End of Days: The Complete Trilogy (Books 1-3)

by Meg Collett

  She dived away from the whizzing arrow, but it grazed her arm. The pain was fleeting and quickly forgotten. Stunned, she watched the horse jump over the wall and dive down toward Earth. A small drop of blood fell from the wound.

  Abel cracked another seal.

  A great wind stirred across Purgatory, buffeting into Michaela. Tiny bits of sand and dirt stung her eyes. From its depth came a red horse with fire in its wild eyes and a skeletal rider hunched on its back. The horse threw its head and screamed. The horrible sound twisted into Michaela’s ears, piercing and painful. Abel bent to pick up another seal as the red horse leaped over Michaela’s crouched form and into space.

  “No, Abel! Stop!” But he cracked another. “You’re crazy!” Michaela screeched, her voice breaking. Her words were the truth. Abel’s eyes were dilated as if destruction were his drug of choice. “This is insane!”

  From beneath Michaela, came a great rumble. She scrambled backward away from the wall as the ground rose, and a black horse pawed its way free. The horse slung its mane and pranced as its rider shook dirt from its armor. With a great kick, the rider sent the horse over the wall.

  The sound of Abel cracking the fourth scroll was overpowered by the screams of billions of souls on Earth. On hands and knees, Michaela squinted through the dust. Heaven’s gates opened, and through them came the last and final horseman riding the pale horse. The scent of decay suffocated her as the horseman and horse walked closer, taking their time.

  Death hurried for no one.

  Death pulled his horse up next to Michaela and stared down at her. There was nothing but dark shadows inside the rider’s hood. Its voice was an echo across Purgatory.

  “Do you see me now, Michaela? I am always watching you, waiting for you. Soon, I will come for you.”

  A shuddering began deep within Michaela. It wracked her bones until they ached, spanning into the reach of her fingertips. Her entire body convulsed, causing her teeth to snap together before she clenched her jaw tightly shut. Tears left raw streaks through the dust on her face. She whimpered, the sound weak and desperate.

  The pale horse stepped onto the wall, and like a bird, sailed into the air.

  She should take the seals from Abel. She should fight. She should do something.

  But she could do nothing.

  Abel cracked two more seals in quick succession like he was eager to get on with the show. But the End of Days was not meant to be a show. It was meant to be a time of mourning and great sadness. The end of the greatest creation, greater than Michaela and all the angels, was a death like none other. As General, Michaela had dreaded the moment she would be required to break the seals, but Abel handled the task with relish.

  Sniffling, Michaela looked down to Earth. The ground trembled. Huge plates of land rocked and heaved against each other, like waves on dry land. The massive sinkholes ate buildings, mountains, entire cities. Hundreds of people scrambled and slid, cascading into the gaping holes. Waves the size of skyscrapers built across the seas and slammed into shores, sending rushing water across whole continents.

  Abel cracked the sixth seal and Michaela flinched. The sun turned black. The moon turned red. The air shuddered below Michaela as stars fell. They rocketed into Earth as huge balls of fire, creating great holes in the ground that sucked everything into their dark depths to the sound of rushing, crumbling rock.

  And from the great pits came masses of demons like a black fog swept up from the holes. Their eyes were blazing red, and their mouths stretched open, revealing a black void darker than the pits of Hell. They crawled on all fours, creeping across the ground, killing and eating the few humans who’d survived. They howled like dogs and screamed like women. The sound curdled Michaela’s blood and drenched her in sweat. These were demons she had never seen before. When they raised their distorted heads to Heaven, Michaela jerked away from the wall.

  Crack.

  Abel dropped the seventh seal to the ground. It rolled toward where Michaela crouched beside the wall, stopping at the toe of her boot, twisted and ruined. She couldn’t force her eyes to look away. That was it. That was the end lying beside her boot. Abel laughed a keening, insane laugh that doubled him over until he clutched the wall for support. Michaela turned away from him and buried her head in her hands, choking on the sobs tearing from her throat.

