Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) (22 page)

Read Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) Online

Authors: Jonathan Yanez

With the smell of sulfuric acid in the air and a
faint hue of smoke, both demons were gone. Michael released one last quivering
breath before his mind turned back to the battle that would soon begin. Joining
Ardat was never an option and he would die before be taken a prisoner.

 

Chapter 60

 

“Where were you, my mistress?” Dominic asked in a
sly tone.

Ardat fixed him with a hard stare
as she secured her breastplate. “That is none of your concern. Are the men
ready?”

The dark Nephilim nodded in a series of quick
successions. Ardat looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She was
ready. Dark steel armor adorned her from toe to neck. In place of a helmet, she
wore a crown. Her black robe draped over her armor and across her shoulders,
enveloping her in yards of thick material. “Yes, my mistress,” Dominic said.
“They are ready and in place, awaiting your command.”

“And the giants? How many were able
to make the transition?”

“Six, only six Nephilim possess the ability of
supernatural growth. They are armored and ready.”

“Good. Keep Kyle close with you and
remember it is up to the two of you to deal with Alan Price when he makes his
appearance.”

Dominic cut off his disrespectful scoff in a
mumbled apology. “I am out of line, of course. Still I do not understand why
you think so highly of the boy. I dispatched him single-handedly when I made
him dinner at his home. Besides, I thought you killed him on the cargo ship as
we raised the lost statue?”

Ardat’s eyes looked at the blank
cave wall just over Dominic’s shoulder as she replayed history’s most recent
events. “He sprouted wings. Wings like those that I had never seen before in my
lifetime. I don’t think I killed him that day.” Ardat paused as she mentally
recalled the image of the two blue wings that hummed with power. “No, I know I
didn’t kill him. I’m not sure what he is capable of but it is your assignment
to make sure we never find out.”

Dominic shrugged, “As you wish. I
will be ready and looking forward to his visit.”

Ardat shook her head clear of the
vision of Alan’s powerful wings. Her eyes focused on Dominic’s own outfit; dark
armor like her own, a wickedly curved scimitar and dirty slippers on his feet.
“You are going to wear those into the fight?”

“They’re like walking on clouds, my mistress.”

“Whatever you say. Signal the
troops to advance out of the main entrance. The giants will form the front
line. When we are engaged in direct battle with the enemy, and only when we are
engaged in direct battle, give the order to spring the trap.”

Dominic Drencher licked his lips in preparation
for the blood and gore that would soon cover him head to foot. In the ancient
tradition of dark Nephilim serving the Fallen, Dominic repeated the words of
servitude, “Yes, your will, my hands.”
 

Chapter 61

 
An hour. She had told him she was attacking in an
hour. Michael knew Ardat too well to think she was bluffing. So sure of her
victory, she didn’t care if he knew when they were coming. This gave him an
edge. They wouldn’t be taken by surprise. Not today.
Michael stood on the edge of a slopping sand dune.
A hundred yards in front of him a small mountain rose towards the heavens as if
seeking to touch the sky itself. They found Ardat’s hideout at the base of this
mountain. The entrance was wide enough for ten men to stand side by side and
still walk comfortably through. She would charge from this point, and with
superior numbers and weapons, hit them head on.

Michael turned his back on the cave
entrance to address his men and woman. Sun just beginning to peek over the many
sand dunes, the light reflected off his gold and silver armor like a bright burning
star. The dark blue cape flowing behind him contrasted against the brilliance
of his defensive covering perfectly. Caleb was right. He could see the
admiration in the eyes of those looking to him, each one willing him to break
the silence. They all stood at attention in tightknit rows. Wearing silver
armor of their own, some equipped with swords, shields, spears, clubs, most
relying on their own unique abilities to see them through the fight.

There was no differentiating the Angels and the
Nephilim: they stood as one unit. Angels with large white wings folded at their
backs stood next to Nephilim of all shapes and sizes. They all looked to
Michael ready for direction.

