Battle Sky (The Battle Series, Book 4)

by Mark Romang

  Before he spoke, Vallen intently watched the last of the vanquished demons leave the beach and fly low over the ocean waves. “Where are they going?”

  “There is a humpback whale out there. When Israfil surrendered he asked me if he and his troops could inhabit the whale.”

  “A strange request. But at least they won’t be able to harass people now,” Vallen said. He looked at Maddix. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it back in time to assist you in the battle. From Seattle I traveled to Jerusalem. Michael demanded to meet with me.”

  “Oh? What did Michael have to say?”

  “He’s requesting we all come at once to Jerusalem and report to him at the Mount of Olives. There is a very large demon contingent there, and they are making war preparations.”

  Webb whistled. “Sounds like we’re about to enter the belly of the beast.”

  Vallen nodded soberly. “We will fight on the frontlines. The battle will be horrific. But the good news is…it might be our last battle. The very last one.”

  Chapter 31

  “I think the helicopters are gone, C.J., maybe we should take a breather,” Brooke panted.

  C.J. slowed his pace from a jog to a fast walk to allow his sister to catch up, but he didn’t stop. “Brooke, you heard the radio transmission. Time is running out on Tanner. And it’s running out on us too. Every second we are on this peninsula the less time we have to rescue Tanner.”

  “Then you’re going to have to go on ahead without me. I’m exhausted. I can’t keep up this crazy pace.”

  Though he didn’t want to, C.J. stopped. The fact of the matter was, Brooke was weaker than him and had shorter legs. And when it came to it, there was no way he would ever leave her behind. “Okay, we’ll take a ten-minute break. And then we’ll hit it again.”

  Brooke walked over to a giant hemlock tree and plopped down on a sword fern growing near its trunk. She leaned her back against the tree and closed her eyes. “Thank-you for being merciful.”

  C.J. sat down next to her. He rubbed his swollen ankle. “Truth be told; I need a break too.”

  Brooke leaned forward and wriggled out of her backpack. She pulled a water bottle out of a pocket on the backpack and drank a small amount, barely enough to wet her lips.”

  “I wish we could’ve grabbed more water from our stash in the bunker. But we didn’t have time,” C.J. said.

  “Didn’t we hide a few bottles in some tree caches?”

  C.J. nodded. “But we are nowhere near the caches. We’d lose too much time backtracking to find them. So we’ll have to ration our water.”

  “If I’m right we only have 36 hours to go, give or take a few hours. Surely we can make it that long on the water we have.”

  “I sure hope you’re right on the timing of Christ’s return. I’m tired of living like this.”

  “I can’t guarantee anything,” Brooke sighed. “And I won’t.”

  C.J cocked his head. “Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “I thought I heard an aircraft.”

  Brooke craned her head all around. “Please say it’s not the helicopter coming back.”

  C.J. grabbed a pair of binoculars from his backpack. He rose to his feet and walked to a small clearing close by. He clambered atop some boulders to get a better vantage point and lifted the binoculars to his eyes. He studied the north sky. After a few moments he said, “It’s not a helicopter, it’s a plane. A float plane to be exact.”

  Brooke climbed up on the boulders to study the sky with him. “The plane is flying low. Do you think it’s having problems?”

  C.J. continued to peer through the binoculars. “No, I think it’s trying to land.”

  “It might be a crash landing then. The only body of water around here is that small lake we passed by several minutes ago. And the lake is hardly more than a pond.”

  “Even so, I’m sure the plane is heading for the lake.” C.J. lowered his binoculars and looked at his sister. “Let’s go watch the plane land.”

  “I thought you were in a big hurry. Every second counts.”

  “The plane looks familiar to me. I think I know who is flying it. And if I’m right, we just found our way off the peninsula.”

  Brooke slipped her backpack over her shoulders. “Then let’s get moving. I’ve got my second wind.”

