Alan Price and the Horsemen of the Apocalypse

by Jonathan Yanez

  Still, if she was ever going to have a chance at finding out what happened to Michael, Tracy had to be trained to aid the Light in the War of the Horsemen. The Shaman had assured her that only with a victory for the side of the Light, could Michael ever be found again.

  “All right,” Tracy whispered. “I’ll try. I’m just not good at anything. I—”

  “That’s enough of that talk.” Ardat snapped back to her usual stoic state. “If you keep telling yourself you are no good and weak then that is what you will be. Now try again.”

  Ardat watched as Tracy bit back another complaint. Eyes slanted, Tracy concentrated. “Good,” Ardat said, “clear your mind from anything around you. Look into yourself and know what you are. Know what you are capable of becoming.”

  “I—I don’t know—”

  “Yes you do. You’ve known all along somewhere deep down that you are different. Accept that and move on. Free that force inside.”

  Tracy’s eyes opened. At the same time, two electric emerald-green wings burst from her back. Tracy tried looking behind her, fear on her face as much as awe.

  “Easy,” Ardat warned, “you’re in control. They won’t hurt you. You can order them where to go and what to do with a thought. Just like you’d move your arms or legs, they are part of you now.”

  The fear on Tracy’s face subsided ever so slightly as her wings beat from side to side in a slow gentle rhythm. “I, I have wings,” she said.

  “You do and there is much more than that,” Ardat agreed. “I promised you a break. You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.”

  Tracy tore her eyes from her wings and followed Ardat across the beach. “Why? What’s tomorrow?”

  Ardat didn’t look back. She headed for the bridge that connected the small island where the Lighthouse of Alexandria stood to the mainland. “Tomorrow you’ll learn how to fight and how to fly.”

  Ardat heard Tracy suck in her breath as the two women reached the bridge. “How, how do I turn this off?”

  Ardat looked behind her this time. Tracy was walking like she had been drinking. Trying to look behind her at her wings and concentrate where she was going was proving quite a challenge for the exhausted girl. “How would you put your hand in your pocket or flex a muscle? They are part of you now. Your wings and the force field around you will obey your commands. You only have to concentrate.”

  Tracy bit her lower lip. Within seconds, both her wings had receded into her back and the shimmering green orb of energy surrounding her was gone. Tracy looked at Ardat with wonder. “Thank you.”

  Ardat shrugged. “Let’s get you something to eat, then rest—”

  “No, I mean it,” Tracy said, running to catch up with Ardat. “Nobody has ever taken the time like that. No one has ever believed in me like you did.”

  Ardat wasn’t sure what to say as the wide-eyed girl heaped praises on her. “Yes, well, you have a long way to go. Now stop looking at me like that.”

  ---

  Alan woke to a throbbing headache and a body that felt like he was run over by a herd of minotaurs. Every inch of his being, inside and out, felt some kind of pain. He was sitting inside a small tent. The flaps were closed, hiding any kind of light. His arms were secured behind him around a single wooden pole that acted as the main support for the fabric structure.

  Alan grimaced as he tested his bonds. He could feel the rope around his wrists dig into his flesh as he struggled to be loose from his bonds. To Alan’s surprise, no amount of strength would tear him free of the rope. What should have been as easy as tearing a blade of grass in his grip was now impossible.

  Like a hammer falling, Alan realized his strength was gone. Calling on his supernatural ability was useless. No wings came from his back, no energy surged from his being. His well was dry.

  “It’s funny how fast things can change, isn’t it?”

  Alan flinched at the voice coming from somewhere behind him. He didn’t realize there was someone else in the tent. He tried to turn his head to see the speaker, but his bonds wouldn’t budge even the slightest bit. Already, Alan could feel the sensation from his fingers being lost to a feeling of pins and needles.

  “Your powers belong to me now, Horseman,” Sodom said, walking from his position to Alan and stopping in front of him. “Kassidy’s and yours are mine to command. Not too bad for a day’s work, the Horsemen of Famine and War at my disposal.”