The lack of noise in the company of
such a large force was intimidating in its own right. No whispers muddied the
pure waters of silence, heat beat down on them, adrenaline ran rampant through pulsing
veins and hearts bore the weight of responsibility.

With the hour Ardat had given them to prepare all
but passed, Michael began what could very well be his last speech. “My brother
and sisters, chosen Nephilim and Angels alike, today we have been given a great
privilege. Today our paths have all met together. As one, our fates have been
intertwined and have led to this one single moment. Everything in your lives
has prepared you for this final battle.”

Michael paused as a distant
rumbling caught his attention. Glancing over his shoulder his eyes narrowed
into determined slits. Ardat’s army was approaching through the cave entrance,
a row of giants towering ten times taller than any man led the procession. Michael
examined the enemy, in the time of a quick heartbeat. “And now they come. Those
who would see us, our loved ones, our families, our friends either killed or
doomed to a life of slavery. We all know they outnumber us and are equipped
with celestial blades and armor. Still they do not have the strength we possess
in here!” Michael pounded a gauntlet-clad fist to his breastplate. A shout rose
to the throats of his men and came out so powerful that it caused his armor to
vibrate.

“They will never have the strength we posses in
our hearts, the strength that only justice, duty, freedom and love give. I
would take this side in a fight any day, no matter the odds. We will wrestle
those weapons from their hands and use the very things they would seek to
destroy our world to bring about their destruction!”

Another shout, this time louder
than the first. Michael twisted his body still looking at his army but pointing
his right index finger at the enemy. “Let us remind them united as one how
frightening and brutal men and woman can be when forced to protect the things
they love!”

 

Chapter 62

 

Michael was making one of his
famous speeches on the sand dune just as Ardat knew he would. He was
a
gifted leader able to inspire on demand, one of the many qualities that made
him so desirable to her. In the face of defeat, he was giving his soldiers an
edge. He was giving them hope and that was something Ardat could not allow.
“Full sprint head,” Ardat shouted from her position in the middle of the army.
Those close enough to hear her passed the order along.

The slow walk the army adopted as they departed
from the cave soon picked up tempo. Thousands of dark Nephilim swarmed
underneath her as they jogged then started to run. Her ability over gravity
allowed her to levitate herself above her soldiers.

Dark Nephilim now not only equipped
with their unique supernatural abilities but also with their otherworldly
weapons sprinted towards their prey. Ardat floated above them as they exited
the cave and crossed the hundred yards to Michael and his waiting army.

The soft sand underfoot would make those without
the power of speed or strength slow to a trot. They would be susceptible to
long-ranged weapons until they reached the front lines of the enemy. Ardat knew
either side would not use firearms. When both parties in a fight had men and
woman able to shoot electricity and fire from their hands, guns seemed to fall
a bit short.

Ardat patiently waited for the sound
of arrows and spears to fill the air.
How cute,
she thought to herself.
They
decided to wear matching armor.
The air was still clean; something that
would not be allowed to last long. Soon the stench of dead would fill the sky
along with the screams of the dying. Ardat basked in the clean air for a moment
longer before the familiar sounds of ranged weapons interrupted her peace.

She heard cries from her Nephilim
army to duck for cover. The giants that formed the front of their line were shielded
in armor. Not a single inch of exposed flesh was open. This would of course make
them slower but proved well worth it when the clatter of arrows and spears
could be heard shattering harmlessly against them. The few weapons that did
make it over their advancing walls of flesh and metal were quickly batted away
by Ardat. To her they were nothing more than a nuisance.

When her men saw how easily the enemy could be
dealt with, they roared with predatory delight. Giants still in the lead, they
closed the gap. Soon the foremost ranks of her army were climbing the steep
slope of sand where the first line of Angels and their Nephilim waited.

