Authors: Philip W Simpson
Tags: #teen, #religion, #rapture, #samael, #samurai, #tribulation, #adventure, #action, #hell, #angels
The sky
brightened further, not that it made much of a difference. The
thick, dark clouds took care of that, not giving the sun a chance
for even a glimmer of light to break through the solid barrier. It
was still lighter than it had been though.
Sam decided to
stay where he was for now. He doubted whether the Cambions would
come back for him, even if they knew exactly where he was. The
light would keep them at bay. He was relatively safe – or as safe
as he could be – for the moment. The thicket offered him
concealment and kept the worst of the light away from him while he
healed.
More for
comfort than any great need, he reached for his pack, hoping to get
a snack and a swig of water before remembering that it was still in
the motel room. He’d have to go back for it. It contained other
things that he needed, sentimental and otherwise. He couldn’t leave
it.
Sighing
heavily, he stood, still somewhat shaky, and disentangled himself
from the thicket. Wearily, he limped back in the direction of the
motel. As he walked, he kept his senses attuned to what was going
on around him. He was fairly certain the Cambions were gone but he
wasn’t about to take any chances.
Despite his
caution, his mind kept returning to one thought as he retraced his
path. Aimi. Not just Aimi. Spending the night with her. It seemed
like more time had passed than it had since the previous night.
Lots had happened in the last few hours. His encounter with his
father in the dream world. His battle and pursuit by the Cambions.
But his thoughts were still dominated by her face. The feel of her.
How she smelt.
He wondered
where she was right now and when he’d see her next. Unbidden, he
thought about what his father had said about her. How those in
Heaven were using her to manipulate him. He didn’t believe it for a
second but then again, Gabriel had always been a bit loose with the
truth. Perhaps there was something the Archangel wasn’t telling
him?
The words of
his father came back to him: he’d find out soon enough.
Pennsylvania
“
Very rarely will
anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might
possibly dare to die.”
Romans 5:7
S
ometime during the next night, he passed into
Pennsylvania. He’d spent most of the time on the Interstate which
seemed to be the easiest way to get around these days. In the first
year after the Rapture, it had almost been a death trap. Bandits
had preyed upon anyone travelling down them and Sam avoided them at
all costs. Now, most survivors had either retreated to the
mountains or the wilderness. The lucky ones were at the few
operational armed forces bases. The interstates also seemed to
resist the worst that the nature could throw at them. The increase
in the amount of earthquakes and firestorms had done little to
affect their structural integrity. Other, smaller roads hadn’t
fared as well. Sam had entered small towns in the recent past that
were impassable – almost completely destroyed.
As for the
Cambions - well, he’d got lucky there. He hadn’t seen one sign of
them which was just as well given that he’d only just started to
feel his normal self after the injuries he’d sustained in the last
encounter. The moon was helping though. As soon as it had emerged,
he’d immediately started feeling better. It also gave him something
to look at as he walked. Something about the crimson sphere drew
his attention and gave him comfort like nothing else. And there
wasn’t much else to see. The sky was otherwise featureless. No
stars, just a few dark ominous looking clouds that hinted of rain
but never delivered.
He thought
about Aimi almost continuously, wondering how long it would be
until he saw her again. He also considered the problem of Gabriel.
He desperately wanted to talk to her, to get reassurance, to have
some of his questions answered. At one point, he was even so brazen
as to call her name out loud, but wasn’t terribly surprised when
she didn’t immediately materialize.
He’d kept his
glamor and his concealment ability wrapped closely about him like a
cloak. It was clear that the Cambions could track him physically,
even if they couldn’t sense him, so he took care to conceal his
tracks. He passed various other demons as he jogged along – some no
more than twenty feet away - but they failed to notice his
presence. An hour earlier, an Astaroth had even flown over his
head, so close he could’ve stabbed it with his sword but it hadn’t
even looked down, oblivious to the dangerous temptation below.
Sometimes, to amuse himself, he thought of himself in those terms -
a dangerous temptation. Like chocolate to an obese person. They
wanted him but were likely to get killed in the process.
Fifteen minutes
earlier, he’d moved through Wheeling and across the West Virginia
River – not that there was much left to see of the once mighty flow
of water. It had all but dried up; the remnants an ugly, sluggish,
ash-filled goop. No living thing could possibly survive drinking
that.
