by Lynn Landes
Gate 3
Wyoming
Wrapped in the celestial embrace of the gate’s realm, Zachariel can’t fathom what is happening. He only knows eight of his brothers have fallen. “Morgan?” He calls for his mentor and tries to access his gate, but it is gone from him. He shuts his eyes and pictures another gate in the wilds of Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming.
The air around him changes, turning cool, misting over his body and soothing it. With a softly spoken prayer, he heals his broken wings and superficial wounds.
A wolf howls a warning to its pack as a door rips into existence near a stream. Zachariel steps through, backlighted from the realm beyond. He listens to the water gurgling along, rushing through rocks and snaking around sticks. When his eyes snap open they are the eyes of a warrior preparing to greet his brothers, be they friend or enemy. A new sword shimmers into his hand and he is thankful to feel the weight of it.
Zach’s feet touch the soft cool grass and the gate closes leaving him in the darkness of the deathly quiet forest. The unnatural quiet is soon explained as the ravenous hunters step forth from the shadows, drawn by the perfume of rich angelic blood. Vampires, but not. Zach stares at what can only be described as demons. Vampire mixed with who knows what manner of creatures. Nine are visible, but he senses more, circling. Hairless, white skin that glows with a bioluminescent quality. They look almost human save the fact that they have two huge black eyes and no nose or mouth. Long apelike arms armed with razor sharp claws dragging across the ground as they stalk forward.
“Come you heathens, so I can send you back to Hell!” Zachariel’s eyes are filled with righteousness as he steps slowly to the center of the clearing. Moving in unison the pack circle him, closing in on the kill. His hand drops to a sheath on the side of his thigh retrieving a circular throwing blade. A fast twist and release sends the blade singing out into the night, arcing into the sky. Swiftly, he leaps for two of the creatures behind him, severing their heads with a single swipe of his sword and listening for the sound of the creatures scream as his blade returns to his hand covered in their gore.
“Run, Zachariel!” Apollyon calls out weakly to his mind. Two lay dead and one writhing on the ground. Another of the creatures rolls back its head at the neck revealing a cavernous hole. The gaping hole opens, and it vomits out smaller versions of itself. Immediately the monstrosities begin to manifest into replicant’s of the original, save one difference. Long wolfish mouths armed with razor sharp teeth.
Slowly turning, Zach faces an army thirsty for his blood.
His wings explode and he leaps into the night air, seeking the image Apollyon sends him. The Natural Bridge! The creatures follow from the ground, leaping with amazing speed they tear through brush, dense trees and across rivers with ease. The darkness doesn’t slow them, nor the speed at which he flies.
“To me, Zachariel! It is your only chance,” Apollyon yells to him from the other side of the park. He follows the call up the side of a small mountain and flies down the densely wooded valley. When he spots the large lichen covered stones that form the bridge, he swoops down towards a thirty-foot bridge with a perfectly formed hole beneath it. Centuries of runoff had flowed down the mountain from the spring rains and acted as a drill creating the magnificent feature.
Zach surges ahead of the creatures, aiming for the center of the natural archway and passes through it, before dropping to the ground. He tucks his wings away and tracks quickly through the heavy woodlands before he finds the entrance to the cave Apollyon presented to his mind. It is more of a gaping hole in the ground, dropping eighty-five feet to hard earth and stones. This pitfall has claimed many an animal since its formation millions of years ago. He can feel the heat as he drops down avoiding the sharp layers of shale and rock that protrude from the sides of the wall.
Landing with a soft whoosh his eyes adjust quickly to the darkness and he finds he is inside a massive cavern with four entrances of varying sizes, leading to other tunnels. “Second to the right, hurry, Zach,” Apollyon gasps out.
Behind him, he can hear the screaming howl of one of the creatures signaling it has picked up his trail. He tucks his wings tightly to his back and runs swiftly into the small tunnel. The heat grows more intense and his body grows salty with perspiration. “Apollyon?” He calls struggling to fit inside the narrow tunnel. Pushing through he realizes it is blocked by more rocks. Layers of stones have created a wall.