As soon as the sounds of battle met
her ears, Ardat moved to the front. She, much like Michael, had no intention of
sitting out this fight. To say “all hell broke loose” as the two armies clashed
would be an injustice. Even Ardat’s eyes blazed with wonder. Giants beat down
on the enemy frontlines with massive clubs and swords. Michael’s Angels took
flight and swooped low like birds of prey. They either used their own
supernatural abilities as their weapon or picked up a dark Nephilim to kill in
the air or drop from a deadly height. Fire, water, snow, wind, every element
was thrown against each side. Beings possessing mystical abilities put their
unique skills to use, bringing about death and pain to one another.

It was glorious in Ardat’s eyes. The moment she
had waited for since she knew they were defeated the very first time and cast
out of Heaven was finally here.

 

Chapter 63

 

Alan thought back to all the many days he spent as
a teenager. All the painfully awkward weeks of stuttering in front of
cheerleaders, dropping his books in view of all the most popular kids, tripping
while carrying his tray of food in the cafeteria, he was reminded of all of
these events as he learned to fly.

It was nothing like how he
imagined. He controlled his wings as any other limb. His brain told his wings
to flap just as it told his legs to run or his arms to move. Flying in and of
itself wasn’t the hard part. The most challenging obstacle of flight came when
he was buffeted from side to side by invisible wind gusts that came out of
nowhere. Flying in a straight line was hard enough without having to worry
about the hidden hands of the wind forcing him in different directions.

Despite this new challenge, Alan couldn’t help but
smile. Even as he awkwardly flapped his wings with the rest of the group,
sometimes careening here and there, most of the time battling the wind, Alan
felt alive. He felt invincible.

Air swirled around him. The world
was open beneath him and expanded out as far as the eye could see in every
direction. They continued their flight to the coordinates Michael provided them
as a next step, should their mission succeed. At the moment, this path was
taking them over a vast body of water. Dark blue shades lie quiet and flat
across the earth as they passed. Here and there, boats appeared too far below
for any of the Death Angels to worry about being seen.

They flew as one: Alan, the dozen most powerful Angels
in history and even Danielle. She piloted their jet burdened with heavenly armor
and weapons, as if she too were soaring on wings of her very own.
Although battle loomed in their very near future,
Alan felt a sense of peace. For the first time in his life, he knew why he was
created. He knew his purpose; all the puzzle pieces were beginning to fit.
Everything was making sense. Now as they sped over the dark water at a speed
that pushed even Danielle’s jet to its limits, Jericho sided up beside him and
shouted over the roar of the rushing wind. “Looks like you’re catching on to
this whole flying thing rather quickly. How does it feel?”

Alan smiled as he thought about
that simple statement. “I can’t believe I’m flying in the first place. I’m just
glad I’m not afraid of heights.”

The large man beamed as he flapped his even larger
wings. “Like anything else, it will get easier with practice. We are going to
be nearing the battle coordinates very soon, it might be time to gear up.”

“Gear up?”

“Yep, Danielle has opened the rear hatch on the
jet and Seraphim is in there now. She’s going to start preparing us for battle.
It’s kind of a thing she does for us as our leader.”

Alan’s face must have expressed his
surprise because Jericho chuckled aloud. “She’s not all death and battle. I
mean, she mostly is, but she cares about us, too. We are a family and now you
with us.”

“Okay,” Alan said taking his new comrade at his
word. With more than a little floundering, Alan managed to slow his pace from
the rest of the pack and begin to gain elevation. Danielle was piloting the jet
just above and behind the flying group of Angels. Alan continued to slow his
rate of flight until the jet was directly overhead and then allowed it to pass.

While he waited for the jet to pass
over him and the rear hatch to come into view, Alan’s breath caught in his
throat. Eleven pairs of jet-black flapping wings beat in unison. Eleven of the
most deadly creatures to ever walk or fly this earth or any other now traveled
as one. The way their wings beat against the clouds was enough to make any poet
pause for words. It was an awesome and deadly sight all at once.

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