by Barry Reese
A ghostly apparition of a beautiful young woman appeared, dressed in a long cloak and what could only be described as a metal bikini. Her ample curves were barely covered and Atlas whispered, “Holy shit,” under his breath.
John held his tongue though it was only through a tremendous force of will.
A quick glance down at her own form brought a look of sublime horror to her face and Jennifer Black exclaimed, “Crapola! Why did I appear like this? I haven’t dressed like this since I was sixteen!”
Eyeing the way she was spilling out of parts of the suit, John said, “Yeah... it, uh, looks like a little snug...”
Jennifer cast daggers at him with her eyes, pulling her cloak about herself. “My astral appearance aside, I’m here on important business.”
Ignoring Atlas, who still stood nearby with lust in his eyes, John moved toward his cousin. “What’s wrong? Is it Gideon?”
“Hell yes, it’s Gideon! He’s in deep trouble. He convinced me we should let ourselves get captured to try and find out who’s behind all this... Well, we have and it’s really, really big. I need you.”
“Does Babylon know that you’re here, asking me for help?
Jennifer’s astral projection shrugged and when she did, the cloak parted a bit, giving Atlas another eyeful. He swallowed audibly. “Not really,” she answered. “But I’m not like you or Dan. I’m not going to be stuck helpless in the Void while he gets our combined butt kicked from one end of England to the other! I’m a mage and if I think I can help us, I’m gonna do it!”
John grinned. He liked Jennifer a lot, admiring her spunk and grit. He stepped over to his bike, stopping only to retrieve his shotgun. Straddling the seat, he said, “This thing can take me to him?”
Jennifer flickered, dimming in brightness. “Yeah. Just hang on and it’ll know the way. I’m giving it a magical form of GPS.” Grimacing, she said, “Done—and I’m almost out of energy.”
“Go on back, kid. And tell Babylon to keep himself in one piece until I get there.”
As Jennifer vanished with a grateful smile and a thumb’s up, Atlas asked, “Would you like some help?”
John spun the cycle in a circle, kicking up a spray of sand. Over the roar of the engine, he yelled, “Thanks but no thanks! I’d rather you stay here and play cavalry if we get in too deep.”
Without waiting to hear Atlas’s response, John kicked the cycle into high gear. It roared forward, hellfire spewing forth from beneath its wheels. It moved across the surface of the water, causing a sizzling hiss whenever it touched the tops of the waves and generating a cloud of steam in his wake.
Hang in there, Jen. I’m on my way.
***
“Hang in there, M’Baku! Please!” Sylvia Maxim’s voice sounded strained and weary, but she tried to appear strong as the African shaman screamed out again in mental agony.
At her side, her former mentor looked as grave as Sylvia felt. Abigail Cross said, “We can’t last much longer like this. Our spirits have been gone from our bodies for far too long. If this continues, we will begin to fade away—just as M’Baku is now doing.”
“I thought Jennifer was going to help us,” Sylvia whispered.
“Perhaps she has been distracted by other things... Whatever attacked all of us has no doubt turned its attentions to her alone. We should pray that she has the strength to survive whatever onslaught is being delivered her way.”
Catalyst appeared beside the women. “Sounds like it’s a good thing that I’ve found a means of escape.”
Abigail turned a kindly smile upon Nathaniel Caine. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”
Catalyst glanced around at the other mystics in attendance, noting that many of them were listening in on their conversation. All of them considered Nathaniel their greatest hope of escaping this trap and he held their confidence close to his heart, nurturing it.
He took hold of M’Baku’s hand and shared some of his own mystical power. It had the dual effect of weakening Catalyst while stabilizing the African’s form. “As we have all noticed,” Catalyst said after dropping his friend’s hand, “it is seemingly impossible for us to contact anyone on the prime material plane. The magic involved in this assault is enormous and can only be wielded by someone on the level of a High Lord of Hell... and even then, I think they would probably need assistance from another or from a powerful artifact.”
