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BOOK: 5 Onslaught
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36

 

Enlil and
Zeus break rank from their giant army, standing to either side of Nephil. Enlil
is dressed in red leathers, but the armor over his chest is fringed with black,
the preferred color of the Sumerian clan. He has a long red rectangular beard
held in place by beaded twine. His red hair is parted down the middle, braided
and held back by a ribbon I suspect is made from feeder skin. Long earrings dangle
from his ears.
All classic Sumerian styles.
He carries
a large sickle sword in each six-fingered hand. Zeus, also wearing mostly red,
reveals his Greco-Roman flair with a golden fringe that is basically bedazzled
with glowing crystals from the underworld. While his hair is the same blood-red
as Enlil’s, it is flowing and strangely clean looking for a Nephilim. Where
Enlil exudes military precision, Zeus carries himself like a nobleman. Even his
beard is trimmed. He carries a sword with a jagged blade. A thunderbolt, I
realize.

I
step toward the trio and find Em, Kainda, Mira and Kat walking with me. While
Nephil’s delegation has only three members, I don’t think they’ll consider the
four women a threat. Not only are they human, but the Nephilim are thousands of
years old and without a doubt, sexist. But all three look unhappy when Cronus
follows us. After all, Cronus is responsible for trapping the Nephilim in
Tartarus the first time and keeping Nephil contained there for so long. Though
they might not like it, the three god-demons are too proud to complain. They
would look weak in front of their subjects.

Luca,
I think.

What are you going to do?
the
little me
replies.

Put the shofar behind your back,
I tell him.
Slowly.
Hide it from view. But be ready.

For
what?

I’m not sure yet.

Done
, he thinks.

“You
have fought bravely,” Nephil says to me when I stop twenty feet away. “You have
inflicted casualties worthy of your hunter heritage, despite
your
...”
He touches his hair, but he’s talking about mine. “...condition. Ninnis would
be proud.”

He’s
trying to goad me into action. Draw me closer. If he does that, he could take
me while his army charged. If they attacked now, I could still escape. He must
know this. So he has to trap me, or convince me to surrender. But two can play
this game. He needs me alive, which is basically a get out of jail free card.

I
turn to Zeus. “Do you call it Thunderbolt?
The sword?”

He
smiles a toothy grin and says with a powerful voice, “It is a name that—”

Krakoom!
A lightning bolt snaps from the sky,
striking the ancient god-man. Smoldering, he falls to his knees, and then to
his face.

The
Nephilim horde erupts with laughter. They approve of this kind of
grandstanding.

Nephil,
on the other hand, looks at me the way a crocodile does a dangling hunk of
meat. He longs for this power of mine. It would make him unstoppable.
A true god among men.

Zeus
recovers from the lightning blast and pushes himself up with a groan that
becomes a roar. He lifts his jagged sword from the ground and prepares to throw
himself at me. But before the giant can lunge, a black tendril blocks his path.

“You
would not make it ten feet,” Nephil says. It’s not a threat from Nephil, but a
warning. He eyes me, and then Cronus. Zeus isn’t a match for either of us.

Zeus
sneers, but stands and retakes his place by Nephil’s side.

Nephil
moves a little closer, propelled by the dark tendrils. He stops when Cronus
tenses, ready to attack. “If we are done with the theater, Ull, I would like to
make you an offer.”

I
wait in silence.

“Your
life,” he says, and then he spreads his arms out toward my army.
“For theirs.”

“You
would spare them?” I ask, not believing it for a second. “You would spare the
human race?”

“The human race?
No,” he says. “But what little remains
of your army will be spared.
Your comrades.
Your friends.
And I dare say—” He glances at the four women
standing to my sides. “—your loved ones.”

“You’ll
make them hunters?” I ask.

“Naturally.”

“And
use them to hunt and kill humans around the world.”

He
shrugs.
“A likely scenario.
But
they
will live until the natural end of their days.”

Given
the fact that we’ve managed to save or kill the vast majority of Nephil’s
hunters, I think his offer is genuine. Until the global human genocide is
complete, the Nephilim will need hunters to go where they can’t.

I
look to Kainda and Em, finding uncompromising glares. I find the same from Kat
and Mira.

The
choice is obvious, but not.

You must trust me,
I think to them all.

I
see Kainda glance toward me, fighting not to show a reaction. But Nephil
notices her.

“Ahh,
dear daughter,” Nephil says.

“I
am
not
your daughter.” Kainda’s voice
is actually more intimidating than Nephil’s.

“He
loved you, you know,” Nephil says.
“Your father.”

Kainda
tenses.

“He
hid it well.
From everyone.
Even
you.
Sometimes himself.”
Nephil lowers himself
closer to the ground, making himself an easy target. “Have you ever wondered
what your life—

“Enough!”
I say. He knows that eventually, Kainda will attack, and if she does, I will be
drawn in with her. But it’s not necessary. I’m going to go willingly.

