Behold ! Page 12

  As Frank listened, a middle-aged man with long, stringy red hair and horrible acne scars on his face and neck spoke. “He said to bring him the kid in the wheelchair, and the hospital says he’s been discharged.”

  “I know that, numb-nuts, but you also said he’d be here or at his dad’s place. He wasn’t there, and he’s not here. So what next, genius?” said a large man with a gravel voice.

  “If we go back without him, he’s not going to be happy,” observed a slightly overweight but otherwise pretty young girl who looked like she might be a teenager.

  All four individuals were carrying long guns. Scarface had an AR platform and the pretty girl had a lever-action western rifle. But what brought Frank up short was the weapon Gravel Voice carried. Hanging from his relaxed one-hand grip was a Sentinel Arms Striker 12, otherwise known as a Street Sweeper. This particular shotgun had a 12 round drum magazine and 18 inch barrel; it was strictly an anti-personnel device.

  “Why don’t you imbeciles all shut up and let me think?” barked the fourth man.

  Obviously in charge, this man radiated menace. When he spoke, the other three all averted their gaze to the floor, and they took on a beaten posture. This man held a riot gun loosely in his left hand.

  The sound of Ham’s chair became audible to all four intruders simultaneously, and Frank had just decided he needed to take out the big man first, even if he wasn’t the leader, but only if they refused to surrender. With four of them against him and a five-shot revolver, he felt doubtful about that scenario.

  “The kid must be here,” said Scarface.

  “Idiot, the wife is in a chair as well,” replied the big man.

  As all four had begun to raise their weapon to a ready position as they turned toward the rear of the house; Frank knew his time was up. Stepping partially behind the cover of the alcove wall, he raised his pistol to point directly at the big man.

  “Police, weapons on the floor, now,” he commanded.

  Big man grabbed the fore grip of the shotgun and raised the business end toward Frank. A single round from Frank’s 357 Magnum penetrated the man’s shirtfront and snapped away the second button on his polo shirt. The big man took one stumbling step backward, still trying to raise his weapon.

  Frank’s attention had already turned to the leader, but Scarface was frighteningly fast. He triggered the AR weapon even as it was still rising, and it barked a staccato line of bullet gouges across the wood floor in Frank’s direction. Frank had time to throw one diving shot at the man as he fell behind the wall.

  He knew the sheetrock wouldn’t even slow down a rifle bullet at this distance, especially from a weapon capable of fully-automatic fire. Out of the periphery of his vision as he fell, he saw Scarface twist to his right and heard him cry out. Tagged you, bastard, Frank thought as he considered his next move.

  Beginning at head height, a line of explosion erupted above Frank and began to descend in foot-long gaps. Each was accompanied by the explosion of a shotgun blast from the riot gun. Frank duck-walked around the alcove wall into the kitchen, intent on flanking the remaining two or three.

  As he neared the edge of the wall from the kitchen into the living room, the bark of a large-caliber rifle added to the cacophony in the house and one of the cabinet doors in the kitchen exploded into fragments. The impact point was directly in line with where Frank’s head would have been had he peeked around the corner.

  Someone knew what they were doing. They were trying to box him in, knowing they could continue to blast holes through the short wall until they eventually got lucky and hit him. Even a grazing hit from the high-powered rifle round or the obvious slugs coming out of the riot gun would take him out long enough for them to finish him off.

  Ham had arrived at the hallway entrance to the living room, and before Frank could react, he turned into the room.

  “No,” was all Frank could shout, as he dove into the living room from his side of the wall. He was desperate to draw their attention from the unarmed youth in the wheelchair. Frank had simply forgotten Ham’s abilities, and as he brought his revolver in line with the leader’s torso, Ham flicked his hand at the girl with the rifle and she vanished.

  The leader had brought his shotgun to bear on Ham just as Frank fired. The heavy pistol bullet struck the leader just behind his right ear, exploding a fist-sized chunk of his skull against the living room wall. The leader collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

  Scarface was struggling to bring himself into a sitting position against the wall next to the front door. He had no thought for his weapon; he was too busy trying to breathe. Frank’s bullet had torn through his right upper torso, nicking the Subclavian artery as it passed through the top of his lung, which was now filling up with his own blood.

