by Stu Jones
He reached down and picked up his radio. “Jenna, I hear you. Don’t worry about me. I’m going to be alright. All I ever wanted was to repay you some small measure of the kindness you showed to me. Please. Let this be enough.”
“Dagen, don’t—”
With a twist, Dagen turned his radio off and tossed it on the floorboard. He reached into the passenger seat, revealing several bricks of C-4 explosive. He took the dead man’s switch he’d rigged in hand, pulled the bricks into his lap, and depressed the button with his thumb.
One of the rail guns pivoted in his direction and, with a flash, tore his vehicle apart, shredding his right side with shrapnel. He screamed, his body in terrible pain. High-powered-rifle rounds ripped through the cab of the Hummer and into his flesh, as he and his ruined vehicle slid across the bridge, closing on the rail guns.
“Jesus, forgive me. I want to see your face—”
Bullets slammed through Dagen’s body, his Hummer crashing and spinning to a stop in the middle of the bridge, amid the wild bandits, who continued to dump hundreds of rounds into his vehicle.
Dagen coughed blood, a thick string of it hanging from his mouth. Though mortally wounded, he still managed to smile with an odd sort of peacefulness. Looking down at his hand, he released his thumb from the pressure switch.
Kane watched in sheer amazement as, with a brilliant flash and a deafening concussion, a blast of fire tore the bridge apart, sending steel, concrete fragments, and human bodies flying high into the air and causing the massive rail guns to plummet into Glen Canyon below.
Kane would have cheered if he weren’t so busy swallowing his shame. Dagen had just saved all their lives by sacrificing his own. Kane had never, not once, thanked the man for anything he had done that was worthy of praise. Kane watched the rest of the bridge crumble into the canyon, destroyed. Their path to the dam was open.
“I was wrong about you, Dagen.” Kane dropped his head. “I was wrong.”
Ari watched the last of the highway bridge crumble into the deep canyon and patted Jenna, who was now sobbing. “Come on, Jenna; we’re still exposed here. We need to move.”
Ari looked back at the battle again, which was now waning, the dead in piles three feet high in places. The Comanche, though fewer in number, had crushed the bulk of the bandit army with their mounted tactics, fighting spirit, and sheer skill. Only a small number of the bandit force that met them on the plateau remained, many of them running for their lives as the Comanche, led by Queenashano and Penateka, hunted them down on horseback. The deceased bandits lay gutted, their heads removed or scalped or their severed genitals stuffed into their mouths. The Comanche had a long-standing reputation of ruthlessness for a very good reason.
Ari saw Courtland and Tynuk move to Kane’s position. Her radio came to life with Kane’s voice. “Ari, are you guys OK?”
“Yes. Saxon came after us. I killed him.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day.”
“The bridge?”
“It was Dagen. He went out like a hero.”
Jenna shook her head, mumbling. “He didn’t have to…Why’d he do that?”
“He did it for us, Jenna. He did it for you. That’s what friends do.” Ari patted Jenna again and keyed her radio. “Kane, we’ve lost almost everyone. It’s just us. How are we going to do this?”
“We trust in our God to deliver us.”
Ari shook her head, understanding but also fully uncertain. She exhaled and said, “What do you need from us?”
“I need you and Jenna to cover us while we move onto the dam. Don’t come down there; just cover us from the rise on the edge of the canyon.”
“We can do that.” Ari turned to Jenna. “Alright, Jenna, we are still in the thick of it. Kane and the others need our help. We will mourn Dagen’s sacrifice later.”
“OK, I just…OK, I’m moving,” Jenna said, standing with Ari’s help. Ari retrieved her and Jenna’s rifles and as many spare magazines as they could find, and together they moved as fast as possible to the overlook, where they could cover Kane, Courtland, and Tynuk’s movement across the dam.
28
MALAK HELD THE Machine high, the darkening sky stretching open above him. Behind him, the children moaned, unable to move as Malak held them imprisoned, his dark tentacles in heavy coils around their fragile necks, drinking in their precious life force.
