by Tim Marquitz
Before the words had even cleared her mouth, Scarlett launched herself at Rafal, the closest to her. With her sword missing, presumably still in the hands of Asmoday, she led with her fists. To the accompaniment of thunder, Scarlett crashed into her foe. A flash of blinding light exploded when they collided, the two locked in a streaking comet of whirling limbs. The impact carried them across the room and through the wall of the barn where a cloud of dust and wooden splinters obscured their passage.
Certain Scarlett could take care of herself, I turned back to survey the battle field. Rahim, though weakened by his earlier fight with McConnell, seemed to be holding his own. Like a mythical Gandalf, he had fashioned a sword and shield out of pure energy and stood fast on the front line. Each sweep of his mystical sword carved a deep swath through the ranks of Asmoday’s minions. Though it seemed to do little damage, the angels defending against it with their own magic, it seemed to keep them at bay. It had claimed at least one victim, however. A fiend lay face down on the dusty floor, its stomach gaping wide like the mouth of a carnival fun ride. Its moist intestines bubbled out from underneath it, a never-ending serpent of black and deep red. Wafts of steam and putrid scents drifted from the wound, a gentle serenade of hissing accompanying it. Katon, skulking behind the wizard, darted out between Rahim’s strokes and struck at the minions with his crimson blade. I watched as his enchanted weapon split the ribs of a Dread Fiend, its point piercing the creature’s heart. Its eyes rolled back in its head as the vampire pulled his sword free. It shuddered and dropped cold the instant the blade was removed, Katon dancing back to the safety of Rahim’s defenses. Wanting a piece of the action myself, I drew my guns and aimed them at the angels. I figured a couple more souls would look good on my spiritual resume. But before I could fire, I saw a flash of movement at the edge of my vision. My head did the math. Malis and Urtel stood before Rahim and Katon, three fiends with them. A fourth fiend lay dead and Rafal was having his head pounded in by Scarlett outside. That left a fiend unaccounted for.
That was, until right then. I really need to pay more attention.
I growled as I spun, leveling my pistols. The fiend was faster, a trend I was getting real tired of, let me tell you. Its claws sunk into the meat of my side and a split second later, its shoulder rammed into my chest. The wind knocked from me, I sucked in a gasping breath as I was lifted into the air and slammed onto my back.
My left hand struck the ground hard and the pistol in it popped loose, to bounce out of reach. I clutched tighter to the other one as the fiend dropped down on my chest, its taloned hand clutching at my arm to keep me from putting my gun to use.
It leaned in toward me with its snarling mouth just inches from my face, its yellowish quills quivering even closer. I managed to slide my free arm in between us, pressing against its neck to keep it away some. It was too little space to give me much comfort and it was too strong for me to hold it for long. It tore at my defending arm, ripping open bubbling wounds that oozed black blood. I could feel my arm weakening beneath the assault. It wouldn’t be long before it failed me altogether.
Its rancid breath curled my nose hairs as it snorted and huffed, trying to bite my face off. Droplets of rank spittle rained down over me. I did my best to not think about what kind of cooties I could catch from it. While the least of my worries at that particular moment, I couldn’t help but think about it while gnashing rows of rotten teeth clacked together above me in a rhythmic tattoo, like lines of dark soldiers marching off to war. With every passing second, ravaging and horribly stinky death inched closer.
I struggled beneath the fiend, casting a quick glance to see if my companions had seen my predicament. My heart dropped when I saw they also were close to being overrun. There’d be no help from them.
Desperate, I thrashed from side to side, trying my hardest to delay the seemingly inevitable. The fiend held tight, its claws digging deeper into my arm, the other shredding what remained of my left. Its foul stench struck me like a fist as its gaping mouth pressed closer to my eyes, its bony quills jabbing into my cheeks and forehead. Looking up into the maw of the fiend, its rows of shark-like teeth and dripping putrescence, I knew that wasn’t how I wanted to go out. Give me a good old-fashioned heart attack any day.
