As I get closer I notice the bars protruding through the top with large nuts and washers holding the plate in place. Not exactly the type of security that I’ve come to expect from these things, but I’m not about to complain.
Without a wrench, I loosen the nuts the best I can using my hands. It is slow, painful work, but I’m making progress. Within a few minutes I have one nut off, followed by another two minutes later.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I hear when I’m halfway through the third.
I turn around to see two large men behind me. One is big and tall, almost built like an NFL linebacker if it wasn’t for the spare tire he’s hiding under his shirt. The other one, is almost a perfect contrast. Short and skinny with a variety of piercings throughout his face and ears.
I decide not to speak, knowing they won’t care for my answer anyways. Instead, rushing forward to meet the two in melee. Wanting to take out the weakest target first I head for Pierce, swinging my sword at his head. He dodges the blow with a burst of speed I expected out of a man his size. What I didn’t expect was his strength. The moment my blade passes over his head, missing him by nearly a foot, he thrusts his fist into my gut, sending me flying into the street behind me. Before I even stand up, Linebacker rushes forward lining up his field goal attempt with my skull.
I roll out of his path, swinging my sword in a low arc, slicing off his foot. Pierce doesn’t give me a chance to revel in my victory, however, as he knocks me back to the ground with a vicious clothesline.
“Once I’m finished with you, I’m going to hang your body from the front gates as a reminder of what happens to those who attack us.”
Before giving me a chance to give him a witty reply he grabs me by the throat, lifting me a few feet off the ground. I try to kick and claw my way free, but without any luck. After a few seconds my body gives in to the lack of oxygen, reducing what little effect my blows had on him.
With a last ditch effort, I place my hands on his head. Sensing my resistance he rewards me with a quick thrust to my gut with his freehand, stopping any chance I had at completing my exorcism.
“Time to die,” he says, cackling maniacally.
I open my eyes to take one last look at the world when the end of a sword juts out of Pierce’s mouth. With one swift twist, the blade decapitates the man, sending the top half of his head to the ground. I gasp, noticing the one responsible.
Azrael.
After a few seconds the body finally catches onto the fact the head is no longer in charge and it drops to the ground, releasing me in the process.
“You looked like you needed a hand,” Azrael says, wearing the same deep brown hoodie as the last time I saw him.
“What are you doing back?” I say, rubbing my neck.
“We’ll talk later,” he says moments before running down the street and into the action, leaving me sitting on the pavement to contemplate the ass whooping I just received.
- 3 -
“Go take care of someone who really needs it,” I say to the nurse sent over to look me over. From her appearance I can tell she loves her line of work, but there is an aura of authority that radiates from her that frankly scares me.
She points her finger about two inches from my nose. “You will sit your butt down on that table, Mitchell Butler, and do as you are told.”
I gasp, but keep my mouth shut as I don’t care to test her wrath. She takes her time as she looks me over, pressing any spot that looks remotely bruised until she gets a reaction out of me. The type of thing my mother used to do as a kid. She was the worrying type and I was her blood, so it made sense. Coming from this woman is almost frightening.
“You don’t look that bad,” she says, turning around. “But you need to take it easy for a few days.”
As much as I want to take her advice, I don’t have a few days to relax. Until I get Sara back, the only way I’m taking any time off is if my body physically shuts down.
I refrain from telling her that however as she would just reward that remark with an IV drop with some sleeping medicine.
“Mind some company?” Nal asks entering the room.
“Come on in,” I say, scooting over to make room on the bed.
“You aren’t going to believe this, but the men found three more orbs across the compound. All set up like the one you went after.”
“Wow, so we have all four?”
He shakes his head. “We got two. The one you saved and one more. They escaped with the other two.”
“How?” I ask. “Stevens was supposed to have the other side covered.”
“He did. But it’s hard to corner a demon who can jump over the walls.”
I nod knowing it can be hard to pin a demon period. Even with my abilities.
“How many did we lose?”
“About thirty,” Nal says. “Which is amazing considering how well armed those people were.”
“That’s a lot better than I expected.”
He nods.
“We should have plenty of weapons and ammunition now,” I say.
“More than you could imagine,” he says. “Good timing on it too. We’ll need all of it soon.”
“The only ammunition we need are more people like you,” Azrael says, entering the room. For the first time since I’ve met him his hood is relaxed on his shoulders, exposing his long brown hair.
“Or you,” I say, smiling. “Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you would be in Minnesota for a while yet.”
“I got there too late,” he says, sitting down on the stool next to the bed. “By the time I got to Hallock, Balthazel was long gone.”
Az, by mere technicality, is supposed to be a neutral party in this fight. As a fallen angel, most would believe that he would be on Lucifer’s side in the war. Double that when you consider that he left heaven for the same reasons as Hell’s fearless leader.
