Battle Scream (The Battle Series Book 1)

by Mark Romang

  “Have you forgotten what I told you back when you lost your leg and nearly died?”

  Maddix rubbed his jet-black, close-cropped hair. This can’t be happening. I have to be hallucinating. “I can’t lead a resistance against Lucifer. I’m only a man.”

  The angel stepped forward. “A long time ago a man named Zechariah doubted what I told him and he didn’t speak again for nine months.”

  Maddix looked at his shoes. “So I’m supposed to use this sword to fight Satan?”

  “No, only the demons Declan Cooper drove from this church.”

  Maddix heard a commotion and looked up toward the foyer. All six deacons were scurrying for the door. “Forgive me for asking, but how can I fight what I can’t see?”

  “Pick up the pouch and look inside.”

  Maddix fingered the leather pouch, no bigger than a large apple. The pouch was so light it felt empty. He loosened its drawstring and looked inside. He saw white flakes resembling instant potato flakes, only much larger. “What’s this?”

  “It’s angel food. But manna is its proper name. Take and eat one flake. No more than that. And then give one flake to each of your friends here.”

  Maddix took out one manna flake. It was flat and spongy and translucent. This is one crazy dream. I can’t possibly be about to eat a piece of manna. He placed it in his mouth and bit down gingerly, afraid of what might happen next. The manna tasted delicious, savory and slightly sweet like homemade bread, only much better. Sara Kendall stood next to him. He passed the pouch to her.

  Sara reached into the pouch and extracted a manna flake. She ate it and grinned. “It’s sweet,” she said as she handed the pouch over to Kyle Miller.

  Miller took the pouch but hesitated. He looked at the angel posing as a UPS delivery driver “If I eat this does this mean I’ll be fighting demons too?”

  The angel nodded. “Andrew can’t fight them alone. He needs a team. There will be four of you. A fifth will join later.”

  Miller reluctantly placed a manna flake into his mouth.

  “Kyle makes three. Who is the fourth one?” Maddix asked as he looked around. Only Cody was left. “Surely you don’t mean Cody. He’s only a kid.”

  Cody sprang forward and grabbed the pouch from Kyle Miller. “I want to, Pastor Maddix. Wherever you lead I’ll follow,” he said, and popped a manna flake into his mouth.

  Gabriel nodded approvingly. “Okay, now that you’ve all eaten some manna. Go open the church doors and look out.”

  They walked single file over to the doors, Maddix leading the way. His heart thudded as he opened the double doors and looked out. At least a hundred people gathered in the church parking lot. News crews, ghost hunters, sign-toting protestors, and curiosity seekers mingled as one.

  But another group circulated unseen amongst the mob.

  Maddix heard Sara gasp beside him. She grabbed his arm. Hideous creatures, strange and otherworldly, shadowed the people and, in some cases, like holograms, shimmered in and out through their bodies. Maddix swallowed hard. The creatures looked liked they belonged in a Lord of the Rings movie. Their bodies were misshapen; scaly lizard skin covered skinny legs and long arms with clawed hands brushed the ground. Oversized heads with bulging eyes and bared fangs hung on their necks.

  “I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Kyle Miller gushed. “I’m seeing demons.”

  “Look at that big one,” Cody said, pointing to a short man wearing chinos and a buttoned down shirt. A giant demon, vile and repugnant, gnawed at the man’s chest. “He’s eating that poor guy!”

  Maddix looked away, repulsed by supernatural spectacle. He looked over his shoulder at the angel. “The manna enables us to see the spiritual realm?”

  Gabriel returned Maddix’s gaze, his cerulean eyes radiant and penetrating. “It does. You have just enough manna to last the length of your battle. Don’t eat any more until you actually start fighting. Each of you must eat only one flake per day. No more and no less.”

  Maddix closed the doors. He led his slack-jawed friends back into the sanctuary. The angel followed close behind in an almost protective manner. After viewing the monsters outside, Maddix welcomed the heaven-sent security. He turned to Gabriel again. “Please don’t silence my speaking ability; I have some questions I must ask you.”

  “That is why I am here.”

