Armageddon Bound

On the Trail

Just as the sun started to set, I pulled up outside the second location, a rundown warehouse deep in the south end of Old Town. The first, an abandoned strip mall, turned up nothing. It was obvious someone had been there recently, but the area had been swept clean. Too clean. I couldn’t find a dust bunny if I farted in a corner.

Giving in once more to paranoia, spoiled bitch that she is, I parked the car a block over. I walked the long way around the block just to be sure. Back at the warehouse, I examined the chain link fence surrounding the property. Like most everything else in Old Town, there was nothing secure about the place. The fence had several sections where the links had been cut and peeled back, leaving room to slip through without much effort. I took that as an invite. I went through the fence and glanced around the empty yard, looking to see if I could pick out any kind of security system that might have noticed my entry. Satisfied there wasn’t any, I made my way toward the warehouse. I opened up my senses and reached out, sending invisible tendrils in search of the supernatural. Like all demons and devils, I have the innate ability to sense the psychic footprint left by a supernatural being’s use of power. Because magic is not of the natural world and must be drawn from the caster’s realm of influence, most often through the Demonarch, its use bruises the dimensional walls that separate the planes of existence. The more power drawn through the wall, the greater the damage left by its passage.

From the feel of it, this place had taken a serious beating.

I reined in my senses, pulled one of my guns free of its holster, and crept toward the warehouse. As I got closer, I noticed the big rolling door at the docks stood open. I pressed myself against the wall and worked my way toward the ramp, listening. Unable to hear anything that might indicate someone was inside, I ducked low and moved up the ramp as quietly as I could.

Though the sky darkened at my back, there was still sufficient light for me to see inside. Row upon row of empty metal shelves ran from floor to ceiling, their wares long gone. Past them, I could make out a small office. Still not hearing anything but the hurried rush of my nervous breath, I went inside. I walked along the line of closest shelves, making my way toward the office. I glanced all around, but nothing moved in the dusky gloom. Just like the first location, it was obvious someone of power had been here too, and not long ago.

Despite the mish-mash of graffiti-gang tags, Iron Maiden song lyrics, and an almost literate homage to my uncle-I saw none of the usual trappings that came along with an abandoned warehouse. No trash lying about; no empty quart bottles, used condoms, or discarded food wrappers. Nothing to show any of the usual vacated-warehouse residents had been here in years, despite the tags claiming it as so-and-so’s turf and the complete lack of dust.

I closed in on the office situated in a clearing in the forest of shelves. Shards of shattered glass littered the floor, standing out bright in the dim light. I could feel the magical footprint lurking about the office without even trying. Something big happened here, just like Rachelle said. Hoping to figure out what, I pressed myself against the cubicle wall and peeked inside. While barren of furniture, the 10’x10’ space was far from empty. A large star surrounded by a circle was painted in black on the floor. Scattered about inside the circle were a handful of half-melted candles. Large burn marks scorched the cement floor at four points of the pentagram. Unable to get a clear view, I went inside to have a closer look.

As I entered the office, I caught the subtle, tangy scent of burnt flesh. While it smelled enticing, like driving by a barbecue joint, it wasn’t a good sign. I tightened my grip on my pistol and walked along the outside edge of the pentagram. At each of the scorch marks, there were small traces of what appeared to be melted candle wax. I knew better. This was the flesh I smelled.

My nervousness building, I kept looking to see what else I could find. In one of the corners were piled two sets of steel manacles. I picked a set up and examined them. On the cuffs, as well as spiraling down the length of chain, were etched silver, magical restraining symbols. I whistled. Runes like these were only used to bind the most powerful of supernatural beings. It took an impressive amount of magical energy to forge cuffs like these and even more so to ensure they worked on a reasonably powerful being. Whoever used them was the John Holmes of magic. They were packin’. That they left them behind was even more an indication of power. You just don’t throw away things like these.

While hesitant to take them with me, worried their owner might change his mind and come looking, magical restraints like these were hard to come by. Besides, I’d be lying if I said an image of a naked Scarlett, chained to the wall of my bedroom with these babies didn’t spring to mind. The stir in my pants made my choice that much easier. What can I say? I’m a dog. Woof.