  She sat there for a while before updrafts of cool air came from below Purgatory, stirring across her hair; the softer strands tickled over the sensitive skin on her neck. Michaela immediately recognized the whooshing wind, although she didn’t lift her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and begged to wake up.

  Then she smelled the sulfur.

  Thousands of wings filled the space above Michaela’s shivering body. Even with her eyes closed, they cast a great shadow. The sound of their flapping was deafening, like a great train roaring above her head. A creeping, chilling thought came to Michaela. Her eyes reared open. The fallen came for the Great War in Heaven.

  The angels continued to fly over Michaela, giving her a horrible sense of déjà vu as they surged toward Heaven’s wall. She stood up next to Abel, who had lines forming deep in the skin between his brows. He did not understand what it meant to serve as Heaven’s General. He had no clue what the final war in Heaven would entail. He was a naïve, power-hungry angel who had sat on benches and judged souls until he thought himself worthy to judge all. Michaela hated him, and if she could, she would have killed him right then.

  Heaven’s gates opened, and holy angels poured out in their best battle armor with swords raised high. She wanted to warn them, but it was too late. It was always too late. The angels crashed together with a deafening clash of metal.

  No more tears came. She was empty, wrung dry, and used up.

  But then the ground beneath her feet rolled. Startled, she reached for a handhold. With another glance over the wall, she confirmed her fears. Earth was crumbling. It was like a ball slowly deflating far below her. A huge chunk chipped away and floated into the atmosphere, revealing the fiery molten pits of the Earth’s core.

  With a low, resounding groan, Purgatory’s floor slanted dangerously. Michaela clutched the wall for support. Her nails clawed at the marble until they bent backward and broke. Her heart raced; her breathing came in pants. She heard a horrible sucking noise from the middle of Purgatory.

  Dirt was racing across the ground, flowing toward a widening pit in Purgatory’s floor. Michaela screamed as Heaven’s gates folded and collapsed, the metal twisting and screaming in protest. The holy and fallen angels fought unaware of the destruction around them. It was the end of the world, but it was taking Heaven and Hell with it.

  This wasn’t just the end of the world. This was the end of everything.

  The end. The end. The end.

  “Stop!” Michaela screamed, her voice merely a weak rasp. “Stop! Look!”

  No one listened. On Earth, there wasn’t much left to look at. It gave one last shudder and imploded. Michaela watched, mouth gaping, as the once glorious planet turned into an inferno.

  The ground gave way in a rush. She clung to pieces of the wall as she tipped into the empty space below. Alongside her, Abel screamed and cried for forgiveness as the angels he had damned and the Heaven he had ruined crashed down around them. They fell through the toxic sky toward a fire that already blistered Michaela’s face.

  32

  Michaela woke screaming. Clark hunched beside her, pressing his hand to her mouth. She fought for a second before she recognized the pink hair and fierce blue eyes above her. She stilled. Sweat ran down her face, soaking her shirt and the cot. Clark released his grip on her face.

  “Are you crazy?” he sputtered. “You could wake the dead screaming like that!”

  Michaela sat up shakily. “Sorry.” Her eyes settled on her arm, where a shallow gash stretched across her bicep. The blood was dried, but the wound was recent.

  “What happened there?” Clark asked, worried.

  “I had a vision.�
�

  “A vision gave you a cut? What was it about?” Clark took her arm and inspected her cut. When he looked at her again, his aqua eyes were wide, his long lashes matted from sleep. He set his jaw in a way that reminded her of Gabriel. He would die too if her dream became reality. Everyone would.

  “The end of the world,” Michaela answered. She drew in a deep breath, covering the cut with her other hand. Clark sank onto the cot with her and pulled her into his side. Michaela relaxed against him.

  “Fantastic. That’s awesome really. I’ve always wondered what that would be like.”

  “Clark,” Michaela said. “I’m serious.”

  Clark sighed. “I know.” He wrapped his arm farther around her body. “Maybe it was just a bad dream. A dream that cuts you…”

  “It wasn’t just Earth that collapsed, but Heaven and Hell too. It was like they were all tied together, when one went so did the others. Everyone would die,” she whispered.

