Cade’s War

by Jason Frederick Myers

Part 1 appears in this issue.

conclusion

Near the back of the angel battalion, a commander raised his hand, and a tiny golden halo appeared over his head, the size of a wedding band. A squadron of Eagle Eyes took flight, rising like a group of stealth bombers. They flew above the battle, raining down a barrage of spears with deadly precision. The pierced demons fell to the ground, disintegrating into tiny black clouds of singed smoke. Cade took his first breath in what felt like forever.

More hissing came from overhead. Cade followed the sound, his eyes widening in horror. There were demons on all sides above him. Cade’s father had installed the shelves a while back to hold the circular track for his model train. A critical oversight on Cade’s part.

The demons appeared from inside and behind the train cars shooting flaming forked arrows at the outflanked angels. A couple of Eagle Eyes took direct hits, spiraling down in uncontrolled tailspins. They hit the hardwood floor at full speed, exploding into brilliant clouds of gold dust. The angels fought back, returning fire. A salvo of spears penetrated the train, the toy set resembling a mechanical pin cushion.

As Cade watched, a brave Eagle Eye charged the train, twisting and bending in flight to dodge an onslaught of enemy fire. The angel pulled a demon from the train and dropped it. The enemy soldier landed in Cade’s open-top fish tank with an anticlimactic sizzle. The battle raged on two levels. Cade took in the scene, a lump in his throat, his palms sweating.

The bed began to move. A thunderous rumble bellowed out from beneath it like a plain full of bison. The noise grew louder, the bed shaking as if controlled by an unknown force. The floor beneath Cade’s feet trembled. The bobblehead on the desk shook manically, as if possessed.

Another horde of demons roared into the light from beneath the bed, not on cloven feet but riding on the backs of sinister wolf-like beasts. The devil dogs galloped on all fours, razor-sharp claws scratching the floor, mangy black fur dancing in the lamplight. They moved as if compelled by the devil himself, glowing red eyes unblinking, breath bursting from nostrils as small flames of hellish fire. Their riders urged them along, shouting from beneath helmets and armor made of skull and bone. They wielded long medieval flails swinging the spiked balls and chains wildly overhead. Cade had never seen them before. The dogs bounded forward, tearing through the angel ranks with great force and casualty.

Cade sprang into action, grabbing a controller from the desk and maneuvering its switches. A toy monster truck came to life on the far side of the room. The truck rolled forward, its white doors adorned with gold-colored wings, the words Demon Slayer written on the truck’s hood. Cade hit the throttle, and the truck shot forward, its rubber wheels gaining traction on the wooden floor. It slammed violently into a group of demonic infantrymen, bouncing over them like speedbumps and sending them back to whence they had come. Cade smiled.

Behind the truck, the dogs were regrouping. A rider pointed at the truck, and they began to charge. Cade maneuvered the controls, turning the truck quickly. Both sides shot forward, locked in a dangerous game of chicken, a joust to the death.

A sharp pain stabbed Cade in his right shoulder. A demon had landed on him so close to his face that he could smell the stench of its sulfurous breath. The creature smiled and brought the pitchfork down again into his shoulder. Cade cried out, dropping the controller and swatting the demon away.

The truck’s wheels locked up, sending the vehicle fishtailing wide of its target. The truck flipped on its roof, crashing forcefully into the opposite wall. Batteries exploded from their compartment rendering it lifeless.

Cade retrieved the water gun from his back and squeezed the trigger. A steady stream of holy water struck a group of demons nearby with a steamy hiss, reducing them to small clouds of vapor. The battle continued, clanging metal ringing out, spears and arrows raining down like war’s precipitation.

Something moved at Cade’s feet. The demons were on him again, tying a makeshift rope of mismatched socks around his ankles. He thought his mom would be relieved to see the missing socks, though she’d never believe who had taken them. The demons pulled the rope.

Cade fell, landing on his back, his helmet wedged awkwardly between the dresser and bed. The water gun rattled across the floor in pieces, water flowing from the reservoir tank like a river of lava melting any demons in its path.

Emboldened by his fall, another group of demons charged. His feet bound, Cade reached desperately for the flyswatter on his waist but found nothing. The horde moved closer. Cade held his breath, his fingers frantically searching for his last remaining weapon, head trapped, eyes unable to assist.

