Tribulation (32 page)

Lower East Side

“…
and in every sort
of evil that deceives those who are perishing. They perish because
they refused to love the truth and so be saved.”
2 Thessalonians
2:10

S
am woke with a start in an unfamiliar setting. He was
lying on a dirty mattress in a darkened room, empty save for
himself and some storage shelves filled with unrecognizable
objects. He was naked from the waist up. His swords and pack were
nowhere to be seen – in itself a disturbing sign. Outside, it was
daylight. The single window in the room, covered by an old sheet,
allowed only the most diffuse light through. A solid wooden door
marked the only other exit from the room.

He didn’t
bother to try and sit up. Experience had taught him that that was a
bad idea after a bad injury. But then he remembered what had
happened and sat up anyway.

Yeth. Where was
his Hellhound?

The motion
caused a wave of nausea to crash over him. He sank back down, both
hands covering his eyes. Without doubt, the wounds he had sustained
were bad. He must have lost a lot of blood too. He could feel the
injuries knitting together though. Ever so slowly. His side where
the Cambion had stabbed him was heavily bandaged. Even so, there
was a dark stain of blood on it. It must be bad if he was still
bleeding. Some of his other injuries were bandaged up as well.
Basically, he was a mess, but he didn’t have time to feel sorry for
himself. He desperately wanted to see Yeth or at the very least,
find out if he was ok.

Sam’s head was
pounding, making it all but impossible to use his demonic senses.
He had no idea where he was or who was around. For all he knew,
there were a few thousand demons directly outside the door.

He was about to
force himself to his feet when the door opened. A fatigue-clad
figure entered. Vaguely, Sam realized this figure was female. He
didn’t bother moving. It she wanted him dead, he would’ve been by
now. So exhausted and befuddled he was that it wasn’t until she
sank down on the mattress did he realize who it was. He tried to
sit up but gave up in exhaustion.

A genuine smile
flickered across Grace’s face. It lasted for a moment and then it
was gone. “How do you feel, Sam?” she asked. The dimness in the
room somehow contrived to highlight the scars on her face, a
constant reminder of his failure.

“Weak,” he
said, the words barely audible.

“Not
surprising. It was touch and go there for a moment. Thought you
weren’t going to make it.”

Sam thought he
could detect some feeling there but it was hard to tell with Grace
these days. It was just nice to have a polite conversation with her
for a change.

“Where’s Yeth?
Where’s my Hellhound?” he managed to croak.

Grace shook her
head. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “All I know is that it went
back in the tunnel. I think I heard sounds of fighting but it was
hard to tell over the gunfire.”

So Grace
referred to his Hellhound as an it, refusing to acknowledge him
with a personal pronoun, refusing to recognize his relationship
with Sam and how much the creature meant to him. Despite having
been around Yeth quite a few times, she’d never even spoken to his
Hellhound. Understandably, she had a great deal of mistrust and
hatred centered around demons. Just because Yeth was his indentured
servant didn’t make him any more trustworthy in her eyes.

“What
happened?” he asked in a whisper. Speaking any louder just seemed
to aggravate the wound in his side.

“You want me to
go back to the beginning?” she asked. He nodded. “Not much to tell,
really,” she said, shrugging. “I volunteered to go with one of the
demo squads. Got here yesterday. Not what we expected.” She saw the
question in his face and obviously chose to misinterpret it.

“This looks
like an old Police Museum, somewhere in the lower East side,
although I’m not sure whether I’m meant to know that or not. It’s
hard not to know, what with all the display cases and signage
everywhere. We’re not far from the tunnel where we dragged you.
It’s basically the headquarters of the resistance. Luckily, we
found them – or they found us – first. It’s a decent base of
operations. Solid. Made of stone. There’s access to the sewers
underneath here. That’s how we got you in. They’ve managed to keep
their location a secret so far.”

“So, how did
you …’

“Find you?” she
finished for him. “Your creature summoned me. Let me know through
some creepy mind pictures where you were and that you were in
trouble. It wasn’t hard – we just followed the sound of screaming.
Of course, that drew attention to us. Our new allies weren’t very
happy about that for several reasons. The only reason they’re still
alive for the most part is because they’ve been keeping under the
radar. What you did last night wasn’t very discreet. Not only that,
but let’s just say there’s a bit of suspicion centered on you. They
might not know what you are, but they certainly knew what your pet
was. You might want to keep your hood on when they come to question
you.”

“My swords. My
pack?”

“Are safe,” she
said. “Don’t worry. You’ve got bigger fish to fry.” She cut to the
chase. “I’d ask you if you wanted the good news but there isn’t
any. Only bad. Nothing unusual there. The thing is, we were too
late. A few days too late. We missed our chance, Sam.”

She paused, for
the first time in a long time conscious of what shock could do to
Sam in his weakened condition. “The Antichrist is already here. The
invasion fleet too. It’s all over, Sam. New York is already
lost.”

Sam didn’t move
or say anything for a moment. How was this possible? There was no
way the Anti-Christ could already be here. Unless … unless their
Intel had been compromised. Or someone had been compromised. That
person had to be Adam but Sam didn’t believe it for a moment. There
was no way Adam would betray them. Or would he? Sam doubted it but
he’d been wrong before. That, however, wasn’t the issue now. The
issue now was making sure land and sea based defense forces didn’t
run straight into a trap. They’d have to be warned.

“We need to get
word to them, to the others,” he said, trying to sit up.

Grace held up a
hand to silence him. “I know. I know. Not that we could spare them,
but we’ve sent two of our team to do just that. Got them out
through the sewers. No easy task.”