  “Help me,” Scarface whispered through bubbling, bloody froth.

  “Who is he that sent you here, and why does he want Ham?” Frank asked dispassionately. A little voice in his head was saying you need to call for a bus, but he was ignoring it.

  “I’m dying,” said the red-haired man, sweat pouring from his face as his body went into shock.

  “Tell me who sent you and I’ll call an ambulance,” Frank repeated calmly.

  Ham rolled up next to the drowning man, and as Scarface’s eyes rolled back in his head, he placed his good hand on the man’s uninjured shoulder.

  “Begone,” he spoke softly, and Frank thought he was sending him away.

  As Frank began to object, the man convulsed and a dark flash of power emanated from him. The man’s composure changed, and he sighed gently, as if pleased. Then his head rolled to the side, and his body convulsed once more as his death rattle escaped his bloody lips.

  Removing his hand, Ham said, “I forced the demon out of his body and back into the Pit before he died, so his soul might have a chance at redemption,” Ham said reverently. “God showed me how, after I promised to save as many human souls as I could in the coming apocalypse.”

  Tears were coursing down his cheeks, and he looked at Frank with wonder. “God loves us, and He wants us to succeed. But He says if we fail, it’s the end of the world as we know it. He says His prophet John was very accurate in his description.”

  Clara rolled into the room, looking at Frank, Ham, and the carnage of her home. “We’ll need to find another home when this is all over,” she said sadly. “I’ll never be able to sleep in this house again.” Turning to her husband, she smiled, and her eyes flashed brilliant white.

  “You’re such a good and faithful man, Frank Kratos, and my Father is very pleased with you,” Raquel praised.

  “How can that be, when I’ve just killed three men?” Frank asked in awe. “Doesn’t that violate one of his commandments?”

  “Those men had given their souls to Lucifer, and are lost by their own hands. And my Father said thou shalt not murder. Mankind has twisted that, along with much of his guidance, to suit their own peculiar needs.” Raquel answered. “But my Father has instructed this new young prophet on the manner by which he might turn the tide of the battle. We must hasten to Hell’s Gate without delay.”

  “I’ll have to get Clara settled somewhere, so there’s no way you can go with us,” Frank rejoined. “Because there’s absolutely no way I can or will allow her in the path of danger.”

  Light flared in Clara’s eyes, and Raquel smiled. “Even with an Archangel in residence?”

  Frank looked dubiously at Raquel, and then acquiesced.

  “Let me talk to Clara, please,” he replied. The light faded from her eyes, and Clara looked lovingly into her husband’s.

  “My darling, I have seen a glimpse of what news Raquel brings back from her visits to her world, and the images God is sending with her are horrific. It is unbearable for me to consider not helping if anything I can do will change that outcome.”

  Turning at Ham, she continued. “In this current future, the entire world is enslaved by demons riding human forms, and they treat mankind with c
ontempt and utter cruelty. They murder and rape in wanton fashion and much of their progeny are demon-spawned. Within a generation, the planet becomes a dark pit of despair similar to where they have been for eons, which seems so wrong. If they wanted out of their despair, why bring it here with them?”

  Tears welled on the cusp of her trembling lids, and Clara returned her gaze to Frank. “We must do anything, everything, to prevent this. No sacrifice is too great to save mankind.” The tears escaped her eyes and coursed unchecked down her pale cheeks.

  “What are you doing now?” she asked.

  Frank was searching through the pockets of the four dead assailants scattered around his living room. As he took various types of ammunition off their still forms, he said, “I’m gathering their weapons. I have a feeling we’re going to need all the firepower we can muster.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  CLARA, HAM, AND FRANK arrived in Lubbock just after 4:30 am. As in Marrisa’s van, Ham had found sufficient tie-down points to secure his chair in the back. Frank was using his hand-held radio, now that they were in range of Sariel/Jason and the police walkie-talkie he still carried.

