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Lines of Shadow: Sequel to Somewhere Between	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 4117 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy or any related character and make no money off this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Prophecies
- 2-Reunion
- 3-Artifact
- 4-Inferno
- 5-Flightless
- 6-Valhalla
- 7-Fate
- 8-Broken
- 9-Seduction
- 10-Unleashed
- 11-Traitor
- 12-Overrun
- 13-Vows
- 14-Escape
- 15-War
- 16-Humanity
- 17-Ragnarok
- 18-Judgment
- 14
- 15
- 16
- John

There are more survivors than I'd thought. We catch up to the other gods almost eight blocks away from the Brooklyn Bridge. They're split into their respective religions, the Norse clustered together with Odin at their head, the Greek standing behind Athena, the Hindi behind Shiva, and so on. At first, I think they might be drawing up new plans, but as we get closer, I realize that they're arguing. Arguing isn't quite the right word for it. They're screaming at each other.

From what I can discern, some want to stay and fight, but most of them are screaming that Earth is lost. They're going to abandon mankind. The black-eyed god Ek Chuah is the loudest advocate for leaving. His booming voice is followed by hundreds of affirmative noises as he shouts that they should begin fresh on a new planet, that there's nothing worth saving here.

On the other hand, Odin and his son Thor are yelling that the gods must stand by their creations to the bitter end. Athena seems to agree with Odin, but it's hard to tell exactly what any of them are saying.

"They can't leave," Lazarus says. "There are billions of people on this planet. They might not all be innocent, but they don't deserve the fate they're leaving them to."

My stomach is churning. If the gods flee, I don't know what we'll do. We can't fight all of Hell with a handful of people. We need to use the strength of the gods to its greatest extent, getting them out of the tightly clustered battlefield and tapping their potential. Without that, the face of the Earth will be swarming with demons. I grab Red's arm, not sure what we can do.

Anubis moves forward into the crowd. He seems to grow taller as he pushes through them, until he's towering over even the giants. At the middle of the argument, he opens his mouth and lets out a growled shout far louder than any other voice, "Cowards!"

Silence spreads through the gods as Anubis continues to grow. Those closest to him actually fall back several steps. When he's almost double the height of Odin or HB, he finally stops. His snarl flashes teeth as long as my arm. I know it's just an illusion, but I feel a shiver race down my spine.

"You're all cowards!" Anubis snaps, lunging towards the Mayan gods for emphasis. Most of them stumble against each other to get farther away from him. "When Hell breaks loose, overwhelming your people, you tuck your tails and run. The being who has fought hardest to save the humans is a demon! His actions put yours to shame," he motions at Red.

HB stiffens a little as the attention falls on him. I know he doesn't agree with what Anubis is saying. He probably thinks that his actions have caused all of this death. There's no doubt that a good number of these gods think the same thing.

"Don't do me any favors," Red murmurs, his gaze stuck on Anubis.

With the gods' attention comes backlash. The first one to start yelling is an Egyptian goddess with a lion's head, "Him? He's part of the problem!"

Her words don't get a chance to settle before others are shouting too. "He led the hoards!"

"His arrival brought Hell out-"

"He opened the gates!"

Anubis's lips curl up and his ears go flat against his head. His roar is so loud that my ears start ringing, "Enough!" Only once they've stuttered into silence does he continue, "There are eleven keys to the underworld in our possession. Which of you marched back into that city to try and close the gate?"

I look over at Red in shock, my fingers tightening on his arm. "Is that where you were?"

"Yeah," he says at his feet.

Walking through that city was a nightmare, an insanely risky endeavor that Anubis and I were lucky to come out of alive. Red knew his chances of surviving were slim, that's why he didn't wake me up, why he left on his own. He must feel the weight of his guilt more than I realized.

I press my face against his side, wanting to ease him, but not knowing how. His arm comes up around my shoulders and he brushes my forehead with his lips.

His whisper is so quiet I almost miss it, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I ask as I turn my face up to him.

"For leaving you after I said I wouldn't."

Before I can even think of a good answer, Anubis is talking again. His voice almost incomprehensible through the rolling growl he can't seem to control, "He went in there to save your people, to save mankind because their own gods will not."

