Rise of the Beast (39 page)

That revelation brought a smile to Bedillia’s face. It confirmed what she had already suspected about Cordon’s character.

Cordon turned to Abaddon. “Abaddon, is there nothing that you can do about these creatures of yours? They are a menace. We have tried to keep their numbers under control, but we are experiencing only limited success. I cannot dismiss the possibility that they are somehow behind the disappearances.”

“But how could that possibly be?” objected Abaddon. Surely, you are not suggesting that they somehow spirited away so many humans and demons. They aren’t capable of such a feat.”

“No, I realize that,” replied Cordon. “However, I suspect that there is a connection.”

“My control over my creatures has faded with the passage of time,” admitted Abaddon. “This is a consequence I had not foreseen. Only about a third of the children I released still respond to my commands. I lost their prime in the Valley of Noak two years ago.”

“Their prime?” asked Cordon.

“Yes,” confirmed Abaddon. “The prime is the eldest of the creatures, the father of the lineage of virtually all of them. It was with his assistance that I controlled the rest. With him gone, many simply follow their base instinct—to attack all of those whose hearts are dark and unrepentant.”

“But they couldn’t cause over 3,000 humans and demons to simply vanish,” deduced Cordon.

“No, of course not,” replied Abaddon. “And you have my word; neither I nor any under my command have returned to that place since then.”

“Are you so sure?” asked Cordon.

“Yes, I am sure,” replied Abaddon.

There was a long pause. “I believe you,” said Cordon. “Which still leaves the question, who did this, and how?” He looked over at the chessboard on the conference table. “Checkmate in three for white. I fear that there is a new player in the game for power here in Hell, and that is not the worst of it. General Krell has returned. He has been judged in Heaven and sent back here by the Father. He will be expecting me to gate him to Satan’s old audience chamber within the hour. I managed to delay him so as to speak to you first. I fear that he will not
be pleased with me for many reasons.”

“The least of which will be negotiating with us,” deduced Bedillia.

Cordon nodded. “And this incident in Noak could not have come at a less opportune moment. Like all of the others who have been returned to us, he came through the great portal. That has never made sense to me. Rolf and I destroyed its internal mechanism, its circuitry, if you wish. It shouldn’t function, yet it does. I examined its internal structure not long ago. All of its components were restored.”

“The Father might have done that,” suggested Abaddon.

The conversation was interrupted by yet another unscheduled telesphere transmission. Abaddon pressed the receive button to behold a momentary sphere of static before David Bonner and the angel Aaron came into focus.

“We have a problem,” announced David. “General Krell was judged by the saints today. He is on his way back to Hell. I suspect that he might be there already. Tell Cordon that he may soon be deposed.”

“Yes,” confirmed Abaddon, “we just got the word.”

“But how?” asked David. Only then did David see Cordon step from the background into full view. “Oh my.”

“It’s OK,” said Bedillia, “he’s a friend. David, Aaron, this is Cordon, leader of the demon forces of Hell.”

Cordon cringed. “I prefer fallen angel, if you don’t mind, and you are correct. I will not be their leader much longer. With his recent return, General Krell is now the ranking fallen angel of Hell. Within the hour, I will be compelled to turn over command to him.”

“What might we expect from him?” asked Abaddon.

“I do not have that answer,” admitted Cordon.

There was little more to say. Their worst fears had been realized. As Abaddon and Bedillia walked Cordon back to the ring room, spirits were low.

“Place your forces on high alert,” warned Cordon. “I don’t believe that General Krell will attack immediately. He doesn’t tend to be impulsive, but I cannot rule it out. In the meantime, I’ll try to negotiate with him on your behalf, but
be ready for the worst.”

“We all appreciate what you’ve tried to do,” said Bedillia, shaking Cordon’s hand as he prepared to depart. “I wish it had worked out better.”

“Don’t lose hope just yet,” said Cordon. “I’ve always prided myself on being a good negotiator when I needed to be. The day may not be lost quite yet.”

A field of misty stars appeared in the ring, and Cordon vanished into them. Abaddon and Bedillia walked back to the conference room.

“Maybe we could go somewhere else,” suggested Bedillia. “There have to be other caverns.”

Abaddon shook his head. “If we start running, then we’ll be running until the day that the demons capture the last of us. We aren’t putting plans like that on the table, at least not yet. We’ve got to know what we’re up against. Then we proceed from there.”

“But where do we start?” asked Bedillia.

“That’s simple,” replied Abaddon. “We start at where this conflict all started. We go to the Plunge of Desolation.”

A glowing, blue cloud filled with shimmering stars materialized behind a pile of boulders along the narrow canyon. Out of the cloud stepped three figures, a dark angel and two humans. The cloud vanished behind them.

They ventured cautiously into the 50-foot-wide canyon. Normally there would have been a long procession of shackled, rag-clad people heading up this canyon, but not today. Bedillia looked about nervously. This place brought back bad memories. Two years ago, she had been a part of that procession for one complete circuit, even making the terrible plunge from the cliff. She caressed her particle pistol nervously.

“Are you OK, Bedillia?” asked Kurt, whose rifle was still slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m OK,” she confirmed, scanning the length of the ridge to the west.

“Let’s stay together,” cautioned Abaddon. “There might still be demons here, searching the area. I’d rather not have to explain the reason for our presence here.”

“According to the treaty, we have every right to be here,” objected Kurt.

True,” conceded Abaddon, “but our presence could place us in an awkward or even dangerous position. We don’t want to create an incident.”

“Well, whatever,” said Kurt. “I wish we could have investigated this incident a few days ago, right after it happened, rather than wait five days.”

“As I said, I didn’t want to encounter any demons,” said Abaddon. “I assume that they have completed their investigation by now.”

