At The Gates (Demon Squad)

by Tim Marquitz

  “It’s just over that way.” He pointed to the hills and trudged off. “Apparently, it’s not much of a secret.”

  Thinking that was too easy, despite Michael’s telepathic insistence, I went after him quick, my hand on my gun. Katon and Scarlett followed behind. In less than a minute, we crested the hill.

  Just on the other side, a barren patch of scrubby land stretched out before us. Weather worn, wooden posts lined an area about thirty feet square. Set at its center was a pile of gray stone slabs, raised to about three feet high. Wholly unimpressive, it didn’t give me much hope we were even at the right place, let alone that we’d find something.

  As we approached the ancient cenotaph, shapes appeared on the stones, carved in bas relief on their faces. The colors having long since dried and cracked off, the images blended into the stones, their edges worn away by time.

  Gently, I ran my hand across the nearest of the stones, clearing away the dust of centuries. The gritty sand fell away in little brown puffs, my confidence with it. Out in the open, with no barrier to defend it from the wind and rain, a number of the carvings had been smoothed to almost nothing. They were but whispers of what they’d once been.

  Katon and Michael joined me in dusting off the cenotaph, while Scarlett stood back, her lip curled up in a sneer. After just a few minutes, the stones were clear of clinging dirt, the images displayed in all their muted glory.

  The carvings abstract, made even more so by wear, they had no discernable pattern, their rhythm broken and scarred by centuries of weather. Unable to make heads or tails of what I was seeing, random biblical images abound, I circled the cairn examining what remained. As I stepped around to the right, my eyes lighted on a vague image set near the top of the stones. I ran my finger over it, clearing the remaining dirt from its face, believing I recognized it.

  Sudden context coming on like a light, I stepped to the back and smiled as another familiar figure stood out. Once more around the other side, everyone wondering what I was smiling about, I was rewarded with yet another carved representation I knew. Then returning the front, located as the others were, was one last carving that cleared my brain like a fart in a sauna; the gates of Eden.

  Having been known to be an idiot, I examined the cenotaph for any obvious signs of it being more than just a monument. After a few minutes, I was satisfied it wasn’t, the stones smooth and solid, leading me think my first instinct was right.

  The hunt was on. “Grab your fig leaves, kids. We’re gonna visit Mom.”

  Chapter Seven

  While all I had to go on was a hunch, it made sense…to me at least. So, after a short portal trip, Rachelle dropped us off in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia; the burial place of Eve.

  Night was settling in. Though doing little to stifle the overwhelming heat, it did cut down on the likelihood we’d be seen considering the cemetery we’d come to visit was set smack dab in the center of a residential area.

  The pockmarked street that ran alongside the cemetery entrance was quiet, its traffickers having long since returned to the safety of home. Dilapidated houses lined the block, their cracked and crumbling walls little different from the rows of tombs that lay in the cemetery across from them. Darkened windows faced the street like dead eyes, seeing nothing.

  In the distance beyond them, shadows of larger buildings loomed, their white tiled roofs standing out like the eyes of giants. A haunting male voice drifted through the air, a blanket of religious faith settling over the city.

  Scarlett glanced about, her eyes scanning the gloom as the voice droned on. “You sure about this?”

  I shook my head. “No, but it’s all I’ve got.” Adding together what Asmoday told me, and what I’d deduced from Cain’s cenotaph, our search options were pretty limited.

  However, common sense tells you, if you’re looking for a key to a house, you look to the people that live in it, right? In our case, it was more like lived. This particular house only ever had three people call it home: Adam and Eve—and Lilith.

  The representation of Lilith on Cain’s monument is what clued me in. Gone from Eden long before Cain had even been conceived and never a part of his life, there was no reason for her image to be on his cenotaph. There wasn’t any connection between them except that Lilith had once been married to Adam, and she had lived in Eden.

  Unfortunately though, thanks in part to me, Lilith was dead. There’d be no asking her about anything. Her body lay in cold storage at DRAC, and none of her personal belongings were there. Of course, Adam and Eve were also long gone, which posed its own problems. As the burial place of Adam has never been confirmed, that left us with Eve. We could only hope she’d been buried with her worldly possessions and the key was among them.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Scarlett muttered, darting across the potholed street.

  Katon followed her and sidled up to the battered, closed green metal doors as Michael and I raced to catch up.

  Unlike most cemeteries, this one wasn’t fenced in with big metal gates out front. The entrance was through a plain, dusty tan building, which circled around in both directions before finally resolving into rock walls that enclosed the rest. A small alcove up front gave us a place to hide as we waited to get inside.

  Katon fiddled with the simple lock while Scarlett looked away, trying to appear innocent as we actively broke into hallowed ground. She wasn’t doing a good job of it.

  Michael ran his hand over the light blue sign posted on the wall beside the entrance and chuckled low. “The mother of humanity is buried in a slum. How’s that for respect?”

  Scarlett turned on him, fire in her expression. “Did you expect something more from your people?” She didn’t wait for an answer, slipping through the door Katon had propped open.