As hard as it was, pun intended, I got back to business. I picked up the second pair and slung them over my shoulder. With nothing more to examine inside, I left the office. Outside, I glanced around the rest of warehouse, but couldn’t see anything else that might be related to the breach. Believing I’d seen everything I was going to, I started for the exit. I didn’t get very far.

Just as I reached the end of the clearing, I heard voices coming from the docks. I clutched tight to the manacles to keep them quiet, and ducked around the back of the office. From there, I ran toward the shelves at the back of the warehouse, hoping the office walls would block my retreat. I got lucky. Sort of. I made it to the shelves, but without any merchandise, there was little to hide behind. I crept back into the shadows and dropped to the floor. Prone, I listened as the voices came closer. A moment later, the speakers popped into view.

Through the open front door, two men strolled into the warehouse. I didn’t recognize them. The taller of the two was dressed casually in loose-fitting jeans and a dark flannel shirt, a light jacket overtop. He was wiry thin except at his torso where he was abnormally thicker. He must have been wearing a vest.

The second, who couldn’t have been any larger than five-six, was dressed a little more professionally. He wore a pair of black slacks and a white buttondown shirt. He, too, wore a light jacket over his stocky frame. He probably had Kevlar underneath too, but it was hard to tell. Both were clean-shaven with shortcropped, military-style haircuts. Both were armed. While I couldn’t see their guns, I could tell by the way they walked they were carrying. There’s a certain swagger men affect when they’ve got the reassurance of a firearm and the will to put it to use. These guys had it in spades.

I held my breath as they walked toward the office and looked about, scanning the gloom. After a minute or so, the short one called to someone still outside where I couldn’t see.

Seconds later, an older man entered the warehouse, his cowboy boots clicking as he walked. He had long, wild gray hair with a matching beard, which rested heavily on his chest. I couldn’t help but picture Santa Claus. I caught myself looking for reindeer. He wore a loose-fitting earth-tone shirt and blue jeans that did little to hide his bulk. At about six feet, he easily weighed two hundred eighty pounds, but it was clear by how he moved it wasn’t fat lurking beneath his country couture. He had that big, bad biker look to him. The kind of guy you just don’t want to fuck with. And there I was.

He walked casually up to the other two, his narrow eyes taking in the scene. He started to say something, then went silent. His eyes widened. Right then, I felt the almost imperceptible tingle of a magical scan.

He knew I was there.

Without hesitation, he pointed me out, shouting to his goons to get me. I felt so unloved. It took them but an instant to orient on me, each fanning out with his gun drawn.

Since there was no point waiting to get shot, I popped up, letting the manacles drop to the floor as I drew my own guns. I didn’t wait for a clear shot, I simply started blasting. Stuck in the back end of a warehouse with no cover, I wanted them on the defensive. It worked. The little guy ducked behind the office without firing a shot. The wiry one snapped off a couple quickies as he scrambled to find shelter in the darkening warehouse. He wasn’t even close to hitting me.

The wizard stood his ground and glared at me. He was a confident fellow; too confident for my liking. I aimed at his chest and pulled the trigger. I saw a flash of sparks as the bullet struck an invisible barrier, deflecting away before it could hit the wizard. I sighed. No wonder he was so confident.

He walked forward with a smile, his hands held out as if to imply no threat. I knew better. The stocky goon ran over and positioned himself behind the wizard, taking advantage of the old man’s shield. Pretty smart of him. Thinking it was time to get moving, I left the manacles where they lay-my inner perv screaming obscenities at me the whole time-and drifted off Page 58 toward the darkness. The same direction the other goon had gone. I didn’t get far before the lights came on.

The wizard had cast an illumination spell and the whole warehouse was suddenly bathed in a yellowish glow.

I ducked down to make myself a smaller target, the wiry goon only about fifty feet to my right. He leveled his gun when he saw me, but didn’t shoot. I held both of mine out, one aimed at the goon, the other the wizard for all the good it’d do me.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not welcome here,” the wizard said with a southern twang. He came off calm and calculating despite the drawl. He knew I was more than just some random trespasser.