I
step forward. When Kainda walks with me, I turn to her and say, “You must stay.
Let me do this.”

“Solomon,”
she
says,
her voice uncommonly fearful. Her fear is
understandable. Not only am I her husband,
she is
also
keenly aware of what my sacrifice means. She will live, but as a hunter, broken
again in servitude to the Nephilim. She would rather die.

“Trust
me,” I say, and then, “I love you.”

“Forever,”
she says.

“Forever.”
She lets go of my hand and I walk five
paces closer to Nephil. “Let them live and you can take me.”

He
stares at me, no doubt believing I would fight to the last man.

“You
would sacrifice yourself for this lot?” Nephil says, sounding doubtful.

“Are
you trying to change my mind?” I ask, “
because
I could
be on the other side of the continent in less than an hour and we can do this
all over again in a few months.”

He
slides closer to me, within striking distance for sure. He stares into my eyes
for a moment, perhaps looking for betrayal. Instead, he finds something
unexpected.

Mercy.
Forgiveness.
Love.

He
settles to the ground and the darkness coils inside his body. We’re just two
men now, standing face-to-face. He speaks quietly so that only I can hear him.
“There was a time when I respected your kind. You’re capable of things my
brethren will never understand. And you, Ull, are the best of them. You remind
me of a man, Ziusudra. He led a human tribe, like yours, the last of his kind.
The world was nearly ours. The human race was no longer human.
And then, a flood.
Ziusudra’s tribe survived. Your kind was
spared.”

Nephil
turns his head toward the sky. “But the skies are clear and not even your power
is enough to drown us all.”

“But
together,” I say.

Nephil
smiles, revealing Ninnis’s remaining rotted teeth. “Together, we will remake
the world.”

I
sigh and say, “Just get it over wi—”

The
blackness explodes from Ninnis’s body and pierces mine like a thousand bee
stings. My body arches back and is lifted off the ground.

“The body!”
Nephil shouts. “Bring it to me.”

My
mind reels. My consciousness twists through my brain, experiencing one sense
and then another. For a moment, I can hear, but not see. Then I can smell, but
not feel. I am losing my body.

I
feel something in my mouth, soft and squishy, like old pudding. Then I suddenly
taste it and know exactly what it is.
Nephil’s body.
After consuming this small remnant of Nephil’s physical being, he will be able
to bond with me permanently. I thought the body would be lost after I vomited
it up the first time, but they have managed to save it all this time.

When
both my sense of taste and touch fade, it’s a mercy, but when a surge of energy
thunders through my body, I know that I’ve swallowed the flesh of Nephil once
more.

Wait,
I think to Luca, desperately hoping the message will be
received and sent to everyone else.

The
darkness snakes through me, filling my body with waves of nausea. My mind is
assaulted as Nephil’s consciousness spreads into the deepest recesses of my
mind.
It’s time
, I think.
He’s gone far enough. Now!
I shout out
with my mind, but the thought echoes back. Darkness surrounds me.

I
waited too long. Nephil has taken my body!

 

 

37

 

“Goodbye,
Ull,” Nephil says, and I feel him pushing on me, forcing me from my own mind
and into the oblivion that awaits Nephilim. I won’t die, I’ll simply be trapped
in this dark place for the rest of time, or until an asteroid destroys the
planet or the sun becomes a red giant and absorbs the Earth.

Before
I wink out of existence, I feel a building pressure. It’s not Nephil, it’s
opposing
Nephil.
Resisting
him.

And
it’s
not
me.

As
the pressure behind me builds, a searing pain ignites in my mind and I feel,
more than hear Nephil’s surprise.

Push him back, Solomon!

The
voice screams at me, focusing my thoughts as I focus on the name of the one
speaking to me.
Xin!

This
was his gift.

His
consciousness has been buried in my head, waiting for this moment, defending my
mind against the one who could take it.

Push him back, but do not expel him.

Then what?
I ask

Control him!

Bind him!

And then
—I start to ask, but the answer comes
to me.

As
the wall of darkness is pushed to the fringe of my mind, I feel my body again.
I can sense the world around me. I hear my own voice, screaming, but I also
hear Nephil, screaming through Ninnis. He’s connected to both of us!

Zeus
and Enlil look on. I doubt either knows what to expect from this bonding. They
have no idea that Nephil is being repelled.
Not
repelled
, I think,
contained
.

“Now Solomon!”
Cronus shouts, then I hear him scream
to his remaining Titans, “For the King!”

Through
foggy vision, I see Cronus charge past, sword drawn. He leaps at Zeus and with
one swing, lops the surprised giant’s head from his shoulders. His second swing
is parried by Enlil and the Nephilim horde rushes in, held at bay by twelve
Titans, hacking and slashing with a bravery that sets my mind to the task.

