Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) (23 page)

BOOK: Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles)
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Much too soon the jet passed overhead, providing
Alan an entrance to the plane’s small cargo area. The jet itself was compact
and only meant to fit a dozen occupants at the most. This space was now packed
from floor to ceiling with bright gold, silver, dark grey and even black pieces
of armor and weapons.

Alan urged his wings to steady his
momentum as he fought the backdraft the jet left in its wake. With concentrated
effort, he stabilized himself enough to fly forward and land on the tip of the
jet’s open cargo doors.

He should have tried to land deeper in the jet’s
interior. Legs wobbled underneath his weight, reminding him that despite
Danielle’s best effort to heal him his body was still weary from the fight with
the Death Angels. Alan spun his arms at either side trying to find his balance.
Just when he thought was going to fall out and find himself learning how to
stop a plunging fall with his new found wings, Sera appeared from behind a stack
of armor and grabbed him with a firm hand. “Easy there. We can’t have you
leaving us just yet. Not when there’s a battle you talked us into joining still
to be fought.”

Alan found his balance and smiled
with gratitude. He wasn’t exactly sure how Sera would treat him after their
confrontation but it seemed as though the female warrior harbored no ill will.
“Thanks, I’m not sure how long these things will take to get used to.” To
Alan’s surprise, his pulsing blue wings folded neatly on his back as he stepped
further into the rear of the jet.

Sera measured Alan with a sideways stare, focusing
on his wings then lingering on his chest and arms. Breaking the silence, Alan
asked what they were both thinking. “What do you think their made of?”

Sera slowly shook her head from
side to side. With no verbal answer, she reached out a tentative hand. Alan
moved to tell her to stop. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the leader
of the group of Angels heading to assist him in the coming battle. Alan felt
his wings quiver under her touch.
Oh, please don’t shock her or do anything
crazy,
he thought.

Nothing, nothing happened. Sera gently
stroked his wings. The blue appendages that only recently made themselves known
trembled under her touch. The sensation her of hand on his wings seemed warm: like
someone letting their fingertips trail down a shirtless back. Alan could feel
his skin begin to tingle.

“They are beautiful,” she said.

“Thanks. I don’t know how to turn
them off or on yet. Since our fight, they haven’t disappeared.”

Sera moved to stand behind Alan letting her hands
travel to his upper back, near his shoulder blades, where his wings tore holes
through his white shirt and sprouted from his back. “Well, let’s hope they
don’t go anywhere soon. You’ll need them in the fight to come.”

Coughing coming from the jet
cockpit interrupted further conversation. Alan and Sera both looked up like
small children caught doing something wrong. Danielle stood in the doorway with
raised eyebrows. “Is it show and tell time?”

Alan felt Sera remove her hands in one quick
motion. “We were discussing Alan’s new wings. I haven’t seen wings on any
Nephilim. They are reserved for Angels and Angels alone. It is rather curious.
I wonder what it means.”

“Hmmm…” Danielle said skewing Alan
with a murderous stare. “Yes, curious.”

Alan shrugged with both hands lifting from either
side of his body. “I came in to see if there would be any extra armor for me. I
thought it would be best to get ready before we reach the fight.”

Danielle still held her
disapproving stance but was willing to let Alan change the subject. “Yeah,
that’s why I came back here. To let you know that we are only an hour away from
the coordinates Michael gave us.”

Without offering a word of explanation, Sera
crossed the small space between Danielle and Alan to the many racks of armor
and weapons against the jet wall. Her hands reached for and lifted the same
sword Alan used during their own fight earlier that day. Once again, Alan
couldn’t help but feel the sword call to him. It was as if the ancient piece of
metal was meant to be his all these years and through some strange bond, both
weapon and wielder knew this to be true. The hilt was made of steel and worn brown
leather. The blade itself was one deadly piece of ancient artistry measuring three
feet in length. “I think this should be yours.”

Alan reached for the offered
blade’s hilt. Excitement ran through his fingers and tingled up his arm. He
waived the sword in small motions slicing the air. Although Danielle was in no danger,
she took a step back anyway.

