Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3)

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Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3) Page 8

by Aaron Babbitt


  “Then, the prophets changed the rules. You all went on television to tell the world that there is a war between Heaven and Hell being waged in their backyards. And I’m afraid they’re starting to believe you. I can feel it. Their doubt is fading, and fear will soon set in. When it does, the prophets will have to act quickly to assure humanity that you’re on its side. Otherwise, you risk the demons organizing another witch hunt to finish you all off.

  “Lonny and Nisus have chosen to stand with you. They used everything they had tonight, as well as what little I could spare, to show their fans in Las Vegas what kind of peril the world is in and to drive those fans into action. Demons have manufactured drugs, altered public education, and deadened minds with tools such as television and the internet—all in the name of apathy. The use of our powers to influence the crowd only gives them back what they had before.

  “I thought the prophets would appreciate the spectacle tonight, as you have already made people all over the world aware of the presence of ‘supernatural’ beings. You set the stage, and Nisus played on it, as it were.”

  “We can’t deny that,” Elizabeth conceded. “We did start this, but we haven’t used our powers to manipulate masses of people.”

  “Really?” Teacher asked skeptically. “I don’t know that I would agree with that statement. John certainly manipulated anyone who saw the footage of his fight with those demons. And I know for a fact that the Elder Prophet Council has sanctioned the use of mass manipulation on many occasions. The very existence of beings such as ourselves—further evolved, prophetic, whatever you prefer—is manipulation. People like us are key figures in their holy books; we’re the ones who have pulled them, kicking and screaming, into new eras of thought and advancement to become their heroes and villains. Manipulation is what we do, Ms. O’Dell. If you haven’t learned that by now, I hesitate to say that Abbie has done you a disservice.”

  “We don’t do what you did,” Alex objected.

  Teacher gave a raspy chuckle and replied, “You will, Alex.” After some thought, he added, “However, you’re not there yet. I admire your innocence and wish you the best of luck, but I regret that I cannot join you on your journey. I have obligations to my order. However, it is my understanding that Lonny and Nisus will go to Kingstone after they’ve taken care of some business.”

  Alex nodded. “Well, you will be welcome any time you like.”

  “I appreciate your kindness,” Teacher said, bowing slightly.

  “We’ve kept your fans waiting long enough,” Matt acknowledged. “We’ll look forward to seeing you again in Kingstone.”

  The prophets said their goodbyes and left. Jeremiah had arranged a private jet to fly them home immediately after the concert. He insisted, against everyone’s objections, that they not return to the mansion for any reason. Elizabeth’s computer had been loaded onto the plane, as well as anything else Jeremiah thought might be important. And within an hour after the concert had ended, the prophets were in flight back to Missouri.

  ***

  She opened the door to his office as quietly as she could, but, even though he was facing the window, Jeremiah still heard her enter. His perceptions were on the highest alert now. His mind was singularly focused on an enemy that he knew waited just beyond reach.

  “Yes?” he asked, annoyed slightly by the interruption of his seemingly futile vigilance.

  “Matt called,” Abbie told him. “They’re on their way home.”

  “Good. Now, you need to round up all of the prophets on the property and get them ready to evacuate.”

  “Marla and Nagina will be suited to that purpose,” Abbie replied confidently.

  The demon sighed. “We’ve been over this.”

  “Yes we have, Jeremiah. Nevertheless, I may hate to admit it, but you have become my friend. I intend to stand and fight alongside you, here, until I can convince you to come with me to Kingstone. That is the least I can do to repay all you’ve done for me.”

  “You have an especially short memory,” he said. “I’ve killed countless prophets. I’ve even tried to kill you from time to time. No, I will not allow you to stay. I will not be responsible for the death of even one more prophet. You will lead them as we already decided. Take them to Kingstone, and protect Alex. That’s your job. I now have a different one.”

  Abbie wiped away tears that had formed in her eyes. “All right. But remember: You don’t have to die here. Hurt them if you must. Though, if there is any chance of escape after you have exhausted your resources, you must promise me you’ll take it—for Alex’s sake, if nothing else.”

  “I promise that, if I still live after I’ve exhausted my resources, I will accompany you as soon as I can.”

  Abbie nodded wordlessly, turned, and walked out of the room. She closed the door behind her, and Jeremiah fell immediately back into his thoughts.

  ***

  Caleb stalked through the woods outside of Kingstone in the dead of night. He was keenly aware of the prophetic influence to the north, the safe house—his destination. Heeding the call of the Hunter General was inconvenient, as Caleb had been in the middle of a week-long hunt in Egypt for a particularly aggressive demon, but Garrett had never personally summoned him before; this had to be quite important. So he reluctantly dropped everything he was doing and headed to Missouri.

  He crested a hill and was startled to see that Garrett was standing on the other side, beaming happily.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” the Hunter General announced. “I’m sorry to say that I’ve only been able to greet a couple other hunters on their way to the safe house.”

  “I came as quickly as I could,” Caleb replied. “The situation must be urgent.”

