Authors: Nic Widhalm
Hunter, standing a few feet away and gazing back at the warren of twisting roads with a boyish grin, turned to Jackie. When he met her eyes his smile dropped. “Don’t get me involved,” he muttered.
“AHHHHH!” Jackie pointed her chin to the sky and let loose her fatigue and frustration. “This is pointless! You said yourself we’re lost. What the hell do you think we’re going to find out here? This city is
dead
, Anthony. It has been for four hundred years, and sorry, I’m not feeling like a tourist today. Why did we travel halfway across the world when we could have just as easily hid in Canada or Mexico? What makes you think we can even hide in the first place?” Jackie paused, her eyes wide, her breath coming hot and ragged. “They’re
angels
, Anthony. Mother-fucking Jesus-in-a-manger, twelve-wise-men, I-bring-good-tidings,
angels
! We can’t fight them,” she whispered, her eyes drifting to the ground. “We can’t.”
Hunter hunched his shoulders, trying to disappear into his jacket. Valdis looked at Jackie with a shocked, horrified expression. Jackie saw her companions out of the corner of her eye as she stared at the ground, the echo of her words hanging in the dry night air. It was true, everything she said. When they had been running, focusing on getting money, fleeing the country, finding a flight, a destination…it had been easier to lie to herself. But now, here…the reality of what they were facing was hard to ignore. It was getting more difficult not to just give up. And for a woman who had fought her way through police academy, striving to excel in a business of machismo and old spice, the thought was like a bullet to the gut. It tore at her to admit defeat, but the time of delusions and false hope was at an end.
“
You
can’t,” a new voice echoed down the tiny alley, “but we can.”
Jackie’s eyes snapped forward. Two dark shapes were walking toward them from the entrance of the alley. Friskin watched as well, his brow lowered. The hunched, uncomfortable man who had been with them a moment ago was gone; Hunter was practically bristling with aggression.
As the two figures stepped into the light, Jackie saw they both wore the thick beards and deeply tanned skin native to Jerusalem. Jackie frantically tried to recall what she had said in her rant, searching for something that might have come across offensive or sacrilegious.
Oh shit. There was that part about angels…
Valdis stepped closer to Jackie, holding up his arms, his eyes pinched with concern. Not for them, Jackie knew, but for the strangers. They had both seen what Hunter could do when he was upset.
“We don’t have any money,” Valdis said weakly. “But take my jacket. It keeps the dust—”
The taller of the two men laughed abruptly. It was a high, squeaky, machine-gun sound that ricocheted off the close walls. “We don’t want your money,” the second of the two strangers said, and his companion immediately grew silent. “We are the ones you’ve been looking for. Yes?” His voice had a pleasant, welcoming sound; the accent warm and educated. The single alley light threw shadows across his face, but Jackie could make out two flashing brown eyes.
“I’m sorry?” Valdis asked.
“You came because of the angels—the Malach.”
The priest shared a hooded look with Hunter, ignoring Jackie, then nodded.
“Good,” the gray-eyed man said, flashing a smile which caused his tall companion to bark another short, squeaky laugh. “In that case gentlemen…and ladies,” he smirked at Jackie. “You’ve come to the right place. Welcome to the Order of Venus.”
The two men led them down the alley, then wound their way back through the Armenian Quarter, changing directions at random. Jackie figured she’d have to apologize to Valdis later, as the priest didn’t appear quite so crazy anymore. Granted, that would only happen if they managed to live through the night—a prospect Jackie found increasingly doubtful as they moved farther and farther from the heart of the city.
Valdis followed the men blithely, his lips pulled back in a stunned smile. Jackie wanted to smack the grin off his face. How in the world had she let him talk her into this? Allying herself with a fugitive angel and traveling half-way across the world with no explanation why? At the time it seemed like she had no choice, but now Jackie wondered. Were there no other options, or had she just wanted to appease her curiosity?
