Angels of War Battle of Archangels (Book 3) (Angels of War Trilogy) Page 22

  “Ok. This one is for you, Sam.” Patricia bolted up the ramp to find David Brown.

  53

  Maria stormed into General Black’s command tent. “What happened?”

  General Black stood from his swivel chair. “Patricia decided to attack the White House,” he said. “I urged her not to.”

  Maria smiled at Patricia’s audacity. “Did she ask for help?”

  “No,” Black said. “But she asked us to save Israel.”

  “Israel?”

  General Black nodded. “Armand and David are planning to attack Israel.”

  “When?”

  “I’m not sure. But according to our spy, they think destroying Israel will end the war and secure the Black Army’s victory.”

  Maria folded her arms. She wished Joan or Daisy stayed to help lead the Guardians. “What do you think, general?”

  “I say help Israel,” he said. “Send the Guardians, Maria.”

  “But I’m not in charge, Gerald.”

  General Black made a gruff laugh. “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Your angelic team is falling apart. I don’t know why. I don’t want to know why.”

  “I understand, Gerald.”

  Black approached Maria, placed a big hand on each shoulder. “Take charge, Maria. I believe this battle is everyone’s. Patricia couldn’t wait for orders, so do what is right.”

  Maria gazed at the general. Calmness washed over her. Gerald’s brown eyes deepened, deeper than the oceans. Her stomach fluttered and for a brief moment she sensed Jehovah moving within him. “I will listen to you.”

  “I’ll organize what I can from here.”

  Maria studied Black’s eyes, they returned to normal. “Be safe, Gerald.”

  “Fight them, Maria.”

  Maria leaned forward and kissed General Black on his cheek. She turned and headed out the tent. An electric power surged through her. Every muscle twitched in her body. The gray skies above broke its mysterious hold over her soul. The bleakness forced upon her fractured and the results spread throughout her body like liquid starlight.

  “Tobias,” Maria said as she made her way across the campgrounds. “Gather the Guardians, Tobias. We are going to Israel. Our fight is not over.”

  Tobias stood from the rock he sat on with a polished shield in one hand. “Guardians, suit up.”

  A cheer exploded from amongst the troops. Guardians rushed towards the armory, donning their blessed metal onto their bodies. They retrieved swords, ash spears, helmets, and round silver shields decorated with various bosses. Tethered warhorses waited for them within a corral.

  Maria’s silver armor covered her body. With Joan and Daisy Lane gone, she and Tobias needed to take charge. The Guardians saddled their warhorses and armored the magnificent beasts.

  Maria sensed the Guardians fresh power, like a fire God set underneath them. Its energy spread through the camp, rampant and unstoppable, so much so even the civilian volunteers became infected with zeal.

  Maria seized her warhorse leather reins, slid her right foot into a silver stirrup and swung herself into the saddle. “Are you ready, Guardians?”

  “Yes,” said over a thousand voices.

  Tobias nudged his armored stallion up to hers. “Who are we up against?”

  Maria hunched her shoulders. “I’m not sure. The Black Army forces are scattered around the world. But we are headed to Israel.”

  Tobias turned back to the Guardians mounted and ready. “Well, who we fight doesn’t matter, Maria.”

  Maria grinned. “The fight matters,” she said.

  Tobias reached down and took a silver-tipped spear from a Marine who handed the weapon up to him. Tobias’s long brown hair covered his shoulders like a lion’s mane. “The fight does matter. Israel, who would have guessed?”

  Maria steadied her warhorse. Joan would approve of their actions. Daisy Lane’s opinion didn’t matter anymore. Too much divisiveness broke the team. General Black’s words struck true. He studied the angels from outside and their antics no doubt annoyed him. So much power exercised by angelic beings that acted inept.

  Maria cantered her steed ahead followed by fifteen hundred mounted warriors. The armored warhorses nodded and neighed, dust sifted up around their hooves. The Guardians excitement spread to their mounts.

  General Black emerged from the command tent joined by both officers and civilians. He waved his helmet into the air above his head as the cavalry eased forward. Dust thickened the area. The warhorses went from canter, to gallop, and into a full charge. Armor clanged, leather straps creaked as the Guardians rode up into the air.