Fortunately for humanity, that’s where the similarities between the two fade. While he left heaven because he refused to worship humanity, he still felt the need to protect us. He didn’t hate God for creating us, he just felt like everything he created should be on even footing.
“I guess he must be close if you came back here.”
He nods. “The demons are on the move. In the last two months the amount of demonic activity in the area has nearly tripled according to my sources. Balthazel must want in on the fun.”
Balthazel is fairly high in the ranks of the demon armies. While he isn’t a commander like Abaddon, he is still high enough on the food chain to make things happen. At first glance, his powers almost seem to be weak or pedestrian, but that would miss the point. Through the history of mankind we have been through countless weather disasters, Balthazel was responsible for some of the worst. The most recent example I know of was Hurricane Katrina in 2005.
He has been rather quiet for the last few years from the reports I’ve heard, only surfacing recently.
I pick up the glowing orb I placed on the table next to my bed, the second in my now growing collection. I place both my hands on the thing, trying to draw the souls into my body the same way I would out of a person.
“Have you tried that spell of yours?” Nal says.
I shake my head. “I don’t think an exorcism works on an object.”
“It won’t,” Azrael says, looking the orb over. “But there might be another option.”
“I’m game for anything at this point,” I say.
“Well south, near the Bootheel, there is a woman who has the power to remove spirits from objects. I don’t know if it will work on the orbs, but it’s worth a try.”
“The Witch,” Nancy says, stomping into the room. From the scowl on her face I can tell she doesn’t like the person Az is talking about.
“Wiccan,” Az says, shaking his head. “She is a rather pleasant woman if you would give her a chance, Malachi.”
“Pleasant or not, she does not follow the ways.”
“And that is why she is stil
l here!” Az says, stepping into her face. “Is that not punishment enough?”
Nal stands up and gets between the two angels. If the trio wouldn’t give me dirty looks for trying, I would do the same thing. The last thing we can afford right now is to have fighting in the ranks.
“Azrael is on our side, like it or not,” I say. “And if he says this woman might be able to free the souls, then I think we need to give it a shot.”
Nal nods his head. “We don’t have a better plan. I’d be all for destroying them if it would work.” A fact we learned the hard way when one shattered in my fight against Duncan. A few days later the demons charged the compound to free the demon trapped inside.
“I take it you know how to get to her,” I say to Az as I sit up on the bed.
“I do,” he says, walking to the door. “The trip won’t be easy. So you should get some rest.”
“What’s so hard about a three hour trip down 55?”
“She lives on a farm just outside Caruthersville. There is a force of demons in the Bootheel using the city to ship construction materials upriver.”
“To the riverfront?” Nal asks.
“I believe so though I don’t know for certain.”
“So if she is outside of the city, how bad could it get?” I ask, getting antsy to leave.
“She is the type of person they would love to get their hands on,” Nancy says. “I would be surprised if they haven’t already.”
“I saw her about two months ago,” Az says, glaring at Nancy. “She has a strong will.”
She folds her hands under her breasts. “If they can break the girl,” she says looking at me. “They can break her too.”
“Then we settle this the easy way. I go talk to Stevens and get us a unit or two to go down there with you,” Nal says.
Azrael shakes his head. “It would generate too much attention. We would need to go alone.”
I shrug. I would feel a lot more comfortable with a few more people, but my track record with help isn’t too good recently. Besides, having an angel as powerful as Azrael around means a lot more to me than a few random soldiers.
“How long do I have until that window to save Sara opens?” I ask, looking over at Nancy.
“Four days,” she says. “After that, there are no promises.”
“Plenty of time,” I say, leaning back in the bed. “We’ll only need two.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” Nal says, laughing.
“You are better served with your planning and patience,” Nancy says to Nal before walking out the door.
“The world needs men of every type,” Azrael says. “You all have an important part to play in the coming days.”
With those words I close my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep. She may not be the answer, but with a few days to kill, it is worth the shot. Even if it means coming inches away from a hornet’s nest.
- 4 -
“You try to bring him back in one piece,” Nal says leaning into the driver’s side of my Ford Expedition. “You know how he likes to try getting himself killed.”
“I’ve noticed,” Az laughs. “He will be fine. Just try to leave something for me to fight when we get back.”
“No promises there,” Nal says. He walks around the car, reaching deep into his right pants pocket and pulls out a necklace. This is not any normal necklace though. The one he hands me is the shell of the vessel that once held the demon Israfil. The same demon that’s invading Sara’s body.
“Remember, you have four days to learn what you need to learn before our window to save her opens.”
“I’ll be back long before that,” I say, placing the amulet around my neck. “Just do me a favor. If something happens…”
“We leave Thursday either way,” he says, face full of concern. “Just don’t make me do it without you.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say, forcing a smile on my face.
Nal backs up a few steps allowing Az to back the car down the driveway. I let him drive because he has a better idea about where we are going than I do. That and it would be nice to relax awhile longer.
