Authors: Philip W Simpson
Tags: #teen, #religion, #rapture, #samael, #samurai, #tribulation, #adventure, #action, #hell, #angels
“You’ve got
yourself a deal,” said Sam, meaning every word. What did he have to
lose? He came here to confront his brother again in any case.
Joshua was just adding some icing onto the cake. “Now where’s my
mother?”
Joshua wore an
expression that Sam struggled to interpret. He clicked his fingers
and a woman materialized next to him - a woman that Sam couldn’t
help but recognize.
He’d never
known her himself, of course, but he’d seen her in his dreams. He’d
also seen pictures of her, pictures from her time in Japan with
Hikari. Hikari had told him she had been killed by demon
worshippers. Perhaps she had or perhaps Hikari had been
misinformed. It didn’t matter – he knew that Hikari would never
have lied to him. Other scenarios had occurred to him over the
years. If she had been killed and gone to Hell, she could never
return. If, however, she had been taken to Hell alive, there was
still a chance. The fact that she was standing in front of him
swept away all other considerations. She must be still alive. Her
presence belied all other explanations. That was all that
mattered.
He drank in the
sight of her, no longer the terrible emaciated creature he’d seen
in his dreams. She didn’t appear to have changed since those photos
he’d seen. Long dark hair, achingly similar to Aimi’s, skin the
color of marble, matching his own complexion. Her face was unlined
but her eyes were sad. She smiled at him and he thought his heart
would explode with happiness.
“My son,” she
said, holding out her arms to him.
Sam was about
to leap the desk in front of him, gather his mother to him and
crush her in an embrace so tight that she’d never be able to leave
him again. Joshua forestalled him, blocking his mother with one arm
across her chest whilst simultaneously holding up one warning
finger to Sam.
“Not yet,” he
said. “Not until you’ve completed your side of the bargain.”
“At least let
me talk to her,” pleaded Sam.
Joshua
shrugged. “So talk.”
Taking her cue,
his mother spoke first. “I’ve missed you so much, Sam,” she said.
“There isn’t a day that I don’t think about you.”
“Are you okay …
Mom?” he asked. It sounded stupid in his own ears, but what were
you meant to say to a mother you’d never seen before? He’d played
this reunion over and over in his head but it wasn’t actually going
to plan. Somehow the words he really wanted to say just wouldn’t
emerge from his lips. Words like ‘I love you’.
His mother
smiled again but this time Sam could see that it was forced for his
benefit. How could she possibly be okay in Hell? “As well as can be
expected. I can’t lie to you, my son – it’s been difficult.”
Sam nodded. Of
course it had been. “I’m sorry, Mom. Sorry that you were taken
there. Sorry for everything that happened to you. You don’t deserve
this.”
“I know,” his
mother agreed. “But that doesn’t matter now. You have to focus. You
need to kill your brother, son. Kill him and then I will be freed
and we can be together once again.”
“Right, enough
of that,” said Joshua. He snapped his fingers again and Sam’s
mother disappeared. Her absence immediately left a void in Sam’s
heart.
“No!” he cried.
To have his mother back for a moment only to have her snatched away
just as quickly. It was unbearable. He was sorely tempted to leap
the desk and put his naked blade to Joshua’s neck, making him bring
her back.
Clearly, Joshua
saw Sam’s intent and forestalled an attack. “Don’t look so sad,
Sam. You’ll have her back soon enough. Get the job done and you and
your mom will have the rest of your lives to exchange
pleasantries.”
Sam seethed
with repressed anger and frustration but as Joshua talked,
something his mother had said was starting to percolate through his
conscious mind. Something that didn’t ring true. Words that had
sounded off. His mother had encouraged him to kill his brother. But
that was her other son she was talking about. What mother would
possibly encourage that sort of thing? In a strange coincidence, it
also echoed what Joshua wanted. His thoughts started to go down a
path he really didn’t want to take …Also, the words of Samyaza came
back to him. ‘Save the one who will save you.’ Doubts filled him.
Had Samyaza even been talking about his mother? How could he save
his mother when he wasn’t even sure that it had been her in the
first place?
Before he could
come to a decision, an alarm started braying loudly, demanding
instant attention.
