Rapture

by Phillip W. Simpson

  “And what about the Antichrist?” asked Sam.

  “I’m coming to that. Patience. We’d been here a few weeks when we started seeing changes. We heard things. Most of the demons disappeared off the streets at night and stopped taking people. It seemed to become more organized out there, like someone had taken charge. Then we learnt about the mark of the beast. That was almost our undoing at first – some of them posing as free citizens came close to discovering our base. We soon got wise. I don’t know if you’d noticed, but this city still functions because of that mark. It may only come alive at night but it’s the mark that drives it. If you have got the mark, you are free to carry on your usual activities. Many shops and businesses are still open at night. Those that run them are all marked. I’ve heard the same system operates in other places.”

  Sam nodded, thinking about Las Vegas.

  “Those that don’t, get taken. Some come back but all bear the mark when they return. Now, we’re fighting a battle against two enemies. We’ve got the demons, who we usually attack in the churches. We’ve managed to destroy a few already. Then we’ve got the humans who have joined the cause of this false ‘messiah’ as they’re calling him. We have to be careful of them during the day. The Antichrist keeps a close watch on the city and has patrols out. And then there’s the matter of his headquarters.”

  Sam sat forward suddenly. This was the information he needed. The location of the Antichrist.

  “Yes, I can see you’re interested in this bit,” said the Colonel. “It’s actually quite timely that you turned up when you did. The Antichrist is holed up in the Cathedral of the Lady of our Angels. Ironic that. That’s where he probably is right now.”

  The Colonel smiled savagely. “And that’s where we’re gonna hit him in two days time.”

  According to one of the soldiers Sam spoke to, it had been early Tuesday morning when his meeting with the Colonel had taken place. For a long time, Sam had paid absolutely no attention to the date so it was with some surprise that he found that it was October. It had been almost two months since the Rapture.

  The attack on the Antichrist’s headquarters was scheduled for Thursday, midday. Sam spent much of the next day preparing. He was given his swords back which he took pains to sharpen. He hadn’t slept at all, finding a few hours of meditation more than sufficient for his needs. His wound from the Hellhound disappeared.

  He was largely ignored by the other soldiers and the few civilians present. Word had clearly gotten out about what he was and when someone did look at him, it was with suspicion. Sam sighed. Some things never changed.

  Joshua and Grace had all but recovered from their injuries. When Sam had re-joined them after his meeting with the Colonel, both were sporting fresh bandages on their heads. Joshua had even had his wrist wrapped again. All three had been supplied with a cot in a curtained off area of the warehouse that served as sleeping quarters.

  Grace seemed distant, obviously badly affected by the news of her uncle and aunt’s death. They had been, Sam knew, her last remaining relatives left on earth. Now she had no-one. He knew how that felt and gave her what sympathy and comfort her could offer. She seemed to channel her grief, using it to fuel her anger. There was no way, she insisted, that she was going to miss out on the coming attack. The demons would pay for what they had done to her family.

  On the morning before the attack, Sam was practising with his swords when he saw Grace approach one of the soldiers who was doing weapon checks. Many weapons were laid out on the long table he was working on. He was systematically disassembling them, oiling each part and then painstakingly putting them back together again.

  Sam moved closer so he could hear what was being said. He realized with a start that he recognized the man

  – it was Casey, the soldier who had initially searched

  them when they had arrived.

  “Can I have a gun, please?” she asked.

  Casey looked at her sideways. “Have you got the Colonel’s permission?”

  Grace nodded. “He said he needs everyone he can possibly get for this attack.”

  “Do you know how to use a gun?”

  “My uncle showed me. Handguns only though. Have you got any?”

  Casey smiled. “Sure have,” he said. He picked up a black side-arm. “This is the Beretta, sometimes called the M9. Standard issue for the armed forces. It’s loaded with hollow point bullets, designed to expand when they enter a body. More tissue damage, you see. They also stay within that target. That is, they don’t go through it. Less chance of hitting a friendly.”

