by Roy Bright
“Of course, I learnt from the best,” she says and they both erupt with laughter.
He puts his arm around her and they remain that way for a short time until the chuckling tails off.
“Hey, you know what we should do?” he says, removing his arm and facing her.
“What?”
“Something we haven’t done in a long time.”
“What?” she says, her tone indicating further intrigue.
“Skyride.”
“Lol,” she says, scrunching the side of her mouth up.
“What?” he replies, his eyebrows raised. “You used to love skyride.”
“Dad, I think I’m a little too old and too big to be slung under you while you fly around performing acrobatics.” She cuddles into him. “Let’s just stay here and enjoy the moment.”
He pouts and looks dejected. “I bloody loved skyride.”
Ikazuchi’s voice from his back causes them both to look at the sword.
“This has been wonderful. Thank you both for allowing me to share this precious moment with you, even if she does seem to hate me.”
“Uggh,” Judas says, rolling his eyes. “I’d forgotten I’d brought this dickhead.”
She bursts into laughter all over again.
Thirty-Eight
“We stick together; we never leave each other’s side.”
Isaac’s hands are on each of his sisters’ shoulders as he stares into their eyes. He performs his big-brother duties well, he always has, but today he must rise above, be more to them than he ever has. Sure, the soldiers across the way in the other room have their best interests at heart and they will do everything they can to protect them, but that means little to him as the responsibility for his siblings lies with him and him alone. His father told him as much, before the world changed. “Look after your sisters with every fiber of your being, Isaac. Never let them out of your sight, you are chosen by The Lord, of this your Ma and I are certain.” Following the angel’s revelations regarding the relic, it had hit him; his mother and father had known all along what it was that they had passed to Abigail, had known the very nature of it. How they had come to be in the possession of such an artifact was now a story that would never be told, but nonetheless they had it and had passed it to them and it had filled him with joy to not only know they had a place of extreme importance within the machinations of how to fix the world, but that God was there and he was on their side.
“The soldiers will look after us; they are good grown-ups,” Abigail says, smiling at her brother.
“They are, little sister, of that I am sure, but they are not afforded the same protection from the Dark Ones that we are. I am sure they will do all they can to protect us, but in the end we must ensure that we never let our guard down, never rely too much on them, and never, ever split up.”
“And what if we are forced to leave them?” Sarah asks.
“Then we do what we did before we were blessed with their protection – we keep our heads down and keep moving, unseen in the shadows.”
“But the detective said there are worst things out there than demons, things that can see us.” She feels the need to challenge his reasoning, more so after the events of the day. Not to pick holes in his plans but more to play devil’s advocate, if you could pardon the expression, to ensure that they have every base covered, that they know what they must do should the worst arises. It is rare for her to question her brother and she notices a small amount of frustration in his eyes from her doing so.
“It’s not that I don’t think you know what you’re doing, Isaac – I know that you do. I just want to be sure we know what it is we are letting ourselves in for, that even going with them in the first place is the right thing to do. I would prefer to not draw ourselves into a false sense of security for it to be snatched away from us without warning.” She offers a nod toward their younger sister, indicating that it is her she is most concerned for, knowing that young children form emotional attachments much faster than adults and she wants to spare her any more distress. It must be hard enough for her knowing that a lot of the small children she had become friends with lost their lives to the Dark Ones today, not to mention having to leave what they believed to be a safe zone, forced to move out into the unforgiving world once again.
Isaac smiles at her, and then at Abigail. “I have no doubts that going with these fine fellows is the right things to do and that ultimately we will be safer with them than without. I just want to make sure we are all on the same page. Foolish of me, really, as we always are.” He laughs a little. “I love you guys and we will always be strong together.” He pulls them close to him and they embrace. “Everything is going to be all right. I promise. Besides, we managed okay before we met up with the soldiers, didn’t we?”
Sarah smiles, albeit she is nervous and fidgety. “Yeah. I’m just hoping that wasn’t blind luck, and that we have run out of it.”
“No, it wasn’t luck and we haven’t run out. We are the Fishers, and we will be just fine.” He reaches out and hugs them both, tight.
“I know, big brother,” Abigail says, gripping onto him. “The Lord is with us and we will be just fine.”
He pulls himself away from them both. “Abigail Fisher, you’re a mighty strong oak for one so small.”
She smiles then reaches to her chest and grips the Seal between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing its surface. “Where do you think ma and pa got it from?”
He reaches out to it, replacing her fingers with his. “I have no idea. But it seems our family has been marked for something great and good. And with this level of protection on our backs, with the Dark Ones blind to us, well… we are going to be just fine.”
They stare at the Seal and then one another for a few seconds, smiling.
Isaac takes a deep breath. “It is time we retired for the night. Tomorrow will be an exciting, strange, and somewhat scary day but we will greet it with the strength of the Fisher family and honor our parents’ memories.” He reaches out to his sisters, holding out his hands for them to take hold.
They respond in kind, with Sarah and Abigail taking hold of each other’s.
