Running on Empty (Journeyman Book 6)

by Golden Czermak

  “I'll be right over for you,” Dajjal told the blade before peering ominously at Gage, like a beast would at its prey. “As for you, I want you to scream for me…”

  The tip of Dajjal’s sword pressed against Gage’s shoulder.

  “One…”

  It sunk through his shirt and into his flesh, sizzling and aflame.

  “Last…”

  Deep it went, hitting rock on the other side.

  “Time…”

  “ARRRGGGHHH!” Gage screamed.

  “Ah! There we go!” Dajjal said with an overabundance of glee. Yanking out the blade, he raised it high for a finishing blow; he looked deranged. “Goodbye, pest!”

  Before the sword moved there was a sudden flash, catching Dajjal off-guard and a voice boomed out of the light.

  “Joey! Do it! Now!”

  “What is this?” Dajjal asked, unimpressed. “When will you learn that it will take far more than a little light show to –”

  A searing pain coursed through Dajjal’s body, cutting off his words.

  “Shut you up?” Joey said in disgust, the light fading to reveal he had plunged the machete right into the demon’s gut.

  “I…” Dajjal began, but he was quickly overcome by gurgling. He stumbled, but did not fall.

  Gage climbed to his feet cautiously, unsure he could believe what was in front him. Not only had Joey managed to land the killing blow to Dajjal, but he was helped by none other than Marcus, standing not three feet away from him.

  “Someone tell me that I’m dreamin’,” Gage muttered.

  Marcus spun around, having heard him.

  “Afraid not, big man,” he replied. “What you see is what you get and it's real as shit.”

  “We did it, G!” Joey exclaimed, resisting the urge to do a little dance.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Gage asked, but a low rumble prevented anyone from immediately answering.

  Everyone turned toward Dajjal, who had started to chuckle.

  “Guys, why is he still breathing?” Joey asked nervously.

  “I don’t know,” Marcus answered. “He should be…”

  “I r-realize now,” Dajjal hacked as he looked into Marcus’ glimmering eyes. “That Death h-has f-fooled us all.”

  “What do ya mean?” Gage asked, suddenly worried when he heard a loud whine, like energy was spooling up toward something nasty.

  An eerie glow was cast from the blade and Dajjal was snapped upright, like a puppet by unseen strings.

  “It m-means that you and me w-were n-nothing but p-pawns in this little g-game,” Dajjal laughed. “HIS game!”

  The other five treasures began flickering and the demon was pulled up toward the sky. On he rose and his body was flipped upside down; his arms outstretched. With his head now pointed toward the ground, jets of impossibly black light shot out from the Solomon Six. They formed an inverted cross and there was a loud groan, as if the Earth itself were in immeasurable pain.

  “Gage, this doesn't look or sound too good…” Joey began, but suddenly Dajjal’s body exploded into wet chunks and from the center, fire came like a bomb, consuming the area.

  Yet it was not the end for Gage, or Joey, or anyone else still living that was nearby. They had been shielded at the last possible moment from the explosion by something equally amazing.

  “Azrael?” asked Gage in amazement, looking at the angel in front of him. “What are ya doing here?”

  “Saving you,” he replied. “We all are.”

  Once Azrael had moved his bulky body out of the way, Gage could see the surrounding area. It looked like a blast zone, yet there were angels everywhere, hunched over the survivors with their wings wrapped around them.

  Joey got to his feet, helped by Marcus. He had been saved by his partner’s loving embrace, though his feathers were smoking.

  “Thanks…” Joey said softly, unsure of anything else he could say that wouldn't make him seem like a gibbering idiot.

  “I told you nothing could keep us apart.”

  “Azrael,” Gage said. “What the fuck happened? Is Dajjal dead?”

  The angel nodded, but his look said that wasn't all.

  “Gage,” Azrael said with great sadness, “the world’s been consumed in fire and there isn't much time.”

  “WHAT?” Gage said with his head bowed, utterly crushed. “Despite what we did?”

  “Sadly… it seems the answer to that is yes. Thankfully not everywhere, but it has happened in a dozen locations around the world, corresponding to the vile vortices.”