  “Why don’t you free me from this post, and we’ll see how much of my power you actually have,” Alan said.

  Sodom laughed, a booming, mirthless sound that echoed through the tent. The large demon bent down to Alan’s level. Despite the black cloak he wore, Alan could see the muscles bend and flex under the fabric. “Courageous words for someone who now possess all the strength of a human. Do you understand my supernatural gift, Alan?”

  Alan opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get a single word out, Sodom struck him across the jaw. Alan’s already aching skull intensified with pain. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

  Sodom went on as if nothing had happened. “I take and store the talents of others, both demon and angel. Even now, I have Kassidy’s and your own energy coursing through my body, waiting for an outlet. When your kind finally makes their move, when the Four Horsemen battle, something will happen that has never happened in history. A fifth contender will enter the fight. Once I get my hands on the other two Horsemen and absorb their power, I will be unstoppable. I will be one in four. I alone will herald the Apocalypse, bringing an end to both the supernatural and human planes.”

  Alan couldn’t believe his ears. Sodom was mad. His mind reeled with the implications of the words spoken.

  “Not so eager to reply now, are you, Alan?” Sodom laughed again.

  “This won’t work,” Alan said.

  “Oh, and why not?”

  “We’ll stop you.”

  “Who? You? The decimated ranks of the Angelic Army? That old Archangel, Raphael? Bah! He should have remained with the identity that fit him the best. Poseidon was a force to be reckoned with during the Greek era. Now he’s an old man. No, Alan Price, you are very much alone.”

  Something took hold of Alan then, something that refused to be beaten and dragged through the mud like he had his entire adolescent life. Bullies were everywhere and Sodom was no different. “I’m going to kill you before this is all over,” Alan said. “I will find a way to stop you. You’re not going to hurt anyone else.”

  Rage at Alan’s courage shone bright in Sodom’s eyes. Alan knew more than anything, bullies hated when people refused to be intimidated.

  “Well, we’ll see about that,” Sodom said, grabbing Alan under his armpits and jerking him to his feet. The rope bonds holding Alan in place snapped, putting so much pressure on his wrists Alan thought for sure they would break.

  Before Alan could think to make a run for the tent entrance or strike his attacker, Sodom was already raining down blows. Fists the size of footballs struck Alan in the ribs, stomach, jaw, and temple. As Alan struggled to shield himself against the attack, Sodom screamed, “You will bow to me or you will die. I don’t need you anymore. I don’t need anybody!”

  Spittle sprayed from Sodom’s mouth and painted the ground along with Alan’s blood. Multiple cuts opened up around his face as Alan fell to the ground, unable to fend off the attacking demon.

  This is it, Alan thought. This is how I die.

  Light flared into the dark tent as someone drew back the flap. The blows stopped. Sodom looked up to see who was interrupting the execution. Alan squinted past the blood to see what was happening.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you,” Rolf said at the entrance to the tent, “but you left instructions to get you as soon as the other one was found and captured.”

  For a moment, Alan thought Sodom would strike Rolf for interfering. Instead, and even more disturbing, Sodom’s wrath subsided in a second and he smiled. “Well,” he said, wiping his bloody knuckles on his robe, �
�it seems like the third Horseman has been found. What was it you were just saying, Alan?”

  Alan struggled to a kneeling position, his mouth trying to form the words but only blood spraying out.

  “I’ve already won,” Sodom said, leaving the tent. “The Horseman of Death waits for me to take his power.”

  Chapter 4

  “Why me? I don’t want this.”

  “Raphael said you’d say that,” Esther said with nod. “But the facts are, you’ve been leading as long as I have and my skills are better used now training Kassidy. I only wish I had more men to leave you.”

  Seraphim stood with her back straight and arms crossed. Not only did she have no desire to lead, if she was completely honest with herself, she was afraid it would all happen again.”

  “Angelica will assist you with anything you need. Even though she’s a Nephilim, she’s proven herself time and time again.”

