by Mark Romang
“I have nowhere else to go, Brooke. Winter is coming on. It’s too late in the year to build anything.”
Brooke returned to kneel by the fire. She ate one of his hazelnuts. “I have a proposition for you, Nathan.”
“I’m listening.”
“The bunker my father built is actually an old gold mine on a property he bought in the high country. He’s reinforced a portion of the mine to make it safe and livable, and converted it into a bunker. This bunker has enough provisions and space for six people to live three years or more. But with my lousy navigational skills I’ll never find it. But I know you can find it, Nathan. And if you help me find it you can live there.”
“You barely know me, Brooke,” Nathan smiled mischievously. “And now you want to live with me?”
“Don’t kid yourself, Nathan. This will be a strictly plutonic living arrangement.”
“Okay, I’m in. Do you have a map and coordinates?”
Brooke opened her backpack and gave him a topographical map. The bunker coordinates were written on the map’s border. Banks shook his head. “You are way off course, Brooke.”
“I told you I’m navigationally challenged.”
“So when do you want to leave? We’re at least twenty-five miles away from your bunker, and that’s as the crow flies.”
“Is now too soon?”
Banks snuffed out the fire. “Just let me pack up a few things and we’ll be on our way. But we’ll have to camp along the way somewhere. It’s an arduous hike through rough terrain, and I don’t want to use any hiking trails. We’ll have to bushwhack a good portion of the trek. So we’ll need two full days, probably three.”
“That’s fine with me. The sooner I can get out of this wet forest the better.”
Chapter 9
Teredel
The rescue party traveled single file along a harrowing foot path located atop a narrow ridgeline. Sheer crags tumbled down sharply to either side, providing high-risk fall opportunities. As far as Andrew Maddix could figure, the mountain pass they traveled would eventually descend into a broad valley where the city ruins lay.
Maddix used his sword as a trekking pole, or a cane to keep his balance on the loose shale and scree covering the ridgeline. He didn’t like treating his weapon this way. It seemed disrespectful to do so. His particular sword dated back to the Garden of Eden, and didn’t rely on sharpness to maim or kill. His sword possessed a supernatural ability to ignite into flames when he needed to fight. And when Maddix plunged the sword into his foe during a battle, it caught not only their body on fire, but their soul.
Maddix wasn’t sure which direction they traveled. He just knew they descended. An angel named Vallen walked just ahead of him, while Coleton Webb followed at Maddix’s heels, keeping his promise to protect his back.
Although he felt honored to be chosen by God to go on this rescue operation, Maddix couldn’t wait for the mission to be over with. As a Navy SEAL on earth he once lived for adrenaline-inducing missions. But now that he tasted immortality, and witnessed the majesty of God and sampled Heaven’s unending rewards, the allure of battle didn’t tug at him as much. He wanted to go back to Heaven where he belonged. He felt out of place in Teredel, like he shouldn’t be here. Teredel was a place one didn’t want to talk about, let alone visit. Everything about the place disturbed him, especially the fog. A foul-smelling vapor drifted balefully along the ridgeline, curling around boulders and rocks and even their ankles. Maddix couldn’t see his feet as he picked his way among the rock rubble.
A pall of evil from within the fog accompanied them like an unwanted stray dog. And much like the plague of the firstborn in ancient Egypt, something sinister permeated every tendril of the reeking fog. Maddix scrunched his nose as he descended into the smelly brume.
On several occasions during this odd and frightening journey he thought he heard movement, foot scrapes other than what came from his fellow warriors. And he had a sneaking suspicion they were being watched. By whom or what he didn’t particularly want to find out. Only fallen angels or transients, thieves and killers, fiendish beasts or monsters found within the pages of a horror novel would find the jagged rocks and forbidding caves of this macabre realm to their liking.
No green vegetation existed anywhere in Teredel. Cinder-gray rock piled upon cinder-gray rock met Maddix’s gaze in every direction. The subliminal voices, the whispers in the dark he told Michael about earlier, came and went, drifting like the fog, but never totally vanishing. This place could very well be the Valley of the Shadow of Death, he thought.