Luca
, I think,
the horn!

I
turn to find the small boy lifting the horn.

Over your head
, I tell him

He
holds it high.

As
I reach out to the elements, I feel Nephil grow stronger. He’s pushing Xin and
me back. But then, the wind obeys and explodes through the shofar with a force
beyond that of the amplified speaker system. The valley vibrates with its
power. The Nephilim army shrieks and wails. And then, all at once, the shofar
shatters,
the last of its sound echoing off the valley
walls.

Nephil’s
darkness tears out of me, retreating to Ninnis’s body. But he finds no refuge
there.

Ninnis...is
himself.

His
intense eyes lock onto mine and we come to an understanding. Ninnis twitches
and screams as Nephil fights for control. He falls to his knees, clutching his
chest. Tendrils of darkness squirm out of him, but are pulled back inside.

“I
have him, boy!” Ninnis shouts and then screams again. “I can’t hold him for
long.”

Ninnis’s
strength is beyond comprehension. The combined consciousnesses of Xin and I struggled
to repel the monster, but Ninnis is binding him on his own. Knowing what to do,
I walk to Ninnis, but before I reach him, I fall to my knees.
My stomach revolts, roiling.
Then I
vomit,
a single glob of coagulated purple blood, coated in bile splatters to the
ground.

Free
of Nephil’s body, my strength returns. As it does, my sense of Xin’s presence
fades.
I will see you again, brother,
he thinks, and then he’s gone.
Again.
But there’s no
time to mourn the brief return and loss of Xin. I quickly focus on the globe of
flesh below my face, removing the fluid from it with a thought. With the body
of Nephil reduced to dust, I crawl to Ninnis and wrap my arms over his back,
lending my strength to his. The darkness cuts through us both now, and together
we fight.

But not alone.

I
feel a hand on my back.
Then another.
I look up and
find Kat and Mira supporting me. Ninnis raises his head, too, feeling the hands
on him as well. “Daughter!” he says, surprised to find Kainda’s head just
inches from his own.

“I’m
here, father,” she says, her words full of compassion.

Ninnis’s
lips tremble. When he looks the other way and finds Em, he sobs. “But—I killed
your father!”

“And
I forgive you,” Em says. She turns her eyes to me. “Do it.”

Finding
strength in the faithful resolve of these four women, my hope, faith, focus and
passion, I turn my thoughts to the Earth, to my larger body. I reach out,
further than ever before, for hundreds of miles, until I feel the deep dark
void that was the first behemoth’s home.

With
a scream of exertion from me, the ground beneath us opens up and swallows us
whole. We descend on a disk of stone and soil, rocketing downward at an angle
like we’re on a rollercoaster fashioned in hell. Strata of Antarktos flash past
in a blur as we descend through millennia of time, back toward the very
beginning of mankind, of Nephilim and this ancient conflict.

Nephil
reaches out, struggling to leave the confines of Ninnis’s body. One by one, we
shout in pain, feeling his dark touch. But Nephil finds a united front and a
cage of unwilling hosts.

And
then, we arrive. We drop through the cavern’s ceiling. It takes a supreme
effort to slow us before we strike the ground, but I manage. Nephil realizes
where we are before the others do and he explodes with fury, screaming, “No!”
through Ninnis.

The
darkness swirls out of Ninnis, striking Kainda, Kat, Mira and Em away. They
sprawl across the cavern floor.

The
tentacles quickly fade again, reeled in by Ninnis.
“Quickly,
Solomon!”
He looks over his shoulder to the gates of Tartarus, which
oddly enough, already lie open.

I
throw his arm around my shoulder and we hobble together toward the gates. As we
walk, Ninnis speaks through grinding teeth. “Solomon. I cannot thank you
enough. You have saved me.”

“And
now you, us,” I say. “We’re even.”

“Not
remotely,” he says, grunting in pain.
“My daughter.
You will care for her?”

“She
is my wife,” I tell him, and he manages a pain-filled laugh. He places his
forehead against mine and whispers, “Son.”

Despite
all of the horrible things Ninnis has done, all of the people he has killed and
the anguish he has caused, I find it in my heart to forgive him again.
“Father,” I whisper.

He
barks loudly, and I can’t tell if it’s a laugh or a sob, but it transforms into
a shout of pain.
“Gah!”

I’m
thrown away by a curtain of black.

Nephil
has taken control again. He turns to face me, just a foot away from the gaping
blackness of the open gate.

I
catch myself with a cushion of air.

Ninnis’s
eyes appear for a moment, filled with concern, not for entering the gate, but
that Nephil might yet escape.

I
summon a wind, throwing it at Ninnis. Black tendrils shoot out, embedding
themselves in the floor. Hurricane force winds slam into Nephil, but he
resists, rooted like some ancient tree. He’s shouting at me, but his words are
lost in the wind.

