The slow walk the army adopted as they departed from the cave soon picked up tempo. Thousands of dark Nephilim swarmed underneath her as they jogged then started to run. Her ability over gravity allowed her to levitate herself above her soldiers.
Dark Nephilim now not only equipped with their unique supernatural abilities but also with their otherworldly weapons sprinted towards their prey. Ardat floated above them as they exited the cave and crossed the hundred yards to Michael and his waiting army.
The soft sand underfoot would make those without the power of speed or strength slow to a trot. They would be susceptible to long-ranged weapons until they reached the front lines of the enemy. Ardat knew either side would not use firearms. When both parties in a fight had men and woman able to shoot electricity and fire from their hands, guns seemed to fall a bit short.
Ardat patiently waited for the sound of arrows and spears to fill the air. How cute, she thought to herself. They decided to wear matching armor. The air was still clean; something that would not be allowed to last long. Soon the stench of dead would fill the sky along with the screams of the dying. Ardat basked in the clean air for a moment longer before the familiar sounds of ranged weapons interrupted her peace.
She heard cries from her Nephilim army to duck for cover. The giants that formed the front of their line were shielded in armor. Not a single inch of exposed flesh was open. This would of course make them slower but proved well worth it when the clatter of arrows and spears could be heard shattering harmlessly against them. The few weapons that did make it over their advancing walls of flesh and metal were quickly batted away by Ardat. To her they were nothing more than a nuisance.
When her men saw how easily the enemy could be dealt with, they roared with predatory delight. Giants still in the lead, they closed the gap. Soon the foremost ranks of her army were climbing the steep slope of sand where the first line of Angels and their Nephilim waited.
As soon as the sounds of battle met her ears, Ardat moved to the front. She, much like Michael, had no intention of sitting out this fight. To say “all hell broke loose” as the two armies clashed would be an injustice. Even Ardat’s eyes blazed with wonder. Giants beat down on the enemy frontlines with massive clubs and swords. Michael’s Angels took flight and swooped low like birds of prey. They either used their own supernatural abilities as their weapon or picked up a dark Nephilim to kill in the air or drop from a deadly height. Fire, water, snow, wind, every element was thrown against each side. Beings possessing mystical abilities put their unique skills to use, bringing about death and pain to one another.
It was glorious in Ardat’s eyes. The moment she had waited for since she knew they were defeated the very first time and cast out of Heaven was finally here.
Chapter 63
Alan thought back to all the many days he spent as a teenager. All the painfully awkward weeks of stuttering in front of cheerleaders, dropping his books in view of all the most popular kids, tripping while carrying his tray of food in the cafeteria, he was reminded of all of these events as he learned to fly.
It was nothing like how he imagined. He controlled his wings as any other limb. His brain told his wings to flap just as it told his legs to run or his arms to move. Flying in and of itself wasn’t the hard part. The most challenging obstacle of flight came when he was buffeted from side to side by invisible wind gusts that came out of nowhere. Flying in a straight line was hard enough without having to worry about the hidden hands of the wind forcing him in different directions.
Despite this new challenge, Alan couldn’t help but smile. Even as he awkwardly flapped his wings with the rest of the group, sometimes careening here and there, most of the time battling the wind, Alan felt alive. He felt invincible.
Air swirled around him. The world was open beneath him and expanded out as far as the eye could see in every direction. They continued their flight to the coordinates Michael provided them as a next step, should their mission succeed. At the moment, this path was taking them over a vast body of water. Dark blue shades lie quiet and flat across the earth as they passed. Here and there, boats appeared too far below for any of the Death Angels to worry about being seen.
They flew as one: Alan, the dozen most powerful Angels in history and even Danielle. She piloted their jet burdened with heavenly armor and weapons, as if she too were soaring on wings of her very own.
Although battle loomed in their very near future, Alan felt a sense of peace. For the first time in his life, he knew why he was created. He knew his purpose; all the puzzle pieces were beginning to fit. Everything was making sense. Now as they sped over the dark water at a speed that pushed even Danielle’s jet to its limits, Jericho sided up beside him and shouted over the roar of the rushing wind. “Looks like you’re catching on to this whole flying thing rather quickly. How does it feel?”
Alan smiled as he thought about that simple statement. “I can’t believe I’m flying in the first place. I’m just glad I’m not afraid of heights.”
The large man beamed as he flapped his even larger wings. “Like anything else, it will get easier with practice. We are going to be nearing the battle coordinates very soon, it might be time to gear up.”
“Gear up?”
“Yep, Danielle has opened the rear hatch on the jet and Seraphim is in there now. She’s going to start preparing us for battle. It’s kind of a thing she does for us as our leader.”
Alan’s face must have expressed his surprise because Jericho chuckled aloud. “She’s not all death and battle. I mean, she mostly is, but she cares about us, too. We are a family and now you with us.”