“Let us pray,” Isaac says, as they all bow their heads. “Lord, please watch over us in the days to come. Your omnipotence guides us, your presence fuels us, and your blessings humble us. Watch over the men and women here to protect us all. Guide them in your ways and see that they stay on the path, never to stray. Give guidance and strength to your angelic servants and your daughter, as they enter the darkness in the search of truth, and an end to the horrors of our times. Shine upon our ma and pa as they watch over us from under the warmth of your wings and thank you for entrusting us with this task of vital importance, that we may feel blessed for being your humble servants. In the strong and loving name of Jesus, our savior, Amen.”
Sarah and Abigail repeat the word and all three tighten their grips on each other’s hands and give them a gentle shake.
Sarah smiles at her sister. “Right. Bedtime, missy madam.”
She groans.
“Aww, no. Come on now,” Sarah says, as she pulls back the bed sheets. “As Isaac said, it’s a big day tomorrow. Let’s have you.”
Abigail draws up her legs and then tucks them under the covers. She stares at her siblings for a moment. “She’s amazing, isn’t she? Beautiful, strong, and clever.”
They smile at her.
“She sure is,” Sarah says, leaning over to kiss Abigail’s forehead.
She grabs her teddy and turns over on her side. “She’s gonna fix the world. I just know it. She’s amazing.”
She closes her eyes.
Thirty-Nine
Colonel Taylor looks up from checking one of the various weapons that he has laid out in front of him as a couple of men enter the room and he waves them over.
Staff Sergeant Andy Collins and Warrant Officer Ted Carter acknowledge and approach him.
“So what’s the story, fellas? Where are we at with
aerial transport?”
Andy grabs one of the sandwiches laid out on the table that another member of the Colonel’s team made for him earlier.
“Please do help yourself Sergeant,” he says, smirking at him.
Andy smiles back through a mouthful of food. “Well, sir, it’s like this. You have a choice. Do you want a combat model or transportation?”
Nathan’s eyes open wide. “You got aircraft running?”
“Well, no, not exactly. Not just yet at least. But we need to make a decision as to what resources we want to invest in.”
Ted steps in. “What he’s trying to say, while stuffing his fat face,” he decides to ignore the finger he has received from Andy, “is that we will be able to give you aerial support but we only have two aircraft available to us following the attack. However, both need parts and the things each need are contained in one or the other. Basically, we can’t get both birds working at the same time. Not that it matters, given I’m the only pilot you have, which continues to be pathetically ironic since we are holed up on an airbase. And to further compound matters it’s either a Hawk or an Indian.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Nathan says, dropping the automatic rifle he is holding onto the bench with a loud clank.
“Yeah, well, exactly.” Ted says, while reaching over and grabbing a sandwich for himself. An action that receives no reaction, so he decides to grab a couple more while ‘being-cheeky’ seems to be tolerated, for now at least.
“Nothing bigger?” Nathan asks.
“Nope!”
Gary walks over, followed by Michael. “What is it?” he asks.
“Ahh, the usual, y’know – more problems than fucking solutions,” Nathan says, rolling his eyes.
Gary notices how tired he looks. His eyes black-ringed, his features haggard, the weight of responsibility for those under his charge and those he has lost having taken its toll on him. He decides that he will chat with him about it all when they get on the road to see if he can’t halve the man’s troubles, since he himself is no stranger to dealing with positions of responsibility and the grief of feeling to blame for one’s actions. He sits on the side of a desk. “So tell us what’s the problem. Maybe we can all pitch in and help.”
Nathan turns back around and eyes him for a moment. “Okay, well it’s like this. We can only have one aircraft to assist us. One is a Blackhawk transporter and the other an Apache gunship. The Blackhawk isn’t big enough to fit everyone in and utilizing the Apache means that, for it to be effective, it would need to scout ahead, as slowly tailing us is not an option. It would announce our presence to the entire fucking area.”
“Not only that,” Ted interjects, “I’m not a combat aircraft pilot, my background is in commercial flight. The hawk is more my thing. I can’t guarantee that I would be effective flying a combat craft.”
“Commercial? Large commercial?” Gary asks, his interest piqued.
“Well, my day job was to ferry people back and forth up to the rigs in Green Bay. Flew the AW139s for that so yeah, fairly large.”
“Think you could handle a Chinook?”
Ted smiles a little then starts to shake his head. “Aww, man – I dunno. Those things are hella-big and heavy. You need advanced training in those types of aircraft.”
“I hear ya Ted, I really do,” Gary says, nodding, “but do you think you could handle it? As it stands we need something – anything – to help these people out and I need someone to step up.”
Ted muses for a few moments, looking around at the faces focused on him, eager for his answer. He takes a deep breath.
Nathan interrupts before he has a chance to respond. “Where’s this leading? I think we should know before we start to discuss this.”
“Well,” Gary says, moving over to the other side of the room to grab a map lying on one of the benches, “when we were moving around, scavenging here and there, Lewis and I,” he looks up at the blank faces and realizes they don’t know to whom he refers, “Lewis was a good guy accompanying us on the road. He died in the ambush back in Detroit.”