As his words sink in, those who were shouting the loudest to leave are cut down by embarrassment. Torque and Anubis flick their ears in the direction we came from. Other gods lift their heads and turn that way, but only those with large ears. I know exactly what they're listening to, the scratching of thousands of claws on cement and the screeches and howls of thousands of voices. The hoard will be on us in minutes.

I take advantage of the humbled silence Anubis has created and step forward, "If we hone their numbers down so we can take on a handful of them at a time, we would be able to destroy them without getting overrun. Surely one of you can make a wall of some kind, like what Persephone can do with the thorns." I point at the Eastern bank, towards the navy yard, and then over at the Western bank. "If we form the wall from one side of Brooklyn to the other with a hole in the middle, we can flush them down Flatbush Avenue. It's not that far, only about half a mile of wall if you angle it."

For a heartbeat, they all look at me like I'm a moron, and then Athena says, "He's right."

Her battle plans grow on top of mine, her experience with tactics far exceeding my handful of years training at Quantico. She lays things out quickly and precisely and the gods and goddesses of the world move to get into position. Athena grabs my arm before I can leave to join the others.

"I want you to help me lead the troops. Take a position on top of one of the buildings or fly if you so chose," she orders, offering me a small gold medallion on a chain. "They will all hear you if you wear this."

I blink at her, dumbfounded. "Why me? They didn't listen to me a minute ago. Why would they when I'm giving orders?"

Red and Torque stop and turn, watching the exchange. I can tell from Red's slight scowl that he doesn't like what he's hearing. If I'm leading any kind of troops, I'm a target.

Athena slips the pendent over my head, "Your commands come from me, that should be good enough for them. As far as why I've chosen you, you're intelligent and have a squadron of battle angels to guard you." As she speaks, she shoves a finger at Michael's angels. They must've been standing at the edge of the crowd, because I didn't notice them until the others had walked off.

"Like they did a hell of a lot of good five minutes ago," Red growls. "Where the fuck were they when John was about to get ripped apart?"

The one standing roughly in the center of the group answers without a drop of emotion, "We were given no order to act."

"You need orders to save him?"

I put a hand on Red's chest, moving between him and the winged group. He's positively bristling and I don't want him to launch himself at them. The demonic legion will be on us in moments so we're going to need his attention focused on that.

The angel who spoke before continues to answer for the group. I guess he's the squad leader equivalent. "Michael never wanted us to act without order. He didn't want us getting in the way."

Red inhales to bark out something else and I move my hand to his mouth to stop him. His little grunt of surprise and annoyance vibrates my fingertips.

"What is your name?" I ask the angel.

"Verstael, my lord."

"Okay, Verstael, I want you and your angels to stick close to me and guard my back."

All twelve of them bow slightly as Verstael agrees, "Yes, my lord."

We don't have time for me to coerce him into calling me John, so I'll have to make do with 'my lord', as weird as it is. I can hear the demons now, their screeching and moaning and shouting is getting very close. Just a few yards away from us, walls of ice crawl up the sides of the buildings, filling the streets like the world's fastest glacier. They rise above the line of the buildings, merging into one solid mass of opaque blue. They rise until they're ten or twelve stories high. An unhappy shriek overwhelms all other sounds as the approaching hoard finds its path blocked. I glance behind us to the florist shop where Freya is hiding. She says she can keep those walls up for days if need be. I hope she lasts that long.

Athena slides a helm with a tall plume of red feathers onto her head and gives me one final order, "Watch out for the lightning." She runs off to join the others.

We're out of time. I wind both my arms around HB's neck, standing on tiptoe so I can reach, and press my mouth to his. The kiss is short, but passionate, filled with my fear and my desperate hope that we'll get through this. His stone hand curls possessively around my back, making it difficult to pull away. Red's tongue slides wetly against mine and I swear I can feel his desperation too. I wish we could stretch this moment to make it more than it is.

I regretfully twist out of his hold with a breathy "Be safe" as I take off. Red's eyes follow me into the air, his features creased with worry. I'm not quite past the highest point of the ice wall when he shouts, "I expect you home for dinner."

