“Well, here we are in the last hall,” Alexander
waived forward with his hand. “This is one of my favorite sections of the
museum, it holds our collection of rare books.”
Alan did his best at a smile. The
trio walked forward passing a closed-door bolted shut. What caught Alan’s
attention was that the door was equipped with not one, but three heavy padlocks.
Before this, they had encountered closed doors but never one that was so
obviously guarded against intruders. “Alexander?” Alan said.
Their guide turned with a smile, “Yes?”
“What’s in there?”
Alexander titled his head to the side and paused
for a moment. There was no doubt the man was measuring Alan’s question,
deciding if it was innocent or called for further notice. “Well, that portion
of the museum is closed off. It leads to the cellar. Nothing there to see
except rusted metal and moldy wood. Now if you would come along—“
Alan knew it was now or never.
“What if we were interested in old and worn art? Just the other day
Dani—my wife was asking to see things in their naturally worn state instead
of refurbished and restored.”
“I was?” Danielle asked with large eyes.
Alan nudged her sharply in the
ribs. “Oh,” Danielle said. “I mean, I was. Yes, may we see the cellar? I find
old moldy stuff sooooo… fascinating.”
Alexander’s charisma vanished in a second. He took
a step back from Alan and Danielle. “No, I’m sorry you may not. Now please come
along. The tour is almost at an end.”
Alan was running out of ways to
manipulate the situation without having to come out and directly say they were there
to see the celestial weapons. The hall silenced as both Danielle and Alexander
looked at Alan. The next move belonged to him. “What’s in there exactly?” he
said.
Alexander’s hands clenched in to fists. Before he
could answer, a strong female voice broke
the
tense silence. “Can we stop pretending that we all don’t know what’s really going
on here? No one in this room is an idiot. We all know what you want. You won’t
get it.”
Alan wheeled around to confront the voice. He
hadn’t the slightest clue that someone managed to sneak up on him. There was no
sound of feet on ancient
carpet; no noise from the door
opening behind them that led from the outside courtyard. Now Alan couldn’t believe
he had missed them. A redheaded woman stood tall and commanding, flanked by a
man and woman that rivaled Jericho for size. The sensation of chilled air and a
fresh breeze floated through the open door trying to lul Alan into a false
sense of comfort.
“The couple that you are
impersonating just called. They regretted to inform us that they were going to
be late today. Who are you?”
If Alan was nervous before the woman had made her appearance,
he didn’t know how to describe how he felt now. She wasn’t threatening him, yet
Alan couldn’t help but feel the sense that the woman was a viper, ready to
strike at a moment’s notice.
“You’re right,” Danielle said
speaking for the first time. “We lied. I lied to get us in. It was a gutsy call
but we needed to gain access to the museum.”
“Thieves, Sera, that is what they are,” the muscular
woman standing next to the redhead said with a snarl.
“No,” Alan said fighting away the
panic from his voice. “We never meant to steal the weapons. We came here to ask
to borrow them.”
The man and woman flanking the woman named Sera started
to chuckle. Even Alexander, who now stood behind him, began to laugh. The only
one that did not seem amused was the redheaded woman in charge. “You are not
the first people to come looking for the weapons. I’m sure you will not be the
last. Do you know what happens to those who seek to take the celestial
weapons?”
There was no denying the menace in
her voice. Alan knew what she was suggesting. “You kill them.”
“Yes, we kill them. Then we find out where they
came from and send back their heads as a warning to those who would seek to
take them in the future.”
“Oh, this was a bad idea,” Danielle
whispered.
“No,” Alan said fighting back the fear that grasped
for a physical hold on his stomach. “We aren’t like the others. We don’t want
them for personal gain. I don’t even want them at all. We just need to borrow
them for a war against the Fallen and their Nephilim. They have found the Chronicle
that has instructions to build new celestial weapons. They raised the fallen
statue created from the melted weapons after the war in Heaven. In days –
who knows, maybe hours – they will be ready to strike. We need the
weapons to fight them. We need your help.”
