Apocalypse Soldier (9 page)

A dark silhouette peeled from the shadows.
 

She blinked, thinking at first she was looking at one of the soldiers. But this outline appeared slightly elongated, lacking in detail, a shadow come to life. The cultists remained oblivious, unable to see the entity that had joined their circle. The demon revealing itself only to its intended target. She couldn’t avert her gaze, transfixed by the approaching horror.
 

And as the shadow closed in on the pentagram, drawn to it like a beacon in the night, she saw the others. Six more dark silhouettes broke away from the walls, almost as if the shadows of the soldiers had come to unnatural life.
 

All together she counted seven of them.

Seven demons.

Ice crept up her throat and her heart pounded against her ribcage. Something far worse than death was approaching, and there was no escape. How could she prevail against such superior numbers? She had failed to defeat one demon and now she was up against seven of them. Her lips quivered as she mouthed a weak prayer that was quickly drowned out by the rising voices of the cult. Dark triumph gleamed in the apocalypse soldier’s eyes. He’d recognized her mounting fear and understood its origin.
 

The demon was among them, ready to claim its prize.

A devastating sound like a sonic assault overwhelmed the chanting voices. It felt almost as if the outside noise had given voice to the terror and torment raging within her. What was happening?

She felt heat wafting through the air and realized it was coming from outside the barn. The cult members’ joint ecstasy gave way to alarm and Amon’s chanting faltered. Even the advancing horde of living shadows seemed to pause.

As Amon and his flock turned toward the barn’s exit, staccato bursts of machine gun fire sounded, followed by a second loud boom.
 

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

THE DETONATOR INSIDE the plastic explosive fired and the pick-up truck went supernova, erupting in a volcano of steel and heat. A column of sooty flame geysered skyward before the gasses rushed back toward the center of the explosion, triggering a second, inward wave of energy.
 

The conflagration lit up the night, singeing Talon’s eyebrows and driving the air from his lungs. As the last pieces of flaming debris slammed into the sandy terrain with devastating force, Talon slipped on one of the dead guard’s ski masks and snatched his AK-47. Flames painted his masked face crimson, transforming him into just another cult member
 

His plan was simple. First, lure the enemy out of the barn with the explosion and slip inside during the confusion. Next, locate Nicole, extract her, and head to the airfield. He’d planted a total of five charges, hoping to take out the cult’s wheels. The only pursuit vehicles left would be the motorcycles.
 

The first explosion definitely got their attention. Already, shouts sounded from within the stables as the cultists responded to the unexpected attack.
 

He counted down the seconds to the next detonation. A few beats later, another charge went off, releasing nitrogen, carbon oxides, and other gasses at an explosive velocity of 8.092 meters per second. This time the C-4 vaporized a van and transformed the vehicle into a fearsome vortex of steel. Nearby, the fenced-in horses reared and whinnied in panic. He felt sorry for causing such distress to the animals, but he was certain they would be safe in their grazing area.
 

Soldiers emerged from the stables, machine guns ready. Talon mirrored them, blending in with the crowd—just another soldier in the army of darkness responding to the surprise attack. More shouts cut through the night as they stumbled upon the dead guards. Two more explosions were timed to go off in one-minute intervals, so he would have to move fast.
 

As the soldiers surged toward the blazing vehicles, Talon caught a glimpse of the towering figure in charge of this nightmare brigade. Even though he’d been forewarned by Cabrera’s description, the sight of the man-beast affected him on an atavistic level. Maybe it was his Catholic upbringing, but seeing the red-skinned, horned soldier quickened his pulse and turned his blood to ice.
 

It required a concentrated effort to shake off the paralyzing wave of superstitious fear and focus on the inhuman figure. The first impression was that of a medieval demon made flesh. The roaring fires brightening the night only added to that impression. According to Cabrera, the cult leader believed himself to be Amon, a demon in command of an infernal legion. Talon wondered if this soldier of the apocalypse was channeling the darkness in the same way Zagan had in Silicon Valley. Was this black magic distorting malleable flesh? Or was it a form of extreme body modification, the work of someone trying to live up to some misguided ideal? The quickest way to test Amon’s powers would be to put a bullet into his head. It would be all too easy during the confusion. Unfortunately such a short-lived victory would most likely come at the cost of his own life. Despite having a clean shot, he resisted the temptation to pull the trigger.
 

Talon averted his gaze to avoid catching Amon’s attention. From the corner of his eye, he watched as the cult leader with the devil face closed in on the nearest pick-up. This new charge was timed to go off any second now, and the blast would erase the monster from this reality. As the countdown ticked down, Amon advanced toward the truck and spotted the C-4. Instead of cutting a hasty retreat, he continued his approach.

Amon kneeled before the charge, his massive hand with its elongated nails closing around the C-4 as it was about to go off. Talon waited for a boom that never came.
 

He couldn’t believe it. How had Amon disarmed the explosive? And he was now turning his focus to the next bomb.
 

He knows
, Talon realized.
Somehow he knows about the timing of the charges.

Talon had no idea what terrible power fueled Amon’s abilities. He could theorize about what he’d seen
ad naueseam
with Casca once the girl was safe. For now, he needed to concentrate on his original objective.
 

He pulled himself away from Amon’s magnetic presence and darted into the stables, moving with singular purpose. The supernatural events were irrelevant. All his energies were now fixed on the rescue mission.
 

He passed the empty pens and brushed past a few troopers headed the other way. A sudden scream pierced the stables, and he realized he might be too late. The cry had come from the writhing figure at the center of the barn. Three soldiers surrounded Nicole, who was splayed out in a red circle, hands and feet zip-tied. She screamed again and shifted away from the edge of the circle as if she were facing down invisible assailants. Perhaps she was? Were demons drawing closer, visible only to the victim facing possession?