  “How does that help me against demons?” she asked.

  “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” grinned Casey. “Normally, hollow points have casings made of lead. We replaced the tips with iron. They do have a tendency to go through demons a bit more, so be careful.” He handed her the gun. “Do you want to squeeze off a few rounds? We’ve got a small sound-proof firing range out back.”

  Grace looked at the weapon in her hands and back to Casey. “Definitely.” Sam watched as Casey led her away. He’d have to keep an eye on Grace, even though he would probably have his hands full trying to track down the Antichrist. He sensed that she was likely to do something that was driven by her urge for revenge, and it would probably be best not to get in her way.

  He went looking for Joshua. His friend had been moody during the last couple of days and had hardly spoken to him. Probably reflecting on their time spent in Hell. That was enough to disturb even the strongest mind. Sam was a bit worried about him, too. Joshua, like Grace, had lost everyone important to him during the Rapture. He was very much a closed book though. Even Sam, who was accustomed to not speaking about his feelings, realized that Joshua had a lot of pent up aggression and grief. He simply did not want to talk about it.

  Sam owed him a great debt of gratitude. Joshua had volunteered to come with him to L.A. No-one had forced him. Perhaps he had done Joshua a favour – it sounded like Adam and the Black Ridge survivors had been taken – but regardless, the other boy had made sacrifices for him. It was something that Sam would never forget.

  Over at Joshua’s cot, Sam found his baseball bat missing. Perhaps Joshua, like him, was practising for the attack. If Sam could find him, he could probably give him some pointers. He continued to search right through the buildings that made up the resistance headquarters. They were extensive; the Colonel must have knocked down walls leading into adjacent buildings – the place seemed to go on forever.

  He couldn’t find Joshua anywhere. He asked some of the soldiers. One told him that he had seen a teenage boy matching Joshua’s description down near the front roller doors some hours earlier. Sam had already checked that area.

  He searched again. Still nothing.

  Joshua had disappeared.

  14

  WRATH

  PRESENT

  “Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.”

  Romans 12:21

  The armoured personnel carrier rumbled along through the streets of L.A in broad daylight. Through the firing slits, Sam could see other vehicles belonging to the strike force alongside them. Included amongst them was the light tank which was Colonel Sumner’s mobile command centre. Sam could hear sporadic gun fire from outside. They’d already encountered the Antichrist’s human forces on their way towards the Cathedral. So far, they appeared to have put up little resistance.

  Next to him sat Grace and nine other heavily armed soldiers, including Casey. No one spoke. Grace wore a flak jacket that had been hastily adjusted to her small frame, and a helmet that was at least two sizes two big. Sam had helped her pad it with paper towels so that it wouldn’t wobble around too much. Her Beretta was holstered at her waist.

  At the insistence of Colonel Sumner, Sam also wore a flak jacket – not from any concerns about demons, but more to protect him from friendly fire. Also at the insistence of the Colonel, he wore an army cap to identify him to his allies. Sam suspecte
d that the Colonel just wanted him to conceal his horns. His troops were already nervous as it was; one sign of horns and they would probably shoot first and ask questions later. His swords were strapped to their accustomed positions at his back and waist.

  His thoughts were still whirling following the disappearance of Joshua. He really didn’t know why his friend had left. If he didn’t want to fight, why hadn’t he just said so? No-one was going to insist that he came with them on the attack. Perhaps Josh believed that he had fulfilled his obligation to him? He’d set out to get Sam to L.A and had done just that. Now, maybe, he thought he was free to leave? If that was the case though, why hadn’t he said goodbye? Sam was a little saddened and confused by the turn of events.

  He put such thoughts aside. He really would have to concentrate now. At long last, he was here to do what he had set out to do; confront the Antichrist and defeat him if he could. That was a big if, though. Despite it being daylight, Sam doubted that the Antichrist would be defenceless.

  He’d checked the map of L.A before they had left. Surprisingly, the Cathedral was only around three miles as the crow flew from their base of operations, which was fortunate given that fuel for the myriad of vehicles involved in the attack was in short supply.