Sera raised a red eyebrow. “Well,
that is a new one. Most people beg for their lives at this point. At least they
try to lie. The truth is a different approach.”
“So you’ll help us?” Alan said.
“I didn’t say that. We know what is
going on outside of these walls. We know Michael, the other Angels and their
Nephilim have failed. We don’t care. That doesn’t concern us. Our task is to
guard the weapons. Nothing more.”
Alan couldn’t believe his ears. The Death Angels
knew what was happening and were content to stand by and let the events that
would destroy the world transpire. “You what? If you know all of this, then
help us. You have to realize that if the Fallen destroy the Angels they will
come for humanity and you next.”
“Well, then we will let them come.
And when they do, they will see why we stand apart from other Angels. We have
never known defeat and we will never fall to anyone.”
The man and woman behind her both nodded with
narrowed eyes.
“This is crazy,” Alan knew calling
a group of near immortal beings crazy probably wasn’t the smartest idea. He was
done playing it safe. “Help us. If you won’t lend us the weapons, use them
yourselves and fight with us. You sided against the demons once during the war
in Heaven. Do it again.”
“If you don’t,” Danielle added, “thousands of
Angels and Nephilim will die. Millions of humans will be slaughtered in a war
they will be helpless to fight.”
Despite their pleas, there was no
moving the woman. “Still, not my concern. If you leave now I may decide to
spare your lives. It sounds like Michael will need all the help he can get in
the coming hours.”
Hope was evaporating. Alan could taste defeat. He
knew from years of loneliness and depression what giving up would bring. He
refused now to be that person again, he would not be quiet, he wouldn’t stand
by. He knew now more than ever why the events of his life had happened as they
had. “I’m not leaving without your help. I can’t. People have died to get me
this far. Many more will die if I give up now.”
For the first time, Sera paused to
think over their words. Danielle took a step forward to stand beside him.
“Neither am I.”
“I’ll give you one last opportunity to leave under
your own power. I admire your heart, still there can be no victory for you
here.”
“I don’t want victory,” Alan said.
“I want to bring hope to the same people you once called brothers and sisters-in-arms.
I know what it’s like to not care about anyone else. I know what it’s like to
live a life alone and cut off from the world. I know how lonely you are. It
doesn’t have to be like this. You can still keep your vow of protecting the
weapons and come with us.”
For a second Alan thought he had won over the leader
of the Death Angels. She softened for a moment. Her face quivered as she
resonated with his words. However, determination was still in her voice when
she spoke. “Get out. Now.”
“No.”
No words accompanied the woman’s head motion. She
quickly pointed with her chin towards Alan and Danielle. The two warriors
beside her jumped to action.
“Sir, the last group of Nephilim are flying in
now. They will be here waiting for your orders within the hour.”
Michael sat straight in his chair
inside the warehouse conference room. He nodded to Esther. She was a great
soldier and an even better friend. The two had fought on the same side for
centuries. She had even known Ardat before the war in Heaven started. “Good,
thank you, Esther. With the Angels and the gathered Nephilim where does that
put our number?”
Esther looked down at the electronic tablet she
carried. Her green eyes scanned the screen up and down. “We’ll have 10,000 Angels
and half as many Nephilim ready for battle. Angelica is insisting she is ready
for the confrontation. The only Angels staying out of the fight are those still
guarding Heaven’s gates.”
Michael drummed his fingers against
the cool steel of the conference room table. The tips of his fingers met the cold
metal only for the briefest seconds before he raised and drummed them again.
“Are you all right, sir?”
Michael filled his lungs and looked
up at Esther with the shadow of a smile. “I don’t know.” He hesitated then
voiced the question a leader should never ask aloud. “Do you think we can win?”
