Apocalypse Soldier (15 page)

Talon took a look around at their isolated surroundings. “Great plan. But where the hell - sorry father- are we going to find seven exorcists out here?”

“We may be in the middle of nowhere, but thanks to the internet we have access to the whole world.”

Talon shook his head. “You’re going to stream an exorcism?”

“Six of the world’s leading exorcists will join me through Skype in the chapel. Their faith and spiritual power will be channeled through me,” Cabrera explained.
 

Talon cocked an eyebrow. “Think it’ll work?”

“We’re about to find out, aren’t we?” the priest said with a touch of bravado that couldn’t quite hide how nervous he was.

“You might be crazy enough for the military,” Talon said.
 

“No thanks, one uniform is enough.”

They traded a short-lived grin. This guy was okay, for a priest. And he clearly cared about Nicole. That was enough to earn Talon’s trust—for now.
 

Talon shifted his focus back to Nicole, who’d been watching the exchange in what seemed like silent indifference. She was looking out at the desert and the approaching cultists, her eyes distant and forlorn.
 

“Are we going to be able win this?” she asked.

“If Father Cabrera and I have anything to say about the matter, yes.”
 

“The woman in the video, you loved her?” Nicole said, her voice a whisper.

She meant everything to me,
Talon thought but merely nodded, his silence saying everything that needed to be said.

“She must’ve been special woman.” She bit her lips. “I’m sorry about your loss. No matter what happens, thank you for trying to save me.”

This said, she turned away and let the monks shepherd her into the monastery.
 

“We will do everything in our power to drive out these demons, soldier,” Cabrera said.

Talon appreciated the noble sentiment but knew the odds were against them. His eyes met the exorcist’s and he said, “My name is Mark.”

Cabrera nodded and smiled. “Good luck, Mark.”
 

“Good luck, Father Cabrera.”

Resolute, Talon turned toward the approaching enemy, a lone soldier against the forces of hell.

***

Talon made his stand in a shimmering field of solar panels. The monastery was located thirteen miles from the nearest power line. Bringing in electricity from the outside would have been cost prohibitive. Instead, the monks used energy from the desert sun to generate their own power on-site. Clever.
 

Talon wondered what motivated men to turn their backs on civilization-not to mention female companionship—and seek out a life in a barren wasteland. On second thought, it actually sounded a lot like military service. Warriors in God’s army. The more he thought about it, the more parallels he saw between soldiers and monks—foremost that they both were forced to give up the amenities of the modern world. For both groups, routine defined their lives. Talon had spent enough years in the desert to know that it took a certain type of individual to put up with hardship like this. Every man wearing a monk’s robe out here had a story.

Live and let live, right?

The sun sizzled down, and Talon wished he was decked out in desert camo instead of his black combat gear. Black worked for nighttime infiltration missions but was ill-suited for desert warfare. The thumb he had dislocated on his left hand was hurting something fierce, too. The damage and strain he’d inflicted to his body were starting to catch up to him at the worst possible time.

Talon pushed aside his discomfort and glassed the scrub-covered hill with a pair of binoculars, tracking the advancing militia. He counted nine men including Amon, who was in the lead. The cultists were closing in from the east, where the mountain would provide plenty of cover. They were using the rocky outcroppings to their best advantage and approached in a V-formation, their specialized military training apparent in their tactics.
 

Good thing Talon had the same training. The array farm, with its large, moving solar panels, would offer added protection once they got closer.

The AK-47 he’d snatched from one of the cultists only had an effective range up until thirteen-hundred feet. An SPR MK12 sniper rifle would have come in handy at this point, but unfortunately the monastery was beyond the reach of Casca’s care packages. He would have to wait for Amon and his cult members to get closer before engaging them. Still, he hoped to be able to pick them off one by one.

The waiting gave him too much time to think. Talon refused to run the odds or give in to fear. There were many examples in military history where determined soldiers successfully held off superior numbers.
 

His thoughts turned to Nicole. How was she faring in the monastery? Would Casca’s plan of using technology to create a digital army of exorcists work? He still didn’t know what Amon’s ultimate objective was, and that troubled him most of all. The demons were already inside of Nicole, so what else did he need from her?

Without warning, the solar panel next to him shattered as a hail of bullets destroyed the array. The shot shouldn’t have been possible. The approaching troopers were still hundreds of feet away and therefore out of range, unless…
 

More lead lashed the air, and Talon flung himself to the ground as bullets whizzed overhead. He peered through the binoculars again and found that Amon’s men were…gone.
 

Adrenaline surged as fear of the unknown gripped him despite his efforts to stay calm. He’d stared down death many times and confronted terrifying enemies, but he had always done so on a battlefield where the goddamn rules of physics applied. These soldiers operated in a different world, one where ritualistic human sacrifice and magic could distort and transform reality. A silhouette appeared reflected in a nearby array, and without thought Talon opened fire. The bullet found the shooter, and the man was flung back into the solar panels, shattering them on impact.

Somehow, the men had covered over thirteen-hundred feet in less than a minute. How was Amon pulling off these feats of black magic? More importantly, if he could teleport his men and cloak himself, why hadn’t he used the same magic when he was chasing after him earlier? Casca would have some sort of theory, no doubt, but the billionaire was a long way off from the battlefield. Lucky bastard.
 

Talon thought back to Zagan and how he’d used the occult algorithm to power his magic. The demon soldier seemed to be doing something similar, given what Talon had seen. Amon was definitely drawing on the power of the seven demons somehow, but there seemed to be limits on what he could do. Problem was, Talon didn’t know what those limits were. Did the cult have to be near Nicole to harness the demonic energy? Or maybe there was only so much power they could tap at any given time. Talon didn’t know—and he didn’t have time to find out. If he survived this fight, he’d have to ask Casca.
 