  The Colonel had planned the attack carefully. The light tank and the APC were the most heavily armoured vehicles he had in his possession. He planned to use those to break through the perimeter of the Cathedral and into the building itself. The Humvees and jeeps were to provide support and keep the Antichrist’s human forces off their backs. Once inside the Cathedral, Sam was free to move off and confront the creature.

  It was a simple plan but Sam could see no obvious flaws in it. He’d asked the Colonel why they hadn’t attacked before. The Colonel had explained it had taken this long to build up the amount of iron tipped ammunition that they would need which sounded reasonable to Sam.

  The APC continued to trundle along. More gunfire broke out. Sam heard the unmistakeable sound of the .50 calibre M2 machine gun open up above them. It was mounted on top of the vehicle and Sam almost felt sorry for anyone who got in the way of the lethal barrage of shells it was capable of unleashing. Next to them, the light tank started firing away with its main cannon.

  The commander of the APC, a Captain Sam had never seen before, turned around and faced the troops.

  “We’re nearing the Cathedral,” he shouted over the tumult. “The tank is clearing the way for us. The doors should be wide open when we get there. When I give the command, I want you all out of here. Use the APC for as much cover as possible. More support should be available as soon as the soldiers in the other vehicles get here. Go hard and get the job done.”

  Sam glanced over to Grace. Her mouth was twisted up in anger and she was squeezing one of the hand-grips so hard her knuckles were turning white. Sam put one hand over hers and she gave him a tight smile in thanks.

  “You’ll be fine,” he said.

  “You just watch yourself,” she countered. “Try to come back in one piece.”

  The APC suddenly slanted upwards, jolting the occupants as if climbing stairs. It juddered to a halt. The rear ramp slammed down. “Go, go, go,” yelled the Captain.

  Sam raced out with the other soldiers, making sure he kept close to Grace. They found themselves in the ambulatory – the walkway leading into the church. The APC had stopped just within it and they were under heavy fire from the Antichrist’s troops at the top of a small incline. Just ahead of him was the Colonel’s tank. Its passage through the walkway had left a deep scar in the low roof. Now though, it appeared stuck. The tank wasn’t going any further.

  Even as he watched, its main cannon fired a shell at the enemy troops ahead of them, the roar deafening in the confined space. The round flashed straight into the concrete roof above the heads of the crouching defenders. The roof exploded, showering both sides with lumps of concrete and white powder. A chunk of rock narrowly missed his head as it whizzed past. He looked around for Grace and was relieved to find that she was crouched nearby, sheltering next to the armoured bulk of the APC. Sam saw some of the enemy crushed by great chunks of stone while the others retreated, unable to match the firepower at the Colonel’s disposal.

  The entire walkway shuddered. The roof, not designed to withstand the punishment it had just taken, collapsed completely, burying the tank and partially covering the APC. The friendly forces surrounding Sam slowly stood up, dusting white powder off their uniforms and checking themselves for injuries. Vaguely, he realized he had been the only person standing throughout. Some of the soldiers roused themselves and began clambering over the tank, trying to clear the rubble and free their trapped Colonel.

  Sam looked up. The collapse of the walkway’s roof had an entirely unexpected effect, revealing the actual Cathedral for the first time. It soared above him, magnificent in its grandeur. Sam had to admit it was spectacular. Under different circumstances, he would have loved to have come here and explore this wonderful structure. He was about to look away when he noticed furtive movement on the rooftop. He opened his mouth to shout a warning but it was too late.

  Beside him, the Captain had just given the order to advance. The words were barely out of his mouth when he was struck several times by an extremely high powered rifle, punching straight through his armoured flak jacket. Time was beginning to slow down again for Sam and he saw the bullets as they exited through the Captain’s chest. He looked down in horror at the gaping hole that had once been his chest, glanced once at Sam and then toppled to the ground, dead.

  “Snipers!” yelled Sam, silently cursing himself for his delay. If only he’d been a bit quicker. “Get down.”