  Seraphim shook her head. She had no problem with Angelica. As a Nephilim, a human chosen by the angels and given powers, she was as bold as they came. Seraphim’s issue was with leading once again. The last time she was in charge of a unit of soldiers, they all met their doom. Yes, it was Gabriel who had caused it all; still, she held herself responsible for letting it happen.

  “Could you two maybe keep it down?” Danielle asked from her seated position next to Kassidy.

  Seraphim and Esther both shot stern looks at Danielle, who scowled. “Jeeze, take it easy. I’m not the enemy.”

  Danielle turned back to her work. Granted with the gift of healing, Danielle placed both hands on Kassidy’s right arm and closed her eyes.

  “Danielle is right,” Esther said. “Kassidy doesn’t have to hear this.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Kassidy mumbled from her lying position. “I want to hear what’s going on. Thanks to Danielle, I’m feeling better already. As soon as I can get on my feet, I want to continue training. The faster we can get Alan, the better. I owe him my life.”

  Seraphim gave the girl an approving nod.

  “I know you’ll be back on your feet soon,” Esther said. “Rest and do what Danielle tells you. I’ll be right back.”

  Esther ushered Seraphim out of the room and gently closed the door behind her. “Kassidy will be fine, but even she is still grasping the position she’ll be in when the Battle of the Horsemen begins. I’ll tell her about her steed, but maybe you should be the one who actually gets it and brings it to her. If memory serves correctly, gryphons aren’t the most pleasant creatures when they first awake.”

  “So you want me to lead the Angelic Army in the final battle and wake the gryphon from his sleep,” Seraphim said. “It must be my lucky day.”

  “I only ask because I know you are capable.”

  “And it will keep my mind from wandering to events recently passed?” Seraphim guessed. She wasn’t naive. Seraphim knew the best way to stay sane was to stay busy. It was obvious Esther and Raphael were worried for her lapsing into a grief that could prove fatal.

  “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to,” Esther said. “If you don’t want to wake Kassidy’s steed or lead—”

  “I’ll get the gryphon,” Seraphim said. “Let me think on leading the army.”

  Esther smiled. “Fair enough.”

  Seraphim took the opportunity to head down one of the Temple’s long halls, but she stopped as soon as she started. “I forgot how big this place is. Where is the gryphon exactly?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never awoken any of the beasts for battle. I’d check with Gideon if I were you.”

  ---

  Ardat stood guard at the doors of the Lighthouse of Alexandria, keeping watch as Tracy slept. The girl was curled up in a ball by the fire that had now grown to a pile of embers. Tracy had complained herself to sleep, muttering about thread counts and goose-feathered pillows.

  Despite the spoiled life Tracy had grown accustomed to, Ardat could see why she was chosen to be a Horseman of the Apocalypse. Tracy was like a bear that had never been called out of its cave. She had potential to be so much, but her coddled lifestyle never required her to dig deep and search for the strength she possessed.

  Ardat turned back to stare into the night. It’s good you’ve saved your strength, Horsewoman, Ardat thought. You’re going to need all you have to survive the coming days.

  Ardat was interrupted from her thoughts by a small black shadow crossing the bridge to the lighthouse. Ardat narrowed her eyes, expecting an attack. As the time for the Four Horsemen’s battle grew closer, there would be scavengers seeking to manipulate the conflict to their own gain.

  Her worry would be unfounded, as the next few seconds revealed the familiar bent form of the Shaman. The man shambled across the stone bridge, a gnarled wooden walking stick keeping perfect pace with his slow gait.

  “How goes the training?” he asked as he reached Ardat and looked from her to Tracy’s sleeping form.

  “She’s spoiled, not used to work, and she complains more than anyone I have ever met.”

  The Shaman chuckled and examined Ardat with twinkling eyes that held the wisdom of a life filled with experience. “She’s perfect for you. Will she be ready?”

  “She will be ready because she has to. How many days do we have?”

  “Five,” the Shaman muttered, “maybe a day more, maybe a day less.”

  “And then we will search for Michael?”