Frantic, I bucked my hips up and just managed to get my legs beneath it before it settled its weight back down. Not wasting a second, considering how few I had left, I spread my legs and set my feet on the inside of the fiend’s hips. I mustered all my strength and kicked my legs out, pushing as best I could with my wounded arm. Caught off guard, the fiend’s lower body was lifted into the air and shoved back about a foot as I yanked my right arm in the opposite direction. It caught its balance and dropped its weight back onto me but not before its restraining hand had slipped free of my arm. Its oval eyes went wide when it realized what I’d done. I could see the reflection of the gun barrel in them as I brought it to bear. I squeezed my eyes shut and hunkered down as I tapped the trigger repeatedly, the gun hovering just above my nose. I could feel the heat from its report, the smoking hot casings raining down over me. The. 45’s vicious bark was like music to my deafened ears. The fiend’s screeches like a symphony of base satisfaction.
The seven silver deaths struck in rapid succession, each leaving behind a little less of the fiend’s ugly face than the last, all wreaking destruction in their wake. Its warm and gooey blood rained down on me, tiny droplets of gross. I could taste the fetid sickness in my mouth and smell its putrid scent in my nose. It was real hard not to vomit.
The screams ended and I felt a moist splash on my chest as the fiend collapsed, the remnants of its head like a shattered pumpkin oozing down my ribs. I shuddered and kicked the thing off of me, wiping at my face to clear my eyes before I opened them. I didn’t want any of that vile nastiness in them. I managed to get most of the goop off, but there was nothing I could do about the reeking funk that lingered like an unwelcome house guest.
Knowing I had more important things to worry about, I fumbled at my ammo belt with my one good hand, my left arm hanging lifeless at my side, and looked to see where we stood in the battle. I should have kept my eyes closed.
Separated from Katon, Rahim was caught between the two angels, both doing their damndest to kill him in close quarters. It was enough apparently. As Rahim spun to deflect the first angel’s blow, Urtel slipped behind him and drove his glowing fist into the wizard’s back just above the hips. Twenty yards away, I heard the crack of Rahim’s spine snapping. My stomach reeled as the wizard cried out and crumpled to the ground in a broken heap.
Rage tunneled my vision as I wriggled the cartridge into the gun with my one good hand and slammed it home against my leg. I chambered the first round with my teeth and ran off after the angels, my. 45 leading the way. Distracted by their victory, the two batting Rahim back and forth between them like kittens, adding insult to injury, they didn’t see me coming. Big mistake.
I stepped up behind Urtel and rammed my gun hard into his back. “An eye for an eye,” I shouted as I squeezed the trigger.
The report was even more satisfying than when I’d shot the fiend. The first bullet ripped into Urtel and shattered his spine in much the same way he had Rahim’s, a fountain of golden blood springing up in its wake. The second and third rounds finished the job. He died in silence.
I felt cheated he’d died so quickly. I wanted the bastard to suffer.
Malis would have to suffer for him.
I shouldered the still-standing corpse out of my way and turned my gun on the remaining angel. There was fear in his eyes.
He had good reason to be afraid.
There are horrors so vile, so blasphemous, lurking in the depths of Hell that even Clive Barker would be hard pressed to imagine. What I intended to do to Malis made those horrors pale in comparison. But even with the best laid plans, reality has a way of intruding. Once again, in the heat of combat, I’d forgotten about the soul transfer. My hand shook as I raised my pistol, a
flood of warmth dancing across my nerves. I moaned as the blood in my veins ignited, my eyes fluttering closed in response to the orgasmic rush. I heard a shuffle of feet moving toward me and sighed, knowing my involuntary hesitation had cost me my shot at retribution. Still in the throes of the transfer, I waited to get hit.
I wasn’t disappointed.
