“Climb onto my back now, Sasha. We're getting out of here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Raimond had a dream that he was swimming in the ocean. Beth stood on the beach, and in this dream, she had both of her legs. She held a child in her arms, and he knew that the child was his dead son, exactly as he remembered from when he was a baby. Beth looked so beautiful on the golden sand. She waved at him, and he smiled back at her. He tried to swim his way back to shore, but the harder he swam, the greater the distance became. The beach retreated away from him and disappeared like a mirage, leaving him stranded out at sea with nothing but sharks that were intent on killing him.
Raimond awoke in a sweat. Before he could process the meaning of his dream, he noticed something odd. His sheets were wet. He looked about the room and saw that he really was out at sea, and that sea was rising all about him.
“Beth, wake up.”
Raimond shook her roughly by the shoulders.
“What's your problem?” she asked with the sleep still on her voice. She felt the water on her skin and sat bolt upright. She was suddenly wide awake.
“We have to get out of here,” said Raimond as he jumped into the water. It was already up to his waist. He didn't have time to grab much, but he made sure to grab his knives. His gun was lost, somewhere under the water. Beth threw on a shirt and joined Raimond as he opened a window to the outside world.
“It's everywhere,” said Beth in disbelief.
“Keep moving,” Raimond urged.
Beth was first through the window but struggled to climb up to the roof with the use of only one leg.
“Wait, I'll help you,” said Raimond as he climbed through and pulled himself up onto the roof. He reached down and took a firm hold of Beth’s arm to hoist her up beside him. Beth looked about and saw the death of everything she knew. The community she had worked so hard to build was helplessly drowning before her eyes.
“This isn't fair,” she said, her voice almost breaking.
“Nothing in this world is fair,” said Raimond. “But we ain't dead yet, and that's all the fair we're going to get. Stay with me now.”
“Beth! Over here!” It was Nancy. She had made it to a rooftop a few buildings over along with Nate Russo and Wally Walters. Beth’s heart leapt to see her alive and well.
“I need to get over there and be with the others,” Beth said to Raimond. Raimond looked at the gaps that separated the groups.
“I'll have to carry you,” he said.
“Do you think you can?”
“I have to, so I will. Don't go getting used to the idea though.”
“Such a gentleman.”
Raimond moved to pick Beth up but was distracted by the sound of gunfire. He turned back towards where Nancy's group stood. Nate Russo took a bullet to the head and fell into the water dead. A large man that the Heirs of Salvation knew as Burt Walker was charging the group’s position. Burt jumped the last of the gaps that separated them, and Wally Walters tried to tackle him with his frail, old body. Burt blew Wally's head off before he even moved two feet. Nancy went to her knees and begged for her life. Burt was amused, but not moved to compassion. He holstered his gun and instead readied his baseball bat. It had nails protruding from the wood. He lined it up with Nancy’s head and took a practice swing, stopping it an inch from her face as she started to cry.
“Shhh,” he said to her before he finally swung. Nancy was bludgeoned and penetrated simultaneously. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he forcibly yanked the bat back out of her skull with a sickening rip. Her lifeless body dropped, and a camera that she was holding bounced on the tiles and stopped at Burt’s feet with a flash. Burt laughed as he picked the camera up and took a photo of Nancy’s dead body. One last image for Nancy’s history project. Beth wailed as she watched it all happen from a distance. Raimond readied his knives and looked down towards Beth for approval.
“Kill that son of a bitch!”
Raimond was already jumping before Beth even finished the sentence. He cleared one house, and then another, and then he was there. As he crossed the last gap, he threw one of his knives at Burt. It cut the air and went straight for the centre of his forehead, but Burt saw it coming and knocked it back towards Raimond with his baseball bat. Raimond landed on the tiles with a limbo skid just to narrowly avoid getting stabbed with his own knife. Burt swung the bat for Raimond's head, but Raimond rolled to the side and cut the back of Burt's ankle with his remaining knife. Burt grunted with pain and fell to one knee. He tried to raise his baseball bat, but Raimond stabbed him right through the arm. Burt dropped the bat, and Raimond picked it up, looking intently at the nails embedded within.
“Your people flooded the hospital and probably killed everyone that was inside. You killed someone whose life belonged to me, and now I need someone to take his place.”
Raimond swung the bat like he was hammering a railroad spike and embedded the nails deep into Burt’s skull. Burt fell to the tiles in a spasm as Raimond stood over him like a dark shadow.
“If you live, I’ll come back for you. You better hope that you don’t live.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Karina Katana kept a gun under her pillow in case of emergencies. When the flood hit, she pounced like a cat onto the rooftops without her signature body paint. For many in New Sodom, it was the first time they had ever seen her without paint, but the plain skinned Karina was the least of their concerns. Karina took the first helicopter douchebag by surprise. He thought that he had gotten the drop on her, but he was the one that ate a bullet through the nose. She flanked another one of them shortly after, blowing out his brains from behind his ear. The woman that he was about to kill was extremely grateful. Karina pressed on until she found Princess isolated and under fire. Princess hid behind a pillar on the roof as the rat-a-tat of a machine gun from the next building over exploded the concrete all around her. Karina took careful aim at the assailant. She put a bullet in one knee cap, and then the other. As he dropped, she hit the moving target of his head and finished the job. She jumped her way over to Princess and Princess took one look at Karina without her trademark paint.