Joshua looked
startled. Before he could react, the Captain and his soldiers burst
back into the room without knocking. “What is it?” demanded
Joshua.
“We’re under
attack, Prophet,” declared the Captain. As he said this, Sam heard
the unmistakable sound of gunfire from outside.
“From
whom?”
“I don’t know,
Prophet,” the Captain conceded. “We’ve been boarded by an armed
force. In addition, an unknown ship is proceeding along the Hudson
on an intercept course with the ships docked here.”
Joshua looked
somewhat surprised by this news. By the looks of things, he’d
certainly not been expecting an attack. If Sam hoped that Joshua
would crumble under the pressure though, he was mistaken. His once
friend was firmly in command. “Tell the Commander to start the
engines and get us out of here. Alert the rest of the fleet.”
The Captain
saluted smartly. “Yes, Prophet.”
He and his men
turned to leave. At that exact instance, the ship rocked under a
massive impact. It must have been a substantial strike to shake a
ship of this size. Sam didn’t want to wait around to find out what
was attacking them. That was Joshua’s problem. If he went down, Sam
didn’t want to be around to suffer the same fate. And as for his
mother – Sam wasn’t hopeful. Joshua had all but said that his
powers were all about appearances. He strongly suspected that the
image was just that – an image of his mother and not the real
thing. He doubted whether Joshua would have the power to get his
mother out of Hell. Besides, he didn’t trust Joshua for a second.
He’d betrayed him before. Sam knew exactly what would happen to him
if he got rid of his brother. Or refused or otherwise failed to do
so. Joshua would contrive for Sam to have an ‘accident’, from which
there would be return – from Hell or otherwise.
This ship was
no longer a safe place to be. He needed to become the master of his
own destiny again. To confront his brother on his terms. He needed
to get out of here. Right now.
The ship
shuddered again under another hammer blow. The Captain staggered.
Two of his three men fell to the ground. Sam saw an opportunity. He
darted towards the entrance. The last remaining soldier tried to
stop him, bringing an arm up to block him. Sam may not have had his
swords, but he certainly wasn’t defenseless. Hikari had ensured
that Sam was well versed in both armed and unarmed combat – not
that he’d had to resort to unarmed combat much these days. His
martial skills were easily equivalent to a black belt in both
Karate and Aikido with some Judo mixed in for good measure.
He blocked the
soldier’s arm with the outside of his own, bringing them shoulder
to shoulder. Using his own momentum, his arm simply came down
around the neck of the other man. He swung his other arm around,
pivoting as easily as a dancer, forcing the soldier’s head down and
placing his hand around his opponent’s throat. Predictably, the man
tried to rise. Sam let him, allowing his own over-compensation to
force him backwards. Sam tripped him, ensuring that one of his legs
were right behind him as he toppled. As he fell to the ground, Sam
struck him a blow with the knife edge of his hand, straight in the
throat. The man hit the ground and didn’t move again.
The whole
combat had lasted approximately two seconds.
Sam darted a
glance around the room as he made for the door. The other soldiers
were still getting to their feet, pulling handguns from their
holsters. Joshua had disappeared.
Sam paid them
no heed, reaching the door and darting out into the corridor just
as shots starting ringing out from behind him. He raced along the
corridor, retracing the path the soldiers had used bringing him
here. Other soldiers tried to stop him. He disarmed and disabled
them as easily as the first, hardly slowing.
He sensed the
group of humans before he saw them, not bothering to examine them
too closely. They were just obstacles to overcome, seemingly lying
in wait for him at the exit leading to the deck and the helicopter
platform. It was the only exit that he knew of. He certainly wasn’t
prepared to try and find another one when the ship was under
attack. Just then, the ship rocked under another impact. This time,
Sam thought he heard what appeared to be engine noises. What was
that? Fighter jets?
He steeled
himself as he rounded the corner, catching sight of the squad of
soldiers blocking his way for the first time. Two were crouching in
the corridor, their automatics leveled at him. Three others stood
behind, also armed. Something seemed different about their uniforms
but he didn’t give it a second thought. He had to get off this ship
and they were in his way. He prepared himself to slow time just as
the soldiers began shooting in his direction, already knowing that
he was too late. The corridor was narrow and his only recourse was
to get as low as possible, expecting to be hit by bullets at any
time. This could be bad, he thought, sensing that these soldiers
were also armed with iron.
