Angels of War (Angels of War Trilogy Book 1)

by Andre Roberts

  President Wallace responded to the beep from his two-way flat screen. He turned on the television and Colonel Frank Andrews face appeared. “Frank, where’s the general?”

  “Dead, sir. So are the Marines.”

  Wallace’s throat constricted, and for one precarious second, he thought he would pass out. His head swirled and the reality around him blurred. He set his chin, narrowed his eyes. “Pull back. Pull everybody back. I want all forces to head east and rally east of Colorado. Andrews, I want your Marines to be the last to go.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Wallace turned off the screen. He stood from the table and pressed a button on the wall behind him. A low motor hummed and the wall slid upwards to reveal a control room half the size of a football field. Three IMAX sized flat screens hung on a wall displaying computerized world maps. Beneath the screens sat a worker pool perched behind several hundred computers. “If my Marines can’t stop them, what next?”

  “Nuke the bastards.” General Black stood and marched over to his boss and leaned over his shoulder. “Nuke them back to Hell, sir.”

  “Gerald, we blew the hell out of them and they came back stronger. I need for someone to find out what they want and soon.” He turned back to the world screens, his fear apparent. “I need to know now before they wipe us out.”

  18

  Hell’s Cathedral stood silent against a gloom-filled backdrop. Los Angeles, covered in smoke and flames, relinquished its once beautiful glory to the fresh horror. The soldiers who clawed their way from Hell’s depths stood amid the ruins, their eyes focused on the pentagram.

  The Screamers took their guard positions around the pentagram built upon Hell’s Cathedral highest tower and remained silent.

  Horns blew from the cathedral’s battlements in a deep bellow. The soldiers stopped their accursed actions and gathered before Hell’s Cathedral in military formations. The Screamers turned to face the cathedral built from bones.

  General Temeculus, a nine-foot giant dressed in a gargoyle head helmet and a Roman general’s rusted armor, stepped out on an expansive patio accompanied by two other Heralds of Hell. One bore a bull’s head, its horns drenched in wet blood. The herald owned a muscled nine-foot body covered in thick shiny fur. He wore a black chainmail tunic around his waist. In his right hand he held a massive battleax. Large Vampire bat wings sat on his back.

  Next to Lord Goth stood a tall slender creature with dead-white skin and obsidian eyes like cold marbles. Large crow wings hung on her back. Long black hair spread over her shoulders in heavy braided tendrils. She wore corrosion-crusted armor with a sword the same reddish color.

  General Temeculus surveyed the battered downtown Los Angeles. His pale face remained placid. His red eyes took in the city stretched out before him. He spotted the dead. Their souls, some, to his dismay, drifted to the sky above. Others sunk and struggled with futility into the blackened blood soaked ground. Those headed below drew a smile to his face.

  General Temeculus lifted his huge head with an anvil-sized chin. He told Lucifer none here would stop him. Even the guardian angels fled his charge. He removed the black gargoyle helmet from his head.

  Long white hair fell down his shoulders packed with hardened muscle. His soldiers roared below, their cheers swelled Temeculus’s dead heart with pride.

  “You are here to do battle and achieve victory. Forsake not my soldiers, Hell’s finest fighters. This is not over. We will crush our enemies and suck the marrow from their bones.”

  His voice boomed and rolled down to his soldiers who lifted their blood-splattered weapons into the air and shouted his name until Hell’s Cathedral walls shook.

  “Soon this planet will be ours to own and command. First earth, next the golden gates of Heaven. We will prepare for our leader, our dear Lucifer who will take his rightful place on the throne and the universe shall be yours.”

  The cheers redoubled. General Temeculus, now satisfied his soldiers remained thirsty for more blood, planned to sow legendary fear among the human worms he wanted to subjugate.

  “Continue to raise hell my dear fighters. For the days here will be long, but the battles more than plentiful.” He drew his sword from its sheath, a once beautiful sword now encrusted with dried blood and rust. He turned away from his soldiers and reentered the massive door. The demon general vanished into Hell’s Cathedral dark confines with his heralds close behind him.

