by Mel Odom
She lost only a moment as she uploaded the new programming she’d prepared to Simon’s suit. The bar raced across her HUD. She hoped he lived through the hellstorm that had opened up on the moat bridge.
“Wertham,” Leah called.
“Yes.”
“We’re under attack. We need you now.”
“On my way,” the old Templar said.
Stepping away from the underbelly of the bridge, Leah unlimbered her Cluster Rifle and took aim at the demon. Her finger settled on the trigger at the same time she saw the second demon streaking in on a pair of bat wings with a green trident clutched in its hands.
Leah recognized the demon and the weapon from the attack on the train four years ago. Merihim. Command had been interested in how he’d arrived in the world since the reports mentioned that he hadn’t arrived through the Hellgate. They’d tried to keep tabs on the demon over the years, but it was almost impossible.
She shifted her sights and took aim on Merihim’s broad chest, realizing only then that the wings were new.
* * * *
“AI back online. Going into protective mode.”
The feminine voice was music to Simon’s ears. Despite the pain he was in, despite the fact that Booth’s men surrounded him and a pair of demons had appeared on the bridge, he felt joyous.
The helmet closed over his head as the armor powered up. Strength returned to him. He snapped the shackles that bound his hands behind his back and reached for the chain around his neck.
“Medical assistance required,” the suit’s AI said. “Suggest emergency repairs under full sedation.”
“Negative,” Simon countermanded, his broken jaw screaming with pain over the effort required. “I’m in hostile territory and need to be functional.” He gripped the chain, stepped forward to flip the slack around the Templar that had held him prisoner, set himself and called for foot anchors. When the anchors were embedded in the bridge, he twisted his body and yanked.
The Templar spun through the air at the end of the chain. His Spike Bolter dropped as he grabbed for the chain. Then Simon released the chain to fling the Templar toward the River Thames. He caught the Spike Bolter in his left hand and turned back to the demon on the bridge.
“There are other Templar around you,” the suit’s AI informed him. “They can take responsibility for your safety.”
“Negative.” Simon squeezed the trigger and palladium spikes shredded demon flesh. “Do whatever medical procedures necessary, but keep me functional.”
“Understood. Stand by to set jaw.”
Before Simon could say no, the helmet’s interior shifted as the nanofluid flowed and pulsed to realign his face. His jaw shifted and the pain dropped him to his knees. Just before he passed out, the suit AI opened up the full range of medical supplements.
Epinephrine pumped through his system. His nose started clearing as the swelling was reduced. He tasted blood at the back of his throat and knew he was swallowing it, but there wasn’t anywhere else for it to go. The suit would also make sure he was pumped full of anti-nausea meds as well.
Then, blessedly, the pain started to fade too.
“Stop him!” Booth screamed. “Don’t let him get away!”
Simon had no intention of getting away. He stepped toward the first Templar who came at him and delivered a roundhouse kick that caught the man in the midsection and knocked him from the bridge.
Danielle waded into the thick of things as well, striking out against the Templar as she tried to make her way to Simon. She was a wraith among the Templar, one of the best unarmed fighters Simon had ever seen. Her hands punched like piledrivers and her knees and feet flew in rapid strikes. Booth’s men couldn’t equal her.
She stripped a sword from one of the Templar before she heaved him over the side of the bridge. Turning, she threw the sword to Simon.
“Catch!” she cried.
Recognizing the blade as his own, Simon swapped hands with the Spike Bolter and caught his sword by the hilt. Firing steadily at the demon standing on the bridge, he advanced on the creature with his sword.
* * * *
Warren turned, trying desperately to keep Fulaghar locked on the bridge, then saw the demon stepping from the rift beside him.
Nine feet tall and wiry, Toklorq had four arms twice as long as his body and an eye on every side of his head. If there was a mouth, Warren couldn’t find it. The demon was covered in bronze and orange scales. The arms were more like tentacles. They whipped out to seize Warren.
Warren tried to slip away, but couldn’t. The arms wrapped around him and started squeezing so hard he couldn’t breathe. His vision started to turn black, but he tried to hold Fulaghar.
“Let Fulaghar go,” the voice advised.
The fear Warren had of Merihim wouldn’t allow that, though. He struggled to maintain his hold.
“Warren!” Naomi yelled from back at his sanctuary.
She pulled at him with her power, trying to get him back through a rift.
Warren turned her efforts aside.
“You’re going to die!” the voice said.
Warren knew it was true. He could already feel himself slipping over the side, and there was nothing to stop the express elevator down once he went.
* * * *
Leah squeezed the trigger and felt the Cluster Rifle surge against her shoulder as it fired a missile at the center of Merihim’s chest. Some sixth sense warned the demon, though, and he rolled over on his side to let the projectile slide harmlessly by.
He pointed the trident at her. That surprised her because the camouflage ability was still juicing the suit.
Leah saw a mild distortion leave the tines of the trident, then the distortion turned wild and was upon her. The force blew her backwards, and she just knew she’d come apart.
* * * *
In his HUD, Simon saw the shimmering force leave Merihim’s trident and strike… something. He had to guess that it was Leah. He called her name but didn’t get a response.