After an eternity, his fingers found the swatter’s handle. He closed his eyes and pulled, his senses keenly aware of his incoming attackers. The swatter came free. He opened his eyes to find the horde inches away, the leader pointing a spear directly toward his left eye. Cade braced for impact.

A spear from above impaled the leader through the chest, dropping him lifeless to the floor an inch from Cade’s head. An Eagle Eye whizzed by overhead. The rest of the demon group began to scatter.

Cade unbuckled the helmet strap and freed his head. He sat up and attacked, gripping the fly swatter with white knuckles and disposing of the remaining group of demons with a few swift strokes. They disappeared in a cloud of dust; their remains reduced to ash and ember. Cade untied his feet and studied the scene.

The devil dogs continued to wreak havoc. They raced across the room, spiked balls and chains crushing the shields and bodies of the angel ground forces, the beasts tearing life and limb in their powerful jaws.

Thinking quickly, Cade retrieved a tennis ball from the desk drawer. He lifted the ball and whistled. The dogs halted, turning their attention to Cade. He whistled a second time and tossed it. The dogs gave chase, following the ball, much to their riders’ dismay. It bounced on the wood floor and came to rest in a pool of water from the water gun. The dogs followed suit, running into the pool. They began to disintegrate, melting into a black tar-like goo.

The angels pushed the remaining demons back, gaining the advantage. Cade smashed a few more fleeing demons. The angels now possessed superior numbers.

The sound of broken glass sent his heart racing. A firework erupted through the bedroom window like a colorful fire-breathing dragon. It whizzed by inches from his face, piloted on top by two smiling demons. The projectile hit an unsuspecting Eagle Eye head-on, then exploded against Cade’s junior dart board on the far wall. The firework fell lifelessly to the floor, a burnt stick and tube all that remained. Damn demons, Cade thought. He picked up the firework and soaked it in the water.

* * *

“Cade, you okay?” his father asked through the window.

Cade peered out through the thin veil of curtains. Mitch Sinclair stood outside holding a grill lighter and a can of beer. He was wearing a ridiculously oversized red, white and blue top hat on his head.

“I’m okay,” Cade replied.

“I’ll come take a look,”

“Nothing’s broken but the window. I put the firework in water,” Cade answered.

Outside, a neighbor called Mitch’s name, distracting him. “All right, we’ll clean it up later.” His father said. “Come on out. Food’s gettin’ cold.”

Cade nodded.

Inside, the angels had the last remaining demons pinned in the corner. One of them desperately jammed a pitchfork into a nearby power outlet. The power flickered out, the room falling into darkness.

Cade heard his father curse outside. “Dammit, did someone hit a pole?” The power came back on. “Never mind, we’re good!”

Cade scanned the room. The demons were gone, their streak broken. The angels cheered, weapons raised overhead. The commander stepped forward, a halo reappearing over his head. He tipped it graciously toward Cade like a hat. Then, the angels were gone.

* * *

Cade peered out of the dusty warehouse window, his face weathered, baby blues now belonging to that of a mature man. Almost twenty years had passed since that epic battle, and life had gone on. Obligations and priorities had changed. Balances had been left unchecked.

Cade turned his attention to the large group of people standing in the room, others like him, with the ability to see. They too, had once forgotten their great responsibility, a purpose only they could fully understand. Cade adjusted his helmet; the gear he now wore no longer meant for riding a bike or playing sports, but intended for lethal military combat. In front of the group, the tiny angels stood ready, row upon row of shimmering white and gold.

Outside, glowing red eyes appeared at the nearby tree line, the old forest behind them dark and foreboding. Whispers rose, carried by the wind.

Cade raised a long rifle above his head, a brown leather guitar strap with the initials M.S. fixed at both ends. “To victory!” he roared to the delight of the crowd.

The large bay door was opened. The army of humans and angels charged out into the bright light of the abandoned field as their demonic enemies sprang from the trees. Another battle was beginning, and although bullets replaced water and drone replaced toy trucks, the most significant difference was the enemy, for their army had not grown in numbers but in physical size. The demons charged forward, kicking up mud in the wet field, not as the tiny enemy Cade had known as a child but now each standing over six feet tall!

The two armies met in the middle of the field, the pain inflicted by sword and fork now much worse than a needle stick, the consequence of victory much more significant than a broken appliance or fallen Christmas tree. But no matter the day’s outcome, many more battles would be fought. More victories and defeats, gain and loss. Thrill and agony. The sun would rise and set on many more battlefields, with the goal always balance. The war continued. It always would.