by Adam Moon
The air stunk of gunpowder now and little wisps of smoke wafted throughout the cavernous church.
But Luke was still standing there. His clothes were in tatters but there was no blood on them.
When the general saw that he was unfazed, he panicked. Despite all he'd seen in life, his brain still wasn't conditioned to process the impossible. He stumbled backwards by a step.
One of his men whispered, "What the fuck?"
Then Luke spoke. "I told you that you had the wrong guy sir. But you tried to hurt me, so now we have beef."
With that, Luke got down on one knee and pushed his hands into the floor. It didn't appear as though he'd broken the floor boards. His hands and forearms simply sunk in like the floor was made of mud.
General Marks could see Luke concentrating, and his shoulders heaving just a bit.
Then Luke looked up. He looked around the room, taking it all in.
The general heard a scream and when he turned to the source, he saw that one of his men had erupted into flames. Then another scream from the opposite side of the room came to him. Another man was aflame. All around him, men and women were burning. The shadows in the church flickered and danced as his men died in abject agony.
The general turned on his heels and ran for the front doors. He'd never considered himself a coward, but there was nothing to be done in a situation this surreal. His training hadn't covered anything like this. Before he reached them, three columns of flame rose from the ground right in front of him.
He halted in his tracks. He turned about, disoriented. All of his men were lit up like matchsticks. Some were flailing around, while others were writhing on the ground. The screams were becoming strangled and weak.
Why weren't his sentries outside coming in to help? Hadn't they heard their teammates dying?
When the screams died off, Luke pulled his arms out of the floor. His shirt sleeves were missing from the elbows down and his skin was red raw. Smoke or maybe steam rose from his bare arms.
He stepped from the stage and the general screamed.
Luke laughed as though he was having the time of his life. He walked right up to the general and stopped a foot in front of him.
The general got down on his knees and begged for mercy. He was weeping like a baby.
Luke said, "This is pathetic."
Then he placed a hand on top of the general's head.
Instantly the general felt a sense of calm wash over him. He realized it like an epiphany: He had gone after the wrong guy. This wasn't the Jack that he knew. This was some kind of God.
The touch took away all feelings of hopelessness, regret, guilt, greed, sadness, and all the other emotions that had plagued the general over the past year. He gave himself wholly to his new God.
Mopping up
Lucifer wiped his hands on his pants leg as he walked from the splattery remains of the general.
Everyone inside the church was dead; well, almost everyone. He walked back up to the stage and loomed over his last remaining follower. The guy was quaking. From where he stood he could clearly see that he'd pissed himself too.
He couldn't have any witnesses to what had just happened and he wasn't sure how much the guy had seen. He reached down and put his hand on his followers head. The man instantly relaxed, right before he went pop.
But his work was still not done. There were men outside the church and there were men going for Melanie and Jessie and they all had to be stopped.
But first, to get rid of the evidence. He plunged his forearms into the ground once more and beckoned the flames. He sent them to every dead body and let them burn as brightly and ferociously as was needed to turn the bones into dust and then ash.
When he was done, he forced the fires away.
He slowly took a single step from the church and was shot in the chest point blank for his troubles. He grabbed the rifle, and then the arm that held it, and dragged the shooter inside the church to dispose of him in private.
The guy kept firing until Lucifer placed his hand on top of his head. Then the man slumped to his knees, a big dopey grin on his face.
Lucifer popped him and waited for his buddies to come snooping around.
He knelt and dug his arms into the ground again, summoning the fires, but forcing them to stand their ground until they were needed.
The first guard pointed his gun through the doorway and opened fire. Lucifer pretended to slump forward, dead, to lure him and his companion inside. It worked.
The man and his teammate, a woman, crept into the building and closed the church doors behind them.
The woman screamed at the sights and smells of death and the man said, "What the fuck is this?"
Lucifer gave them fire.
Quick Draw
Melanie had taken two men out already but now she was fucked because the rest now knew where she was.
She didn't know exactly how many armed men and women were down there, but there were a few, at least, and only one of her. They had the advantage but she still maintained the higher ground.
The sounds of footsteps and whispers were peculiarly absent for a full minute. Then she heard a scuffle and saw a young man and woman dragging Jessie past her field of vision. The child didn't appear hurt but it was difficult to tell from so far away.
How had the bastards found him? Did Jessie make a noise? No, they probably checked the crawl space because it was the most likely hiding place. She felt like an idiot for not thinking this all the way through.
The woman bellowed, "We have the boy. Come out unarmed."
The threat was implied: They'd shoot him if she refused.
But then again, she was pretty sure they'd shoot them both anyway. But she had no choice but to comply.
She placed both of her pistols at her feet and said, "Weapons are down. I'm coming downstairs."
She put her hands behind her head as she descended.
The woman had Jessie lofted in the air in a choke hold, more to act as a meat shield than to keep him from escaping.
The man approached and patted her down roughly.
