Last Days Trilogy

by Jacqueline Druga

  He arrived with an angry scream. Acting on instinct, Michael grabbed, tossed, stabbed and beheaded. He wasted no time, and moved with such rapidity that the demons never knew what hit them.

  Neither did Reggie. One moment she felt the ripping of her skin and the next, a rain of blood pouring down. Before she knew it, she saw the hand of Michael.

  He lifted her. “You took on too many.”

  “No shit.” She withdrew her sword from a dervan. “I’ll make sure…” Reggie screamed. She was lifted into the air. “What are you doing?”

  Michael set her down in front of the hotel doors. “There is less activity here. Guard the entrance.”

  “Hey!” Reggie shouted. “I’m supposed to be...” Before she could finish her sentence, Michael was gone, and Reggie had a new opponent.

  Marcus paused at the stairwell door. “Same thing.” He spoke to Earl and Steve. “Ready?”

  Earl nodded. “Right behind you, boss.”

  Marcus smiled and opened the door. “I just wish this hotel wasn’t so damn big. We’ll never find them.”

  “Watch out,” Steve warned.

  A demon leaped at Marcus. “Boo,” said Marcus. The demon lunged away.

  Earl lowered his sword into the demon’s chest, retracted it and moved on. “How do you do that?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s just keep searching.” Marcus led the way.

  Sgt. Darryl Watson paced about the crowded concierge lounge on the seventh floor. Something was happening outside. The screams were not human, like the ones he was used to hearing when his fellow prisoners were killed. He couldn’t see into the hall. It was blocked by, as Darryl described them, gargoyles. In his limping pace, he looked at the sixteen others in the room. “Keep praying,” he instructed. “Keep praying.” Darryl’s lips trembled slowly in the middle of his own prayers. Face half-swollen, Darryl had been beaten nearly beyond recognition. But he was no worse off than the other men in the room.

  A “thump” brought his attention to the window, and a smear of blood against the pane caused him to smile. The wall of gargoyles dropped like dominoes, bringing Marcus, Earl, and Steve into view.

  Marcus waved.

  “He’s on our side!” Darryl hollered. He watched Marcus unsuccessfully try the locked door. “Step back!” Darryl yelled to Marcus as he lifted a chair in signal. When they were clear from the window, he sailed it through. A rain of glass followed the chair into the hall, and then Darryl stepped out. “Tell me. Tell me it’s all over.”

  Marcus shook his head. “Not yet. But we’re trying. And we need your help. First, though, we have to get you out of here.”

  “We have ill.” Darryl pointed behind him. “And injured.”

  “We’ll help gather them up,” Marcus said. “But you’re safe with us.”

  “Thanks. I mean it. Thank you. This way.” His spirit revived, Darryl led Marcus, Earl and Steve into the lounge.

  “It’s going to be tough,” Marcus explained as the group hobbled their way to the lobby. “Our main goal is to get you out of here and to the highway.”

  “Then where?” Darryl asked. He had his arm around a man, nearly pulling to move him faster.

  “Base camp.” Marcus led them to the blackened lobby doors. “But first...” He pushed through and was greeted with something that hadn’t graced the sky in a long time, sunlight.

  Earl made his way to Marcus and smiled. “They did it.”

  “We all did,” Marcus corrected, and looked at what remained. Mounds of bloodied and dismembered demon bodies covered the ground. Herbie and another soldier pulled the injured from the battleground. Reggie and Michael led the others; they walked atop the bodies, delivering a fatal stab to anything that moved. A rotten smell filled the air, but it was overwhelmed by a sweet truth. The first violent battle of good versus evil had ended. And in the odd evening sunlight, it was evident that good had won.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Fort Knox, Kentucky

  “They are not just souls lost,” Devante spoke, his voice soft and graveling. “They are souls lost forever.”

  Leonard watched Devante staring out his window while General George Adman played with the clicking mercury balls on the table.

  “I don’t understand,” Leonard spoke up. “How can a soul be lost forever?”

  “The being is disintegrated. Gone. No more life force, good or bad. Any outer-world being who loses the life of their form here on Earth is lost.”