“Damn girl, is that what you look like?”
“You don't look so great yourself.”
Princess' make up was smeared across her face. Her wig was missing, but its cap was still in place.
“Cold, honey. That's cold. Right after my bar’s been put out of business too.”
“Well, you can help me put some of these assholes out of business if you like.”
Their eyes were drawn to a group of Sodomites on a rooftop in the distance. The minigun from the helicopter savagely mowed them down before they could get out of its path.
“We should probably do something about that helicopter first. It won’t be long before it spots us,” said Karina.
“You leave that part to me,” said Princess. “I have something in mind for that piece of shit up in the sky. You go and help the others. Kill as many of those pricks as you can.”
Karina took Princess at her word and started moving to take out the last of the men on the rooftops. Princess went in the opposite direction and made a move for a rooftop weapons stash that had some sandbags for cover. When she got there, she found just the thing she was looking for. Princess smiled as she opened up a steel box and pulled out a new toy to play with. She had been dying to get her hands on it from the moment she first laid eyes on it. It was her very own rocket launcher with one round of ammunition.
Princess set everything up as quickly as she could and hoisted the rocket launcher onto her shoulder, taking aim at the helicopter that hovered many feet above. With a pull of the trigger, the rocket soared with a whush and headed in a straight line for the helicopter. The minigun ceased fire as Jacob spotted the approaching doom. He dived from the open helicopter door and splashed into the water dozens of feet below. The pilot was not so fortunate. The explosion took him and the helicopter both. As Princess watched the ball of
fire rain debris down onto New Sodom, she saw Jacob pull himself out of the water and onto a rooftop close by.
“Oh, no you don't, motherfucker.”
Princess ditched the now useless rocket launcher and closed the distance on foot. She hit the roof at a run and charged at Jacob, who barely had enough time to get his wits. He took a strong right hook to the jaw but got his arms up to block the follow up left. Jacob kicked Princess in the chest and backed her up a few feet. He laughed as he looked her up and down.
“You're an abomination.”
Princess roared and went back to her training as she unleashed a combination of punches and kicks at Jacob. He was quicker than she anticipated. Most of her attacks were blocked, and the ones that weren’t blocked were because he made her miss instead. Jacob retaliated and hit Princess with a precise punch to the liver. She shelled up and backed away from him.
“Hurts, doesn't it? When I send you to Hell, you can suck dick with all the other faggots. That’s if they don't burn your cock off first.”
Princess regrouped and found a second wind.
“You ready for round two?” Jacob teased.
Princess took a more measured approach on the second attempt, careful not to overextend herself. She kept her guard tight as she probed Jacob’s defences with a piston-like jab. Jacob laughed as he effortlessly bobbed and weaved.
“Not bad for a bitch. Now hit me like a man.”
Princess doubled up on the right jab and came over the top with a left punch straight to the nose. Jacob backed up and touched at his bloodied nostril in surprise. Princess did not give him a chance to get over his shock. She hit him to the body, putting the wind out of his sails, and cracked him in the temple with a hard elbow. Jacob dropped to his knees.
“Fuck the man,” said Princess. “The bitch is back.”
Princess unloaded with the mother of all combinations. Jacob's head jerked left and right as furious fists impacted against his skull. Princess landed with a ferocious uppercut, and Jacob was lifted up and sent crashing onto the roof tiles. Princess threw herself on top of him, looking to finish the job, but Jacob still had some fight left in him. He drew a knife and tried to stab Princess with it as she closed in, but Princess grabbed hold of his wrist, and they struggled for dominance as they pushed the blade towards each other. Princess pushed the blade down towards Jacob’s face until the point of it was a hair away from piercing his eye. They were both thick with sweat as they put everything they had into pushing that knife. Jacob found a desperate reserve of strength as he managed to lift the blade an inch and turn the point away from him. He used the opening to fire up a headbutt and catch Princess by surprise. Her grip on the knife loosened, and Jacob took full advantage. He turned that knife around and buried it deep into her gut. Princess grunted and backed up onto her knees with the knife still buried inside of her. Jacob dragged himself up to his knees to face her. His face was a mountain range of high rising hematoma's, but still, he smiled at his final victory over the abomination. Princess looked down at the knife that had penetrated her and shook her head in disgust.
“Shit. I think I need a drink.”
