Fist collided with chest and made a loud thudding sound in the quiet afternoon air. Mild pain shot through Alan’s hand as he pulled back and looked to Jacob for instruction.
Jacob shook his head, “If this is going to work I need you to commit, Alan. The fear, pain and anger, I need you to experience it all. I need you to be there again. Take yourself back to the place where you first discovered you were meant for something more than an ordinary life. Come on, once more.”
The mental barriers Alan placed around his childhood were being asked to be open again. Trying not to think about the things he had fought so hard to bury deep in the dark recesses of his memory only made them surface faster. The night of the only dance he had ever been to; the beating he had endured at the hands of the school bully. Alan closed his eyes trying to forget.
“Good,” he heard Jacob say. “Don’t fight it, remember it. Feel it once again.”
Eyes closed Alan remembered being laughed at and called names like; dork, weirdo, nerd, zero…
“All those years you thought you were alone,” Jacob’s voice filled the silence, “All the pain, loneliness, depression, bullying they are part of you but you can choose here and now to not let them define you today. Use it, Alan. Use that energy and aggression but now know you are not alone. There is hope, there is redemption.”
Alan could feel his body shaking as heat poured from some hidden well of strength deep within. He could hear Jacob’s voice but even more intensely, he felt the power that was surging within him.
“You’ve endured only as much as you were meant. All those years of hardship have made you stronger, Alan. They have made you into something few people are. Left without hope and purpose, those feelings would consume you. But you are not alone, Alan. You have hope now and more importantly, you have purpose. Now hit me!”
Alan didn’t know he was throwing more than one strike but by the time he was aware of his fists flying, he had struck Jacob on the chest multiple times. Wildly he marched forward sending strike after strike echoing into his target. Tears of controlled emotion flooded from Alan’s tear ducts with his consent. All Alan could see was the pain he endured for so many years, the pain that he still struggled to overcome. But now he had hope and answers, now he wasn’t alone.
“Enough,” Jacob’s ragged gasp made Alan shudder.
Embarrassed he wiped away the moister from his eyes. Jacob was doubled over, a painful expression on his face. Alan instinctively moved towards him to help, an apology on his lips.
“No,” Jacob warded off Alan with an outstretched hand. The older man stood up straight with a wince. “No, I’m fine. You did well. Next time I’ll have to use my own powers.”
Alan’s curiosity piqued, “What are your—“
“Ummm… guys?” Alan and Jacob turned towards the entrance of the warehouse. Danielle was standing in the doorway motioning them to come inside. “You’re going to want to hear this.”
Chapter 31
“My brothers and sisters of the Fallen race. Thank you for your willingness to hear what I have to say and for joining me on such short notice.” The room was silent, as she knew it would be. The eleven other seats placed around the large circular table were taken by the most powerful members of her species. These members would not see it necessary to affirm her thanks with a response.
Both male and female members were in attendance. Some lounged quietly in the shadows, others smoked cigarettes or exchanged curious glances with their neighbors. “I am sure you are all wondering what I asked you here for—“
“Yes, yes, Ardat, enough with the dramatics. What is it that is so important you summoned us to this ‘history-altering’ meeting? I was in the middle of a rather delicate nuclear missile deal.”
Ardat turned her dark eyes on the speaker. His conceited tone already revealing his identity, nevertheless she wanted to skewer Belmore with a menacing look.
“Oh please, woman, save your looks for your Nephilim. I do not fear you.”
She hated the smug look on his baggy face. The way his thinning hair fell off his spotted balding head. She wanted nothing more than to walk over to his seat, tear his stupid arms from his stupid body and beat him to death with them. Yet, she had come too far now to let her legendary temper get the best of her. “Of course. My guests, you all know our predicament here on earth. For much longer than I care to remember we have been sentenced to this cell waiting our day of judgment.”
Disgruntled murmurs and mutters echoed throughout the room.
“What if I were to tell you that our waiting is over? What if I were to say that I have found a way to tip the scales in our favor?”
Those who were lounging in their seats sat up straight. Side conversations were silenced as every member in the room looked to her for an explanation.
Ardat let the silence hold for a second longer. She allowed her self to revel in the moment for only a brief second before she continued. “We are here with no chance of escape. The bloody Angels and their Nephilim make sure of that. The Angels are much too powerful for us to compete with, but what if I were to tell you that I have found a book. A book that would enable us to craft weapons that would not only even the odds but allow us to finally kill the guards that so unjustly keep us caged on this earth.”
“How?” The voice was from a small woman with curly white hair. Her sharp pointed teeth like a shark’s showed through every time she spoke. “How will a book help us against our enemy?”