Esther looked down at her tablet as if the answer to
his question would appear somehow magically flowing across her screen. “Their
numbers don’t disturb me. They have more Nephilim but the Fallen are only a third
of our number. It’s the weapons that bother me. Still we defeated them before.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Win or lose, all we can do is our best.” Esther’s
voice changed as she broached a subject only the closest of Michael’s friends
were ever confident enough to speak of. “Michael, you must know by now who is
at the helm of this coup.”
“I do.”
“And you know that you may come face to face with
her on the battlefield.”
“It’s something I have dedicated
more time thinking about than I should. I don’t know if I can kill her, Esther.
No matter what she is doing or what she has done, I refuse to believe that the
woman I loved is completely gone. No matter how much she tries to deny or hide
it, I know there is still some measure of good left inside.”
Esther stood quiet. Michael’s gaze rested directly
in front of him on the table’s surface. He could feel Esther’s eyes on him. “Do
you think me a fool, Esther?”
“No, I think history needs more
people like you.”
Michael pursed his lips, making eye contact with
his friend. “Many will die. Whether we win or not, so many will die.”
“Many will be asked to sacrifice
for what they believe,” Esther restated. “Hope is not completely lost. I heard
two Nephilim volunteered to approach the Death Angels. However small their
chance may be, there is still a chance.”
Michael nodded. He even grinned as he remembered
Alan Price, the newest Nephilim, approaching him without shoes and volunteering
when no one else would. “Yes. For all our sakes, let us hope that Alan Price
discovers for himself what I know he is capable of.”
Esther opened her mouth to speak,
before her lips could form the words and push them into existence, her tablet
beeped a warning. Michael couldn’t see the message but if Esther’s expression
was any indication, the news was not good. He knew what she was reading before
she even moved to speak. Hundreds of Angels were scouring the globe to find
Ardat and her army. It was only a matter of time before one of them stumbled
upon her lair. “We found them, didn’t we?”
Esther’s face was pale as she looked up into the
sad eyes of her friend, “Yes, we did. You’re not going to believe this.”
Alan remembered the time he thought he was the
only one with the gift of supersonic speed. He thought back to when he could
sprint by anyone. When he was untouchable and free to do whatever he wanted
without fear of repercussion or anyone else being able to duplicate his power.
Those were good times. Times Alan found himself missing as he was hurled
through the air and sent crashing into the door that led to the museum’s
outside courtyard.
The two Death Angels who stood
beside Sera were as fast as he was if not faster. In a flash, they were beside
him. In half that time, the male struck him across the jaw and female lifted
him off the ground and hurled him towards the courtyard.
Alan crashed into the freshly cut grass and
tumbled across the manicured lawn before he came to a skidding halt. The smell
of grass and newly churned dirt consumed him as he struggled to his feet. The
four Death Angels walked though the door. Alexander, who had both of her arms
pinned behind her back, dragged a struggling Danielle in tow.
“Leave this place now,” Sera commanded.
“No, not without your help.”
Sera shook her head in disgust. She
looked to the man and woman who had thrown Alan outside. “Samson, Deborah, make
him want to leave. Make him beg to leave.”
Determined faces met his as the two Death Angels
advanced. Alan stood with feet planted shoulder width apart. Every muscle in
his body was tense and ready. Samson and Deborah were stronger, faster and more
experienced in warfare than Alan, still he possessed something they didn’t. He
possessed the fortitude and desperation to win.
Samson made his move first. The man
possessed the largest arms Alan had ever seen on anyone, human or supernatural.
The warrior vaulted into the air, right arm already cocked back ready to
deliver a punch. Alan met his attack head on as he too lunged forward and
lifted his right knee aiming for Samson’s jaw. Among the many things the Death Angel
was prepared to encounter, an all out attack was not one. Alan’s right knee
made contact with the underside of Samson’s jaw. With an unearthly crack, the
Death Angel was sent flying across the courtyard and into a tall stone statue
that decorated the museum’s courtyard. Both statue and Angel crumbled to the
ground amidst a pile of dust.