  “The Bible implies in Ephesians 6 that we are to take our stand against the spiritual forces of evil by putting on the full armor of God and praying in the Spirit on all occasions. And yet you want me to battle demons with a flaming sword. I’m confused. Why am I different than anyone else? Why is my battle physical?”

  “There are some things you are better off not knowing, Andrew. They are too much for your human mind to comprehend. But rest assured God will not give you more than you can handle.”

  Maddix walked over and picked up the sword. “I thought a spirit couldn’t die. Even fallen angels are eternal like you. Does this sword cancel out the laws of eternity?”

  “You’re right. The sword won’t kill the demons. It only neutralizes them until the millennial reign reaches its conclusion. When stabbed in the heart by this sword, they become insignificant bystanders waiting for judgment to condemn them. But the sword must be aflame when you battle them. And if your faith wavers the sword will extinguish.”

  Maddix motioned with his head over to where Sara, Kyle, and Cody were sitting. “What about them? What kind of weapon are they going to use? We only have one sword here.”

  “They will drive the demons to you. Fire works the best at controlling the demons. They’re afraid of fire. It reminds them of hell. You’re a man of war accustomed to weapons producing fire. I would have your friends use incendiary weapons.”

  “How long will this take? I mean…to neutralize them?”

  “You have six days. Three days to acquire the weapons and train your friends on how to use them, and three days to battle the demons. If you fail, they will return to this church seven days from now, stronger than before.”

  “Where are the demons now?”

  “They’re recovering in a slot canyon northeast of town. Perdition Canyon is where you will find them.” Gabriel looked over at Sara. “You are quite familiar with the canyon?”

  Maddix watched Sara nod her head. “Anything else I should know?” he asked.

  The angel nodded gravely. “The Tempter will do anything to acquire the sword. He’s been looking for it since the creation of man. Guard the sword with your life. Don’t let it out of your sight,” he said, just before vanishing through the door.

  Cody jumped up from the pew he was sitting in. “Did you guys see that? How cool was that? He just drifted through the closed door like it didn’t even exist. This church rocks, man.”

  Chapter 10

  Perdition Canyon—that same evening

  Darkness had just begun its nightly descent into Zion National Park when the two experienced canyoneers egressed out Perdition Canyon and headed for home, leaving the canyon the same way they found it: lonely and isolated.

  And yet the slot canyon still contained an alien presence. Lying in protective cocoons, six bruised and battered demons rested inside the grottos pocking the canyon walls. The demons slept deeply in a hibernating fashion, their powerful bodies respiring slowly, shallow breaths coming in and going out in one minute increments. A thin black mist curled from their nostrils with each exhalation.

  Two other demons sat on an outcropping nearby. From their perch they monitored the injured warrior demons. “How soon will they be ready?” Selachian asked his companion, a demon gifted in the healing arts.

  “Four days, perhaps. Although some may be ready sooner than others,” Toragor replied.

  Selachian’s broad shoulders slumped. The two imps napping on his shoulders jerked awake and hissed at their master. “Four days is too long. They need to be battle-ready in three days or less,” Selachain said.

  “I will do my best, but recovery time is alw
ays unpredictable. You know that.”

  “Then I may need to call in replacements.”

  “May I ask why we are charging into battle so impulsively?” Toragor inquired. He was not used to being so rushed.

  “It’s the Maddix Prophecy. The time of fulfillment is here,” Selachian answered solemnly.

  Toragor sucked in his breath. “There is no way to stop it is there?”

  Selachian sighed deeply. “There isn’t. But we can’t dwell on the outcome. All that matters is we follow orders. Lucifer gives orders to me. I give them to you. Do you understand how this works, Toragor?” he said, his powerful voice taking on an ominous timbre.

  “Yes, I know all too well. We follow Lucifer’s orders without complaining and do everything within our power to deceive the humans that there is no God.”

  Selachian patted the physician’s shoulder. “You answered wisely, old friend. Now, can you take a look at my wings? Michael nearly sliced them off in our last battle.”