  19

  Joan cantered her head to the left. Whispers rose from beneath her, faint at first until she turned up the volume on her new angelic powers. Their fear-clogged voices reached her ears in one confused hum. Various conversations assaulted her at the same time. Military officers, soldiers, bodyguards, and even the president’s voice seeped from the earth.

  Each person’s voice in the bunker reached her with crystal clarity. As if she sat in a room next to the speaker. She found herself able to turn their voices on and off at will.

  Joan stood from her place on the ground. The crowd still surged near the White House black wrought iron fence. More soldiers showed up to the scene in military trucks. In the distance, black smoke billowed into the air. Sirens wailed as fire trucks raced into the city.

  People started to faint from exhaustion at the White House gates. Onlookers pulled many to the shade.

  Fear lifted into the air and shimmered like heat waves above the agitated people massed together. Joan found herself detached from the madness perched on unhinged violence. She distanced herself from the frail human emotions swarming around her and up into the warm air. Her goal, she reminded herself, remained bent on earth’s protection and Heaven’s safety. Her husband and son died due to her carless actions.

  Joan assured herself they resided in Heaven. Where else would their fragile souls exist? Their safety became her ultimate goal.

  A strong presence neared Joan. White light bloomed in her mind. An angel floated down from the skies and Joan tried and failed to read her thoughts. Like mist, however, the angel’s essence settled upon Joan’s senses enough for her to recognize the agitated spirit.

  “Daisy Lane,” Joan said and turned around.

  Daisy stopped a few feet from the short woman. Her Los Angeles police uniform soiled in blood and dirt stood out amongst the anxious crowd who ignored the out of place cop. Daisy riveted her green eyes on Joan. “I found you.”

  Joan’s arms hung loose at her sides. “Hello to you too, Daisy.”

  Daisy shook her head. “Joan, I am confused.” She took a careful step forward. “The enemy caught me off guard. No one warned me about this, this transformation.”

  “Well, Daisy, my warning didn’t arrive as late as yours. But my wake up still came as a surprise. In time though, your memory will be sharp.”

  Daisy regarded Joan with cool green eyes. “How many years passed since we last met? My God, almost eons.” She swept her eyes about her and returned her bitter gaze upon the angel. “So are you the boss?”

  Joan gave Daisy a quick smile, brilliant white teeth flashed from her mouth. “The archangel Michael said I’m in charge of this.”

  Daisy narrowed her eyes and nodded. “So what happened, Joan? Michael came down to rally the troops, get your blood boiling, and send you off to fight an enemy.”

  “Not so simple, Daisy. We are about to fight the enemy of Heaven and earth.”

  “Did he tell you why the enemy is who he is? Why Satan is Satan?”

  Joan stared at Daisy in silence.

  “This story goes deeper than what Michael told you. And once you find out the truth, you might not be so quick to grab a sword and fight.”

  “God wants us to fight.”

  “Ok, where’s our Lord? Is he here yet? Why are so many people still on earth? Hasn’t the Rapture started?”

  “No Rapture, Daisy.”

  Daisy Lane’s lips turned into a frown. “Well, what is this, Joan?”

  “Do you remember Temeculus?”

  “Lucifer’s confidante, I remember
him.”

  “Well, he is a general in Hell’s army. He’s led a force of a hundred thousand soldiers from Hell to take Heaven and earth.”

  Daisy wrapped her arms about her waist and shivered. “They slaughtered thousands in Los Angeles, Joan?” Tears slid down her face. The people near the White House waded deeper into their own rabid fear. “Thousands.”

  “Yea, Daisy. More are going to die if we don’t gather the other angels. We are five in all.”

  Daisy wiped tears away from her eyes. More soldiers and police gathered at the gates to keep the crowd at bay. “So what is happening now?”

  Joan took a deep breath. “General Temeculus is what’s happening, Daisy Lane. He arrived to earth to breach the other door leading into Hell. If Temeculus finds the Key, the Apocalypse starts now. Only one legion arrived from Hell and landed in Los Angeles. We need to make sure no other legions follow.”

  Daisy took in the people, the thick black smoke in the morning sky. “Why are you standing here doing nothing?”