  Joey was appalled.

  “Is the damage…”

  “Extensive?” Samael asked. “Yes. There are angels at each location right now using their powers to contain the spires of Hell and keep the fires from spreading. However, those within each vortex have already been lost. We are going to close them, but alas, many horrors have already escaped from inside.”

  “I'm not sure what to make of all this,” Gage said, feeling a change in the wind. “I… um… do ya know what DJ meant before he exploded, about us all being played?”

  Azrael looked to the clouded sky.

  “Gage, do you recall what type of magic destroyed the Lodge?”

  “Why are ya askin’…” Gage bemoaned, met by Azrael’s steely gaze. “Um… it was fundamental magic. At least that's what I think it's called.”

  “Right. To be able to cast such spells requires a lot of power and death to use. I believe a Hell Knight’s power was used for the incident at the Lodge.”

  “Exactly,” said Marcus, catching on.

  “Then to summon the remaining Hell Knights, Dajjal used the lives of monsters, and to summon the Necrophage in Paris, hundreds of thousands of human lives. Do you see where I am going with this?”

  “I think so…” Joey replied.

  “Yes,” Azrael continued while nodding, “it would seem that Dajjal’s death by means of the fully powered blade was actually the spark needed to activate the fundamental magic imbued in the five items, allowing the portal of Hell to open around the world. That many souls at once would have been a massive surge of power for the Grim Reaper, but we managed to stop a lot of the flow and the other reapers are taking the souls where they belong.”

  Gage’s heart sank deeper than Hell itself. The wind around them was getting stronger.

  “So it was Death’s intention all along to have the apocalypse happen,” Gage said, nearly in tears from guilt. “He used us… me… to activate the fucking door!”

  “There was no way you could have known,” said Samael. “We suspect even Solomon was in on it. After all the items were in his possession and do carry his name.”

  “That doesn't make the pain any easier to handle,” Gage replied, the wind whipping violently past his face. “Where is Death?”

  “Sadly, vanished without a trace,” Azrael said disappointingly. “The other reapers will resume the search for him after they are finished here. He will pay for…”

  Azrael was cut short, for amidst the building gale came a darkness the angels had not felt since the beginning. His blue eyes widened with fear.

  “HE IS HERE!” Azrael shrieked. “GAGE, YOU ALL MUST GET AWAY FROM HERE! NOW!”

  “Who’s here?” Gage asked, already moving away. “Death?”

  “NO! LUCIFER!”

  The angels turned and saw before them a towering pillar of shadow standing in front of a fiery portal; its horned and beastly head was crowned with sparks. Crouching, it extended a wicked hand, reaching for the five artifacts now strewn haphazardly across the ground.

  “We cannot let him touch those!” Samael fretted. “Marcus, quickly!”

  “On it!” he replied, starting to nimbly scoop up each of the treasures in his arms.

  Lucifer roared.

  “The Devil is not happy,” Azrael stated, noticing a fire in Lucifer’s malicious stare. “Brace yourself!”

  Tongues of hellfire lashed out, splitting the already blackened Earth. As
the fires tore across the ground toward the angels, they unfurled their white wings and glowing, wrapped them around like shields.

  At least Azrael had, for Samael was not fast enough and took the full brunt of Lucifer’s blast to his body.

  “NO!” Azrael cried from the protection of his wings, even as they began to burn away.

  He watched in horror as Samael’s body turned at first to bone, then cinders, then crumbled away before his silvery grace was whisked away in the flames. There was no more time and Azrael knew what he had to do. Flaring his wings wide, he launched himself toward the Devil in a fury.

  Gage and Joey heard the deafening boom, turning in time to see Azrael rushing the colossal shadow. Marcus arrived at their side with the six treasures in hand, joining to watch the spectacle in awe. He stood ready just in case he needed to protect them again.

  “Brothers and Sisters, now!” Azrael screamed and with a stabbing blade of light he struck, piercing Lucifer’s gut as he thrust him back into the fires of Hell, where they were both shrouded in flames.