Sylvia replied bitingly, “We know all of that. Please tell me you have something new to add...”
“I do.” Catalyst made a gesture in the air, creating a mystic impression showing the various levels of reality. The prime material and astral planes were highlighted but so was another level, one just past the level where they were currently trapped. “The Realm of the Just Dead is home to more than just those that have passed away and are awaiting assignment in the afterworld. It’s also the meeting place for a number of spirits that frequent the prime material plane. I’ve discovered that it’s possible for us to pierce the Barrier there, making contact with the entities that are currently residing there.”
Abigail nodded with understanding. “And if we can make contact with someone that frequents the mortal realm, they can carry a message for us.”
“We should send someone to the New Olympians,” Sylvia said.
Catalyst pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I do believe that should be one of our goals, but I was thinking that we should make attempting to reach Jennifer our primary focus.”
“But she’s already aware of our situation—and she’s done nothing to help us so far!” Sylvia protested.
“The girl has a lot of ability—we must remember that. Besides, she is the only one of us to have escaped this place... that should tell us all that she’s important to this entire affair. Besides, the being that I’ve been able to contact has a special connection to her.”
That brought a look of surprise to many faces, but it was M’Baku, looking much stronger, that asked, “You’ve already contacted someone?”
“I have.” Catalyst pointed toward a shape slowly forming nearby. It was hazy, distorted by the Barrier that trapped the mages on the astral plane, but it gradually became the form of an old man with a long white beard. He wore robes of purple and an old-fashioned wizard’s cap.
The old man smiled, opening his arms in greeting. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Byron the Enchanter stands ready to serve4.”
***
Babylon unleashed a powerful energy blast that struck Bloodshot in the midsection. The cosmic spirit of dark vengeance roared with a fury that made Jennifer flinch within him. It was not a side of Gideon Black that she had ever seen before and it was not one that she enjoyed. “Liar! Deceiver! Again and again you and your father have plagued me, but no more! The scales of justice must be balanced!”
Babylon flew toward Bloodshot, the desire for retribution so strong that it threatened to overwhelm his sanity.
Bloodshot jumped from the darkness, hurtling over the head of his enemy. He landed on Babylon’s armored back and reached around to dig his claws into the hero’s eye sockets. The vampire twisted, trying to tear Babylon’s head clean off the shoulders.
In response, Babylon summoned forth the cosmic energy that coursed through his being. It exploded out from his eyes, running up Bloodshot’s arms and engulfing his entire body in burning agony.
The vampire released his grip on Babylon and fell to the ground, writhing as his body was burned by starlight. The cosmic hero landed beside his old foe, watching him with an expression of fury showing on his face. Babylon raised his boot and brought it down hard on Bloodshot’s skull, repeating the action again and again until the cracking of bones could be heard. Bloodshot’s wails of pain fell silent and his body grew still. Being a member of the undead, Bloodshot could recover from almost any wound short of being staked through the heart or decapitation... but Babylon knew that Bloodshot would not soon return from these injuries.
Damian moved back, feeling the cold touch of fear in his midsectio
n. Of all the creatures on Earth, few could be as fearsome as the cosmic force for retribution, especially when he was in a state such as this. Babylon was out for blood.
Damian raised a hand, motioning for Dr. York to engage Babylon in battle. The headless villain needed no further prompting. He flew his platform low over Babylon’s head and pelted him with small glass capsules that burst upon impact with the hero’s armored form. Burning acid spilled from the shattered containers, burning Babylon’s metallic skin and causing him to gasp in pain.
“The forces of Hell have decreed that you’re to die, Babylon! If you stop fighting, your suffering will end much quicker!”
Babylon ignored the threat, instead choosing to begin walking in the direction of York. The villain had spun about and flew back toward the hero, some sort of gun now clutched in his hand. York’s brilliance was unchanged despite his horrific appearance. He frequently created weapons that were capable of killing humans in great numbers... and Babylon had no desire to find out what this particular gun did.