“It feels great,” Alan said.

“Good,” Sera said turning from him.
“Now let’s find you some armor worthy of that blade.”

 

Chapter 64

 

The first crash of battle left
Michael’s ears ringing. On the front line with his men and women, he was among
the first to draw blood. A stout enemy Nephilim in angelic armor singled him
out. Dressed in dark defense gear, the Nephilim carried a long poorly crafted spear.
Just before impact, the Nephilim stopped and opened his mouth wide. Unsure what
to expect, Michael tensed wings ready for flight.

Fire jumped from the man’s throat. Through rotting
teeth and breath, which Michael could smell despite their distance, a flame
consumed the air between them. Both wings coming full force, Michael beat at the
oncoming flames with a burst of air. The gust from his wings was so powerful that
it redirected the fire back to its owner. The dark Nephilim leaped out of the
way just in time to avoid his own attack.

Wasting no time, Michael closed the
distance, ripped the weapon from the man’s hand and sent the spear blade first
deep within his gut. Twisting and turning in one motion, he withdrew the blade
leaving organs and blood to ooze out in its wake. The Nephilim looked down at
his wound with an open mouth before falling to the same sand that soaked up his
blood like a man dying of thirst.

Michael took no pleasure in his actions. They were
something that needed to be done. Instead of gawking at his kill, he took
flight and moved on to the next kill, the next and the next. Enemy Nephilim
after enemy Nephilim fell to him all in the matter of seconds. His men were
holding better than he expected. The only issues were the giants. Just as
Michael was moving to dispatch one of the six colossal human beings, he heard
his name shouted over the din. Reeling around he found Angelica clutching a war
hammer whose red stain spoke of its work. “Michael!”

All senses on overdrive Michael
gave her his full attention. “Yes, are you alright?”

The female Nephilim nodded. “I’m fine but they
aren’t here. None of them are here.”

Michael considered the implication
of her words. His brain performed a mental checklist until he found meaning
behind her thoughts. Against all odds, they were managing to hold against a
more powerful enemy. Michael himself had dispatched dozens of them himself. The
work was far from easy; still it was not the fight he had expected. The dark
Nephilim were falling quickly—Michael paused as horror struck his eyes.
The Fallen. There were no members of the Fallen race on the enemy side. Thus far,
they had only sent their Nephilim to fight. “It’s a trap,” he said.

Angelica nodded. “I fear so.”

Before Michael could shout orders,
Caleb and Esther swooped down beside him. “Reports from the rear say there are
numerous smaller parties headed in our direction,” Caleb said holding on to a
bloody left shoulder.

“It’s the Fallen,” Michael said through clenched
teeth. “So far this battle has all been a ploy to draw us in the open while
they surround us.”

“But how?” Esther asked taking a
knee in the soft sand. “How did they get behind us? How were they able to
surround us so quickly?”

“A tunnel system; caves,” Michael paused as he
remembered the small goblin like creature that transported Ardat into his tent.
Was that yet another hint for him? Some kind of shadow message revealing her
plans?
“They could have teleported, too. It doesn’t
matter.” Fear sought to take Michael’s heart in that moment. So far, they were
able to stand toe to toe with the enemy but these were only the enemy Nephilim.
The true test of their strength was yet to come. “How far are they?”

Caleb shook his head before
spitting out an answer, “Minutes, less if they have the ability of speed.”

“Angelica, lead our Nephilim and hold this
position. Take out the giants next; they're the ones doing the most damage. Caleb,
Esther, with me. We aren’t going to let defeat take us this day. Round up as
many of the Angels as you can. We’re going to meet them head on.”

 

Chapter 65

 

Alan felt like a modern-day knight. Silver armor
caught the sun at every angle. He could only imagine what his bright armor and
blue wings looked like to everyone else. Along with his weapon and battle suit,
Sera also provided him with a long white cloak, the traditional battle garb of
the Death Angels. A deep-set hood covered his blond hair, taking the place of
any helmet. He wore his colors with pride and flapped his wings in the company
of twelve others dressed like him.

