Demon Evolution (10 page)

She turned and gazed into his nearly-black
eyes, and replied, “I love you, too,
lommel
.”

He looked at her, perplexed, trying to work
through her words like they were a puzzle. Unable to make sense of
it, he asked, “What’s a
lommel
?”

Taylor laughed and spelled it out for him:
“L-O-M-L—lommel.”

Still not getting it, Gabriel just looked at
her, unblinking.

Pausing after each word, Taylor explained,
“Love…Of…My…Life. You’re lommel.”

At this small revelation, Gabriel felt such
an overwhelming degree of love and happiness that he found it hard
to believe that less than a week ago he had been festering away in
a dark, dank prison cell, with nothing to look forward to but a
swift and painless death.
Oh how quickly things can change
,
he marveled to himself. He pulled her closer and they turned their
attention back to the entertainment. Everyone was happy, and
seemingly safe for the moment.

What none of them knew was that a few
important truths had been woven into the last few minutes of their
lives: Taylor was even braver than Clifford had given her credit
for, the fullness of their laughter represented the great calm
before the storm, and things could, and most decidedly would,
change quickly and without regard for those in the path of the huge
and sometimes destructive wheel of life.

In fact, everything was about to change. And
soon. Not tomorrow, or the next day, but right then.

A
fter another twenty
minutes or so of mind-numbing and ear-shocking explosions of
aesthetically-pleasing eye candy, the atmosphere went dark. A light
breeze purged the sky of any lingering traces of smoke. It was time
for the grand finale.

A few minutes of silence followed, and then a
booming voice resonated across the valley. “I hope you’ve enjoyed
the 2010 Demon Spectacular!” Raucous cheers and whistles erupted
from the mountain below. The voice continued: “Please enjoy the
grand finale and remember to volunteer for next year’s show,
planning starts at the beginning of April.”

Silence retook the night and all eyes
transfixed on the sky, expecting greatness. A bright spotlight
shone on the flat valley floor below. The beam of light fixed on a
large cannon, sitting alone and unmanned. A sparkle of light flared
near the main entrance to the Lair as a large fuse was lit. Burning
quickly, the twisting, turning, fiery snake made its way to the
lone cannon. As the igniter approached the ancient weapon, Taylor
held her breath—she wasn’t the only one.

The cannon ignited and, with a spurt of
flame, fired
something
into the air, an object of some sort.
The object was long and seemed to be sheathed in a thick, white
mantle. Rising high in the sky the bundle reached its peak, and the
covering fell away, revealing the true horror hidden inside. The
audience stared in shock, as shimmering white wings spread forth
from the now-glowing object. Realization set in as murmurs began to
crop up through the crowd. Starting as whispers, they became louder
and louder until someone yelled, “It’s an angel!”

At that moment, the angel’s legs swung
backwards and it rocketed through the air. It was heading directly
for “the best seat in the house,” as Chris had earlier referred to
their little cliff cave.

This time, Taylor allowed Gabriel to drag her
to her feet. She felt herself being pulled against the wall. The
group parted in the middle, like crazed fans at a rock concert
allowing their idols to pass through them. Seconds later, the
streaking angel crash-landed with a thud in the center of the cave.
The angel nearly smashed its head off of the roof as it passed by
them, and then skidded to a stop. Even Taylor, with her limited
knowledge of angels and demons, knew that something wasn’t right.
The angel was dead.

S
ampson rushed to
the angel, who was lying face down on the ground and, checking for
a pulse, confirmed, “It’s dead.” Turning it over, he gasped when he
saw the face. “Oh, please, no,” he croaked. His head dropped, his
shoulders slumped, and he covered his head in his hands.
“Noooooooo!” he screamed, the sound partially muffled by his
palms.

Approaching the body, Gabriel looked over
Sampson’s shoulder. He quickly identified the face. “It’s Boyd
Chance. Dammit.”

Wanting to know the significance of this
particular angel’s death, but trying to be respectful, Taylor said
softly, “I’m so sorry, Gabriel. Who is Boyd Chance?”

