The Book of Daniel (24 page)

“Stay with me, Harper. Here, take this. It was my mother’s. That’s Saint George, the patron saint of soldiers. I know that’s not much of a substitute for Thomas, but you’d be surprised just how many times he seemed to save my arse back on Earth, even in spite of my lack of faith. Maybe it will help, I don’t know. Just don’t stray off, okay? I get the feeling that any second now Abraham and I will be needing all the help we can get, both from you and from George there. Alright? Harper!”

It seemed to work. I could see the clouds clear slightly from her eyes, focussing back on what was going on around her. And just in the nick of time, too, because at that exact instant, the rest of the approaching mob, impossibly forgotten for a few moments, slammed into our ranks like a runaway zoo train. It was as if someone had loaded a shotgun with every conceivable means of rending human flesh and fired it into our lines at point-blank range. Blades, teeth and claws flashed through the dust that billowed up from the ground. Bodies—and parts of bodies—scattered in every direction, yielding to the charge. Cries of terror, pain and exertion joined with the unholy shrieking of the demons in a medieval chorus of warfare.

All Hell had truly broken loose.

Chapter 15

I
n an instant, chaos boiled around me. From the centre of the whirlpool that surrounded us, I watched the seething, unholy mass of demons, locked in combat with the Purgatorians; and darting amongst the madness, like silver fish in a muddy stream, were the angels. It was hard not to marvel at them as they sailed across the battlefield, effortlessly carving their way from one skirmish to the next, delivering helpless soldiers from evil with every graceful movement of their swords. The demons’ attempts at retaliation were futile.

Despite the fury of the tsunami that had crashed over our battle lines, the momentum of the horde’s charge gradually waned, broken over the rocks of opposition. Those Purgatorians floundering in the wash began to rally, forming up into small islands, swords facing outwards in crude protective formations. These pockets of resistance slowly inched their way towards each other, trying to join up before the demons could overwhelm them. Not all of them were successful; I watched in horror as one poor group of unfortunates got torn to shreds by what looked like the animated carcass of a bull. The beast leapt over the heads of those fighting around it, impossibly high and with unexpected grace, and smashed down into the knot of soldiers, thrashing its horns from side to side and laying waste to both the soldiers’ bodies and their hopes. But the most terrifying part of this massacre was the angel that stood to one side, watching impassively as the bull slew every last member of the doomed unit. Of the blue light that had delivered Thomas safely to Heaven, there was not a trace. For whatever reason, God’s infinite patience had run out with these poor wretches, and there were plenty of others nearby who suffered a similar fate.

I was so caught up in the spectacle of the battle unfolding around me that I didn’t notice the creature closing in on us until it was almost too late. The clouds of dust obscured its approach, only parting at the last moment to reveal the spiky black giant that had first locked eyes with mine across the battlefield. As it noticed me, its unsettling grin widened in recognition, and I somehow knew that it had deliberately made its way here, seeking me out. Its quarry at hand, the demon released the leg of the unfortunate corpse it had been dragging along behind it, flexed its claws, and stomped purposefully towards Harper and me. Its inky spines bristled as it approached, rattling against each other like hollow bones, and from somewhere deep within its chest issued a horrible, wolf-like growl.

It felt as if I were frozen in terror, but by the time the monster had closed the gap and loomed above Harper and me, I had somehow manoeuvred myself to stand in front of her, sword raised in defiance. I cannot remember exactly how I came to be there like that; certainly every instinct screamed at me to run, to forget her, to let her take care of herself or leave her to the angels’ mercy. The demon’s presence was so overpowering, so terrifying, that I might even have felt the same way if it had been Jo that stood behind me instead of Harper.

Smothering my urge to flee, I tried to think rationally instead. I remembered what Thomas had told me: that fear was exactly what these things, in all their many shapes, were designed to instil, and that faith was supposed to be the most effective weapon to use against them. The only problem with that was that my faith had been dead for years; but then, given the perilous nature of the moment, maybe the time was right to try to reanimate its corpse… before the monster in front of us saw to it that the rest of me was just as dead. I also recalled the rest of what Thomas had said, and self-consciously mumbled the first prayer I had done for years. In his exact words: what did I have to lose by trying? I simply prayed for courage, and got precisely the response I was expecting, which was nothing. I still felt terrified.