  Chapter 11

  The next morning

  The drive up Interstate 15 to Provo took a little under four hours. Unable to sleep the night before, Maddix started the trip at a quarter past five. He had little time to waste, and packed a banana and a Power Bar to eat along the way.

  Despite the jaw-dropping landscapes speeding by his windows, he didn’t observe the quaking aspen groves of the Fish Lake National Forest, or the black obsidian-covered volcanic fields of the Black Rock Desert, or even the sand dunes of the Little Sahara glistening under the morning sun. His eyes stared straight ahead, rarely wavering from the heat waves shimmering over the blacktop. Despite his tunnel vision, Maddix remained fully alert to his surroundings and lifted his gaze every few minutes to study his rearview mirror and the SUV trailing him discreetly.

  From the moment Gabriel instructed him that he was to go into battle, Maddix had been mulling over various military tactics, devising strategies and weighing the risks involved. Time constraints hindered proper planning, the type of exhaustive planning SEAL teams undergo before each mission. Every possible scenario is laboriously worked through, rehearsed, and accounted for before SEAL team insertions, thereby reducing the risk of failure. Maddix didn’t have such luxury.

  He was going in blind. To his knowledge no human had ever physically battled a demon. He didn’t know their strengths or limitations, or if they carried weapons, and if so, what kind of weapons. The only thing he could say with any confidence was that demons attack the mind first. But even this assumption could prove wrong. So as he drove his Jeep Wrangler northward into Provo’s outskirts, Maddix struggled to pinpoint a military tactic that could give him the advantage over an unconventional foe. Military jargon ricocheted around in his head like shrapnel. Terms like force multiplication, asymmetric warfare, Fabian strategy, Blitzkrieg, and the Boyd loop jostled for supremacy in his mind.

  He ruled out Blitzkrieg for obvious reasons, and he didn’t have enough time or reconnaissance to employ the Boyd loop or Fabian strategy. That left asymmetric warfare as his most plausible tactic.

  With the 11,000 foot peaks of the Wasatch Mountains looming over him, Maddix exited off Interstate 15 and onto University Avenue, which cut through the heart of Provo. A Mormon stronghold and home to BYU University, Provo is clean and nearly crime-free, making it a family-friendly place to live. Provo is also home to a glut of software technology companies and biotech companies. Taking all these attributes into consideration, Maddix wondered why his old SEAL buddy would choose to open a gun shop in Provo.

  Turning onto South 800 Street, Maddix trolled the wide street, looking for Webb’s Firearms.

  He quickly spotted the storefront and pulled into a nearby parking spot. Shutting off the engine, he looked over his shoulder at the Garden of Eden sword tucked underneath the back seat, making sure it wasn’t visible from passersby. Satisfied, he hopped out of his Jeep and locked the vehicle.

  The sign in the window stated the gun shop opened at nine am. Maddix was a little early, but his friend was expecting him. He walked up to the door and rapped on the glass.

  The door swung open, and Maddix found himself standing face to face with Coleton Webb. Maddix marveled at how well his buddy looked. Webb was an even bigger fitness fanatic than him. A gym rat, Webb religiously trained with a local MMA contingent. Bulging biceps and shoulders strained against his UFC t-shirt, while calves as big as cantaloupes peeked out the end of athletic shorts. With his flowing blonde hair and fair skin, he looked like a modern day Viking minus the horned hat and fur cloak. “Mad Dog, it’s been way too long! Come inside, buddy. Welcome to my world.”

  Maddix stepped inside. His nose wrinkled. “It smells like cordite in here.”

  Webb beamed. “It’s actually a room freshener scent I’m trying to market. I haven’t found any buyers yet, but I haven’t given up.”

  Maddix grinned. “I see you haven’t changed much, C-Dub. You’re still angling to make a buck.”

  Webb shrugged his shoulders. “Money makes the world go around, Mad Dog. It’s a fact.”