  “I’m waiting to talk to President Wallace. He’s holding something we need, but he doesn’t know this yet. Not until one of Temeculus’s heralds come over here will he listen to me.”

  “Why don’t you drop in on him? He’ll believe you after you pull a magic trick.”

  Joan shrugged her shoulders. “A little, but he may also think I’m with the enemy. He needs to bear witness to what he’s about to encounter. Also I’m sitting here waiting for you.”

  “Well I’m here,” Daisy said.

  Joan turned toward the upset crowd. The soldiers started to push people from the gate. Within seconds, the crowd grew more agitated. A bottle flipped through the air and shattered against a soldier’s helmeted head. “Things are about to get ugly around here and the world.”

  Joan walked away from the unsettled group turned mob followed by a hesitant Daisy Lane. “What’s wrong, Daisy? Speak your peace, because later is going to be too late.”

  Daisy pursed her lips and wiped a lone tear from her eye. “I got married last year and this craziness happens.”

  Joan’s thoughts drifted back to Charles and William and red rage tightened her stomach. “I lost my family four months ago to console your complaints. All our little problems are nothing…I mean nothing in comparison to this, Daisy Lane.” Joan stopped and faced the tall woman.

  Daisy huffed. Green light flickered in her eyes. “My husband and my life are more than nothing, Joan.”

  Joan moved closer to the angel. “Stifle your personal problems. They die right here. Do you understand me?”

  Daisy turned her head for a moment to contemplate the distraught masses jammed together. She faced Joan’s hard brown eyes. “I understand.”

  “Listen, if we don’t do them, they are going to do us. We have to keep Lucifer in Hell. I need for you to get your head together, Daisy Lane.”

  Joan ran a hand through her black hair and moved further from the crowd. Curses stifled the air as soldiers piled up at the gates. Hummers rolled towards the White House with mounted fifty-caliber machine gun turrets located on their rooftops.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go to Japan. Okura, another angel, is at Mount Fuji. Find him and bring him here. You must talk him out of his mortal slumber. He won’t be too willing to wake up.”

  “Where are the others?”

  “One is in Mexico City, guarding the Key, her name is Maria. The other one is in San Diego at the Marine base.”

  Daisy brushed some dirt from her tattered uniform and smirked at the useless act. “What else do I need to know about this? I want to go kick some ass so I can go back to my normal life.”

  “When everyone is together, I will sit down and tell you everything the archangel Michael told me. For now, Daisy, I need you to go.”

  Someone screamed. A commotion erupted behind the two angels. A cop drove his baton into a fat man’s belly.

  Daisy flinched as the baton sunk deep into the man’s swollen stomach. Her wide apart green eyes blinked several times as a soldier dropped his rifle, tore off his camouflaged shirt, and dove into the hysterical multitude. A larger soldier shouted profanities in his wake.

  Daisy sucked in air. “The world is falling apart? This is the end of mankind.”

  “Mankind’s end is what we are trying to prevent. I’m afraid if the earth falls, Heaven will be next. Lucifer must be stopped. Go. Go now to Mount Fuji and be careful in Japan.”

  “I’ll go, Joan. Aren’t you afraid? Afraid your life and everything else will be destroyed?”

  “I’m resting on faith. Also, try not to lose your head taking on more than you can handle. Several millennia passed since our last fight, Daisy Lane. We will survive this mess.”

  Daisy’s eyes fell to her hands as she lifted them. “Holding those axes again came good and natural to me. I wanted to kill all those screaming things. But the guardian angels took off running.”

  “A wise move on their part. This, Daisy, is what you would call a small scale operation.”

  Daisy laughed aloud. Her laughter drew harsh stares. She ignored them. “Biblically speaking.”

  Joan smiled. “Be quick and be safe, Daisy Lane.”

  Daisy nodded, turned and ran. Huge wings spread out behind her as her form dimmed from mortal view. She drew her sword and took off to the skies as a Viking Warrior graced with wings. She flew into the blue, becoming a silver glint and vanished.

  20

  Joan moved a few feet from the crowd as more shouts erupted. The National Guard and police formed a tight line and began to push the mob away from the gates.

