“It is time.” Raphael looked to the ceiling as though he was listening.
Sister Karen took a deep breath of cinnamon.
91 – Lucifer
Felon glared. The Devil had shaken off his shaggy disguise and exposed his native form. The Fallen’s body like his brethren’s was a masterpiece shaped by a perfect hand. Its structural design was the epitome of strength and beauty. Its color reflected the natural tones of creation. The facial features were a refined version of the harshly drawn hobo Felon met in the sewers, but recognizable.
Now the ruby lips were sculpted, drawn forward in an insolent half-pucker. Lucifer’s dark brown almond-shaped eyes had enormous pupils that made them look black. They reflected orange and green from the yacht’s running lights. He stood as tall as Felon, and was dressed in black homespun tunic, wool leggings and boots. Overall, his body was robust, raptor-like, made more so by the long black wings that grew out of his back. The feathers were glossy, casting a blue gleam from their edges. He carried them folded down the length of his spine.
Felon locked his knees against his vertigo-he imagined driving his fingers into the Fallen’s eye sockets and pulping his brain.
“The war is almost over.” Lucifer mused, and his face broke into an impish smile. “Thank God! ”
Felon scowled at him, glanced at the rail. Water continued to splash up from the clot of Swimmers. There were hollow thumps and the yacht shifted against the dead weight.
“Things have gone well.” The Prince of Darkness took a step toward the bow to gaze along the Street of Walls. “It’s a pity I’ll miss the finale.”
“How long?” Felon voiced between gasps. His boot was full of blood.
The Devil turned to him, puzzled.
“How long have you planned this?” The assassin slumped against the rail. The half-light from the ship’s running lights made Lucifer a silhouette. The assassin drew a ragged breath. A groan came from the ship’s hull.
“My fall was just the beginning.” Lucifer smirked.
“The first rebellion.” Felon looked at the shifting deck. Blood was pooling around his foot.
“The only rebellion,” Lucifer said with a flicker of eyelash.
“Allies on the inside,” the assassin hissed around his pain.
“Michael.” Lucifer’s eyes showed delight. “We planned it together. You should have seen our final battle. Oscar winning performances.”
“You convinced others.” Felon focused on his breathing. He had to slow it down, to slow his heart, to slow the bleeding.
“My followers: yes, Michael’s: Never! But only about the war, not the plan.” Lucifer flexed his wings, moved closer to Felon still. “After my fall, my brethren in Heaven had the time to truly study the future our Father had planned for them.”
“Pride,” Felon mumbled, his vision blurring. He blindly swung his head. The sunken street was filling with bodies. The boat was moving forward. Dead fingers squeaked against the hull.
“ Godlike pride.” Lucifer laughed. “Our Father intended us to be servants, messengers, guardians. We can fly, Felon and read minds. We’re immortal! Michael and I knew it would just be a matter of time before our brothers saw the error of siding with God. And the Revelation of St. John made Michael’s job much easier. Imagine, serving God from the beginning of time, wiping the runny noses of humanity, carrying an endless stream of messages and warnings to the Second-born fools, only to be rewarded by being judged their equals at the end of the world.” Lucifer laughed. “Michael was the most human of my brothers, having developed a taste for your women over a series of undeclared trips to Nod. A weak spot that I exploited as I brought him into the rebellion.
“We needed Gabriel. He was a proud fool who was glad to see me go and he could have caused trouble if he got wind of the continuing rebellion.”
“So, Michael involved him, and others in a second rebellion.” Felon flexed his arms. Some strength was left in them. One of his hands went to his throat. It was torn and numb. The deck shifted underfoot. “Gabriel had no idea you were involved.”
“No.” Lucifer smiled like a cat. “As Angel of Death, his powers could be quite useful.”
“But you never truly conspired with any of them. All pawns. Even Michael…” Felon looked up at the buildings. The yacht was inching forward. The street was white with corpses.
“Of course.” As Lucifer chuckled his feathers rattled. “You don’t think I would be fool enough to challenge God in open combat and expect to win? He created the universe!” A look of disdain twisted his features-tightened into a churlish pout. “And I was his favorite and they hated me for it. Those fools gladly turned against me when I was no longer in his favor. It was a pleasure to bring them down.”
Felon sighed. “And Michael’s death?”
“I always wanted to kill him.” The Devil smiled. “It was just convenient that Gabriel took things into his own hands.”
“Now?” Felon spat-his hatred was boiling to the surface again.
“Now, we await the end of the world.” He smiled, looked thoughtful. “Not by my hand, no. My tin soldiers are quite efficient once they’re wound up.” Lucifer looked along the length of the boat. “Ah, that’s better!”
Felon realized that the boat had been moving imperceptibly-whether by the Swimmers’ actions or by the Devil’s. It was inching its way along the flesh-choked Street of Walls. Fallen had dominion over the earth, perhaps the water too.
“I want to see this.” Lucifer gestured to him. “Come along.” He walked the length of the deck toward the bow. Felon staggered after and joined him at the forward rail. Water splashed. Hissing came up from dead mouths.
“Humanity’s final night. At least the humanity you know.” Lucifer snarled self-satisfied. “The world of human slaves is about to be born.” He chuckled. “Even now, missiles have launched. They’ll destroy the City. The Prime is an all or nothing kind of guy and he hoped to reach his shelter in time.” Lucifer sighed. “He had the foresight to target the centers of the competing primes the world over. They have already detected his launches, and have fired their retaliatory strikes. It is the end.”
Felon felt nothing. The yacht inched its way out of the jumble of collapsed and broken-down buildings. The Swimmers crowded around it. Their weight heaved it toward the open. The City of Light slowly came into view. Its lights formed a cloud of pale orange haze around the buildings. In the sky beyond it, burning white and red comets conflicted. Explosions echoed and thunder rocked the water as supersonic aircraft made attack runs. In the center of the City, lights burned over the surface of Archangel Tower.
“I’ll step out when the show starts.” Lucifer chuckled.
“Why?” Felon’s hands gripped the rail.
“You don’t care.” Lucifer’s self-satisfied state would not let him resist. He laughed. “The Scroll of the Lamb must not be opened.”
“Revelations.” Lucifer smiled as Felon said it.
“Exactly. Angelic or not, my brothers understood that Judgment Day would summon the Judge! He would take their Principalities from them and make them common. So imagine my predicament. How will I be judged?” Lucifer’s wings quivered. “I didn’t want to find out.”
“In the City?” Felon gestured across the water.
“Yes, the Scroll will be destroyed with my brethren.” Lucifer laughed with finality watching the City. “They do not expect the attack. Suicidal thoughts do not occur to immortals.”
“Humanity has it coming,” Felon said and staggered toward Lucifer leaving a bloody trail.
A heavy bullet pierced the assassin’s hand continuing an upward trajectory through Lucifer’s back. Felon couldn’t drop in time. Two more rounds punched him in the shoulder. As he fell to the deck bullets hit Lucifer as he turned.
A machine gun howled. The Fallen’s wings were ripped to tatters. Bestial, snarling-his head suddenly like a wolf’s; Lucifer roared at the gunfire. But the bullets chopped him up. Felon’s cheek was pressed against the deck. Blood poured over his shoulder and pooled under his chin. He’d landed with his head facing away from the gunman. Lucifer screamed like the damned. He raised his wings to fly but one pinion was cut from him in a concentrated blast. A final cry and Lucifer dropped on the deck.