Once we are a few miles outside of the compound I look at Az to get some answers.
“So, tell me what you know about this woman,” I say, leaning my chair back.
“She is a very old woman, easily in her nineties, though she doesn’t know her birthday to know for sure. She was born on the same farm we are about to visit.”
“Family farm?”
Az nods his head. “As a child she grew up loving nature. As you can imagine, the farm played a large part in that.”
“Makes sense,” I say. “If she was truly a Wiccan.”
“She is. That is why she was approached at a young age to join a local coven.”
“Let me ask you an honest question,” I say looking over at him. “Do they really cast spells?”
In the entertainment industry, Wiccans were usually portrayed as having various magical abilities. The actual spells they could use would vary depending on what show you were watching, but they all could to some extent.
“Not in the way that most assume,” he says. “Most of what they do are rituals that are not so different than what many ancient cultures used to do. Some of them are not so different than the power of exorcism you have.”
“Anything special about this farm?”
“About seventy acres on the north side of Caruthersville. They used to keep about half of it with corn and the other half soybeans until recently. Before the Rising, she rented the land to other farmers to use.”
“Take it that means she never took a husband.”
He shakes his head. “The coven she joined was against marriage,” he says looking over. “And childbirth before you ask.”
That I found odd. I’ve heard about groups that would recommend unions with certain people or groups of people, but never one that didn’t allow it at all.
“If they were against marriage and having children, how did they grow?”
“They didn’t. That is why she is the last member of her coven.”
That is the reason I found it odd. As members leave, or die, the survivors must seek new members constantly to rebuild the ranks. In a smaller group of people, that may have been a realistic solution, but as the group gets larger it becomes more and more difficult.
The other option is that the rest of the members died off relatively quickly, leaving her as the sole member by default. I suppose we’ll have that answer before too long.
Az takes the exit ramp from 64 onto 270 south. Back in its heyday, this stretch of road could be treacherous at the best of times. The next exit, Manchester, was a major traffic hub from east to west with part of it being on the historic Route 66. Around that area there were hundreds of businesses set up handling everything from fast food to manufacturing.
“Looks like trouble,” Az says, pointing out the roadblock up ahead. “Is there another way around?”
“A few miles back,” I say. “We can hit some of the back roads to pass.”
Az pulls the car next to three other cars that are set up longways, blocking the highway. I get out of the car, quickly crossing the vehicle barricade to see what the trouble is up ahead.
“Looks like we may need another way after all,” I say, pointing at the large crater in the road right before the exit ramp.
“You won’t be going anywhere,” I hear a man say from behind me shortly before I hear the sound of him cocking his shotgun.
I turn around to see a middle aged man, probably in his thirties holding a fancy camouflage shotgun at Az. Behind him is a woman who looks the same age. While she isn’t armed, she stands with an unmistakable aura of confidence. Given our current situation, I decide to treat her like a demon until she proves otherwise. If I don’t she may not give me a second chance.
“What’s this supposed to be,” I say, stifling a laugh. “A robbery?”
“Something like that,” he says, training
the gun on me. “I want anything of value you have on you. Money. Jewelry. Those fancy swords. Throw them on the ground and walk away nice and slowly.”
“And if we don’t?”
“This!” The man pulls the trigger on the camouflage shotgun, sending a spray of pellets my way. Shotgun pellets are a little more tricky to stop, thanks to their small size. I was prepared for him to pull the trigger the moment I saw the loaded gun, however. With a push at the end of his gun, I stop the majority of the shot, leaving the rest to scatter wildly away from me.
Times like this makes me wish someone was shooting a video of the encounter because the look on his face is priceless. The kind of video I could watch on Youtube for hours. From the looks it’s almost like he didn’t expect someone to do that.
Sometimes it’s nice to have a unique ability.
Without hesitation, he cocks his gun back for another shot. Not wanting to stop another round of pellets, I push the spray I already control into his legs, causing him to yell out in pain as the pellets penetrate his skin.
“What’s the matter? Don’t like being shot?” I say as I pull his shotgun over to me.
The man drops to the ground, holding his bloody legs. “You just going to stand there woman? Get them!”
She looks at the two of us and shakes her head. I’m not sure what he had in mind, but she doesn’t seem to want any part of it as she makes a wide circle around us back up the highway.
“I guess these cars are all yours?” Az says, walking up to the mid eighties station wagon with heavily tinted windows on the left. He opens the rear door of the car sending boxes of food and ammunition crashing to the ground.
“Not a bad haul,” I say, walking over to the edge of the crater. The hole is large, nearly a football field across and probably half as far down. There is one thing that stands out more than anything though. The bottom of the crater is empty, not a single car or piece of asphalt is down in the pit. I find it hard to believe that this big of a hole could spawn out in the middle of the highway without having some debris at the bottom.
Sacrifice: The Demontouched Saga (Book 5) Page 2