In response, a slow, soft, gentle hum began to rise in the air around them, forcing Cade to listen closely to be certain he was hearing it. It grew steadily louder, the pitch rising, until it filled the room around them and made Cade want to cover his ears to escape it.
And still it grew, rising in volume, until the very sound buffeted Cade where he stood.
“Do you remember what a group of angels is called, Baraquel?” He had to shout to be heard over the rising shriek filling the air around them, growing louder and stronger with every passing second. “A scream. A group of angels is called a scream.”
The sound built and built and built again, rising higher and higher, louder and more piercing until it forced Cade to his knees. Behind him, having ignored his order to leave, the men of Echo collapsed to the ground, their hands over their ears as they tried to block out the rising wail.
Silence fell and in the suddenness of its arrival, they were there. Seven of them, seven being the perfect number, seven bright and shining forms, so full of God’s glory that they were difficult to look upon, their very presence overwhelming to the senses. The men of Echo squeezed their eyes shut, unable and unwilling to look into the faces of such glory.
All but Cade.
They had come when he’d called, had answered a man who until recently had sworn that he would no longer worship a God that let his beloved bride die in so horrible a manner. They had heard and responded to the true voice of his heart, the voice that knew that no matter what sins he had committed in the past or what might happen to him and his companions in this midst of this confrontation, this evil could not be allowed to walk amongst men, could not be allowed to work its twisted hopes and dreams on the unsuspecting populace the Templars were sworn to protect.
They had come and Cade understood instinctively that it was his duty to watch and record what happened here today, to keep the record straight for any and all who might have need of it in the future.
Baraquel shrieked his rage and fury at the appearance of his former brethren and at last the binding that had held him was gone. He had time only to rise up onto his taloned feet and then the seven fell upon him enmasse.
Eventually, the renegade angel’s shrieks fell silent.
When it was over, the men of Echo were left alone in the room. Of the angels, and their fallen brother, there was no sign.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The men of Echo made their way back through the complex to the train station and then retraced their steps along the tunnel to the exit beneath the motor pool. There, exhausted, beaten and torn, the survivors at last emerged into the open air.
It had been only three days since they had entered Eden.
It felt like an eon.
The dark funnel cloud that had covered the base was gone. The sky above was clear and cloudless, a bright vibrant blue that seemed almost artificial after all the time they had spent in the dim lighting of the base and the grey landscape of the Beyond. The two HWMMVs were still outside the building, right where the team had left them days before, but Cade couldn’t be certain that Baraquel hadn’t interfered with them in any way and so he ordered that they remain untouched until a technical team could be brought in to check them out.
Which meant Echo was going to have to hoof it out on foot.
They all wanted to put as much distance between them and Eden as possible and so no one hesitated when Cade gave the order to move out. Duncan and Chen had both suffered burns to their hands and faces, so Riley and Davis carried their gear. Flynn kept a sharp eye on Cade, just in case the Commander’s injuries got the better of him. Their exit was far less dramatic than their entrance; when they came in, they’d done so as a well-organized military force, confident in their abilities to face whatever was before them, riding their modern chariots of steel and chrome, but as they left Eden behind, they looked more like a ragtag group of refugees than the trained military unit that they in fact were.
While the mission was a success, it had cost them dearly. Along with the ten men of 3rd Platoon, Echo had lost two of its own, Callavecchio and Ortega. Never mind the unknown number of staff members and scientists that Vargas had led to their doom by launching the Eden Project in the first place. Yet, Cade was not unsatisfied. Good men had lost their lives, yes, but they had done so in the name of a worthy cause and their sacrifice had not been in vain. Cade was willing to trade twelve men’s lives, a hundred, maybe more, if it meant keeping one of the Fallen from walking the earth.
As they moved down the main street, past the crumbling administrative buildings and housing units, Cade was able to make radio contact with Captain Mason, who seemed overjoyed to hear from him. He gave Mason an abbreviated sit-rep, let him know that they had wounded among them, and asked that his medical personnel be ready to receive them when they arrived back at the staging area sometime in the next half-hour.
Mason did them one better, sending a pair of SUVs to pick them up just outside the gates and was waiting for them on the steps of the command center when they arrived. On seeing the condition of the unit, he came down and personally lent a hand in helping Cade out of the vehicle.
“Praise God!” he said, a smile on his face. “We’d all but given you up for dead.”