  Chapter 32

  Fifteen minutes later they pushed through an alder thicket and approached the lake shore. Even though they’d passed by the lake not long ago, Brooke sucked in her breath at the sight. The waning sun glistened off the red wavelets and made the lake sparkle as if rubies filled its cavity instead of water contaminated with blood.

  The lake shone like a gem from afar, yet Brooke found the lake revolting up close.

  Brooke shifted her focus onto the aircraft instead. A float plane bobbed unharmed on the lake’s eastern end. A young woman with flowing red hair worked at mooring the plane to a tree growing close to the water. “What do you think, C.J.? Do you know the pilot?”

  He smiled. “Her name is Gretchen. She’s the Canadian girl who flew Tanner and me over the peninsula. We parachuted out of her plane.”

  “She’s so young to be a pilot and have her own plane.”

  “Her dad was a bush pilot and owned a small hangar. He also taught people how to skydive. Gretchen learned to fly when she was just fourteen. The Rapture took her dad and left her to fend for herself.”

  “What about her mom?”

  “She died when Gretchen was nine or ten.”

  “You’re admiring her, I can tell.”

  “I won’t lie, Sis. I have a thing for redheads. And Gretchen is a wonderful person. You’ll like her.”

  “Do you think she’ll help us?”

  C.J. nodded. “I think this is why she flew here.”

  “There’s only one way to find out for sure. Let’s go talk to her.”

  They walked side by side, circling around the lake toward the float plane. Their shoes must’ve crunched rocks along the lakeshore because as they approached Gretchen, she jerked around. She looked at them suspiciously and pointed a sidearm in their direction.

  C.J. lifted his hands in the universal show of surrender. “Take it easy, Gretchen,” he called out. “It’s me, C.J. Mason. And this is my big sister, Brooke.”

  Recognition flickered in Gretchen’s eyes. She smiled and lowered her firearm. “Where is your brother?” she called out.

  C.J. walked closer to Gretchen. Brooke followed but lagged behind a bit. C.J. stopped when he was within six feet of the red-haired girl. He shook his head sadly. “Tanner was captured earlier today by UWC officers. We think they flew him off the peninsula in a helicopter.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t feel sorry. I’m going to get Tanner back or die trying.”

  Brooke couldn’t stand it any longer. Her curiosity bubbled like simmering soup. “Gretchen, what brought you to this region?”

  Gretchen tucked her gun into a pocket on her jacket. She faced Brooke. “I guess you could say dreams and visions brought me here. I know that sounds odd, but it’s the truth.”

  “May I ask you to expound?”

  The wind kicked up. Gretchen pulled stray hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Please don’t think I’m crazy, because I’m not. But for the past few weeks I’ve been having a recurring dream. In the dream someone is whispering numbers into my ear. I can never see the person in the dream whispering the numbers. I just hear their voice and feel their lips hovering over my ear. This has been going on for some time, and it took me a while to figure out that the numbers are actually longitude and latitude coordinates.

  “Once I figured out they were coordinates I looked them up on a map. I discovered the coordinates belonged to this very lake. At this point I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with these numbers.” Gretchen looked at C.J., her blue eyes grew moist. “But since the lake is on the Olympic Peninsula, I figured the coordinate
s had something to do with you and Tanner. So I started praying for you two. But apparently that wasn’t enough. Yesterday I had a vision. I don’t consider it a dream because it was in the middle of the day and I don’t even remember falling asleep. But in the vision an angel visited me and told me you and Tanner were in trouble. The angel told me to fly here today, and to time my flight so I arrived here at this moment. So I did.”

  “That’s an amazing story, Gretchen,” Brooke said. “It reminds me of Acts 2:17. ‘In the last days,’ God says, ‘I will pour out my Spirit upon all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy. Your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams.’”

  Gretchen laughed nervously. “But I’m not prophesying. And I’m not a young man seeing visions either. And I’m certainly not an old man dreaming dreams.”

  “But we’re in the last days,” Brooke countered. “And the supernatural is about to collide with the natural. I don’t think it’s really all that odd that you had a vision and experienced these dreams. God is on the move.”

  “What did the angel look like?” C.J. asked softly.

