Apocalypse Rising (18 page)

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Authors: Eric Swett

Tags: #death, #Magic, #god, #demons, #Fantasy, #Angels, #urban fantasy

BOOK: Apocalypse Rising
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“The grounds beneath the village,” I say.

“We lost it to the curse decades ago.”

“Why not leave this place; find something safer?” I ask as we step into a large space with a ceiling far overhead.

“There is nowhere else to go, and it is no longer easy for us to travel,” she says. “We have made this our home, our final stand, and it is here that we will end our days.”

“I hope to change that,” I say.

She turns, stares at me, and asks, “Why would you do that?”

“Because your people were forgotten, and it isn’t right,” I say. “There was a time when I had forgotten you as well, but I mean to make amends. I don’t know that I’ll be able to return you to your former glory, but I will find you a place to live in peace.”

Accantha looks at me and nods before she begins climbing the endless series of ladder rungs bolted into the wall of the storm drain we are standing in. I follow her until she steps into a side tunnel near the top. "It will be a tight fit, but you should be able to fit long enough to get where we're going," she says.

I enter the tunnel on my hands and knees since it is too narrow for me to stand. I manage to keep up with her, but I suspect she is slowing her pace so that she does not lose me in the twisting maze of cold, wet pipes.

Eventually we come to a pipe leading upward. Accantha stops, barring my path, and says, "This empties out in an alley up above. Normally I don't go out except at night, and then I travel in disguise." She takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. "Gloriana told me that you and I are supposed to be obvious, once we're on the surface, so that we can draw attention away from the village."

"I don't think that will be a problem," I say. My own height is well above the average and is likely to draw stares, but if I need to gather a little extra attention I can use the Power to draw as much interest as I want. "Shall we?" I ask as I nod my head upward.

Accantha climbs the rungs until she reaches the top. She stops and I see the nimbus of power surround her as she uses the Power to lift the manhole cover and silently move it to the side. The light fades, she climbs out, and disappears from my view. I quickly follow after, and emerge from the depths of the sewers, only to find myself surrounded by the stink of garbage.

"I think I prefer the smell of the pipes," I say. The alley we are in is closed on one end, and bags of rotting garbage line the walls. Even the homeless have shunned this place.

"It is easier to get used to," Accantha says. "Down there the smell is constant, but here you can catch a cool, clean breeze, or the smell of baking bread. The respite lasts for only a moment, but when it goes you would swear it had lasted for hours." She passes her hands over her body and her clothing changes to the more modern fare of jeans and a tee shirt. "When things are always bad, it is easy to forget how good things were, but the slightest reminder of the positive pushes you down even further once it has left."

She turns, and looks to the front of the alley while I replace the manhole cover. Her sorrow makes my heart hurt. For all of the time I spent with mortal man, I had forgotten the elves, and their plight was far worse. Humanity had a chance to save itself, to rise above the tide of darkness that had been growing for so long. They fight with the strength of the dying, aware of their own mortality and the brief time they have to make a difference. The elves have given up. They remember when the Father walked the earth amongst them, and they are sure he has forgotten them. I fear that they are right.

I walk to the front of the alley, and look up and down the road. We are a couple of blocks away from the front of Hitaratsu. I expect to see police cars and ambulance in front of the building, but there is nothing. "Come on, Accantha, let's go grab some attention," I say before stepping out of the alley.

Accantha keeps pace with me as we walk toward the building. She half jogs to do so, and we eat up the distance. I notice people staring at me as I walk by, and I hear the whispers. Most of them wonder if I am a basketball player, but I ignore them. I want to be noticed, and my march toward Hitaratsu is doing a fine job of it.

We stop once we are across the street from the building. I can see the front entrance clearly, and it is perfect. There are no cracks in the glass, no blood on the sidewalk, and no police standing around the entrance protecting long streams of crime scene tape. It is as if no one shot at me or attacked the building. I want to walk through the revolving door, grab a couple of security guards and demand answers.

I step into the street, but Accantha grabs my wrist and pulls me back. It amazes me how strong she is despite her diminutive frame. "If you were hoping to gain attention by coming here, I would say you have achieved your goal." She points at a couple of men near the building's entrance. They are staring at us and one of them is talking on the phone.

"You're sure?" I ask. They are average looking, well dressed, professionals; the sort of men that did not draw attention, but they were the only people on the sidewalk not moving.

"Absolutely," she says. "The short one spit out his coffee when he saw you. What next, oh mighty general?" Accantha asks.

"We run," I say. I smile at her, do an about face and run away from Hitaratsu as fast as I can.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“We have him, sir,” said the operative on the other end of the phone. “He appears to have awoken.”

Neville was tempted to throw the phone across the room and shatter it into a million pieces, but it would not fix his problems and he would have to get another phone. “Is he alone?” Neville asked. All prophecies were vague, and the one he worried about was no exception, but there were lines that were clear, and a critical piece spoke of allies fighting at his side. Neville knew that you could not defeat divine prophecy, but they might be able to shape it to their purposes.

“I think so,” the operative said. “I thought there was someone else, but he is alone now.”

“What is he doing?” Neville asked. Why would he resurface, so near where he had been attacked?

“He is running away from the building, and there are two men chasing after him, but I don’t think they are working together.” The line went quiet before a burst of static blasted through the line. “I’m sorry, sir, but I wanted a better view. I am further down the road. He is running toward me now, and he is definitely alone.”

