Battle Angel (18 page)

T
om scornfully looked out onto the flight deck at the helicopter waiting to take him away from his duty. The crew was just waiting for Maddy to show up with her bag, and then he’d be whisked away. He was a pilot in the U.S. Navy, and this was his country’s darkest hour. He felt sick.

He’d been under guard since they notified him of Linden’s decision to take him and Maddy to safety, away from the battle. Tom knew that Jackson had cut this deal with the president, and just thinking about it made him nearly blind with rage. He was supposed to be fighting, not running away. Even if he was supposed to be running away with Maddy . . .

The officer in charge looked at his watch.

“Williams, will you go hurry Lieutenant Commander Montgomery? We were supposed to depart three minutes ago.”

The petty officer saluted and went belowdecks to the living quarters. Tom looked up at the red tinge starting to appear on the horizon near Angel City.

Five minutes later, the officer returned, his face as white as a sheet.

“She’s gone,” he reported. “We can’t find her anywhere. She left this.” The crewman handed Tom a letter.

The pilot’s blood went cold.

Numbly, silently, Tom opened it. He could have predicted what it would say, but he never would have guessed how short it would be.

I’m sorry.—M

In shock, the pilot let the paper slip out of his hand and watched it drift slowly down to his feet. Everyone was silent. Tom just stared at the paper resting between his feet.

Suddenly he made a quick move to break past the crewmen waiting to escort him off the carrier, but they quickly cut him off and grabbed his arms, stopping his progress.

“No! No!
No!
” Tom struggled, his teeth grinding, spit running off his lip as he used every ounce of strength to escape.

“Lieutenant, calm down! Calm down or we’ll have to restrain you!”

Tom swung at one of the MPs, and before he knew it, three of them had him pinned to the ground.

“I’m sorry, sir, but this is an executive order. It doesn’t matter where the lieutenant commander is—we can’t wait for her. We have no time. She will have to meet you there.”

One of the MPs held him as the other bound his wrists together with a plastic tie.

“This is just until we get you there. It’s our ass if we lose you,” he said. “I apologize, sir.”

“Maddy . . .” His eyes were hollow as the MPs led him onto the helicopter.

The crewmen on board gave a thumbs-up, and the helicopter began rising off the flight deck.

Tom rested his head against the window and looked blankly out the scuffed glass from inside the chopper. His face was pale, like a specter of himself. Powerful gusts from the rotors of the helicopter and the crosswind off the ocean whipped his flight suit back and forth, but he didn’t even blink.

They began their journey to safety. Without Maddy.

• • •

“Lieutenant, I’m sorry we had to use force back there,” an MP said. “But orders are orders. You understand, don’t you?”

Tom didn’t reply. He just kept staring out the window.

Suddenly, he thought he caught a glimpse of a purple glow amid the clouds below.
Maddy’s wings?
He shifted to get a better look.

On second glance, he saw nothing. His eyes were just playing tricks on him.

In the distance, toward Angel City, Tom could see the battle unfolding. The demons were flying around to avoid heavy fire, and flashes of artillery and bombs lit the darkened, cloud-canopied sky. He could see that the battle was moving farther into Angel City proper. The Dark Angels had broken through the frontline defenses along the beach. Along the normally glamorous, palm-lined Wilshire Boulevard, tanks were firing as demons assaulted the military positions. Their rounds flew through the alleys between the shiny, glass-skinned Angel office buildings. It was bedlam. Destruction was moving slowly toward the heart of Angel City. Judgment had come for the Immortal City. Tom watched helplessly as the helicopter took him farther and farther away. Farther from the battle, and from Maddy.

Just then, Tom saw a battalion of Battle Angels moving forward in the sky against a contingent of demons. They all seemed to be moving as one chaotic group of good versus evil toward the center of Angel City. Jackson Godspeed would be there.

And Tom knew that’s where Maddy would be going, too.

He realized that it didn’t matter that where Jackson was she would be going, too. He realized that he loved her more than anyone he’d ever loved before, far deeper than any other he’d ever known. He would do anything to keep her alive. Even give his life for her, if it came to that.

Tom continued to watch out the window but kept his guards in his peripheral vision. They were engrossed in the spectacle outside, the ongoing battle, not paying attention to him.