“Zachariel, in here. Quickly!” Apollyon calls to him from the other side of the rocky wall, “Shift, Zach!” Behind him, he hears the grunting, and thrashing of rocks as the creatures follow him inside the cave. Unable to move the rocks his large form shifts to stardust and passes through a small hole at the base of the wall.
Apollyon lies gasping on the bloodstained floor. His coffee-colored wings are torn, and one appears to be separated from the shoulder. “Zach, we don’t have much time. Those stones will only slow them down…” he groans and Zach rushes to his side.
“Yofiel betrayed us, Zach.”
Apollyon sits up assisted by Zach and yells in pain when he touches his ripped wing.
“Let me help you.” He whispers a prayer and sets his hands on the large angel’s broad shoulders. A warm glow of light flows from his hands to Apollyon, passing through his torn and broken body. “We have to get to the gate, Apollyon, I can only treat the smaller wounds here.” Depleted from his own healing he can only stop the major bleeding, he can’t heal the multiple broken bones.
A howl echoes down the cave walls, the pack has his scent now. The call of angelic blood is too much for them to resist and they begin grunting, digging and clawing at the barrier. Zach ignores it and bows his head in sorry, “Balthial, Gadriel, and Orifiel too.”
“No!” Apollyon stiffens and his brown eyes fill with fury. Zach nods his head and continues healing him.
“My gate was destroyed, and it’s much worse. Apollyon, they have joined with a vampire named Caius. I can’t reach the others.” Zach stands slowly and looks down at his massive friend and mentor.
Zach remembers the awe he felt the first time he was greeted by Apollyon. The sun glinted on the golden armor which stood out against his obsidian skin. He was called the “Destroyer” by the others for his mighty ways in battle. Looking at him now he can’t help but wonder…
“How did I end up like this?” Apollyon asks, pushing up against the wall. “The same way you did, I suppose.” The creatures have begun flinging themselves against the other side of the wall and are digging frantically. Rocks can be heard tumbling down to the floor of the cave.
“Why didn’t you heal yourself or call for help?” Zach asks and he remembers Caius said eight of his brothers have fallen. Drawing his sword, he turns to face his brother and prays he is wrong. “Why didn’t you use the gate?”
Apollyon stares at his friend in shock. “You dare to judge me?” His face shows pain and betrayal, but not anger. He stands up and drops his head in a prayer of peace.
“I’ve met this Caius you speak of. Balthial said eight have fallen, Apollyon. I have to know brother… my blade has been blessed to consume the sinful. Face me and be judged.” Zachariel swings his sword and it hisses as it flies through the air, stopping just short of Apollyon’s neck. In the golden hilt of the handle sits an azure stone. It glows igniting the cave with its ethereal glow. The light shoots through the cracks and crevices in the rocks and a squeal of pain echoes outside of the fallen cavern wall.
The Destroyer reaches up and grasps the blade of the sword with both hands. It cuts his hands deep, but Apollyon shows no sign of fear or pain. The blood rolls down the silver blade and covers the blue stone. The light coming from the stone flashes to a bright white blinding them with its brilliance. Zach lets go of the breath he has been holding in.
“Brother you are true.” When Zach tries to remove the sword from Apollyon’s grasp, he refuses to let go.
“Are you?” Apollyon demands. Zachariel smiles at his friend
.
“I used the gate, Apollyon. It felt me worthy enough to allow me to pass. I used it and left a trap for those behind me. It was compromised and had to be destroyed. I came here after trying to reach Morgan and the others.”
Apollyon releases the sword and attempts to put weight on his broken leg. He hisses in pain as he tries to extend his wing. “It is still broken. I won’t be able to fly, but at least the wound is closed.”
“The only thing left to do is to get back to the gate,” Zach states and heals his hands. “How many of these creatures are there?”
“When I arrived, those things were waiting for me. I was not expecting to be attacked by demonic vampire dogs, Zach. It was an ambush and I was overrun by their numbers. During the battle, my wing was broken and torn. I ran, hoping to access the gate. I too called for help, but none came. It was only by chance that I found this sink hole. Whether trap or natural it saved me, I fell through the hole, but the fall broke my ribs and leg. I was able to crawl far enough and squeeze inside this hole. That is when I felt you arrive.”