“Okay,” Alan said taking his new comrade at his word. With more than a little floundering, Alan managed to slow his pace from the rest of the pack and begin to gain elevation. Danielle was piloting the jet just above and behind the flying group of Angels. Alan continued to slow his rate of flight until the jet was directly overhead and then allowed it to pass.
While he waited for the jet to pass over him and the rear hatch to come into view, Alan’s breath caught in his throat. Eleven pairs of jet-black flapping wings beat in unison. Eleven of the most deadly creatures to ever walk or fly this earth or any other now traveled as one. The way their wings beat against the clouds was enough to make any poet pause for words. It was an awesome and deadly sight all at once.
Much too soon the jet passed overhead, providing Alan an entrance to the plane’s small cargo area. The jet itself was compact and only meant to fit a dozen occupants at the most. This space was now packed from floor to ceiling with bright gold, silver, dark grey and even black pieces of armor and weapons.
Alan urged his wings to steady his momentum as he fought the backdraft the jet left in its wake. With concentrated effort, he stabilized himself enough to fly forward and land on the tip of the jet’s open cargo doors.
He should have tried to land deeper in the jet’s interior. Legs wobbled underneath his weight, reminding him that despite Danielle’s best effort to heal him his body was still weary from the fight with the Death Angels. Alan spun his arms at either side trying to find his balance. Just when he thought was going to fall out and find himself learning how to stop a plunging fall with his new found wings, Sera appeared from behind a stack of armor and grabbed him with a firm hand. “Easy there. We can’t have you leaving us just yet. Not when there’s a battle you talked us into joining still to be fought.”
Alan found his balance and smiled with gratitude. He wasn’t exactly sure how Sera would treat him after their confrontation but it seemed as though the female warrior harbored no ill will. “Thanks, I’m not sure how long these things will take to get used to.” To Alan’s surprise, his pulsing blue wings folded neatly on his back as he stepped further into the rear of the jet.
Sera measured Alan with a sideways stare, focusing on his wings then lingering on his chest and arms. Breaking the silence, Alan asked what they were both thinking. “What do you think their made of?”
&
nbsp; Sera slowly shook her head from side to side. With no verbal answer, she reached out a tentative hand. Alan moved to tell her to stop. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the leader of the group of Angels heading to assist him in the coming battle. Alan felt his wings quiver under her touch. Oh, please don’t shock her or do anything crazy, he thought.
Nothing, nothing happened. Sera gently stroked his wings. The blue appendages that only recently made themselves known trembled under her touch. The sensation her of hand on his wings seemed warm: like someone letting their fingertips trail down a shirtless back. Alan could feel his skin begin to tingle.
“They are beautiful,” she said.
“Thanks. I don’t know how to turn them off or on yet. Since our fight, they haven’t disappeared.”
Sera moved to stand behind Alan letting her hands travel to his upper back, near his shoulder blades, where his wings tore holes through his white shirt and sprouted from his back. “Well, let’s hope they don’t go anywhere soon. You’ll need them in the fight to come.”
Coughing coming from the jet cockpit interrupted further conversation. Alan and Sera both looked up like small children caught doing something wrong. Danielle stood in the doorway with raised eyebrows. “Is it show and tell time?”
Alan felt Sera remove her hands in one quick motion. “We were discussing Alan’s new wings. I haven’t seen wings on any Nephilim. They are reserved for Angels and Angels alone. It is rather curious. I wonder what it means.”
“Hmmm…” Danielle said skewing Alan with a murderous stare. “Yes, curious.”
Alan shrugged with both hands lifting from either side of his body. “I came in to see if there would be any extra armor for me. I thought it would be best to get ready before we reach the fight.”
Danielle still held her disapproving stance but was willing to let Alan change the subject. “Yeah, that’s why I came back here. To let you know that we are only an hour away from the coordinates Michael gave us.”
Without offering a word of explanation, Sera crossed the small space between Danielle and Alan to the many racks of armor and weapons against the jet wall. Her hands reached for and lifted the same sword Alan used during their own fight earlier that day. Once again, Alan couldn’t help but feel the sword call to him. It was as if the ancient piece of metal was meant to be his all these years and through some strange bond, both weapon and wielder knew this to be true. The hilt was made of steel and worn brown leather. The blade itself was one deadly piece of ancient artistry measuring three feet in length. “I think this should be yours.”
Alan reached for the offered blade’s hilt. Excitement ran through his fingers and tingled up his arm. He waived the sword in small motions slicing the air. Although Danielle was in no danger, she took a step back anyway.
“It feels great,” Alan said.
“Good,” Sera said turning from him. “Now let’s find you some armor worthy of that blade.”