  “Any?” Leonard questioned, and then shifted his eyes to Adman, who clicked the balls faster.

  “Any,” Devante answered. “Including me.”

  “What about the angel?” Leonard grabbed the balls to silence them.

  This brought a smile from Devante. “The angel as well. However, we are still at a loss. A loss that pushes the limits of my anger.”

  “Yes but...” Leonard stood up. “It was one battle. You’ll regroup. How many can they have?”

  “Not many,” Devante said.

  “They can be hundreds, but look at what you have outside, what’s protecting you. They’ll never beat that. Especially without the angel. Now I was CIA for over twenty-years, military intelligence as well. General Adman was head of the Pentagon. Maybe you should consider picking up a secondary plan.”

  “Have you lost faith!?” Devante raged.

  “No. No.” Leonard backed up nervously and sat down. “Everyone has a backup. I know you’re pretty much used to the old-world thing, and you and Michael are comfortable fighting as such.”

  “It has been written, and so it shall be done.”

  “Yeah. But there are other ways. With so much at stake, with your very being at stake, let George and me…” He paused to look at George, who stared at the mercury balls like a child. “Scratch that, let me devise a secondary plan of action.”

  Devante raised his eyebrow in the moment of quiet. “You have something in mind?”

  “Yes,” Leonard stated. “Go after the angel.”

  Devante scoffed. “Have I not told you numerous times he is not touchable? You pay no attention.”

  “I pay lots of attention. You have trusted me to help you. Let me at least work on something feasible.”

  “Very well.” Devante nodded. “Your increased enthusiasm is refreshing.”

  “I’ve just been thinking, that’s all. And... Excuse me.” He lunged when he saw George reaching for the balls again. “What is going on with you? Can’t you…” When he snatched hold of George’s hand, he paused. The fingernails had grown half an inch long; his reddening hands looked abnormally large and bony. “What the hell is happening to him?” Leonard released the hand and looked at Devante.

  Devante laughed, and then returned to the window.

  Seville, Ohio

  Kyle’s arms wrapped around Reggie as tightly as her arms were wrapped around Seth. She arrived in the first car with the injured, and before things got hectic she wanted a few moments with her family.

  “You’re hurt.” Kyle laid his hand on her face.

  “Nah.” Reggie held Seth close to her. “Just a little scratch here and there. They reminded me of monkeys.”

  “Cool,” Seth commented. “They scratched you?”

  “Yeah, and we took them out.” Reggie looked back to her father. “Not without loss and damage. We were really outnumbered.”

  “How many did we lose?” Kyle asked.

  “Seven,” Reggie answered. “And we have about twelve with injuries.”

  “That’s half our army.”

  “We did pick up fifteen more men. Sick and weak, but men.” Reggie ran her hand over Seth’s head. “I’m gonna go wash up. I’ll be right out.” She looked down at her son. “Wanna come with me?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Running around the couch, Seth shut off his video game and then joined his mother.

  “Glad you’re all right,” said Kyle. “I’ll head out to help Marcus. I guess with the losses, the guys are gonna be pretty gloomy.”


  “It was pretty quiet on the way home.” Solemn herself, and weary from a battle that took more of her strength than she realized, Reggie snuck off with her son. She wanted not only time with him, but time away from everything.

  <><><><>

  “Victory!” Buzz screamed as he opened a shaken beer. He let it shoot out, then chased the foam with his mouth. In front of him, two guys pulled a garbage can full of beer to the center of Kyle’s front yard, and Buzz bobbed his head to the music they were blasting.

  “Buzz. Want me to light the fire?” Earl asked.

  “Get it going, brother. Hell, I’m in such a good mood that disco wouldn’t even bother me.” He chuckled, downed his beer and watched the party being thrown together. Although they suffered losses, they had emerged victorious, and everyone knew it.

  Grabbing another beer from a nearby barrel of ice, Buzz walked from the celebration. He gave high-fives to the cheering men as he made his way to the medical set-up where they treated the injured.

  “Our Levi Warrior.” Buzz approached Marcus as he examined the gash on Hank’s leg. “Beer?”