  “Jason, we’re on highway 62 about to cross highway 289, how far out are we?” he asked.

  “You’re about 20 minutes, Lieutenant, and you’re cutting it close. There’s been a lot of activity at the trestle,” Jason replied with a touch of panic in his voice. “Take 62 to MLK, it’s about two miles. Go south a quarter mile to Canyon Lake Drive after the bridge. It’s a loop, so there are two turn-offs, take the second one. We have people set up halfway down the first one. Follow it about a mile and a half to the dam. It’s the best place for Ham and Clara to be over watch.”

  “That adds up to four miles, how is that twenty minutes?” Frank grilled.

  “Canyon Lake Drive is a winding two-lane, and it’s residential. There’s not much traffic at 4:30, but you wouldn’t want to try straightening the curves in your van, I don’t think,” Jason replied. The panic in his voice was nearing hysteria, and Frank was concerned for his reliability.

  “I’ll be careful,” Frank assured him. “You might want to take a few deep breaths, Jason. You’re sounding a little frazzled.”

  When there was no reply, Frank raised the radio to his mouth to speak again, but Jason’s voice came out of the walkie. Only this time, it was calm and sounded different; angel different. “Jason has agreed I should take over for now,” Camael said. “The things he’s seeing are difficult for him to comprehend.”

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Frank assured him. “What should we expect, and what do you need us to do?”

  “Demons have been streaming through the gate since moments after we arrived at the old railroad bridge,” Camael said. “We have been able to hold them back for the most part, and those who have slipped past must contend with Hemah and Arariel on the road. We have a moment’s respite, as they gather on the other side for another assault. I have yet to determine how they managed to breach the gate initially, but that consideration is now mute.”

  “Moot,” Frank heard Marrisa say in the background. “The issue is moot. Mute means you can’t speak.”

  “The first we encountered were humans with demon riders, and we dispatched them easily enough,” Camael continued. “Azrael and I are considering those humans might have performed a ritual which weakened the portal sufficiently for the others to come through. Once that happened, their combined powers were sufficient to open it completely.”

  “Have they heard from Cassiel and Ariel on how many they’ve stopped?” Raquel asked.

  When Frank relayed the question, Marrisa answered. “Camael is busy with some new arrivals, so asked me to continue the conversation. Cassiel told Azrael, so of course I overheard, that they’ve stopped a dozen or more pure demons searching for hosts, but Ariel and Camael think more than that have gotten past us.”

  “Between them and Adriel, they’ve stopped at least fifty demons right here at the gate. Adriel is really scary, you know. She just touches a demon and they burst into flames,” she finished. “She’s the angel of Death, but what a way to go, even for a demon.”

  “So, is she saying there may be some demons coming around our side of the loop?” Ham asked, quickly analyzing the scenario.

  Frank nodded, raising the radio to relay their thoughts as two nightmare figures leaped out into the road in front of the van. Frank instinctively jammed on the brakes and cut the wheel, and the ABS caused the front tires to skitter on the asphalt as the vehicle slewed clockwise. One of the creatures resembled a man’s torso, with the head of a bull and the legs of a lion. Its arms were heavily hairy but human until the end, where they terminated in three razor-sharp claws.

  The second creature wasn’t remotely humanoid; it had eight tentacles writhing from the foremost end of a quadruped body which might have been a bull, or maybe a horse. But the legs were thick and powerful, like those on an elephant.

  Frank was frozen in abject terror. Raquel spoke words of power and thrust her hands in front of her face at the charging juggernaut. The creature faltered in mid-stride before regaining its footing and continuing its charge.

  Raquel screamed a similar phrase, and the thump felt inside the van must have been nothing compared to the detonation outside. The body exploded in front of the windshield, showering the glass with thick, viscous orange goo and gobs of blackened flesh. Overpowering odors of sulphur and rotting meat permeated the air, and Ham struggled to check his rising gorge.

