Talon of God

by Wesley Snipes

  Lauryn blinked. “What?”

  “You’re obviously prime material,” St. Luke explained. “I just met you a few minutes ago, but I already know that you’re determined, driven, talented, and selfless to the point of absurdity. I know all of that because a SEE warrior—and not just any SEE, but their poster boy Talon himself!—latched on to you. He even went so far as to entrust you with his sword, which I don’t have to tell you doesn’t happen often. But just because he wants you for his team doesn’t mean you have no choice in the matter. You still have your free will, which means there’s still a chance for you to join the winning side.”

  “Which I suppose you think you’re on?” Lauryn said, glaring.

  “But of course,” St. Luke replied. “That’s not foolish pregame bragging, either. As I’ve mentioned at least twice now, I’ve already won. My Z3X compound is spread all over Chicago. Even if your God decided to blow up every one of my factories right now, it wouldn’t change a thing. The damage is done. There’s nothing anyone can do to stop it now, not even me.”

  With every word St. Luke spoke, Lauryn’s hope grew dimmer. She didn’t want to believe him, but it was hard to keep the faith when she’d already seen the proof of what he was saying with her own eyes on the drive up here. But even as her belief that this could be fixed faltered, the ever-analytical doctor side of her still wasn’t satisfied.

  “Why?” she demanded.

  St. Luke blinked. “Why what?”

  She sat back on her knees, staring him straight in the face. “Why are you doing this? I’ve seen what Z3X does, and I still don’t get it. What victory does driving everyone crazy achieve? All you’ve got is a city full of psychotic monsters.”

  “Not monsters,” St. Luke said, his voice taking on the same irritated tone she’d heard in her own when she was trying to correct someone who wasn’t listening. “Anchors. Gateways. Vessels for my soldiers.”

  “You mean demonic possession,” Lauryn said, voice shaking.

  “‘Possession’ is such a strong word. I prefer to think of it as an opportunity. You see, even I can’t make people be evil. I can only tempt them until they become that way on their own, after which they’re left open to me like a window left cracked for a burglar. Continuing this metaphor, Z3X would be the crowbar. It’s a tool for widening what’s already there. Every person suffering under the effects of Z3X was already on a bad path. All my drug did was speed up the process, opening millions of souls that would otherwise be very poor grips for us on this world into full-scale hooks.”

  Lauryn frowned. “Hooks?”

  St. Luke nodded. “That part is very important. What you have to understand about hell, Dr. Jefferson, is that it’s very far away. ‘Cast into the deepest pit’ isn’t merely flowery Biblical prose. This world, the mortal world, is as far above us as heaven is above you, and it’s protected by death.”

  This explanation left Lauryn more confused than ever. “How does death protect something?”

  “It’s the only way through,” St. Luke explained. “Under normal circumstances, the only way a soul goes from here to hell is to die. The same goes for demons headed in the other direction. Unless we find a way to cheat the system, which I have found ways to do. But even then it’s very hard, because, again, hell is very far away. That’s where my plan tonight come into play, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is that hell doesn’t have to stay so far away.”

  He lifted his bloody hand, curling the fingers into a shape like a hook. “Every soul Z3X opens up is a soul for us to get our hooks into. The more hooks we have, the better our grasp on this world, and the easier it is to pull things from hell up. Get a good enough hold—say, a major metropolitan area of around two million people—and you’d be amazed what we can pull into creation. Whole armies, maybe even a citadel of hell itself! And once you get one foot in the door, it becomes easier and easier to pry it open even wider, forcing the veil of death back until there’s nothing in our way at all.”

  He finished with a deeply satisfied grin, leaning down until he was nose to nose with the doctor on the floor. “Now do you get it?” he whispered. “Now do you see what I mean when I say I’ve won? The moment that Z3X hit the streets months ago, my foot was wedged in that door. This whole time, I’ve been working on it, pushing it, wheedling it open wider and wider. At this point, I don’t think I could close it if I tried.” He pointed at the cube of darkness at the lab’s heart. “Look and see for yourself, if you dare.”