When both living angels remained silent,
Clifford surprised her by responding. “He was one of our spies. We
recruited him about a year after Sampson.”

Sampson finally looked up from his hands and
stared at Clifford. A single tear dripped from his eye and
painstakingly began the descent down his fractured cheek. His cheek
was not physically fractured, but mentally and emotionally torn—his
face was contorted in pain, agony. “No,” he contradicted, “I
recruited him. This is my fault.”

Clifford said, “We all had a hand to play in
this good angel’s death. We must not let his efforts go to waste.
There are another twenty-six angel spies trapped in that mountain.”
He pointed out of the cave mouth, towards the steep mountain to the
west. “Given what’s just happened, we can now assume that they have
all been detected and will be executed swiftly. We must save
them.”

Gabriel turned to speak, but as he opened his
mouth, the angels’ mountain suddenly pulsed with bright, white
light. Brighter than the powerful floodlights of an international
airport at night, the valley was now fully illuminated; visibility
was as good as it would be under a noonday sun on a cloudless day.
Several demons screamed on the mountainside below. A voice echoed
across the wide expanse, projected by a powerful microphone and
speakers.

“You have now seen what we are willing to
do,” the voice boomed. Taylor recognized it immediately, but it was
different somehow.

The voice of Dionysus continued: “We will do
whatever it takes to reclaim what was ours.
Whatever
…it
takes,” he repeated.
Whatever.
The word had an ominous ring
to it. Taylor realized what was different about his voice. From her
experience with the Head of the Archangel Council, Taylor had found
him to be shrewd, clever even. His voice was usually dripping with
propaganda. She would describe him as snakelike. Since she had met
the evil leader of the angels, Taylor could probably count on one
finger the number of
true
things he had said to her. His
words were generally heavy-laden with lies—he said whatever was
needed to ensure he got what he wanted. Now, hearing his vague
threats, she knew he was telling the complete and utter truth.
Abandoning his propaganda, Dionysus was ready to hit the demons,
along with Gabriel, Taylor, and whoever else stood in the way, with
whatever would hurt them the most.

In this case, what would hurt the most would
be the death of the traitors who had forsaken their own kind and
pledged their loyalties to the enemy. In short, he would execute
the angel spies.

“They’re going to kill them!” another demon
yelled from below.

Clifford, the demon Elders, and Taylor and
her friends scrambled to the side of the cliff, leaving the young
Boyd Chance lifeless on the cave floor. Sampson was the first to
see the horror that lay beyond them: Dozens of angels were tied to
stakes with fiercely bright ropes. From this distance, Taylor’s
mere human sight was unable to extract any details about the
situation, but Gabriel, using his superhuman senses, locked in on
the scene with the precision of high-powered binoculars. He recited
what he saw like he was reading an intelligence report.

“We’ve got twenty-five…no, make that
twenty-six angels tethered to two-foot diameter, titanium rods,
using highly angel-proof lashes, wrapped around their arms and
legs. There are at least two dozen guards, armed with blasters and
light-swords. There is no sign of Dionysus; he is probably just
speaking from the Command Center.”

Coincidentally, upon mention of Dionysus, the
echoing voice returned. “We know you have
the girl
in your
custody. Return her to us immediately, and none of these angels
have to die. We will allow them to cross over into your mountain,
to fight with you, and to die with you as they see fit.” The voice
paused, and then said, “You have five minutes to choose.”

Gabriel evidently didn’t need five minutes.
He said, “Sampson, Chris, Kiren—let’s take care of this now.
Obviously, we are not going to give them Taylor, so there’s no
decision to make. As Clifford said, we have to save them.” Sampson
nodded firmly, clearly agreeing with Gabriel’s idea.

“No!” Taylor objected. “I will not watch my
friends get slaughtered because of me. I will go willingly.”

Gabriel responded quickly and strongly:
“Taylor, I know you mean it and that your heart is in the right
place, but let us do this. We are trained for situations like this
and have a good chance of getting out alive with some of the angel
prisoners.”

