The Belial Fall

by R. D. Brady

David’s hands flew over the console. Then his head jerked to the radar screen as a beeping began.

  Drake glared at the back of David’s head. “That sounds bad.”

  “Incoming missile,” David said as the whole plane jerked to the right. “Hold on.”

  Even over the roar of the plane she could hear the decoy flares being deployed and exploding behind them. The missile wasn’t fooled, though.

  “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it,” David mumbled. He jerked the stick to the left.

  Laney grabbed the straps of her harness as they practically turned on their side. Her eyes grew large as the missiles flew past ahead of them.

  She swallowed. “Are we—”

  “Not yet,” David barked, putting them into a steep dive just as Laney saw the missiles start to curve back toward them.

  Laney’s stomach felt like it hit the floor as her feet tried to rise from it.

  “I’m going to be sick,” Drake mumbled, looking more than a little green.

  The skin on Laney’s face felt like it was trying to reach the back of her head. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could handle before she blacked out. Then the plane leveled out, but Laney could still feel the g-force pull. They hadn’t slowed down, which meant they weren’t out of danger.

  “This is going to be close,” David said, although Laney was pretty sure it wasn’t her or Drake he was talking to. She managed to turn her head and saw a mountaintop ahead of her. They were aiming right for it.

  CHAPTER 67

  Lexington, Kentucky

  The reflection in the Holiday Express mirror looked ten years older than when Mary Jane had seen it just a few days ago. Her left eye was black, her cheeks sunken. A cut on her forehead had required four stitches. She didn’t remember that injury.

  I guess I got that when they Tased me.

  She gripped the edge of the sink, the words shocking her to her core. She had been Tased by federal officers then knocked out. They had knocked Joe unconscious, attacked Jake when he tried to defend them, and Molly . . . Tears flooded her eyes. She couldn’t think of Molly. She’d never be able to do what she needed to do if she thought of what they had done to Molly. She needed to stay strong. She could not help her any other way.

  Mary Jane ran a brush through her hair, but that was all she did to improve her appearance. She wore no makeup, and she had turned down Brett’s offer to get her new clothes. Her clothes were stained with Molly’s blood, even a little of Joe’s on her sleeve. She wanted the world to see what had been done to her family. She would not sugarcoat any of the harm.

  A soft knock sounded at the door. “Mary Jane?” Jake called softly.

  She took a breath. “Be right out.”

  She stared at her reflection for a few more moments, praying for strength she didn’t think she had.

  Please, God, help me. Give me the strength to do what needs to be done. She closed her eyes and, shaking her head, opened them. She straightened her shoulders. Okay.

  She unlocked the door and stepped out. Jake stepped toward her, but she held out a hand. “If you hug me, I will lose it.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Okay. Whatever you need.”

  “Have you heard from Henry?”

  “Everybody’s fine.”

  “Even Molly?”

  “She’s all right. Cain’s staying by her side.”

  She wanted nothing more than to rush back to her, throw her arms around her, and tell her everything was all right.

  But that was a lie. Nothing was all right. Her daughter had been tortured by the U.S. government, and Mary Jane hadn’t been able to do anything to stop it.

  But she could do this. And the sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could get back to Molly. “Let’s go.”

  The crowd of reporters shuffled and chatted on the other side of the doors. Mary Jane had never in her life spoken in public like this. The last time she spoke to a room full of people was junior year of high school, when she did a report for her history class on the founding fathers. Half the class had focused on the rainstorm out the window, completely ignoring her.

  She could not let this group ignore her. They needed to listen. They needed to help. Her hands shook, picturing Molly curled up and sobbing. Tears threatened to break again, but she willed them back.

  You can cry for a week straight once you get through this, she promised herself. But for now, the last thing you are allowed to do is cry, do you hear me?

  “You’ve got this,” Jake said, staring down at her.

  “I hope so.”

  He took her by the shoulders, and she looked up into his eyes. “You’ve got this,” he said. “Because you love those children of yours. And you will do anything in your power to protect them. We don’t have any special abilities, but this is something we can do. Take that love you feel for your kids and make them feel it. And make them feel your fear. You are the perfect person for this.”

  She took a shaky breath and nodded. “Let’s go.”

  He squeezed her arm gently as Mustafa opened the door. Mary Jane walked through the narrow aisle in the middle of the room, rows of chairs on either side. All talking stopped for a moment as she stepped in. Then everyone seemed to be talking at once. Questions were shouted at her from all the reporters. Mustafa and Jake walked on either side of her, keeping them back. She looked neither left nor right, just kept her gaze on the small stage at the front of the room.

  Brett stepped from the front of the room so she could see him. He would be next to her. He would step in if it became necessary and answer any questions. Flashbulbs popped and cameras whirled, but Mary Jane blocked it all, focusing on getting to the front of the room, one foot in front of the other.

  Before she knew it, she was climbing the three short steps to the stage. A podium was set up off to the right, and a large screen took up the back of the stage. Jake and Mustafa took position in front of the stage, scanning the crowd. Brett nodded at her, taking a seat to the back and side of the podium. The lights dimmed, and a spotlight shone on her, making her blink.

