Finally on the ground, I work the my arms out of my sleeves allowing me to toss the jacket off to the side. My pants are another matter entirely. Being the modest type, shedding them in the same manner I did my jacket is firmly out of the question. Thankfully, I’m able to put the fires on my pants out by patting them with my hand.
When I finally get to my feet, I notice the demons lifting the final piece into the air.
“Damn it!” I yell, knowing I missed my chance to keep them from raising the final piece. I know it wasn’t a great shot to begin with, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
Turning my attention back down the ramp I see Az backed up against the railing, surrounded by a four foot tall wall of flame. He takes a look over the side only to jump back with another wall of flame appears on the other side. Without a line of escape, it is only a matter of time before the angel is killed.
“Someone’s a little obsessed with fire,” I say, walking down the ramp.
“I see you decided to come back and play,” he laughs. “I was hoping I would be able to kill you personally.” He snaps his finger, creating a ring of fire all around me. “You are going to have to wait your turn.”
Sweat pours from my face as the heat slowly intensifies. The concrete around the flames pops and cracks as it continues to be exposed to the flame.
Alastor walks close to the flame surrounding Az. When he pulls his arm back for a death blow, I make my move.
Tossing the knives I got from the woman, I use my power to maneuver them towards his head. The first knife finds its target when he swings his arm. The force of the blow sends him off balance, forcing him to miss Az by a mile.
As he recovers from the first hit, the second knife moves in and slices his throat. Alastor drops his sword to stem the flow of blood pouring from his neck. The flames around Az and me dissipate, leaving nothing between us and the demon.
Azrael doesn’t even give me a chance to react, using his sword to remove the rest of the demon’s head with one quick slice.
“I thought I told you to stop the cranes,” he says, looking over at their progress.
“Was planning on it, but someone let Alastor light me on fire.”
He sighs. “So that’s what he was doing.”
“Besides,” I say. “It looked like you needed the help.”
“I appreciate it,” he says. “I guess we need to head back to the command post. There isn’t much time to stop them from finishing.”
- 9 -
“One Azrael, signed sealed and delivered,” I say when I enter the new command shack. Unlike the last one, Nal has this one set up across the street on Memorial. There is nothing fancy about this setup. A dozen tents are set up on each side of the road. Some of them are being used to triage patients as they are rescued from under the bridge, others by soldiers taking a break between skirmishes.
“I knew you could get him,” Uriel says, looking up from her spot at the table next to Nal.
“You look a little…crispy,” Nal says.
“Had a run in with Alastor,” Azrael says. “He decided he wanted a side of barbecued Mitch.”
I twirl around to show off the burn holes in my jacket. Sara won’t be pleased when she sees it, but there isn’t anything I can do.
“They have the last piece in the air,” I say when I’m done with my twirls. “You have anything up your sleeve for this one?”
Nal shakes his head. “I sent a unit down to Fort Leonard Wood to see if they had anything we could use. Tanks, planes, anything. I hoped they would be here by now.”
“We could do a heavy push against one of the cranes,” I say. “Taking out one should be enough.”
“I don’t know. Every time we push hard on them, they end up pushing us back. I just wish we had another way to bring it down.”
“Have you tried focusing fire on one of the steel braids holding them up?”
Nal nods. “First thing we tried.”
I scratch my head, looking for another option. Looking at the people wounded or resting, they wouldn’t give us enough to make a huge move. If we hadn’t lost so many to the bridge explosions, things would’ve been different.
“I say we take everything we have and just blitz the middle,” Az says. “It beats letting them kill us all once they finish.”
I look over at Uriel, confused. “Will the portal open the moment the final piece is in place?”
“No,” she says. “They will also need to do a ritual to activate the runes.”
“So we still have a little time,” I add. “Is Abaddon the only one who can do this ritual?”
“He and Samael.”
“Let me guess. The one Nancy is handling?”
Nal nods. “Must have been a lot nastier than I thought he was.”
“He and Alastor were both right under Abaddon,” Uriel says. “He only answers to one other.”
She doesn’t name who that is, but she doesn’t have to. It is the one that will be released from hell the moment the portal opens. I can’t imagine he is going to be the happiest being if he finally gets out.
Azrael takes a seat next to Uriel and looks her in the eyes. “Tell me how Tamiel blew up the portal last time.”
“Tam had a power that most angels do not. He was able to invert his power to turn himself into a large bomb.”
Az’s head droops when he hears the news. I’m not a fan of watching him sacrifice himself for us, but it might have been nice to have the option.
“So it comes down to us,” Nal says. “We have to stop this, or die trying.”
“Any sign of Abaddon?” I say. “If we can take her down, then we may not need to worry about the portal.”
“She is too powerful for any of us to handle,” Uriel says. “The only being she fears has had his route cut off.”
I crack my knuckles. “I’ve taken her out before so I can do it again.”