The joke makes a half-formed smile slide onto my face, but it's gone the moment I see what's on the other side of the wall. The streets between the ice and the bridge are jammed with pale, writhing bodies and beyond that, at the river's edge in Manhattan, is Lucifer. He has one massive foot in the water, steam curling up from around his claws. The river is literally evaporating where he's touching it. He doesn't seem to be moving forward, just standing there with his six remaining heads aiming towards us.

I scan the sky, but the archangels are nowhere to be seen. The fiery clouds from above the city have spread across the water and are now colliding with coal-grey clouds that are bursting with lightning. Diving in and out of the newly formed storm are large golden birds called Skylords. They're from the great plains of America herself, creatures that can create storms great enough to destroy civilizations.

On the tallest building in the area is Thor. He holds his hammer skyward, assisting the giant golden birds with their storm. White-blue bolts of electricity arc from his hammer into the sky and back down again. Wherever they hit, blackened, fleshy craters appear in the masses. Another storm god with golden skin is beside him. He presses his hands together and brings them apart, lightning twisting between his fingers. When he slaps them back together, the lighting falls to the ground and thunder booms.

Gods with bows and arrows are still climbing into their respective places on top of the roofs surrounding Lucifer's army. I hear Athena's echoing cry of "Fire!" just before arrows fly into the hoards in waves. The demons fall in hundreds, but are replaced by thousands. Their leading edge finally reaches the unyielding wall of ice, crashing against it like the surf breaking against a cliff. Many try to scrabble up the slick surface with their claws, others just follow the line of ice to a small gap. Just as I suspected, they move towards the gap in the ice like moths towards fire. They can see it above the buildings and think they'll be able to get through, but they're headed to where our heavy hitters are waiting.

The ground troops are comprised of the biggest and strongest of our numbers. They line the small opening through the ice four rows thick, gods like Torque and the massive bear-god Kaiti, Odin and the Hindu goddess Durga, her many arms gripping many weapons. Red is at their core, surrounded by war gods and giants. I see him roll his shoulders as the demons scramble towards them. Rain starts falling from the heavy clouds as the first of the hoard reaches the gap in the ice.

I tuck my wings and dive a little closer, my battle angels following the move as tightly as they can without running into me. The water soaks into my feathers, making me heavy and cold. The only weight I can shed is my armor. I force it back into the disk so I can stay aloft more easily. I circle the buildings, studying the masses of demons. The head of the army is comprised almost entirely of imps, but the larger monstrosities are not far behind them. Even bigger things are lumbering off the Brooklyn Bridge. Giant, hulking mounds of muscle that stand as tall as a city bus, I can tell they're going to give us trouble.

"Target the giants," I shout at Thor, pointing at the base of the bridge.

My voice doesn't sound any louder to me than it does normally, but Thor looks right at me and nods, aiming his massive hammer at the bridge. Streaks of lightning crackle through the air, slamming into the masses still crawling off the bridge. Imps go flying and are reduced to blackened corpses in an instant.

Only one of the larger demons gets hit in the first stream of electricity and he doesn't go down. The bolt makes a direct hit on his shoulder, but it's about as effective as using a taser gun on an elephant. Though it burns his flesh, it just makes him mad. He charges through the imps with a bellow, crushing the smaller creatures underfoot.

Both Thor and the golden god I think might be called Indra focus their power on the charging behemoth. I circle the area, watching with growing despair as strike after strike hit the creature. He continues his charge down Flatbush Ave, taking out light posts, cars, and anything else in his way.

"There's a very large demon headed your way," I advise the heavy-hitters at the gateway.

Durga breaks away from the line. Moving as smoothly as if she were dancing, she spins her eight blades around her body and cuts a path through the crushing hoard of imps. After she has slaughtered several dozen, they back away from her, leaving a ring soaked in blood right in the path of the charging demon.

I shift my weight back so I can hover, holding my breath as I watch the hulking monstrosity getting closer and closer to this tiny goddess. "Isn't anyone else going to help her?" I shout at the defensive line. Only problem with this amulet is that it only goes one way. If they answer me, I can't hear them.