Another round erupted next to his head, way too close for comfort. Three arrays separated him from the east wall of the monastery. He’d have to make a run for it by leapfrogging from one array to the next. He caught movement seventy yards from his left as a soldier came up to take a shot at him. Talon squeezed the trigger an instant before his opponent. The man’s masked head disappeared in a mist of red.
 

Two down, way too many more to go.

More bullets sizzled the air. Talon laid down some strafing fire as he exploded into motion. He saw two more arrays shatter—hopefully Casca would foot the bill. Snapping off shots, more fighters went down. Then he hurled himself over the wall that ringed the monastery’s brick courtyard. He crouched behind the stone barrier, using it for cover. A renewed barrage chipped the wall, sending up a spray of dust and stone shrapnel. Talon came up, returned fire, and saw two more cultists collapse. Despite Amon’s parlor tricks, he was laying waste to his assault forces.
 

Don’t get cocky now
, he admonished himself.
Cocky will get you killed.
 

As if to confirm his warning, a hail of bullets pockmarked the bulwark, tearing out large chunks of stone. There were thirty rounds in an AK-47’s magazine, but he must be down to half of that. He probably had only ten rounds left in the Glock. He’d just have to make those last bullets count. Maybe if he took out Amon himself, the others might panic or give up the fight entirely.
 

He sensed sudden movement behind him. His rational mind told him it was impossible, as none of the cult members could’ve crept up on his six. But, as he kept having to remind himself, this was an enemy for whom the normal rules of physics didn’t apply.

Too late, he tried to dodge. A bullet grazed his shoulder, flinging him backward. As he sailed through the air, he squeezed off three shots. The rounds found their target and punched into the chest of a massively built shooter who had to be Amon. There was a loud thump as the felled giant hit the dust.
 

Silence reined in the wake of the attack. Talon remained tightly pressed to the ground, eyes ticking back and forth, scoping his surroundings. He didn’t spot any more members of Amon’s cult. Guard up, he crawled toward the downed monster. The masked man splayed before him let out wheezing breaths, desperately struggling to fill his perforated lungs with oxygen.
As he closed in on the prone figure, it suddenly seemed smaller in stature than before, shorter and thinner than Talon expected. Gripped with dread, he pulled off Amon’s ski mask…only to come face to face with Father Cabrera. The exorcist stared up at him with shocked eyes, blood bubbling from his lips. Talon could almost hear the demon soldier laughing in the back of his mind.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

THE MONKS FLANKED Nicole as they led her to the bed in the middle of the chapel. Cabrera urged her to lie down and let them put on the restraints. “It’s for your own protection,” he said. “Just hold still.”

Someone sure likes to order girls around,
a voice hissed inside her. She caught herself agreeing for a moment but then fought back the demon slashing through her consciousness.
 

Cabrera looked relieved that she was playing along. He must’ve expected resistance from the demons, but the amulet was still reigning in their power. Barely. As the stone-faced monks fastened the restraints around her wrists and ankles, Nicole felt the entities stirring within her soul. They sensed the approaching danger. Their fear of the ritual and the holy surroundings made them push back against the magic of the protective pendant.
 

Horrific visions tore at her mind. She saw herself gouging out the monks’ eyes and sinking her teeth into their necks. The images both terrified and tantalized as the war inside her intensified with each passing moment. The darkness would not relinquish their prize without a fight.

One of monks just finished tightening the restraints on her left wrist when her right hand snapped out and closed around the friar’s neck with vice-like strength. Ligaments strained and bone crunched as she lifted the man into the air with one arm. The monk’s eyes bulged and he gasped for precious oxygen. A beat later, the other monks descended and overpowered her by sheer weight and numbers. Through their combined efforts, the remaining restraints were snapped tight. She writhed on the bed, the demons now fully alert of what was happening.
 

“You’re wasting your time,” one of the entities hissed, using her lips like a flesh-and-blood ventriloquist dummy to communicate with Cabrera. “You’re a fool if you think you can defeat us all.”

“I’m getting some help today from a few special friends.”
 

Nicole craned her neck and took note of the circle of votive candles and monks who ringed the bed. Laptops sat propped in the monks’ robed laps. Onscreen, the computers streamed Skype images of priests taken in churches all over the world: Africa, Asia, Europe, South America. Not just priests, Nicole realized; these were all trained exorcists, knowledgeable in the art of driving out demonic entities. Their voices emanated from the laptops’ speakers, coming together in a Gregorian chant. They were beginning the prayer of deliverance.

She’d known Cabrera would find a way to help her. Hope flared but was quickly extinguished by the growls and snarls of the seven beasts now clawing to the surface of her conscious mind, enraged by what these mortals were attempting.
 

The ritualistic chanting rose in volume.

Pain took hold of her. She stared at her stomach and gasped with horror. Claws roamed under her skin, pushing and twisting her flesh as if trying to break through her body from the inside out.
 

…we will not be defeated…

The first bestial howl broke from her lips and reality shrank away. Nicole was being pushed aside, reduced to a spectator in her own body.

She saw the skylights darken. Swarms of black flies crowded the glass, blocking the sunlight. Thousands of them, drawn to the darkness present within the chapel.
 

She thrashed and writhed as an ungodly scream turned into a series of animalistic growls. Her body strained to rise into the air.
 

It was all happening again.

The sensation of helplessness numbed her to the point of catatonia. The beasts were now in control, the possession in full effect. The material of her restraints started to rip and then…

It all stopped.

The flies scattered.
 

The howls died down.
 

The candles flickered and extinguished.
 

The writhing and heaving ceased.
 

The laptops fizzled and grew dark. The images of the saints decorating the ceiling looked down on her, almost as if they were attempting to reassure her.
 

The exorcism was working.