  “Um...” Marcus looked at him. “I’ll pass, but thanks.”

  “Hank?” Buzz glanced down at Hank, who growled in pain. “Beer?”

  “Buzz?” said Marcus. “I’m going to stitch his leg first, can it...?” He gave up. “Great.” Shaking his head, he went back to work.

  Buzz lifted Hank’s head and held the beer at an angle so Hank could chug it. “Go get ‘em.” Buzz laughed louder, setting the remainder of the can on the cart. “Hey Michael, beer?”

  Marcus looked up. Michael approached. He looked tired.

  “No thank you, Buzz.” Michael closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “Well, let me know if you change your mind. Hey Marcus, I’m gonna go aid the injured.”

  “You go right ahead,” said Marcus.

  Buzz pulled a mini-flask from his leather jacket and slipped it to Hank. “Here you go. Anesthesia.” He winked and moved on.

  “They celebrate justifiably,” Michael spoke, weakly.

  “Michael?” Marcus glanced at him as he stitched. “Are you okay?”

  Michael struggled to smile, but it was a smile of relief. “Ah, Marcus, you speak to me in concern. Thank you for asking; you are a jerk. I am just drained. Sleep is in order for this body. I have instructed Kyle to wake me if needed.”

  “You don’t usually sleep much, do you?”

  “A luxury this body does not normally need. Tonight, it needs it.”

  “You kicked ass.”

  “No, Marcus, we all did.” Michael laid a firm hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “In battle we are one. We fight for the same cause.”

  “That we do.” Marcus grabbed a towel and stepped from Hank. “Do you still want to go out in two days?”

  “Yes. We will train minimally tomorrow.”

  “Michael, look around.” Marcus held out his hand. “Only half our guys are viable. The injured will be nowhere near ready to face again what we did today. Let alone, pull the two strikes.”

  “Marcus, they will be fine.” Michael said. “Now, have you seen Reggie?”

  Marcus called out as if to make him hear. “Hello!”

  “Hello.”

  “No.” Holding up his hand, Marcus shook his head. He grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped the sutures. “I may not be the best medical doctor. But I know that none of them will feel strong enough to fight two battles in two days.”

  “Marcus, my friend. I cannot argue this point. When the sun of the new day rises, so will a new strength for these men. Believe me.”

  “I’ll try.” Marcus shrugged. “I just know what I see. And I...” He pointed. “I see Reggie.”

  Michael’s face lit up. “Excuse me.”

  “Be my guest.” Marcus turned from his patient and watched Michael move to Reggie. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from her feet. Seeing this, Marcus mumbled something under his breath as he grabbed on to the supply cart. “I would have liked to talk to her, too. You’re all done, Hank.”

  Hank dropped the flask and hiccupped.

  “Swell.” Marcus moved to the next patient. He felt the slam of a body against his, and his gut rammed into the tray. Before he could complain, arms wrapped around him. First the smell of soap, then a kiss to the cheek, Marcus smiled. “Reg.”

  “My Levi Warrior.” She kissed him again and released her hold. “We did good.” She grinned, then noticed Earl sloppily offering her a beer. “Thanks. Cheers.” She held up the bottle and took a drink. “What are you doing?” She seemed hyper and upbeat.

  “Um, treating the ill?” Marcus snickered.

  “You’re the doctor.” She took another drink and showed Marcus the beer.

  Marcus shook his head. “No. Thanks. What are you doing?”

  “Seeing you. I needed to see you. I took a shower, cleaned my scratches. See.” She showed him her leg as she rambled on. “Played a game or two with Seth. He crashed halfway through his cheese sandwich, and here I am.”

  “Pretty hyper.”

  “Yeah.” Another grin crossed her face. “I wasn’t at first, but you know, thinking about it. We were so outnumbered and we... we were badass.”

  “Reg.” Marcus covered her mouth with his hand. “Calm down. What are you doing here?”

  “I told you, seeing you.”

  “Yes. But, getting back.” Marcus waved his hand in a winding motion. “What are you doing here? This is the last place I expected to see you standing. Where’s Michael?”