  54

  Maria held firm to her warhorse leather reins. Beneath its powerful hooves unrolled a land close to death. The earth, once lush and green appeared as though suffering from drought. Carcasses scattered the hills, from desiccated Texas longhorns, to the smallest creatures that once breathed the air. The open grave stretched on for miles, its powerful stench causing the mounted Guardians to gag.

  Tobias frowned. “The horror, Maria,” he said.

  Maria stared at the carnage. She snapped her warhorse reins. The muscled beast surged ahead and the Guardians followed. Across the shattered continent they raced until the dark Pacific Ocean swelled into view.

  Black and violent, the vast ocean churned and birthed a stench laced with a fishy rot. Dead whales floated on the surface like malignant tumors, their slick skins a molted grayish-green. Fish in the millions speckled the waters somber surface. Death held its emaciated hand over the world and the warriors became witnesses to the grim results. From the South Pacific Islands to India’s vast jungles the gray carapace above sucked the life from all.

  They rode on, heartbroken yet undaunted by the meanness below. Wherever the Guardians crossed, land or sea, the same somber scene unfolded. They faced horror and death until Israel emerged in the distance.

  Tobias lifted his arm, his thick finger pointed. “Maria, a few miles ahead.”

  Maria squint her eyes against the sand whipped up by the air. “What, Tobias.”

  “Further west, towards the Sinai, a glint,” he said.

  “I’m not familiar with Israel.”

  “Follow me,” he said and turned his warhorse towards the place beyond Maria’s sight. They rode out over the desert like long forgotten warriors. Mountains and valleys swept pass the Guardians, ancient citadels, modern cities, and old villages dotted the hardened land beneath them. People paused as the Guardians dashed by. The airborne mounted warriors drew crowds in the hundreds across the country.

  Tobias smiled and pointed with his spear. “Below us, Maria. The gleam came from torch fires and metal.”

  The Guardians rode to the ground and pulled up their warhorses. The cavalry halted amongst a sandstorm, emerging from the dust cloud coated in sand. Before them stretched a plain covered with several thousand tents. Shouts struck the chilled air. People emerged from their tents. An area like a sunken football field lit by torches sat behind the tremendous camp.

  The clamorous throng surged ahead to face the mounted warriors who appeared like relics from an ancient past. Each person wore different clothes, from combat fatigues, suits, casual wear, and robes. Their shouts lifting in whoops and yells. Both Jewish and Muslim priests draped in traditional garbs forced themselves through the jubilant crowd and stopped before the armored warriors.

  Maria dismounted her warhorse. She eased towards the priests. Sand and gravel got between her toes. The grit and tiny rocks no longer bothered her. Hardness permeated her soul, forged from combat and strife. She stopped before the men and removed her dust caked helmet.

  “I am, Maria,” she said. “And behind me are the Guardians.”

  The priests and the thousands behind them fell to their knees, all except one who moved through the crowd. He stared at Maria with brown eyes close to insanity. Maria met eyes like those before, in Joan.

  General Isaiah Gold moved pass
the priests who remained on their knees. “My name is General Isaiah Gold,” he said. “You are the angels God sent to us.” He gave Tobias a quick nod.

  Maria smiled at the man, his eyes, filled with love for the people around him shone with a weird light induced by God. “Tell your people to stand, general.”

  General Gold turned back to the crowd. “Rise to your feet.” The crowd rose, their voices a low murmur. He faced Maria. “Will you help us?”

  “That is what the Guardians and I are here for.”

  General Gold blinked several times. He took a deep breath and clicked his tongue. “I must show you something. Please follow me.”

  Maria followed General Gold. Hands reached out and touched her in reverence. Fingers brushed her armor, black hair. Gentle hands stroked her arms and face. A woman’s voice drifted up into a beautiful song. Each note made Maria ashamed for the weakness she wallowed in hours ago. The people around her dug up strength from their souls, enough to hold back the despair and hate Satan tried to force upon them.