  But as soon as the light came on, a sense of calmness came over Mary Jane. The screen flickered to life, and a picture of Molly appeared. It had been taken after soccer practice one fall day. Her hair was wild, her cheeks rosy, her blue eyes shining. And her smile—it was impossible not to smile back at that smile. So Mary Jane smiled at her beautiful daughter. As she turned to face the audience, she saw more than a few people smiling at her daughter’s picture as well.

  Taking a breath, Mary Jane looked out into the audience and began to speak. “Thank you for coming here today. My name is Mary Jane McAdams, and this is my daughter Molly. Molly is smart, quiet, sweet, and a ferocious soccer player. She is thirteen and caught between the world of a teenager and she’s also a kid. She likes to have sleepovers with her friends but still has her collection of stuffed animals. And when there is a thunderstorm, she still crawls into my bed.” Mary Jane paused.

  “Molly is also a Nephilim. We only learned of her status last year. Her father was a Fallen. I never knew that. He never used his abilities. He never had to. He was a good man. He provided for us, loved us, and as far as we were concerned, he was exactly like us. But he wasn’t. He was taken from us in a car accident. Molly was in the car. A good friend believes that is when Molly’s abilities awakened.”

  The crowd was leaning forward, taking notes, engaged. Mary Jane plowed on. “I was terrified when I learned about Molly’s abilities. Her brothers were jealous. In their words, they wanted to be superheroes too.”

  A smattering of chuckles drifted through the hall.

  “But I was terrified. I worried about what it would mean for her, of the danger it could place her in. Because out of my children, Molly, she’s my quiet one, she is my thoughtful one. And I worried it would be more than she could bear. But as we parents often learn, our kids often know more than we do.”

  “When the Day of Reckoning came, Molly wanted to go out an
d help. I told her no. She was too young. She was not trained. But she argued that God gave her these gifts and He wanted her to use them.” Mary Jane smiled. “It stinks when your kids use your own logic against you.” Another smattering of chuckles.

  “Molly stayed with us as we watched the news reports and the horror began to unfold. We were all in my living room—myself, my children, my two brothers, and their families. All of us were glued to what was happening on the screen, the horror playing out. None of us could look away. None of us, except for Molly.

  “Unbeknownst to us, somewhere during those broadcasts, she snuck out. She went to go help people in our neighborhood by herself.” Mary Jane looked over her shoulder at Molly’s picture. “This beautiful, timid thirteen-year-old girl went to help when the rest of us couldn’t even look up from the TV. And she did help. She helped save dozens of people that day. She went into burning homes. She pulled impossibly large trees off people so others could drag them to safety. Again and again she used her abilities to save and protect those around her.”

  Tears sprang to Mary Jane’s eyes. “I could not have been more proud of her. She was a Godsend that day.”

  Her smile dimmed as she remembered what came next. “And yet, when school began again, people began to whisper, people began to write cruel things on her locker and online, calling her all types of horrible things. I asked her how she felt about all of it, and she told me she knew what she could do was scary to people who didn’t understand her abilities. And she understood that. She said it would take people some time, but they would understand she was still the same person and everything would go back to normal.

  “Who wouldn’t be proud of a daughter like that? She had no anger for those that scorned her. She understood their fear and forgave them the moment they did something. That is a completely different kind of strength. She is an amazing girl.

  “But then as time wore on and people didn’t change, I saw the pressure taking a toll on her. She was becoming more withdrawn, quieter. She was sad. So we moved to the Chandler Headquarters to give Molly a chance to be around kids like herself.

  “To give her a chance to be normal.”

  Mary Jane blinked, tears of pride and sorrow burning at the back of her eyes. She took one last look at her daughter’s smiling face and then turned her back, nodding at Brett. The light flickered as the image on the screen behind her changed. “This picture was taken three days ago at the Chandler Headquarters. We had just finished a delicious dinner and were in the middle of a brutal Scrabble marathon.

  “One day later, the U.S. government came to arrest my daughter. In the process, they broke the nose of my fourteen-year-old son, who was not resisting them.”

  The image shifted behind her, and she knew it was a close-up of the soldier slamming the butt of his rifle into Joe’s face. The audience gasped.

  “I tried to help my son. I leaned down to him.” The image shifted again behind her.

  “I was pulled away and then kicked in the back by a soldier.” Another image.

  “The soldier went to kick me again, but Molly, she wouldn’t let him. And they shot her.” Another image.

  Mary Jane told herself not to look, but she couldn’t stop herself. She glanced over her shoulder. On the large screen, she caught Molly as she fell, her scream practically audible. No one in the room made a sound.

  Mary Jane turned back, tears pressing against the back of her eyes. “My daughter was then taken into custody. We were not told where she was taken. She was not allowed access to a lawyer. My beautiful, sweet child went from a little girl to an enemy of the state. And her crime? Abilities she never asked for and had only used to help people.”

  Her breath hitched as she pictured Molly’s devastated face. Jake glanced over his shoulder at her. She took strength from his look and faced the crowd once again. “Molly was a prisoner of the CEI. The agency wanted to determine the weaknesses of the Fallen. And they had no compunction about experimenting on a thirteen-year-old child who still sleeps with a teddy bear.”