  The scene before her dripped with frantic volatility, as if the people wanted to rush into the White House for safety. The sun took on a burnt orange glow several hours before sunset. The skies dimmed and the wrongness played over the people gathered at the White House gate.

  Joan’s wait gave her ample time to think more. What did the word angel mean to her? An odd smile crossed her face as the question raced through her mind. She never thought about angels too much. Her pastor told her about angels in sermons from his oak pulpit. She thought of angels as God’s bellhops and butlers.

  Joan’s new responsibilities swirled in her head. Save earth to save Heaven. She wanted her family saved the most.

  The crowd remained raucous and to her amazement no gunshots peppered the heated area. Michael told her the world depended on them to keep the back gate closed.

  Michael reminded her about the Battle of Seven Gates. Lucifer’s rebellion led to his expulsion from Heaven. Joan, however, sensed more remained to the story than Michael wanted to tell. Daisy delivered Joan an obvious hint.

  She tugged the old memories from the footlocker in her mind, recalling her goodbyes to everyone close to her in Heaven. Michael held Joan’s hands with a firm grip. He seemed worried and reluctant to part with his favorite pupil. A mortal life came with unbearable pains, mixed with good experiences along the way.

  Joan scanned the area with brown eyes bordered with long black lashes. Within thirty minutes, the crowd thickened with spectators. People prayed, preached, sung, cursed, shoved and threw objects at the White House security guards as they stumbled towards the mob. A shadow passed over her. Her skin Brailed along the forearms, sweat trickled from behind her earlobes. A dark evil hurtled its way from the west.

  Her angelic powers picked up its speed. The dark evil moved with a cold purpose. Her heart sped up and mouth dried. Fear crept up her body and she questioned whether the short refresher match Michael gave her would hold up to this.

  A roar lifted into the air. The skies, streaked with a blood-red light, intensified the crowd’s madness. An explosion and shockwave erupted first, followed by a huge fireball. Joan considered the blast a magician’s trick laced with steroids. Everyone, and Joan included, hit the ground. Black smoke swirled and formed over the White House front lawn.

  Joan narrowed her eyes against the smoke. Sulfur’s harsh and unmista
kable rotten egg odor poured over the crowd like a gas attack. The mob scrambled to their feet and ran. Both cops and soldiers almost joined the throng in their dash from the explosion.

  Joan wondered whether to change into her war armor. As the smoke cleared, a huge black battleax swung out from the gray curls in wide circular arcs. The dark blade cut the air with a heavy whoosh. Two horns and a bull’s head emerged from the dusky haze.

  “Lord Goth,” she said under her breath. Goth remained silent as the black and yellow smoke cleared. He stood nine feet tall and commanded the center lawn. He swung his battleax, weaving pandemic fear throughout the crowd. The soldiers and cops aimed their weapons and began to shoot.

  The civilian crowd trampled over each other in their frantic escape. Their screams congealed and swelled into one horrible squall. Over five thousand people moved in one direction like frightened cattle. Some died in the hysterical rush. The armed teams continued to shoot at Lord Goth who changed into human form. He walked into the bullet storm undaunted. More soldiers raced from the White House headed straight for Goth.

  A bad idea.

  Lord Goth, dressed in all black coveralls, wore dried human skins. He sprinted forward, vaulted the White House wrought iron fence and landed amongst the uniformed men and women. He hacked away at them with his iron weapon. Screams rose from the brave souls who challenged the Hell spawn. He severed many limbs. Blood splashed against his muscular body.

  He hacked and hacked with relish as he worked his way through every human who stood before him. He hacked off arms, legs, and heads. He halved torsos and grinned as life winked out from his victim’s eyes. He resembled a giant coal miner gone mad. His red eyes blazed under a head thick with black hair, his face smeared in soot.

  Lord Goth swung his weapon like a five iron. The ground at his feet became slick with blood and gore. He stopped his attack with the long battleax and rested its spiked butt upon the ground.

  “Tell your president to come out and face me. If not, I shall kill everyone in this cursed city.” His voice rolled, loud enough to reach the terrified crowd.