Phillip Simpson - Rapture

He was largely ignored by the other soldiers and the few civilians present. Word had clearly gotten out about what he was and when someone did look at him, it was with suspicion. Sam sighed. Some things never changed.

Joshua and Grace had all but recovered from their injuries. When Sam had re-joined them after his meeting with the Colonel, both were sporting fresh bandages on their heads. Joshua had even had his wrist wrapped again. All three had been supplied with a cot in a curtained off area of the warehouse that served as sleeping quarters.

Grace seemed distant, obviously badly affected by the news of her uncle and aunt’s death. They had been, Sam knew, her last remaining relatives left on earth. Now she had no-one. He knew how that felt and gave her what sympathy and comfort her could offer. She seemed to channel her grief, using it to fuel her anger. There was no way, she insisted, that she was going to miss out on the coming attack. The demons would pay for what they had done to her family.

On the morning before the attack, Sam was practising with his swords when he saw Grace approach one of the soldiers who was doing weapon checks. Many weapons were laid out on the long table he was working on. He was systematically disassembling them, oiling each part and then painstakingly putting them back together again.

Sam moved closer so he could hear what was being said. He realized with a start that he recognized the man

— it was Casey, the soldier who had initially searched

them when they had arrived.

“Can I have a gun, please?” she asked.

Casey looked at her sideways. “Have you got the Colonel’s permission?”

Grace nodded. “He said he needs everyone he can possibly get for this attack.”

“Do you know how to use a gun?”

“My uncle showed me. Handguns only though. Have you got any?”

Casey smiled. “Sure have,” he said. He picked up a black side-arm. “This is the Beretta, sometimes called the M9. Standard issue for the armed forces. It’s loaded with hollow point bullets, designed to expand when they enter a body. More tissue damage, you see. They also stay within that target. That is, they don’t go through it. Less chance of hitting a friendly.”

“How does that help me against demons?” she asked.

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” grinned Casey. “Normally, hollow points have casings made of lead. We replaced the tips with iron. They do have a tendency to go through demons a bit more, so be careful.” He handed her the gun. “Do you want to squeeze off a few rounds? We’ve got a small sound-proof firing range out back.”

Grace looked at the weapon in her hands and back to Casey. “Definitely.” Sam watched as Casey led her away. He’d have to keep an eye on Grace, even though he would probably have his hands full trying to track down the Antichrist. He sensed that she was likely to do something that was driven by her urge for revenge, and it would probably be best not to get in her way.

He went looking for Joshua. His friend had been moody during the last couple of days and had hardly spoken to him. Probably reflecting on their time spent in Hell. That was enough to disturb even the strongest mind. Sam was a bit worried about him, too. Joshua, like Grace, had lost everyone important to him during the Rapture. He was very much a closed book though. Even Sam, who was accustomed to not speaking about his feelings, realized that Joshua had a lot of pent up aggression and grief. He simply did not want to talk about it.

Sam owed him a great debt of gratitude. Joshua had volunteered to come with him to L.A. No-one had forced him. Perhaps he had done Joshua a favour — it sounded like Adam and the Black Ridge survivors had been taken — but regardless, the other boy had made sacrifices for him. It was something that Sam would never forget.

Over at Joshua’s cot, Sam found his baseball bat missing. Perhaps Joshua, like him, was practising for the attack. If Sam could find him, he could probably give him some pointers. He continued to search right through the buildings that made up the resistance headquarters. They were extensive; the Colonel must have knocked down walls leading into adjacent buildings — the place seemed to go on forever.

He couldn’t find Joshua anywhere. He asked some of the soldiers. One told him that he had seen a teenage boy matching Joshua’s description down near the front roller doors some hours earlier. Sam had already checked that area.

He searched again. Still nothing.

Joshua had disappeared.

PRESENT

The armoured personnel carrier rumbled along through the streets of L.A in broad daylight. Through the firing slits, Sam could see other vehicles belonging to the strike force alongside them. Included amongst them was the light tank which was Colonel Sumner’s mobile command centre. Sam could hear sporadic gun fire from outside. They’d already encountered the Antichrist’s human forces on their way towards the Cathedral. So far, they appeared to have put up little resistance.

Next to him sat Grace and nine other heavily armed soldiers, including Casey. No one spoke. Grace wore a flak jacket that had been hastily adjusted to her small frame, and a helmet that was at least two sizes two big. Sam had helped her pad it with paper towels so that it wouldn’t wobble around too much. Her Beretta was holstered at her waist.

At the insistence of Colonel Sumner, Sam also wore a flak jacket — not from any concerns about demons, but more to protect him from friendly fire. Also at the insistence of the Colonel, he wore an army cap to identify him to his allies. Sam suspected that the Colonel just wanted him to conceal his horns. His troops were already nervous as it was; one sign of horns and they would probably shoot first and ask questions later. His swords were strapped to their accustomed positions at his back and waist.

His thoughts were still whirling following the disappearance of Joshua. He really didn’t know why his friend had left. If he didn’t want to fight, why hadn’t he just said so? No-one was going to insist that he came with them on the attack. Perhaps Josh believed that he had fulfilled his obligation to him? He’d set out to get Sam to L.A and had done just that. Now, maybe, he thought he was free to leave? If that was the case though, why hadn’t he said goodbye? Sam was a little saddened and confused by the turn of events.

He put such thoughts aside. He really would have to concentrate now. At long last, he was here to do what he had set out to do; confront the Antichrist and defeat him if he could. That was a big if, though. Despite it being daylight, Sam doubted that the Antichrist would be defenceless.

He’d checked the map of L.A before they had left. Surprisingly, the Cathedral was only around three miles as the crow flew from their base of operations, which was fortunate given that fuel for the myriad of vehicles involved in the attack was in short supply.

The Colonel had planned the attack carefully. The light tank and the APC were the most heavily armoured vehicles he had in his possession. He planned to use those to break through the perimeter of the Cathedral and into the building itself. The Humvees and jeeps were to provide support and keep the Antichrist’s human forces off their backs. Once inside the Cathedral, Sam was free to move off and confront the creature.

It was a simple plan but Sam could see no obvious flaws in it. He’d asked the Colonel why they hadn’t attacked before. The Colonel had explained it had taken this long to build up the amount of iron tipped ammunition that they would need which sounded reasonable to Sam.