He heard a cry
from behind and turned. Some other soldiers were lying in pools of
spreading blood. It was only then that he realized that the
soldiers in front of him were wearing different outfits. That they
hadn’t been shooting at him. Only then did he finally recognize one
of the minds amongst them.
As he closed
the gap between himself and this new group of soldiers, the
smallest one amongst them threw a long cloth-wrapped package at
him. He caught it smoothly and unwrapped it. His swords. Finally,
he was reunited with his beloved swords. Suddenly, he felt whole
again.
He nodded at
the figure. “Thanks, Grace.”
“Figured I owed
you after what went down with the Resistance.” She indicated the
exit. “Let’s get out of here before it really hits the fan.”
She led the way
out onto the platform. The helicopter was now just burning
wreckage. There was a deafening roar above them and Sam glanced
upwards. A jet tore past, just over the conning tower of the ship.
The ship shuddered again.
“Whose is
that?” he shouted.
“Ours, I
think,” Grace responded, jogging beside him. “Not entirely sure but
I’m taking it as a good sign that it’s attacking this ship.”
The ship jolted
again repeatedly. In the sky above, the jet suddenly spewed smoke
and swerved out of sight, hit by return fire from the
Battlecruiser.
The action
brought the ship to life. Suddenly, enemy soldiers started to swarm
onto the deck. Grace and the rest of her squad mowed them down with
machine-gun fire. Any who got too close, Sam chopped down with his
blades.
Dodging fire,
Sam and the other U.S soldiers followed Grace as she led them to
the rear of the heli-pad. There was a ladder leading down to the
stern of the huge ship. Sam could just see the wake starting to
boil as the ship’s engines came to life. Crewmen were casting off.
They had only moments to get off the ship.
The squad slid
down the ladder just as the ship started to pull away from the
dock, forcing them to jump. The two soldiers at the rear never made
it, caught by enemy fire as they leapt. They plunged into the
swirling water and disappeared. Grace, already crouching on the
dock, returned fire, giving Sam and the remaining two members of
her squad breathing room.
The dock was a
whirl of activity with trucks, loaders and scores of soldiers going
about their tasks. Lights illuminated some areas but many,
including the part of the dock where they had landed, were
thankfully in darkness. Most of the enemy troops appeared to be
busy scanning the skies or watching the river and the departing
fleet to notice the arrival of Sam and his group of relatively
insignificant figures. Their presence was, however, noted. An
Astaroth streaked down from the night sky, claws and swords
extended.
Grace and the
other soldiers, suddenly aware they were in danger, began firing on
the massive demon as it descended, thus drawing the attention of
every enemy soldier on the dock. In the uncertain light, few
bullets found their mark on the Astaroth. Sam readied his swords,
knowing he would need them in a few moments.
The roar of
heavy machine gun fire rang out. The Astaroth, about to flatten the
four of them, was suddenly hit by multiple shots. It disappeared,
raining ash down on Sam and the others. Unnoticed earlier, a black
helicopter swung into view. A spotlight first played upon Sam and
his small group, suddenly switching towards the enemy soldiers on
the dock, responding to small arms fire. The door mounted M134
mini-gun opened up again, mowing down any soldiers who didn’t take
cover.
The helicopter
came into land. As it did, Sam saw it more clearly, recognizing it
for what it was: a Blackhawk - one of several that Sam had seen at
the Beightler Armory. It looked like the cavalry had arrived.
The rotor
continued to spin rapidly, not slowing even as the Blackhawk
touched down. Grace, Sam and the two remaining members of her squad
crouched uncertainly in the shadows, unsure what their course of
action should be. The Blackhawk looked to be on their side, but
first impressions could be deceptive. Suddenly, next to a soldier
manning the mini-gun in the door of the chopper, another figure
appeared. Sam breathed a silent prayer. It was Adam. He gestured
towards them – unmistakably signaling to them to hurry up and get
in the chopper.