Shortly
thereafter, he was in Pennsylvania. Jogging down the car-strewn
interstate about twenty miles later, he found himself passing
through another town. He located a road sign and cleaned it off
enough to read what it said. Washington. He was in Washington,
Pennsylvania. First town he’d been through in Pennsylvania. First
time in Pennsylvania, actually. During his travels, Sam had visited
roughly half the states but none now were terribly different from
each other. All mostly deserted, covered in ash, vegetation dead or
dying, ravished by earthquake and fire. It became depressingly
monotonous after a while. What he’d give for a bit of color for a
change.
Now, Sam
guessed it must be around 5am. Just outside Washington, still on
the interstate. Sam liked this time of the morning. It was often a
lull time when everything was quiet. There were fewer demons on the
streets and in the air, and even the light swirl of ash ceased for
a while.
Into this
quiet, something intruded - a light in the sky. Sam’s heart began
to beat faster in his chest with the thought that it could be Aimi
but as it got closer, Sam felt his excitement ebb away. It was an
angel alright, but it wasn’t her. Couldn’t be her. Far too big.
The angel
hurtled down towards him. At almost the last moment, it unfurled
its folded wings like a sail and landed with graceful precision
just in front of Sam. He recognized her immediately.
“Hello,
Gabriel.” Perhaps she’d heard him call her name after all but had
deliberately waited. It would be a bad look if an Archangel dropped
everything to answer a summons from a demon. Probably frowned upon
in her angelic circles.
She nodded ever
so slightly at him, smiled and folded her wings neatly behind her
back. Her glow began to fade almost as soon as she landed. Sam
figured it was probably done in a conscious effort not to draw any
more attention to herself. Not that it mattered. Demons for miles
around would’ve seen it, but given it was almost dawn, they might
not investigate. Besides, demons were probably pretty wary of
glowing lights in the sky by now. They could only mean one
thing.
“Good morning,
Samael.”
“You’re being
very formal with me, aren’t you?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
“Normally you call me Sam. Something to do with my popularity at
the moment?”
“Popularity?”
she asked, sounding puzzled.
“I had a few
visitors yesterday. First Aimi, which was a welcome surprise. Then
my father. Finally a group of Cambions out on a hunting expedition.
It would’ve been fun except for the fact that they were hunting me.
Know anything about all this?”
The only
indication Gabriel gave of being surprised was raising her eyebrows
slightly. “First, Aimi. Yes, of course I knew about her. We gave
her permission to visit you. Secondly, no. It concerns me that the
Great Betrayer would contact you now, of all times. He’s up to
something as usual. And thirdly, that’s just the subject I came to
warn you about.”
It was Sam’s
turn to be surprised. “What? The Cambions?”
Gabriel nodded.
“How did you fare against them?” she asked.
“Ok, I guess,”
he replied. There were times to talk things up – not that it was in
Sam’s nature to do so. This, however, wasn’t one of them. “I got
one of them but not before he wounded me. He had one of those
cursed blades. Like my brothers.”
“Like your
brother’s, but not as powerful. Like his, they have the ability to
drain energy though. They also slow your healing powers.”
“I know all
this,” said Sam impatiently. “I found out the hard way. I had to
smash my way out of the motel I was in. Broke my foot and
dislocated my shoulder in the process. They almost had me, then
dawn came and they disappeared. Just as well. There’s no way I
could’ve beaten them all.”
“They are known
as the Devil’s Hand, in case you didn’t know.”
This was news
to him. “Devil’s what?”
“Hand. Lucifer
has used them for thousands of years to conduct special missions -
missions of grave importance to him. He does not employ them
lightly. That’s what I came to warn you about, not just to have a
casual conversation. These are not just normal Cambions you are
dealing with.”
“I know,” he
said. “They’re of royal blood, like mine but weaker.”
“No,” said
Gabriel. She looked grim. “That’s not it at all. Yes, they are of
royal blood, but the Devil’s Hand is special.”
“Special, how?”
he asked. “They still died like every other demon, didn’t they?”
And then the memory struck him again. The knowing smile of the
demon as he killed it and the odd way it just disappeared. He
clicked his fingers. “It’s not dead, is it?”