  Around him, the other soldiers complied, finding cover and returning fire. He grabbed Grace and pulled her towards a nearby pile of rubble, Sam feeling impotent as Grace fired her Baretta at the targets above her. His swords were useless in this situation.

  The gunner on top of the APC pivoted the M2 skywards and opened up, sending a deadly barrage at the figures on the rooftop. The roar of the heavy gun was shockingly loud in the confined space. The defenders returned fire, sparks flying off the APC as it was hit several times.

  “RPG! One of them’s got an RPG!” shouted a voice from someone close by.

  The warning, once again, came too late. A figure on the roof was standing, the unmistakeable shape of a rocket launcher over his shoulder. The rocket propelled grenade shot out, straight at the APC. It slammed into the turret, exploding with concussive force and a shower of molten shrapnel. The heavy M2 machine gun stopped firing, the operator lying slumped next to the burning wreckage.

  “For God’s sake, take him out!” roared a familiar voice. Sam looked over at the tank. The other soldiers had not been idle. They had cleared the rubble off the top of the armoured vehicle, enabling the Colonel to reemerge. Judging from his expression, he was not pleased with the way the battle was going so far.

  Chastened, his troops rushed to obey, returning fire with renewed vigour. The tank’s main cannon was swivelling, trying to get a bead on the roof, impeded slightly by twisted pipes of reinforcing iron dangling from the almost completely destroyed ceiling. Sam could see the enemy soldiers on the roof desperately looking for cover.

  The tank’s cannon fired, hitting a spot only slightly to the left of where the RPG user had frantically been trying to reload. He disappeared in a fireball along with several of his comrades and a large chunk of the Cathedral roof. Wreckage once again rained down upon the attackers.

  The Colonel turned to his troops. “Well,” he demanded impatiently. “What are you waiting for? Go and get them!”

  Several of his men cheered. Almost as one, the soldiers charged down the destroyed walkway, leaping over piles of rubble. Sam and Grace followed behind them slightly more cautiously.

  Ahead of them, the other soldiers were finding positions of cover, darting into openings of several smaller devotional chapels that opened up onto the walkway.The forces of
the Antichrist had used the distraction during the rooftop fire fight to dig in, and had once again opened up on their attackers. The soldiers laid down a covering fire, forcing the defenders back into other openings.

  Sam used the opportunity to charge up the incline, drawing his swords, with Grace just behind him firing her Beretta. He felt bullets impact against his armour but it didn’t even slow him down. A man rose up before him, snarling, and Sam cut him down without hesitation. Two more moved to replace him but Sam dispatched them without thinking.

  They sped around a corner, content to let the resistance deal with the rest of the Antichrist’s followers, and found themselves in the Baptistry. Steps led down into an immersion pool, into which four red granite fonts poured a continuous stream of water. Sam was surprised to see it still working although he knew that the water pouring from it would no longer be holy.

  They descended the steps quickly. Sam was about to step into the water but before he could, three sinuous figures rose, dripping water down their all-but naked bodies. Sam froze. He had encountered these creatures before. Succubi. He felt his pulse starting to race as they moved seductively towards them. His eyes darted between them, feasting on the glorious sight of their flesh. His swords fell with a clutter from nerveless fingers. He didn’t even notice. All he cared about was touching these beautiful creatures. Voices were whispering in his head telling him that it was alright. Touch them, kiss them, the voice commanded.

  Sam waded into the water, intent on obeying the command, everything else forgotten.

  “That’s right,” said the brunette. “Come to us, Samael. No man or demon can resist us.”

  Sam was reaching out to the first of them when the sharp retort of gunfire shocked him out of the spell as if someone had just splashed a bucket full of ice-cold water over him. The first of the succubi stood still in front of him, her eyes and mouth open in surprise. Between her perfect eyes, a symmetrical hole had appeared, charred around the edges. She slowly toppled and landed with a splash in the baptistry pool. The other two succubi screamed.