“Yes!” Malak called, flinging his hands high in the air. “Come, my brothers! It is time for us to reclaim what belongs to us. We will merge our worlds, and when we have enslaved this world, we will overthrow the kingdom of heaven!” The second wave of Coyotes along the dam screamed, thrusting their arms in the air, their eyes dancing with dark light.
“Now murder these slaves of God!”
Kane, Courtland, and Tynuk approached the entrance to the dam and saw the reserve forces the Coyotes prepared to send against them—at least two hundred in number. Kane’s heart sank, doubt creeping into the edges of his mind.
Trust. The armies of heaven stand with you.
Kane looked to the evil forces that waited to destroy them. “We have to trust. Our God will not abandon us. Not now. Not after all this.”
“We are with you, my friend,” Courtland said.
“And we will not back down,” Tynuk added.
“Good,” Kane said. “Then we will finish this the way we started it—together.”
Beside Tynuk, the black beast tossed its head and huffed, stroking a wet tongue across its fangs, as if to say, Let’s get on with it.
“Jenna, Ari, are you guys all set?” Kane looked to the low edge of the canyon just above.
“Yes,” came the reply.
“We’re moving. Cover us.”
Kane swung his leg forward—a towering step of faith in the God he prayed had not yet abandoned him. As his foot connected with the ground, something unexplainable happened. There was a rumble like thunder, the clanking of armor, the sound of a massive army. Before his eyes, a veil was lifted, and for the first time, he could see what truly lay beyond the world he knew.
Ahead of them, upon the dam, was the most chilling sight he had ever witnessed. Creatures filled in the ranks of the bandits. Black as night with eyes of fire and wings like leather, they stood in silent formation—their dark, savage-looking blades and claws poised to strike. Behind the dark ones were two behemoths, built like gorillas, huge and shaggy. They had tusklike teeth the length of a man’s arm, and their massive frames were larger than a two-story building. Kane froze in fear at the demonic force assembled before him, at all of this evil now gathered on the dam, ready to devour his pitiful resistance.
Then he turned his head and caught sight of something else. The beast, Azolja, was standing on his haunches, except that now they were no longer haunches but legs, powerful and bare. Covering the man down his back, the skin of the beast engulfed him, like a great cloak. The head of the creature adorned the man’s head, its jaws open in a fierce snarl, the visage of a great barbarian warrior.
“Kane,” the warrior said to him, “my name is Raziel. In the name of our high king, you and your people will have what you need for the battle. I along with the Seventh Angelic Command stand ready to aid you.”
Kane couldn’t speak, his mouth locked open. By the looks on their faces, Courtland and Tynuk saw it all as well.
“My faith is so small,” Courtland said in disbelief.
Tynuk said nothing.
Before them, behind them, and across the hills surrounding them stood the most majestic army Kane had ever seen. The figures were larger than normal men by several feet, with very distinct, inhuman facial features. Upon their bodies they wore gleaming, mirrorlike helmets with purple plumes and armor with robes of a near-purple crimson, which scarcely concealed the great golden eagle’s wings that lay tucked beneath. Carried in their hands were the most majestic weapons of war he had ever seen: almost-translucent swords adorned with gold and silver; massive war hammers lined with spikes; ornate,
shimmering longbows; and brilliant, teardrop-shaped shields. There were thousands of the imposing newcomers, their armor flashing in the piercing rays of the early morning sun. They far outnumbered the dark creatures upon the dam that now screamed and shook at the sight of the shining warriors.
There was little doubt now in any of their minds as to what sort of armies these were. And suddenly, as quickly as the vision had appeared, it was gone again. Nothing of it remained; it was just them, the Coyotes, and the dam—all as it was before.
“What is happening?” Kane turned in disbelief to his friends, looking directly for the beast, which was now gone. “Az is an angel?” Kane stammered.
“Our worlds are merging. We are running out of time,” Courtland said urgently.
Tynuk, still in awe, looked for his shaggy friend. “It was you who led me from the canyon and guided me through the desert. Do not leave me now, my friend.”
“I have a feeling he hasn’t left us yet,” Kane said.
“Azolja—this Raziel—fights with us from the spirit realm,” Courtland confirmed.
