he concentrated on protecting the innocent?
But something was troubling him deeply. A niggling thought was asking him whether the future was indeed already written. Could it be changed? Was the Bible right in all respects? If you knew your scripture then why would you calmly accept your fate when you could put measures in place to potentially circumvent it? Joshua knew the Bible very well indeed — how could he not? He had, after all, been brought up by a priest. Perhaps they knew something he didn’t. If so, that meant that Sam’s own fate was not written in stone either. The flip side of that was that he wasn’t necessarily destined to join the others in the eternal lake of fire, so Samyaza’s plan to create an alternate world — a safe haven — could work. Just thinking that made Sam feel more positive than he felt in a long time.
These invasion forces had two leaders: the Antichrist, his brother; and Joshua, the False Prophet. Even if the future couldn’t be changed — and that was a big if for Sam now — if Sam killed both of them, then this invasion fleet wouldn’t have any leadership. Without it, the army would probably fall apart. Surely, that would make life easier for any surviving humans in the U. S? And wasn’t that the most important reason? To protect the innocent regardless of whether their fates were written or not…
Suddenly, Sam was resolved. He’d kill both of them — his former best friend and his brother. Not the cheeriest thought in the world, but there it was. For the greater good to prevail, he would have to do it.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” said Sam, meaning every word. What did he have to lose? He came here to confront his brother again in any case. Joshua was just adding some icing onto the cake. “Now where’s my mother?”
Joshua wore an expression that Sam struggled to interpret. He clicked his fingers and a woman materialized next to him — a woman that Sam couldn’t help but recognize.
He’d never known her himself, of course, but he’d seen her in his dreams. He’d also seen pictures of her, pictures from her time in Japan with Hikari. Hikari had told him she had been killed by demon worshippers. Perhaps she had or perhaps Hikari had been misinformed. It didn’t matter — he knew that Hikari would never have lied to him. Other scenarios had occurred to him over the years. If she had been killed and gone to Hell, she could never return. If, however, she had been taken to Hell alive, there was still a chance. The fact that she was standing in front of him swept away all other considerations. She must be still alive. Her presence belied all other explanations. That was all that mattered.
He drank in the sight of her, no longer the terrible emaciated creature he’d seen in his dreams. She didn’t appear to have changed since those photos he’d seen. Long dark hair, achingly similar to Aimi’s, skin the color of marble, matching his own complexion. Her face was unlined but her eyes were sad. She smiled at him and he thought his heart would explode with happiness.
“My son,” she said, holding out her arms to him.
Sam was about to leap the desk in front of him, gather his mother to him and crush her in an embrace so tight that she’d never be able to leave him again. Joshua forestalled him, blocking his mother with one arm across her chest whilst simultaneously holding up one warning finger to Sam.
“Not yet,” he said. “Not until you’ve completed your side of the bargain.”
“At least let me talk to her,” pleaded Sam.
Joshua shrugged. “So talk.”
Taking her cue, his mother spoke first. “I’ve missed you so much, Sam,” she said. “There isn’t a day that I don’t think about you.”
“Are you okay… Mom?” he asked. It sounded stupid in his own ears, but what were you meant to say to a mother you’d never seen before? He’d played this reunion over and over in his head but it wasn’t actually going to plan. Somehow the words he really wanted to say just wouldn’t emerge from his lips. Words like ‘I love you’.
His mother smiled again but this time Sam could see that it was forced for his benefit. How could she possibly be okay in Hell? “As well as can be expected. I can’t lie to you, my son — it’s been difficult.”
Sam nodded. Of course it had been. “I’m sorry, Mom. Sorry that you were taken there. Sorry for everything that happened to you. You don’t deserve this.”
“I know,” his mother agreed. “But that doesn’t matter now. You have to focus. You need to kill your brother, son. Kill him and then I will be freed and we can be together once again.”
“Right, enough of that,” said Joshua. He snapped his fingers again and Sam’s mother disappeared. Her absence immediately left a void in Sam’s heart.
“No!” he cried. To have his mother back for a moment only to have her snatched away just as quickly. It was unbearable. He was sorely tempted to leap the desk and put his naked blade to Joshua’s neck, making him bring her back.
Clearly, Joshua saw Sam’s intent and forestalled an attack. “Don’t look so sad, Sam. You’ll have her back soon enough. Get the job done and you and your mom will have the rest of your lives to exchange pleasantries.”
Sam seethed with repressed anger and frustration but as Joshua talked, something his mother had said was starting to percolate through his conscious mind. Something that didn’t ring true. Words that had sounded off. His mother had encouraged him to kill his brother. But that was her other son she was talking about. What mother would possibly encourage that sort of thing? In a strange coincidence, it also echoed what Joshua wanted. His thoughts started to go down a path he really didn’t want to take…Also, the words of Samyaza came back to him. ‘Save the one who will save you.’ Doubts filled him. Had Samyaza even been talking about his mother? How could he save his mother when he wasn’t even sure that it had been her in the first place?