  Ham had watched over Frank’s shoulder as the man-thing had charged the driver’s window, and now thrust his hand out in a clenching motion, twisting his hand as if trying to open a doorknob. The man-thing reached for Frank’s window and froze, arms extended out in front of the torso. It vibrated and bounced as if a volcano were preparing to go off inside it, blurring the image of the creature as if seen through a wad of cellophane. Then it vanished with an audible pop.

  “Yes!” Ham exclaimed. “God told me to lay waste to the demons of the Pit, and I am,” he shouted.

  Raquel turned in Clara’s wheelchair and gazed at Ham. “My Father has given you immense power for a mortal, Ham. Use it wisely.”

  Frank shook himself before restarting the van and putting it in gear. “I seriously need a drink,” he muttered under his breath. “There’s a housing subdivision to our right, and the lake to our left, so I’m assuming they’re trying to get to people in hopes of finding a host?”

  Raquel nodded. “We must get closer to the gate to best stop them before they can reach humans.”

  As they approached the curve leading to the dam crossroad, three more unusual apparitions appeared in the roadway; two straight out of Dante’s inferno. They looked a lot like goblins created by Hollywood, while the third was a beautiful woman dressed in a diaphanous gown. This time Frank didn’t hesitate, flooring the van and aiming it at all three.

  The woman seemed to become transparent, while the two goblins impacted the front of the van at 30 miles per hour and began scrambling up the grill toward the windshield. As they grabbed the wipers for a handhold, Frank switched the wiper motor on and flung both creatures off into the night. Jamming the brakes, he spun the van 180 degrees and pointed the headlights at the three figures.

  One of the goblins had struck a tree and was scrabbling about as if its back was broken. The other was regaining its feet and looked ready to charge the van again. Frank rolled his window down and thrust his revolver out, firing twice at the goblin on the ground. It jerked once and stilled, so Frank changed his aim and fired twice more at the other.

  It leapt aside impossibly quickly and all three occupants of the van saw the bullets spark orange trails across the asphalt. As the goblin leapt for the van, Ham repeated his clenching and twisting motion. The goblin vibrated in mid-air and vanished.

  Raquel had been moving her hands and arms in a complicated pattern in front of her face as all this was happening, and now thrust both hands away from her as if thro
wing something. The apparition wavered, becoming transparent again, before beginning to change shape and color.

  It transitioned from stark white to yellow and then orange. The image became even more tenuous as it changed to bright red, and a piercing wail cut the night air like some mournful locomotive whistle heard across the silence of the vast southwestern plains. Then the spirit, ghost, or whatever it was shrank down to a finite point and popped out of existence.

  “That was a wraith, and I had no idea they had joined forces with the demons,” Raquel explained. “Although they exist in a plain separate from the Pit, they can move between dimensions much more readily than my Brothers and Sisters. They are generally harmless, more inquisitive than anything else, but I sensed a malevolent cause in this one.”

  I was confirmed when it attempted to drag me back across the curtain to its side.” Raquel paused, shaking her head in a very real display of human confusion. “This is indeed a new condition all the protectors must be made aware of immediately. If they are caught unprepared, a wraith can strip them from their vessel, leaving it unprotected.”

  Frank keyed the radio and passed Raquel’s observation on to the others. “How do we inform the pair on the other side of the lake road?” Frank asked.

  “I’ll be right back,” Raquel said, and the brilliance in Clara’s eyes vanished.

  “Well, that was certainly interesting,” Clara said with a notable quiver in her voice. “Raquel barely got ahead of the wraith’s power. It had already connected with her energy, and was sucking her out of me. Raquel says I helped her remain by flowing positive thoughts to her. At least I know I can help in some small way.”

  Then her eyes flared white, and Raquel was back. “We must advance onto the dam so Ham has a clear view of the Gate where it opens at the end of the old train bridge,” she directed.

  Frank put the van in gear once more and rolled slowly along the dam road until Raquel spoke. “Stop here, and turn the headlights to the south.” The headlights exposed nothing but treetops and open ground.