  Marcus fell to his knees in tears, realizing what was about to happen.

  “What’s going on, Marcus?” asked Joey innocently, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder like he always had before.

  “The angels,” he said softly. “They are about to end this.”

  On queue, thousands of angels surrounding the swirling pillars of fire at the vile vortices placed their hands together in prayer while singing in chorus. White light issued from their eyes and open mouths, burning their outstretched wings like cross shaped wards against the darkness. Soon after, the towering portals began to sway and wither, and the angels did too. It all ended moments later in simple silence, for the sacrifice of angels made that day would be remembered for longer than Dajjal could have ever dreamed of.

  THE SUN CONTINUED to rise, the dawn of a brand new day burning away the fog, but the great fires, smoke, and reek prevailed. Even with the main battle ended, the din of fighting continued amongst the wreckage and carcasses of beast and human alike.

  The survivors were grouped in triage tents, the fluttering white canopies magically suspended in the air above the quick working medical mages.

  Joey stood beneath one of the smaller ones, set up close to the spot where Dajjal’s caravan had been destroyed. Smoldering ruin was all around.

  “But do you really have to go?” Joey whined, grasping at Marcus’ hand.

  Marcus squirmed free and grabbed at the cross on Joey's necklace, which happened to peek out from his stained shirt at that very moment.

  “This little thing seemed to work quite well, didn't it?” he asked proudly, ignoring Joey’s pining. “Brought me back to you in the end, even if we had a little help from the Grail.”

  Joey’s hands were quick, latching right back onto Marcus. For an angel, his hands felt uncharacteristically cold.

  “Yeah, exactly,” Joey insisted. “You're back, so why do you have to go away again so soon?”

  “It's out of my hands. Apparently there's a lot of shit happening upstairs that needs to be addressed,” Marcus answered, pointing straight up.

  “Well then, let the higher ups deal and…”

  “Joey!” Marcus said with a laugh. “I love you baby, but breathe. You're fretting again. Remember, we aren't in control of everything that happens, so we need to learn to adapt. In other words: go with the flow, okay?”

  “But…”

  “Trust me,” Marcus pressed, along with a warm smile.

  Joey nodded, at last convinced. He ran his fingers through Marcus’ beard. It was softer than anything he'd ever felt before.

  “Okay then,” Joey replied, sighing heavily to curb the tears. “I'll trust you.”

  “Good,” Marcus replied with a hug, “because there may yet be some surprises to come.”

  Marcus stepped away from his partner, whom he could really tell was bottling up some potent emotions. His stomach squirmed, knowing how much Joey cared. Looking away, his eyes settled on a steel tray atop a set of spindly legs. There Marcus saw the Solomon Six and he approached them.

  “Strange, isn’t it? In all our time collecting these, we never sought spells or any other means to actually destroy them.” He passed a hand over the tray and there was a turbulent rattling, coupled with a bright cobalt light. “Mainly due to the unknown of what would happen to Gage if we did anything while he was wearing them. But now that they’re here, all in one place without an owner, just like that our problems are taken care of.”

  Removing his hand the light and sound faded away; the tray was empty. He glanced back to Joey longingly and smiled.

  “I love you,” he said and then was gone in a soft aura of white.

  THE SLAUGHTER STRETCHED out as far as the eye could see, Evans and Quileth both in one of the many designated monster pavilions. They each knew the other looked like shit that had gone through the system twice, but thankfully had enough etiquette to avoid mentioning it. The same did not apply to the curt medical mage making rounds in their tent.

  “You both really look like shit, you know?” he said without the slightest hint of bedside manner, “but thankfully it’s nothing we can’t fix up for you in no time. I just need you to stand still.”

  “Oh, so you actually need me to do that as well?” Evans asked scornfully. “I’m surprised you’re not able to do it while I’m sprinting a hundred-meter dash.”

  The mage’s lips grew thinner than a hair, and he coughed as if trying to stop himself apologizing.

  “Suit yourself, vampire. You’re not going to die anyway,” the mage snipped before trotting out of the tent in a huff.