"All clear," he said.
The woman shoved Jessie into Melanie and trained her gun between them.
The woman said to Melanie, "You know why we're here. We don't want to make this any harder on you than it has to be."
Melanie nodded. She knew this day might come. She just wasn't ready to die right then. She tried to make peace but she couldn't.
The man said in a soft, reassuring voice, "Please kneel."
Melanie looked at Jessie and nodded. There were tears in his eyes.
She knelt first, hoping he'd follow her lead. This could all be over quickly and with little heartache if everyone did their part.
Jessie glared at the man and said, "No."
The armed man said, "Come on kid," then he looked at Melanie and said, "Please ask him to join you."
Melanie's voice was croaky as she said, "Please Jessie. This will be over in a second. There's nothing to fear."
Jessie had the man locked in a defiant stare. "I'm not afraid. I'm sad."
Jessie's features hardened so subtly Melanie almost missed it. She tried to get him to look into her eyes, but his gaze was far away and unfathomable.
She said, "Jessie. Please."
Finally Jessie's eyes came back into focus. He looked at Melanie and smiled so sweetly she thought her heart would evaporate.
He said, "Stand up Melanie. They're gone."
Melanie opened her mouth to plead with him some more when his words sank in and she stopped herself.
She looked towards the man but he was no longer there, and neither was his female comrade. Melanie looked back at Jessie, then back at the empty space where their future assassins once stood only seconds earlier.
She didn't know if she was dreaming or going insane. Had she imagined the whole thing?
Jessie reiterated, "Stand up."
Melanie stood on wobbly legs. She looked around just to be su
re and then she started to sob uncontrollably. Jessie hugged her midsection until her wracked fits of anguish subsided.
She finally asked, "What happened?"
"I think they had second thoughts about killing a kid and an innocent, unarmed woman so they left."
"I didn't see or hear them leave."
"I did."
Melanie shook her head until the thoughts aligned. But it did no good. Reality was not conforming to her perceptions.
She suspected Jessie had a hand in those two soldiers vanishing, but she couldn't prove it and for some reason she was afraid to ask him just in case he told her the truth.
She took his hand and they both walked out the front door together. She had to find Luke. Soldiers would be coming for him too, if they hadn't done so already.
Relief
Lucifer drove like a bat out of hell. He rounded the corner of his block and saw Melanie and Jessie walking down the sidewalk hand in hand.
His heart leapt for joy. He'd grown attached to them in his own way. Plus, if they were alive, then the situation hadn't gotten exponentially out of hand; he didn't want to show up on anyone's radar just yet.
He screeched to a halt and jumped out of the car.
Melanie looked bewildered and emotionally wrecked but the boy looked as he always did: Disinterested.
Melanie was stammering but Lucifer got the gist of what happened. Armed men had come for them and they'd somehow defeated them.
She said she'd killed at least two of them at the foot of the stairs so he had his work cut out for him. Those bodies had to go.
After a few minutes of negotiating he was able to talk Melanie into returning to the scene of the crime so he could assess the situation. He wasn't exactly sure how easy it would be to bury the bodies without attracting any unwanted attention, but he couldn't give them fire in front of Melanie and the boy so he'd just have to wing it.
But when they went inside, the bodies were gone. There wasn't even any blood on the walls or the carpeting. But there had been a struggle, that was for certain. Ornaments and knick knacks were strewn about, pictures were broken. The front door had been obliterated. So what the fuck happened to the bodies and the blood?
Maybe their comrades came back for them when Melanie took Jessie outside?
Unlikely, but at least he had one less thing to worry about.
He told Melanie to get some trash bags and he had Jessie go and get the broom and dustpan. The place could be put straight in less than an hour. He called up one of his followers, a handyman by trade, and asked him what it would cost to have a brand new front door put on his house ASAP. The guy told him to keep his money and said he'd be over in twenty minutes to take measurements. Lucifer hung up and called another follower. He said, "There's some kind of white ashy residue on the floor in the church. Would you mind stopping in later to clean it up?"
Of course the guy didn't mind. He was elated to have received a personal call from his pastor.
Lucifer smiled to himself. There had been no irreparable damage done from the attacks and he'd gotten a chance to flex out his powers.
This had been a good day.
Joy Ride
Jack's hoof kept slipping off of the accelerator and it was pissing him off. At one point the hyena started to laugh at him so he reached into the back seat and clobbered it on the head. The pig snorted its amusement.
Shelly just stared out the window, wondering when some unfortunate angel would pick up her scent and give chase. She hated the idea that she was live bait, but she hated the idea of being raped more, so que sera sera.
She looked at Jack as he drove. He had an intensity to him she couldn't quite wrap her mind around. He was a man on a mission.
His horn wounds seemed to be healing up, no doubt from all the webbing Dick-eyes was covering them with, and she'd swear his ruddy skin tone was beginning to lighten, the mottled black blotches clearing up too. He still wore the ridiculous outfit and the cowboy hat, but that just endeared him to her.