Maddix shook his head at the stray thought. He didn’t believe the Valley of the Shadow of Death referred to in Psalm 23 was a literal place. But if he was wrong and this was it, he didn’t need to worry. He couldn’t die a second time. Furthermore, he traveled with Michael the archangel and nearly three-dozen other elite warrior angels. Best of all, the Holy Spirit lived inside him, protecting him every step. He couldn’t be safer. Still, he felt like he skipped right over the green pastures and still waters part and jumped feet first into Grim Reaper territory. Feel free to break out the anointing oil at any time, Lord, Maddix prayed silently. And fill our cups till they overflow.
The craggy terrain eventually leveled out and the narrow foot path spilled onto a fog-shrouded valley floor. Maddix found the going easier on the flatter ground. But he kept his head on a swivel, wary of an ambush. Occasionally the fog thinned out enough to where he could see the desolate ground. But just as quickly as the ground appeared, fog tendrils drifted back together, shutting off his view. A few times during the moments of clarity he spotted pale rocks lying amongst the cinder-gray ones. He wondered if the pale rocks were more Nephilim bones, and if he’d been unknowingly treading on them during their journey, stepping on bone fragments of what were once mutant humans.
Maddix banished the disturbing thought and forced his mind to concentrate on his footing and teammates ahead. The valley floor enabled them more room to operate. Michael flashed them some hand signals and they fanned out into a diamond formation with Michael taking the lead. The diamond formation helped to secure their front and flanks and required each warrior to cover a sector of responsibility as they moved. Their ability to spot the enemy increased with the diamond formation.
Eventually they came to a dry river bed where the malodorous fog seethed and billowed like the vapors off a witch’s cauldron. But this fog acted and appeared differently than the fog on the ridgeline. Moisture couldn’t be found in it, only ash. The thought again occurred to Maddix that somewhere an unquenchable fire raged.
Still maintaining their diamond formation, they began to cross the wide riverbed. The fog collected here where water once flowed, and the concentrated vapors rose to Maddix’s knees. Unable to see his lower legs, he stepped on something pliable. Maddix jumped back. It could just be his imagination working against him, but he thought he heard a low snarl or growl a split second after he stepped on the hidden object. He examined the spot where he heard the snarl but saw nothing threatening in the fog. He dipped his sword into the fog and moved it around, but felt no resistance. He moved on but warily, maintaining four meters distance between him and Vallen.
A long quiver holding arrows equipped with seven-inch arrowheads hung on Vallen’s broad back between his bunched wings. Vallen possessed unparalleled archery skills. Maddix enjoyed watching Vallen practice. The angel never missed and could reload with blinding speed. Vallen remained humble though when praised about his skill. He always gave God the credit for his remarkable accuracy. Vallen’s faithfulness to God couldn’t be shaken. And it made Maddix wonder why other angels, like the banished ones here in Teredel, couldn’t maintain their loyalty to God in the same manner as Vallen.
Why did they prefer serving Satan over God? It made no sense to Maddix. Tragically, their preference mirrored the majority of people still living on earth. Yet at one time during his earthly life he had also wanted nothing to do with God. His pride and independence h
ardened his heart to hammered steel. Fortunately that all changed for him in a cave in Afghanistan. During a recon mission with three other SEALS, Maddix nearly died when he stepped on a land mine. And his subsequent near-death experience showed him there really was a spirit realm.
During the seconds when his pulse stopped he’d seen hell, and he’d also witnessed the Lake of Fire. More like an ocean than a lake, its flames blazed as high as a skyscraper. And the terror he experienced during that out-of-body experience sent him running into God’s open arms after he revived.
Teredel reminded him a great deal of hell. Like foothills giving way to mountains, Teredel seemed like a suburb of hell, an outlying district so evil and accursed it had to be a first cousin to Satan’s primary haunt.