Tynuk grinned, “What have we to fear?”.
Jenna supported her rifle against the low ridge. It hadn’t been real. It couldn’t have been. She pulled her eyes from the dam long enough to chance a look behind her to see that the Comanche warriors had routed the last of the bandits along the plateau.
She turned back to what was unfolding before her—Kane, Courtland, and Tynuk now moving on the dam. Even though she had just seen the unthinkable, armies of angels and demons surrounding them, her thoughts still returned to Dagen, the reality of what he had done for them all now sinking like a cinder block in her chest.
Stop it, Jenna. Ari is right. Now is not the time.
Jenna chanced a look at her stoic Israeli friend beside her, clearly still in awe over what they all had seen. If only she could be as tough and resolute as this amazing woman.
“Ari, Jenna, do you read?” Kane said over the radio.
Ari nodded to Jenna, and Jenna raised her radio to her mouth. “Go ahead, Kane.”
“Tell me you just saw that.”
“Yes.” Jenna looked at Ari, who nodded, stunned. “We both did.”
“Then you know heaven is with us! Listen to me. Courtland, Tynuk, and I are going in. When we do, open fire on the front ranks of those bandits. Take as many down as you can.”
“OK, we’ll do it. You guys be safe.”
“Yeah, you too.”
“This is crazy. This can’t be happening,” Ari mumbled, taking aim with her rifle. “Get ready to fire, Jenna.”
“Yeah.”
“Now.”
Their rifles cracked in unison, the bullets flying over the heads of their people. Ari landed a perfect head shot, while Jenna drilled another bandit solidly in the chest. The mass of bandits screamed and surged forward toward Kane and the others.
“Dear God, give us strength!” Jenna yelled.
“Keep firing!” Ari yelled back as they both took aim on new targets and fired again.
Rushing forward onto the dam, Kane kept moving and raised his rifle, firing as fast as he could acquire his targets. Onward the Coyotes rushed as Courtland raised his voice and his blades to them, Tynuk steadily pulling arrows and launching them from his bow.
From behind his forces, Malak laughed ominously. “Come, O warriors of heaven! Come to the death feast I have prepared for you! You are in my world now!”
As the Coyotes closed in on them, Courtland shouted, “You have no idea the power you contest! We are the army of the Lord!”
With a sonic boom, a huge swath of the enemy forces exploded into the air, violently launched by some heavenly presence. Twisting, powerless, they fell by the tens over the wall of the dam. Another shuddering boom rippled across the dam; more bandits were sent flipping over the walls of the dam. Malak’s face suddenly held a very different look than the one he’d possessed just moments before.
Kane and the others shouted in triumph as they ran forward into the fray. Kane fired, scoring multiple vital hits with his rifle. Beside him Courtland charged into the midst of a group of wild thugs and began furiously swinging his blades, shredding them to bits. Stooping low, Tynuk launched into the air, landing on a goon’s shoulders and simultaneously clubbing him in the skull. With the grace of a bird, the boy ran across the shoulders of the men, who fired their weapons recklessly in all directions. With each new shoulder beneath his foot, his club also found the top of a bandit’s head.
It was working. The Coyotes were confused, demoralized, killing even their own without thought. But just when Kane and the others thought they had broken through, a wall of invisible energy slammed into them. With a burning pain, it scorched its way into their very bones.
Kane held his hand up and watched the blood from his nose pool in it. He felt dizzy, nauseated. Scanning, he vomited and saw the dish on the tower above. Humming with radioactive power, the device was locked on their position.
“Tynuk…” Kane gasped.
The boy, whose nose and ears were bleeding as well, snapped his attention to Kane.
Kane pointed weakly at the tower; then with all the energy he could muster, he fired his rifle at two approaching Coyotes, dropping them where they stood. He yelled, “The dish on the tower!”
Tynuk needed no further explanation. Running at full speed, the boy vaulted up the tower wall and snagged the ladder, climbing as fast as he could. Reaching the top, he did not hesitate firing an arrow through the operator’s chest and slinging his bow. Raising his war club high over his head, he faltered as the HPM hummed, radiating energy. With a scream, blood dripping from his nose and ears, Tynuk slammed his war club down upon the control panel, sending a shower of sparks into the air. In seconds, the humming of the dish clunked to a stop.
