Judas: The Relic (The Iscariot Warrior Series Book 2)

by Roy Bright

  Gary’s thought process and reasoning has always been something that Judas has admired a great deal, and as he watches him, the cogs spinning within the former detective’s mind, he can’t help but think back to their first meeting, to how resourceful and focused on management he was. He had lost some of that over the years, forced to play second fiddle to Charlotte and himself as they attempted to figure out how to fix the world, but today he was back to his old self, commanding, dominant, and – as always – right. His thoughts then turn to Abi, the other member of the party entrusted to protect the six-year-old old Charlotte, and his heart sinks a little, remembering how he had been forced to kill her, how Lucifer had played him with such ease. Although he had known her for but a brief moment in life, he misses her, how she had remained so resolute even in the face of overwhelming terror, how she had protected Charlotte as a mother would. She was a good woman, despite what she had thought of herself following the unborn life she had taken that had been growing inside of her. An act her Catholic beliefs had ultimately condemned her to Lucifer’s control. One day Lucifer will pay for what he did to her. He curses himself. Too much dwelling on the past and not enough focus on the present, the task at hand, and so he pushes thoughts of her from his mind, not wanting to dwell on them any longer. He smiles at Gary. “You are quite right.” He turns toward the military representatives. “Colonel, I would be very grateful if you and your men would now listen to Gary here. Advise and assist in any way you can, because this man knows a great deal about how to survive out there and I trust him implicitly. Please extend that courtesy to him.”

  Colonel Taylor has seen too much action to let ego and petty rank squabbles get in the way of solid planning and teamwork, and he has no intention of letting such fruitless notions cloud his judgment when it comes to protecting what remains of the people he is responsible for. He nods at him. “Absolutely. No problem whatsoever. Detective Cross is on point, and we follow his lead.”

  “Thank you Colonel.” He smiles at him.

  Charlotte smiles at him as well. “Yes, thank you Nathan and please look after the daft old fool, he is very precious to me.” She turns around and smirks at Gary.

  “Old? Fool? Y’know, you’re not too big to put over my knee, young lady,” he smirks back, “well, at least not five days ago you wasn’t.”

  She giggles and sticks her tongue out at him.

  Michael claps his hands together. “Okay people, it would seem that we have a plan, of sorts. Colonel, please get your team together, make your preparations, and then get everyone as well fed and rested as possible.”

  He nods and gathers his team, ushering them out of the door.

  The Fisher kids set off to join him and his men and Charlotte stops them, grabbing hold of Abigail. “Oh, no, no, no. You stay with me young lady. You ain’t leaving my sight tonight.”

  The child giggles and squirms within her arms.

  Michael issues commands to his team. “Hellwatch, with me. Let us discuss our strategy for the coming fight.” He glances at Judas. “That means you as well, Iscariot,” he smirks at him, “I’m still in charge though, remember!”

  Judas grins back and salutes. “Yes, sir.” He looks at Charlotte. “I’ll be back soon. You do this.” He motions to Abigail. “I’ll give you the CliffsNotes version of the plan.”

  She smiles and nods at him.

  Abigail Fisher gives him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

  Thirty-Seven

  “Knock knock,” he says smiling as he raps his knuckles against the wooden doorframe.

  Charlotte looks up at Judas from her position at the edge of Abigail’s’ bed, the child opposite her with a cloth doll in hand.

  Between them more dolls are strewn, evidence of the play session they had been engaged in prior to his interruption.

  She smiles. “You know, saying knock knock while actually knocking defeats the object of doing the knock.”

  He laughs and walks into the room. “Well, yeah, I guess you’re right. You guys having fun?” He acknowledges the presence of Isaac and Sarah with a raise of a hand, and they both smile at him. He points to the toys as he kneels down at the side of the bed. “What’s this, a tea party?”

  “No!” Abigail says, very matter-of-fact, “We have been assigning chores.”

  “Chores,” Charlotte adds, raising her eyebrows, offering him a ‘how-did-you-not-know-that?’ look.

  “Oh, my bad,” he says, then smiles as he reaches out and ruffles the child’s hair.

  “Hey!” she says, screwing her face up, pouting. She is not impressed.

  Still laughing, he stands and turns toward Charlotte. “You got a minute?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she says, standing up. She reaches over and strokes the side of Abigail’s face. “Now, you make sure all of the tasks are assigned and everyone does as they are told.” She wags her finger.

  “I will,” she replies, beaming at her.

  Charlotte stands and nods to Isaac and Sarah who in turn respond with the same gesture, having been grateful to her for adding a little fun into Abigail’s day after all the horror she had witnessed. Straightening and adjusting her clothing, she follows Judas out of the door.

  He glances at her as she reaches his side. “She’s a little sweetheart that one.”

  “You have no idea. She just oozes beautiful. And that girl has a head on her shoulders, I can tell you that much.”

  “Yeah, how so?”

  “Just in the way she talks, how she knows what’s going on. Not to mention her total grasp on how important the Seal is. It’s a little unnerving how clued up she is to be honest.” She chuckles.

