Read Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) Online
Authors: Jonathan Yanez
As the chant gathered in momentum
and volume Sera shouted instructions, “Alan, Jericho, with me. We’ll take out
the giants pushing back the front of the line. The rest of you slaughter the
Fallen who are encircling our brothers and sister.”
The scene was unlike anything Alan
had ever experienced. The chant was a shout now, a roar that started deep
within the chest of each warrior and exploded into the air. Energy encircled
the group; adrenaline flowed to every bone and muscle in Alan’s body.
Alan inverted his body and forced
his wings to carry him downward. He could see Sera and Jericho break away from
the pack and head towards the opposite end of the battlefield. Alan said a
silent prayer and beat his wings as hard as he could in their direction.
Chapter 68
Blood flowed from multiple cuts
across Michael’s body. All around him, the Fallen’s superior weapons and
freshness to the battle were overpowering the Angels, despite their valiant
efforts. Although not much time had elapsed between when the first wave of
enemies hit their front ranks and now, it was still enough to tire his Angels
who traveled for hours before engaging in battle.
Michael wasn’t sure how far his
ragged voice could be heard but he knew others would pass down the order.
Without warning, the enemy crashed into their ranks again. Audible and physical
elements permeated the air. The Fallen were much stronger than their Nephilim
underlings. Each crash from the enemy brought not only a physical push but the
wide variety of enemy abilities also bore down on them. Electric shocks, pointed
icicles the size of spears and buckets of acid left Angels broken and bloodied.
Darkness covered Michael’s vision.
He prepared himself for his final moments but something was wrong. His eyes
weren’t closed, yet darkness still shaded him. The leathery fingers around his
throat eased off as demons all around him cried out in fear. Angels were
cheering. Michael’s attackers fell away from him as he raised himself on his
elbows.
Chapter 69
Alan had to tear his eyes from the
mayhem of battle below. There was no time to take in the scene around him;
there was only time to react. Sera and Jericho were already in conflict with
the first giant.
As Alan considered his options, Sera
sprang to action. The female leader of the Death Angels landed on the giant’s
right shoulder; in the next second, she swung the blade of her sword across the
giant’s throat. It was a perfect strike, landing between the bottom of her
opponent’s helmet and above the ridge of his breastplate. Alan fought the urge
to vomit as the oversized head fell to the ground with a sickening smack. Alan
did his best to swallow the remains of his last meal before they insisted on
also landing on the sand.
A cheer rose as the giant fell but
Alan knew their work was far from done. Sera and Jericho were already on their
way to the next giant. Alan felt that even though they could handle the giants
on their own it was his duty to help wherever he could. Instead of charging the
same large enemy they chose as their next target he directed his path towards
another,
Here we go,
Alan said to
himself willing his wings to pick up speed. Sword held tightly in his right
hand, he flapped towards his enemy, gaining momentum by the second. He was
planning to hit the giant’s left side with his sword and the full force of his
weight, hoping that would be enough to topple his foe. Alan never got the
opportunity to see if his plan would work. From amidst the chaos of battle below
Dominic Drencher and Kyle Brown appeared out of nowhere. They launched
themselves up off the ground and through the air. Both men tackled Alan before
he reached his target.
The world spun and contorted around
him until Alan thought he was going to be sick after all. Still he managed to
keep them airborne. What seemed like a full minute passed before exhaustion
took Alan. With one final grunt, Alan decided that if he was going to go down,
he was going to cause his enemies to suffer with him. Unsure of how high off
the ground he was, Alan consented to the sand’s harsh embrace. Forcing both
wings closed behind him, all three men plummeted to the desert floor.
Kyle was on Alan’s left side
clutching on like a small monkey onto its mother for safety; Dominic was holding
on to Alan’s chest and shoulders tugging every few seconds in an effort to
bring him down. Alan had a moment to choose who should withstand the worst of
the blow. Even as the question presented itself, he knew.
Alan plummeted to the hot sand
below at a speed approaching Mach 1. Releasing his sword, he prayed he would be
able to find the blade again despite the chaos below. Both hands free he
grabbed Dominic under the armpits and lifted him up until the two foes were
engaged in an awkward embrace. Instantly, Dominic’s struggling stopped.
Alan didn’t know where he was for a
moment. Disoriented, he stumbled from his landing spot. They were in a
completely different portion of the battlefield. Instead of giants and Nephilim
waging war around them, Angels with white and black wings battled against what
Alan could only guess were the Fallen. By the time Alan’s mind stopped spinning
and he was able to make sense of his surroundings, Dominic Drencher was
struggling to his feet.
Alan forced himself to stand
straight as images of their first and second meetings came to mind. Fear and
anxiety told him to stay still and motionless. The anger lying deep within told
him to take action before his enemy had the chance to gather himself.
Dominic leaned down to the desert
floor and picked up an abandoned sword. The blade was clearly one of the
Fallen’s new weapons. Fresh gore dripped off the dark blade in thick clumps.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Alan,” Dominic shouted over the uproar of war.
“This is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me. Maybe even as much
as your two friends you lost on the ship when you got those flashing blue rave
wings.”
Alan felt rage swell in his heart
at the mention of his dead friends. Instead of words, he felt his wrath take
the form of physical action. His legs began to churn underneath him.
With a laugh befitting a maniac,
Dominic began sending bolts of explosive energy at Alan. On instinct more than intention,
Alan’s wings moved forward and swatted away every explosive attack Dominic
launched. No pain touched his wings as they made contact with Dominic’s power
or explosive energy. No burning flesh wafted to his nostrils.
Alan’s speed saved him once again.
His right hand caught Dominic’s left arm at the wrist. Dominic roared in anger
unable to move under Alan’s superior strength. The dark Nephilim began charging
yet another blast of explosive energy in his right hand. Alan prepared to
intercept the attack. What he wasn’t prepared for was Kyle’s reentry to the
fight.
Alan felt Kyle jump on his back and
place a forearm around his throat. “What are you doing, Alan? It doesn’t have
to be like this. You can still join us. We can rule over the humans together.
We aren’t weak anymore. We have powers that will make us gods among men.”
The red energy charge in Dominic’s
right hand was still growing. Sweat beaded down the madman’s face as he
prepared to deliver a devastating blow to Alan’s chest. He was so close, Alan
could smell the sulfur building; he could see the madness in Dominic’s dilated
pupils. “Today is the day you finally die, you blue-winged freak!”
Alan could feel Kyle’s hold ease
the slightest bit in confusion at his surprising comment. Dominic also
hesitated for a split second before a wicked smile spilt his lips. “That’s the
spirit, Alan. If things only could have been different, we may have been friends.
Well, see you in the next life, kid.” Dominic pressed his right hand holding
the massive amount of stored swirling red energy to Alan’s chest.