With a cryptic smile I can barely see from the air, Durga waits until the demon is almost on top of her before she attacks. She rolls her body around the demon's hippo-thick legs, all of her blades slashing into his flesh with a speed that no human eye could follow. The demon collapses on his knees in a fountain of blood and Durga leaps nimbly onto his back, running up his spine and leaping off. A glimmering strand of metal whips out behind her. As she falls, she tucks into a rapid flip that wraps the metal around the giant's throat.

Once on the ground, she gives the line a tug and it rips through the demon's thick flesh. The head hangs on for a moment, the creature's mouth working slowly like it can't quite figure out that it's dead, and then the flesh separates. Durga puts a curved sword away and catches the head in her empty hand, hoisting it into the air with a battle cry that sends all the nearby imps running.

They don't stay gone long.

Durga runs back for the line as the hoards close in around her. The others separate to let her in, HB smashing his stone fist into the group of imps on her tail. The masses of demons continue to throw themselves at the living wall even though they have to climb over mountains of their dead to get to the gods standing between them and the rest of the world. Imps do seem to have some sense of fear, but I suppose the drive of finding more human flesh to eat is more extreme than their desire to survive.

Pumping my wings hard, I rise into the air so I can get a better view. The electric ozone makes the hairs on my arms stand on end, probably the hair on my head too. I can hear the sizzle of the storm above me. The other angels don't follow me this far up.

From up here, I can see over the rise of the bridge to the other side. The demons go on for miles. Even the streets on Manhattan around the entrance to the bridge are crammed full of them. They fill the area around Lucifer's feet and are shoulder to shoulder in Battery Park. Even if we fight these things for weeks, I don't think we can kill them all. We'll all be falling over from exhaustion before we can wear their numbers down.

"We're going to need to come up with a different tactic," I say, more to myself than anyone else. I suppose the necklace works more effectively than I gave it credit for.

Athena's voice is right beside me, though I know she's back on the ground. She must have several of these amulets floating around. "What do you see?"

"There's no end to them."

One of the Skylords darts past me with a scream, directing more lightning into the demonic army. I throw my arms across my face as the bolt passes through the air a few yards from me. The heat is searing. It's as hot as standing with the oven open when it's set on broil. No, hotter than that even. I'll be lucky if I'm not missing an eyebrow.

Athena's "Watch out" comes a bit late.

I'm not going to risk getting hit by the next bolt. My stomach jolts into my lower intestines as I dive headfirst towards the ground. I flare my wings open to slow my descent, but I'm so soaked that I don't slow much. Flapping hard, I try to regain control before I crash into the hands of a hundred-thousand hungry demons. I get close enough to see their gaping mouths turn upwards, their claws reaching for my feet.

Three hands close on my shoulders and arms and my flight path is forcefully adjusted so I'm gliding just above the hoard. A few demons that leap as I pass actually scrape their claws across the armor on my legs. I look over my shoulder to find Verstael and one of my other guardians holding me aloft. Clearly, I still have a lot to learn about flying.

The angels gain altitude easily, dropping down over a rooftop to let me go. For half a second, I think that they're leaving me here so I'll be out of the way, but I realize that it's much easier to take off from a rooftop than it is from being dropped in the air. They hover nearby, waiting for me to get aloft again.

I run to the edge and jump, flaring my wings to catch the turbulent wind. I don't go five feet when something slams into me from below. The air is forced from my chest from the impact. I slide across the roof, crashing into an air-conditioning unit. The heavy piece of equipment is knocked loose from its moorings, but doesn't yield much more than that. I might as well have hit a brick wall. White explodes through my vision as pain radiates down my spine.

The battle angels create a tight ring around me, drawing their swords. I lay still for a minute, unable to think of anything other than the agony in my skull. I shake my head and sit up as my attacker lands on the far end of the roof.

He regards the angels with a confused stare. The rain pounding us burns off of him the moment it touches his skin. I suspect he's been out here just as long as the rest of us, but he's completely dry, even his bright red hair.

"You stand against Heaven," Uriel makes it more of a statement, but the question is undeniable. His expression says that he's genuinely surprised by the idea that Michael's angels would side with anyone but them. He must not know about Gabriel's betrayal.

The battle angels keep their gazes diverted from Uriel's wrathful look, but they don't move away from me. I get my feet underneath me and manage to stagger to them. My vision swims a little. Something hot slides through my hair with the rain. I reach up to press two fingers to my scalp, pulling them away to find blood. I'm not all that shocked.

