Prometheus and the Dragon (Atlas and the Winds Book 2) (44 page)

“The Army of the Holy Right is beginning to move. They are surrounding us and I expect they will begin attacking as soon as they have completed enclosing our perimeter,” she said.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” Doug said, checking his pistol. “So much for God giving us twenty-four hours in that revelation of his.”

“That’s what you get when you poke at them with a stick,” Tom said. “We figured that one out a long time ago.”

“So why’d you poke at us?” Doug asked, watching the mono-carbon door slide into place behind them.

“That’s when we figured it out,” he said, grinning. “How long till they’re ready to make their move?”

“Ten to twelve minutes,” Mica said. “I plan to hold them off as long as possible with the gravity laser turrets, but there are several areas where terrain may allow them to approach to unacceptable proximity.”

“How close is that?” he asked.

“1,000 yards,” Mica said. “That is the maximum range of any of the weapons they have used in any of their previous assaults. The exception was the chemical weaponry used at Vandenberg. However, those would have limited effect because I could deflect drone aircraft before they breached our security.”

“What are the odds they’re going to pull a Colton?” Shapiro said.

“Impossible to predict,” she said. “They have demonstrated a great deal of strategic variation from one attack to another, however at this time I have detected no evidence of any technology that may be threatening.”

“Should I point out Attila the Hun conquered most of the world relying on nothing more than superior numbers and excellent motivational skills?” Doug said.

“A valid point,” Mica said. “And they have both of those assets.”

***

Outside Stormhaven:

“They have to know we’re coming,” Erik Michaels said, standing on the roof of the semi-trailer beside the Reverend.

“Their arrogance deceives them,” he said calmly. This was the first battle he’d overseen personally, and he was relishing the moment. His pleasure almost sinful in its intensity.

“We’ve got the pit dug, Commander,” a small man called up to the roof. “What do you want us to do with it?”

“Move the satellite truck into it,” Erik said. “We need just the dish to stick out.”

“Yes sir,” he said, hesitating like he had something else to say.

“What is it? Can’t you see the Reverend is busy?” he asked, his displeasure raining down on the man.

“Sorry sir, but we didn’t know we’d need to put the truck in it, sir. We didn’t build a ramp,” he said, looking embarrassed.

“You’ve got ten thousand people still standing around out here. The Egyptians built the pyramids with less than that. Put your backs into it.” He shook his head as the man scurried off.

“What did he want?” Somerset asked, glancing over for an instant.

“To have someone think for him,” Erik said. He looked at his watch and smiled. “It’s time.”

All around the circumference of Stormhaven a scream erupted and the ground shook, as a hundred thousand people threw themselves at the fences in a single instant. It was a more powerful experience than any the Reverend had ever experienced, except perhaps for being struck by lightning. He watched them run headlong toward the community, charging like warriors from some ancient Roman battle. Glorying in their sheer power.

Then the front row of bodies collapsed without warning, like a giant invisible mower had plowed through them. All the way around, in a huge sweeping arc, his people fell. Those behind ran forward and were in turn mowed down again, piling bodies on top of bodies like a wave crashing into a rocky shore. They rebounded, regained their momentum, and surged forward again. This time they dropped slightly behind the first row in a concentric ring.

Within a half-hour, the hoard had been felled. Except for a few hundred that had been sheltered from the demonic weapons of the Devil’s Stronghold. These few clusters of people stood, staring out across the bodies around them, bewildered and fearing to move.

Nathaniel Sommerset felt himself deflate as his people fell. Surely evil would not be allowed to triumph so easily. God would not allow His people to be rendered unto dust. They had together stood against the sinners, and in His name had been victorious. As long as you didn’t include Vandenberg.

“Please God, do not let us be defeated.” He fell to his knees and screamed his prayer to the heavens above. “Evil cannot go unchallenged! Raise the righteous dead before You and let them carry Your holy crusade to the gates of Hell itself. Bring forth—“

“Uh, Reverend,” Erik said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. He was pointing out to where the fallen were indeed rising. Truly, thousands of them stood up, and began to slowly walk off the field.

***

Stormhaven:

“That went well,” Daryl said, standing beside Tom and Doug in the Communications Center. The window had been replaced by the largest single piece of transparent mono-carbon sheeting they’d produced. They still felt terribly overexposed until Mica grayed out the crystal film and blocked the view.

“I am estimating our defenses created a minimum of casualties,” Mica said. “At this point over ninety percent of the attackers have withdrawn.”

“Cole would be proud,” Daryl said, a bit wistfully.

“If ninety percent survived, why are you letting them get away?” Shapiro asked. “They’ll be back again as soon as they lick their wounds.”

“If they have paid attention, they have also discovered our blind spots,” Mica said. “There were 367 people out of reach when I initiated our defense. Many of them were untouched throughout the engagement.”

“How long do you think it will take them to get their feces re-collated to try again?” Shapiro said.

“Probably not before nightfall,” Tom said. “Hopefully it’ll give us some time to deploy the minies to cover the blind spots.”

“I recommend we all try to catch some shut-eye while we can gentlemen,” Dave said, surprising them by appearing out of nowhere.

“When did you get in?” Tom asked. “I thought you were at Sentinel?”

“I was,” he said smiling. “But me and a few of the boys thought we’d crash your party here.”

“Hey, I think I resent that,” Sophie said, coming through the door behind him and elbowing him in the ribs. She still looked a little shell shocked after Glen’s death, but it was obvious she was looking for a fight.