  “Sleeping. I guess. Or close to it. On his way to the bedroom, I suppose. If he’s not already there. But he’s wanting to sleep.” She nodded and took a drink. “I told him I wasn’t tired and I needed to see you. So. Wanna hang out?”

  “Really?” Marcus seemed shocked. “How long?”

  “All night, if you want.”

  Marcus was hesitant. “And Michael said it was OK? No jealousy?”

  Reggie shook her head. “I told him I needed to be with you.”

  “Really.” Marcus’ expression flipped like a coin, happy to sad. “No. I have all these people to treat. We have nurses, sort of, but they can’t suture.”

  “Want me to help you?” she asked, setting her beer on the tray. “Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll help. You’ll finish faster and we can just... hang out.”

  “I’d like that.” Marcus stepped closer and softened his voice. “Really, I would.”

  “So would I.”

  Marcus stepped away, touching his finger to her nose. “All right. Sutures.”

  “Oh, can I stitch? Remember, I tried patchwork once. I was good.”

  “Yeah, yeah you were,” Marcus said. “Let’s do this.”

  “OK. Show me how.” Reggie took another drink.

  After hearing his patient let out a shriek of fear, Marcus laughed. It was turning out to be a better night than he had expected.

  SANITY…

  I’m still in a state of disbelief. It seems as if it all were a dream, like something out of a “B” horror film. The dark thundering sky, the castle in the background, forces of good and evil battling until good had won out and the skies turned light. I wonder what would have happened to the sky if we had lost.

  It doesn’t end there. More is coming. I can’t even imagine what the final battle will be like. Will we have enough people? Enough will? God must be intervening in our fights. I, for one, never really trained, yet I frightened them all away. Michael and Reggie were phenomenal.

  I also must have put some sort of fear into Michael. It’s true; I haven’t been my best with him. I blame him for the mental torture she’s been going through. I gave up time with Reggie because of his consumption and jealousy over any sort of intimacy between us. I think that fueled my resentment.

  However, I lost a good portion of that resentment last night, and it had nothing to do with the battle. For the first time in a long time, he freely allowed Reggie to spend time wit
h me. He didn’t linger or lurk, or burst in to make sure we weren’t touching. He trusted that we wouldn’t, and slept with certainty that his own threshold of intimacies with Reggie would not be breached.

  I suppose I should feel some guilt over making love to her, but I don’t. I feel a gratitude, because I needed that more than anything. I needed Reggie. Period.

  It gave me the strength to hold on, go on, and realize that there will be an end to all this. Michael insists that this might go on for years, but my instincts tell me differently.

  It’s going to end soon, and though I am certain we will win, I am also certain that somehow, some way, this isn’t going to end all good.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Seville, Ohio

  There was something familiar about the newcomer, Darryl. Reggie saw it; Marcus didn’t. Kyle figured out right away that Darryl was the same sergeant who stopped them at a roadside checkpoint before the world fell apart. En route back home, dressed in country bumpkin attire, Kyle and Reggie snuck Marcus over the line. Darryl let them through. Once Reggie figured this out, she developed a ridiculous determination to make Darryl remember them. Kyle beckoned, “Leave the man alone, he doesn’t remember,” but it didn’t settle her. Kyle was grateful that he was finally able to jar Darryl’s memory, because Reggie was on the verge of donning her Lester the Hick costume.

  Before everyone went about their business after breakfast, there were other things they needed to discuss. Kyle allowed Reggie two repetitions of “What a small world,” then moved the conversation forward.

  “A shield?” Kyle asked. “I don’t get it, Michael. Why have Marcus as a shield? It’s Marcus.”

  “Gee thanks, Kyle.” Marcus shook his head. “But it makes me curious too. I’m no warrior. Why was I able to frighten the demons?”

  Michael replied, “You did have something to do with it. But it had nothing to do with skill or frightening them. It had everything to do with the fact that you created Devante. There is a certain power in that. With me, you can make me bleed like mortal man. But as Devante’s creator, you are a father. Therefore, if he kills you, he ceases to exist.”