He wanted to go to her, but he didn’t even know where the demon’s blast had knocked her. She was still invisible to his sensors. He checked for blood, but didn’t see any of that either. If she’d been hurt or killed, her suit was still holding together.
Instead, he concentrated on the demon on the bridge. That one at least was within range.
The demon threw a hand out. Flames jetted over Simon and raised the suit’s external temperature to smoldering in a heartbeat. By then Simon was on the creature. The palladium spikes from the Spike Bolter weren’t doing much damage. The demon was healing too quickly.
Simon drew his sword back, it too wreathed in flames from the demon’s attack, and swung. The blade cleaved toward the demon’s head, but then Merihim’s trident was there.
“No!” the demon roared in his raucous voice. Merihim kicked Simon in the face and sent him skidding back across the bridge.
Forty-Eight
Just before he lost consciousness, Warren released his hold on Fulaghar and turned his full attention to Toklorq.
“Die, human!” Toklorq hissed. His intelligence didn’t seem to be quite on a par with Fulaghar’s other two minions. But he was easily as deadly.
Warren pictured a sword in his mind, then built it out of the arcane energy he controlled. With a quick thrust, he shoved it into Toklorq’s head. The skull exploded and eyeballs shot in all directions. Some of them plopped against Warren.
Dead, the demon fell backwards as its tentacles lost all control.
Wheezing, barely able to suck air into his lungs, Warren collapsed on top of the Middle Tower. Then he remembered Fulaghar.
When he turned around, Warren saw Fulaghar leap up at Merihim, who was still flying. Both demons hung in the air and became targets for Templar fire.
You witless, gutless fool! Merihim exploded. We had him beaten!
Terror flooded Warren’s veins when he thought of the demon’s wrath. He tried to catch hold of Fulaghar again, but his
efforts were too weak and were too easily turned aside.
Instead, seeing the Templar in the moat, Warren awakened the dead in the nearby graveyards and called out to them. Then he reached for the dead that he felt in the bed of the moat. Some of them were new, but some of them had been there a long time.
All of them came.
* * * *
When Leah came back to herself, she was lying flat on her back. Recalling the blast that had hit her, she didn’t know how she could still be whole. She relaxed enough to force a breath into her paralyzed lungs.
The readout on her HUD showed that she was intact and able to move.
Then skeleton arms reached up from the dried mud under her and wrapped around her head. She tried to break away, but more joined the first and held her tightly.
In the next moment, a skull popped up and lunged at her throat. Thankfully the armor held for the moment.
“Wertham,” she radioed.
“Almost there,” the old Templar replied. “Hold on.”
Holding on wasn’t the problem, though. Getting held was. Leah struggled against her undead captors.
* * * *
“Oh my God.”
Hearing Danielle’s exclamation, Simon forced himself to his feet. Despite the meds in his system, he was starting to fade quickly. The artificial vigor could last only so long.
He glanced at the sky where the two demons fought, thinking that was what had caused Danielle’s consternation. Then he noticed the hills around them were filled with undead corpses that were converging on the moat. Even more of them were crawling up from the moat bed.
They were surrounded.
Then Simon heard Leah call for Wertham and wondered where the old Templar might be. He’d sounded close enough.
“Nathan,” Simon said when he got a lock on the Templar down in the moat. Other Templar, all of them Booth’s men, fought against the undead that came up from the moat.
“I’m here, Simon,” Nathan replied. “Bloody hell. These things are everywhere.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Danielle said. “I think Anne Boleyn and William Hastings just climbed out of their graves this morning to kick your arse.”
“They’ll have to stand in line.” Nathan swung his sword and shattered two skeletons directly in his face. But there were plenty more where those came from.
“Wertham,” Leah called again.
Simon scanned the moat and found a cluster of skeletons that looked like they were fighting themselves. Then every now and again he got a glimpse of Leah’s armor. Once he saw her in motion, he saw all of her because the camouflage function couldn’t keep up with all her movements.
“We’re here,” Wertham declared.
Suddenly Simon was aware of jet turbines overhead. When he looked up, he saw a sleek attack helicopter complete with nose turret guns and door gunners. A grin pulled at Simon’s face when he realized Wertham must have raided one of the abandoned military air bases to get the helicopter.
The gunners aboard the aircraft opened fire at once. They connected their online systems with the Templar armor and picked discriminate targets in rapid-fire sequence. The HARP and Greek Fire rounds slammed into the undead in the moat and turned them into calcium confetti.
Evidently Wertham had upgraded the weapons systems aboard the helicopter.
Turning his attention back to the demons battling in mid-air, Simon lifted his Spike Bolter and fired continuously into both of them. In seconds both demons were bleeding profusely.
“Wertham,” Simon called, as he continued firing.
“Simon,” Wertham replied jubilantly. “Good to know you’re still among the living.”
“Celebrate later,” Simon said. “Kill demons now. See the two in the air?”
“Yes.”
“Take them out.” Simon looked around and spotted Professor Macomber cowering on the ground several feet back. Evidently he’d made quite a bit of distance crawling when no one was watching.
