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Jacks shot up as fast as he could, swinging his blade wildly at the pair of demons in hopes of somehow pulling them off Steven. The blade caught one of the Dark Ones on the leg, lopping off its limb above the scaly knee. Jackson’s suicide rush was enough to startle the demons for a moment, and they let go of their hold on Steven, retreating to higher sky. Jacks swooped down and grabbed the Angel. Instantly, he could feel the warm blood pouring off his body. He didn’t have time to check if he was breathing.
Jacks flew out to the nearest ship, dropping quickly to the deck, where he carefully laid the Angel down. But he feared it was too late. Steven’s face was ghostly pale, marred with blood and angry wounds. Jacks could now see that his torso was torn and bleeding from the demons’ claws. One arm hung uselessly at his side, forced into a direction it should never have gone, hanging only by a few tendons. Steven’s wings had been mangled, his body armor shredded, and blood gushed from his exposed chest.
Steven couldn’t speak. His eyes roamed helplessly as Jackson stood above him. Then, in a slow yet sudden motion, he gripped Jackson’s arm with his good hand. Jacks was surprised by how much strength Steven had left in what he was sure were his final moments. Jacks put his hand on the Angel’s cheek in a gesture of comfort.
“Everything’s okay.”
But the gesture was in vain. Steven was dead.
Jacks didn’t have much time to contemplate the gravity of this loss. Looking up, he saw Mitch, flying with at least three black demons in pursuit. If he didn’t want his best friend to end up like Steven, he needed to get moving.
• • •
“They’re all over me!” the panicked voice screamed on the radio.
Cursing, Tom looked out the cockpit of his F-18 down below the clouds. They’d been fighting tooth and nail for the past fifteen minutes, and the demons just kept coming. He strained to get a good look through the chaos, and then saw Spader’s jet flying through the sky at a blistering speed, trying to outrun the soldiers of evil. It was as if a swarm of locusts had descended upon him.
“They’re too close, Spader! I don’t have a clear shot!” Tom shouted over his radio.
Suddenly, in his peripheral vision, Tom saw a streak emerge and then smash into the middle of the flock of demons. The blur resolved into a female Angel wielding a Divine Sword. The surprised demons roared and dispersed, dive-bombing away from the attacking Angel and leaving Spader’s jet clear to escape.
“Damn, that was close!” Spader’s voice hollered through the radio as Tom watched him pull the jet up and shoot straight into the darkening clouds. Tom made sure Spader was clear before he checked his bearings again.
“Ah, hell,” Tom said.
To his right, down toward the emerald and blue ocean, Tom could see the demons regrouping and were now turning on the Battle Angel who had saved Spader.
“I’m going in.” Tilting his control stick down, Tom screamed the jet toward the skirmish, spiraling in between two Dark Angels darting for the battle lines.
The Angel was flying as fast as she could, a multiheaded demon right on her tail. It looked as if the demon was gaining. With a quick bank, Tom dove to the left rear of the Dark Angel, before it had a chance to turn around and see what was coming.
The missile lock overlay in his helmet screen went red. “Bingo. Game over.”
The rocket tore off the side of the F-18’s wing with a whoosh, searing the sky with its trail. It crashed into the demon with a tremendous explosion. Stunned and writhing as it was engulfed in the fiery payload, the demon tumbled through the air, trying to get its bearings.
It would be enough time.
With incredible agility the Battle Angel had somersaulted around, changing direction midair above the ocean. Her sharp wings were set, the black body armor sleek against the light of the disappearing sun. Now, leaning in as resolutely as she could, she flew with the point of the Divine Sword leading the way. Tom saw the blade glint as it spiked into the dazed demon’s main, noxious head. The beast screamed and a burst of light exploded out of the sword, blinding Tom for a moment. When the pilot’s vision recovered, he saw the dead Dark Angel, falling like a rag doll lifelessly into the rolling waves below, dying flames sputtering off its body.
The Battle Angel had already disappeared in pursuit of more demons. There were just so many to fight.
• • •
Once the jets had been launched and the demons met, chaos had emerged in the skies above the blue Pacific. Maddy’s premonitions weren’t going to be helping anymore. The attack was on.
Maddy felt worse than useless. She felt helpless. Her frequencing had become one enormous jumble of panic, fear, and adrenaline. She couldn’t focus on any of the fighters, even though they were just a couple of miles away.
She paced back and forth in the control room next to the captain, listening intently to the radio conversations, watching the radar screens and the clear plastic board tracking the locations of aircraft that almost resembled a game board. She would scan the horizon, trying to make sense of everything that was going on, then she would go back to pacing again.
Whenever Tom’s voice came over the radio, Maddy would stop and strain to listen.
“Stop fidgeting, Montgomery. You’re making me nervous!” Captain Blake said.
They had lost only one jet, but some of the other aircraft carriers in the battle line had suffered far worse.
Things were looking grim on the horizon. Too many demons kept coming. The dark clouds were growing closer and closer in spite of the gritty air and sea stands the Battle Angels and humans were making. One of the great battles of history was unfolding. Unfortunately, the good guys were losing.
Then something strange started happening. Maddy felt her intuition kicking in, felt it loosening. She noticed it first as she looked to the darkening sea and the battle raging in the distance.