“Some!?” she shouted. “I will not have my own
life be the cause of
anyone’s
death. Not angel, demon, or
human. Not even gargoyle. I will go.”

“Wait!” Chris and Kiren said simultaneously.
They both looked at the wise, old leader of their race, who had
remained silent thus far, preferring to listen to the
discussion.

Chris asked, “Clifford, what should we
do?”

Clifford sighed mightily. “It is a curse to
live during such evil times, but I do not regret the burden I have
been given, because it is also a blessing to have the opportunity
to do so much good. Taylor, your courage is heartening and
refreshing. I fear that most girls your age would sacrifice their
own mother to spare themselves any semblance of pain, especially
the risk of death, yet you willingly go, like a lamb to the
slaughter. You are truly remarkable. I hope, and fear, that it will
not be your last act of bravery before the War is won.

“However, you cannot give yourself to the
angels, as that will all but ensure their victory—in their hands,
the power within you is far too dangerous. You saw what happened
the last time. We lost a lot of good men and women.” He paused to
collect his thoughts. The clock was ticking: Three minutes had
elapsed since Dionysus had issued the time-based ultimatum.

Taylor took the opportunity to make another
suggestion. “Then I must die,” she said firmly. When Gabriel
started to interject again, she silenced him with a hand and said,
“Until I am either in the hands of the angels, or dead, your enemy
will terrorize you. They will kill you and anyone that helps you.
As you just pointed out, if I end up in their hands it will mean
the end of life as we know it. Therefore, the only option is for me
to go quietly into the night, to a better place. At least that is a
contribution that I can make.”

Clifford was already shaking his head. “No,
that is also not an option. The angels will just find another
person, with another powerful aura, to take your place. For now, we
must try to use the fact that they are focused on you to our
advantage. But that is a topic for another time.”
Four minutes
had passed, only one remained before the executions.
“Now we
must act quickly and we don’t have time to assemble a task force,
so we must rely on the angels and demons in this cave. I will stay
with Taylor and Samantha, as my duty requires, but must request the
assistance of the rest of you for this important mission.

“I certainly would never force any of you, as
it will be highly dangerous, but ask you now for your support.”

Chris and Kiren immediately raised their
fists in the air, using the demon sign of agreement. Gabriel and
Sampson followed their example. To Taylor’s surprise, the five
demon Elders followed with fists of their own; they were willing to
risk their lives—unlike the members of the Archangel Council who
rarely considered going into battle—even though they would be
outnumbered.

Clifford watched Taylor closely as if she
might, at any time, throw herself off of the cliff and onto the
jagged rocks below. Taylor knew she was being watched and was
half-considering doing just that. “Taylor, the decision has been
made. Do we have your support?” Clifford said.
Thirty seconds
left.

Taylor looked at her friends as they stared
back at her. She looked at Samantha. Their eyes locked and more
understanding passed between them than could have been communicated
in a thousand words. Perfectly synchronized, the two human girls
raised their fists in the air.

“Good, now go!” Clifford shouted.

Gabriel barely had a chance to kiss Taylor on
the cheek before he leapt from the cliff, plummeting towards the
earth. Sampson followed with a swan dive. Just when it seemed
certain that her angel boyfriend was having a wing-malfunction, his
magnificent, ivory, feathery limbs burst outwards and he soared
high in the air, much faster than a bird. Chris pecked Sam on the
lips and then was gone, having teleported beyond sight. Following
his lead, Kiren and the Elders began vanishing, until only Taylor
and her best friend, along with Clifford, stood watching the valley
below.

C
lifford raised a
radio to his lips and ordered, “Get everyone inside and assemble
the army!” He looked at Taylor, who was watching him curiously.
“Just in case,” he explained.

“Look!” Samantha exclaimed. Taylor saw that
both flying angels now had passengers, most likely Chris and Kiren,
who had teleported onto their backs, clutching at their feathers to
keep from being thrown off by the force of their speedy flight,
like cowboys riding bareback with only the horses’ manes to hold on
to.