  Garrett motioned for Caleb to walk with him, and they moved in the direction that held the strongest sensation of prophets.

  “Indeed. The Morning Star is on the prowl, in this very town.”

  The younger hunter stopped abruptly. “Lucifer is here?”

  “Oh, yes. I don’t know what his intentions are yet, but it does my heart good to know that so many have answered the call.”

  Caleb nodded, and they continued walking, almost leisurely. Something was nagging at him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something didn’t seem quite right. Then it dawned on the younger hunter. Once more, he stopped, and his hands went to the hilts of the daggers on his belt. Garrett stopped walking as well and slowly turned.

  Noting the position of Caleb’s hands and the questioning gaze in the hunter’s eyes, Garrett cocked an eyebrow. “It’s because I said ‘his,’ isn’t it? I debated on saying ‘its,’ but that just sounded awkward in my head.”

  “Where is Garrett?”

  “He’s close, but not close enough, I’m afraid, to do much for you now.” With that, the image of the eldest demon hunter changed into one that was identical to Caleb.

  Caleb sprang into action and deftly drew his daggers. He drove one high, toward the fiend’s neck, and the other toward its stomach. With uncanny speed, his double smacked both hands outward and planted a fist in his face, sending the hunter stumbling back a few feet.

  “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that hunters would dehumanize us,” the other commented as Caleb took a defensive stance. “After all, we aren’t human. But it still seems rude. Perhaps I should invent a new pronoun for those of the angelic persuasion.”

  Caleb ran and leaped at the demon, intending to use his training and innate abilities to force the monster’s strength against itself. But, before he could reach his opponent, the demon was gone, and he was on the ground, looking around wildly.

  The mocking voice came from behind him: “You know, I could use someone like you. Believe it or not, not all fallen angels like each other, and it takes up too much of my time to eliminate all of the competition. Think about it! You would still get to do what you love—a noble profession, to be sure, and I would have the distinct pleasure of being able to say that I have employed a demon hunter.
It’s a win-win in my book.”

  With a growl, Caleb rose to his feet, turned, and stared hard at his double.

  The demon grinned. “You’re considering it. I can tell.”

  “Never!” the hunter shouted and hurled one of his daggers at the fiend’s skull.

  Unconcernedly, the demon caught it by the blade and dropped it to the ground. “Such conviction. I’m sure Garrett would be proud. But why waste your life on this one fight when so many more await you? I’m good at making deals that are agreeable to all involved parties. Aren’t you even going to give me a chance?” After a pause, it continued, “Okay; you drive a hard bargain. I’ll sweeten the deal: You come with me tonight, as my loyal servant, and I will stop slaughtering your friends in these woods. Good business requires compromise. It’s a one-time only offer, and it expires in five seconds.”

  “I’ll never make a deal with an abomination,” Caleb spat back.

  With a shrug of its shoulders and a sigh, the demon stooped to pick up the dagger at its feet and tossed it lazily to the ground where Caleb stood. “Not that this was ever going to be a fair fight, but I’d feel better if you had both of your little knives.”

  “God give me strength,” the hunter muttered as he reached down to pick up the dagger.

  “Oh, sure. Don’t bother asking for world peace or anything. Well, it doesn’t matter anyway; he isn’t listening.”

  Caleb composed himself and ran at the fiend, but he never got within a foot of his target. His arms flew out to the side involuntarily, and he could feel himself lose his grip on the blades. Caleb heard them clank against nearby trees, and, suddenly, his sight was gone. He felt himself being levitated off the ground, and heard his adversary chuckling.

  “I truly wish you had chosen better,” the demon lamented. “I didn’t think you would, but just imagine what we could have accomplished together.”

  “You are Lucifer,” the hunter concluded

  “I am so named. It means ‘shining one’ or ‘light bringer.’ In your case, ‘light remover’ might be more fitting. In any event, it’s a name I’ve shared with others, including the planet, Venus. I’m not sure it does justice to an angel who played a serious role in forming the stars, but I suppose it will suffice.

  “After all this time, I’m still horrible with goodbyes. So, instead, I guess I’ll just say that the pleasure was all mine, I assure you.”

  Caleb’s body exploded in a brilliant display of bright hues. When the lights subsided, there was no trace of his body or the Devil.

  Chapter 3

  We always knew that a price existed for what we did. Every battle we waged, every soul we saved, every dream realized came at a cost. But we had an objective, a mandate: to help Alex Tanner unite the prophets into a single, cohesive, glorious force for good. However, when I reflect on those days, I can see that we had another mission, even if none of us would have believed it at the time. Jeremiah needed us to help him find his soul, and I’m happy to say that I have never met a being more deserving of absolution.

  --Abigail Martin, Through the Eyes of a Martyr

  “Sir,” Iblis said with a bow as he approached Metatron.

  Metatron had created a headquarters out of a recreation center just outside of Las Vegas. Many of the demons were gathered here; some were patrolling the area, and a few were on reconnaissance. Metatron had taken one of the offices as his own and threatened pain upon anyone who disturbed him without a very good reason.

