“Oh, no,” he muttered. “Not now.”
Inexplicably, the flying demon evaded fire from the gunships, the snipers, and the grenadiers. Jeremiah watched helplessly as it swooped down to the roof of the mansion, grabbed one of his snipers, and flew away. The helicopters stopped and turned around. They had, perhaps, come to the same conclusion that Jeremiah had. That sniper was a lost cause one way or the other, and if the demon took the choppers away, it would leave Jeremiah vulnerable to a more devastating attack.
Jeremiah pulled out his walkie-talkie and called to the roof. “How did that just happen?”
“I don’t know, sir,” the commanding sniper’s voice replied shakily. “We just couldn’t hit it. Everything we shot at it was deflected by something. It took Fenton, sir.”
“Yes, I saw that. Do you have any idea why?”
“None, sir.”
“There’s nothing that can be done for him now,” Jeremiah concluded coldly. “You’d better just work on getting everyone else out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Perplexed, Jeremiah turned and scanned the horizon for answers. Why had that demon taken one of his snipers? And why did it feel like Lucifer was nearby? This was clearly a bad thing, but he wasn’t sure how yet.
***
Abbie could see another light down the tunnel. It seemed to be headed in her direction. A little perturbed that anyone would have the gall to backtrack into a war zone, she sighed heavily and forced herself to remain pleasant.
“You’re going the wrong way,” she called down the tunnel.
“Abbie?” Marla’s voice answered.
“Marla, you’re supposed to be leading the people to safety.”
Marla huffed defensively. “I couldn’t leave this tunnel without making sure you were okay. So much has been lost already.”
Abbie’s flashlight now completely revealed Marla, and she was visibly relieved.
The Elder Prophet laughed. “Relax, Marla. I’m not easy to kill. Nevertheless, I do appreciate your concern. We’re not in the clear yet, though. We must make haste to catch up with the crowd. I know Nagina will need our help with all of those people. And I won’t rest until all of our people are safely on planes to Kingstone. Then, we shall assess what we have lost today.”
Marla nodded understandingly, and the two continued walking toward the exit. However, Abbie began walking so quickly that Marla almost had to jog to keep up. After they passed the last place Marla remembered walking by before, she informed Abbie that they were a little over halfway there. Nagina and the leaders of the crowd would probably have just reached the exit.
“I’m sorry, Marla,” Abbie said, “but I’m afraid we’ll have to move faster. I had hoped we would catch them before they got to the end. Something isn’t right, and we need to be there. I need to be there.”
“Do you know what’s wrong?”
“Something wicked this way comes,” Abbie replied.
“All right,” Marla conceded with a tired smile. “If Dr. Abigail Martin tells me we’ve got to run, then we’ve got to run.”
Abbie smiled too, and the two of them took off running in the only direction the tunnel went, straight ahead. Abbie again outpaced Marla, though. As Marla struggled to keep up, she grinned, thinking how she had been a decorated track star throughout high school and college, but at the moment she was having a really difficult time keeping up with a woman four centuries old.
***
Metatron scowled as he watched Iblis walk into the camp with several demons and a mortal in tow. From his desert base of operations, a mile from Jeremiah’s mansion to the south, Metatron had been able to follow the battle’s progress well. He had no idea what Iblis would have to say to him that would be important enough to breach all manners of protocol and leave his post, but he had put his very life in danger to deliver the message personally.
The five approaching demons knelt and bowed their heads. Iblis pulled the mortal, stricken with terror, to the ground and forced him to do the same.
“This has got to be good,” Metatron growled at his commander.
Demons from all over the camp started gathering to see if they were all about to get a promotion due to Iblis suddenly losing his life. Defying the will of Metatron and abandoning one’s post had never in the past delivered healthy results.
“This mortal is one of Jeremiah’s snipers,” Iblis responded, rising to his feet, “and he has information that I thought you would want directly. It seems the prophets are escaping as we speak.”