“Did you see all the undead making their way toward you?” Wertham asked.
“Yes.”
“You need to evacuate.”
“I know. See if you can take out those demons.” Simon ran back to Macomber. The drain on Simon’s system was getting worse. Despite the exoskeleton, he felt himself getting rubber-legged.
He caught up to the professor and guarded him with his body.
“Stay with me, Professor,” Simon said. “We’ll have you out of here in just a moment.”
“What about Booth and his men?” Danielle asked.
“I’d leave them to rot, mate,” Nathan replied.
“I can’t,” Simon said. “Wertham, is there room?”
“We have room.”
The helicopter came around and the nose turret belched a massive Greek Fire shell at the demons. It missed Merihim, though, and got the other one full-on.
The stricken demon dropped to the ground down in the moat and didn’t move again.
“Nooooooo!” Merihim screamed in fury. He flapped his wings and sped away. Two more rounds exploded in the air in his wake and rained down fire.
The helicopter juked around and tried to bring the fleeing demon into target acquisition again. Before it had a chance, four flying demons swung to the attack.
“Incoming!” Nathan yelled. “You’ve got four bogeys on your tail!”
“We’ve got them,” Wertham replied.
The specially made helicopter spun around and brought all guns to bear. Two of the demons blew apart, but the other two slammed against the reinforced nose and hung there by their feet. They hammered their fists against the nose until the surface cracked under their assault.
One of the Templar eased out on the skids with a Blaze Pistol. Once he could reach around the nose, he squeezed the trigger and set both demons afire. They jumped ship and flew away, but there were already more circling the sky.
“If we’re going to get out of here, now would be the time,” Wertham said. “We’re going to be drawing demons from all across London. This thing should be able to out-fly most of them, but if it breaks and we have to walk back, none of us are going to care for that.”
“Bring it down,” Simon ordered. “I’ve got Professor Macomber with me. I want him protected.”
“Affirmative.”
* * * *
Helplessly, full of dread, Warren watched as Merihim wheeled back toward him.
“You’ve got to get out of here,” the voice in the back of his head said.
Warren tried, but he couldn’t get his feet under him. “Naomi.”
“I’m trying, Warren,” she said. “I need you to help me.
Struggling, Warren concentrated but couldn’t make the connection. Then Merihim landed in front of him hard enough to jar the rooftop.
You failed me, the demon seethed. I didn’t kill Fulaghar. The Templar did. His death doesn’t mean anything.
“His position still opens up, doesn’t it?” Warren asked, trying to back away from the demon. “That’s all you were after.”
No. It doesn’t. But yours is going to. Merihim gestured and another rift opened in the air.
A female Cabalist decked out in horns and a tail and covered in tattoos stepped onto the rooftop. She looked at Warren in disgust.
“He didn’t even try to make himself over in your image,” the woman said.
You can be everything for me that I wanted and needed, Merihim said. His gift is yours for the asking.
“I’ll take it.” The woman held up her right hand.
In a rush, Warren understood what they were talking about. He tried to push away, tried to reach out to Naomi. But he was too afraid. “Help me,” he called out to the voice. “Please.”
“He cowers,” the woman said.
Merihim whipped his arm and his claws slashed through the woman’s forearm. Her hand fell away from her arm. Miraculously not a drop of blood spilled.
The demon reached for Warren’s hand—the one Merihi
m had given him—and grasped it around the wrist.
With a pulling twist, the demon ripped the hand away from Warren and shoved it onto the woman’s stump. Merihim waved his hand over the transplant and it was healed almost immediately.
Warren felt jealous when he remembered how long it had taken him to heal after Naomi’s Sept had decided to experiment on him. Then agonizing pain shot up his stump, through his shoulder, and exploded into his head. The demon reached for his head, claws extended.
In that moment, mercifully, Warren felt Naomi take hold of him and pull him back. And he blacked out.
* * * *
“Booth,” Simon roared across the intervening distance as Wertham brought the helicopter down toward them.
Booth turned around to face Simon and lifted his pistol. “I should kill you right now, Cross. You’re a jinx, and you’re constantly pulling us into this war with the demons.”
Simon resisted the impulse to lift his pistol. He doubted Booth’s pistol could penetrate his armor even at the short range.
“The war is already here,” Simon said. “It’s not going to go away just because you hide from it.”
“Don’t you get it?” Booth asked. “Why haven’t you gotten it through that thick skull of yours? The war is already over.”
Despite the undead closing in around him, Simon was confused. “What are you talking about?”
“The war with the demons,” Booth said. “It’s over. We lost.”
“No. We’re just getting started. That’s why Lord Sumerisle sacrificed all the Templar at the Battle of All Hallows’ Eve. To buy us time.”
“Time? Time for what? So we can die more slowly?”
Simon didn’t say anything.
“You’re an idiot,” Booth exploded. “Lord Sumerisle led those Templar into battle thinking that was going to be the end of it. They expected to rout the demons and throw them out of this world. They didn’t believe for a second that they were going to have their heads handed to them.”
“That’s not true,” Simon said. The story that had been told for four years was an important one. The sacrifice of the Templar was a tale of respect and honor.