  She weaved ahead through the people until Isaiah halted at a steep drop. Before her sat a pit, long and wide like an American football field. Beneath her gaze sputtered torches and vats filled with liquid metal so hot the area glowed amber with warmth. Below her and in piles sat armor, shields, spears, and swords.

  Isaiah held up his arms. “This is the army Jehovah ordered me to form.”

  Maria licked her lips. She counted off thirty forges, old and weather beaten from a time written in the Bible. A musty centuries old aroma drifted up from the hole, joined by metal’s hot tang when heated to such high degrees.

  Isaiah climbed down a ladder into the pit. He landed on the soft ground, his arms wide with a jubilant smile spread across his face. “This is King David’s weapons forge.”

  The angel remained silent and climbed down into the armory pit. Over a thousand bodies worked in the forge amongst a thick heat. Metal rang against metal with a rhythmic clang and ping she found hypnotic. The workers seemed not to mind the heat. She witnessed furrowed brows, gritted teeth, and gazes focused on their work.

  Curious at the armor and swords quality, Maria went to a pile stacked with armor. She lifted up a cuirass and turned the metal over in her hands. The armor, simple and not anatomical as hers, came in two pieces. The torso and back with leather straps at the shoulders for easy slip on and straps along the sides enabling the wearer to fasten and secure the armor against their bodies.

  Maria nodded. A smile came to her face as she went to the swords. Once again she faced simplicity. Wooden handles and metal forged into sharpened blades. She lifted one from the pile and ran her fingers along its honed edge. The blade opened skin and drew blood. Good. She realized how silent the area became.

  The angel paused and the workers turned to her with expectant faces. “Very good job, General Gold.”

  The crowd cheered, some knelt with hands thrown above their heads. The fires within the pit seemed to grow brighter.

  Maria gazed up at the Guardians. All lined the forge’s steep edge, a gentle glow rose from behind them as the workers in the pit continued to cheer and dance. Tobias raised his spear and the crowd’s cheer redoubled.

  “The war will end here,” Isaiah said to Maria, his voice low and eyes glassy.

  Maria lifted the sword she held in her hand into the air. She expected everyone around her to face unimaginable horrors. Whatever came at them from the darkness, their hearts remained focused on victory.

  55

  Oni cantered his warhorse amongst the black armored formations, up one battalion and down another. Before them rose Heaven’s high walls, bright and ready to be torn down by hands built for war.

  The catapults sat arranged with huge boulders perched next to them. Wooden towers loomed above the formations, their operators eager to push the contraptions against the high walls packed with angels ready to fight.

  Oni inhaled the air thick with hate and sulfuric fumes deep into his lungs. Far above the army he spotted angels milling about on the wall. All armed with spears tipped with silver heads. Sunlight gleamed off their armor polished to an incredible brightness.

  The archangel grunted. A knot formed beneath his dead heart and above his stomach. He spotted a white horsehair plume peek above a murder hole, swaying in the breeze. Joan he concluded. And she would die, either by his hand or Satan’s. Each soldier understood the order. No one kills Joan or the archangels. Capture them and bring the host before Satan to decide their fates.

  Oni turned his warhorse away from the wall, gripping the reins tight. Heat suffused his body. He remained determined to kill Joan and those who broke their word and turned his family against him. Satan promised to rectify the problem. The black lord’s hate burned strong enough for the entire army, over a million Hell Force soldiers waited to kill.

  The archangel slogged his warhorse through the thick slop until he reached Satan’s command tent. He dismounted the abominable beast, and with a confident swagger entered through the guarded doorway. Within minutes he reached the war room. A large table sat at its center, upon the table, built to scale, perched the Eternal Kingdom, palace and all in an exact replica.

  He gazed at the other archangels armored in black and red Hell metal. Another figure hovered about the table with a drawn sword. He pointed the sword tip at several areas on the beautiful model. The dark haired figure, dressed in black imperial Roman armor, lifted a hand.

  “Oni, come over,” he said.

  Oni rested his hand on his sheathed sword hilt. The figure, seven foot tall, bronze skinned and muscular, resembled a Roman general fresh from an African campaign. The voice sounded familiar, deep and spiced with dark mirth.