Unfortunately,
Nephil is fueled by rage, anger and hatred. Exhausted from the battle, and our
journey through the center of the Earth that would boggle Jules Verne, I am
growing weaker. Fast.

I
fall to my knees, urging the wind to grow stronger, but I can feel its force
ebbing along with my reserves. On my hands and knees, I can now hear Nephil
laughing, fully possessing Ninnis once more. I turn my head up and look at him.
I’m sickened by his smile, by the look of victory in his eyes.

So close,
I think,
we were so close.

Tears
roll down my cheeks.

The world is lost. Nephil has w—

A pair of arms slip
out of the darkness behind Nephil.
They’re human, but strong. Before Nephil can react, the arms wrap around
Ninnis’s throat and lock together in a perfect chokehold. The black tendrils
flare wildly, but they cannot assail their attacker. To do so would mean
passing through the gate!

The
darkness grips the cavern floor like an angry squid, but while Nephil is
spirit, Ninnis is human, and his beet-red face, now turning purple reveals a
desperate need for oxygen. As Ninnis’s eyes flutter, the tendrils lose their
power and one by one, they slide free from the rock.

Then,
all at once, Ninnis falls back and is yanked through the gates of Tartarus,
taking Nephil with him.

I
sit up, staring at the gates, unbelieving.
That’s
it? We’ve won?

I
look around, finding Em, Kainda, Mira and Kat, all climbing back to their feet,
staring at the gate with the same look of disbelief frozen on their faces.

Em
looks at me and laughs.

A
smile creeps onto my face despite the pain waging a war on my body.

“We
did it...” Mira says, sounding relieved.

When
I turn to Kainda, I’m surprised to find tears in her eyes. Then I remember that
is was Ninnis, her father, who ultimately saved us. Returned to his true self,
he became the man I always knew he was, and probably the man that Kainda always
wanted him to be.

It’s
Kat’s reaction that really catches me off guard. She walks toward the open
gates. Then she runs.

“Kat!”
I shout to her. She doesn’t know what
lies on the other side. She doesn’t—

She
shouts, and I flinch at the word. “Steve!” She shouts again, desperate.
“Steve!”

Just
as she’s about to dive through the gates, the arms emerge again, and then the
body they belong to. Kat shouts her husband’s name again and dives into his
arms,
nearly tackling them both back through the gates.

“Wright!”
I shout, and I’m on my feet and
running. When I reach the pair, I wrap my arms around them both. “You’re
alive!”

He
laughs and pats my shoulder. “I’m not easy to kill.”

“But
the hunters,” I say, remembering the dire situation we left him in.

“Were
only interested in you,” he says. “They left me to die, but I found my way
here, to the gates.”

“But
how did you open them?” I ask.

“I
didn’t,” he says.

“I
did,” says a booming voice from above. Cronus drops through the hole in the
ceiling, his wings unfurling to stop his fall.

“You’re
alive!” I say, surprised. “But Adoel—”

“—is
even more cryptic than I am,” he finishes with a grin. He turns to the gate and
finding no sign of Nephil, says, “You have done well, young King. The dark lord
Ophion was still connected to the warriors above when he left this world.”

“You
mean—”

He
nods. “His army is in ruin.” He steps toward the open gates, takes one and
closes it. “But your work as King has only begun. The lesser clans are
scattered, but living, as are those hiding among men. Battles await you in the
future, but mankind is saved.”

He
reaches for the second door and begins to close it, stepping toward the
darkness. It’s now that I notice there are no other Titans present.
“The other Titans?”
I ask.

“Fallen,”
he says. “I am the last.
The keeper of Tartarus.
Guardian of Ophion.”

“You
will be alone,” I say.

“Adoel
would say that one is never alone in paradise,” he says. “But I will have
company.”

Ninnis,
I think. “Before you go,” I say,
reaching into a pouch attached to my belt. I pull out my very used, first
edition copy of The Pilgrim’s Progress, and hand it to Cronus.
“For Ninnis.
It will help.”

He
takes the book, offers a nod, and says, “Farewell, young King. Peace
be
with you.” And then he slides into the darkness of the
gate and closes the giant door behind him.

Kainda,
Em and Mira gather around Wright, Kat and me.

Mira
gives Wright a hug and says, “Glad you’re alive, boy scout.”

“Likewise,”
he says,
then
nods to Kainda and Em. “Thank you for
taking care of my wife.” He kisses Kat’s forehead. “I’m not exactly an expert
on this, but I think we should get topside before we miss the next year.”

He’s
right. If we stay much longer, the day above will end before our return.

I
lead them to the circle of earth upon which we descended into the depths. With
everyone standing atop the stone, I look at each of them—Em, Kat and Mira, my
sisters, Wright, my brother, and Kainda my wife.
My family.
My dear ones.
I want to say something, but I’m at a
loss for words.

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