Nathan lowers his head, purses his lips, and closes his eyes. He opens them and looks at Gary, apologizing without saying anything.
Gary offers a small nod. He doesn’t blame Nathan and his team. It was just one of those things, even if many did lose their lives. He smiles out of the corner of his mouth and unfolds the map, pushing it down onto the table in front of him as the other men gather around. “We had a base of operations over in Windsor, here, near Windsor Airport. And one day we had a nose around and I remembered seeing an Army Chinook sitting on one of the runways. Seemed intact and in good condition. As far as I remember, the Chinook can carry in excess of 50 people, right?” He looks at Nathan who nods to confirm. “By my reckoning there are no more than 40 of us left. Seems like the perfect option. A fully fueled Chinook would grant us some good distance running.”
Ted rubs his chin while drawing breath over his teeth. “I dunno. It’s a lot of ifs, buts, and maybes. We have no idea if the aircraft is still operational, has power enough to initiate rotor burn, which I sincerely doubt it will, or if it’s even fueled.”
“I hear ya, er…” Gary shakes his head. He doesn’t know his name and it makes him feel a bit awkward.
“Ted. The name’s Ted.” He holds out his hand and Gary shakes it.
“Well, Ted, I hear what you’re saying, I really do, but we need options and some measure of a plan no matter what. The only thing we are left with is wandering across the desert, so we might as well wander to a specific place, with a notion of a plan even if the chances of success are slim. We need to be on our way, keep moving, and I would rather bypass ground travel as much as humanly possible with such a large group in tow. As I said, there are things out there just as bad as demons. At worst, Windsor Airport is a pretty decent place to hole up for a day or so while we figure a new plan should this one not pan out.” He sighs and raises his eyebrows. “It’s a pretty thin plan, I know.”
“Thin?” Andy says, “It’s fucking anorexic.”
Gary stands upright, having been leaning over the desk. The man’s response angers him and he isn’t in the mood for games. “You got any better ideas, pal?”
Andy stares at him for a moment. “Well, yeah,” he points at Michael, “can’t they just magic us all away somewhere? Somewhere safe?”
Everyone turns to look at Michael, their faces emblazoned with a ‘that’s actually not a bad idea’ optimism.
Michael smiles. “As much as we would love to portal you all over the place it would be a very bad idea.”
“Why?” Andy asks, his arms flapping by his side.
“Because my dear friend, we leave imprints each time we rip a portal open. It leaves one at its origin and destination, and damn big ones at that. We might as well draw a map and hand it to Malphas himself to show him where you are going. Besides, we have a portal to make of our own to Barachiel’s castle and that will also leave a nasty imprint behind, one that I hope Malphas and his cronies will focus on rather than your exodus.”
The room falls silent for a moment as they soak up the information.
“Fair enough, it was just a suggestion,” Andy says, breaking the silence.
Nathan claps his hands together. “Okay, so we have a plan. It is by no means perfect and it’s fraught with danger especially given we will have to go back through Detroit to get there, but a plan we have nonetheless.”
Andy raises his hand, somewhat sarcastic in his approach. “So where the fuck are we gonna go after that?”
“One plan at a time thank you Sergeant.” Colonel Taylor says, swift to shut him down to prevent an influx of questions and counter proposals. He has been doing his job for a very long time, and he can always tell when one of his men is getting ready to ‘lawyer-up’ and be a stick in the mud. Stamping on such behavior is always better than allowing it to grow and contaminate the psyche of others, and he is very good at getting his way from his men, evident in
how swift Sergeant Collins’ protestations cease. “Okay people,” he says, putting them back on track. “I want everyone to prep their gear and the vehicles we have at our disposal. Andy, Ted, get a team together from anyone you can find and strip as much useful gear out of those aircraft as you can fit into one transport. Anything you think we may need should the Chinook be belly up when we get there.”
“Sir!” they reply in unison and then head off to carry out their assignment.
He turns to Gary. “I want you with me at all times if you don’t mind Gary. I need someone with a good head on their shoulders helping me guide these folks.”
“You got it, Colonel. Sure thing.”
“Please, just call me Nathan. I think our military is just about done with formality for now.”
Gary smiles and nods. He looks at Michael. “Guess we’re set, sort of. You guys ready?”
Michael nods. “We all have tough tasks ahead of us Gary, but I am confident you will see yours through and put these people out of harm’s way.” He draws in a deep breath. “Well, we best be at it then. I need to gather my team.”
Gary acknowledges him as Conrad bursts into the room, pushing through a door with his back. He walks over to a table and plonks down two more trays of sandwiches, from which he grabs two. He looks up at the faces staring at him and, shrugging, says, “So, what I miss?”
Forty
Charlotte walks over to him. “Here, lemme do that,” she says, helping Gary fasten up his body armor. “There, that’s better.” She smiles at him.
He shifts in the armor and rolls his head around his neck. It’s a bit uncomfortable, not quite a perfect fit, and his face reflects that.
“Stop fidgeting,” she says, grabbing the sides of the armor and tugging it down.
“It’s bloody uncomfortable.”