In a low voice, Babylon said, “Jennifer... aid me.”
Within him, Jennifer fought to overcome her revulsion. She could still hear the sound of Bloodshot’s skull being shattered and, even though she knew the vampire was pure evil, it made her shiver in horror. Given that she was now bound to Babylon, she had a suspicion that this would not be the last such act she would be a party to. Still, these creatures needed to be stopped—quickly.
A spell tumbled forth into Gideon’s mind, dispatched from Jennifer’s memories. Though he was no spellcaster himself, he was now merged with one of the most talented young mages on the planet. “Skirim donus explorum!” he said aloud.
No sooner were the words spoken than Dr. York began to experience their effect. His skin began to crystallize as bits of ice formed over his flesh and on the protective casing that shielded his brain. He flew higher, as if the increasing distance between himself and Babylon might save him.
It didn’t.
As the cold air caused his brain to cease functioning, he tumbled off the side of the flying platform. When his body crashed into the ground, it shattered into a thousand pieces. The globe around his brain broke, as well, and his brain—the precious, gray matter that carried his insane genius—crumbled apart.
Babylon turned back to face the son of Lucifer, the cosmic energy around his form burning brighter than ever. He strode toward his old foe, aware that this next battle would not be so easily won. “The truth, demon! If you are capable of such... Why have I been plagued with doubts? Was it merely the absence of Daniel that led me to feel that I was not myself? When I first returned from Hell and fought with The Peregrine, I thought that Gideon Black was a lie... I have sought to avoid such thoughts since but I ask you this: Am I Gideon Black? Are the memories that I’ve recaptured truly my own?”
Damian laughed loudly, his physical form shifting and growing until he was twice the height of Babylon. Rain began to fall and lightning lit up the night sky. All over England, a storm began to brew... it was one that had been long in coming but was now arriving in full force. “I’d planned to wait for all this, old foe. I had everything on such a tight schedule, but I see now that I was foolish to wait. Why play games when you can smash the game board itself and claim victory?”
Babylon flew upward, his fist striking the oversized lord of lies on the chin and snapping his head back. “No more wordplay! Answer my questions or I swear by all that I have that you will suffer in torment!”
“Bold words, Babylon!” Damian stared at the cosmic spirit of retribution and said, “Let me cast you a few morsels to chew upon... It matters not to me, after all. Your mind was ill-prepared for your sudden return to the mortal plane. For beings such as myself it is no more difficult than crossing from water to land, but for one like you... it was enough to leave you mentally unbalanced, especially without a human host to offer you stability. But have you given thought to your last days in my realm? Do you remember what final act drove you to leave and toss aside the crown of Hell?”
Damian’s taunting manner made Babylon grow concerned. “I... remember that I grew weary of the daily horrors. Roxanne needed to return to her husband and I... I felt empty and without purpose.” Babylon hesitated, sensing that something important lay just outside his memory. What was it? What had happened?
“Do you not remember the long nights of boredom, Gideon? The endless searches through the Libraries of Hell for something that you needed to know though you weren’t quite sure why? Do you not remember the Book of Erebus?”
Sudden, stark images flowed through Gideon’s mind. He saw himself in a great library, reading a book made of human flesh. There had been a drawing on those awful pages... of a brown-skinned man being sealed alive within armor designed by Heaven but forged in Hell. He remembered reading something about the Furies binding the soul of a man to the spirit of cosmic retribution, and the angel Uriel granting still more power... the power of death itself. And there was still more, the names of the Furies... Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone.
Gideon realized that he had returned to Earth not just to escape the drudgery of Hell, and not just to return Roxanne to her family, but to do something more. Something related to the Furies. “I do not understand. Why can I not recall the full details?”
“Well, I’m sure that Fisher5 could have explained it to you but I don’t think you’ll get the opportunity to ask him!” Damian raised both hands and directed a powerful blast of Hellfire that sent Babylon tumbling backward. Pain wracked the hero’s body and even Jennifer felt the agony, her soul-self crying out in the Void.