  Quileth laughed, removing his electronic smoker. Evans had his arm extended and fingers beckoning before Quileth had even taken a draw.

  “Come on,” the vampire said, “give it over. I’m going to need it, especially since I have to see those shifter brothers pretty soon.”

  Quileth obliged, after taking a massive draw himself and the two of them settled into an energetic laugh.

  Across the devastation in a large human centric tent, Hammer was sitting between two beds occupied by badly burned remains. His chiseled face was exhausted; his expression devastated. Already a man of few words, Hammer sat in silence with his sledgehammer upside-down between his legs. His forehead rested on the end of its long handle, the only sound he made was a subtle sigh that accompanied tears, which had not stopped since finding both Henry and Brandon out in the wastes two hours ago.

  In the same tent, Gage was doing something similar, gazing at the dimming light of his brightest star. He had found Adrienne’s body in the battlefield after the angels had sealed Hell, guiding rescuers to her as soon as he could.

  Adrienne! Oh God, not this again… he pleaded as he sat beside her, though his frown quickly became a smile when she slowly opened her eyes.

  “G-Gage?” she asked weakly. “I… I assume we made it?”

  “Yeah,” he answered, “though somehow ya always seem to look like shit by the end of it.”

  She tried to laugh, but it hurt everywhere.

  “Says you…” she replied. “Who always looks like shit.”

  “That ain’t what ya said to me when I came back from the dead,” he countered, smiling large.

  “I might have been lying,” she said, wincing at the last.

  “Well, I won’t hold that against ya one bit,” he said, passing his hands through her hair. There were little chunks of rock and bits of dried mud in there, but it still felt so damn good. “Now rest for a bit, darlin’, since we actually can.”

  Back out in the wreckage, Ty spotted a familiar face walking by somberly. It was Joey, who was also looking for any survivors.

  “Find anyone else?” Ty asked sorrowfully, taking off his glasses to rub his smoke-irritated eyes.

  “Nobody that the first sweeps didn't already catch,” was Joey’s reply, the realization that there were far more dead than alive sinking in.

  “This n
ever gets easy, losing ones you care about,” Ty said. “Feels like the Incursion all over again.”

  “Well, there's a silver lining for us at least. Ty, I have good news. It's about Mar –”

  Cough.

  “What was that?” Joey asked, stopping in his tracks. “It sounded like a cough maybe?”

  “Yeah, I heard,” Ty replied, “but any idea where…”

  Cough. Cough.

  “I think over there,” Joey said, pointing toward a mound of blackened bodies. It was difficult to make out what they had once been and they stank.

  The two sprinted over and Joey began to push pieces off the top, making a disturbing thumping sound as they rolled. Ty joined in and before long, a familiar face peeked out from the char.

  “Hey there buddy,” Joey said softly, removing a piece of something dark and sticky from the man’s face. “It's good to see you're still around. Rescue must've missed you when they first swept the area.”

  “I’ve f-felt a lot better,” Nathaniel replied, shivering slightly as his eyes darted between the two of them. “I… can’t hear much h-happening out there. H-hope I haven't lost m-my hearing.”

  “That’s because the battle’s done,” Ty replied, handing him a small vial from his pocket to drink. “Place all of that into your mouth and hold it there for a few seconds, then swallow. It should alleviate the pain and shivers.”

  Nathaniel did as was instructed and sure enough, after swallowing he felt a lot better.

  “C-can I see?” Nathaniel asked. “Just around the area… I wanna see.”

  After checking him for additional injuries and giving each other a few passing glances, Ty and Joey pulled Nathaniel up slightly. He moved his head slowly as he panned across the surroundings.

  “So I need to ask: did we win?” Nathaniel asked woozily.

  “We sure did,” Joey replied with as much of a smile he could muster, “although I know it looks like shit out there.”

  Nathaniel smiled back and loosely nodded.

  “That’s good! Because I would sure hate to wake up from this all right now and out find that it had been a dream…” He was enthusiastic, but grimaced at a sudden ache in his legs. Glancing down, he realized that he was now missing both of them. “Except for that maybe; I wouldn’t mind finding out that part was just a dream.”