Sam nodded,
subsiding down onto the mattress. He still had a lot of questions
but didn’t have the strength. It was taxing just talking.

As if realizing
this, Grace stood. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be back in a few hours.
Make sure you get some rest. You’ll need it for the
interrogation.”

True to her
word, Grace was back in a few hours. She wasn’t alone. She was
accompanied by a small man who immediately reminded Sam of his
master, Hikari. Not that the newcomer was Japanese, it was just
that he seemed to radiate the same reassuring aura of calm. Sam
tried to sit up again and even though his strength was gradually
returning, he was still too weak. Since Grace had left, he’d had no
other visitor and was eager for answers. Apparently, so was the
Resistance.

The man carried
two chairs. He set them down next to Sam’s mattress as Grace
introduced her companion. His name was Tony. He was the leader of
the Resistance in New York and Sam could see immediately why. It
wasn’t just the calmness. He had a certain quality about him that
spoke of leadership, that commanded instant obedience. Oddly, he
was still dressed in a suit that looked like it was very expensive.
Once. The quality material and exquisite cut was now marred by
rips, tears and burn marks. Tony himself didn’t look exceptional in
any way. His dark hair was trimmed short and his features were
unremarkably if a trifle overweight but Sam sensed the
determination and cold calculation in his mind. Tony was not to be
messed with.

He bent down
and pulled Sam’s hood down off his head before he had a chance to
react, revealing the dark horns.

“You are a
demon,” said Tony, without preamble in a strong New York accent.
Clearly Tony was a local. His voice and face were
expressionless.

Sam was
momentarily lost for words. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting.
“Only half,” he managed. “How did you know?”

“I told him,”
said Grace.

Sam felt her
deceit like a hammer blow to the stomach. Yet another one. Was he
so damned that he deserved to be treated like this? He glared at
her and she dropped her gaze, refusing to meet the accusation in
his eyes, for once embarrassed by her actions.

“Don’t blame
her,” said Tony, straightening up. There was steel in his voice. He
wasn’t asking. “I guessed. Her reaction and those horns just
confirmed my suspicions. I saw them when they first brought you in,
unconscious. She didn’t really have any choice but to tell me.” He
paused, considering his words carefully. “Tell me everything you
know. Leave nothing out and don’t lie. That is your one and only
warning.”

Sam also had no
choice. Squashing the anger he felt towards Grace, he began telling
Tony about his origins and a brief summary of the events that had
led him to New York. Tony interrupted frequently, checking to see
if he’d heard correctly, asking for more details when the story
became too unbelievable or confusing.

When Sam had
finished, Tony sat back in his chair and breathed out slowly. “Just
so I’ve got this straight. Your mother was human but your father is
Satan. You’ve been charged by Gabriel to save as many innocent
humans as you can. You were meant to be the Antichrist but refused
the offer. You’re here now as an advance scout for the US forces
that are on their way here. Sound about right?”

Sam nodded
mutely.

“And that giant
Hell beast is your pet, right?”

Sam nodded
again.

“Thing is, how
do I trust you? Half my family went up in the Rapture. I saw the
other half get dragged down into Hell by creatures like your little
doggy. Creatures that you seem related to. How do you expect me to
react here? My men tell me you were fighting demons but how do I
know? No-one saw it for themselves. Grace here vouches for you but
what does that mean to me? I’ve only just met her too.”

Tony ran the
fingers of one hand over his smoothly shaved jaw, considering. “I
admit that this isn’t an easy decision. You’ve got to realize that
I have the lives of hundreds of others to consider here. Their
safety. Under the circumstances, I can’t allow you to leave. You
could potentially compromise everything we have worked hard to
achieve. I also can’t allow you your freedom.”

Sam listened,
aghast. He could understand that Tony might have reservations about
him, but this could ruin everything. “You don’t understand,”
pleaded Sam. “The Antichrist is here. I’m the only one who can
defeat him.”

Tony smiled
without humor. “We’ll see about that, boy. In the meantime, you are
confined here, under guard. I don’t want you leaving this room.
Things may change – may – if and when your allies get here, but
until that time, I’ll not revisit my decision.” He nodded once at
Sam who was spluttering on the mattress, trying to rise, and
stood.

“There is a
guard outside this door,” he said. “Don’t try to leave. They have
orders to shoot and trust me when I say that their guns are loaded
with iron.” He gestured at Grace. She stood too, gave Sam a look
that he couldn’t decipher and allowed herself to be led out of the
room.

The door shut
behind them with the sound of finality. Sam heard a bolt sliding
across. He was effectively a prisoner. A prisoner of the
Resistance. The very people he was trying to save.

Confinement

“
He will oppose and
will exalt himself over everything that is called God or is
worshiped, so that he sets himself up in God's temple, proclaiming
himself to be God.”
2 Thessalonians 2:4

I
t took Sam almost three days to completely regain his
strength. This in itself was extraordinary, testimony to how close
to death he had been. The scars, especially the raised one from the
Cambion’s Hell blade, were a constant reminder of how many injuries
he’d suffered. He had quite a collection now. He had one on his
chest and a very impressive one on his left leg where his brother
had cut him. That had been a bad injury – almost taking off the leg
completely. He’d only lived because his father had saved him.
Ironic that. Had saved him only to try and kill him again with the
Devil’s Hand. His father continued to move in mysterious ways.

When he started
feeling better, he investigated the room. The covered window was
tiny. All he could see was the building across the street. He left
it covered during the day but removed the sheet at night. In
addition, iron bars secured it from demon attack from outside,
keeping him in just as effectively. The door was as solid as he’d
assumed. He tried to use his telekinesis to open it but it was
padlocked securely.