Heaven came down the ocu.., p.1
Heaven Came Down (The Oculus Gate Book 1), page 1
HEAVEN CAME DOWN
Book One in the Oculus Gate Series
By
Bryan Davis
Heaven Came Down
Published by Mountain Brook Ink under the Mountain Brook Fire line
White Salmon, WA U.S.A.
All rights reserved. Except for brief excerpts for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form without written permission from the publisher.
The website addresses shown in this book are not intended in any way to be or imply an endorsement on the part of Mountain Brook Ink, nor do we vouch for their content.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.
Any scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible. Public domain.
ISBN 978-1-943959-82-2
Published in association with Cyle Young of the Hartline Literary Agency, LLC.
© 2020 Bryan Davis
The Team: Miralee Ferrell, Alyssa Roat, Nikki Wright, Cindy Jackson
Cover Design: Indie Cover Design, Lynnette Bonner
Mountain Brook Fire is an inspirational publisher offering worlds you can believe in.
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Author note
Chapter One
Summer shivered. Sitting on a rickety wooden pew, she stared at the carnage—her parents lying motionless in front of the kneeling altar, the shadow of angel wings spreading across their smoking bodies. The scene was surreal, impossible, yet the very outcome they had feared for so long.
The angel, blonde and beautiful, crouched in front of her, her face glowing. “I’m sorry you had to witness this.” Her pupils seemed to blaze. “It’s all for the best. If we are to live in perfect unity, all must agree to the common worship.”
Summer looked away. Although the angel spewed lies, disagreeing with her might incite another blast from her deadly eyes.
The angel set a hand on Summer’s knee. “Since, by law, you’re too young to execute and old enough to survive on your own, I will leave you here to fend for yourself. Just be sure to warn others to heed the instructions of the holy angels.” She rose, flew to the exit, and closed the door behind her.
Summer knelt at her mother’s side and lifted the cross she always wore, the coarse wood scorched by the twin lasers that drilled holes through her chest. She untied the leather cord and held the cross in her trembling hand. As she caressed it with a fingertip, her face warmed, then blazed. Unity. An angel’s buzzword. A patriot’s obscenity. What good was unity if everyone united around evil? It was all wrong, so very wrong.
The door opened again. Summer stuffed the cross into her skirt pocket. At the entry, framed by midday light, a man strode in and took off a military-style cap. Dressed in camo and carrying a rifle, he bent his lanky body and stooped at Summer’s side. “Do you know who I am?” he asked, kindness in his tone.
She nodded. “The resistance commander.”
His eyes, as gray as his hair, sparkled. “I apologize for arriving too late. I came as soon as I heard from our regional watchman.”
“I understand. It’s not your fault.”
“What’s your name, and how old are you?”
“Summer. I’m seventeen.”
“Old enough.” He threaded his cap through his fingers. “Would you like to join us?”
“To battle the angels?”
“The so-called angels. No real angel would murder your parents.”
“I know.” She sniffed and brushed a tear away. “But why me?”
“I need someone to help me expose them for the monsters they really are, and you’re perfect for the job.”
“But I’m just a—”
“Just a kid. I know. But if you join us, we’ll make you into what you need to be. And even if you don’t, you’re welcome to live in our farming community.”
Summer gazed again at the faces of her parents, both noble, both peaceful. They were such good people—loving, giving, and kind. The commander was right. The angels were monsters. They had to be stopped.
“I’ll send someone to take care of your folks.” He rose and extended a hand. “Will you come?”
She took his hand, and they walked out together, leaving the carnage behind.
Summer stood in a line of ten new recruits, all dressed in boots and camo. She glanced at Jack Garrison standing at her side, tall and muscular, eyes straight ahead—the portrait of courage. How could she, a scrawny teenager, ever be a true soldier like him?
She clutched the scorched cross dangling at her chest. She could do this. She had to do this. Nothing else mattered.
Commander Barks stood in front of the line and raised his right hand. “Repeat after me.”
The recruits raised their hands and recited the resistance oath, ending with, “And I swear to give all that is necessary, including my life, to rid the world of the angel scourge.”
Twenty camo-clothed onlookers applauded. Handshakes spread all around. A few greeted Summer, though no one except Jack’s sister, Trudy, asked for her name. After most had filtered out, Jack, Trudy, and their brother Ben remained, talking to Barks. Ben, speaking to the commander with a confident stance, was obviously the leader of the siblings. Although he and his wife, Kat, had been part of the resistance force for quite a while, he had joined Jack and Trudy in taking the oath. It seemed that this family trio did everything together.
When their group broke up, Barks strode to Summer and extended a hand. “Welcome to the resistance.”