“She’s right,” Azrael says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “If you killed Abaddon before, you got lucky.”
I shrug my shoulders. “She went down like the rest of them.”
“So all we have to do is wait for you to get your ass kicked and then stab her in the back,” Nal says, laughing.
“I’m game.”
To tell the truth, I’m for anything that allows us to live another day. We spend the next few minutes throwing around a few ideas that all get swatted down. It isn’t that we aren’t willing to try, but our resources are highly limited. There just aren’t enough people to split our focus in more than one or two places.
Then behind us, I hear our salvation.
“I think you have your delivery,” I say, pointing to a purple tractor trailer approaching from the south.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Nal says, eyes widening in surprise. “Wonder what they found.”
The four of us walk down the street to the truck parked going the wrong way on 44.
“About time, Bill,” Nal says. “You almost missed the fun.”
“We weren’t going to miss that for the world,” Bill says, walking to the back of the truck. “Besides. We bought the fireworks.”
Bill opens the back of the truck revealing a few dozen wooden boxes. He hops in the back, grabbing a crowbar sitting along the side, before stopping at the first. He doesn’t wait for us to get up before busting into the first.
“Look at that,” Nal says, once the lid is open. He walks close and leans into the box.
“Is that what I think it is?” I say when he finally pulls his head out while holding a rocket launcher in one hand.
“This should work,” Nal says with a large grin on his face. “You get any more of these?”
Bill shakes his head. “Just the one. We found it in an overturned Hummer not far from the base.”
“As long as you tell me we have ammo, we are in business.”
Bill reaches into the box, digging for a moment before pulling one out.
“You have one shot,” he says. “So it needs to co
unt. The good news is you get that shot with a Javelin. As long as you get a lock, and everything else stays out of the way, a hit is almost guaranteed.”
I look up at the three cranes lifting the final piece into the air. While they are moving slow for now, it is only a matter of time before they get it into place.
“We can’t afford to use it on a crane,” Azrael adds. “They could still manage this with two.”
“What do you suggest?” Nal says.
“Take out the piece. If they sent everything they had up here to make sure these final pieces were put into place, then we need to destroy it. By the time they make another one and send it up here, we can have the whole thing torn down.”
It sounds like a huge risk, but it has a large reward. When you consider the options, the decision is simple.
“How much time do we have?” I say.
“A few hours,” Nal says. “This piece is smaller. It shouldn’t take as much time.”
“Should be enough. Do you know how to use this thing?” I ask Bill.
He nods. “Was assigned one in Afghanistan. Never got a chance to use it in combat though.”
“Then here’s what we do.” I point over at the old KMOV building. “I take Bill and someone else to the roof. From up there we should have a clear shot.”
“Not sure well that’s going to work,” Nal says. “We had two snipers in the building at first. Haven’t seen them doing a thing for hours.”
“We can handle whatever they have in there, Nal,” Bill adds.
“Then I’ll take everything we have and make a push at the middle,” Az says. “With any luck, we can keep anyone else from following you up.”
“Sounds like the best plan we have,” Nal says.
I nod. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but we are on the clock.”
“Take Spencer,” Nal says. “The rest can go with Az.” He looks at me, showing the bags under his eyes. “Make it count.”
“We will.”
- 10 -
“I didn’t realize the door would be out in the open,” I say, peeking around the corner onto Market. Ahead of me there is a clear view of the battle under the portal, not a single tree or vehicle is blocking our view. Most of the demonic forces are still settled around the three cranes though there is a small group of them moving some some large stones into the center.
I smile when I hear a rumble of thunder off to the west. From the look of the sky, we are in for a storm in the next hour. For the first time in my life, I’m praying for strong storm.
Hail.
Strong winds.
Hell, I’d even welcome a tornado if it would rip the beams of the portal to the ground. At the least, the winds of the gust front should make it difficult on them for the next few hours.
I’ll take any bit of luck I can.
“Once we turn around this corner, we need to haul ass to the entrance,” I say. “We’ll be out in the open a lot longer than I would like.”
The two men nod and ready their weapons for the run ahead leaving me to handle the bulky rocket launcher. On the count of three, Bill and Spencer lead the charge with me trailing right behind them.
By the time we reach the shattered glass doors into the TV station, my legs and back ache. Out of all the running I’ve had to do in my life, I have to rank that as one of the worst. If we get out of this in one piece, I’m never going to run again.
I enter the lobby, careful not to slip on the shattered glass and paper scattered across the room. Much like the other buildings in the area, there isn’t a lick of furniture to be found. Like everything else around, if it wasn’t bolted down, someone probably took it.
“How far up do we need to go?” I ask, approaching the stairs.
“I’d say at least the 12th floor, if we can swing it,” Bill says. I’m not so worried about something getting in the way of the shot as I am having someone see us up here.
“You can’t make the shot from inside the building?” I ask.