A howl of excitement sounds out as a large chunk of rubble is freed and a small section of rocks slides free. Frantic digging ensues and when a clawed hand reaches inside the hole to grasp the rock for leverage, Apollyon draws his sword and grins.
“Time to take out these dogs, Zach.”
“Only, we can’t use our swords to kill them. It only creates more,” Zach warns and grips the handle of his sword tightly.
“I’ve had to time to think and I have a plan, but it will require precision timing,” Apollyon grins.
“Finally, I get to watch the destroyer in action.” Zach prays for strength because he has no intention of leaving his brother behind to face these monsters alone.
Chapter 21
Anya and Katie watch in shock as Morgan, Liam, and Cass all fall to their knees. A searing pain ripples through the three Archangels. Heaven’s legions weep and their sorrow echoes through the souls of the guardians. “Two of our brothers have been destroyed,” Liam gasps. Liam’s reaches up and grasps their hands. He doesn’t bother to explain that they are out of time. Cass rests his hand on Liam’s shoulder, and they pray for strength and guidance.
“What’s happening?” Katie asks.
“We need to get to the third gate, now. The guardians are in trouble,” Cassiel explains.
Morgan glanced at Anya, “Can you help us, Anya? Is there nothing you can do?”
Anya feels the pain and stress radiating from them. They are looking to her for answers that she simply does not have. “I don’t know how to help.”
Liam turns and faces her. “You can do it again! If I place an image in my mind, Anya, you can retrieve it.” Anya looks up at him and wonders.
“Yes, I did it before with Katie, but she was picturing a person, not a place.” Tossing her dark hair back she paces in excitement.
“It’s the same principle,” Cass explains “and you won’t be alone. If we both hold the same image it will be stronger.”
“If this works, Anya can take us to the fourth gate. We can get to it before Caius this time and stop him,” Morgan declares.
“Yes, but we have to save the others. The gates must be protected.” Liam reminds them. “Morgan you need to get to the fourth gate. We will help at the third gate.”
“I am no longer able to use the gates, Liam. I am fallen,” his voice wavers for an instant. Katie moves close to his side in hopes of helping ease his burden. “We were created for one purpose, to serve and protect. I can be of no use to you now.”
“That is where you are wrong, Morgan,” Liam declares. “We are all fallen in some aspect. Anya has said it multiple times. There has been a shift, a change and that is the reason she is here. Right now, our brothers need us, and we need you.”
“He’s right, and we are out of time. Send us to the gate, Anya.” Cassiel demands.
Anya takes the hand of each angel and instantly she is drawn to their strength and courage. Immediately, the image comes through. A simple purple flame, flickering and growing. Anya closes her eyes and pulls the image from their minds. She feels a cool heat in her chest and arms as she pushes the image from her mind to the air above them. A wave of her glowing hands and the pure flame drops down over the two angels. They disappear.
Katie laughs, “Anya that was amazing!”
Morgan nods in agreement and does not speak for a moment. To never access the gates again, to be forever separated from all he knows is a punishment that is seared into his soul. Katie feels his pain and grabs his hand.
“Can you do it again?” He asks quietly.
“I will try,” Anya answers. A golden light surrounds them and fills them with a warmth. Morgan reaches out a hand to her and all three close their eyes. The wind circles around them but does not touch the group. When the scene changes in her mind they all tremble. This time, it is not a flame, but a stone mausoleum that enters her mind. Cold, gray and lifeless it waits. It is a cemetery surrounded by a black iron fence and each grave is marked with rough stone crosses of varying shapes and sizes.
Anya steps forward, passing through the maelstrom around them, and they are enveloped instantly by frigid air. This is not the soothing embrace of a healing flame, but a warning of death to come. Katie shivers and tucks into Morgan’s side. They are standing in the shadow of a tomb. It is backlit with the beautiful golden light. As they step away from the heat into the lifeless gray cemetery the light fades, leaving them standing in a soft drizzle of snow. It falls silently, dusting everything in a winter blanket.