  “Yes, there may be another way; however, the powers of Light proving victorious will guarantee Michael’s safe return. If we succeed, then there is no doubt we will find him again.”

  Ardat nodded slowly as memories of the only man she had ever loved drifted through her mind. “And you know where he is?”

  “So much of what comes after the Horsemen’s battle for the Apocalypse is still hazy. It’s like a wisp of smoke that rises to take form one second, then a moment later evaporates into memory.”

  “Tell me what you see, Shaman.”

  The Shaman looked so deep into Ardat’s eyes she thought he would bore holes into her soul. “I see Michael wandering. He’s lost. No memories of his past, no supernatural powers, just a man, scared and alone.”

  Ardat fought back the urge to look away. “But where? Where is he?”

  “He’s on earth. He’s wandering among the humans on their plane. If you ever want to see him again, the Light must win and we will have to find a way to unite the supernatural and human planes once more.”

  Tears filled Ardat’s eyes but she refused to let them fall. This was not a time for weakness. Michael was alone and he needed her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer to the question begging to be asked. She inquired anyway. “Is there a way to bring the planes back into alignment?”

  The Shaman repeated her own words back to her. “We will find a way, because we have to.”

  Chapter 5

  After Sodom’s beating and his hurried retreat, Alan was taken from the tent and thrown into a deep pit somewhere in the middle of the enemy camp. Still bloody and bruised, he was left to wonder if Sodom had really found Kyle, the Horseman of Death.

  It could all have been a ruse to toy with his mind or steal his hope away. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe Sodom was tracking down the Horsemen one by one and leaching their power.

  Alan was lying in his pit, staring up into the large night sky. Physical pain was something he was used to. From an early age he was bullied and beaten at school. What bothered him now was the idea he would fail.

  Alan was rescued from the doubt that haunted his waking dreams by the sound of shuffling feet and clanking chains. A second later, something was thrown into his pit with a bark of laughter from Rolf’s voice. “There you are, Alan. I expected more from you, but since you do not have it in you to succeed, we brought you a companion who is just as weak.”

  There were other shouts of mirth from demons Alan did not recognize. Their cackling voices faded into oblivion as they departed. Alan grunted as he pushed him
self to a standing position. The dark shape of a man was lying on the floor of the pit only a few yards from him.

  Alan’s heart seized in his chest as his worst fears became reality. Kyle was a bloody mess. From the light of the moon and stars, Alan could only a get a superficial glance at his injuries, but he knew they were grave. Multiple cuts and bruises wound their way across Kyle’s face in a pattern of pain.

  “Kyle,” Alan said as he stumbled forward and extended a hand. No matter how much the two had been through, Alan wouldn’t abandon Kyle now. As the Horseman of Death, Kyle’s powers had been awoken by Gabriel and used during the fight when Michael had been lost.

  Kyle slapped Alan’s offered hand away and crawled to a sitting position with his back against the pit wall. “I don’t want your help. Leave me alone.”

  Alan stood in front of Kyle, searching for words he couldn’t find. “Is anything broken? Sodom leached your power and beat you pretty bad, didn’t he? Are—are you okay?”

  The question seemed stupid even as it echoed in his own ears. Of course they weren’t okay.

  Kyle didn’t miss the irony. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters now. We’re both dead anyway.”

  “We’re not dead yet,” Alan said with a determination he didn’t feel.

  “Not yet,” Kyle agreed, “but soon.”

  “You can’t think like that.”

  “Why not? Because your power is going to come back and save us all? The perfect Alan Price who everyone loves is going to rescue us? You don’t have it in you. Your abilities are gone just like mine. It’s over. We don’t have a chance and even if we did, you’re not capable of doing what needs to be done.”

  “What are you talking about?” Alan asked.

  Kyle spit blood with a grimace as he readjusted himself. “They didn’t tell you?”

  Alan shook his head.

  “We’re going to be killed tomorrow. We’re going to be put in some kind of gladiator games for Sodom’s amusement then slaughtered. With no powers, we’re dead.”