“You work for Baalth? I can sense his stench on you.”

Damn he was good. “Hardly,” I answered, kind of at a loss for words. Hard to believe, I know.

“If you don’t work for Baalth, who do you work for?” He continued to edge forward, the goon behind him drifting along with him.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter none, I reckon. But you saw something you shouldn’t have so that ties my hands. There’s only one way to go from here.”

“You know, I’m getting real sick of being threatened.” That would be the third time today. I could feel my cheeks starting to burn. “How about you tell me who you are and why you’re here since you’re feeling so damn chatty.” I get mouthy when I’m mad. It’s one of my better character flaws. I could see him mulling it over. “Why not? The name’s Henry McConnell. That there is Mike.” He pointed to the wiry goon nearest me, then gestured to the one behind him. “This here is Mario.”

His name struck a chord. “Henry McConnell, The Gray?”

He broke into a smile. “I don’t much go by that these days, but yeah, that’d be me.”

Things just kept getting better and better. The Gray had been one of Abraham’s earliest recruits. I’d never met him or even seen a picture, but I’d heard stories. None of them good. He was there when the pro-Armageddon forces went after DRAC the first time. From what I’d been told, he held his own. Pretty damn impressive, all things considered. Unfortunately, more so for me than him, he turned out to be an opportunist with little loyalty to anything but his own self-interest. When Abraham needed him the most, he hitched a ride out of town and disappeared. He’d picked an interesting time to reappear.

I kept my attitude in check, the best I could, while I weighed my options. Once again, I was way out of my league. That seemed to be an ongoing theme lately.

“Well, Henry, I’m not really looking for a fight, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.” I took a slow step backward, angling to keep as much of the shelves in the way as I could.

“Not so fast.” He matched my retreat with a step of his own. His staring, blue eyes seemed to look right through me. “Since you say you’re not with Baalth, which I tend to believe, how’d you find this here place? You didn’t just stumble onto it. You had to have been clued in somehow.” His smile got wider. “There’s not a whole lot of folk with power enough to spot the dampener wards I set up or who’d need to send a mutt to check it out. So, if Baalth didn’t send ya, Abraham must have.”

Powerful and smart. Shit. The look on my face must have given it away.

“Well, howdy. I’d heard rumors DRAC had reformed, but could never prove it one way or t’other. This’ll make the boss’s day.”

He could only mean Asmoday. I was in it deep and sinking fast. “Glad I could help, but I gotta go.”

Knowing I didn’t stand a chance going head on with McConnell, I chose the lesser of two evils. I went after Mike. I dove forward firing. A professional, I hadn’t surprised him. He dodged to the side and returned as good as he got. Almost. My first shot him dead center in the chest. I heard his breath billow out, but knew his vest would hold. My second, however, caught him in the neck. He gurgled and fell back, clutching his throat. His first shot whistled past my ear. His second slammed into my shoulder just as I hit the end of my dive. Unfortunately, the chain shirt I was wearing was great against blades, but it didn’t do much to stop a bullet. It ripped right through it. I let out a groan as I tumbled off balance and slid into the shelves, coming to stop with a crash. I jumped to my feet as soon as I stopped moving. Though the wound hurt like a good case of the clap, I’d had worse. Wounds that is, not venereal diseases.

Although…

Never mind.

A little disoriented by the fall, I looked for McConnell and company. I spotted them just in time to see Henry finish the final flourish of a spell. His hand flashed a brilliant gray and a split second later it hit. It hit hard too. Like a Mack truck without brakes hurtling down a San Francisco street, a wave of force smashed into me. I went blind from the pain, my thoughts scattered about my mind like so much detritus. I flew backwards, crashing through the metal shelves. I felt the first couple as they snapped, banging against my head and shoulders, but the third, fourth, and fifth were just a vague blip on my pain radar. The sixth and seventh didn’t even register. I also didn’t notice when I’d hit the ground nearly forty yards from where I’d been struck. I did kinda feel the nearest shelves topple down on me, but just barely. Good thing they weren’t too heavy. I pushed them off and sat up, suddenly noticing the spreading stain of blood across my hips and crotch. My head clouded by the impact, I frantically checked for wounds. There were none. I checked again, feeling myself up as I wondered how I could be bleeding yet not injured. It took me a second, but the light came on, however dimly.

