This Present Darkness (76 page)

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Authors: Frank Peretti

BOOK: This Present Darkness
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TAL HAD SEEN
enough. He shouted the order to Guilo, “Go in!” and then soared out of the building to signal for more troops.

Smoke and red tar were pouring from Rafar’s side, but his rage spelled certain doom for the rebellious Lucius. The light of a thousand angels beamed in through the windows. They would be in the room in an instant, but that was all the time Rafar needed. He whipped his plank-sized sword in vicious circles over his head. He brought it down
in blow after blow upon Lucius as the defiant demon’s little sword parried every blow with a loud clang and a shower of sparks.

The roar of angels’ wings outside grew louder, louder. The floors and walls rumbled with the sound.

Rafar let out a roar and brought the blade straight down. Lucius blocked the blow, but collapsed under the power of it. The blade ripped through the air in a flat circle and caught Lucius under the arm. The arm went spinning into space, and Lucius cried out. The blade came down again, passed straight through Lucius’s head, shoulders, torso. The air filled with boiling red smoke.

Lucius was gone.

“Kill the girl!” Rafar shouted to Madeline.

Madeline drew out a horrible, crooked knife. She placed it gently in Sandy’s hand. “These chains are the chains of life; they are a prison of evil, of the lying mind, of illusion! Free your true self! Join me!”

 

SHAWN HAD
a knife ready. He placed it in the entranced Sandy’s hand.

 

RAFAR STAGGERED THROUGH
a wall just as the light of a million suns exploded into the room with a deafening thunder of wings and the warcries of the Heavenly Host.

Many demons tried to flee, but were instantly disintegrated by slashing swords. The whole room was one huge, bombastic, brilliant blur. The roar of the wings drowned out every sound except the screams of falling spirits.

 

KASEPH LEAPED FROM
his chair and fell across the table. The regents and lawyers shied away and pressed against the wall. Some headed for the room’s other door.

Hank, Susan, and Kevin watched from a safe distance. They knew what was happening.

Kaseph’s face seemed numb with death and his mouth hung open as the most hideous scream came out of him.

The Strongman was face-to-face with the General. His demons were gone, washed away by an overwhelming tide of angels that were still roaring through the room like an avalanche. The General’s sword moved faster than the ponderous Strongman could even anticipate. The Strongman fought back, screaming, slashing, swinging. The General just kept coming at him.

 

MARSHALL WAS OUT
in the hall, listening for any disturbance. He thought he heard a commotion from down the hall.

 

SANDY STILL HELD
that knife, but now Madeline was hesitating and looking around frantically. The chains still held Sandy tightly, an iron cocoon.

Guilo could see the chains wrapped tightly around her, the horrible demonic bondage they had used to enslave her.

“No more!” he shouted.

He raised his sword high above his head and brought it down, trailing a wide ribbon of light. The tip passed through the many windings of those chains like a series of small explosions. The chains burst outward and away from her, writhing like severed snakes.

Guilo’s big fist clamped onto the fleeing Madeline’s grisly neck. He jerked her backward, spun her around, and hacked her into vanishing particles.

Sandy felt herself spinning, then rushing upward as if she were a rocket in an elevator shaft. Sounds began to register on her ears. She could feel her physical body again. Light registered on her retinas. She opened her eyes. A knife fell from her hands.

The room was in chaos. People were screaming, running back and forth, trying to calm each other down, fighting, arguing, trying to escape from the room; several men were wrestling Alf Brummel to the floor. There was a haze of blue smoke and a strong smell like fireworks.

Professor Langstrat was lying on the floor, with several people huddled over her. There was blood!

Someone grabbed her. Not again! She looked to see Shawn holding her arm. He was trying to comfort her, trying to keep her in her chair.

The monster! The deceiver! The liar!

“Let me go!” she screamed at him, but he wouldn’t let go.

She hit him in the face, then pulled away from him; she leaped to her feet and ran for the door, bumping into several people and stepping on some others. He went after her, calling her name.

She burst through the door and stumbled out into the hall. From somewhere down the hall she heard a familiar voice shouting her name. She screamed and ran for that voice.

Shawn went after Sandy. He had to contain this woman before all control was lost.

What! Before him, filling the entire hallway with fiery wings, stood the most frightening being he had ever seen, holding a terrible flaming sword right at his heart. Shawn braked to a stop, his shoes skidding on the floor.

Marshall Hogan appeared suddenly, running right through that being. A huge fist slammed into Shawn’s jaw, and the whole matter was settled.

“C’mon, Sandy,” Marshall said, “we’ll take the stairs!”

 

RAFAR, SOMEWHERE INSIDE
that shaking, besieged building, knew he had to get out. He tried to get his wings to stir. They only quivered. He had to build up the strength. He could not be defeated in the presence of these petty warriors; he would not go to the abyss!

He sank to one knee, his hand holding his oozing side, and let his rage grow inside him. Tal! This was all Tal’s doing! No, clever captain, you’ll not gain your victory this way!

The yellow eyes burned with new fire. He tried again. This time his wings roused themselves and went into a blurred rushing. Rafar gripped his sword tightly and turned his eyes skyward. The wings surged with power and began to lift him up through the building, faster and faster, until he soared up through the roof and into the open air … and found himself face to face with the very captain he had taunted and challenged time and again.

All around them the battle raged; demons—and Rafar’s great victory—fell like smoking, burning rain from the sky. But for one very short moment of awe and mutual horror, Tal and Rafar remained frozen.

They had met at last! And each could not help but be numbed by the memories he had of the other. Neither remembered the other looking so fierce.

And neither could be entirely sure of winning this contest.

Rafar shot sideways, and Tal braced himself for a blow, but—Rafar was fleeing! He dashed away across the sky like a bleeding bird, trailing a stream of ooze and vapor.

Tal went after him, wings rushing, dashing this way and that through falling demons and charging angels, looking far ahead through the wild flurry of the battle clashing and thundering all around. There! He spotted the demon warlord dipping down toward the town. He would be hard to find in that maze of buildings, streets, and alleys. Tal quickened his speed and closed the distance. Rafar must have seen him coming up from behind; the evil prince shot ahead with a surprising burst of speed and then dropped suddenly and sharply toward an office building.

Tal saw him disappear through the roof of that building and dove after him. The black tar roof came at him, growing in an instant from the size of a postage stamp to more than the eye could see. Tal plunged through it.

Roof, room, floor, room, then pull up, then down a hall, through a wall, up again, turn back, follow that smoke, through an office, follow up a wall, dip through a floor, rush along, the passing walls slap, slap, slapping the eyes and rushing past like speeding freight cars.

A smoking black missile followed by a flaming comet roared down the hall, down through several floors, back up again, right through the office and over all the desks, up through the ceiling panels, up through the roof and out into the open sky again.

Rafar was soaring, dashing, looping, zigzagging through falling demons, doubling back, ducking down side streets, but Tal stayed right on his tail and retraced his every turn perfectly.

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