“Good. Keep an eye on him, but stay out of sight,” Neville ordered. “Do not underestimate him. He is not known for being clever, but his instincts are well honed by eons of service to the Throne.” It would not do to assume his wits had been dulled by his time amongst mortal man. If he had truly awakened, then he had probably regained his memories as well.

“Yes, sir,” the operative said. He was a dedicated Angel of the lower choirs, ambitious and eager to climb above his station. He would serve Neville well, in hopes of promotion once the gates of Heaven were re-opened.

“Contact me immediately if he leaves the city,” Neville said, “and try to discern who the other people following him are.” Neville hung up the phone, turned to the windows, and looked in the direction of the Hitaratsu building. He reached out with his mind, using the Power to find the Angel he had been seeking for so long, but his target remained hidden to his simple sendings.

Somewhere near the center of the city, not far from his own office, his old master was running away from someone. Neville sat in his tower, waiting, manipulating, and planning the death of the one Angel he placed above himself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“He’s a quick one,” said Randal. He was short and thin, but fleet of foot. He had always been quick, but the demon seed he had received days earlier made him even faster. Despite all of that, he struggled to keep pace with the giant of a man he was following. Not for the first time, Randal wished that Haden had not made him wear a suit.

“Are you sure he is the one?” asked Peter. He was the taller of the two thralls, and every bit as fast on the run, but his broader frame made him bump into people and slowed his pace.

Randal laughed. “Of course I’m not sure, but we were told to keep an eye out for anything unusual and I would say an eight-foot tall man is pretty damn unusual. Wouldn’t you?” Peter's junior partner wove through the crowd with consummate precision. "Hurry up," Randal said over his shoulder. "We're going to lose him."

"No we won't," Peter shouted. "The guy's as big as a bus. There's no way we can lose him."

"I heard you and Haden talking about the guy I replaced, and if it is all the same to you I would rather not end up with my head splattered across an alley wall." Randal's voice grew distant as Peter fell further behind.

"Damn it," Peter cursed as he forced his way through the crowd, ignoring the shouts and insults hurled his way. Randal was faster on his feet than Peter, but the elder thrall was experienced and a quick thinker. He knew that he could not keep up the chase, and that Randal would lose the giant as well unless he did something different.

Peter dodged sideways and ran across the street. A taxi stopped when he raised his arm and flagged it down. "Drive straight and do what I say," he said. The cabbie shrugged, and pulled away from the curb. Peter waited until they had caught up with Randal. He rolled down the driver side window and yelled, "get in and we'll catch him."

Randal dodged across the street and hopped into the cab. "Good thinking," he said. Randal pulled a couple of twenties from his pocket and handed them to the cabbie. "What's your name?" he asked the cabbie.

"Carl."

"Okay, Carl, drive faster and catch up to that guy." Randal said as he pointed ahead and to the left, but all Carl saw was a sidewalk full of pedestrians.

"You're the boss," he said as he grabbed the money and stomped on the gas.

The taxi weaved in and out of traffic as they slowly gained on the tall man running down the sidewalk. His height made him easy to spot, and Peter was amazed at how the crowd parted before their target. When he turned a corner the cabbie followed. The number of people on the road lessened and somehow the man ran faster still.

"Jesus, will you take a look at this guy, Peter?" Randal's mouth hung open in shock. The big man was setting a pace that would have left Olympic runners drooling.

Peter pulled a gun from his pocket, and pressed it against the cabbie's head. "Run him down, or I'll kill you now."

"Please, no. I've got kids--"

"And if you want to see them again you'll run that big bastard down." Peter emphasized the point by shoving the man's head with the barrel. Carl gunned the engine, crossed lanes and aimed right for the brothers' target. "Oh, God, he's got a kid with him."

For the first time, all three of the men noticed a child running alongside the giant. "Make sure you hit her too," Randal said as he snapped his seatbelt into place. Peter did the same, and sat back in his seat.

Tears streamed down the cab driver's face, as he got closer to the man and child. "God help me," he whispered.

The giant looked back at the cab, grabbed the child and winked, before he jumped into the air. The man's shirt ripped from his body as two large wings of shimmering light erupted from his back and spread out behind him. With powerful strokes, the wings flapped and the man flew twenty feet above the street. If the men in the cab had been able to look away, they would have noticed that everyone on the street had stopped to stare at the Angel as he took wing, but they did not, and they did not notice the building before them.

The cab smashed into the building at more than fifty miles per hour. The men in back died instantly as the cab crumpled with the impact, but the cab driver survived without a scratch. The media called it a miracle. Carl could not help but agree.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The wind rushes over me as I fly above the street. The people below stare, but I do not care. Angels may not reveal themselves to the mortal races, without permission from the Father, but He is missing and I have learned that sometimes I must make decisions on my own. The people who see me will never forget it and their faith will be reborn. It is part of why we stay hidden, but a little boost to the faithful might be just what He needs right now. I know that the Father is above human emotion, but I suspect that it pleases him to feel the faithfull's presence.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," Accantha shouts at me as we fly past a fully loaded city bus.

"I forgot how much I missed this," I say as I fly higher, bank around a building and surprise a woman in a business suite, standing in an office looking out at the city. I am flying fast enough that I am out of sight almost before she realizes I am there. "The last time I unfurled my wings, Julius Caesar was still in Gaul."

Accantha squirms in my grasp. "Not all of us are as interested in leaving the earth, so if you don't mind, can we go back to walking?"

"No," I say, "not yet. I know where we're going now, and this will give us a lead over the people following us." When I took flight I remembered the church where I left Lilly. I do not know if she is there or not, but it is a good place to start our search.

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