  “Is that normal?” Clark asked, confused. “I thought during the apocalypse, only the world ended, but Heaven and Hell would be fine, right?”

  “Not the way I saw it in my dream,” Michaela answered.

  “This wasn’t, like, tomorrow or anything, right?”

  Michaela shook her head, and Clark exhaled in relief. “Abel had the Seven Seals, which will take him a while to acquire. Those scrolls are the only way to end the world. You have to break them apart individually and in a certain order. Only…”

  “What?” Clark asked.

  “Only I don’t think Abel understands that by destroying Earth, he will destroy Heaven too—and himself,” Michaela answered.

  “Are you certain he doesn’t know about the seals’ power?”

  Michaela shook her head. “I’m sure, because I didn’t know. We all thought the seals would end Earth and the humans’ time on it. No one could know breaking the seals would end Heaven and Hell too.”

  “Why would he even want to end the world? Does he hate the humans that much?”

  “I think he does,” Michaela said. “He wants purity. Perfection. By ending Earth, he cleanses Heaven. There won’t be any more impure souls to judge.”

  “But there won’t be anyone.” Clark shuddered. “There’s still a chance it wasn’t real.”

  “It was real.” Michaela shuddered, and Clark held her tighter. “It’s going to happen.”

  “Okay,” Clark said. He tried to sound strong. “Is there anything we can do?”

  With a deep breath, Michaela stood from the cot and faced Clark, who looked at her expectantly. She had a plan.

  “We have to end Abel’s reign. We have to show everyone who he really is before it’s too late. If we can prove what he has done, the holy angels will cast him out.”

  “Then he can’t end of the world if he isn’t General,” Clark added.

  “Exactly.”

  Clark’s father met them at the tunnel’s exit a few hours after the sun had set. Clark and Michaela climbed through the fruit stand and into the cab of the truck. The ride back to the toolshed was long and bouncy, but Michaela felt better with each mile they put between them and the compound. Her dream had lifted the fog in her head, and for the first time she could see clearly.

  A week had been too long. Michaela should have left the moment she saw Zarachiel and knew what Abel was capable of. A true holy angel would never desecrate an innocent angel’s body like Abel had done to Zarachiel, which meant Abel would stop at nothing to achieve his Purification. She recalled the manic excitement and joy she had seen on his face as he watched Earth burn. His fever for a pure Heaven was growing, building, and consuming him. If he wanted to break the Seven Seals, he had to have gone mad.

  “Here we are,” Isaac said a while later. He stopped the truck beside Clark’s Chevelle.

  They made quick work of unloading the gear. Isaac gave them more food and water. And a large bag of weapons that made Michaela’s eyes gleam. Isaac handed Clark a wad of money too.

  When the car was loaded, Michaela shook Isaac’s hand. “Thank you, Isaac. I appreciate your help.” She smiled at Clark’s father, who seemed to melt a little. His hard, leathered face softened.

  “Of course, Michaela. I always believed in you.” He squeezed her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the soft skin. “I just couldn’t put the Descendants in jeopardy by sending them to help you after you fell.”

  “I understand, Isaac,” Michaela said. She hugged him, which surprised them both.

  Blushing, Isaac cleared his throat. “Well, anyway, you’re in good hands.” Michaela nodded and slid into the passenger seat, her eyes drifting to the side mirror.

  Instead of saying anything, Isaac pulled Clark into a tight hug. Clark wrapped his arms around his father and hugged the man back. The sight made Michaela smile.

  When Isaac drew back, Clark’s eyes watered slightly, and he quickly turned away. His throat was tight, but he managed, “Thank you, Dad.”

  “I love you, Clark.”

  Clark only nodded and walked to the car like he didn’t trust himself to respond. Before he opened the door, Isaac said, “Your mother would be proud.”

  Clark’s head jerked up. Isaac was smiling. “I know,” Clark said.

  Clark settled into the car. With a deep breath, he turned the engine over. He took one last look in the rearview mirror where his father stood watching before he pulled away.