Nearing the opposite bank, Maddix cleared his mind and crossed the riverbed on high alert. He used his feet like sensors, trusting them to warn him of hidden threats in the fog. Before he reached the bank his left foot stubbed against something. And this time he felt the object he’d stub move in a reactionary way. Maddix jerked to a halt, at the same time he lifted his sword to an offensive position. He glued his eyes to the fog just ahead of him. An instant later he witnessed a sudden flash in the fog, and then a hideous creature flew up from the vapors.
And that was the moment all hell broke loose.
Chapter 10
Like a covey of quail flushed from tall grass, otherworldly creatures resembling living gargoyles burst up from the fog in unison. The creatures flew haphazardly in all directions, flapping awkwardly with featherless wings. Maddix waved his sword reflexively at an escaping creature but missed. His sword ignited into flames during his wild follow-through, the flames painting a bright orange arc against the black sky.
Maddix spun all around looking for another target. He saw his friend Coleton Webb a few meters behind him. Webb swung his twin scimitars at one of the flying beasts, connecting with both blades. The ugly creature screamed an ear-splitting cry and tumbled back into the riverbed. Maddix hurried over to help Webb finish off the beast. He stabbed the creature in the back with his flaming sword, igniting the creature’s scaly flesh and wings.
Maddix nearly wretched when he viewed the creature up close. Small like an oversized child or dwarf, its deformed and hairless body made it look a little like Gollum from Tolkien’s masterpiece, The Lord of the Rings, only uglier and with wings. The wounded creature thrashed around on the ground in a desperate attempt to douse the flames. Vile obscenities gushed through jagged teeth and out its mouth.
“Since you don’t have anything good to say you won’t mind me silencing your tongue,” Maddix said and plunged his fiery sword into the creature’s gaping mouth, knocking out its misshapen teeth. The creature’s tongue began to sizzle like bacon but without the pleasant aroma. Maddix didn’t know how many of the flying creatures they rousted up from the riverbed, but their shrill cries—more like high-pitched squeals—echoed off the canyon walls and made their number sound like a legion.
Michael strode through the melee, dragging two of the kicking and screaming creatures by their scruffs. “Don’t let them escape! Not one is to go free! Slice off their wings and limbs!” Michael noticed Maddix searing the creature’s mouth with his sword. He strode over to him. “Do that to all of them, Andrew, including these. Set their tongues aflame. They’re using distress cries to reveal our position.”
Maddix pulled out his sword, and while Webb slashed off the creature’s four limbs with his scimitars, Maddix plunged his sword into the mouths of Michael’s captives, setting them aflame. As he pulled his sword free he noticed Vallen shooting arrows into the black sky in rapid-fire fashion, picking the flying creatures off one by one. They dropped out of the sky like wounded ducks over a marsh. Some of the other creatures attempted to fly off, but angels flew up after them and stopped them in midflight. The angels flung them back to the fog-shrouded ground, where Eleazar fought them, his sword flashing back and forth and slinging silvery-black blood in all directions.
Samson fought as well. He swung a Nephilim bone to stun the noisy creatures, and then ripped off their limbs with nothing but his brute strength as they lay incapacitated.
Maddix quickly moved toward the fallen, wishing to silence them. He didn’t know what the ugly creatures were, whether they were demons or not, but for sure he knew they were Teredel’s security system. Their shrill cries might as well have been klaxons, and acted as an alarm system.
Maddix was about to drive his sword into a creature’s face when he heard Webb shout out a warning. “Behind you, Mad Dog!” Maddix pivoted just in time to see one of the creatures flying toward him, gliding through the fog with its small wings outstretched, a dagger brandished in each hand. He swung his flaming sword at the incoming creature. His sword tip slashed across the flying creature’s chest. The creature screamed in pain and tumbled to the ground at Maddix’s feet.
From on its back the creature tried to stab Maddix’s ankles with its daggers. Maddix jumped up and backwards, at the same time he reverse-slashed his sword, decapitating the creature’s hands. The hands, still holding the daggers, cartwheeled through the fog.
War is gruesome business. Maddix took no pleasure in butchering the flying creatures, but he also didn’t feel any need to grant mercy. He believed he was on the right side of the battle and held the moral high ground. They were also the invading force, and had to maintain their element of surprise if they wanted to achieve their mission objective.