"Our loyalty lies with Michael," Verstael responds to Uriel without raising his eyes.

Uriel spits through grit teeth, "That is not Michael."

"Our loyalty lies with Michael."

"That abomination is not Michael," Uriel screams, all the water that's within a foot of him evaporating with a sharp hiss. Before Verstael can say it again, Uriel snatches an arrow out of his quiver and notches it, aiming it at me.

The arrow flies faster than any of them can move. I flinch as it strikes. There's no pain. Confused, I look down to find Red's stone hand spread out in front of my chest. The arrow ricocheted off the stone and skittered away across the rooftop. Hellboy is panting and dripping blood from a number of shallow scratches. He must've barreled through the hoards when he saw Uriel attack me.

"Hellboy," I whisper, shocked that he was even able to keep track of me while fighting against those things.

"You guys suck at your job," HB grates out. "And you, why aren't you wearin' your fucking armor?"

It snaps around me the moment he mentions it. I probably should've let it back out after Uriel attacked me the first time, but I was too busy trying to shake the throb in my head to think about it. I'll be hearing about that for years.

Several of the angels lunge for Uriel, but he blasts them back with a burst of fire from his palm. HB grabs me and turns his back to the flames, shielding me. I hear a wet thunk and Red's body tenses around me. His nostrils flare with pain. I duck under HB's arm just as Uriel pulls the knife out of his back.

"No!" rips out of my throat.

Blades slide down both my hands and I drive them towards Uriel in a quick thrust that he ducks. He brings up the dagger to block a slash I had aimed at his stomach. Metal clashes against metal, sending sparks into the air. I try not to give him the time or space to pull out a different weapon, attacking him from every angle with the two swords. Uriel steps back and I follow.

The other angels stay away from the fight, giving me room. I know Red's probably looking for a way to jump in, but that strange calm is pulsing through me, filling my mind with techniques and strategies I've never learned. I see his quick jabs with the knife coming and know exactly how to block them, breaking my defensive move and lunging in before he can recover. My sword catches his shoulder, ripping through the thin, white fabric of his robes.

Uriel's feet reach the edge of the roof. His calves bump against the short safety wall made of brick. His wings flare to help him balance, the red tips of the feathers going almost black as the rain soaks into them. I lift both swords over my head and bring them down. He blocks one with his dagger, the other he grabs with his bare hand. Blood gushes from his palm, running in rivulets down his arm.

His expression is hard to read, brows drawn together and up in anger and confusion, his mouth partially open with shock. We only stand in a stalemate for a breath or two, but I swear we study each other for longer than that. He's no longer burning off the rain before it can reach him. Water runs down his face and makes his clothing drape heavily across his narrow frame. The white fabric quickly becomes translucent as it gets drenched, clinging to his heaving chest.

"Michael?" he whispers, his eyes flicking back and forth as he studies mine.

His expression hardens, all his other emotions disappearing beneath rage, rage that doesn't seem to be directed at me. Uriel shoves me back with a shout and sends a burst of fire in my direction. I pull both forearms up, make a shield out of my gauntlets. The fire rolls around me harmlessly.

When I retract the shield, he's gone. I run to the edge of the roof and spot him flying low across Hell's army, headed for the gap in the ice. He gains altitude long before he reaches the gods blocking his way, gliding over the wall and disappearing on the other side. I don't know where he's going, but I don't like it.

I turn back to the battle angels, separating six of them off with a flick of my hand, "You go follow him, find out what he's up to out here. The rest of you stay with me."

They bow with a "Yes, my lord" and take off towards our defensive line.

I cross over to Red and try to get a look at his wound, but he's got his flesh hand pressed over it. "You alright?" I ask, even though I know he's not going to give me a straight answer.

"If the fucker wanted to sell my kidney on the black market, he could've just asked," he starts to laugh and winces. I stick him with a glare and he finally admits, "I've had worse. Didn't hit anything vital."

"That you know of," I mutter as I peel his hand away from the deep gouge. It's low on his back, off to the right and an inch or so above where his kidney should be. I think his assessment is right. I don't think it hit any organs. "There are healers at the gate, right?"