The vial. The fall had broken the tube of Lucifer’s blood. Just great.

Now contaminated, the quickly drying blood was useless the minute it was free of the vial. My ace in the hole was nothing more than an embarrassing menstrual stain on the front of my pants. Knowing how little of the precious fluid I had left, I almost cried. The sound of a bullet bouncing off the shelf behind me caught me mid-sniff and reminded me I wasn’t alone. I shook my head, trying to rid it of the cobwebs. They didn’t seem all that interested in leaving, but I didn’t have time to argue. I had to move.

I crawled to my feet, my bruised and battered body complaining the whole time, the nerves coming back to life. I saw Mario working his way toward me through the wreckage, McConnell at his back. The light in the room had faded, but I couldn’t tell whether the illumination spell had ended or it was just my eyes. I figured I’d worry about that later. I raised my gun to take Page 63 a shot and realized my hand was empty. Disoriented, I looked to the other hand. It too was missing its gun. Hell of a time to lose both weapons. Without thinking, something I do so often it’s frightening, I grabbed a chunk of twisted shelving and hurled it at my pursuers. While far from a perfect throw, it was close enough for government work. McConnell and Mario sidestepped the awkward projectile easily though. I just stared at them as Mario raised his gun. I found myself wishing I had one of those. Fortunately, my instincts took over where my brain left off. I heard the crack of the pistol and saw the flash, but before my mind could figure out what all that meant, my body dove for cover. I barreled through the mass of broken shelves and tumbled out the other side as Mario’s bullet pinged somewhere behind me. The sound clicked something on inside my head and the fog started to clear. Through it all, something felt weird about the whole situation. It felt surreal. Not right somehow.

I moved off further through the maze of shelves, deeper into the darkness, doing my best to circle toward the front entrance. Mario and McConnell cleared the debris and followed, veering off to keep me from reaching the exit. The goon popped a shot off here and there as they followed. They rang out through the gloom, ricocheting nearby.

Once the gears in my head found their rhythm Page 64 again, I felt sure the darkness was natural and not some reflection of my damaged skull. I presumed that’s why Mario had such a hard time hitting me in the minimal cover of the warehouse. But again, something seemed off. His shots seemed hurried, desperate almost. As I thought that, he fired off a few more rounds in my general direction. It was like he hoped to get lucky. Not on the first date, buddy.

I worked my way around another shelf and nearly shit myself when I tripped over Mike’s body. Focused on McConnell and Mario, I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was. I stifled a nervous laugh and relieved Mike of his gun. He wouldn’t need it anymore. It wasn’t the supernatural slayer my piece was, but it’d do for now. I searched him for spare rounds and came up with a couple of cartridges, stuffing them in my pockets and scurrying off as I heard my pursuers closing in. A few more shots pinged nearby, drawn by my movement. I kept my head down and crept in the direction I remembered the door being. Through it all, I still had the sense of something wrong. Right then, it hit me.

When McConnell arrived, it had been all confidence and overwhelming superiority. Now, I didn’t get the same sense. Mario popped off shots almost at random, trying to hit me in the dark while McConnell hadn’t done anything since he knocked me across the room. Don’t get me wrong, it was a hell of a shot, but it was far from fight-ending. He’d even let the light spell drop, which was more a detriment to him than to me. Why would a wizard who once stood his own against a horde of raging demons and angels rely on gunmen to take me out?

He was holding back on purpose.

Or maybe he wasn’t.

Indecision is a hobby of mine.

It was time to test a theory. I took off my shoes, set one aside and tossed the other in the general direction of the exit. It landed with a quiet thud, but it was enough. I heard a hiss from the darkness followed by the rapid crack of gunfire as three quick muzzle flashes split the dark, illuminating Mario’s position. Gotcha. I took a moment to aim, then double-tapped the trigger.