“Thank you, sir.” Summer shook his hand. “So what’s next?”
Barks glanced at the Garrisons, then looked again at Summer. “Follow me.”
As they walked past the trio, Ben whispered something to Trudy. She stomped on his foot. “Don’t be a jerk. She can be trained. She’s the same age I am, so it’s possible.”
“Ignore Ben,” Barks said as they walked toward a folding table with a deck of cards on top. “In his eyes, a female soldier has to … well …”
“Prove herself?” Summer asked.
Barks nodded. “And you’ll certainly get a chance to do that.”
They sat at the table across from each other. Barks picked up the deck and fanned the cards. “Pick four and place them face down.”
Summer did so. “Telling my fortune?”
“In a way, but it’s really a magic trick.” He set a finger on one of the cards. “I need a spy who can memorize complex codes that will allow for secure communications. Therefore, this spy must become a jack of all trades.” He turned the card over, revealing the jack of spades. “You will need to be a quick study.”
He touched another of her selected cards. “I need a spy who can infiltrate angel headquarters and get close to the angels’ hive queen. She is the key to everything.” He turned the second card over, revealing the queen of spades. “You will need to learn extraordinary stealth.”
He touched the third card. “I need a spy who is beautiful, charming, physically fit, someone even a king would desire.” He turned that card faceup—the king of spades.
“But I’m none of those things,” Summer said. “I’m a skinny scarecrow.”
Barks smiled. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and you’re certainly a lovely young lady in mine.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He cleared his throat. “In any case, you will go to a training camp to develop whatever skills and fitness you’re lacking. My plan is long-term. It might take years to play out.”
He set a finger on the fourth card and pushed the others to the side. “Finally, I need a spy who hates the angels as much as any patriot in our fold.” He turned the card over, this time slowly, a slight tremble in his hand. The ace of spades now lay alone on the table. “Long ago, this card was considered a symbol of death. It means you must be willing to die for the cause, just as you swore in your oath. And since you have no living close relatives, I’m giving you the opportunity to become the spy I need.” He paused for a moment, a hint of wetness in his eyes. “What do you say?”
As Summer stared at the card, the church scene returned to mind—the angel flying into the sanctuary, demanding that those who stood with the angels exit immediately. Two dozen worshipers ran out, leaving only her parents standing firm. The angel shot both with her laser eyes, killing them instantly, a cold and callous execution.
&nbs p; Now it was time to pay them back.
She picked up the ace. “I’m your spy, Commander.”
Chapter Two
Four years later
Ben set his plasma rifle on the ground and propped the angel’s corpse in front of a tree, pressing her leather-like wings against the trunk. In the filtered moonlight, a glow emanated from under the bill of her military patrol cap. When he flipped it away, golden tresses fell to her camo-covered shoulders, and her serene face shone brightly, though she had died several minutes earlier.
“Are you there?” Jack’s quiet voice came from Ben’s earbud. “What’s the delay?”
Ben adjusted the bud. “Got a patrol angel. Female. Older teen. Maybe early twenties.” He eyed the gaping hole in her chest, still smoking at the edges. “Took just one plasma shot to kill her.”
“Then she’s a grunt. Probably first generation.”
Ben touched the angel’s cheek, smooth and radiant. No wonder so many people were fooled by these phonies. The so-called angels often chose attractive, youthful humans, and the radiance added to the deception. “More likely Gen Two. She’s got the glow and wings. And I hit her in the heart. Close range. That’ll kill a Two.”
“True, but if Gen Twos are patrolling this area at night, we’ve got more trouble than we bargained for. We’re far from headquarters. Maybe someone tipped them off.”
Trudy’s voice filtered through the earbud, even quieter than Jack’s. “Don’t be such a pessimist. I found the jeep at the coordinates. Everything’s inside, including the medical bag and vaccine cooler. Our mole came through. We’ve got this.”
“Good.” Ben glanced around for any sign of movement. Nothing stirred. “I’m at the pickup site, and I checked the locker. The security IDs are in hand.”
“What’re you going to do with the angel?” Jack asked. “We have to be to HQ’s security gate shortly after dawn. Not enough time to remove the implant in the field or take her to Doc.”
“I didn’t bring an extraction kit,” Trudy said. “This isn’t a mission of mercy. Not for the angels, anyway.”
Ben pushed a strand of hair from the young woman’s ghostly face. “Mercy mission or not, I can set this poor girl’s soul free.”
“How do you know she’s not a volunteer?” Jack asked. “And maybe her soul’s not even there anymore.”