  Lauryn didn’t want to do anything he said. But curiosity had always been her great weakness, and in the end, she looked, lifting her eyes to the nothingness inside the black box no light could penetrate.

  “Careful,” St. Luke warned. “It stares back.”

  For once, Lauryn believed him. She could almost feel the darkness watching her, but horrifying as that was, she didn’t think the blackness was the doorway to hell St. Luke was making it out to be. First off, there was no stench of brimstone, and second, St. Luke had said hell was far away. All the way on the other side of mortality. But if that was true, then that black cube in front of her was . . .

  “Death,” she whispered, chest heaving. “That’s death.”

  “You are a clever girl,” St. Luke said, reaching down to pat her on the head. “Good guess. Though I’m afraid what you see there is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. The actual hole I’ve dug is much bigger, and getting more so all the time. At this point, with so many hooks in so many hearts, I’ve practically pried open a highway, which means my work in this city is all but done. The only thing left to do now is give it one last, hard yank.”

  Lauryn’s heart started pounding even harder. “And how do you do that?”

  St. Luke wagged his finger at her. “Oh, no, darling. That’s privileged information. Insiders only. But I’m in a very good mood, so I’ll make you a deal.”

  “To what?” she scoffed. “Join you?”

  “You say that like it’s unthinkable.”

  “What else can it be?” she cried. “If I believe anything you’ve told me, then you’re from hell. Actual hell, as in realm of unending torture. Even if you were destined to win, which I don’t think you are, why would I ever choose to join a side where victory means literal hell on earth? In what possible world is that a tempting offer?”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be hell for you,” St. Luke said. “You’d be with me, at the top. Take it from one who knows, my dear: ruling in hell is far better than serving in heaven. For one thing, we actually respect intelligence. Unlike those other guys who answer every reasonable question with mumbo jumbo about believing and trusting and other forms of blindness, we encourage skepticism. We also believe in proper compensation. You know SEE warriors take a vow of poverty and celibacy, right?” He shuddered. “What’s the point of all that power if you never get to use it? But you’re forgetting the strongest argument of all: I’ve already won. This whole thing’s a done deal. There is no victory condition left for Talon and his ilk. And since a big part of my victory is to slaughter all who oppose me, you really might want to reconsider my offer.”

  “So that’s my choice?” Lauryn said. “Join you or die?”

  St. Luke flashed her a charming smile. “I like to keep things simple.”

  It was certainly that, but Lauryn wasn’t changing her mind. “Your enemies aren’t slaughtered yet,” she reminded him. “Just because you’re ahead doesn’t mean you’ve won.”

  “Really?” St. Luke said, crossing his arms over his chest. “By all means, then, enlighten me. How shall I be defeated? Are you going to spout some more holy poetry at me? Move me to tears? Make an impassioned plea that will turn even my evil heart?”

  “That wasn’t what I had in mind,” Lauryn said, lurching sideways to grab the hilt of Talon’s sword from where Korigan had dropped it.

  St. Luke’s eyes followed the motion, and he sighed in disappointment. “So that’s how it’s going to be
?” he said, shaking his head. “Foolish girl, you don’t even know how to use that weapon.”

  He was right. Before today, Lauryn had never even held a sword. She didn’t actually think she was holding it correctly now but it didn’t matter. Just because she wasn’t a fighter didn’t mean she didn’t know what to do. St. Luke’s attempts to lure her over to his side had only made her more sure, because now more than ever, Lauryn knew Talon had been telling the truth. She did have a mission here tonight, and it wasn’t to find an antidote. Everything that had happened over the last few crazy days had led her to this moment: here on her knees with the enemy right in front of her, looking down on her, underestimating her in every way. And the more Lauryn thought about that, the surer she became.