  “I can’t tell you much. The light shining off the angel was so intense I had to look away. I remember feeling overwhelmed by his holiness, so much so that I actually thought I was going to die. It was scary.”

  “Well, you didn’t die. And obviously the dream was supernaturally inspired. God pointed you in our direction to help us,” C.J. said.

  “How can I help you?”

  “Can you fly us to Seattle?”

  Gretchen shrugged. “I don’t know if I have enough fuel to get there. And for sure I don’t have enough fuel to make it back home.”

  “You can stay with us if you want to,” C.J. offered.

  Gretchen smiled at him. “I would like that very much. I’ll share what provisions I have with you. But it’s not much.”

  “I’m not worrying about food. What I care about is making it to Seattle. Tanner doesn’t have a chance unless we can get off this peninsula.”

  “I can’t promise you we’ll make it. But I’m willing to give it a shot,” Gretchen said.

  “When can we leave?” C.J. pressed her.

  “I would say as soon as it gets dark. But our best bet would be sometime early in the morning when the city is sleeping. We’ll fly without signal lights. We’ll also fly low to avoid radar. And as soon as we land we’ll have to flee the plane.”

  “But where do we land? We have no idea where they took Tanner,” Brooke said.

  “She has a point,” Gretchen said.

  “Bell Harbor Marina is definitely out. Too close to downtown. We’d get busted for sure,” C.J. said.

  “What about Harbor Island Marina or Shil Shole Bay Marina?” Brooke asked.

  “I’m thinking we skip the marinas altogether. We just pick a spot to land close to shore and bail out.”

  Brooke scowled at her brother. “I really don’t want to take a swim in bloody water if I can at all help it.” She watched C.J.’s jaw clinch and knew she’d chosen her words poorly.

  “We’ve survived worse things.”

  Brooke nodded. “You’re right. We have survived worse things. And I’ll do whatever I have to do for Tanner’s sake.”

  “Okay, we’ll leave at 2 AM,” C.J. said. “Until then I suggest we eat a small bite and try to get some sleep. I have a feeling we won’t be getting much shuteye the next two days. In fact, we may never sleep again.”

  Chapter 33

  Monroe Correctional Facility

  That same moment

  Nathan Banks paced the floor relentlessly. Though his tiny cell remained pitch dark, he knew exactly when to make his turns. He didn’t keep track of his steps, but he figured his subconscious did, for he never ran into the cinderblock wall.

  He walked in rhythm, an enthusiastic cadence.

  Today he had cellmates. Excitement and anxiety vied for his company.

  Today was the day he used to only dream about. Today was like his own personal Independence Day. Today he would become like Edmond Dantes, the protagonist from his favorite novel.

  It got Banks to thinking. He wondered if the world looked any different outside the prison walls, wondered if he would even recognize the city he once lived in. Three years wasn’t considered a long time by most. But three years in the Tribulation was a lifetime.

  Although the promise of freedom excited him, he still felt a little nervous. His dark cell was like a womb, and Banks was about to be delivered into a world filled with light and danger.

  Regardless, he couldn’t stop grinning. Although he didn’t count his steps, he did count off seconds in his head. It was the only way he could keep time. He figured it was around 5:00 PM, give or take a minute or two.

  And 5 PM is when the intolerable Kiefer Bixby comes and escorts him to dinner and the showers.

  Banks rehearsed in his mind his part in the prison break. He silently recited the instructions given to him by the angel. Take off your jumpsuit, but don’t take a shower. I will give you a fresh set of clothes, and then I will escort you to freedom.

  Banks walked up to the door to his cell. If he hadn’t screwed up his counting, he figured it was now straight up 5 PM. He placed his head on the thick steel door. He smiled when he faintly heard the click-clacking sounds made by Kiefer Bixby as he pounded down the corridor to Banks’ cell. Just like clockwork, Banks thought.

  He stepped back and reminded himself to keep his eyes shut. Bixby would try to blind him with his flashlight like he always did. Today Banks wanted his eyes to work as well as they could, given the circumstances.