  “What is it?” Metatron demanded, perturbed. The former Voice of God seemed to be looking over schematics of Jeremiah’s mansion when he was interrupted.

  “The children are in flight as we speak.”

  Now, he had Metatron’s attention. “Good. You know your position. It’s time to attack.”

  Iblis bowed slightly and hurriedly walked away, preparing himself to command his horde of demons to attack a most lethal adversary. A hundred demons and twice as many men should be more than enough to completely annihilate any real threat, even a heavily protected prophet safe house. But this place was not only protected by prophets, one of which he knew to be Abigail Martin. The previous general of Metatron’s army had designed the trap Iblis knew they were walking into. Jeremiah had personally trained many of the demons poising to strike his compound. And he undoubtedly knew they were coming; even Metatron had admitted as much.

  Iblis was aware that no matter how difficult they had predicted storming Jeremiah’s mansion to be, it would be harder. With all of his resources and cunning, Jeremiah would almost certainly give them more than they bargained for. Iblis himself had been trained as a warrior demon in large part by Jeremiah, and he’d seen how the enemies of the general were dealt with: swiftly, without mercy or reservation. And, though he may no longer be high commander of the only organized group of demons on the planet, Jeremiah would deal with his enemies the same this time as he always did.

  “Iblis,” Metatron barked, causing the other to stop and slowly turn. “No one kills Jeremiah except me. I will find and personally destroy any demon or human who does. Detain him if you must, but do not kill him. Understood?”

  “Of course.” Iblis again bowed and walked away.

  ***

  “They’re coming,” Jeremiah said without emotion, looking into the night.

  “I feel them,” agreed Abbie.

  They both stood before Jeremiah’s picture window in his study, waiting for the storm.

  “What do we do now?” she asked.

  “I’m going out to prepare to meet our uninvited visitors. You need to get your prophets ready. My sources tell me that we have about five minutes before they start arriving. There are already demons within a mile of us.”

  It was then that Marla knocked and, without waiting for a reply, barged into the room. “Our primary lines of communication have been cut.”

  The lights flickered and faded. Momentarily they returned, but they were dimmer.

  “They’ve cut our power too,” Jeremiah noted, looking at the strength of the lights and cursing himself for not installing more generators. Not that the electricity would make much difference now. “But none of this was unexpected.”

  “Jeremiah, including Nagina and me, there are less than fifty prophets on this property. What are we supposed to do?”

  “We have been over the plan,” Jeremiah said walking toward the door. “This isn’t your fight. Las Vegas has only been meant as a diversion since Alex left. We can’t win this one; we can only hope to hold their attention long enough for me to get a good, clean shot off at Metatron. I may be able to give you fifteen minutes to get everyone safely off the property, but you know how these sorts of things go.”

  With that, Jeremiah walked out of his office, leaving Abbie and Marla stunned.

  The Elder Prophet sighed. “Well, Marla, I guess we have a job in front of us.”

  “I should stay here with Jeremiah,” Marla protested.

  “No, dear,” Abbie said firmly. “You can’t sway this battle much now.”

  ***

  Jeremiah stepped out onto the roof, and five snipers stood to salute him.

  He waved the pseudo-respect away and spoke directly to the commanding officer, whom he had chosen to be his personal messenger and given commanding authority over all the other squads to.

  “Radio the other men to fall back and surround the mansion. Bar all the gates, and pull everyone in to protect the inner gate. Lay the land mines I showed you earlier between each gate. We can’t hope to hold as much ground as this compound sits on, but if we pull back, we can make them regret every step they take closer to us.

  “You snipers and the grenadiers will do what you can to keep as many of those demons from getting inside the inner gate as you can. Everyone else will be on the ground with me, killing anything that comes through. God willing, some of my air support will be here by then. Nothing that actually enters the mansion is your responsibility. In fact, when the demons get that far, send out the call to e
vacuate; get as far away as you can. I’ll handle things from there.

  “Follow my directives precisely, and most of you will live. If I signal retreat, everyone must do so immediately by any means necessary. Is any of this unclear?”

  “No, sir,” the commanding sniper replied.

  “Good. Communicate this to the rest of the squads, and tell them to be prepared to engage the enemy as soon as possible.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Jeremiah turned and walked away. Though he was immune to human cravings and addictions, he really wanted a cigarette at that moment.

  ***

  Abbie and Marla first went to get Nagina. It would probably take all three of them to rouse and prepare almost fifty prophets to evacuate. Abbie explained that the best course of action would be to split up. Marla would get on the intercom and make an announcement to all prophets and human staff, informing them to meet outside the conference room immediately, adding that it might be important to stress that there is imminent danger. Abbie would send a telepathic all-call to any prophet in the area, telling them the same. Nagina, then, would organize everyone as people began arriving outside the conference room. There, Marla would lead prophets and humans alike to a secret tunnel that should lead all to safety. Even if everything worked according to plan, fifteen minutes—well, more like twelve, now—would not be enough time.

 

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