  You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

  St. Luke rolled his eyes as she stood up. “Fine,” he said, exasperated. “You want to be foolish? Be my guest. Encouraging doomed acts of delusional hubris is one of my favorite hobbies, so let’s go.” He patted his chest. “Hit me with your best shot. Never mind that Korigan already tried that and failed. He was just an inhumanly strong monster of rage and greed. I’m sure you, the scrawny ER doctor who hasn’t been to the gym a day in her life, will definitely do a better job.”

  Lauryn narrowed her eyes, pointedly ignoring him as she rose from the ground and walked past St. Luke toward the center of the bloody lab where the black cube waited.

  “Okay, now I’m curious,” St. Luke said, hurrying after her. “I know things look dire, but I hope you’re not considering suicide. It’s the only unforgivable sin, you know.”

  Lauryn ignored that, too, keeping her eyes on the watching dark as she moved closer.

  You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

  “I wouldn’t go much farther if I were you,” St. Luke warned. “I’ve been a little overzealous tonight, and I’m afraid the boundaries aren’t quite as clear as they used to be. Go much closer, and you won’t come back.”

  That’s what Lauryn was counting on. She walked right up to the edge, getting as close as she dared to the line of darkness no light could penetrate. Then, when she was right on the edge, she turned around and held Talon’s sword up hilt first.

  “You want it?”

  St. Luke scoffed. “Please,” he said, insulted. “You can’t tempt the tempter.”

  “Can’t I?” Lauryn said, wiggling the gleaming sword at him. “I still know very little about the SEE, but I know their swords are precious. Holy objects, even, and extremely hard to get. A perfect trophy for your victory, in other words.” She smiled. “You want it, don’t you?”

  St. Luke didn’t deny it, and he didn’t take his eyes off the sword. For a moment they both faced off, Lauryn holding out the sword, the bloody man trying not to take it. Then, fast as a striking snake, St. Luke’s hand shot out to wrap around the hilt.

  Gotcha.

  The moment his grip tightened, Lauryn wrapped her own hand tight around the sword’s cross-guard . . .

  And fell backwards into the wall of dark behind her.

  As soon as she crossed the threshold, time slowed to a crawl. This was probably when her life was supposed to be flashing in front of her eyes, Lauryn realized, but she was too busy watching the panic cross St. Luke’s face as he realized what was happening. Lauryn was taking the sword—his trophy—into the Great Beyond with her. Close as she was looking, she could actually see the moment he contemplated letting go, but if there was anything she knew about the devil, it was that he was greedy, and sure enough, St. Luke didn’t go. Instead, he braced against the floor, stopping them both.

  “Stupid girl,” he snarled at her, his face warped by the hazy border of the doorway. “Do you think I fear death?” He nodded down at his bullet-riddled chest. “You’re another story, though. You must be feeling it by now, the cold breath on your neck? The icy grip of mortality? It has you now, but it’s still not too late.” He leaned in closer, his face turning bone white in the dark. “Give me the sword, and I’ll save you.”

  Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.

  Lauryn looked him dead in the eye. “You never save anyone,” she growled. “And I will never let go.”

  And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

  St. Luke’s lips curled in a snarl of pure rage. “Fine,” he spat, pulling back his leg to kick her the rest of the way in. “Then go ahead and—”

  He never got to finish. The moment he lifted his leg to kick her, Lauryn lurched with all her weight. Unbalanced on a single foot, St. Luke’s superior strength didn’t matter. He had no leverage to fight her. After that, it was as simple as falling backwards, dragging St. Luke, who’d never let go of Talon’s sword, into the abyss with her.

  16

  That Any Should Perish

  The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness,

  but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish,

  but that all should reach repentance.

  —2 Peter 3:9

  When Lauryn opened her eyes again, she was alone.

  She blinked in confusion, looking around at the dark. The last thing she remembered was dragging St. Luke into the black cube, but the dark here wasn’t anything like the cold, infinite dark of the abyss she remembered falling into. It was warm and familiar, the orange-lit half-dark of a city night. The rest was different as well: no more terrifying satanic lab or blood or even St. Luke himself. There was only her, standing alone on the snowy street . . .