  “Hmm,” he says, looking thoughtful, “sounds like someone I once knew before she became too big for her britches.”

  They smile at each other and she nudges him with her shoulder.

  “So, what’s up?” she says.

  “Nothing. What, a father needs an excuse to spend time with his daughter now?”

  “You’re always rocking an angle,” she says, laughing at him.

  “Not this time, sweetie,” he says, chuckling back. “I just want a bit of daddy–daughter time before things go cray cray.”

  “Oh my God,” she says, grabbing him by the arm, “you must never say that again, like… ever.”

  He laughs. He loves winding her up, joking around with her, and the fact that their sense of humor are so intertwined. Of course he knows that he has had a big hand in that in the way he raised her, but he still enjoys the fact they laugh and get along the way they do. Following their encounter with Lucifer, where she descended him, he was apprehensive on how she would react, of how her mental health would cope. He had been worried that once the stark realization hit her of what her destiny entailed, of the sacrifices she would have to make, she would fold, curl up into a ball, and shy away from her responsibilities. But she was made of sterner stuff and he had come to understand that while traveling with Gary, devising a plan on how to save the world. She had been vocal with her ideas, demanding even, all of which had been solid, detailing how they would move from place to place, delivering her message of peace and hope, empowering the human race with the knowledge that they could rise up, could save themselves. She was to be the beacon. Her words. And at that point he had felt annoyed at himself for ever doubting her. It was in that moment that he knew he had to help her enjoy a normal life up to adulthood. To allow her to experience the world how it was, so she could better connect with those she was meant to save and, even more important, to do so as an adult. They would trust and respect her much quicker that way, rather than taking commands from a seven-year-old little girl. And he was glad he had, as spending those years with the most amazing person he had ever come to know was not his only reward, it had allowed him to prepare her for the inevitable fight, to tip the scales in her favor so that she need never fear the darkness again.

  “What?” she says, breaking him out of his trance. He has been staring at her for a few seconds and she
has started to become worried. “Are you, like, having a stroke or something, old man?”

  He offers a quick shake of his head coupled with a frown. “No, don’t be ridiculous.” His lips tighten together and he huffs through his nose. “It’s nothing, really.” He smiles at her. “You’re bloody incredible you are – you know that, right?”

  “Stop it, you old fool.” She jabs his right arm in a playful manner. “Anyway, what’s the plan? What has our mighty Hellwatch come up with?”

  “Uggh, bloody waste of time that was. An hour of sitting around discussing the layout that may or may not be the same when we get there and the overall inspirational conclusion was that we will just sort it when we get there. Friggin’ angels, waste of space.”

  She laughs. “You’re kidding right? That’s their master plan – to wing it?”

  “Yup. Ironic, don’t ya think?” he winks.

  She laughs again. “I think these guys need to go on some sort of organizational course.”

  He joins her in laughing. “You might be right there.” He stops walking and puts his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, let’s get out of here for bit, take in some night air.”

  “You think it’s safe?”

  “What demon in its right mind would take us two on?” He winks at her again and she smiles back.

  They make their way through the compound to an exit and step out into the cool night air. For once it doesn’t feel dank and rotten. It smells of change, of a freshness to the world.

  “Renewal is coming,” he says, looking up into the night sky, “and the world knows it. You’re gonna do great things Charlotte Hope, great things indeed.”

  She says nothing.

  “There,” he says, pointing at a large and derelict building, “looks safe enough to just about hold your chubby butt.”

  “Hey! Not cool, man. Not cool,” she says, jabbing him, this time not playfully.

  He laughs. “You wanna ride?”

  “Nah, I got this.”

  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then opens them to reveal a brilliant white glow within and then swirls her hands in front of her and they too glow, leaving mystical white trails as she moves them through the air. She takes another deep breath and thrusts her right hand forward, toward the rooftop.

  He smiles as a portal rips open upon it.

  Pulling her hand back with force, a second portal rips open in front of them.

  “Wow, you’re really getting the hang of this,” he says, smiling at her.

  “Yeah,” she says, admiring her hands, “recently everything just started to make sense. Somehow. Not sure how but it’s like a knowledge has awakened within me, as though I have always known how to do this. Can’t explain it. Doesn’t matter.” She smiles. “After you, gramps.”

  “Cheeky, little…”

  He tails off as he steps through the portal and disappears, reappearing on the rooftop. “…monkey.”

  She appears behind him and the portal closes. “Who needs wings when ya got portals?” She surveys the ruined area. “God, such a mess.”

  “You telling me or Him?” He glances upward.

  She laughs. “C’mon, you and I both know we don’t subscribe to all that ‘His name in vain’ bullshit. He doesn’t care, just like He doesn’t care if we swear or mess around, it’s all just crap made up by men to keep people in line.”

  “Men?” He raises his eyebrows, “Not very politically correct. Are you saying women didn’t have a hand in that as well?” He smiles.

  “You know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes at him.

  “Yeah, yeah I do.”

  “I miss this.” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

  “Miss what?”

  “This, just sat out in the night air with you. I miss my friends as well.”