  Banks took a deep breath and exhaled as he heard the locks disengage in his door. Cooler air entered his cell when the door swung open. But then the hot air coming from Kiefer Bixby’s mouth immediately spoiled the refreshment.

  “You know the drill, Banks. Let’s go!” Bixby thundered.

  Banks walked toward the cooler air, his eyes screwed shut. He brushed against Bixby as he entered the cellblock corridor.

  Bixby fell in behind him. “Something wrong with you, Banks? Why don’t you open your eyes?”

  Banks opened his eyes halfway to acclimate them to the corridor’s harsh lighting. “I’m just sleepy, Kiefer. I didn’t sleep well last night. But I’m sure I’ll revive after I shower,” Banks said. He noticed his pace down the corridor was much faster than usual. Nervous energy surged through his limbs like electricity flowing through power lines. He had a date with an angel and didn’t want to be late. But he forced himself to slow. I can’t make Kiefer suspicious.

  “Well, I don’t know about you taking a shower tonight,” drawled Bixby. “Maybe we’ll just skip it tonight and go straight to the cafeteria. I have some reports to finish up.”

  Banks’ knees trembled. He nearly stopped in his tracks before finding his stride again. “I’ll be fast, Kiefer. In and out. I won’t even soap up.”

  “You’ll be okay skipping a shower for just one day. You don’t do anything to work up a sweat anyway.”

  With the obnoxious correctional officer shadowing him, Banks walked by a cell door. He heard loud wailing and sobs rise up from behind the door. This prisoner was slated to be executed tomorrow. Banks knew he might be next in line. “It’s stifling in my cell, Kiefer. I sweat just sitting still.”

  “I’ll think about the shower. No promises you’ll get one though,” Bixby said.

  Please, Lord, don’t let Kiefer throw a wrench into the plan. Banks passed by the clock on the wall. He glanced up at the digital clock like he always did, and prayed he would never see the timekeeping device again.

  Up ahead he saw Jimmy walk into the corridor and take his post near the door to the showers. The faux guard looked his way. Banks felt his galloping heart quicken even more. This is really happening. I’m not crazy. I’m not imagining this. He hoped the angel had a contingency plan ready just in case Kiefer Bixby threw the plan into chaos.

  Banks came to a stop about seven feet a
way from Jimmy. Kiefer Bixby walked a little past him. “I’m thinking about skipping his shower tonight, Jimmy. We’ll just take Banks to the cafeteria.”

  Banks glanced at Jimmy for help. The angel dressed as a correctional officer merely looked at him impassively. “You know what, Kiefer? How about we skip the cafeteria instead? I’m not really hungry. Yesterday’s meal didn’t agree with me. But I feel grungy,” Banks said.

  Bixby grinned slyly. His toothy sneer made his beady eyes slant together. The hulking CO reached into a pant pocket. He extracted a coin. “I happen to have a Skymolt quarter. We can decide this matter by a coin toss. If it lands on tails you get a shower. If the quarter lands on heads you don’t get a shower.”

  Banks peered at the coin in Bixby’s fleshy palm. A simple coin toss would decide if he kept his head or lost it to an executioner’s axe.

  He had a fifty-fifty chance at winning. He didn’t like it, but wouldn’t complain. There were a lot worse odds. But a Skymolt quarter was something new to him. There hadn’t been Skymolt currency circulating three years ago. For all he knew Henrik Skymolt’s face imprinted both sides. “If that is what you want to do, go ahead and toss it, Kiefer.”

  Bixby nodded his fat head. He tossed the Skymolt coin into the air. Banks watched the quarter flip end over end in the air. The coin seemed to almost defy gravity before it finally dropped and bounced off the linoleum floor, rolling to a stop against the wall a few feet away.

  Bixby took a giant step toward the coin and bent over. He was about to pick up the quarter, but the coin suddenly flipped over one more time. Bixby picked up the coin and frowned. “Well, Banks, I guess this is your lucky day. It’s tails.”