  Maddix looked around the gun shop. A glass counter ran along every interior wall and showcased revolvers and tactical side arms. Other firearms were neatly organized behind the counter along the walls. Antique collectible rifles and shotguns took up one wall and were displayed from oldest to newest. Maddix spotted a French-made Charleville musket, a Kentucky long rifle, and a Sharps Model 1867 carbine. All the weapons looked in mint condition and sported hefty price tags. Next to those were a Mauser Gewehr 98 bolt-action rifle and a Springfield M1903. A couple of M-16s, a trio of AKs and a StG44 rounded out the collection.

  Maddix studied one of the AKs. His neck hair suddenly sprang up. The rifle looked familiar. The Kalashnikov resembled the one he pulled from the weapons crate in the Afghan cave. As a flashback threatened to surface, Maddix quickly looked away and walked over to a brick wall where swords of various lengths were displayed.

  For as long as Maddix knew him, Webb had been obsessed with martial arts. Maddix pretended to admire the swords. He plunged a hand into his pant pocket and felt the pill bottle Major Triplett had given him four years ago. The terrifying memories had just started to resurface a few weeks ago. So far he’d been able to fend them off without the drug. I can’t let Webb see me this way. Not now. Fight it off.

  Small floodlights illumined the swords in warm light. Their razor-sharp blades glinted under the luminescence like precious gemstones. Maddix could tell the swords were quite old and not recent mass-produced items. One sword looked like a Masamune samurai sword. Maddix examined the price tag. He whistled. Webb wanted $60,000 dollars for the sword. He looked behind him toward Webb, who proudly watched him taking in the inventory. “Looks like you have a fortune invested in this place.”

  “It takes money to make money, Mad Dog.”

  Maddix finished his store inspection and returned to Webb. “Mormons and college kids buy this stuff?”

  Webb grinned. “There’s a lot of money in this town. The geeks at the software and biotech companies pull in some handsome salaries. Some of them like to hunt. Some just like to collect.”

  Maddix nodded. He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I need a favor. A big one,” he said as he handed the list to Webb. “I need everything on this list by tomorrow night.”

  Webb looked at the list. His olive eyes grew large as he read silently. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Mad Dog,” he said when he finished. “Five to six flamethrowers, an M202A1 FLASH launcher, a fire suit, night-vision goggles, tactical helmets with boom mikes, Nomex gloves with plastic knuckles, a 40mm braided nylon rope. Why do you need this stuff?”

  Maddix flashed his ex-SEAL buddy a wry grin. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Yeah, you’re about to go on a mission, one that you’re going to fast-rope into. But you don’t have conventional weapons on this list, just incendiary ones,” Webb said. “By the way, this stuff is going to cost you a fortune.”

  “I have the ne
cessary funding,” Maddix replied. Thanks to all the people who donated money over the internet for the church cleanup, he figured he had just enough.

  “What type of enemy are you going up against?”

  Maddix pulled out his iPhone. He pulled up the YouTube video. He handed over the phone to Webb. “Have you seen this?”

  Webb watched the video, and then handed back the phone. “I’ve seen it. Who hasn’t? It’s all over the internet.” Webb shook his head sadly. “It hurts me to see you this way, Mad Dog.”

  “I’m not crazy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “So you’re going to fight these demons with flamethrowers and a FLASH launcher? Don’t you think these types of weapons are going to attract some attention?”

  “The demons are in a slot canyon in a remote location. And I also have a special sword that I’m going to be using. It’s my wild card.”

  Webb’s thick eyebrows bunched up. “What makes this sword so special?”

  “Its blade ignites into flame when you swing it,” Maddix said.

  Webb burst into raucous laughter. “Where did you find a flaming sword?” he asked between belly laughs.

  “An angel gave it to me.”

  “If you could only hear yourself talk. I wish you could get over this fascination with the supernatural. I liked you better when you were a beer-swilling frogman.”

  “At least ten other people were in the same room with me when the angel appeared. They all saw him and can back up my story.”

  “Maybe they’re nuttier than you.”

  “So can you get me these things or not?”

  “Why do you need them by tomorrow night? That doesn’t give me much time?”

  “Because I have six days starting yesterday to take out these demons or they’ll come back to the church.”

  “My price is 100 thousand.”

  “Now who’s talking crazy?”

  “I’ll knock it down to seventy-five thousand if you let me go with you.”