Before he could come to a decision, an alarm started braying loudly, demanding instant attention.
Joshua looked startled. Before he could react, the Captain and his soldiers burst back into the room without knocking. “What is it?” demanded Joshua.
“We’re under attack, Prophet,” declared the Captain. As he said this, Sam heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire from outside.
“From whom?”
“I don’t know, Prophet,” the Captain conceded. “We’ve been boarded by an armed force. In addition, an unknown ship is proceeding along the Hudson on an intercept course with the ships docked here.”
Joshua looked somewhat surprised by this news. By the looks of things, he’d
certainly not been expecting an attack. If Sam hoped that Joshua would crumble under the pressure though, he was mistaken. His once friend was firmly in command. “Tell the Commander to start the engines and get us out of here. Alert the rest of the fleet.”
The Captain saluted smartly. “Yes, Prophet.”
He and his men turned to leave. At that exact instance, the ship rocked under a massive impact. It must have been a substantial strike to shake a ship of this size. Sam didn’t want to wait around to find out what was attacking them. That was Joshua’s problem. If he went down, Sam didn’t want to be around to suffer the same fate. And as for his mother — Sam wasn’t hopeful. Joshua had all but said that his powers were all about appearances. He strongly suspected that the image was just that — an image of his mother and not the real thing. He doubted whether Joshua would have the power to get his mother out of Hell. Besides, he didn’t trust Joshua for a second. He’d betrayed him before. Sam knew exactly what would happen to him if he got rid of his brother. Or refused or otherwise failed to do so. Joshua would contrive for Sam to have an ‘accident’, from which there would be return — from Hell or otherwise.
This ship was no longer a safe place to be. He needed to become the master of his own destiny again. To confront his brother on his terms. He needed to get out of here. Right now.
The ship shuddered again under another hammer blow. The Captain staggered. Two of his three men fell to the ground. Sam saw an opportunity. He darted towards the entrance. The last remaining soldier tried to stop him, bringing an arm up to block him. Sam may not have had his swords, but he certainly wasn’t defenseless. Hikari had ensured that Sam was well versed in both armed and unarmed combat — not that he’d had to resort to unarmed combat much these days. His martial skills were easily equivalent to a black belt in both Karate and Aikido with some Judo mixed in for good measure.
He blocked the soldier’s arm with the outside of his own, bringing them shoulder to shoulder. Using his own momentum, his arm simply came down around the neck of the other man. He swung his other arm around, pivoting as easily as a dancer, forcing the soldier’s head down and placing his hand around his opponent’s throat. Predictably, the man tried to rise. Sam let him, allowing his own over-compensation to force him backwards. Sam tripped him, ensuring that one of his legs were right behind him as he toppled. As he fell to the ground, Sam struck him a blow with the knife edge of his hand, straight in the throat. The man hit the ground and didn’t move again.
The whole combat had lasted approximately two seconds.
Sam darted a glance around the room as he made for the door. The other soldiers were still getting to their feet, pulling handguns from their holsters. Joshua had disappeared.
Sam paid them no heed, reaching the door and darting out into the corridor just as shots starting ringing out from behind him. He raced along the corridor, retracing the path the soldiers had used bringing him here. Other soldiers tried to stop him. He disarmed and disabled them as easily as the first, hardly slowing.
He sensed the group of humans before he saw them, not bothering to examine them too closely. They were just obstacles to overcome, seemingly lying in wait for him at the exit leading to the deck and the helicopter platform. It was the only exit that he knew of. He certainly wasn’t prepared to try and find another one when the ship was under attack. Just then, the ship rocked under another impact. This time, Sam thought he heard what appeared to be engine noises. What was that? Fighter jets?
He steeled himself as he rounded the corner, catching sight of the squad of soldiers blocking his way for the first time. Two were crouching in the corridor, their automatics leveled at him. Three others stood behind, also armed. Something seemed different about their uniforms but he didn’t give it a second thought. He had to get off this ship and they were in his way. He prepared himself to slow time just as the soldiers began shooting in his direction, already knowing that he was too late. The corridor was narrow and his only recourse was to get as low as possible, expecting to be hit by bullets at any time. This could be bad, he thought, sensing that these soldiers were also armed with iron.
He heard a cry from behind and turned. Some other soldiers were lying in pools of spreading blood. It was only then that he realized that the soldiers in front of him were wearing different outfits. That they hadn’t been shooting at him. Only then did he finally recognize one of the minds amongst them.