I felt the tell-tale wave of heat an instant before the blast struck. Like a tennis ball smacked by a racket, I was flung backward, my arms and legs trailing out in front of me. My eyes opened to see wisps of black smoke curling away from me as I flew through the air, the room whipping by. The only comfort I had was it didn’t hurt. The essence of Urtel’s soul was still in flux inside my system. That was a good thing because I didn’t feel the barn wall as I smashed through it or the hard ground that rushed up to meet me at the end of my flight. After the impact, I rolled end over end until I came to a stop in the knee-high grass outside, broken pieces of the red wooden wall scattered all around me. A trail of flattened greenery and scarred earth marked my passage from landing point to final destination. Once the majority of the transfer had subsided, I got to my feet, my body tingling. I was relieved to see my left arm had regained its motion, its strength returned. I was even more thrilled to find I still had my gun. I’d gotten off lucky. That wasn’t true for all of us. Reminded of Rahim and what I’d been doing before being sent on a ride, I gritted my teeth. With vengeance on my mind, I stalked back to the barn. As I neared it, I heard a scrabbling of claws on wood and looked up to see a Dread Fiend crouched in the hole where I’d smashed through the wall. He howled a gravelly challenge to me as I approached. I answered his bark with a bite, four of them, to be precise. Without hesitation I emptied what remained in the clip into the fiend’s snarling mouth.
Its challenge died on its hairy lips as the bullets blasted huge holes in the back of its head. A death rattle gurgled deep in its throat and it tumbled from its perch, falling face first into a heap at the base of the barn wall. I smiled wide as it hit. There was something satisfying about the way it laid there, its tongue lolling out of its open mouth, its ass up in the air. It was as if the lack of decency it showed in life was reflected in its death. I felt it fitting.
I pushed aside my armchair psychology and returned to the barn. I dug out another cartridge and cursed as I realized I only had one more left. I slammed it in, hoping I wouldn’t need more than that. With a snarl, I leapt through the same hole I’d exited just moments before, wondering what awaited me on the other side. I landed in a crouch, scanning the scene. I arrived just in time to see Scarlett and Katon dispatch the last of the fiends. Scarlett rode one into the ground, her tiny fists a blur of motion outlined by streams of yellowish blood and bile. The creature crumbled beneath her onslaught.
Katon danced inside of the other’s reach and drove his blade deep into its lungs, his arm wrapped tight around the fiend’s neck. I could see the fury in his eyes, his face etched with deep lines of murderous rage as he twisted the blade.
Malis lay in moist pieces across the floor like a fleshy puzzle. Not all the king’s horses or all the king’s men would be putting this Humpty Dumpty back together again. His head, separated from the rest had rolled into a corner where its eyeless sockets stared up at the ceiling. His arms and legs were scattered about, ripped viciously apart at each individual joint. His bloody, battered torso sat in the center of the room, its ribs caved in.
I wasn’t sure which of the two had done it, but
I was buying them both a beer once all this was over. They’d earned it.
I took stock of all the bodies, making sure all of Asmoday’s minions were accounted for, holstered my gun, and raced to Rahim’s side. Katon and Scarlett got there less than a second later.
To my surprise, he was still alive.
He looked up at us as we gathered around him, his eyes reflecting the pain I knew he’d never voice. At seeing him, Katon knelt down and buried his face into the old wizard’s chest. Weakly, Rahim draped his arm over Katon’s head and pulled him in tighter. He squeezed his eyes shut as a single tear slipped from the corner and ran down his cheek. A quiet sob slipped from Scarlett as she turned away from the pair, hiding her face. For all the rage and violence that festered inside her, she would forever be an agent of the Lord. Her heart would forever be vulnerable to tragedy.
Unable to help, I simply let them be. They stayed there for several minutes, neither speaking nor breaking the embrace. Unwilling to interrupt, I stood and started to back away when I noticed Rahim looking at me.
“How bad?” I asked, knowing full well I wasn’t going to like the answer. He, no doubt, hated to admit it even more.
“My spine is shattered,” he said as he took a deep, laborious breath. His face winced with the effort.
Katon pulled away to make it easier, settling in beside him. “I can’t feel anything below my chest. It’s all dead.”
My heart sank. In my mind, that was worse than death. “We need to get you back to DRAC.” I knew it was the right thing to do, but I wasn’t even sure that’d help.