Belmore scoffed, “Please, Triana, you have never before been interested in an uprising. In fact, I was surprised to see you here at all. For all our sakes, do not indulge Ardat further. She is obviously on a journey to find self-worth and praise among her betters.”
Ardat could feel the rage build in her chest at Belmore’s words. It was true; Triana’s presence at the meeting was unexpected. Throughout the centuries, Triana had lived a life of seclusion from her kind. Now not only her presence but also her boldness to voice a question caused Ardat to think twice about the women’s true intentions. “There is a book. It does exist and this book contains the knowledge to forge celestial weapons – weapons that no longer exist and that will place us on top of the food chain where we belong. We finally have a way to kill Angels.”
The room sat silent, stunned. Ardat knew they wanted to believe her. They had all heard a legend of such a book but until now it was only a legend spoken in wistful thoughts or passing disbelief.
“How did you find the book, dear?” Triana said. Her voice was soft and slow trying to mask the urgency to which she desired an answer.
Ardat made a mental note of Triana’s interest. In a room full of demonic beings, there were always multiple strategies at play. “I’ve been searching for over a hundred years. Finally, I was able to narrow in on the exact location by tracing the family tree of the humans who were entrusted with the knowledge. When the war in Heaven was over and our sentence carried out. All the weapons capable of killing an Angel or demon were destroyed. However, the knowledge of how to make these weapons was not. The book was entrusted to humans to protect. Why? I do not know. All I know is that I have found it.”
“And do you have it now?” Triana’s voice quivered. “May we see it?”
Ardat shook her head. “My most trusted Nephilim are retrieving the book as we speak. It will be in our possession at any moment.”
“Pshhhhhh…” Belmore said as he rose from his seat. “You called this meeting because you supposedly know of a magical book that will make us weapons?”
Ardat slowly began to walk around the large table to where Belmore stood.
“What’s even more, you expect us to believe and trust you that this book exists while you have no proof?”
Ardat kept a firm smile in place as she traveled the last few steps to stand next to Belmore. The fool had no idea what she was about to do. Instead of running in fear, he stood there, spittle running from his sloshing lips as he continued to rant. “The Angels cannot be killed
. They are twice—three times more powerful than anyone of us. They—“
With a flesh-tearing rip, Ardat firmly grabbed and twisted Belmore’s left arm separating it from his body. Black blood spewed across the table like water from a broken sprinkler. The look on Belmore’s face was priceless. Shock more than pain glazed over his bulging eyes. Unable to kill him without the aid of a celestial weapon, Ardat knew overtime his arm would be mended back to his body and Belmore would live. However, this knowledge did not stop her from finding delight in her actions as she used his arm as a club to knock him unconscious.
The room was silent once again. Ardat cleared her throat as she tossed Belmore’s limp arm down on top of his body which now lay sprawled on the table. “Excuse me. I have such a temper; sometimes I just can’t help myself. As I was saying, I will have the book in my possession very soon. When I do, I will start forging weapons right away. Soon, my brothers and sisters, very soon we will overrun our enemy and usher in a new era: our era.”
Ardat let a small smile play across her mouth as eager eyes and words of affirmation met her ears.
Chapter 32
Alan and Jacob followed Danielle inside to her own special section of the warehouse. A room filled with computer monitors and high-tech equipment whose functions were well-past Alan’s knowledge of technology. Arther and Angelica were already inside. Arther was sitting comfortably in a dark chair rocking himself backward and forward without any clear physical sign of movement. Angelica was examining one of the many flickering monitors that stood in the room.
Danielle wasted no time in walking to a large monitor and clicking buttons on a keypad. “So I’ve been monitoring phone calls in and out of all the known places where the Fallen have placed their dark Nephilim; pool halls, strip clubs, bars, night clubs, you know, all the upstanding classy places.”
“Wait a minute,” Alan said, “you’ve tapped into their phones? How many?”
Still hunched over her keyboard Danielle looked over her back with a smile, “All of them actually. We can listen to anyone’s conversations. I just have a specific algorithm that tracts the places that are known hangouts for the Fallen and their minions.”
“Isn’t that against the law?” Alan asked.
“That’s what I said,” Arther’s voice joined the conversation in a singsong way that made Angelica chuckle.
“It’s imperative that we stay one step ahead of the Fallen,” Jacob said. “The cost of them attaining the upper hand would mean death and destruction on a horrific level.”
Alan shrugged. He didn’t like the fact that they were eavesdropping on the general population but he could see the need, besides he had nothing to hide.
“Anyway, a program I have running flagged a conversation and I thought you guys should hear it.” Danielle pressed one last key and a nasally voice conversing with another rough, gravelly tone spoke over the room’s sound system.
“Yeah, she said she finally found it,” the nasal voice said.