The pentagram amulet around his neck heated up, singing the skin under his black shirt and making his chest hair stand up. Casca had given him the Sumerian pendant back in Silicon Valley, a relic that protected him from the influence of the supernatural while allowing him to sense the
darkness
. Without a doubt, black magic was at work here.
 

The demons are here… I’m too late…

The three guards barely paid him any mind, their wide eyes riveted on the squirming woman battling her phantom attackers. Their expression of dark wonder never even wavered, not even when Talon shot the first soldier twice in the chest. Two more muffled pops followed, and the other masked cultists collapsed onto the straw-covered floor. The woman in the pentagram barely registered the action, consumed with her own battle. As their eyes met, Talon recognized the terror and helplessness in them.
 

A second later, Nicole’s gaze turned black and her lips distorted into a scream as she tore her zip-ties apart with inhuman strength. She took three steps out of the circle and collapsed, heaving and choking. The moment passed and her breathing normalized, her dark eyes clearing. No trace of the supernatural presence remained. She was simply a young, frightened woman who thought she was staring up at one of her hellish captors.

There was no doubt in Talon’s mind that some evil force had briefly touched her. Had she repelled the supernatural invader? Or was her return to normalcy merely a brief interlude before the full-blown effects of possession took hold of her? These were questions that only Casca and Cabrera could answer with any degree of certainty. His job was to get her out of this place.
 

Talon sensed she desperately needed to see a human face and pulled off the ski mask while offering her a gloved hand. She stared at him with blank incomprehension, face coated with perspiration, shirt stiff with dried blood.

“I’m not one of them. I’m going to get you out of here. How badly are you injured? Can you move?”
 

She didn’t respond. He had to tell her something to make her trust him and ensure her cooperation.
 

“Father Cabrera sent me.”

He eyes lit up at the mention of the priest’s name, his words finally reaching her.

Right on time, too, as the yells were becoming louder outside the stables. The soldiers were returning.
 

“Come with me.”

Nicole took Talon’s outstretched hand, the shredded zip-ties still dangling from her wrist, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Seconds later, they were running to the rear exit, sounds of the fast approaching soldiers growing louder behind them.

***

One by one, her captors turned away from her, distracted by the attack. Nicole had no idea who or what was starting World War III outside the stables—and truth be told, she had bigger, more pressing concerns on her mind. The phantom shadows circling her showed no interest in the events transpiring beyond the walls of the stables. Their full attention was fixed on her as they continued their inexorable approach, drawing closer and closer. Amon shot her one final, knowing glance before following his men outside.
He knows
, she thought.
He may not be able to see the demons but he senses their presence. Recognizes my fear.
 

Only three soldiers remained as the others rushed out of the barn, the armed trio utterly oblivious to the advancing horror.

Did the explosions mean that help was on the way? Had the cops, through some miracle, managed to track down her whereabouts? Yeah, right. Last time she checked, the police didn’t announce their arrival by blowing stuff up. Besides, even if the authorities were coming, they’d be too late to spare her from the gruesome horde closing in on the red circle.
 

Nothing could save her.

Nevertheless, she wouldn’t just roll over and do nothing. She strained against her zip-ties with all her might, surprised by her own will to survive. The entities approached in jerky, staccato jump cuts. They flanked the men guarding her for one second before popping up right in front of her.
 

No…

All rational thoughts gave way to explosive terror as the first of the spectral shadows lunged into the pentagram. The darkness was upon her. A final, desperate scream burst from her lungs as the shadow creature pounced. It felt like hundreds of knives tearing into her skin, setting every nerve ending on fire. The world turned gray and cold and dead, bleached of all color, a shimmering photo negative of reality.
 

This is how these demons see our world
, Nicole realized with a mixture of horror and morbid awe. The physical-spiritual contact with the demon erased the last eight years and she was fifteen again, her arms restrained by a straightjacket, her world reduced to the padded walls of her hospital room.
 

The guards were pulsating bags of meat and bone, grotesque and half-formed to her changed perception. Sounds seemed amplified as the men’s hearts pounded away in their frail, mortal shells. So weak… so vulnerable. She felt sudden disgust at their base humanity, forgetting that she too belonged to this pathetic, stinking species of talking apes.
 

Though Nicole fought against it, a cold, alien intelligence of pure evil was rearing its head and gaining control…taking over not only her body but her thoughts and feelings.

Worst of all, the other shadows were closing in, readying themselves to follow their leader. She had barely survived with one of these demons inside of her. They would destroy her, tear her apart. They didn’t care if she survived the terrors that lay ahead. She was just a means to an end, a stepping stone toward possessing stronger vessels. The incessant demonic voices continued to rise in volume, drowning out her own, infecting her soul.
 

Transforming her.

She caught movement from the corner of her eye. The man was garbed like the other soldiers but there was something different about this newcomer. He was made from the same weak material as all the others, but there was also a power there, a darkness that immediately captured the interest of the evil forces inside her.
 

The newcomer paused briefly, and they looked at each other. Fragments of thoughts danced at the edge of Nicole’s awareness.
 

…The darkness has touched him…

And then the man drew a pistol and shot the three guards.
 

The soldiers were dead by the time they hit the ground. The voices of the demons surged at the man’s lethal efficiency.

…
He is worthy…

Stop it!

…He will be perfect…

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

…We will make him our own…
 

LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!

Nicole heaved and writhed, muscles and bones twisting and contorting as if they were about to tear her ligaments apart, bending her near the breaking point. The zip-ties tore as a scream burst from her lips. And then…everything returned to normal. The strange whispers grew silent, her body once again her own.