Silver armor and white cloaks
marked them all as Death Angels. The only thing that set them apart were the
weapons they chose to carry. Swords and spears seemed to be the most common
choices yet axes, maces, war hammers and shields were also present and
accounted for.

The ocean below fell away beneath them as they
sped onward towards the fight. Sera instructed the group to gain altitude and
fly above the cloud layer to ensure their presence would go undetected. The
thirteen warriors and Danielle kept the same blinding pace as they closed the
distance to the fight.

Alan was lost thinking about how he
had never been on any kind of team before, either sports or academic. He
wondered if this counted now. Samson and Deborah appeared on either side of him
breaking his train of thought. “So, what do you think?” Samson asked.

“About what?” Alan asked.

“You know, the weapons and armor.
Feels right, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess it does.”

“Have you ever been in a battle
before?” Deborah asked from his other side. “I mean an actual war encompassing
thousands of soldiers?”

Alan bit back a sarcastic comment and settled with
shaking his head. “No, I don’t think I have.”

“Everything is going to happen
quickly,” she said. “Keep moving and stay close to us.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Samson said. “React
first and trust your instincts. They’ve seen you safely this far already.”

Alan felt goose bumps cover him
from head to toe. He hoped it was the cool rush of the wind and not anxiety preparing
to rear its familiar head. Thus far he chose not to think of the looming fight,
whether or not this was the best option, it had kept him from falling victim to
his nerves.

Shouts from the Angels that led the front of the
group drifted down to the trio. Samson and Deborah caught the words that
escaped Alan. “What did he say?” Alan asked.

“Two minutes out,” Samson said
reaching for the giant axe that hung by his side.

“You are going to be fine, Alan Price,” Deborah
said. “You are one of us now and we take care of our own.”

 

Chapter 66

 

Everything was going to plan. Ardat hovered above
the fight using her ability over gravity to either send her attackers sky rocketing
into the atmosphere or plunging them down to the desert floor with such force
they were buried deep within the sand. It was nothing to her. These actions
required little thought or effort; it was child’s play.

With a flick of her wrist, Ardat
could dispatch almost anyone. Sweat ran down from her temples past her nose and
to the corners of her mouth. Liquid salt puckered her taste buds as she
continued to fight. She lost count on how many of her enemies she killed
somewhere around thirty-four. They were ants to her. The only time anyone came
close to doing her harm was when one younger Angel managed to sneak up behind
her using his power of invisibility.

Ardat felt the pressure of gravity change behind
her just in time to catch him as he raced towards her on white wings. She smiled
at him before sending him rocketing backward like a missile. His tiny form was
almost lost to sight before he crashed into the mountain she used as her
hideout, his body no doubt breaking on impact.

Ardat brought a sleeved arm to her
brow to clear her vision. The battle scene was changing. Dominic followed
through with his orders. Angels were pulling back from the fight with her dark Nephilim
and regrouping. No doubt following Michaels orders to meet the new threat
surrounding them.
Soon Michael,
Ardat said to herself calmly amidst the
chaos on the bloody sand.
Soon there will be no more war and we will be free
to be together again.

 

Chapter 67

 

Alan wasn’t sure what he expected
to see but the scene that lay sprawled out below him was unlike anything his
imagination could have conjured. Masses of swirling figures hundreds of feet
below them fought and died on the sun-heated sand. Even from such a great distance,
Alan could hear cries of the dying. Too far to distinguish exact guttural cries,
Alan’s mind was left to give words to the shouts below.

The Death Angels formed a circle around Sera who
flapped her black wings slowly allowing her to hover in one spot. Alan had a more
difficult time with this as his wings fought to discover the correct cadence to
keep him still in one place. Behind him, Alan could feel the gust of wind that
marked Danielle’s passing. She was going to find a safe spot to land and
against Alan’s pleas for her to remain safe, join the fight.

All eyes now were on Sera as she
surveyed the scene below and barked instructions. “History is full of men
talking about peace. Peace is not attainable without soldiers willing to
sacrifice. Everyone wants to talk about victory as if it's something easily
attained without sacrifice. Well it’s times like these that you and I give our
sweat and blood to make victory a reality.”

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