  He moves to her side and puts his arm around her. “They weren’t real, sweetie.”

  She looks at him and smiles a little. “People are as real as you make them. It’s your experience with them and how they imprint upon you that determines the chemical reaction we understand as feelings. They made a difference to me. They were real enough.”

  He looks at her for a moment as she returns her gaze to the world. “You are gonna make a great savior, you know that?”

  “Uggh, I hate that word. Savior. It’s just too damn Monty Python.” She laughs and looks at him. “You did a great job you know, bringing me up. If I am to be that to the world, then it is because of you.” She turns and places her hands on his shoulders. “You’re the greatest man I have and ever will know, dad, and I don’t care who my real father is. You’re my dad, and you’ll always be my hero.”

  He pulls her close and embraces her, squeezing her tight. “You’re the best daughter a father could ever wish for, regardless whether you are this world’s redeemer and protector or not. Love you, baby-girl.”

  “I love you too, dad.”

  They remain that way for a short time, enjoying the moment, the unbreakable bond that the closeness of family brings.

  He eases her away from him. “Listen, the reason I want to talk is regarding the mission.”

  She smiles and moves away from him, then sits on the raised edge of the roof and pats the space next to her.

  He moves over and sits down beside her.

  “Always rocking an angle,” she says, grinning at him.

  “Look, I’m being serious. Gabe seems very wary of this Barachiel character. I get the impression that this man is the Chuck Norris of angels. And if Gabe is worried, then so am I.”

  She turns her body toward him, her movement rapid. “You’re not gonna tell me I can’t go, are you? Because don’t even try that bull—”

  He raises a hand. “I’m not gonna say that, no.”

  “Well good, ’cos I’m going, all right?”

  “I know better than to try to stop you doing what you are meant to do. I just want you to be careful and not to take any wild risks. Use this encounter to learn, and remember your training. I have no idea what abilities he possesses but one thing I do know, he is not gonna help us willingly, and he is not gonna go down without a fight. So stay frosty, watch your six, and no damn risks.”

  “You said that already,” she mocks.

  He gives her a stern look.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. No risks and no bullshit, I get it. But before we go in guns blazing against this guy, promise me you will let me talk to him, see if I can’t get some sense out of him and prevent any bloodshed – can you promise me that at least?”

  He looks at her for a moment and then smiles. “You betchya, sweetie. You betchya.” He puts his arm around her and they stare out over the ruins once again, soaking in the night air, enjoying every moment of being together. After a few seconds she breaks the silence.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure. You can ask me anything, you know that.”

  “Okay.” She turns toward him once more. “Are you sure you have that thing, that weapon, under control?”

  He sighs, taking a moment to think about his answer.

  She places a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I don’t mind saying, it worries me. And I know it worries Gary, too. You have gone from powerful to freakin’ godlike in a matter of days and you and I both know gaining that sort of power too quickly, without earning it, can be dangerous.”

  He chuckles. “Believe me, baby-girl, I earned it. I earned it all right. Took me a few hundred years to do it too. It wasn’t just a few days.” He cocks his head to one side and raises his eyebrows.

  “Time dilation?” she says, raising her own.

  “Time dilation,” he confirms, looking back out over the ruined city.

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Nahh,” he says, shaking his head. “Maybe another time, yeah?”

  She looks at him for a few seconds and then back ahead. “Look, dad, you told me to be careful, now I need to return the sentiment. Azazel, Ikazuchi – whatever you want to call
it – it worries me.”

  “You said that,” he says, glancing down and smirking at her.

  Now it’s her turn to give a stern look. “I’m being serious. Look at your wings, for God’s sake.”

  He glances to his shoulder, even though his wings are stowed.

  “They are turning black. Black, dad – what the hell does that mean? Why are they doing that?”

  “I dunno,” he says, with a sigh, lowering his head. “Maybe it’s a side effect of the symbiosis, maybe it’s just something that happens when one takes ownership of a weapon of such power. But seriously, don’t worry – I’ve got this under control.”

  She stares at him for a few moments, her eyes darting back and forth, searching his face. “I hope so, dad, I really do. Because to me your wing problem suggests that you are taking on qualities of the damn thing that you wield, and that can only mean one thing. Demonic possession. So you better have it under control, because losing you is something I am not prepared to accept, even at the expense of not saving the world.”

  He turns to her. “Hey. Don’t say that. My life is worth nothing compared to the survival of this world and you are the only one who can save it, so accept the fact that you must do so, no matter what the consequences.” She tries to intervene and he cuts her short. “No matter what. Promise me.”

  “What?” she says, frowning.

  “Promise me you will do all you can to save the world, even if it is at my cost.”

  “No!”

  He looks at her in surprise, expecting her to agree, argue a little, maybe a few tears, but agree nonetheless. Her defiance shocks him. “What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean no. I will not promise that, so you can just cut that shit out.”

  “Hey, listen—”

  She holds up a hand. “Face,” she says, not even looking at him.

  He stares at her for a moment, then bursts into laughter and she joins him, her attention still on the ruined world in front of her. He nudges her. “You can be such a dick at times, you know that?”