  Michael feigned hurt, his hand on his heart, and went in behind her, chuckling quietly. Last, I slipped inside and eased the door shut.

  The mausoleum portion of the cemetery ran in a half circle around the edge of the property, the inner section opening up and leading to the common graves arrayed outside. The outer wall was stacked flush with plain marble tombs, three high. They seemed to run on forever, vanishing into a white blur as they curved with the building and disappeared into the darkness.

  Michael groaned. “None of them are marked. How are we going to find hers?”

  I waved him forward as I got as close to the crypts as I could. “Don’t worry, it’ll stand out.”

  Even dead and gone to ashes, Eve’s presence would still linger, a spiritual memory of times long past. It would be subtle, and we’d need to be close to sense it, but it’d be obvious in its uniqueness.

  As I moved along the lines of tombs, I gestured for Scarlett to follow my lead. Her senses far more sensitive than mine, she’d pick Eve’s footprint out if I missed it.

  We’d traveled about halfway around the circular mausoleum when there was a crash off in the distance, muted hisses following it. Like a choreographed dance move, all of us drew our weapons and crouched low. We crept forward, quietly frantic voices drifting to us through the marble corridor. As we drew closer, I saw about ten figures huddled in front of the wall of crypts. Small chunks of concrete were scattered about their feet. One of the figures loomed over the rest, her massive frame impossible to miss: Venai. Twigs and the behemoth were nowhere to be seen. They were probably off somewhere licking their wounds.

  Scarlett growled low in her throat when she saw the big woman and started forward. Katon and Michael followed her lead and flanked off to the left. No point in bothering to be slick with them rushing in, I went ahead and took the center track. We weren’t doing subtle.

  “Lose something, Venai? A key maybe?” I asked.

  The Nephilim jumped and spun about as one, eyes wide. Venai snarled when she saw me and limped away from the crowd in a hurry, drawing a blue symbol in the air. In an instant, she had a portal open and was through it and gone, leaving her buddies behind as it vanished. As I glanced over their pissed off fa
ces, they didn’t seem to mind she’d abandoned them. They were looking for a fight.

  So was Scarlett. Without a word, she dove at them. The Nephilim scattered before her. Two brilliant flashes and the closest of the group fell—more like flopped—to the floor looking like a morbid puzzle; the perfect gift for a mortician who’s got everything.

  Armed with a variety of weapons, the Nephilim pressed their number advantage. Unlike their pure-bred parents, they’d been amongst humanity long enough to value the effectiveness of a good gun.

  Bullets whined past us, their reports thunderous in the confined mausoleum. Michael returned fire, his left hand raised in the air, fingers spread out. He shimmered and became hazy, his image distorting and becoming unclear. Though I knew he hadn’t moved, it looked as though he were in ten places at once. Each reflection was a perfect copy of the first, but each appeared to be doing something different. It was confusing even for me.

  Katon, a fan of the up close and personal, waded into the crowd, his blade a silvered blur. Its poison an afterthought, DRAC’s enforcer cleaved his way through the Nephilim, his victims dead before the paralysis could even begin to take effect. After just a couple more, he and Scarlett would meet in the middle, the numbers already even.

  Not to be left out of a winning fight, I let my gun loose. One of the stragglers caught a few bullets to the face and dropped without a sound. Unfortunately, because of the Nephilim’s banished status, there wasn’t a soul transfer, their energies not transferring over to me at death.

  That sure didn’t stop me from tying to kill them though.

  I hit another just as Scarlett reached him, the shots whipping him into her blade. He went down in bloody heap, a patchwork of circles and squares—Live Action Tic-Tac-Toe.

  In just seconds, the fight was over. Scarlett stood above the carnage, her face splattered in red, blood dripping from her blade. Katon, the more graceful of the two, looked immaculate. Not a drop of blood stained his leather outfit or ruined the sparkle of his spikes as he surveyed the ruin of the Nephilim. Not a body in the bunch twitched.

  Michael came over and let loose a deep sigh. Not used to showing up until after the mess was made, he looked a little pale as he surveyed the scene. “You guys sure know how to handle yourselves.”

  “These are the runts of the litter,” I told him as I put my gun away. “They were sent to do the grunt work while the big boys wait by the gate to stake their claim.” My eyes went to the crypt they’d been tearing open, my senses drifting loose. I felt a tenuous tingle as they hit upon a gentle presence. “At least they made the searching part easy.”

  The marble face had been torn from the crypt and cast aside. Behind it was a wall of concrete, the tomb filled with it. The Nephilim had just started to chip away at the mass of concrete, jagged hunks broken loose and littering the floor.

  I looked around and spied a sledgehammer, sighing as I picked it up. “We should have waited a few minutes longer.”

  “I’ll watch the entrance,” Scarlett said as she headed off, no doubt offended by our intended grave robbery.

  Katon glanced from Scarlett to the crypt and back again, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He had it bad.