Metatron’s head tilted slightly to the left. His eyes closed, and all of the demons around them stopped what they were doing and gave this scene their undivided attention. Many believed these to be the final moments of Iblis’s life.
“What does the mortal know?” Metatron asked calmly.
“The prophets were all summoned to a location in the east wing of the mansion,” Iblis said. “There, they must have used a tunnel to move the humans and prophets. We’ve been watching all other feasible exits and have seen no one leave.”
“A tunnel?”
“Yes. I have demons and mortals scouring the surrounding area, looking for anything that might suggest an escape. Wherever they’re going will have to have enough vehicles to get them away. It shouldn’t take too long to find.”
Metatron’s eyes opened. He walked up to Charlie, grasped the sides of the sniper’s head, and tilted it back until their eyes met.
“Where are they going?” he asked.
Charlie’s mouth opened, as if he were about to respond—probably with some kind of denial, but no words came out. The question was not meant to be answered audibly. Charlie’s body convulsed, and his mouth foamed, while Metatron burned through every thought and memory in the sniper’s head, discarding anything that did not help. He wasn’t gentle. In fact, Metatron savagely ripped the mortal’s mind apart until he found what he was looking for.
Dropping the twitching body to the desert floor, he smiled at his commander. “This task was simple enough. You could have solved this little puzzle without my help. He was a sniper; he was on top of Jeremiah’s roof the whole time. He had a great view of the surrounding area. Did it ever occur to you that, if you would have dug a little deeper in his mind, you would have gotten the answer?”
Iblis deflated a little and bowed his head. “No, Master.”
Metatron stared for a long time at one of the demons before speaking again. “You are the one who brought this mortal to our attention, are you not? Your name is Zelok.”
“Yes, Master,” the other demon replied humbly.
“Were you ordered to do so?”
“No, Master. I just felt that it was important.”
“You felt?”
“Yes. Something compelled me to capture that mortal in particular.”
Metatron looked to his feet. “And nothing seemed strange about that?”
“At the time, I was focused on the battle,” Zelok replied, a little uneasily at the line of questioning. “Whatever feeling I had was as natural to me as if it had been one of my own. For some reason, this mortal caught my eye. And before I knew it, I was moving in his direction.”
“You didn’t realize what was happening or whom you were capturing until you were en route?”
“No, sir.”
“Thank you, Zelok,” Metatron said with a slight bow. “You, and the others who came with you, may return to the battle. I must speak with Iblis in private.”
The four demons who had come with Iblis rose, bowed, and left. Metatron motioned for Iblis to come closer, and the commander did as he was bid. After several seconds that seemed like eternities, Metatron spoke with scorn and contempt.
“Iblis, as long as I have to keep doing everything for you, I’m never going to advance you. Take fifteen of your demons due north of the mansion about half a mile. There, you will find four buses waiting on a dirt road to pick up the cowards. Kill anyone you find there, and ambush the prophets when they arrive.”
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“I’m not going to attack the mansion?” Iblis asked, taken aback.
“No. I don’t think you would be very effective against Jeremiah. Having grown weary of this fiasco, I’m implementing a change in plans. Besides, it is clear now that you are completely outclassed. I suppose I will have to take it from here. Go, now, and do what I have commanded.”
Iblis bowed wordlessly and turned to walk away.
“And have Zelok killed,” Metatron added as a side thought, “...quietly.”
Iblis stopped abruptly, struck by the callousness of Metatron’s words. “Master?”
“Now would not be a good time for questions,” Metatron replied quietly. “Just do as I say.”
Iblis shrugged his shoulders and continued walking. Metatron was scared of something, and Iblis only hoped he could find some way to exploit that fear. Perhaps he would ask Zelok a few probing questions before finishing him off. Or, if whatever was in Zelok’s head was valuable enough, maybe Iblis would keep him around—but out of sight—until something useful could be done with him. But first, there were prophets to be killed.