Cade winced in pain, but refrained from mentioning how close they had actually come.
Mason must have read something in his expression, however, for he leaned in and asked, “Is it over?” His voice was steady but his eyes betrayed his concern.
Cade nodded. “Yes,” he said wearily. “It’s done.”
“My men?”
Cade shook his head. “I brought their rings out with me and should be able to direct you to their remains, but there was nothing we could do. They were dead long before we arrived.” He intentionally refrained from telling the captain about the way the bodies had been used by Baraquel; that could wait until later at the debriefing.
Mason seemed to understand there was more to the story than what was being said but he was content to let it go until later and for that Cade was grateful. What Cade needed now more than anything else was a hot meal and a cup of coffee.
But as he turned to join his men, his thoughts were already drifting to the clues the fallen angel had given to him.
The Sea of Lamentations.
The Isle of Sorrows.
The City of Despair.
A grim smile crossed his face.
At last he had a destination and he would not be long in seeking it out.
Epilogue
One week later.
Cade was in the midst of unbolting the shattered mirror from the floor of his workshop when the radio on the table next to him sputtered and then quietly died. For a moment the sound of the birds singing in the trees outside could be heard through the open door and then that, too, was abruptly cut off.
Everything went still.
Cade felt a grim chill wash over him and he glanced across the room to where his sword case rested on its shelf.
Somehow he knew he’d never make it in time.
A steady hum sprang out of nowhere, filling the air around him, and within seconds it built to a fever pitch, the rising shriek sharper and fiercer than the savage wail of a banshee. Cade clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut against the agony.
As abruptly as it began, the scream faded.
Silence fell.
Cade opened his eyes and discovered the seven standing before him, shining in their glory and majesty.
He remained kneeling, unable to do anything but gaze in humble awe at their presence.
The leader of the group stepped forward and extended its hand to Cade.
Held securely in its grip was a tar-black feather.
It was familiar looking and Cade had little doubt that it had been taken from the wings of the renegade, Baraquel.
“You will need this, son of Adam,” said a voice inside his head.
Cade reached up and took the feather from the angel’s out
stretched hand. He glanced down at it, only for a second, but when he looked up again he found himself alone.
“Thank you,” Cade said to the empty air him, and from somewhere, far off, he thought he heard a whispered reply.
Be strong, for heaven is not yet finished with you.
And as he climbed to his feet in the emptiness of their departure, Cade didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at the thought.
The story continues in Vengeance Reigns
Vengeance Reigns Excerpt
Chapter One
The priest ran toward the altar as if hell itself followed on his heels.
He didn’t have much time, minutes at best. Still, that might be enough. The others would have a warning at least. It was the best he could do given the circumstances.
Racing up the steps, he crossed to the tabernacle and spun the dials on the lock with trembling fingers. He set the second one incorrectly and had to do it again, losing precious seconds in the process. Opening the tabernacle, he bent one knee, genuflected, and then removed the ciborium from inside the blessed chamber.
From the other end of the church he could hear them banging on the inside of the sacristy door. He’d locked it behind him, but he didn’t expect it to hold for long.
Opening the ciborium and removing one of the communion wafers, he begged for Christ’s forgiveness for his sins and then placed the wafer on his tongue. From years past the voice of Father Jerome, his old seminary professor, came to him.
“Viaticum, from the Latin ‘via tecum,’ meaning ‘provisions for the journey.’ The final rite in the sacrament of Extreme Unction, the giving of the Eucharist ensures that the dying do not die alone, but have Christ with them in their final moments just as He has been with them in life.”
Behind him, the door to the sacristy burst from its hinges and the howls of his pursuers filled the nave.
He was out of time.
Steeling himself for what he knew was to come, he calmly closed the tabernacle and spun the dials, locking it against intrusion. It wouldn’t hold out a determined thief, but he had done his part and could rest easy on that score. He got to his feet and turned to face the front of the church.
The shadows had reached the transept.
He hurried to the altar and took up the Bible resting there. It wouldn’t hold them off but he felt better with it in his hands.
As they reached the foot of the altar, he calmly went down to meet them.
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About the Author
Joseph Hutton is a pen name for New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Joseph Nassise.
For more information, visit:
@jnassise
joseph.nassise
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Copyright Information
HUNTERS RISE
Copyright 2017 by Joseph Hutton/Joseph Nassise
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Angels Scream (Echo Team Book 2) Page 19