While the members of DRAC had performed many miracles since their inception, healing on the scale Rahim required wasn’t one of them. Forget all the stories you’ve heard about preachers or wizards healing the crippled and bringing the dead back to life, same as they were before. They aren’t true. Outside of God and the Devil, no one has the level of power or control necessary to truly resurrect the dead or make a crippled man walk again. Magic doesn’t work that way. For all its vaunted reputation, it’s rarely useful for anything more than destruction. While somewhat flexible, conforming to the imagination of its specific wielder, its true nature is brute force. The hammer never cures the anvil.
The soul transfer, the closest thing to a miracle in today’s Godless world, would also be useless to him. As a human, Rahim had no ability to partake of a supernatural being’s soul. While his suffering could be eased by judicious magical rituals and modern medicine, Rahim’s future was in the hands of fate and the surgeons in the employ of DRAC.
He knew this better than any of us.
“There is still much to do, my friends, but I’m afraid I can do little to help.” Rahim patted Katon on the leg to motivate him, his moist eyes never leaving mine.
“Take me home.”
Page 247
History Lessons
Back at DRAC, Katon having escorted the doctors who wheeled Rahim into surgery, Scarlett and I were left alone in the small waiting room. Unable to remain still, she paced the room from one end to the other, her leather pants squeaking faintly with every step. So rattled by how fast we’d fallen apart, I sat with my head in my hands and stared at the carpet. I couldn’t even bring myself to think something sexual about the sound Scarlett was making. That alone was a sure sign of Armageddon coming to pass.
With Abraham held captive by Baalth and Rahim broken, perhaps never to walk again, all that was left of the Council was Rachelle. As powerful and as good a person as she was, she would be little help from this point on. Even if she did sense the next ritual, it would be too late to stop it.
Asmoday had done well for himself. In just a few short days, he’d decimated DRAC, clearing the way for the end of the world. Not bad for an underachiever who had been kicked out of Heaven for being the errand boy who delivered the apple to Eve.
Speaking of misguided angels, I glanced up at Scarlett. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
She stopped her pacing and looked at me with baleful eyes, nodding.
“How did Asmoday manage to kidnap you?”
Her face twisted weirdly, as if unsure of what expression to make. “He didn’t.” She took a deep breath, letting it out slow. “Gabriel did.”
I leaned back in the chair, whistling. Scarlett had been drug through the wringer ever since the war broke out and she was forced to take sides. It’d been hard on her having to turn her back on her friends, people she’d known since she came into existence, who had chosen to fo
llow the path of Gabriel. Family one moment, enemies a heartbeat later, she never quite grasped the concept of angels not being the good guys. Her heart belonged to the Angelic Choir of old and she just couldn’t understand why it wasn’t that way with all of the angels.
Gabriel’s betrayal had to have been almost as painful to her as God’s disappearance had been. Everything she was, her whole world view, was tied up in the premise that God was on high and he would lead, she would follow. She’d only recently begun to accept the fact things were different these days and they probably would never go back to being the way she remembered. Now, with Gabriel kidnapping her, all that pain had to have come rushing back, the fresh scars torn open and left to bleed.
I felt for her deep down, though I had to admit I Page 249 was glad I was on the other side of all that. Demons and betrayal went hand in hand, it went without saying. It was never a matter of if. It was always a matter of when. It’s so much easier to deal with that kind of crap when you know to expect it. She hadn’t been raised in that environment like I had. This was all new to her. Though I knew it was eating her up inside, on the surface, she seemed to handle it well enough.
“He’s gone insane, you know?”
I’d kinda thought that already. I just nodded, letting her go on.
“Though he didn’t say it directly, I think he believes God will come back if he wipes out the world. He blames the humans for so exhausting God’s patience He was driven to abandon us.” A saw a shiver run through her. “He’s not going to stop until we’re all gone, Frank.”
Hours earlier I might have argued with her, enough of my confidence still alive to make a case for hope. I’d have told her we had a chance of stopping Gabriel and Asmoday and we could still win out. But now, I couldn’t even lie to her, let alone to myself. I sank down in my seat, worn out both mentally and physically. Scarlett saw my resignation and went back to pacing.