My mind fumbled around for something else.

I tried reasoning. Even though the battle had only just been joined, I had already seen with my own eyes the angels dispatch demon after demon. I had concrete evidence that they were more than capable of protecting us, and I was still fairly confident that I hadn’t been in Purgatory long enough yet to be judged and condemned like the poor souls who had just met their fate at the ends of the bull’s horns; so surely I could trust in the angels and have faith in them?

It almost worked. But there was no sign of any angel nearby, which at that exact moment made them just about as dependable to me as God.

O ye of little faith, indeed.

I thought instead about what I stood to lose if I fled from the demon, and, of course, that made me think about Jo. I knew that if I ever did make it out of Purgatory alive, I would one day have to look her in the eyes as I explained my actions there on the battlefield—and if I abandoned Harper now, I didn’t think I’d be able to face doing that, not if I ever wanted Jo to still think of me as a protector. For no particular reason, I remembered a T-shirt she used to wear—sometimes with nothing else—with four block capital letters and a question mark on the front: “WWJD?”. “What would Jesus do?” The slogan was supposed to prompt Christians to think about the right way to behave when faced with tricky situations. I had no idea what Jesus would do in the situation I was facing right then, but I knew What Would Jo Do. No question mark.

Better.

I stood my ground.

“Come on then, you fucker, let’s see if you dance as good as you look.”

As a potential epitaph, I thought it sounded pretty good.

Harper stepped up next to me as the demon closed in. “Chivalry is all very well, Dan, but you haven’t even bloodied your sword for the first time yet. You be careful. This wife of yours would kill me if I let you get devoured on your first day out.”

She had a point, and even though my macho pride flinched, at the same time I was relieved that I wouldn’t be facing this thing down on my own. “Yeah, you don’t want to get on Jo’s wrong side. This thing would look like a pussycat in comparison. As they say, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

“Believe it,” muttered Harper darkly, with a look to match. Even if I hadn’t already known about the murder in Harper’s history, I would still almost have felt sorry for the approaching demon.

The shadow of the fiend fell across us, blotting out both the light and any further conversation. I looked around, hoping that perhaps some reinforcements were near at hand, but those few soldiers I could see were already engaged in skirmishes of their own. I had no idea where Abraham had gone—run off, eaten, maybe even taken up in a ball of blue light and spared this nightmare—but it was clear that Harper and I were on our own. Of the angels in which I had briefly considered placing my faith, there was still no sign. I felt no surprise, only a weary resignation.

As the giant lurched towards us, its grin grew wider and wider, and I could sense the contempt streaming off of it. I certainly couldn’t blame it. The two swords that we brandished seemed woefully inadequate, toothpicks against an elephant, but I doubt I would have felt any more confident had we been driving a tank instead. The idea of turning and making a run for it skittered nervously through my mind again—after all, Harper seemed more than happy to take care of herself—but by that point, I knew it was too late.

It was too late for anything but to fight.

With its last stride, the demon raised one of its enormous fists into the air and swept it downwards like a wrecking ball. But it was an unexpectedly slow action, almost lazy, and Harper and I easily avoided it. There was a vague whiff of sulphur in its wake. The giant fist continued along its trajectory, spinning the demon around and gaining momentum for its next sweep. This time, Harper even managed to slice into the hand as it passed by, and her sword glowed blue as it bit into flesh, relishing the taste of evil. The monster quickly pulled its hand back, howling with pain, and I felt a surge of confidence; the demons were certainly terrifying, but if they were this frail, then surely we had nothing to be scared of!

The demon’s eyes glowed in sympathy with Harper’s blade, as red as hot coals, radiating hate. I leapt forwards to press the advantage, eager to prove both to myself and to Harper—and maybe to God, too, if He was watching—that I could pull my weight out there on the battlefield. But the battle cry died in my throat when I heard Harper shouting behind me.