Tom hadn’t endured months of Special Forces training for nothing. In one clean movement he leaned forward and jumped, swinging his bound arms out in front of him.

The MP didn’t have time to think before Tom’s elbow was bloodying his face, before Tom managed to pull his pistol out of the holster and train it on the other MPs. They put their hands up. He had them.

“Hell,” one of the MPs said, spitting on the ground.

“Cut this,” Tom said to the MP with the bloody nose motioning to the plastic wrist ties on his wrists. He trained the barrel of the pistol on the MP’s temple. “Just don’t make a quick movement with the knife. I’m allergic to knives. I’m liable to sneeze and I might pull a trigger.”

Within a few seconds, the wide-eyed MP had sawed through the plastic ties with the blade, and Tom’s wrists were free. He took the knife from the MP and disarmed the rest of the crewmen. Still keeping a pistol trained on the guards in the back, he moved toward the cockpit, where the pilot remained oblivious to the quick turn of events.

Through the cockpit’s glass, Tom could clearly see flashes of explosions continuing to light the horizon toward Angel City.

Tom tapped the pilot on the shoulder. He turned around, annoyed.

“What?” he asked in a grunt, but soon came up short.

Tom’s gun barrel met his gaze.

“I’m sorry. But we have an unscheduled stop.”

D
emons had begun to hurl themselves like live bombs into the Immortal City. They dropped down and curled up into balls of black fire and smoke, exploding violence and bedlam in the buildings and streets below. Fires blazed all across the Immortal City, roaring up from buildings into the dark night.

“Press harder!” Jacks shouted to his fellow Angels. A demon-bomb soared across the sky, and, launching himself with amazing precision, Jackson flew straight up and swung his sword at the exact right moment. A blinding light flashed off the blade as it cleaved the demon into two neat halves.

Mitch spotted another demon, this one flying lower, heading past their defenses to the palm-lined Halo Strip. He gave a cry and hurled himself toward the beast, setting his wings hard behind him as the dark wind ripped along their sharp feathers. Intersecting the Dark Angel from the side, Mitch smashed it against the enormous billboard of a beautiful Immortal that hung over Sunset Boulevard. As Mitch and the demon ripped through the advertisement and hurtled down toward the concrete below, they struggled in midair, smashing each other by turns into the luxury apartment building at their backs. Mitch launched himself against the demon, and they crashed into the atrium of the building across the street, where they grappled in the middle of the once-glittering Halo Strip. The demon managed to trip Mitch and fling him down to the ground, but Mitch used his wings to jump back up immediately while also drawing his sword.

Mitch drove the sword’s point into the heaving chest of the Dark One. The Divine Sword flashed brilliantly. The demon squealed and then was silent as it flopped, dead to the ground.

“And stay out of my city!” he spat at the demon corpse at his feet.

Suddenly Mitch felt a blinding pain in the back of his head as the clenched claw of another demon clubbed him. He dropped to his knees and spun around as fast he could, but the demon had the advantage. It was bigger and somehow more menacing than any Mitch had seen yet.

Mitch managed to stand up, but he couldn’t defend his right side in time. He groaned in agony as the demon’s burning claw reached out and clutched his right arm, the one holding the sword. The Divine Sword dropped to the ground with a clatter as the claw began crushing through the battle armor, which was melting under the flames. In disbelief, Mitch looked into the demon’s hellish face, which was framed by huge horns and two smaller heads on either side. The whole thing appeared to be shifting and shimmering, as if its actual skin was on fire. The beast drew its other powerful arm back to grab at Mitch. And rip him apart.

Clatter-crash
. The unmistakable sound of someone smashing a window out, the glass shattering to the ground below. The demon still grasped for Mitch.

Chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk.

The report of a heavy-caliber machine gun rose over Mitch’s scream. The bullets blasted into the demon, knocking it first one way, then the other. A team of citizen soldiers had leveled the machine gun in the second floor of what remained of an exclusive Angel hotel. Floor-to-ceiling windows had been smashed out, and the muzzle fire lit up the night as they continued to shoot at the demon.