“This can’t be good,” Katie whispers and refuses to let go of Morgan’s hand.
Anya sniffs the air and her fangs lengthen. “That depends on how you look at it…” she whispers. She can smell the betrayers and knows they are beyond redemption.
“Morgan, did you forget the rules. We are not allowed to bring humans to the gate. I am disappointed in you.” His high-pitched voice grates on Anya’s nerves. The fallen angel stands seven feet tall, muscular, with blonde spiked hair and metallic wings. His mirror twin steps into view from the right. Katie jumps when he whips the tip of his metallic wing out and slices into Morgan’s thigh.
Morgan blocks the next blow meant for her. “Brother, you must be punished,” he growls. Morgan takes his silver staff in both hands giving it a quick twist. A loud snap has two serrated blades extending out from the ends. The wicked edge of the blade sings as it cuts the air towards the fallen angel. It glances off the metal laced wings in a shower of sparks and noise. Morgan reverses the staff in a blur and drives the blade into the shoulder of his enemy, a shriek of rage sounds out and Katie is forced to cover her ears with her hands.
Anya watches and waits for the second twin to leap at Katie, thinking her an easy target, but he is too slow. She rips the head off of a stone statue and throws it at him. It hits with a bone-breaking crunch in the center of his chest, throwing him to the ground exploding multiple headstones as he crashes through.
A quick pull and Morgan pulls his staff out of his fallen brother. He spins it slinging the blood and buries it again in the twin’s chest. A scream of pain and rage greets him as he drives the bloody blade out of his opponents back.
Anya smells the blood of a Fallen and it triggers her shift. She appears to move as a blur. A mere whisper of wind marks her passage. She stops behind the fallen angel pinned by Morgan’s staff. Looking at the metallic wings, she realizes they are interwoven into a metal spinal column. It seems like a bracelet cuff wrapped around the rear of his neck and it passes down the back and carries the weight of the wings. She watches the dark blood flow down as Morgan draws his blood covered, blade back for another strike.
“I can smell the treachery in your blood. I’m so thirsty and it runs thick and strong in you.” Her eyes gleam with an amber light but he kicks out behind him sending Anya skidding away, her feet sliding in the damp blood-soaked snow.
Forgetting about Morgan he turns to greet her
and with a snap of his left wing, silver bladed feathers fly at her and bury into the ground where she was standing. “What manner of creature are you?” He rasps grabbing his shoulder in pain. Giving a shake of his wing, a new row of feathers slide forward with a clinking sound.
Morgan rushes to Katie and looks for the second twin.
Anya is through playing games, this time she moves in a blink. Stopping behind the enraged angel she punches her hands deep into his neck and wraps her taloned fingers around his spine. A wet geyser of blood and his tortured scream echoes across the stone landscape as she rips it from his back. She holds the spine and wings up and his body falls forward. “You have been judged, demon.” His twitching body lays on the bloody ground and the red pool surrounding him seems to be the only color around them.
Katie hides her face against Morgan’s neck and tries not to gag.
Anya watches with no emotion as the twin turns and flies screaming at her. She leaps into the air and her wings explode with a brilliant eruption of blue light. The hunger has taken over her mind, “too much blood” she thinks. Her mouth fills with saliva and her sole thought is one of a predator starving for nourishment.
Like his brother before him, he flicks his wing and sends four silver blades through the air straight at Anya. She is able to dodge two before the third and fourth find their mark. One sinks into her shoulder and the other slices deep into her leg. Anya screams and begins a tumbling descent to the earth.
Morgan reacts and leaps for the demon in the air. His powerful wings blow Katie’s hair into her face as he climbs quickly, closing the distance to his foe. He throws his spearheaded staff into the chest of the enraged angel. Its impact sends his forsaken brother screaming to the ground and pins him to the snow-covered stone.
Anya lands badly on the ground with a thud. “Thank you, Morgan.” She collapses to her knees for a second, breathing hard and gasping in pain. Katie rushes towards her, but Anya snarls at her. “No! Don’t touch me. Take Katie away from here and find the gate,” she orders.