Mario cried out as the first bullet struck him, presumably in the vest. His cry was cut short as my second hit with a wet thwack. There was a thump followed by the clack of his gun as they both dropped to the concrete floor. In the blackness next to him, I heard a gasp, then the slap of booted feet running. I oriented on the sound, realizing McConnell was running away from the exit, further into the warehouse. Thrown off by his choice of directions, I held my gun out in front of me and chased after him as fast as I could, dodging through the maze of shelves.

There was a loud boom as something struck the Page 66 corrugated metal roof of the warehouse. I stopped and looked up just as a huge section of the roof was peeled back as easily as a piece of aluminum foil. A brilliant light suddenly illuminated the warehouse, shining down through the hole. Blinded for only an instant, thanks to good genetics, I could make out a shape in the center of the glow.

And what a shape it was.

Scarlett floated toward the floor, her wings trailing behind her, more a manifestation of her power than a physical set. She looked every bit the avenging angel as she descended, Everto Trucido clutched in her hand. The only thing that could have made the moment more majestic was if she had been wearing a skirt. Suddenly, I remembered what I was doing before my libido kicked into overdrive and looked again for McConnell. The room bright with angelic aura, I saw him just as he reached the warehouse office. He flung the door open and hurried inside.

With no idea why Scarlett was there, but grateful for her presence, I shouted for her to follow as I ran for the office. As I neared it, a green light exploded inside the tiny building, seeping out through the door and broken windows before it faded. Unsure of what happened, I held my gun out before me and whipped the door open.

The room was empty.

“Damn it!” I shouted as I ran around the back of Page 67 the office, looking to see if McConnell had slipped out that way. He hadn’t.

“He’s gone,” Scarlett said, sheathing her sword. I wondered if Captain Obvious needed her cape.

“Where the hell did he go?”

Scarlett walked up behind me, glancing into the office. She shrugged. “He used the circle to transport himself away. He could be anywhere.”

I growled, having not realized the ritual circle could be used as a makeshift gate. I thought McConnell was running low on energy, but his having to use the residual magic of the circle to escape meant he was on empty. I could have taken him out had I been faster. Damn. That would’ve earned me one hell of a pat on the back from Abraham. Now, a hole in my shoulder and a headache were all I had to show for it. Fortunately, all that would fade fast. The bullet was already being pushed to the surface as the wound healed beneath it. Irritated, I turned to Scarlett. “What are you doing here?”

“I went by your house, but you weren’t there. I saw the map and figured you’d be at one of the locations marked on it. It didn’t take much to find you from there.”

“So you just broke into my house? Does no one have any respect for privacy anymore?”

Scarlett smiled. “Given how I arrived to find you under attack by Asmoday’s men, I’d think you’d be more grateful.”

“I guess it’s too late to add ‘thou shalt not break and enter’ to the list of commandments, huh?”

She just laughed, more at me than the joke. I shook my head. “Anyway, since you’re here, you can help me. Tell me what that circle was used for.”

I pointed to the office.

“Besides helping your bad guy get away?”

I took a deep breath and held off a second before I answered. “Yes, besides that.”

With a look of feigned indifference on her face, Scarlett went inside the office. She no doubt wanted to know just as much as I did, maybe more. I could see it in her eyes. Pretending patience, I stayed at the doorway as she dropped to her knees in the circle, focusing. I watched as she rocked back and forth, reaching out. The wave of her senses washed over me like tendrils of her hair tickling my skin. I tried my hardest not to be aroused. It wasn’t enough. What can I say? I’m easy. Unlike my mystical sense, which has all the subtlety of a jackhammer on crack, Scarlett’s could peel away the layers of supernatural occurrence like a fine-tuned MRI machine. She could easily pick out the faint traces left behind by wizards, which I would have missed, their footprints buried in the blurry mass of magical stimuli. Her sensitivity had a downside though. She felt everything so much deeper than I ever could. I saw her green eyes go wide. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth as her senses dropped. She collapsed. I raced to her side. Her breathing was labored and her whole body shook.

“You okay?”

She took a moment, slowing her breath, before she answered with a tentative nod.

“What did you see?” I asked, helping her to her feet.

She rubbed at her eyes as if to wipe the vision away. “There was an angel held here.” Her shaking hand pointed at the circle.

