Risen: The Demontouched Saga (Book 6) Read online

Page 3


  The carnage lasts nearly a minute leaving us with one less way out of the state. From the rubble I hear the faint screams of people trapped under the ruins. Without hesitation I run forward to help.

  I come up on a small red car pinned against a pile of construction materials with a woman banging on the windshield, trapped thanks to a large concrete boulder blocking the other door.

  “Get back!” I yell at the woman, pulling the pistol out of my belt. Once the woman is in the back seat, I fire at the window.

  It takes me a few solid shots to get anywhere with the windshield as the tempered glass is designed to not shatter under these circumstances. Thankfully, I don’t need to remove all the glass, just a big enough hole for her to get through.

  After putting six bullets through the window, I stomp my foot on the glass to expand the hole.

  “Come on!” I shout, holding my hand to help the woman through. She struggles, cutting her exposed hands and knees as she climbs through the shards of glass, but at least she is in one piece. I point to the area I last saw Sara and tell the woman to wait over there. An act she doesn’t hesitate to do.

  One down, hundreds to go.

  As the dust settles I make out the survivors all working together to pull the ones fortunate enough not to be under the bridge out. Under the center, between the two connecting bridges that make up the Poplar I see the crushed remains of the box trucks with a large block of the bridge sitting on the top.

  I feel my stomach drop knowing Nal was under there. Part of me wants to go over to help, but I know I won’t do any good on my own. That’s when I see it. A backhoe sitting in the construction zone near the river. I’ve never driven one before, but today seems like the perfect day to learn.

  Sprinting down the street, I jump over anything that gets in my way.

  Cars.

  Debris.

  Even a soldier giving CPR to someone he pulled out from under a car.

  If it was in my way, I leapt over it or juked around until I open the door of the backhoe.

  Sitting in the seat, I find the ignition on the console just left of the controls without the key. I franticly search the cab, looking for any place they may have stashed the keys. Part of me knew finding the tractor here was too good to be true. I wouldn’t leave the keys around on a piece of equipment I wasn’t around to watch either.

  I look around, trying to find the office. Construction sites like this usually have a place for the managers to oversee the project. When I see the single-wide trailer peeking over the top of the debris, I know I have my spot.

  I sprint back alongside the rubble, looking for a place to cross, eventually finding a small passage. What we call the bridge is actually a series of interconnected ramps and highways all on a short span of land. It merged three different highways together to cross the Mississippi in this one spot. Not the smartest idea, but I never had to deal with the traffic personally.

  One of the entrance ramps below the main bridge was still intact though it is not clear for how much longer as it is holding two large slabs of the road on top. The only other option I see is to go further west to pass near the stadium as that stretch of the bridge still looks solid. Not wanting to waste any more time than I have to, I cross underneath.

  Even crossing quickly, the bridge whines and pops under the extreme stress. The ramp may be holding now, but it wouldn’t for much longer.

  Reaching the other side, I run to the trailer a short distance away only to find it locked. I would have been surprised if it wasn’t. This door, however, leaves me a much better solution.

  I take a few steps back to get a running start. Steeling myself for the blow, I rush forward, kicking the door open with a loud pop. Two steps into the building I find what I am looking for. A cork board on the wall with a few dozen hooks screwed into it. Most of the hooks are empty, but there are a few with keys tagged with equipment numbers. I do the logical thing and take them all since I didn’t take the time to look.

  Outside the door, I see the support beams of the lower ramp cracking, the whines getting louder. Not wasting time, I break into a full on sprint, nearly tripping myself on the gravel lot.

  Underneath, the sounds get much louder as the support beams give sending dust and rocks falling around me. The ground rumbles violently as I follow under the bridge as the supports give out behind me. My mind races, sending my legs into another gear to get me out of the carnage faster.

  The bridge behind me lets out a loud pop when I clear the other side. I don’t stop to look behind me, even as a large boulder rolls to my left. I just keep my head down until I get back to the backhoe.

  Leaping into the door I left open, I shove the key into the ignition. With a turn of the key, the engine whines and moans as it sends a plume of black smoke into the air, shaking me violently, but doesn’t start.

  I give it two more tries, eventually slamming my head down into the steering wheel in frustration.

  I nearly jump when the door to the tractor opens.

  “Let Bill handle that, Mitch,” I hear Nal say as he peeks his head through door.

  My head darts to the side from the sound of his voice. My eyes widen when I see him, still alive and in one piece.

  “How did you…?”

  “I was out watching the battle,” he says. “We had them reeling, but they held strong near the cranes.”

  I look back at the pile of rubble on top of the trucks. “We still need to save Stevens.”

  Nal nods. “And the others.”

  - 5 -

  “We can’t afford to pull that many men back,” Stevens says weakly as we pull him out of the wreckage.

  He was one of the lucky ones who didn’t end up being trapped underneath the main parts of the bridge. Lucky, in his case, is relative considering his legs look like hamburger. Someone thought enough to strap belts around his legs to help slow the flow of blood, otherwise he would be long gone. It’s amazing enough he is still awake.