The handless creature glared up at Maddix and spewed obscenities, taking the Lord’s name in vain repeatedly. “You have a foul mouth,” Maddix said just before plunging his sword deeply into the creature’s cheek and holding it there, allowing the flames to melt the creature’s tongue into liquid goo. All around Maddix the skirmish continued until the last flying creature had been grounded and silenced.
Maddix didn’t know how long the massacre raged. He no longer operated on an earthly time continuum. Time means nothing to an immortal. But if he had to guess he would say twenty earthly minutes expired from the battle’s start to finish.
Michael stalked through the battleground. He inspected the riverbed and surrounding area, checking to make sure there were no creatures left capable of walking, flying or speaking. After a bit he stopped and flashed them more hand signals. They fell back into the diamond formation and continued their stealthy approach toward the stadium, their swords and cloaks covered in silvery-black blood, but no worse for wear.
Chapter 11
Los Angeles—the next day
Special Agent Nick Loomis heard a sharp rap on his cubicle wall. He looked up and saw his boss, William Trestman, standing there, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a folder in another. “Wrap up what you’re doing, Nick, I got a juicy new assignment for you,” Trestman said.
Loomis lifted his duty gun and holster from a chair so his boss could sit down. “Okay, you have good timing, Bill. I was just finishing a report, doing a spelling and grammar check on it.”
Trestman nodded and sat down. “I appreciate correct spelling and grammar.”
Loomis saved his work on his desktop computer and then turned his attention to his boss. “What have you got for me?”
Trestman opened his folder and handed Loomis a photograph.
“Wow, who is this big and ugly cowboy?”
“His name is Tucker Stiggs. He’s a freelance bounty hunter. Lately he’s been working for Skymolt. The thing about Stiggs is he rarely brings in the rebels alive. He’s a serial killer if you ask me.”
Loomis studied Stiggs’ mugshot, focusing on the man’s eyes. The blue eyes hid beneath a forehead as pronounced as a ship’s prow. Loomis had never seen eyes so freakish looking. The eyes were nearly transparent. “So what is my assignment, Bill?”
“We’ve been looking for Stiggs for a long time, since before the vanishings. We think he killed a family in Texas. He’s been laying low for some time now. But a security camera filmed him a few hours ago waitin
g in line to get on a ferry in Seattle. He’s apparently going to cross the Puget Sound and land in Bremerton. For what reason we don’t know for sure. But I suspect he’s going after a rebel on the Olympic Peninsula. There’s at least a dozen or so rebels living there. I want you to go after Stiggs. Find his vehicle and search it. See if you can find an address where he lives. We’d love to raid his house. I have search and arrest warrants for you to make this legal.”
“Do you have much of a case against Stiggs? Enough evidence to hold up in court?”
Trestman took a sip of coffee, and then nodded. “The killer left all kinds of DNA at the crime scene in Texas. A neighbor gave a description of a strange man staking out the house that matches Stiggs and his pickup truck. We just need to arrest Stiggs and take a DNA sample.”
“Am I working alone on this?”
“No, Nick, I wouldn’t do that to you. A special agent will meet up with you in Seattle.”
Loomis glanced at his boss’s face, his eyes drawn to the mark on his forehead. Loomis wished more than anything the mark on Trestman’s face was a believer’s mark, but it wasn’t. Loomis liked and respected his boss. Trestman was a virtuous man who loved to fight crime and uphold the law, a veteran lawman from way back. Too bad he belongs to Skymolt now, Loomis thought. “Do we have any ideas as to who Stiggs is after? If we can find his prey maybe we can set up an ambush for Stiggs.”
Trestman handed Loomis the folder. “There’s a sheet in there listing the rebels we think are holing up on the peninsula. The list also shows the bounty on each rebel’s head.”
Loomis found the sheet his boss referred to and perused the list. One name on the list jumped out at him. “I would say Stiggs is gunning for this Nathan Banks character. His bounty is way higher than everybody else’s. Do we have any intel on him?”