Jacob twisted the knife and shredded her insides like a blender. Remy Laveau saw it all happen from the vantage of another roof. He wanted to cry out, but the words would not leave his mouth. He was too late to do anything that could save her. He watched Princess as her body slumped down onto the tiles, and he could watch no more. He moved with a murderous fury, his eyes focused on Jacob. Jacob could feel the hot gaze of approaching death on his back and turned to face it. With great effort, he got to his feet and spread his arms out wide to welcome whatever Remy could throw at him. Remy drew his rapier and ran it straight through Jacob’s exposed gut. Jacob embraced it, walking further onto the blade and his death, blood spurting from his mouth with every step. He raised his dying hand and caressed Remy's cheek with an almost serene look on his face.
“Daniel Blanc waits for you at the end of the world. You will find him at the Superdome.”
The arm fell limp, and the head lolled to the side. Remy retracted the blade, and the body fell to the tiles. Remy immediately went to Princess' side. Her death was close. The survivors of the flood started to congregate but gave Remy his space. They watched from far away rooftops as Remy cradled his lover with tears in his eyes.
“I love you,” he said as he gave Princess her final kiss. “I always did.”
Princess’ eyes were unfocused, but her lips formed a smile right before the cold hand of death took her from this life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
One by one the survivors of the flood reached the safety of dry land, helping each other all the way while maintaining an abject and mournful silence. Where once they numbered at 1,300, there was now closer to 200. Many were severely injured and still at risk of not seeing out the day without the help of medical professionals. Their only doctor had perished in the flood, leaving amateurs in charge of seeing to the well-being of the sick and the dying. They all had lost dear friends and family this day and wore the look of defeat and sorrow upon their faces.
Remy Laveau sat with his back pressed up against an old oak tree. He held his still bloodied rapier out in front of him and stared vacantly at the red steel. His mind was a thousand miles away, lost in memories of a past that would never return. Beth approached him, using Raimond's shoulder as support. Her face bore the same drained sadness that was visible on all of the others.
“It's a trap, you know. They've chosen a battlefield for us to die on.”
“The man still has to go,” said Raimond as Remy remained silent.
“Why?”
“Something like this has to be answered. We are in this until the end whether we like it or not.”
“Until there is no one left on either side? No, I don't agree with that at all. We have been playing this game for a while, and we keep on losing. It’s time to take ourselves off the board and try something else. Screw the macho bullshit. New Sodom is lost, but we can go far away from here and start over. The sky didn't fall down. They hit us with their best shot, but we're still here. We are still a community, and we can help end this madness by refusing to take part. We can bring the world back from the brink, but not if we're dead.”
“Are you saying that we should run and hide?” said Raimond. “Live with the fact that we suffered this day and did nothing? That we forget all about the people that died today. Forget about Nancy.”
Beth looked wounded at the use of Nancy's name. She channelled some of her inner strength and kept herself together as she looked Raimond in the eyes.
“I'm saying that we should survive. If that means running, then we run.”
Remy got to his feet, and they both looked towards him. He continued to look down at his rapier as the blood dripped onto the grass. He sighed wearily and sheathed the sword back into his cane. Beth nodded her approval at what she thought was a gesture of peace.
“I'm glad you've seen sense,” she said.
Remy looked up as if only noticing she was there for the first time. He laughed, and the unnatural sound of the laughter disturbed all who heard it.
“Sense? What is that? There is no sense to be found here. All I've seen is hatred, and now that is all that I have.”
“That's not true, Remy. You have so much more to give this world than your hate. Let's leave this place and its hatred behind. You'll see that it's true. You just need time to heal. We all do.”
“You don't understand, Beth. Hate is the only thing that's keeping me standing. There is no healing what's inside me. No healing for any of us. The world is what it is, and we must be what it has made us. There is no point in pretending anymore.”
Remy stepped away from her and moved to address the survivors of the flood. Beth reached out and grabbed his arm as he passed. Remy did not pull his arm away. He gave her a blank look and waited to see what came next.
“Let him go, ma chérie,” said Raimond. “If we ran, we woul
d just run out of road.”
Beth reluctantly let go of Remy's arm and watched as he used a grassy hill as his stage. He did not command it as he usually did.
“It is not enough to survive,” he told the survivors as they gathered in front of him. “We must also be able to live with ourselves. We could start over. That much is true. We could find a new place and build new walls. We could bury our loved ones and be a community again. I would like nothing more. But how long until the wolves come knocking on our door? The end of the world comes not from God, but from man, and man is more dangerous and more powerful than any coward that hides behind clouds. Men will keep knocking until the end of the world is a certain fact. We can hide behind our walls and wait for them to call and repeat the events that happened today, or we can go and knock on their door instead. Let us be the end of their world, for we are also men, we are also women, and we are also powerful.
“Some will die, that is for sure, but let us choose how we die. Don't have it said that we didn't die well or without cause. I aim to make one last desperate strike to reclaim my life and my future, and I want you all to join me. Reclaim your lives. Let it be us that decides our fate. We do not need the crutch of a holy book because we have each other and together we are stronger than the false words of men who have been dead for thousands of years.
“I am heading for the Superdome with raised fists, and I am going to give them every last bit of fight that I have left in me. You can follow and maybe live, or you can run and certainly die. The choice is yours, and I will not make it for you.”
Killing Angels Page 21