“We brought the
Raphael
and the
Draco
along with a hundred Flight Infantry,” he said.

“All five armored carriers, two more heavy minies, and a hundred flying fighters,” Daryl said. “I think those guys out there better go get some help.”

“Shut up,” Tom and Douglas said in unison.

***

Mount Weather, Virginia:

“Of course I don’t mind,” John Herman said, sitting behind the desk Sylvia had used during her exile to the Mountain.

“Thank you John,” she said. “I’ve been the bearer of bad news for so long that I’d like a chance to say something good for a change.”

“When will they sign it?” he asked, “I’d like to be able to see the ceremony if I can.”

“Dick said they’re planning on doing it around 9:00 AM Eastern Time tomorrow,” she said.

“Minus five hours,” he said, his voice flat, dead calm.

“Yeah I know,” she said. “I wish they could have done it today so we could have put out the news already.”

“Do you think it will make a difference?” he said. “Europe’s almost dead by now, and I doubt anyone’s going to be spending their last night on planet Earth watching the news.”

“After my address tonight,” she said, “I’m planning on curling up in front of the TV with Janice, eating as many hot fudge sundaes as I can, while we watch a bunch of old fashioned romantic comedies.”

“Look, you can do what you want,” he said, showing the weight of the emotion he felt, “but why are you insisting on going down with the ship? You don’t have to stay there. There’s room here.”

“I know that John, but I’ve made my decision,” she said. “Two-thirds of the American public are riding it out at home. What kind of leader would I be if I ran and hid?”

“Thanks Sylvia, that says a lot,” he said, looking hurt.

“I led us into this, you have to lead us out. There’s a big difference John and you know it. You have to survive.”

“And so do you,” he said. “Please Sylvia, we’ll need your experience now more than ever. Do not do this out of some misguided sense of guilt.”

“It’s not guilt,” she said, anger flashing in her eyes. “It’s responsibility. I am not discussing this again.”

He took a deep breath and let it out, hissing like the air was leaking out of his argument for the last time. “What if I made it a Presidential Order?” he said, his voice almost lost to him.

“Until 2:16 PM tomorrow, you’re not the President,” she said, smiling and wagging a finger at him. “Nice try.”

***

Outside Stormhaven:

“I’m sorry,” Erik confessed, as the recently resurrected drifted back into camp, clouds of confusion still evident on their faces. “I’ve always had doubts about this whole thing, but seeing a miracle like this with my own eyes ...” He stopped, tears rolling down his cheeks. He’d never before understood what it meant to be born again.

“I knew all along you had these issues with the Lord,” Reverend Sommerset said. “What was important was that He had faith in you.” He didn’t dare let on that his own belief was almost as overwhelmed as his commander’s. To witness the awesome power of the Divine is not something that the human psyche is willing to accept. Regardless of how prepared a person thought they were.

“Thank you God, for having faith in me,” Erik said, shaking and raising his hands toward the sky. “I will never doubt Your power again.”

Nathaniel set his hand on Erik’s chest and smiled. “He hears your heart and knows. He wants us to use this second chance He’s given us wisely, and to not cast away in vain the lives of those He has lifted. He will show you the weakness in Satan’s stronghold and he commands that you reap the sinners’ souls in His divine name. They will be cast down before you, as the mighty Satan himself was cast down from Heaven. He has told me these things at this very minute. And I bless you and beseech you to do them in God’s holy name. Amen”

Erik fell to his knees and then collapsed forward, shaking with the strength of his new found faith coursing through him. He knew he was invincible, that no power of evil could stand before him. He rolled back and forth, overcome with the presence he felt. All around the roof of the semi-trailer, the hands of ten thousand risen souls reached up to touch him. To feel the awesome power of being one of the chosen.

It was a miracle. As real as the one that had so recently brought the dead back to life.

***

Bridge of The Grail, Low Earth Orbit:

Cardinal Leonardo Santori sat alone on the bridge of
The Grail,
trying to make sense of what had happened. Seven hours ago they’d been sitting on the Earth, full of faith that they were doing God’s work in preserving the Holy Scriptures. Now he knew the images he had seen of hell, had already been made manifest.

It had started on the lower deck, with a priest who had been called from Aviano. Within an hour it had spread to almost everyone in the ship. The crew had been taken, the pilot, the entire College, and even the Holy See himself. Only he had been spared the horrific death.

At first he’d expected to fall like the others, but as he helped with the sick and dying, he never once bled. He had been covered in blood, but not a single drop had been from him. He had been spared the death itself, but he had been cursed with the horror of it. Every single instant would haunt him for eternity.

Especially the moment when the Pontiff, with his dying breath, had blessed him as the One.

That had been two hours ago. The ship had been on course to rendezvous with the
Marian Destiny,
and had flown itself. Now he sat, staring at the controls trying to figure out how to fly a ship without even an idea of how to turn the radio on to ask for help. Through the windows he could see the huge station that had been launched earlier, its inflatable habitats looking like pale blue grapes floating in a sea of blackness. It was a beautiful sight. But he had no room left in his heart for joy.

“
Grail,
this is the
Marian Destiny,”
a voice filled the bridge. “You are no longer on the correct approach trajectory. Do you copy?”

He frantically looked across the console, wiping smears of blood from the instruments with his cuff. Nothing looked like a radio. There was no microphone hanging from a hook. No headset he could find. Nothing.

“Do you copy
Grail?”
the voice from the
Marian
asked again.