He nods and starts to say something, but my ears perk on something else. I turn my head to follow the sound, stopping on the stairwell leading down into the building. The door is hanging off its hinges thanks to Red kicking it in a few minutes ago. Howling voices float up the staircase, an uncountable amount of sharp-edged shouts and screams.

"Red, did they follow you into the building?"

Hellboy mutters, "Crap," just as the imps scurry into view.

They cover every conceivable surface inside the stairwell, coming up the stairs themselves, crawling across the walls, and a few make their way onto the ceiling before they scramble out onto the roof. When they're in the open, they come at us with mouths open wide and eyes wild with hunger.

I throw orders out quickly, pointing at each angel as I give him instruction, "You and you, get him back to the line. Tell me when he's clear. The rest of you are with me."

Five of us launch ourselves at the demons to give them time to get Red off the roof. Fortunately, only imps seem to have found their way up the stairwell. We spread out in an arch to keep them from getting past, taking the imps down by the dozens. Blood pools, thinning as the rain continues to pound down on us. It makes the water as dark as fresh pitch. I don't pay much attention to the others or to Red's complaints as the angels haul him out of harm's way, focusing only on the fight at hand.

"We're clear, my lord," one of the angels shouts.

"Alright, everybody go! Get off the roof!" I yell, whipping both my swords in a wide arc to clear the area around me before I run for the edge of the building.

Something sharp digs into the edge of one of my wings, yanking me back. Hot needles of pain lance through my wing to the bone. Screaming, I make a wild jab at the imp that's managed to catch me. He lets go, but other leap onto me. I try to hold my wings aloft as they reach for them with greedy claws.

One succeeds in snagging a handful of feathers and all the imps near him turn their attention from me, to him. They fight over the feathers, ripping at the flesh of the owner's hands to get at them. It gives me the break I need. I roll off the building and open my wings.

Once I'm steady in the air, I look forward to the line of gods protecting the gap. My stomach tightens in a vice. The ice is melting away, fast. Already the walls are several feet shorter. My only thought is of Freya. Something must have happened. Thick black smoke is curling into the sky just beyond the wall.

A shot of adrenaline courses through me, giving me the boost I need to fly faster, harder. I dart ahead of the two angels carrying Red and shoot through the gate. Tucking my right wing, I plummet towards the street. The angels I sent after Uriel are lying all over the sidewalk, one flung across a SUV's shattered windshield. Forests of arrows stick out of their chests and backs and wings.

The florist shop is burning. Flames have already reached the top level of the four-story building. Windows are broken out on every floor from the heat, smoke billowing through them. It's barely sprinkling here. Even if it was raining as hard as it is on the other side of the wall, I don't think it could stop this burn.

I land as close to the entrance as I dare, shouting, "Freya?"

Something on the second story explodes and fire belches through the windows. I take a few steps back, peering into the bottom floor in hopes of seeing any sign of Freya. A figure moves within the blaze. He walks through the orange and yellow tongues blocking the entrance, stepping into the street without a single singed hair.

Uriel throws a blackened circlet at my feet. It pings loudly as it bounces off the cement, rolling past me. "Whatever treachery you're trying to trick me with won't work. My loyalties are with Heaven. You may have stolen Michael's armor, but you are NOT him."

"I never said I was," I utter softly.

He backs through the burning doorway, vanishing in the flames as Red and the others get through the gate. The angels have to release HB a few feet from the ground because he's struggling like crazy. He lands easily, running to me.

"Have you seen her? Did she make it out?" Red starts asking long before he reaches me.

I kneel down to pick up the intricate circlet, brushing my fingers over the woven strands of metal to scrape some of the soot off. I look up at Red, letting my eyes tell him everything he needs to know. His jaw tightens. Punching a compact car hard enough to send it skittering across the road, Red lets out a long stream of curse words, some of them in languages I don't know.

I can't wait for his anger to ebb before I say, "We have to get them out of that gap before the wall is gone. They're going to get flanked."

"We can't run."

"Red, we don't have another choice."

- TBC
- 14
- 15
- 16
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Lines of Shadow: Sequel to Somewhere Between