  “We have time,” Nal says, helping the others lift him into a stretcher.

  “Time?” I say. “They’re nearly done with the portal now.”

  When Nal looks at me, the bags under his eyes visible underneath the fine layer of soot. He has had a lot on his plate with helping Uriel run the camp and prepare for the attack.

  “It took them nearly twelve hours to set the last one,” he says pointing to the cranes. “They aren’t even close to ready for this one.”

  He may seem confident, but it doesn’t put me at ease. Once they get the remaining two pieces in place, our chances of surviving this mess drop to zero. There isn’t even a sliver of hope for humanity if that happens.

  We help the soldiers load Stevens in the back of a pickup truck along with a few others. The plan is to take them to a nearby hospital where there might be a chance to treat them. Saying there are any medical supplies left by now.It beats leaving them out here in this mess at least. Between the debris and the nearby battle, this isn’t the safest place to treat a patient.

  “Why would they hit the bridge?” I say, sitting down on a block of concrete. “There’s no way they would have known you would set up there.”

  Nal shrugs his shoulders before sitting down at my side. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been infiltrated.”

  I nod. The events at the hotel almost seem like a distant memory by now even though they aren’t even a month old. I still find it hard to believe that Belial was working under our noses for all that time.

  “They weren’t planning on hitting us,” Uriel says walking up from behind a nearby car. “They wanted to stop transportation across the rivers so we can’t get reinforcements from the east.”

  “Michael,” I say, forcing the name through my lips.

  She nods. “They knew Israfil’s little diversion wouldn’t keep him away forever. With the bridges down, he will have to find another way around.”

  “He’s an angel,” I say. “I know why you don’t take your true forms here on
earth, but why wouldn’t he do it just to fly across?”

  “He could,” she says. “But he would need to leave his vessel.”

  “And thanks to the rules, he can’t just possess the first person he sees,” Nal adds in. “That means we are on our own.”

  “What do you need me to do?” I ask.

  Nal shakes his head. “You’ve done more than enough already. Stay by me and help me run this thing.”

  “You know that’s not my style,” I say, smiling. “Where do you need me to go?”

  “I forgot about your suicide complex,” he says shaking his head. “Can’t take you anywhere without you trying, or at least offering, to kill yourself.”

  There is an awkward silence between us once he says that. Just by being here on the riverfront I’m risking my life. But shit, by not being here I’m also risking my life. The stakes are just as high whether I’m here fighting or relaxing on the beach in Cabo. All things considered, I’d rather go down trying to fight this thing.

  “Azrael is pinned down just north of the portal,” Uriel says. “You could swing around the city and give him a hand.”

  Nal looks at her with a measure of surprise. “And you are just now telling me this?”

  “You have enough on your mind,” she says. “Besides. He is in no danger.”

  “It’s going to be hard enough to stop that portal from opening with two angels out there fighting. Damn near impossible with one unable to contribute.”

  “I got him,” I say. Azrael has come through in the pinch for me more times than one. If there is even a slight chance I can get him out of there, I’m going to do it.

  “He is pinned on the north side of the Eads Bridge, behind the debris,” she says.

  “Sara is up by the car with a woman I rescued from one of the cars. Can you keep an eye on her while I take care of this?”

  Nal nods. “She can help with with the rescue effort.”

  On the other side of the highway I see Sara hunched down next to the woman I saved earlier. The woman is sitting on the ground leaning on the car, her hands and knees bandaged using part of the spare outfit Sara keeps in the trunk.

  “She going to make it?” I say, kissing Sara on the forehead.

  “She’ll be fine. Might need a few stitches below her knee.”

  The woman smiles up at me though quickly lowers her head when I grab Sara’s hand and lead her a few steps away.

  “I have something I need to do,” I say. “Az is in trouble.”

  She looks up at me, tears in her eyes. “I don’t want you to go. But, I know you have to.”

  I kneel next to her, hand caressing her cheek. “I don’t have to do this. If you want me to say, I will.”

  She shakes her head before placing her hand on mine. “If Azrael is in trouble, you should go help him. You know he would do it for you.”

  I nod my head. He has. Not every day you get the opportunity to return the favor to an angel.

  “Nal said he can use your help tending to the ones under the bridge.”

  “Did he now,” she says with a smile. “Maybe it will keep me from worrying about you.”

  “I’ll be back,” I assure her. “I always come back.”

  She walks to the back of the car and opens the trunk. “Then do something for me,” she says.

  “Anything.”

  She reaches into the car and pulls out one of my outfits. “Wear this.”

  I should have seen that coming the moment she walked back there. I’m not about to fight her on this though. If wearing that makes her happy and calm, then it’s the least I can do.

  “I missed seeing you in that,” she says, placing the cassock in my collar.

  I find it hard to believe, but I almost miss wearing it. It takes me back to a time when things were much more simple. A time when I didn’t have to think, only react. Just the mindset I’ll need down close to the battle.