  While I’m the last person who should ever give advice regarding women, I couldn’t help myself. He looked lost, so unlike his normal self. “Go on, Katon, Mike and I have got this.”

  He stared at me a moment, then nodded, heading off after her. Once he was out of earshot, I turned to Michael. “She doesn’t even know he’s interested and he’s already whipped.”

  To the soundtrack of Michael’s throaty chuckle, I went to work. The hammer slammed into the concrete, shards flying as the sound reverberated through the room. Again and again I struck the concrete, cracks appeared and chunks crumbled away. After a few minutes, the concrete gave way and the hammer punched a hole in it, blackness appearing beyond. I knocked the hole bigger and peered inside.

  It took a second for my eyes to adjust, and when they did, my stomach sank. There was nothing inside the tomb but dust. If there’d ever been anything there, it had long ago been looted. No symbols or signs stood out against the gray walls to lead us to the key. Only the wispy tingle of Eve’s presence remained.

  “Fuck!” I growled, hammering furiously at the concrete, my one lead turning to shit. Slabs gave way under the onslaught and crashed to the floor. Michael stepped back to avoid the flying debris.

  I swung with intent, adrenaline and anger fueling my attack. The hammer plowed through the last few feet of concrete, showering me in dust and gray rock.

  “Frank!”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Katon staring at me, his eyes narrow and red. Distracted, my swing went wild and smacked into the marble plate of the crypt above Eve’s. It broke loose of its moors and fell to my feet, shattering with a loud crack.

  Katon stormed over. “Can you be any louder?”

  “Probably.” I shrugged, motioning to the tomb. “It’s empty.”

  He growled and looked past me, shaking his head. Taking the hammer from my hand and tossing it aside, he stepped over the wreckage on the floor and peered into Eve’s tomb. Grunting, he then stretched and leaned into the crypt I’d accidentally opened.

  After a moment, he sighed and stepped away, brushing the dust from his jacket. “There’s nothing but a bone in the top one.”

  His words stuck in my ears, tickling my brain.

  “A bone? Just one?” Michael asked as he came over to us, apparently catching the same vibe as me.

  Katon nodded as I stepped past him, peeking into the crypt. My heart fluttered when I saw the ivory white thigh bone that lay inside. Untouched by time, the bone stood out from its gray surroundings, everything else withered away. I snatched it up and felt my senses tingle at the contact. The Nephilim had opened the wrong crypt.

  “This is Eve.” I held the bone out for them to see.

  Scarlett returned right then and glanced at the bone before averting her eyes, but nothing could hide the smile on her face.

  “So, this is the key to Eden?” Michael asked.

  I thought about it for a second, then shook my head. “I don’t think it’s all of it.”

  Scarlett snapped her head around. “What? We desecrated a grave, Eve’s no less, and you’re telling us this isn’t the key.” Her words were a hurricane, stinging spray and bluster.

  “I didn’t say that, and technically, I desecrated a grave, well…two if you want to be picky.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “Asmoday told me Cain chose not to seek the key because he felt the cost was too high for his conscience to bear.”

  “As the key is clearly the bone of his mother, I can see why he thought that,” she argued.

  “Then why would his family put Lilith and Adam on the monument?”

  “Because it’s all three,” Michael answered, catching on to what I was getting at.

  I nodded. “That’s the most likely presumption.” Katon said nothing as Scarlett started in again. I waved her quiet. “If it were just one of the three he needed, Cain could have gone after Lilith. Given that he intended to beg for forgiveness for what he’d done, the last thing he’d want to do is murder his parents on the way to God’s house. However, as Lilith was persona non grata in Heaven, mixing it up down under, Cain could have gotten away with killing her, perhaps even been rewarded for it.”

  Scarlett grumbled and looked to Katon. He met her gaze and nodded as he followed the line of logic. She stuck her bottom lip out and stayed quiet. She just liked to argue.

  “If we’re right, this gives us a big advantage,” I said.

  “Because we have Lilith in cold storage back at DRAC,” Michael finished my thought.

  “Exactly. Now all we need to do is figure out which bone is the one we need and we’ve got two of the three.”

  “How are we going to do that,” Scarlett asked.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure, but we’ll fig—” The loudspeaker blare of
a telepathic connection tore through my head. Judging by the pained look on everyone’s face, they were receiving the same message.

  Abraham’s voice broke in through the shrieking static. “Rachelle is coming to get you. DRAC has been attacked!”

  Chapter Eight

  The carnage was absolute.

  We arrived in the middle of it. Blood pooled on the floor, thick and black. The air was pungent, the slaughtered meat stench of an abattoir. Crimson dripped from the ceiling in a fetid rain, the walls painted in claret. Pieces of DRAC security and office personnel were scattered in a macabre display, recognizable only by the remnants of their uniforms. There’d be no identifying these bodies.

  Scarlett took one look and scurried through the shattered front doors. While no stranger to death, or the blood and guts that came with it, she knew these people had died because of what was going on in Heaven. Knowing her, she felt responsible.