The team moved southward, up the canyon, wary of any movement; there was none. There was a well-worn trail up the rocky floor, well worn by the feet of thousands of humans for just as many thousands of years.

Bedillia mulled over the reason for this place all the while, even as she scanned the barren landscape about her. She thought of the human tragedy it represented. She pondered the almost inconceivable pain and suffering. Where had all of these people gone?

For the next three hours the team searched for the sign of a struggle, dried blood, anything. They followed the trail up the side of the canyon and across the ridge to the very precipice of the cliff itself then backtracked their way to the place where the canyon met the four-mile-wide Valley of Noak, a place that appeared about as hospitable as Death Valley. There was never so much as a drop of rain here, not even clouds beyond those associated with the occasional dust storm. The bloated, red sun hung a short distance above the western horizon, forever stationary.

Out here in the open valley, the temperature was a very dry 90. There were certainly more unpleasant places in Hell, as far as the climate was concerned. Here the group concentrated their search. This was one of the places where the demons tended to congregate, the location where those who jumped from the cliff were at last reunited with the ground.

Over the two years since Bedillia had fallen from that cliff, she had tried to block this place out of her mind, but she particularly remembered this place. Still, it seemed strange that it was so quiet.

“I don’t get it,” admitted Kurt, taking a swig of water from the canteen. “There is soft sand and gravel all around, yet I don’t see any footprints. It’s like every inch of this place has been swept clean.”

Abaddon scanned the cliffs behind them carefully as if looking for something in particular. “That is because it was swept clean.”

“I don’t follow you,” admitted Kurt.

“This entire area was swept clean by tens of thousands of my children,” continued Abaddon. “It is part of the instinct that I gave them—cover their tracks. You can see it in the scalloped texture of the sand. Oh yes, they were very busy. In this case they did the job too well. They not only removed their own tracks, they removed all tracks. They also removed most of the evidence, but not quite all.” Abaddon pointed to the north side of a rock in front of him. “This blood, almost totally erased from the stone, is not human blood; it is demon blood. It has the smell of it. My children took a demon down right here. Then he was somehow removed. There are faint traces of blood that lead up the canyon. They are barely distinguishable, but they are unmistakable. Only a warrior angel would be able to track them, not one of Satan’s brood.”

“So, where to from here?” asked Bedillia.

“Back up the canyon,” said Abaddon.

The group was on the move again. They went past the point where the procession normally left the canyon and followed the switchback trail to the west and proceeded even further up the canyon. All the while, Abaddon followed the scent of blood.

“Scan the canyon walls,” said the dark angel. “Watch for any sign of movement.”

“What are we looking for?” asked Bedillia.

“My children,” replied Abaddon. “I assure you, they are here, and they know we are here. They’ve known it for some time.”

The team was just over a mile up this previously unexplored region when Kurt turned suddenly to the left. He focused on a point about half way up the 300-foot-high wall of rock. “I’m sure I saw movement up there.” He pulled his binoculars from their case and focused on a small cleft in the rock. “Abaddon, there’s an AC up there watching us. No, make that two of them.”

Abaddon took the binoculars and scanned the cliff. “I see them. They’re watching us alright. I will try to summon them to come here.”

Abaddon stretched out his hand, but his children did not respond. He seemed very troubled.

“They’ve gone feral, haven’t they?” deduced Bedillia.

“Possibly,” replied Abaddon. “Still, I can assure you that they will not attack us. That is their prime instinct.”

“What now?” asked Kurt, who managed to catch sight of another AC in flight further up the canyon.

“We continue on,” said Abaddon. “The blood trail continues. We should follow it.”

They’d walked only another hundred yards when Bedillia saw a small cave to their right. She moved to investigate it. She looked into the quiet darkness.

“It looks pretty tight in there,” noted Kurt, directing his flashlight into the opening.

“I think I could squeeze in there,” said Bedillia, pulling the flashlight from her utility belt and sticking her head in.

“You’ll do no such thing,” said Abaddon. “You don’t know what is in there. There are beasts within the subterranean depths of Hell that are indeed cruel and dangerous.”

“I don’t think I could get through that tunnel,” noted Kurt, turning to Abaddon. “And you certainly couldn’t.”

“I’m convinced that our answers are in there,” said Bedillia, leaning in still further. “I need to go.”

“You’re not going in there alone,” said Abaddon. “There is no trail of blood leading in there anyway. It continues further up the canyon, and so we should move on.”

And so they did. Along the way they saw many more ACs watching them from the rocks and flying overhead, but none of them would respond to Abaddon.

The floor of the canyon was wider here, perhaps 150 feet, but littered with
huge boulders. They had traveled another 20 minutes when Abaddon came to a halt. He pointed to a particularly odd-looking rock formation.

“That is strange,” noted Bedillia, approaching it. “It is so smooth, almost glassy. How would something like that form?”

“I’m not quite sure,” said Kurt. “It looks like the rock was melted.”

“The result of a fireball projected from the sword of a demon,” said Abaddon, reaching out to the rock face, “quite a number of them from the appearance of it. There was an opening here, but it was sealed. The blood trail ends here.”

“Well congratulations Mr. Holmes,” said a brown haired young man in a black cloak, stepping out from behind a boulder, accompanied by about two dozen ACs. “Or should I call you Abaddon, ruler of the dark angels, king of Refuge?”

“I am not a king,” corrected Abaddon, “I am its administrator.”

“Same thing,” said the youth, scanning the three explorers. “And to set the record straight, the sword was wielded by me, not by some demon.”

“I stand corrected,” said Abaddon, no emotion in his voice.

“So, you finally came back,” said the young man. “A bit too late, however. I have already liberated this place. I’ve set the captives free.”