After the Fall (2 page)

“He’s alive.”

“What is it?” Chalmers whispered.

Sammy Brown laughed.

“What does it bloody look like? Have you never seen an angel before?”

Chalmers turned angrily on Sammy, and it might have come to blows if a frightened call hadn’t come from outside.

“We’ve got incoming.”

~-o0O0o-~

  Rogers arrived at the door just as McLeod and Scott started firing. The noise of the automatic weapons was deafening after the quiet that had gone before. Muzzle flares lit up the outside of the building like disco strobes.

At first he couldn’t see their targets, then something moved across the face of the moon -- something large, with eagle’s wings. More dark shadows stood up on the ridge above the goat track -- shadows with hunched backs.

“Down,” Scott shouted, and Rogers ducked. He felt a
whoosh
of air and heard the
thwup
of wings just over his head.

Scott screamed, just once.

Rogers looked up just in time to see the man get lifted in the air and swept away. Automatic fire came from a distance seconds later then all went quiet.

“No!” McLeod shouted and started to fire indiscriminately at the shadows on the ridge above. As one the shapes unfurled their wings and took to the air. They swooped down the valley wall, wings bent back in attack position.

“Back inside,” Rogers shouted. He had to grab McLeod and drag him to the door.

They didn’t quite make it.

Chalmers and Sammy Brown were inside, but just as Rogers got McLeod to the door one of the black shapes swooped towards them and hovered, like a kestrel seeking prey, just feet above them.  The sound of sarcastic laughter echoed around the walls of the building.

“
You
are the defenders? This should not take long.”

The winged figure looked like a photographic image of the angel lying inside. The body was sleek and black, shimmering like oil on water. The wings were darker still, and beat slowly in a steady
thwup
. It brought sand and dust up from the ground such that Rogers had to cover his mouth and nose before he could breathe.

Red eyes stared from a black hole where the face should be and the head was surrounded by a halo of jet-black tousled hair that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the head of a rock star.

McLeod raised his gun.

The
demon
laughed. It raised an arm and a long-sword appeared in its hand, first silver, then red as flame ran along its length.

“Let me show you a
real
weapon boy,” the demon said. It drew back the sword for a strike.

Rogers joined McLeod in sending a volley of rounds into the demon’s face. The head blew apart like a stone hit by a heavy hammer. There was no blood, but there was a satisfying
thud
as the body crashed to the ground in a tangle of broken wings and feathers.

McLeod spat on the corpse.

“You were saying?”

“Incoming,” a call came from the doorway. A burst of fire flew close to Rogers’ ear as another demon swept towards them.  The bullets drew a line across its chest and it veered away in a straggling flight, lost in darkness in seconds.

Everything went quiet again. Rogers scanned the valley but there was no sign of movement, and no darker shapes on the skyline.

“What the hell
is
this Sarge?” McLeod said, kicking at the corpse at his feet. “Some kind of
Black Ops
bollocks?”

Rogers was thinking about the blazing sword.

Black ops might be the right words for it.

“I don’t know Jock,” he said. “But I know a man who might.”

He left McLeod on guard and went back inside.

He had an angel to question.

~-o0O0o-~

The winged figure still lay in the same place on the floor. Chalmers couldn’t take his eyes off it. Indeed, he seemed almost hypnotized until Rogers shook his shoulder.

“Take inventory,” Rogers said. “Then go and spell McLeod. And stay sharp. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here… but we know that we can kill them. That’s enough to be going on with.”

Chalmers left with one last look at the angel.

Sammy came over and stood by Rogers’ side.

“He hasn’t moved Sarge,” the smaller man said. “But he’s alive all right.”

Rogers bent to check the extent of the head wound. One of the angel’s hands came up and grabbed at Rogers’ wrist – and suddenly Rogers was once more
somewhere else.
  A voice intoned, as if reciting from a book. At the same time pictures ran in front of Rogers, like a cinema screen in his mind.

“And the Lord sent a horseman, a pale rider, and his name was Death. And his skin shone silver and his hair spread behind him in a great cape. But his eyes were like pits of blackness in the depths of space, and no smile touched his features.

“And the horseman carried with him the key to the gates of life and death. And the gate was locked and death came forth in its blackness and spread across the face of the earth. And where it passed the sons of Adam fell before it, and the cities lay quiet and the noise of the works of the Adamities was heard no more.

“And there came a second rider, and his name was Darkness. And he threw a great cape over the burning orb of the sun. And the heat went out of it then, and when the cape was lifted there was only the sky and the stars.

“There was a chorus in the heavens as of the chant of a great throng, and the Lord called for his first made to come forth.

“And the earth trembled and shook, and the works of the Adamities fell into its cracks and crevices. And there was a great churning and crackling on the face of the earth, and a wind arose, a wind that scoured and cleansed wherever it passed. And when the wind fell all traces of the Adamities had gone.

“And the Lord called the host of angels to sit by his right hand.

“And when they were standing before the Lord the great ledger was brought forth, in which all their deeds were etched forever in the fabric of time. And each was judged, and each repented of the deeds of life.

“And there came a third horseman, who was called Repentance, and he carried a flaming sword. And his likeness was also as of an angel. And he called from under the ground the old adversary, the great serpent. And the serpent came, in fire and in thunder. And there on the dust under the stars they fought, as ages passed, under the sight of the Lord.