I looked to the piles of melted flesh and a shiver ran down my spine. I felt cold. Numb. I knew the ritual had been elaborate, the manacles and dampeners a sure sign, but I would have never thought Asmoday capable of capturing an angel. It put things into perspective. You see, while the old world demons like Asmoday were once angels, they lost a part of their power in the fall. It was the cost of their betrayal. That power was spread amongst the Angelic Choir, ensuring a measure of equilibrium against the Demonic Horde that bolstered its ranks with allies both supernatural and human. With Armageddon hanging over our heads, it was never good to see the balance shift toward the dark. At least now it made sense why McConnell was so short on magic. The capture and torture of an angel had to be exhausting, even with a demon doing most of the heavy lifting.

“Do you know who it was?”

Scarlett shook her head. “No, but I can feel his torment. His agony infests the very air. I can taste it with every breath.” She looked like she was gonna be sick.

“What is there to gain from this?” It was too much of a coincidence for this not to be related to Asmoday’s attempted coup against Baalth, but for the life of me, I couldn’t see how the two were connected. Neither could Scarlett. “I don’t know.” Her answer was little more than a whisper. Her eyes flitted about the room, taking everything in. “Whatever he intends, Armageddon is the final goal. He never forgave God for his fall.” She said the last as if it explained everything. I guess to her it probably did. She raised her hand, moving it through the air as if waving in slow motion. “The dimensional wall has been savaged here. It would take little more to collapse it completely.”

Not entirely surprised, considering my reasons for being there, I extended my senses to better see the damage. “Jes-” I cut myself short knowing how sensitive Scarlett was about using the Lord’s name in vain.

The invisible barrier separating the dimensions from one another had been badly battered. It felt like it had been mauled by a bear. A very, very, very pissed off bear on PCP. Deep psychic slashes had shredded Page 71 its substance, leaving the core bare to the supernatural world. I could sense Hell seeping through from the other side. I’d never seen such carnage.

“We must stop Asmoday,” she proclaimed, her eyes steely, staring off at nothing. I could feel her rage. Seeing the opportunity to aim Scarlett, not as if she really needed the motivation, I took it. “Abraham thinks Asmoday intends to take out Baalth.”

That got her attention.

“I think it’s in everyone’s best interest Asmoday be put down. Baalth can wait for another day.”

Her eyes narrowed and locked on mine. “Do you do this for Abraham or for Baalth?” She could be quick sometimes.

I saw no point in lying. “A little of both, but I’m mostly doing it for myself.” I shrugged as her face went slack, disappointed. “I know it’s hard for you to see the gray between the black and white, but the truth is, Asmoday is the greater threat to the world. Baalth, for all his bluster, is in no hurry to bring about Armageddon. I don’t put it past him to hold it in reserve as a sort of end game scenario, but he fancies himself the new Satan. He wants his own little Hell on Earth and he’s not gonna bring about the end if it doesn’t benefit him. Asmoday has no such qualms.”

She sighed. Though she tried to keep her face neutral, she had to have known she was being manipulated, but she couldn’t find a flaw in my logic.

“You win. I’ll leave Baalth alone, for now.” She raised her eyebrows to emphasize the now. “Do you have a plan to deal with Asmoday?”

I shook my head. “Not really, but I’m not known as the brains of the organization.” I raised a finger to ward off the snarky reply I saw forming on her lips. “I’ll hand over whatever I have to the Council and they’ll decide the best way to go about handling him.”

“Let us be on our way.”

“Not so fast. I have one more location to check out. I’d hate to think I missed something we could use to put Asmoday away. Care to tag along?”

Impatient for revenge, but seeing my point, Scarlett nodded.

“Okay. Let me round up a few things, then we’re on our way.”

I worked my way back to where McConnell blasted me and retrieved my guns and shoe. I then went and found my other shoe and grabbed the manacles before returning to meet Scarlett at the door. She looked at the cuffs with one eyebrow raised.

“And just what do you plan to do with those?”

A million and one fantasies flashed through my head in the span of an instant. Every one of them had something to do with her naked and a metric shit-ton of Astroglide. I just smiled.

“Nothing.”