Babylon tumbled to the ground, where the son of Lucifer’s mystic onslaught continued. He tried to stand but Damian’s attack was so powerful that he was barely able to rise to one knee.
“You... will not... destroy me!” Babylon yelled. “I shall not rest... until... I have seen you dead... forever!”
As the rains came down harder and harder, Damian tried to increase the amount of energy that he was sending at Babylon. Drawing upon his deep reserves of power was not without its toll, however; Damian returned to normal human size, unable to maintain his massive growth while simultaneously attacking his enemy.
“Die, damn you!” Damian screeched. “Your usefulness ended years ago—now you are only a thorn in my side!”
“What’s that make me? A gnat?”
Damian whirled about just in time to see that the twin barrels of a shotgun were pointed directly at his face. The gun discharged two powerful shells, exploding Damian’s head in a spray of red and gray mist. His headless body toppled to the ground, twitching.
Babylon looked up in confusion, seeing John Galahad sitting atop his motorcycle. The handsome man was grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “You’re welcome, Gideon.”
Rising to his feet, Babylon responded, “Galahad... he is not dead. He will reform.”
John turned off the motorcycle’s engine and then calmly strode over to Damian’s headless body. He shot it five more times, twice in the heart and three times in the crotch for good measure. “Not tonight he won’t.”
Babylon swayed on his feet. John had never seen him look so tired before. The rains were continuing to fall all around them, turning the soil to mud. “England is in peril,” Babylon said. “And I... I must find... Fisher.”
With those words, Babylon fell forward into John’s arms.
And the storm raged on.
Chapter VI Christmas Wishes
John Galahad ran a hand over his stubble-lined chin before reaching over to pick up a half-empty bottle of liquor. He cradled a phone between his ear and shoulder, listening to the heart-rending sounds of his wife’s crying on the other end of the line. “Listen, Rox... I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”
“It’s Christmas, Johnny! It’s Christmas and instead of being home with me and the kids, you’re in London on some damned adventure! You’re not a kid anymore and you’re not a prisoner to Gideon Black
now! You don’t have any more excuses.”
“This isn’t an excuse, baby, I swear... but Daniel was my brother. There were so many years that I thought I was alone before I found him. I can’t turn my back on him.”
“He’s dead, John.”
“I know that,” he replied, a little bit more hotly than he’d intended. “I’m here to honor his memory. And Jennifer needs me. She’s family.”
“So am I. So is Greg. So is Nancy.” Roxanne sighed, sounding weary and alone. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. Not today. I just miss you. After all the time we’ve spent apart from each other over the years, I just don’t want to miss another second with you. Please come home, John. If you love me, come home right now.”
John took a long swig from the bottle, draining its contents. He tossed it aside, where it landed noisily amidst a growing pile of similar containers. “I wish you wouldn’t put me in a spot like this,” he whispered.
“It shouldn’t be that hard of a choice, John.” A meaningful silence appeared, one that grew more noticeable with each passing second. “But I can see that it is... do you have a thing for Jennifer? Is that what you’re wanting now? Some sweet little white girl with a tiny ass?”
“Hell no! The kid’s just that—a kid! She’s my cousin, Rox. Me and her, we’re the last of the family and—”
“No, you’re not!” The anger in Roxanne’s voice made John wince. “Your children are part of the same god-damned family, John! I wish you’d never found Daniel at all and that you’d let all of this occult nonsense go away. Maybe then you’d remember where your real responsibilities are!”
John heard the harsh click on the other end of the line and he closed his eyes, feeling terrible. He hadn’t even gotten to tell the kids Merry Christmas.
Why was he still here? Babylon could take care of himself and, to be honest, so could Jen. So why did he feel like he couldn’t walk away from this one?
He glanced to the window and saw that a full moon was shining down over London. Snow was coming down hard and fast, the rainstorm having morphed into a wintry mix over the past couple of days.