She smiled at
him without humor. “Very perceptive, Samael. The Devil’s Hand is
the most deadly foe you are ever likely to face because they cannot
be killed here on Earth. In fact, every time you kill them here,
they will return stronger.”
“Let me get
this straight,” said Sam, something like panic awakening in his
chest. “Each time I kill one, it comes back stronger than it was
before? You mean the one I destroyed yesterday will come back and
be faster and more deadly?”
“Exactly.”
Sam threw his
arms up into the air in exasperation. “Great. Wonderful. How am I
supposed to compete with that? I barely managed to defeat one of
them yesterday. Why has my father sent them against me? And why
now?”
“I don’t know,”
confessed Gabriel. “This is a crucial time for him. For all of us.
Your brother will be sailing for these shores at the head of an
invasion fleet very shortly. Perhaps your father wants you out of
the way, to ensure that your brother succeeds where he failed last
time. And of course, you must know where you will end up if you do
die …”
Sam froze.
Despite everything, he hadn’t really thought of this. Hadn’t
thought it through. Maybe he was avoiding it as something too
terrible to contemplate. But as soon as Gabriel said it, he knew.
When he died he would go to Hell. Not Heaven. Hell. It was where he
belonged.
Gabriel saw the
realization dawn in his face. She reached out and touched his arm
in what he knew was intended as a sympathetic gesture. Angrily, he
shook it off.
“Yes, Hell.
Then you will be at his mercy and his command. That must be his
intention. Where he failed to convince you with coercion and lies,
he will succeed with brute force.”
Sam knew that
was exactly his father’s intention. He wouldn’t waste such a
valuable resource as the Devil’s Hand on him otherwise. But he
wouldn’t go down without a fight. Surely, there must be a way to
defeat them?
“How can I
win?” he asked, pleased that his voice did not betray him.
Gabriel looked
away. If Sam knew her at all, she appeared conflicted. “I shouldn’t
be telling you this. There will be a price to pay for this
knowledge but I think you deserve to know. To end them, to end the
Devil’s Hand once and for all, you must face them and destroy each
one in Hell.”
Sam was
surprised. “Is that all? Doesn’t sound too difficult.”
“Your arrogance
is unbecoming,” she said, scowling at him. Sam didn’t care.
Gabriel’s approval was the last thing on his mind. “The Devil’s
Hand is notoriously difficult to find, their location a closely
guarded secret. And even if you did find them, you will be fighting
them on their own turf. As a unit. In Hell, they never fight
alone.”
Sam nodded but
said nothing. A thought had just occurred to him but he wasn’t
about to share it with Gabriel.
“And what of
your father?” she asked. “What did he tell you?”
Something told
Sam it was best not to mention Aimi in the conversation. He had a
feeling that in the manipulation stakes, both Heaven and Hell were
guilty. “Nothing really. Just his usual mocking. Told me to expect
a surprise.” The Devil’s Hand and their unusual powers presumably.
Well, Sam hoped so in any case. He didn’t need any more surprises
at this stage.
Gabriel
appeared satisfied with this response. “I see.”
“What am I
supposed to do now? Any particular instructions or advice?”
“Just keep
doing what you are doing. In New York, you will find many desperate
souls. Help them when you can. Destroy those who deserve it.
Prepare the way for Him, for your Savior.”
“And what about
Aimi?”
Gabriel smiled
her knowing smile. “You will see her again.”
“When?” he
demanded.
Gabriel’s smile
evaporated. “Do not demand things of me, demon spawn. You will see
her in good time. Now, I must be off. I will see you again soon,
Samael.”
Once again, Sam
said nothing, just watched her as she took off, disappearing
through the cloud cover that was even now brightening with the
advance of daylight. He hadn’t appreciated her tone. Demon spawn
indeed. Something had nettled her. And he suspected that he knew
what. Gabriel was unaccustomed to demands being made from her.
Especially from a half-human, half-demon hybrid. Aimi seemed to be
a sore point as well. He wondered what was really going on behind
the scenes. It certainly appeared that he was being toyed with a
little. Heaven was using Aimi to keep him on side, while his father
was trying to kill him to ensure that he was trapped in Hell at his
side.