Chapter 64
The first crash of battle left Michael’s ears ringing. On the front line with his men and women, he was among the first to draw blood. A stout enemy Nephilim in angelic armor singled him out. Dressed in dark defense gear, the Nephilim carried a long poorly crafted spear. Just before impact, the Nephilim stopped and opened his mouth wide. Unsure what to expect, Michael tensed wings ready for flight.
Fire jumped from the man’s throat. Through rotting teeth and breath, which Michael could smell despite their distance, a flame consumed the air between them. Both wings coming full force, Michael beat at the oncoming flames with a burst of air. The gust from his wings was so powerful that it redirected the fire back to its owner. The dark Nephilim leaped out of the way just in time to avoid his own attack.
Wasting no time, Michael closed the distance, ripped the weapon from the man’s hand and sent the spear blade first deep within his gut. Twisting and turning in one motion, he withdrew the blade leaving organs and blood to ooze out in its wake. The Nephilim looked down at his wound with an open mouth before falling to the same sand that soaked up his blood like a man dying of thirst.
Michael took no pleasure in his actions. They were something that needed to be done. Instead of gawking at his kill, he took flight and moved on to the next kill, the next and the next. Enemy Nephilim after enemy Nephilim fell to him all in the matter of seconds. His men were holding better than he expected. The only issues were the giants. Just as Michael was moving to dispatch one of the six colossal human beings, he heard his name shouted over the din. Reeling around he found Angelica clutching a war hammer whose red stain spoke of its work. “Michael!”
All senses on overdrive Michael gave her his full attention. “Yes, are you alright?”
The female Nephilim nodded. “I’m fine but they aren’t here. None of them are here.”
Michael considered the implication of her words. His brain performed a mental checklist until he found meaning behind her thoughts. Against all odds, they were managing to hold against a more powerful enemy. Michael himself had dispatched dozens of them himself. The work was far from easy; still it was not the fight he had expected. The dark Nephilim were falling quickly—Michael paused as horror struck his eyes. The Fallen. There were no members of the Fallen race on the enemy side. Thus far, they had only sent their Nephilim to fight. “It’s a trap,” he said.
Angelica nodded. “I fear so.”
Before Michael could shout orders, Caleb and Esther swooped down beside him. “Reports from the rear say there are numerous smaller parties headed in our direction,” Caleb said holding on to a bloody left shoulder.
“It’s the Fallen,” Michael said through clenched teeth. “So far this battle has all been a ploy to draw us in the open while they surround us.”
“But how?” Esther asked taking a knee in the soft sand. “How did they get behind us? How were they able to surround us so quickly?”
“A tunnel system; caves,” Michael paused as he remembered the small goblin like creature that transported Ardat into his tent. Was that yet another hint for him? Some kind of shadow message revealing her plans?
“They could have teleported, too. It doesn’t matter.” Fear sought to take Michael’s heart in that moment. So far, they were able to stand toe to toe with the enemy but these were only the enemy Nephilim. The true test of their strength was yet to come. “How far are they?”
Caleb shook his head before spitting out an answer, “Minutes, less if they have the ability of speed.”
“Angelica, lead our Nephilim and hold this position. Take out the giants next; they're the ones doing the most damage. Caleb, Esther, with me. We aren’t going to let defeat take us this day. Round up as many of the Angels as you can. We’re going to meet them head on.”
Chapter 65
Alan felt like a modern-day knight. Silver armor caught the sun at every angle. He could only imagine what his bright armor and blue wings looked like to everyone else. Along with his weapon and battle suit, Sera also provided him with a long white cloak, the traditional battle garb of the Death Angels. A deep-set hood covered his blond hair, taking the place of any helmet. He wore his colors with pride and flapped his wings in the company of twelve others dressed like him.
Silver armor and white cloaks marked them all as Death Angels. The only thing that set them apart were the weapons they chose to carry. Swords and spears seemed to be the most common choices yet axes, maces, war hammers and shields were also present and accounted for.
The ocean below fell away beneath them as they sped onward towards the fight. Sera instructed the group to gain altitude and fly above the cloud layer to ensure their presence would go undetected. The thirteen warriors and Danielle kept the same blinding pace as they closed the distance to the fight.
Alan was lost thinking about how he had never been on any kind of team before, either sports or academic. He wondered if this counted now. Samson and Deborah appeared on either side of him breaking his train of thought. “So, what do you think?” Samson aske
d.
“About what?” Alan asked.
“You know, the weapons and armor. Feels right, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess it does.”
“Have you ever been in a battle before?” Deborah asked from his other side. “I mean an actual war encompassing thousands of soldiers?”
Alan bit back a sarcastic comment and settled with shaking his head. “No, I don’t think I have.”
“Everything is going to happen quickly,” she said. “Keep moving and stay close to us.”
“You’re going to be okay,” Samson said. “React first and trust your instincts. They’ve seen you safely this far already.”
Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) Page 19