“Great was the battle, and great was the blood spilled. And the serpent sprouted many heads, and each was struck from its body by the force of the sword of Repentance. And where the heads fell there sprung from the earth imps and demons that harried and tore at the flanks of the great horse, even as they were dashed under the black iron of its hooves.

“And the serpent it was who weakened first, and fell to dust in defeat, pierced by the sword of Repentance. And the Lord shackled his old foe, binding him to the ground until such time as the last judgment be called.

“And so that all men would know of it, he placed a tree atop the place where the serpent dwelt, and sent a warrior to guard him, lest he be wakened before his time.”

Rogers came out of it slowly. He realized he was staring into a pair of golden eyes.

“You are the guardian?” Rogers whispered.

The angel nodded.

His eyes rolled up in his sockets and he fell back into his stupor.

“Are you OK Sarge?” Sammy said from behind him.

“I may never be OK again,” Rogers replied. “But I think I’ve got an idea as to why we’re here.”

~-o0O0o-~

He led Sammy outside to join the others and told them of the vision the angel had sent.

“Begging your pardon Sarge,” McLeod said. “But that’s just bollocks. There’s no such thing as angels and demons. And I’m not about to start taking the word of a big sky fairy.”

Rogers kicked at the body that still lay outside the hut.

“Have you had a look at that thing we killed Jock? What does it
look
like to you?”

He bent and spread out one of the black wings, pointing at where it was joined to huge muscles on the demon’s back.

“Does this look natural to you?”

“Pish and bollocks,” the Scotsman replied, but he wouldn’t look Rogers in the eye.

“So what are you saying?” Chalmers asked. “We’ve been brought here as some kind of
warriors for God
to stop some demons that want to get Satan out of Hell?”

Rogers managed a laugh.

“Well, if you put it like that…”

McLeod spat on the corpse below them.

“Fucking
Black Ops
bollocks,” he said. “That’s all this is.”

Sammy Brown looked down, then back at Rogers.

“Jock’s got a point Sarge. At least
Black Ops
is believable.”

“It’s believable you want is it? How long is it since our crash -- four hours maybe? In case you haven’t noticed, the moon is still in the same spot is was when we first saw it. I don’t think there’ll be a dawn any time soon.”

He turned to McLeod.

“And how does a
Black Ops
unit make a monster like the one you blew the head off -- one that didn’t bleed? Can
Black Ops
do that?
Can they conjure up a blazing sword out of nowhere?”

“Don’t talk shite Sarge,” McLeod said, but it was more of a plea this time, and yet again he wouldn’t look Rogers in the eye.

Chalmers took his turn in looking down at the corpse.

“I’ve never been one for all that holy-Joe stuff,” he said. “It
must
be some kind of
Black Ops
mind games. We’re probably all strapped into a virtual reality machine somewhere.”

Rogers looked over the man’s shoulder and laughed.

“In that case, get your game face on. We’ve got incoming again.”

The now familiar shadows stood on the western ridge of the valley – and Rogers lost count at twelve.

“Get inside,” he shouted. “I hope you found something useful in that inventory Chalmers. We’re going to need it.

They got inside just in time. The demons rose with wings splaying, and as one launched down into the valley.

~-o0O0o-~

They took a window each, one in each quadrant of the room.

“Here they come,” Chalmers shouted. He had the West window, directly facing the slope where the demons had been waiting. He shot off a volley, the noise deafening in the confines of the room.

Rogers found himself reminded of childhood summers on the moorland shooting grouse. But these were no easy pickings. The demons were black targets against a black sky, and they swooped as fast as any bird of prey he had ever seen. He quickly realized that they weren’t going to do much damage until they could get the things on the ground.

“Save your ammo,” Rogers shouted.

Sammy Brown laughed, and Rogers was dismayed to hear a touch of hysteria in it.

“Aye. Wait until you see the whites of their eyes.”

McLeod turned away from the window he’d chosen to defend on the North side.

“So what’s the plan Sarge?”

Rogers laughed.

“Don’t get dead.”

Then there was no more time for talk. Something heavy hit the roof above them, sending dust down onto their heads. Rogers had a quick look around. There did not seem to be any access from the room they were in. And he had no time to worry about what might be up there, for three demons had landed less than ten yards away and were advancing towards him. He sent a volley into the nearest and saw the bullets trace a line across its chest and blow feathers in a flurry from its left wing. It barely slowed.

Head shot. Go for the head.

The red guidance laser targeted the black void just beneath the red eyes and Rodgers sent a volley that blew the head apart in less than a heartbeat. The wings beat, just once, then the headless body fell to the ground.

The sound of automatic weapons rang all around the round, interspersed with the shouts of men lost in a fighting fury. The air smelled burnt and dead.

By the time Rogers swung his weapon to the second demon they were almost within reaching distance of his window. He was surprised when they veered away to his right just as he attempted to target them.

The door. They’re going for the door.

Chalmers had also spotted it. He trained his weapon on the doorway just as the door was pushed open forcibly. Muzzle-flash lit up the room.

“Fire in the hold,” someone shouted, and before Rogers had time to react he was thrown to the ground by the blast from a stun grenade. The light stayed behind his eyelids for long seconds. When his head cleared he saw that the doorway had been reduced to little more than a smoking hole. Two dead demons lay blocking the entrance, and burning feathers floated in the air.