Stunned by the burst of machine-gun fire, the demon dropped Mitch to the ground as it swatted at the bullets. Even before he hit the ground, Mitch was rolling to his right, ignoring the excruciating pain in his arm, and he picked up his Divine Sword. He launched himself directly up from the ground, aiming the blade at the belly of the demon. Noxious vapors spewed forth as Mitch pressed the sword in to the hilt, skewering the demon’s gut. The Divine Sword sent a blast of light into the night as the demon quivered to its grisly death on the end of Mitch’s blade.

Mitch turned to the civilians in the bombed-out building across the street and nodded in appreciation. Then he was off, and the ragtag army began reloading for the next Dark Angel who would cross their path.

They would not have to wait long.

• • •

Five of Jacks’s Battle Angels had already fallen to the enemy. They’d been taking demons with them as they went out, sending them back to hell with a final slice of the Divine Sword. But there were just so many of them. They could only hope to hold out a little while longer.

The forces were getting pushed back into Angel City too quickly, and Jacks knew they were going to have to make a full stand before his ranks of Battle Angels got too thin. The demons were ruthless and efficient. Jackson wondered if they’d see the head demon before long, the leader who seemed to be so relentlessly leading the Dark Ones. Jacks grimly imagined the head demon personally making an appearance to gloat over its victory.

“Jacks!” an Angel voice shouted from somewhere behind him.

In desperation Jackson saw that the Angel was looking at a scene worse than anything he could have ever imagined.

Moving rapidly toward them from the heart of Angel City was a thick, dark cloud, teeming with demons. An entire battalion had somehow flanked them and was getting ready to ambush. Jackson cursed bitterly.

The battle was going to be over before it had even truly begun. It was now the end, and they would be torn apart with no mercy. At least they would go out fighting.

“To me! Prepare to close ranks!” Jackson screamed. The patch of destroyed, smoldering asphalt before them seemed as good a place as any to make their last stand. Gritting his teeth, Jacks started drawing his fellow Battle Angels around him, looking to the phalanxes of demons advancing on the ground, and then the numbers forming in the sky behind them. Through some kind of trick the Dark Ones had been able to get around to their other side. How, though?

Then, out of the blackness of the demon battalion, with a wave of rising joy, Jacks saw white glinting on the underside of wings. White glints kept flooding the sky, and suddenly Jackson and the Immortals beside him knew that the cloud formation in the sky was not made up of demons after all.

Miraculously, the rest of the Angels had arrived.

Jacks and his Battle Angels gave loud whoops of joy as they took in the sight of their brothers, sisters, and friends on the wing, Divine Swords in hand.

Jackson strained to see who was heading up the charge. To his great, wonderful disbelief, he saw that Archangel Mark Godspeed was leading the formation.

Confused by this sight of more and more Angels materializing as if from thin air, the demons faltered. They began to pull back slightly from this section of the city and streamed out into the streets.

A few eager Angels began to give chase but were stopped short by furious demons guarding the rear.

The Angels could tell this wasn’t a real retreat, but that the demons were regrouping their forces. Either way, it would still give the Angels a chance to do some gathering of their own.

Mark landed right in front of Jacks. His face was set and determined, and he, like the Immortals behind him, wore the armor of a Battle Angel.

Jackson’s stepfather stepped forward. Dozens upon dozens of Battle Angels landed softly behind him, some of them on buildings—mostly to keep a safe perimeter, but also because there was no longer room for them on the ground. The Angel fleet also stretched out into the streets, parks, and alleyways, and on the rooftops: a full battalion.

No such numbers of Battle Angels had been assembled since the days of old.

“Mark,” Jackson said, still in disbelief.

“We’ve come, Jackson,” his stepfather said with tears in his eyes.

“How?” Jackson was stunned.

“Because of you, Jackson. And your example,” Mark said, motioning to the full battalion. “You are a true Angel. What you did, coming out here against the odds, not for fame, but for the principles behind being an Angel. You were the spark that lit the explosion.”

Jacks looked out at all the faces of the Angels, most of whom he’d known all his life. He was overpowered with gratitude, emotion, and wonder.

“These are your Battle Angels now, Jackson,” Mark said. “Lead them. It is your destiny.”