“I know, that’s what she said but do you really think she has it right this time?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her so sure. Drencher and maybe some of the others are going to retrieve it tonight.”
“I heard we’re supposed to report to the main headquarters later for a special project. Wonder what it is.”
“Well,” the nasal voice said lowering his voice to a near whisper, “If she really has found the missing Chronicle, I would imagine she’d want us to start forging weapons right away.”
Danielle stopped the recording, “That’s it. They go on to talk about sniffing paint and tripping out on the latest reality TV show.”
“Sniffing paint?” Angelica said, “Do people still do that?”
“Demon Nephilim these days,” Arther said, “What do you think, Jacob?”
All eyes turned to their leader who stood with arms crossed over his chest and a dark look on his face. “I think we have bigger issues now than huffing paint. You all know the story of the Chronicle: if they have found it, then we are in very serious trouble.”
Just as Alan was moving to voice that fact that he had no idea what anyone was talking about, Danielle saved him the time. “It’s an ancient book on making celestial weapons that are capable of killing either Angels or demons. We thought it was lost over the years, it’s just been a story until now, a myth.”
“But if there is any truth to what we heard…” Angelica’s voice trailed off.
“Then we need to pursue the lead,” Jacob finished. “Danielle, where did the call come from? It sounded like Infinity talking to another of the Fallen’s Nephilim.”
Danielle turned back to her keyboard. Her fingers flew across the keys like a master pianist giving the performance of a lifetime. “Got it. The call was made from the Sunny Mead—and you’re right. It was Infinity on the line. I’m not sure who he was talking to though.”
Arther let out a low whistle as his chair ceased to rock. “You’re going to want to go aren’t you, Jacob?”
Jacob nodded, “I hope you’re ready, Alan. This isn’t going to be easy.”
Chapter 33
“It just looks like a normal bar,” Alan said as he exited the sleek sedan into the cool night air. Jacob had taken the car from a warehouse next to their own, where to Alan’s surprise, an army of automobiles and aircrafts were stored for their use. Jacob, Angelica and Arther piled out of the car behind him. From the look on everyone’s face and the general mood on the ride to the location, Alan would have guessed they were walking into Hell itself.
Instead, a midsized bar greeted them with the picture of a large flagon of beer and a sunrise behind it. “Don’t judge the Sunny Mead by outward appearance,” Danielle spoke into Alan’s earpiece. “It’s one of the most dangerous places in the city. It’s a known hangout spot for some of the very worst demon Nephilim and Infinity himself is no joke. We’ve tangled with him before.”
Alan didn’t argue with her but he still found it hard to believe that the well-kept bar could be that dangerous. With each step came more affirmation to his thoughts. The building was located in the center of the city. Traffic flowed by at a steady pace, the exterior paint looked as though it had been recently touched up and even the sounds of classical rock music drifted from the door.
“Arch, I want you to stay out here. Make sure we aren’t bothered. Angel, enter through the rear, I don’t want Infinity slipping away.” The two team members nodded without a word and moved to fulfill Jacob’s orders.
“What about me?” Alan asked, “And I don’t have a chosen name but honestly I don’t have anyone the cares about me you could probably call me Al—“
“No,” Jacob said.
“We can just refer to Alan as ‘You’ for now,” Danielle’s voice said over their earphones. “And you’re wrong, Alan, you have a whole team of people who care about you now.”
The idea was so foreign to Alan that he didn’t know how to take the words spoken in kindness. Luckily, they had reached the entrance to the bar. Jacob saved him from having to respond. “Get read, You, stay close.”
Chapter 34
Alan walked into the poorly lit bar ready for anything. Still nothing struck him as demented or demonic. A dozen or so patrons filled the interior. They sat in stools around the bar or the few tables and booths that made up the remainder of the Sunny Mead. A pool table sat towards the back. Carefully scanning the bar’s patrons, Jacob made his way over to the pool table. One man stood alone at the table tossing an eight ball in his right hand as he studied the other pieces on the worn green velvet.
“Infinity is alone,” Jacob said quietly into his earpiece.
“Front secured,” Arther said.
“No one in the back,” Angelica chimed in.
As Infinity turned around two things struck Alan: one, the man was more unsuspecting than Jacob and two, the look on his face told him he had not been expecting visitors.
“Infinity, I’m just here to talk,” Jacob
said. “This can be as painless or as painful as you would like it to be.”
Infinity’s dark eyes shifted from Jacob to Alan. “I have nothing to say to you, Guardian. Who’s the new recruit? Egad! Man, you Angel-Nephilim are multiplying like rabbits, aren’t you?”
Jacob took a step forward and leaned in towards the unwilling informant. “I want to know what you know, about the Chronicle.”
Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) Page 9