***
For five minutes there had been silence. Jeremiah didn’t like it. Ever since that sniper had been taken, the attack had ceased. He hadn’t prepared for this. Jeremiah knew the demons would try to capture or kill him. He thought they would probably charge the mansion in search of prophets, but he didn’t think they would take much more than a passing interest in one of the mortals. He couldn’t see any reason for it.
It had to be related to the sensation of Lucifer, but Jeremiah couldn’t imagine how. Only he, Marla, and two others were aware of the trucks, so that couldn’t be it. The only other surprise Jeremiah had intended for Metatron was a lack of prophets.
Jeremiah pulled the walkie-talkie out of his pocket. “Has everyone been evacuated?” he asked into it.
“Almost, sir,” the commanding sniper replied. “Only those of us manning the roof still remain.”
“Good. Did that sniper, Fenton, ever go inside the mansion after I stationed you all on the roof?”
There was a telling pause before the reply. “Yes, sir. He had to...defecate.” The commander quickly added, “But he was back before the fighting started.”
Jeremiah’s head dropped. He immediately deduced what had happened. The sniper had heard Marla’s intercom announcement or had run into a fleeing prophet or mortal. Lucifer managed to leak information to Metatron about the prophets’ escape in such a way that it wouldn’t look obvious. That way, he could rid himself of many enemies without having to waste any of his own resources. It was brilliant, really.
Jeremiah didn’t think that the demons would find the tunnel’s exit, but if they found the buses, it wouldn’t take them long to figure out what they were there for. He would have to use everything he had, and it still might not be enough.
He put the radio back to his mouth. “Get out. Get everyone else as far away from here as you can. Signal the choppers to leave as well. Don’t look back. I will have to stop them now.”
“Understood, sir,” the officer replied without question.
“Kemuel, come to me,” Jeremiah commanded.
In moments, Jeremiah was surrounded with the buzzing of all kinds of insects, trying to suck his blood, bite, or sting him. They seemed angry, and he knew why.
“You said that I could attack Metatron first,” the buzzing protested before Jeremiah could even get a word out.
“I know that,” Jeremiah agreed. “But I am going to have to change things slightly. You see--”
“I know; I know,” the insects buzzed in his ear. “You fear for your prophet friends, but you can’t leave because Metatron might come.”
“You don’t want to be here when he gets here anyway,” Jeremiah told the cloud of insects. “Besides, think of how good it will look to the Big Guy if you actually save his followers. That’s called insurance. I know you’ve been away for a while, but it’s a good thing.”
“What if Metatron sends all of his demons to kill the prophets?” Kemuel asked. “I presume you intend to send all of us, and not just me, but the six of us would hardly be adequate defense.”
“He won’t,” Jeremiah replied confidently. “I am his primary target, not the prophets. He will use them as leverage against me, but he and the majority of his demons will come here.”
“All the more reason for us to stay. You said we were your best hope to kill Metatron so your savior wouldn’t even have to encounter him.”
Jeremiah shook his head. “There’s no time to argue; the prophets will need your help. There are two Elder Prophets in the group. Tell them that I sent you. They know that I have been recruiting rogue demons. If there’s anything left after I’m done, you can return to kill it, but not before then.”
“How will we know when you’re done?”
“You’ll know.”
Grudgingly, the cloud of pests dissipated and headed back to the front yard where, presumably, the other rogue demons awaited orders. When the other demons left, only Jeremiah would remain. He’d sent the prophets, mercenaries, and now rogue demons away. It was almost poetic that he would stand alone against this horde, yet still destroy many of them.
He stood where he was and waited for the storm. Within three minutes, he got exactly what he wanted. He could feel demonic presences all around him. Metatron was coming hard and fast with everything he had.
Good, Jeremiah thought. It’s time for this to end.
***
By the time Marla started to see people up ahead, she was completely winded. Abbie was single-minded and didn’t even slow as Marla fell farther and farther behind.
“Wait!” Abbie called to them. “Everyone stay in the tunnel.”