  In front of her father’s house.

  That couldn’t be right. Lauryn turned in a slow circle, glaring at the peaceful, undisturbed snow around her for some sign of the trap this had to be, but there was nothing. Just her childhood neighborhood as she’d loved it best, sleeping beneath a winter blanket on a quiet night, filling her with a deep, restful peace like nothing she’d ever known. Oddly enough, that was the clue that made the rest come together. Even in the deepest, snowiest night, nowhere in Chicago was ever this quiet. In a city of 2.7 million people, there was always someone yelling, something breaking or moving about, and yet the night around her was silent. So silent, actually, that Lauryn couldn’t even hear the puff of her own breath, which could only mean one thing.

  She was dead.

  This wasn’t a surprise, exactly. She’d known where she was headed the moment she’d decided to take St. Luke with her. But knowing you were going to die and actually being dead were two entirely different animals. Still, it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected. As a doctor, Lauryn had always seen death as the enemy; the ultimate failure to be fought at all costs. Now she had to wonder if she and her fellow ER staff had been in the right all those times they’d wrestled someone back from the brink. If she’d known death would be this peaceful, maybe she wouldn’t have fought it so hard.

  Well, right or wrong, there was nothing she could do about it now. She didn’t want to just keep standing here in the street, either. Apparently, snow was cold in the afterlife as well. Her booted feet were already starting to ache, so she stomped them on the pavement, looking around for some kind of sign: a light, pearly gates, anything to tell her what to do next. But other than the unnatural quiet, the street looked exactly as it always did. She was wondering if she was supposed to just start walking when she finally looked up . . . and nearly fell on her ass in the snow.

  There was something enormous in the sky above her, and it was not peaceful or good. It floated in the night like a towering thunderhead, but there was nothing fluffy or soft about the pitch-black battlements or the twisted towers that rose from the thing’s peak like something out of M. C. Escher’s nightmares. The main body was even worse—an ugly, pitted ball of dark volcanic-looking stone that didn’t look structurally sound, much less capable of flight—but what really made Lauryn’s blood run cold was the haze that surrounded it.

  Her first thought was of billowing smoke, but as she watched the stuff move
, she realized the cloud was actually made up of swarming creatures. Distance made them look no bigger than gnats, but Lauryn was certain the flying specks had to be at least as big as her, if not bigger, and there were thousands of them. No, millions. So many that their locust-like swarm darkened even the night sky. She was still staring at them in horror when she heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow behind her.

  Before she could even think about it, Lauryn spun around, raising Talon’s sword, which she’d only just now realized she was still clutching in her hand. But as she turned to face the new threat, she realized it wasn’t one of the winged black things she’d seen overhead. It wasn’t even someone she knew who’d died (which, considering where she was, Lauryn had been half expecting). It was someone entirely new, someone Lauryn—who wasn’t sure of much at this point—was positive she had never met if only because there was no chance she would ever forget meeting a man like this.

  He was ridiculously tall, easily the tallest person Lauryn had ever seen, and yet, despite this, he was perfectly proportioned, his strong body the athlete’s ideal beneath his cloud-gray suit and white winter coat. His face was ageless and hard as stone, a sharp contrast to his deep brown eyes and dark skin, which were almost glowing with strength and vitality, though that might have been a reflection from the enormous golden wings that rose from his back, framing his shaved head in an aura of glory.

  “Hello, Lauryn,” he said, his inhumanly deep voice vibrating through her chest. “My name is Akarra. It is my pleasure to finally meet the Savior of Chicago face-to-face.”

  “Uh, same?” Lauryn replied awkwardly, unsure what else to say. She got nervous when moderately famous people came into her ER; an angel was completely outside her comfort zone, which was why she didn’t process the rest of what he’d said until several seconds later. “Wait, savior of what?”