  The light flickered behind her, but Mary Jane just gripped the podium, her knuckles turned white as the crowd gasped before starting to mumble. But as image after image played, the crowd went silent, horror in the air.

  “My daughter was stabbed, shot, cut, and tortured, all in the name of the United States government. Over and over again, they tortured her. For hours.” Mary Jane took a breath. “But they weren’t done. The afternoon of the second day they had her, they pulled her out of her cell to begin the next phase of experimentation: chemical attacks. She was saved before they could commence those attacks.”

  Mary Jane reached a shaky hand for the glass of water on the shelf under the podium. She took a drink to quench her thirst and to give her a moment to shove those horrible images from her mind. “My daughter is in hiding, in more ways than one. My beautiful, sweet little girl is traumatized. She cannot be left alone. She has a power that as children we dreamed of. And yet she is just a terrified child. And it is our government that has done this to her. She did not ask for these abilities. But she felt a duty to use them to help others. In return for that selflessness, the United States government named her an enemy of the state and tortured her. They tortured a child.”

  Mary Jane took a breath. “I am not standing here today to tell you that all Fallen and Nephilim are good. We all know that is not true. But they are not all evil. Like all of us, there are good and there are bad. We cannot declare them all evil, any more than we could declare any other ethnic group entirely evil. Our government is wrong in this. This is not the America people have fought and died for.

  “The Fallen are not the only ones with extra abilities. Anyone who owns a gun has an unfair advantage in any confrontation. We do not remove their rights. In fact, we adamantly defend them. Men have a physical advantage over females in almost any confrontation. We do not remove their rights. This is a country that embraces freedom, that is a symbol of human dignity.” She waved her hand toward the screen. “Where is the dignity in these actions? And if we cannot protect our children, then what right have we to call ourselves the land of the good?

  “We need to protect ourselves, yes, but not at this cost. Torturing a child? Who among you can defend that? Who among you could look themselves in the mirror and be proud of a government that ordained this? This country is the greatest in the world. It is a beacon of freedom and democracy. What was done to my daughter is a dark stain on that history. And anyone who considers themselves a true American, a good person, cannot allow it to happen to anyone else.

  “I’m not a fighter. I’m not a public speaker. But how can I stay silent when a government feels entitled to torture children in the name of national security? How can you? When the history books are written about this time, which side will you be on? The side that history demonizes and struggles to understand how they could have allowed such cruelty? Or will you be on the side of the heroes? Will you be the person that future generations look back upon and point to as the type of person we all should strive to be?”

  She paused, her gaze scanning the room. “Who do you want to be: the hero or the villain?” She stepped back from the podium.

  No one said a word. No one even moved. Mary Jane wasn’t sure how to interpret that.

  Brett tapped her arm. “Nicely done,” he whispered before turning to the audience. “Are there any questions?”

  Everyone in the audience launched themselves to their feet, hands in the air, questions ringing out.

  CHAPTER 68

  Over the Eastern Portion of the United States

  The mountaintop grew larger in the windshield of the jet. Laney tensed. If they hit it at this speed, well, she didn’t think even her ability would allow her to heal from that.

  She looked over at Drake. He stared intently back. “Guess we’re going out with a bang.”

  She tried to smile in response, but she couldn’t quite manage it. They were almost at the giant rock face. It now took up
the entire windshield, no sky visible beyond it.

  “Hold on!” David yanked on the stick.

  If Laney thought the pull was bad during the dive, it was nothing compared to now. Her very brain felt like it was pushing against the back of her skull. If she could raise her hands, she would have placed them there to keep it from leaking out. At the same time, it felt like an anvil was pushing against her chest. Drawing a breath proved almost impossible.

  The plane jolted.

  “Yes!” David yelled, moving the stick so they were still going up but at a less painful angle.

  “It hit the mountaintop?” Laney asked after checking to make sure none of her teeth had been dislodged.

  “Yeah. The people of West Virginia will be less than thrilled but better than having us splashed all over their countryside. You two need to put those suits on.” He nodded toward a small cabinet built into the side of the plane, only a foot away from where Drake sat.

  With trembling hands, she loosened her harness. She stood, stumbling a moment as her knees buckled. “You do this a lot?”

  David grinned, not seeming to be at all affected by the wild ride. “More than I can legally admit.”

  Laney shook her head with a smile, making her way over to the cabinet. Drake was still trying to undo his harness. She patted his shoulder as she opened the cabinet door. “You okay?”

  “I hate this guy.”

  She laughed. “I kind of like him.”

  “I like you too, Laney,” David called over his shoulder.

  Drake just glared. Laney tossed a jumpsuit at him and started to climb into a second one.

  “Grab the helmets too,” David said. Laney reached in and pulled out two helmets. This time she laughed out loud.

  “What’s so funny?” David asked.

  “We’re familiar with these helmets.” They were the same brand as the ones they’d used when they bailed out of Gerard’s plane.

  “Good. The chutes are in the cabinet by the door.”