Finally Jack pulled over onto the gravel and said to her, "You fucking drive. I can't take this anymore"
She knew he was just mad about his hooves so she didn't take offense at his outburst.
They got out and switched places.
They'd been driving around for hours already and hadn't come across a single angel. It was quickly becoming apparent to her that this was to be a marathon rather than a sprint. But she didn't think Jack had the patience to deal with the pace of it. He was getting restless.
To try and alleviate his anxiety she started to ask him questions.
"Hey Devil boy, how old are you?"
"Concentrate on the damn road."
"Come on, I'm going to guess you're in your early thirties. Is that close?"
"Shut up girl."
"What's your favorite color?"
He looked out his window defiantly.
"Favorite food then?"
He reached into the backseat and grabbed the cat, Prozac. For just a second she was afraid he was going to toss it out the window to shut her up, but instead he dropped it in her lap.
She felt that serene calm wash over her again.
She had thought Jack was the one tightly wound, but it turned out he was fine. She was the one who needed to relax and the cat gave her what she needed.
"Sorry Jack."
"No problem."
"So what's the plan? Are we just going to keep driving around Wisconsin, hoping beyond reason that we get lucky?"
"You're right. This is like watching paint dry. Let's change tack. I have something a little outside the scope of our plans I'd like to do since we're so close by."
"What's that?"
I 'd love to go and kill this guy in Illinois. Want to help me?"
"Not really. What did the guy do to you?"
"He murdered an old high school girlfriend of mine. Last year Lucifer told me about him. He said he's a local realtor and he golf's on the weekends, and my stay here is limited so why not make the most of it, right? Plus, if Lucifer knew of him, then maybe he knows something about Lucifer and his whereabouts."
She knew he'd added the last part to convince himself he wasn't just a bloodthirsty demon, but a man with a reasonable agenda that could pay off.
She shook her head. She didn't want someone's death on her hands, but then the cat nuzzled against her neck so she said, "Sounds good to me."
Jack said into the rearview mirror, "Dick-eyes, see if you can find out where the bastard's hiding."
Dick-eyes did not look pleased about it, probably because it deviated so far from the original plan, but Jack glared at the spider and after a few seconds it seemed to relent.
Aftermath
Lucifer watched Jessie through his open bedroom door. The boy was hiding something but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it could be. He assumed the boy was basically worthless now that he'd fulfilled his requirement; that is, help Lucifer escape the clutches of hell (even though the boy wasn't aware that the plan had actually worked).
But the child still had a link to hell-side and he was somehow still able to allow low level hell spawn to pass over to this side. That should have been impossible.
The only reason he was able to do it last year was because Lucifer willed him to do it from hell. The boy was born special but his gift should have withered and died when it was no longer useful.
Lucifer had passed this niggling curiosity off as some type of aftereffect but something about it didn't ring true. He understood so little about the ritual that allowed him to escape. But it seemed counterintuitive that Jessie would still have access to hell when it was not a necessity now, nor would it ever be again.
He watched the frail child's chest rise and fall. He wanted to just walk in the room, grab the boy by his neck, and force him to spill the beans.
But that would be inappropriate. The last thing he wanted to do was to draw unwanted attention his way. He hated hiding his true self but it had become
a necessary requirement to ensure he wasn't returned or obliterated by his jailor.
He went into the living room and sat beside Melanie. He hated this part. She needed to be comforted, and he sucked at faking compassion. Luckily the handyman peeked his head around the corner and said, "All set folks."
Lucifer quickly got up and cuffed a few hundred dollar bills in his hand. The guy tried to refuse it but he eventually gave up and said his goodbyes.
The events of today had made one thing crystal clear: He had to hurry his plans up because he couldn't possibly keep every little thing under control. Things had to escalate quickly.
Fore!
Shelly stayed in the car. They were at a golf course near the Illinois border. Even though it had snowed just days before, being April in Wisconsin, it was now warm enough to catch nine holes.
Jack and the monsters had emptied out of the car already and were marching down the fairway like an army straight out of a nightmare. Shelly considered dashing into the bar and grabbing a few road beers but she thought better of it; what if they had to make a quick getaway and she was inside, getting change or getting hit on by a barfly?
She squinted to try and see what was going on. The monsters had all stopped and there was a small figure of a man among them now. She couldn't see from this distance but she would bet good money that he was pissing himself.
Jack might not get a chance to kill the guy if he had a heart attack first.
She sighed and wondered, not for the first time, how her life had come to this.
Birdie
Jack knew the fucker when he saw him. He didn't actually know him in person, he could just sense the evil lurking inside his otherwise ordinary body, despite the fact that the guy was in his early forties and wearing plaid pants and shiny white golf shoes.
The dude was so busy lining up his shot he didn't see them until they were right on top of him.