“Here,” the brown-eyed man said, stopping in front of a large industrial building. The stranger’s path had taken them far from the city, leading to the outskirts of the desert and into zones more suited for textile manufacturing than faith building. Jackie eyed the industrial building warily—the peeling paint looked like decaying flesh in the light of the moon. The taller man stepped forward and rapped sharply on a steel door.
As they waited, Jackie glanced around. The place was deserted, which felt wrong as hell. After years working the streets and back corners of Denver, she had learned to trust her gut when it said trouble, and right now it was doing backflips.
“Wait,” Valdis said to the backs of the two guides. “I have a few questions first.” The priest seemed nervous. His sallow skin hung loosely from his face and his brow was wet with sweat. Jackie wondered how much sleep the old man had gotten in the last few weeks.
“No time,” the gray-eyed man said, nodding to his friend. The tall man smiled, his lips climbing disturbingly far up his long face, and yanked down on the door handle. Bright, flashing red and yellow light escaped from the entrance as the door pulled back, and a pounding beat flooded the street.
“What the…” said Hunter.
“Great, a fucking discotheque,” Jackie sighed.
“Let’s go,” the brown-eyed man said, walking into the flashing light. Jackie followed, stepping into a wall of thudding, floor pounding bass. Inside, strobe lights and flickering, multi-colored lasers played across the large warehouse floor.
The room was immense, and packed wall to wall with flesh. Writhing figures of all ages were crammed together like a jigsaw puzzle. Jackie shook her head in disgust as they made their way through the crowd, eying couples that looked as if they were one step away from screwing right there on the dance floor. She’d already lost count of how many drug transfers they’d passed.
“Where are we,” Jackie cried, unable to hear herself over the heavy music.
Hunter squinted at her lips, trying to make out what she was saying, then shrugged in defeat. He motioned to keep up with their two guides, and continued pushing through the thick crowd.
Stupid kids. Humping each other like it’s not the fucking Apocalypse outside.
She didn’t want to admit it, but Jackie was envious. It wasn’t that long ago she could have strolled into a club and danced until her feet were bloody. It seemed like an eternity ago.
Finally, they made it to the other side of the room and were met with a single, roped off exit guarded by two massive bouncers. Meeting the eyes of the brown-eyed man, the lead bouncer nodded, touched a finger to his ear, then drew back the rope and waved them through.
“Thanks,” Jackie gave the bouncer a syrupy smile. He growled something, then turned back to the crowd, his words lost in the noise.
And a good fuck you, pal
, she thought.
See if I come back.
The three followed their guides down a dark corridor, Hunter in the lead with Jackie and Valdis a few steps behind. The detective had snaked her arm around the priest, but despite her help they were starting to fall behind. Valdis’ didn’t say anything, but his feet were dragging the stone floor with each step. His breathing had grown ragged. Looking back, Hunter saw the pair drifting farther behind. “Hold on a sec,” he said to the brown-eyed man. “Give us a minute to catch our breath.”
“I told you, no time,” the man said over his shoulder, his feet never slowing. Hunter turned helplessly back and forth between the guides and his two companions.
“It’s okay,” Valdis said breathlessly. “Keep going.”
Hunter frowned, hesitating another second, then turned and hurried after the two men disappearing down the dark tunnel.
Jackie grit her teeth as she watched Hunter run off, swallowing the words she wanted to spit after him. Instead, she focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The priest was getting heavier by the minute.
“I thought…you knew what…you were doing,” Jackie panted, pulling Valdis down the hall. “I guess this all makes sense to you?”
Valdis shook his head slightly. “The Order was an educated guess. This,” he waved at the tunnel, “was unexpected.”
Jackie examined the walls as they inched down the corridor. At first, with her eyes blinded from the flashing lights of the dance floor, the walls had appeared a featureless, washed-out green. But now, adjusted to the darkness of the tunnel, Jackie saw something else. Something etched in continuous, flowing lines that followed them as they moved down the tunnel. The shapes were alien, but the way they were strung together seemed familiar.
“Anthony,” Jackie said. “Are you seeing this?”