As he closed the gap between himself and this new group of soldiers, the smallest one amongst them threw a long cloth-wrapped package at him. He caught it smoothly and unwrapped it. His swords. Finally, he was reunited with his beloved swords. Suddenly, he felt whole again.
He nodded at the figure. “Thanks, Grace.”
“Figured I owed you after what went down with the Resistance.” She indicated the exit. “Let’s get out of here before it really hits the fan.”
She led the way out onto the platform. The helicopter was now just burning wreckage. There was a deafening roar above them and Sam glanced upwards. A jet tore past, just over the conning tower of the ship. The ship shuddered again.
“Whose is that?” he shouted.
“Ours, I think,” Grace responded, jogging beside him. “Not entirely sure but I’m taking it as a good sign that it’s attacking this ship.”
The ship jolted again repeatedly. In the sky above, the jet suddenly spewed smoke and swerved out of sight, hit by return fire from the Battlecruiser.
The action brought the ship to life. Suddenly, enemy soldiers started to swarm onto the deck. Grace and the rest of her squad mowed them down with machine-gun fire. Any who got too close, Sam chopped down with his blades.
Dodging fire, Sam and the other U. S soldiers followed Grace as she led them to the rear of the heli-pad. There was a ladder leading down to the stern of the huge ship. Sam could just see the wake starting to boil as the ship’s engines came to life. Crewmen were casting off. They had only moments to get off the ship.
The squad slid down the ladder just as the ship started to pull away from the dock, forcing them to jump. The two soldiers at the rear never made it, caught by enemy fire as they leapt. They plunged into the swirling water and disappeared. Grace, already crouching on the dock, returned fire, giving Sam and the remaining two members of her squad breathing room.
The dock was a whirl of activity with trucks, loaders and scores of soldiers going about their tasks. Lights illuminated some areas but many, including the part of the dock where they had landed, were thankfully in darkness. Most of the enemy troops appeared to be busy scanning the skies or watching the river and the departing fleet to notice the arrival of Sam and his group of relatively insignificant figures. Their presence was, however, noted. An Astaroth streaked down from the night sky, claws and swords extended.
Grace and the other soldiers, suddenly aware they were in danger, began firing on the massive demon as it descended, thus drawing the attention of every enemy soldier on the dock. In the uncertain light, few bullets found their mark on the Astaroth. Sam readied his swords, knowing he would need them in a few moments.
The roar of heavy machine gun fire rang out. The Astaroth, about to flatten the four of them, was suddenly hit by multiple shots. It disappeared, raining ash down on Sam and the others. Unnoticed earlier, a black helicopter swung into view. A spotlight first played upon Sam and his small group, suddenly switching towards the enemy soldiers on the dock, responding to small arms fire. The door mounted M134 mini-gun opened up again, mowing down any soldiers who didn’t take cover.
The helicopter came into land. As it did, Sam saw it more clearly, recognizing it for what it was: a Blackhawk — one of several that Sam had seen at the Beightler Armory. It looked like the cavalry had arrived.
The rotor continued to spin rapidly, not slowing even as the Blackhawk touched down. Grace, Sam and the two remaining members of her squad crouched uncertainly in the shadows, unsure what their course of action should be. The Blackhawk looked to be on their sid
e, but first impressions could be deceptive. Suddenly, next to a soldier manning the mini-gun in the door of the chopper, another figure appeared. Sam breathed a silent prayer. It was Adam. He gestured towards them — unmistakably signaling to them to hurry up and get in the chopper.
They didn’t have to be told twice.
Chapter Twenty-four
Airborne
“ Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out.”
John 12:31
Crouching low, the four of them made a run for it. The door gunner provided covering fire as they tumbled into the opening. The chopper pilot didn’t waste any time. As soon as they were on board, he lifted off again.
Sam, Grace and the two remaining members of her squad strapped themselves in. Adam handed Grace and himself a headset as the Blackhawk banked sharply to the south.
“Thanks,” said Sam. “Lucky you were here when you were.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it. Grace told me where you’d be,” said Adam.
Grace said, “Went to check on you and found the guard unconscious and your cell empty. Figured the only way to get out undetected was through the sewers so I gathered up my squad and we set off after you. Ran into this surfer dude trying to get back in. He’d been asking about you earlier and seemed unnaturally interested in your whereabouts. When we found him in the sewers, he seemed pretty agitated. We managed to persuade him to tell us where you were.”
“But how did you get here?” asked Sam
“Took the Brooklyn battery tunnel,” she said, looking pleased with herself.
“But that’s blocked,” said Sam.
“That’s what the Resistance wants everyone to think. There’s ways through if you know how. I explored it a couple of days ago.”
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