“No, sir.” Spencer shakes his head. “The missile relies on thermal imaging to track the target. There is a chance it will pick up the building.”
“It’s small,” Bill says. “But we should try to get onto one of the balconies.”
I’m all for doing things the right way, especially with what’s at stake.
We take our time climbing up the stairs, trading off the rocket launcher every few floors to help with the weight. Even though it doesn’t look like it, the launcher is one heavy little beast after a few dozen steps.
We keep pushing hard, only stopping on the 9th floor to give our arms a rest.
“You sure this won’t work?” I say, surveying the damage on the floor.
Much like the lobby, glass and debris litter the floor though most of the furniture is still in place. I guess this was too far up to carry it down the stairs. Papers swirl around the room as I approach the broken windows before the canopy.
On the battlefield, I see Azrael and his group moving in from the south, making a full assault on the nearby crane. They are making good progress, but it is only a matter of time until they get pushed back as some of the people guarding of the other cranes is moving in to help.
The only other thing that really stands out from here is the massive number of bodies laying on the ground. While this wouldn’t go down as the bloodiest battle to happen on US soil, it is easily the most bodies I’ve seen in one place my entire life.
Granted, I was never in the military, but I was never one to seek out bloodshed.
It wasn’t until after the Rising that I saw my first body, I still remember the look in her eyes.
I found her on the highway, still behind the wheel of her little Ford Focus.
What was left of it anyways. Pitted against a tractor trailer, there are few cars that stand a chance. If the truck’s driver is one of those taken, anyone in the way is fucked.
I felt her neck and wrist looking for a pulse, but wasn’t able to find one. She couldn’t have been gone for that long though. Her blood was still oddly warm.
“You ready to finish this, Mitch?” Bill asks, walking up beside me.
I nod. After living like this for nearly the last four years, I’ve had enough death. I could live a happy life if I never had to see another dead body ever again. There will be more before this day is done, but one well placed shot could end a lot of it.
I take the rocket launcher for the next two floors, wanting to save Bill the effort. Spencer pitches in and takes it for the last.
I exit the stairwell ahead of the other two men, holding Spencer’s gun. The first thing I notice is the damage on this floor is not as extensive as it was on the others. On the floor, the glass and debris is located close to the windows, the result of stray bullets from the battle below.
“Are they all in one piece?” Bill says, knocking on glass.
We search the floor, room by room without seeing an opening large enough to crawl out of.
“Let’s head back down to nine,” Bill says. “It will be high enough to work.”
“I have a better idea,” I say, walking over to Bill. “Give me one of your grenades.”
Bill looks at me with concern. “What do you have in mind?”
“Gonna throw it in the room. There should be enough of a blast to shatter the windows.”
“I don’t know,” Bill says, looking out the window facing the portal. “They might see the blast.”
“That’s why I’m going to throw it in there,” I say, pointing to the corner room down the hall. The rooms back there are on the opposite side.
“What if we just shoot the glass,” Spencer adds. “I doubt they’d even hear a few gunshots from down there.”
“Let’s give it a shot.”
I hand Spencer back his gun, opting for the pistol in the small of my back. The two soldiers enter the room, standing a few feet apart from each other, leaving me to stand in the open door.
Our salvo only lasts a few moments, but leaves my
ears ringing. Between the automatic fire of soldiers, the glass shatters quickly, sending shards of glass onto the floor and out onto the balcony.
I walk up to the mess and use my sword to knock free a few loose shards. The last thing we need is for one of the larger pieces to fall and impale Bill. I’m sure I could figure out how to use the rocket launcher if I had to, but I would rather let the pros handle it.
Bill walks up ahead and climbs out of the window, using one of the runners to protect his hands and legs. He walks the platform for a moment before settling on the place he will fire.
“Make it count,” I say, handing him the weapon.
“Always.”
Bill walks down the balcony to a spot two rooms down before kneeling on the edge. He takes a knee on the edge and places the weapon on his shoulder.
“What’s taking so long?” I ask Spencer when Bill still hasn’t fired after a couple of minutes.
“That’s the one downfall to the Javelin. In order for the thermal view to work properly, it has to cool the system on the launcher. Normally it doesn’t take this long.”
“The heat have anything to do with it?” I say. It isn’t really that hot outside, but it doesn’t take much for the sun to heat a building like this.
“Could be,” Spencer adds, jerking his head to the door. “You hear that?”
I nod, hearing the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. I tiptoe across the room, careful not to step on any of the broken glass. Once I get to the door, I poke my head out to get a good look.
Two men, both holding automatic rifles, are walking down the hall away from me. Unlike the people fighting for Nal, these guys are wearing matching red shirts and blue jeans, much like the crew by the cranes. Instinctively, I reach for my knife wanting to end this quietly. When it isn’t in its normal spot, I remember that I gave it to Sara earlier in the day.
Risen: The Demontouched Saga (Book 6) Page 5