Jackson silently nodded, his face tense and set, his pale blue eyes as sharp as they’d ever been. He looked at the array of Angels in front of him, above him, everywhere. They were ready to lay down their lives for the city, and they were awaiting his command. He walked a few paces back and forth, then opened his mouth and shouted.

“Angels!”

They raised their swords and called out a response that echoed throughout Angel City. It was the call of hope for those who had been hopeless up until now. Hope shimmered across the rooftops and the city.

Jacks now found himself wondering whether, someday, young Guardians-in-training would be studying these maneuvers, the same way he and his fellow Angels had pored over accounts of ancient attacks and counterattacks between Angels and demons on the storied battlefields of old.

The Angels looked anxiously to where the demons had temporarily retreated to. Now that they had the numbers, the Angels wanted to attack. Jackson stepped away from his spot at the front of the pack and approached his stepfather.

“Where is everyone else?” he asked Mark. “Are they safe?”

“The sanctuary has been abandoned. The nonwarriors have left for the Northeast. Your mother and Chloe included,” Mark Godspeed said. Jackson breathed a sigh of relief. “There are some from the sanctuary who are still loyal to the Council. There were some . . . struggles.”

“Detective Sylvester thinks there is a head demon. That if we find it and kill it, we can stop this madness,” Jackson said. “And I believe him. We’ve been trying to flush it out, but so far—nothing. Sylvester thinks we might be able to tell where the directions are coming from based on the patterns of the attacks. But we haven’t heard anything from the resistance in a long time.”

Mark looked at his stepson. “Then we need to hold them as long as we can. Give them more time.”

Suddenly a demon-bomb soared past overhead and smashed into a building. The Dark Ones had regathered and were on the attack again.

Jackson pulled his sword out and turned to his Battle Angels.

“Angels! We are fighting in full strength!” Jacks shouted. Pride and strength poured into his body as he raised his sword and was met with cheers. “They have taken many of us, but now we are stronger! Let’s give these Dark Ones everything we’ve got!”

It didn’t take any more convincing. As soon as Jacks gave the signal, streams of Battle Angels began pouring toward the Dark Ones, who were now advancing. Battle yells erupted from their demon throats, but the Angels answered with their own cries.

The battle had started anew.

• • •

They were coming, more than ever. The Angels had been reinforced by the entire battalion of Battle Angels, but compared with the demons, which were getting replenished from a seemingly endless supply of evil emerging from the ocean, they were still outnumbered.

“Mark! Take some around to the other side!” Jacks cried out as he saw a line of demons moving along the rooftops and streets to the west. Mark formed a loose group of Battle Angels, and they tore off toward the enemy, swords ready.

Reassured by Mark’s action, Jackson and his warriors turned and faced their foes again. The demons were moving hard, some of them even avoiding the Angel air patrols by breaking into buildings and smashing through room after room only to ambush Angels from a window above.

Jackson was dispatching one of these very demons when he heard a shout. A young Battle Angel fresh from the sanctuary cried out as a demon crushed his shoulder in his claw, holding him firmly. Jacks was too far away to help.

Suddenly a human emerged from a doorway with an AK-47 and sprayed the demon with bullets before running back again for cover. Jackson tried to get there in time to save the wounded Angel, but it was too late. The demon recovered and reached for the Immortal’s legs, then ripped him in two like a rag doll. His Divine Sword clanged to the ground as he took in his last breath. Then, as if it had been nothing, the demon was up and flying away after the brave human. The demon’s blow knocked the human down and did its bloody work before Jackson saw the beast fly off again.

Jackson picked up the Divine Sword from his fallen fellow Angel and looked down at the man with the AK-47. These two brave souls just sacrificed everything in this battle.

He stared forward into the ever-growing mass of demons, his blue eyes sharpening. The Dark Ones looked back at Jackson. If it’s possible for demons to feel fear, then that is what they felt at this moment.

“Jacks!” Mitch called, surely having seen the look in his friend’s eyes. But Jacks paid no attention.

Jackson Godspeed charged into the carnage with a sword in each hand, hewing death and destruction among the demons as he expertly swung the blades back and forth.

The Dark Angels screeched and the Divine Swords pulsed with pure white light with each demon life they took, leaving a trail of severed, smoldering black limbs and the lifeless remains of slaughtered demons.