“Dan, no! Don’t! It’s a trap!”

The instant her warning was in the air, the demon made a miraculous recovery from its apparent injury, and the fist shot towards me again, faster than black lightning. There was a colossal thud as it plunged into the ground where I had been standing just a moment earlier; if it hadn’t been for Harper’s warning, the blow would have been deadly accurate. A shower of black spines rained over me, knocked loose from the demon’s arm by the force of the impact and hurled forwards like javelins by their momentum. I staggered away from the fist, too busy choking on dust and sulphur to try to avoid the missiles. All I could do was raise my arms protectively over my head and hope for the best as I felt them clattering off of my armour.

Somehow—I was still too sceptical to call it a miracle—I managed to stumble back to Harper. I chanced a look over my shoulder, fully expecting to see the black giant right behind me, but instead it stood exactly where I had left it, its hateful, gleeful grin mocking my frantic escape. I wondered why it hadn’t come after me, but the knots in my stomach answered that question easily enough: it was all part of the game, to keep me as scared as possible. I grimly recalled my comment to Harper a few moments earlier, about this thing being like a pussycat. Of course, that’s only a reassurance if you’re the human bending down to stroke its fur, rather than the mouse struggling to flee with your life.

Harper seemed to read my mind. “Pretty fucking scary, eh?” she said, without looking at me. Her eyes were fixed on the demon, trying to discern any indications as to its next move. “It was the same for me the first time, too; I charged at the first Bloodhound I saw, thinking I was Superwoman, and very nearly ended up as dog food instead. If it wasn’t for Thomas watching over me, I’d have had a pretty damned short stay in Purgatory, and not in a good way, either. The angels certainly weren’t interested in saving my hide, even right from the start, despite what they tell you. And I’m not the only one abandoned like that, either. That’s another reason why Thomas and I help the new arrivals like you and Abraham. Helped, I mean.”

I tried to steer her away from thoughts of Thomas. “Speaking of Abraham, did you see where he went?”

“Somewhere over there,” she said, waving off to the left, “but we don’t really have any choice other than to trust him to the hands of the angels for now. Let’s worry about him after we’ve dealt with this guy.”

“If you say so,” I said, dubiously. My brush with the demon’s fist had left a storm of emotions raging in my mind, but through them all, I still felt a pang of guilt that I had failed to keep my promise to Abraham, to help look after him. I felt the urge to run after him now, to try to find him before he fell foul of any danger, but it was obvious that the demon in front of us was not about to let me go free. It didn’t give the impression that dealing with it was going to be as trivial as Harper made it sound, either. “What’s it waiting for?”

“It’s trying to psych us out. Or trying to psych
you
out, I should say. It doesn’t affect me so much anymore, but it can sense that you’re new, and it’s feasting on all the negative shit you’re going through right now.” As if to prove her point, the demon suddenly let rip with an enormous roar and bristled its spines, sending another shudder running down my own. “Mummy must never have told it not to play with its food.”

I was amazed at how cool she seemed in the face of this monster, knowing full well what it was capable of and what would happen to her if she was killed. I didn’t think it was just a fatalistic reaction to Thomas’s departure—whether down to my medallion or not, she seemed to be doing a good job of burying that for the moment—but I also couldn’t believe that her attitude was entirely due to a confidence in her own abilities, especially in light of the angels’ abandonment of her. Whatever her reasons, I wasn’t convinced; but at the same time, Harper had experience on her side, and so following her lead, however inscrutable its foundation, made the most sense, and that meant squashing my fears and anxieties dead.

Even as the thought occurred to me, it took on the sound of Thomas’s voice, and I knew it was the right thing to do. With a deep breath, I tried to slow my racing heart and concentrated on trying to be calm instead. The more I focussed on stemming my fear, the less certain the demon’s grin became, and I knew that my tactics were working. With that realisation, my fear ebbed further still. The demon roared again, trying to rekindle the flames of my fear, but the desperation of its ploy had the opposite effect. My confidence surged, and the demon shifted its weight uneasily from one foot to another, uncertain of its next move.