  Oni approached. “Satan,” he said.

  “Call me Lucifer. I don’t go by that slave name anymore.” The archangels at the table laughed.

  “Oh,” Oni said. His gaze trailed along the strong jaw, the firm lips. Lucifer looked like this before the fall, handsome enough to make the angels in Heaven jealous.

  Lucifer flicked his gaze to the model. “Familiar?”

  Oni focused on Lucifer for a moment longer before shifting his eyes to the exquisite model. “Yes, the entire place is.”

  Seven golden gates fitted into a high wall surrounded the model. The city sat behind the wall, every shop and home rendered in detail from flowerpots to roads paved in gold bricks. Even Heaven’s garden with its fruit trees sat near the city. Sweat speckled plumbs, apples, and apricots dazzled Oni’s eyes. He wanted to reach out and squeeze a plum between his fingers to test the fruit authenticity. God’s palace sat on a hill made from actual rock.

  Oni leaned forward with mouth agape as he studied the palace pearl walls and open-air windows. He angled his head to take a better peek into the miniature throne room. Gold and silver graced his eyes. Several hundred Hell Force figurines in black armor filled the room. On the throne sat Lucifer, bronzed and muscular, an imperial air graced his face with chin up and eyes cast down upon those lesser beings beneath him.

  Oni moved in closer and focused his right eye through a window. Crow winged archangels surrounded two figurines shackled in irons. God and Jesus knelt before the high throne, their heads lifted in defiance. One figure made his mouth go dry. He jerked back from the scene, prepared to say a word.

  “Don’t,” Lucifer said. He tapped the sword blade against the First Gate, the sole entrance on one side of the kingdom’s four sided walls. The other walls held two gates each. “We will start the attack here.”

  Oni’s jaw muscles twitched and sweat gathered in his armpit hollows. His testicles ached something fearsome.

  “Yes, Oni.” Lucifer’s baritone voice filled his ears. “You will fuck your wife, for real this time.”

  Oni swallowed and licked his lips, a strong hand landed on his right shoulder. Baal smiled at him and Oni nodded in return. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

  Lucifer rested the sword blade on his shoulder. “Ten thousand soldiers will
follow me to Second Gate,” he said.

  Oni pushed his thoughts away from the wall, palace, and from Lucifer’s voice. Kimi’s face floated into view, round, soft and porcelain. He missed her tender lips and tiny body. Despite his attempt to breach the wall and harness his uncontrollable anger, he still wanted her. Jehovah brainwashed those who dwelled in Heaven. He would bring his wife and son back to reality.

  Lucifer did not fail in his promises. The black prince made him powerful and gave him victory over his enemies. The next battle would ensure Lucifer’s unrivaled dominance throughout eternity.

  “…and, Oni you will lead the first wave.”

  Oni blinked. Lucifer’s words knocked him back a little. He fell to one knee and bowed his head. “Thank you for the honor, Lucifer.”

  “You earned your rank, archangel. Let no one at this table tell you otherwise.” Lucifer swept his brown eyes over the archangel generals at the table who lowered their heads.

  Oni rose to his feet, no matter how many sacrifices he made, no such honor ever came from God. He stared at the model. The flesh between his legs hardened as he imagined the First Gate rendered to golden rubble. He envisioned Hell Force soldiers led by him storming the Eternal City to snatch victory from the enemy.

  Lucifer canted his head like an odd bird. A broad smile cracked his face, loaded with more teeth than necessary. He jammed the steel into the tiny palace. The palace shattered like a crystal bowl.

  “General Zhu.”

  General Zhu emerged from a corner, black armored like a Chinese soldier from the Tang Dynasty. His head, bald, dry, and cracked like the Gobi desert, bowed before Lucifer. “Yes, Lucifer?”

  Lucifer jerked his blade from the table. “Lead your Ghost Soldiers to Israel. Burn Jerusalem and kill them all. Kill every Jew, Christian, and Muslim who prays to that pimp hiding behind those high walls.”