Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) (20 page)
Read Alan Price and the Colossus of Rhodes (The Nephilim Chronicles) Online
Authors: Jonathan Yanez
nearly matched the wings that carried him. “Good, as soon as they arrive we’ll
attack. It will give us enough time to scout the area.”
“It should be daybreak when they
get here,” Esther added. “Fighting with the sun at our back and the light in
our enemies’ eyes will be helpful.”
we can get no matter how small.”
Michael could hear Caleb chuckling
despite the hour. “Care to share what’s so funny?” Micha
e
l
asked.
that we’ll be attacking at dawn. I’ve always wondered why in books they always
attack at dawn. Ironic, right?”
Michael and Esther both exchanged
rolling eyes still they couldn’t help but acknowledge Caleb’s point.
Nephilim are also bringing our gear.”
Michael turned, confused. “Oh, I
know you said it was pointless to bring any armor or weapons,” Caleb said
raising both hands palms up. “Our plan is still the same: wrestle theirs from
their dying hands and use their own weapons against them. I just thought we
could still use a uniform for our army. I mean, we can’t have you giving one of
your epic speeches in that.”
trio zipped through the hot air. Michael examined his attire. With no time to spare,
he had refused to pause and change into any kind of traveling or battle outfit.
Losing his black suit jacket and tie, Michael still wore his black slacks,
dress shoes and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. “Point
taken. What did you have in mind?”
Chapter 56
Alan’s words sunk into the moment as smooth as sand paper over granite. Of all people,
Jericho was the first to break the silence. The stout man whooped and hollered.
Other members of the warrior Angels laughed aloud and even clapped their hands
at the sudden turn of events. Samson and Deborah raised their eyebrows and
looked to Sera for direction. Hands clenched to either side, the leader of the
Death Angels was not amused. “The nerve you have is beyond me, Nephilim. You
can barely stand, let alone fight. No, your answer is no. Samson, Debor—“
“I know you aren’t scared, Sera,”
Alan said, heat rising from his chest as he channeled and willed his wings to
form. “You couldn’t be the leader of the Death Angels if you were fearful. So,
what is it? Come on. Fight me. If you win, you get what you want: I die. If I
win, you join us and fight against the very people you once called your
enemies.”
to know what Alan was doing. He was forcing her into a corner where she would
have to fight. Especially now as the other Death Angels in attendance found
their voice and picked up chants and jeers. Lucky for Alan, the group had been
in near isolation for such a long period. It didn’t take much to get them
excited about something. Alan almost thought he heard a few shouts of
encouragement for him.
“Come on, Seraphim, you still got
it… Don’t you?”
“Don’t give up, boy!”
to like this kid.”
The shouts continued to pick up in tempo
and volume. Alan was content to give Sera as much time as possible to decide.
His wings still weren’t forming. He could feel his internal heat growing. He just
wasn’t quite there yet.
I hope you know what you’re doing
, he said to
himself.
This was your best shot. Your only shot. You’re too weak to fight
two of them but maybe, just maybe you have enough left in the tank to surprise
one. You have to finish this quick.
bouncing, giving the dome of her head the affect that she was actually aflame.
She turned, looking each one of her warriors in the eye before stopping to
stare at Alan. She was beyond intimidating. In that moment, Alan would rather
have faced a charging lion. The silence made things worse. No one spoke, not
even the wind dared to interrupt the stressed moment. “I accept,” Sera said.
A shout rose from deep within the lungs
of all the Death Angels as they prepared to see their leader in action. Samson
and Deborah stepped to the side giving Sera and Alan ample space.
Alan already knew she would come
quickly. She would attack without warning as seemed customary to their warrior
race. His body was broken, she would underestimate the strength he still
possessed. If only his wings would cooperate. Alan stood still squinting
against the harsh rays of sun that blazed against the ruined courtyard grounds.
Alan could feel the heat rise from some hidden cavern deep inside.
I hope
you’re ready, wings.
He thought quietly to himself and the wings that could
not provide a response,
I need you now, don’t let me down or we’re both
dead.
expected. Roars from her men- and women-at-arms shattered the sky. Alan stood
feet firmly planted, knees only slightly bent. His hands were clenched so
tightly into fists he could feel his finger nails digging into his palms.
She was charging him head on. With
every step she took, her own raven black wings began to sprout and take form
behind her. With only twenty yards until impact, Sera took flight. Gliding a
few feet off the ground, her wings beat the air violently behind her,
propelling her forward at a dangerous speed.
The intensity in her eyes was
enough to make any warrior shudder. Both arms pointed forward, she was going to
tackle Alan with enough force to snap his spine in two. Waiting in the middle
of a street, facing down a hurling Mack truck would have been easier. Only ten
yards and a brief second separated the angelic spear from her Nephilim target.
Alan thought
as his wings failed to appear.
I hope Danielle is ready to do some serious
healing.
At the last possible moment, in one
large show of magnificent soft blue light, wings shot from Alan’s back.
Originating somewhere near his shoulder blades, Alan could feel energy surge from
him and extend out to his wings.
very closely resembled birds’, Alan’s wings seemed to be made of glowing light.
Still taking the common shape of traditional wings, his aerial extensions
hummed softly with power. Instead of feathers, blue lines made up his wings and
ran parallel from the origin points of his back down to the tips of each wing.
Alan was as stunned as Sera. The expression on her
face was priceless. In one tenth of a second, rage turned to wonder, primal
intensity to awesome intrigue. Unsure how to control his wings, Alan tensed as
he prepared for the inevitable collision. Alan raised his arms to shield his
face. Out of instinct, his wings did the same. Alan found himself wrapped in a
blue cocoon of pulsating winged safety.