  They bumped along the farm road for a bit before he turned onto the small two-lane road, heading away from the Descendants’ compound.

  “That was touching,” Michaela said.

  Clark grunted. He fiddled with the radio dials.

  “Are you okay to drive? Do you want me to?” Michaela asked. She was already smiling, because she knew the answer.

  “Hell no.”

  ***

  The shower’s water slowly turned to ice as Michaela stood beneath its stream. The shampoo and soap long since washed away. When she got in thirty minutes ago, the water had been scorching and her thoughts had been on Gabriel. It was ice now, and she didn’t feel anything, standing naked and shivering as she watched the water swirl down the mildewed drain. She was still thinking about Gabriel.

  Michaela got out of the shower and wrapped a towel tightly around her until she felt warm enough to dress. She pulled on a different pair of ragged jeans. Her foot went through a hole in the knee, causing it to rip even farther. She cuffed the sleeves of a worn Jimi Hendrix shirt and shoved them up past her elbows.

  Clark sat up in bed when Michaela came out of the bathroom. A slight shadow of a beard sprouted on his youthful face. His eyes were bloodshot; the skin underneath was swollen and dark. He had driven straight from Kentucky to Charleston. When they had finally picked a motel next to the Ashley River early this morning, he had fallen into bed, exhausted. He hadn’t even snored.

  “You look awful,” Michaela commented.

  Clark raked his hands across his face. Michaela toweled her hair dry then pulled on her boots. She tucked her hair through the back of a ball cap. Clark regarded her with squinted eyes.

  “It’s too early for stealth mode,” he said, grumbling.

  “It’s the opposite of early.” Michaela turned on the lights. “You’ve been sleeping all day.”

  “Ouch.” Clark shielded his eyes. “Are you feeling okay? How’s your arm?”

  She shrugged. “Fine.” Michaela sat on the edge of the dresser and chewed on her fingernails. Her feet jigged frantically.

  “Super duper.” Clark groaned into his hands.

  “Did you not sleep that well?” Michaela asked.

  Clark yawned; his jaw popped with the effort. “Like a baby,” he said. “I just need about twenty more hours, and I should start to feel normal.”

  “I offered to drive some.”

  “I was fine.”

  “Oh, well in that case, get up.” Michaela slapped his leg eagerly. “Get ready and let’s go.”

  Clark collapsed back onto the bed. “Go
where?”

  Confused, Michaela said, “To find the place Cassie is working?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Clark sighed heavily. He sat back up on the bed and grabbed his phone off the bedside table. “This isn’t the 90’s. You should go find coffee, and I’ll Google research facilities and hospitals around here with an angel in their logo.” He burrowed farther down in bed to emphasize his point. His phone’s screen lit his face blue in the dim lighting.

  “Google?” Michaela asked.

  “It’s a human thing.” Clark’s voice sounded muffled. “But seriously, coffee.”

  When Michaela returned with a large thermos of coffee from the lobby, Clark was still in bed. She opened her mouth to yell when he waved the phone at her. She didn’t see the screen, but Clark had a cocky smirk on his face, which told her all she needed to know.

  “Sometimes I’m so good I impress myself. Did you bring sugar?”

  33

  “Wow,” Clark said in awe. “It’s bigger in person.”

  They stood across the street gawking at the mammoth building. With all the glass and complicated angles set against the night sky, the effect was similar to a modern castle. According to Clark’s Google research, it was a multi-billion dollar medical research facility that was in the news almost weekly.

  “Did you check the address?” Michaela asked. She had never seen the fallen work out of a place so public. Something like dread curled in her stomach. Clark only nodded as he was still too busy gawking.

  “Any great ideas?” Clark asked after another few minutes of silence.

  Michaela turned back at the building, ignoring Clark. She counted ten stories, all of which were hidden behind tinted glass. Whatever the fallen did here, they had access to some of the top scientists, research data, and equipment. The more Michaela thought about it, the more she figured Lucifer was probably the one who owned the company, which meant getting in wasn’t going to be their biggest problem.