Below him, the battle raged. Tynuk took a deep breath and wiped the blood from his face. The nausea was passing. For the first time, he noticed the dish’s operator, a man with no shielding or protection. The man’s ruined features were revolting; his blood-covered skin, gray and loose, dripped off his arms in long strings. The overexposure to radiation had ruined the man’s physical form beyond measure. Then Tynuk noticed something else that rightly changed his perspective— the man’s feet were chained to the device.
“Jeez,” Tynuk said regarding the man, who still wore an ID badge that read “Nick Corveleski.”
“I’m sorry. Life sucks and then… then you,” the man managed to gurgle as his head lolled back, dead.
Tynuk made a face, “yeah.” He turned back to consider the chaos of the battle below him.
In a flash it was different; like moving panels of distorted glass before his face, the image of the battle was shifting. One second all was as it had been; the next, a war of unfathomable scope raged all around him. The forces of heaven, shining like mirrors, slammed into the oily black demonic lines. Beautiful, nearly translucent swords clashed against blades dark as night.
Now fully immersed in this otherworldly battle, he reached for his quiver and touched his last two arrows. He drew an arrow, eyeing a bandit from his elevated position. As the arrow moved, it passed in front of the boy’s face. He stopped. Though it felt like a regular wooden arrow and held the same balance, the sight of it was not of this world. Light streamed from the thing; it was like holding a ray of sunlight. Tynuk hesitated only a moment. He notched the light arrow, drew back, and let it fly, this time straight toward a howling demon. As the arrow neared its target, it broke into three arrows. The arrows struck the target demon and two others beside it. In a flash of holy flame, the monsters disintegrated, reduced to screaming ash. He reached for the final arrow and, strangely, still felt two. How did he suddenly have a bottomless quiver? Drawing another light arrow, he grinned and let it fly.
Below, Kane felt himself pass through the shifting worlds. He shuddered at the bawling maw he immediately found himself engaged in—stuck right in the middle of a war between demons and angels fighting to t
he death.
A noise. A demon, moving fast, came at him head-on, its blade slashing down to finish him. A clang was followed by a shower of sparks as something invisible stepped in front of him and deflected the demon’s blow with a mighty shield. A fraction of a second later, a sword of fire cut through the air, turning the demon to crippled ash. For just an instant, he could see the flicker of a barbarian warrior’s form shielding him.
Keep moving. Find the warlord. I stand with you.
“I’m moving,” Kane replied breathlessly to the voice.
Gasping for breath, Kane ran, ducking and dodging his way through the chaos. “Courtland!” Kane called to the giant, whose blades now glowed white in this strange place. Courtland crossed blades with the hideous demons that came for him. One by one he turned them to ash.
“Courtland, I’m going after Malak!”
“I will keep them distracted. Go!”
Stumbling over a body, Kane scrambled to all fours, righted himself again, and continued to run. Ahead of him, the two behemoths lumbered forward. With earthquake-inducing strikes, they crushed the angelic armies at their feet. The heavenly warriors seemed powerless against the brutes, as winged archers launched volley after volley of light arrows into them. Kane stopped, huddled behind a pile of debris, searching for a path through the madness.
An angelic horn trumpeted three times, and the clouds above them churned with fire. Several stunning blasts of lightning snapped through the ashen ceiling, striking down on and disintegrating waves of the fallen. Another bolt gave a direct hit on one of the behemoths, slowing it but not stopping it. In the wake of this air support, which seemed to clear the field significantly, a huge bolt of white light struck down with an earsplitting crack on the dam in front of Kane and the remaining angels.
Light swelled and encased the goliath that now began to rise from its huddled landing position. With a hiss, it came to life in a whirring of mechanical light. Neither living nor dead, towering like a titanic suit of autonomous magical armor, it stood to its full height, stories tall. The seraphim had arrived. The armies of heaven rallied, cheering in triumph for their champion.