The priest nodded, his breathing returning to normal as they slowed their pace. “Enochian.”
Jackie tried to decipher some kind of meaning in the swirling lines, but came up short. “What does it mean?” She asked.
Valdis peered at the looping, twisting lines, his weight lifting off Jackie as his attention shifted to the tunnel. “I think,” Valdis removed himself from Jackie’s arm and walked closer to the wall, “it’s some sort of history. Here, see this?” He drew Jackie closer, jabbing excitedly at one of the sections that looked exactly the same as the others. “I’ve seen this before, under Saint Catherine's. It
is
a history.” The priest suddenly laughed, the sound startling Jackie. She’d been too distracted supporting Valdis to notice the pounding bass of the discothèque had completely disappeared. Valdis’ laughter echoed down the long corridor, twisting into a high, squeaky sound. Jackie shivered.
“What is it?” She asked.
“It’s a history of the beyond, Detective. The part that had fallen into rubble back home, the section I’ve spent the last two decades studying—it’s
complete.
This is a full history of the Apkallu!”
Jackie looked away from the wall and saw that Hunter’s broad back had disappeared in the distance. “Um…Father?”
“This is beyond fantastic,” The priest ran his shaking hands across the wall. “I can discover in one hour what it took me years to learn back home.”
“Father?” Jackie said, alarm bells ringing in her head. Her gut was wrapped around her spine, bile biting the back of her throat.
“What?”
“Something’s up,” Jackie pulled her Beretta from her waistband, the familiar weight of the .40 caliber momentarily banishing her fear.
Get a grip
, she told herself.
You’re jumping at shadows like a damn rookie.
Her firearm nestled in both hands, Jackie strained her ears.
“Don’t be ridicul—” Valdis began to say, then stopped, his eyes widening. He peaked over his shoulder, back the way they had come, then forward to where Hunter and the two guides had disappeared. “Oh dear,” he whispered.
“What?” Jackie demanded. The Beretta shook slightly in her hand.
“I…I should never have brought us here.”
Then shapes from the darkness came forward into the light, and before she could think Jackie fired. The heavy, leaden crack of the Beretta exploded around her, lighting the darkness for a second. In that moment Jackie saw dozens of figures surrounding them, their arms raised against the brilliance of the gun.
“Enough of that,” someone growled, and Jackie felt the press of cold metal against her back. She raised her arms, and someone ripped the gun from her hand. Blinking, Jackie tried to regain the night-sight that had been destroyed in the muzzle flash, figures swimming in and out of her vision. Beside her, Valdis groaned.
“Someone wants to talk to you,” a voice said. “We’re not going to have any—” Before the voice could finish, Jackie swung her elbow back and into her attacker’s face. She felt a snap that told her she’d broken her assailant’s nose. Turning, she brought her arm down in a sharp knife-hand that smacked the gun, sending it skittering across the stone floor.
As the spots in Jackie’s vision started to clear, she counted ten figures surrounding them. One of the dark shapes moved to Jackie’s right, and her boot shot out, catching the figure in the crotch. She heard a gasp and the shape collapsed to the floor.
Nine.
Jackie closed her eyes, giving them time to readjust to the dark. She remembered where the figures had been. Assuming they weren’t soldiers…
She heard a shout behind her and dropped into a crouch, letting her left leg shoot backward. A heavy weight crashed against it, tripped, and grunted as it smacked the floor.
Eight.
Jackie rose, aiming a kick where she hoped the attacker had fallen, and felt a satisfying
thwack
as her foot connected. She fell still, listening, trying to gauge where the next attack would—
Gunfire shattered the stillness. Jackie fell to her knees, her hands cupped against her ears as the deafening crack echoed through the corridor.
“I said enough!” The voice roared. Hands grabbed Jackie, yanking her arms behind her. She felt the cold metal of handcuffs, and opened her eyes. She couldn’t make out much in the dark, but thought she saw the huddled figure of Valdis pressed against the wall.
Fucking coward
.