  “If the shoes fit…” I say before planting the wettest kiss I can on her. I know she wouldn’t want me to admit it, but this might just be the last time I see the gal. I want to have a fresh memory of her in case that happens.

  She opens the car door for me in a reverse case of chivalry. When I’m in the seat with my seatbelt attached, she leans through the window for one last kiss.

  “I love you,” she says through a smiling face, though her eyes give the truth away.

  “I love you too.”

  I adjust the mirrors, noticing the porcelain wedding doll laying in the back seat.

  “You should take this,” I say, holding it out the window.

  She shakes her head. “You can keep her safe too.”

  I put the doll in the passenger seat, buckling it up so it doesn’t fly around.

  Sara steps back from the car when I put it into drive. I blow one last kiss to her when I step on the gas.

  Three blocks later, the tears start to fly. I know the mess I’m about to step into. This life has been one hell of a ride, but I’m not ready for it to be over. Even after all the screw ups and bad decisions, I want to be here.

  - 6 -

  I turn onto Washington with the radio blaring. With everything else that has gone one, I’m glad to be in the one car with a decent CD collection. Even if it’s my own.

  This side of town is predominantly commercial with most of the buildings taking advantage of the nearby river and highway traffic to do business. I used to know a few guys who worked in a hotel here somewhere, I never remember which one. Doesn’t really matter, he’s probably long gone by now. Pushing the thought out of my head, I cross under the highway and to the edge of the bridge.

  The Eads Bridge is in the same condition as the Poplar, and the MLK Bridge just north of here. Getting a better view from the ramp, I see they didn’t bother to destroy the whole bridge. Just the ramps leading onto it from this side. It’s likely they took the time to do the same on the other side. The whole plan seems like it would be a waste if another force could perch on the bridge to rain fire down upon the demons. Or if Michael could just jump in the river close to the bank.

  I grab the rifle Sara left in the back with the spare magazine and jump over the concrete guardrail protecting a nearby parking lot to the north. From there I jog across the pavement and into the street behind the old Drunken Fish, a place I used to frequent on the rare occasion I came downtown. They had probably the best fish in town and good beer to boot. The best part was they were only a few blocks from the Metrolink station, so I didn’t even have to drive in.

  From this point the road slopes downward until you reach the road before the riverfront. I can never remember the name of the street, only that it crosses in front of the arch.

  I see Az long before reaching the bottom, hunched back against the debris of the bridge with three soldiers wearing camouflage military outfits. They are all armed with automatic rifles though they are unable to take a shot thanks to the bullets hitting the surrounding rocks.

  On the other side of the rubble, I see a dozen men unloading their weapons into the remains. I always wondered if the demons would defend the portal on their own. Now I had my answer.

  I drop off a street early to take a position on a nearby parking garage hoping it will give me a clear enough shot of the assholes on the other side.

  My point of attack is a brick wall next to a metal guardrail. It should give me a solid place to brace the weapon while giving me a fall back point in case they notice me.

  With my butt on the ground, I Look down the scope of the gun. From this spot I have a clear shot to over half the men below. It isn’t ideal, but if I can take out one or two, the others may relent enough for Az’s group to get back into the fight.

  I take my time scanning the group, looking for someone who seems to be in charge. With Az and his group not in immediate danger, it makes more sense to hit someone like that. It takes me a few solid minutes of searching, but I find my mark when a man holding a walkie-talkie steps out from behind the bridge.


  He takes a few steps back, sitting on the nearby safety chains to have his conversation. I carefully line up my shot, taking aim at the center of his chest. Knowing this may be my only chance, I pull the trigger.

  The moment the gun fires, the other’s attention is on me. Bullets fly to my position, forcing me to duck behind the brick wall, but not before I saw my target hit the ground.

  The sound of the gunshots ricocheting off the nearby brick has my ears ringing. With my back against the brick I cover my ears while leaning my head into my chest to avoid breathing in the dust. The shots last a few moments before they finally die down.

  Regrowing my nerve, I lean around the corner to see what’s going on. Below I see Az and his group, now exchanging fire with the others. Not wanting to miss out on all the fun, I lie flat on the ground to take a few shots.

  With the two sides exchanging fire, finding a suitable target is nearly impossible. No sooner than I get a shot lined up than they move out of position or duck back under cover. The only consolation I have is knowing I’m not wasting any ammunition.

  It isn’t much of a comfort.

  Finally, near Az I see a man lingering out in the open much longer than the others. He is crawling over the piles of debris, likely trying to catch the group by surprise. He reaches the top of the pile and pulls a pistol out of his pocket before blood blossoms out of the center of his chest.

  Slowly but surely, our odds work into our favor until they are left with three guys I haven’t seen poke their heads out in a while. Either they are dead, or they are too afraid to move. Neither answer would surprise me. Guys like that are big and bad when they outnumber you, but quickly change their tune when the tables turn.

  “Three,” I shout, poking my head above the cover of the parking garage floor. Below Az nods before leading the charge over the top.