The prophets who recognized Abbie’s voice started herding everyone away from the exit. Abbie wasn’t sure if some had already gotten out, but she hoped Nagina had felt what she had: demons—a lot of demons, and they were nearby. She rushed through the crowd as best as she could. She realized, as she passed through the throng, that almost everyone was still accounted for. When she saw Nagina standing next to the exit, talking to three other prophets, she was relieved. Of course Nagina would not have let them just walk into a trap; she was an Elder Prophet, after all.
“You feel them?” she inquired of Abbie upon her arrival.
“Yes. What are your plans?”
Nagina smiled. “My plan was to wait for you.”
“Well,” Abbie decided, also grinning, “the mortals have no reason to leave the relative safety of this tunnel.”
Nagina nodded. “Agreed.”
“But none of us can stay here indefinitely. There are almost fifty prophets with us, two Elder Prophets. I will go out first with ten prophets, just in case any of the demons are hiding close by, beyond my perception. We’ll scout the area. You follow five minutes behind with the rest of the prophets. I’ll try to send word before then if you shouldn’t. The mortals should wait until we come back to get them. Marla can keep them calm.”
At that moment, Marla pushed her way to the head of the crowd. “I heard my name.”
“Nagina will fill you in,” replied Abbie. Then, to the crowd, she called, “I need ten prophet volunteers to go with me into a dangerous situation. I am sure that there are demons in the vicinity, and we need to neutralize the threat if we can.”
For moments, no one moved. Then, slowly, prophets—mostly men—walked toward the front. Seventeen eventually made their way to the front. Smiling, Abbie directed the last seven to stay with Nagina, assuring them that their services would still be needed.
At Abbie’s behest, one of the stronger-looking prophets climbed up the ladder toward the exit. It required muscle to crank the wheel that unlocked the exit cover. After doing so, he pushed it open, revealing the night sky. Abbie proceeded up the ladder after him and told the nine other prophets who were going with her to do the same.
As soon as she reached the top, Abbie sent her min
d in all directions, seeking out anything that could be a threat. She felt demons close, but they weren’t in the immediate area. She helped the others out of the exit and signaled for them all to come close to her.
She pointed to the east. “There are demons in that direction,” she whispered. “Unfortunately, I think our getaway vehicles are probably in that direction too.”
“Do you know how many of them there are?” one of the bigger guys asked.
Abbie shook her head. “I would have to get closer to find out.”
“I would be honored to go with and protect you,” he said chivalrously. “I’ve fought a few demons in my time.”
“Yes,” she said, “I know you have. Sam Malone, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Dr. Martin.”
“Please, call me Abbie. I met you in San Francisco, didn’t I?”
“That’s right,” Sam concurred enthusiastically.
“Shh,” Abbie commanded. “I would enjoy the company, Sam,” she whispered, “but we’ll have to be very quiet. Some demons have very keen senses. I can block them feeling us, but I can’t make us silent.”
“Understood,” Sam whispered.
“All right,” she said, looking to the others, “the rest of you wait here. If it looks or sounds like things are going badly, call for Nagina and the other prophets. My hope is that Sam and I can just go see what we’re up against and come back without having to engage any demons by ourselves.”
They all nodded in agreement, and Abbie and Sam struck off in the direction of the demonic feeling. A couple minutes later, about the time Sam could distinctly sense the demons, Abbie stopped them.
“At least ten,” she whispered, answering his earlier question, “maybe fifteen, and there are more on the way.”
Sam looked at her, stunned. “Can we do anything about that many demons?”
“You and I can’t.”
“Could all of the prophets here?” he insisted.
“We’ll have to,” she replied, “for the sake of the mortals if not ourselves. I need you to go back and tell the other prophets what we’ve discovered. Make sure Nagina knows how many. I plan to simply see how they’re set up and join you shortly. Tell everyone to wait for my signal.”
Legends (To Absolve the Fallen Book 3) Page 11