Too late to deviate from her plan, Sera
hit the cocoon at a speed that boggled Alan’s mind.
Chapter 57
“They’ve arrived?” Kyle asked
wiping beads of sweat from his brow.
Ardat nodded once again finding
herself in a position to play “good demon” and placate those following her
instructions. “All is going to plan. They found us just as I wanted them to.
The Angels have us surrounded and are waiting for their own Nephilim to arrive
before they attack, just as we knew they would. The armor for the giants, is it
complete?”
Kyle nodded nervousness clear
across his young face. “Yes, everything is finished.”
“Good, report to Dominic. When the
fighting starts, stay by his side.”
Kyle did an awkward half bow as he
retreated into the deeper recesses of the cave structure to find Dominic.
departed from her private chamber. She headed to a larger portion of the
underground desert caves where her army had set up their headquarters.
Along the dark halls lit only by
torches placed in holders against the walls, she encountered dozens of demonic
Nephilim soldiers running to and from their various tasks. Every single one
either bowed low as they passed or lowered their head in respect. Ardat didn’t
bother to return their gestures; as a member of the Fallen, she was not
expected to. These were humans, slaves. In a way, they were only what they were
because her and her kind deemed it so.
They were a means to an end. Dominic and Kyle, who where her own to command,
were expendable: they all were. Ardat was much too aware of herself to allow
these passing thoughts to hold her attention for long. She had a war council to
address.
A few minutes of walking down
the torch-lit cave halls found her in a massive chamber carved out of dark red desert
rock. All the Fallen, no matter what their rank or skill level, had been
summoned. All but a few headed the call. A sea of twisted faces greeted their
leader as she entered the room and walked to a raised platform. An open podium awaited
her. The room quieted on cue as she moistened her lips and looked out into
their expecting eyes.
Many, like herself, had chosen to
keep the same faces they were given at creation: beautiful faces that had
distinguished them once as Angels. After the fall, others had decided to truly
embrace their new identities and allowed what was on the inside to show through
on the outside. The result of this decision among others resulted in fanged
teeth, sprouting horns and reptile-like eyes. Ardat had centuries to adjust to
these features and now looked at both normal and abnormal members of the Fallen
race as one and the same.
The room twisted in shadows of
torches and lanterns as Ardat began. “You all know me well. We’ve had much too
long a time imprisoned on this earth together not to. But I am here to tell you,
friends, brother and sisters, that this chapter in our lives is coming to an
end. With your help, we have found the lost Chronicle of celestial weapon
making. With your help we have resurrected the material needed to create our
instruments of war and we have made enough to equip an entire army.”
Ardat’s voice rose as she talked.
With her last sentence, she lifted a fist into the air. The result was just as
she expected: thunderous applause and grunts of support. Not a single member of
the Fallen race was content to stand still. Every single Fallen soul was eager
and ready to fight. They just needed one final push, one final reason to die on
the battlefield for their beliefs and her gain. “The Angels of Heaven are at
our gates once again, dear friends. Once again, they are here to kill and maim,
not only us but our loved ones as well. This time, however, will be different.
This time we are the ones with the weapons and they are the sheep in our
slaughter pen.”
memory of defeat and the loss of those in the first war, then to rage and
anger. Violently they stomped their feet and shook their fists in the air.
Ardat stood tall and commanding, drawing in a deep breath: she knew they were
ready. “To the armory, my friends. When their Nephilim arrive at dawn, we
spring our trap!”
Chapter 58
enough to topple a building. Instead, Alan’s wings absorbed her devastating
blow. They trembled under the force of the collision and shook under the
exertion. Despite this, they held strong. In one powerful motion, blue wings
violently swatted Sera back as they opened from their defensive position. At
the crux of the collision, Alan closed his eyes. As the moment of impact passed,
Alan allowed himself a peek at what waited next for him. Not a single jaw was
closed. Heads tilted forward with eyes unsure of what they were seeing. Death
Angels stood stunned as their leader was not only stopped, but also turned and
blown back in the opposite direction. Alan felt his jaw also drop as he
witnessed Sera struggling to her feet from across the courtyard. His wings had
sent her flying back to where she had first started her attack, near Alexander
and Danielle.
Awe and a bit of fear consumed
Alan’s senses as he truly examined his wings for the first time. They fluttered
softly on either side. With similar mental instruction he would use to lift his
arm, he looked to his wings and ordered them to move. Sure enough, soft blue
energy wings responded in turn. He could move them just like any limb, up,
down, out. They felt good; they felt great. Instinct must have saved Alan from Sera’s
attack. Survival mode and adrenaline ordered his wings to protect him.
later,” Danielle yelled. Alexander had lost his grip on Danielle when Alan’s
wings made their appearance. She ran now to stand by him. “She’s getting up. Here,
before you go.” Danielle wiped her tear-streaked face with the back of her
right hand as she placed her left palm on Alan’s shoulder.
Warmth flowed from Danielle into
Alan. Cuts began to close, aches receded and pain ebbed. “Were you crying for
me?” Somewhere in the back of Alan’s mind, he knew that this was not the
appropriate time to ask the question. He just couldn’t help himself. Not once
in his existence could he remember anyone carrying enough about him to shed
tears.
him with a scowl. “Yeah, I thought they were going to kill you—if you’re
going to be a jerk about it—“
“No,” Alan said as reflexes took
over and he placed his own hand on top of hers. “It’s not that at all. It’s
just, no one has ever cared about what happens to me.”