“I have an AngelScan. Hang on.” Ben withdrew the palm-sized disk from a belt pouch and set the electrode side against the girl’s forehead. The screen lit up, showing an image of her brain. A red blob with snaking tentacles surrounded and impaled a white, radiant sphere embedded in the brain stem, like scarlet serpents spearing an innocent dove. “Her soul’s there. The implant has it trapped. Even if she was a volunteer before, she isn’t now.”
“All right,” Jack said. “Your call. I doubt I can talk you out of it.”
Ben turned the girl’s head, withdrew his handgun from its hip holster, and, pushing her soft locks to the side, set the barrel at the base of her skull. Her smallish nose and fair complexion made her look like a younger version of Kat, but he couldn’t let sad memories stop him from doing the right thing. “Sorry, young lady, but it’s for your own good.”
Trudy stood at the dark roadside and stared at the pavement, her muscles tense as she waited for the inevitable. As the mission’s point man, Ben made the final decisions, even some that bordered on suicidal.
A gunshot rang from the earbud. Trudy flinched. As she imagined a soul escaping from a ruptured skull and sailing into the air, she blew a sigh. Another tragic casualty. But at least the girl was no longer a prisoner of the implanted slave master.
“Bugging out,” Ben said, breathless, apparently running. “With any luck, the gunshot will draw the patrollers here, and I’ll be long gone.” A hum blended in, Ben’s electric motorcycle. “Be there in about twenty. Watch out for SkySweep drones. When that angel doesn’t report in, they’ll search for her.”
Trudy scanned the sky through the tree branches, mostly bare as a cool breeze rattled the remaining dry leaves and prompted her to zip her jacket. In the distant valley, a light blinked over the city skyline, maybe an airplane, too fast to be a landscape-scanning angel drone. So far, so good. But from this elevated perch, blinded by the mountain to her rear, it was impossible to be sure.
The gibbous moon hung low in the pre-dawn hours, and the usual stars dotted the blackness along with the new celestial lights that drew an eye-like disk of glittering specks across a fourth of the visible sky, a cluster that appeared when the angels arrived several years earlier.
The angel-driven media dubbed it the Oculus Gate, an eye in the sky through which the universal deity watched the planet. Ben, however, gave it a different label during their first resistance meeting—“Hell’s Gate.” To this day, no one in their rebel faction could be sure why it was really out there, though the theories and rumors chilled the bravest of souls.
“I found the tech gear,” Jack said through the earbud. “We’re set. See you in ten, Sis.”
“Roger that.” Trudy’s words emanated in twin puffs of white. “No bogeys in sight. I’ll prep the jeep.” She attached the radio to her belt, opened the vehicle’s rear swing-out door, and flipped up the cooler’s lid. A cloud of vapor rose into the humid air, adding to the morning’s growing fog. She lifted the cooling blanket. Underneath, several trays of fake vaccine vials lay stacked in tiers, five hundred doses. She set the blanket back in place and closed the lid. Perfect. Enough to stop the border invasion. Now if only she and Ben could infiltrate angel headquarters without getting caught.
She unzipped a suitcase lying next to the cooler. Their physician disguises lay folded neatly inside. Once again, perfect. But could they really pull it off? After months of preparation, now that the mission was finally underway, nothing seemed certain. Fooling the security drones and getting into angel headquarters would be hard enough, but the rest of the plan?
She shook her head, casting away the doubts. Confidence was the key. Ben and Jack never showed fear, at least not while she was around. She had to avoid being the protected kid sister and display the bravado and medical skills that convinced them to assign her this role. Otherwise, they would abort the mission and send her packing.
And, worst of all, every remaining patriot in the region would die.
Trudy fished a band from her pocket. After tying her hair back, she pried the jeep’s inner side panel away and set it on the cooler. She grabbed a flashlight from her belt and shone the beam into the newly revealed compartment. Inside lay an unlabeled toothpaste-like tube—probably skin-glow cream—and a plastic case no bigger than a ring box, both hidden carefully for good reason. If captured, the driver who brought the jeep here could explain away the vials in the cooler as rejected medical supplies, but these two items had no purpose besides deception.
She removed both, pushed the tube into her pocket, and drew the case closer to her eyes. Inside, a pair of tiny glass containers glimmered, no bigger than one-milliliter vials. How could these nearly invisible capsules hold a monster? Yes, the experiments had worked, but those test monsters were dead. Whether or not these capsules could contain a supernatural captive who was desperate to escape remained to be seen.
A hum drifted on the breeze. She pushed the capsule case into her pocket next to the glow cream tube, snapped the jeep’s panel back in place, and turned the flashlight off as she pivoted toward the sound. Seconds later, Jack, seated on his electric motorcycle, careened around a curve, one of many on this winding forest road. As usual, he rode much too close to the edge, only inches from the nearly vertical drop, probably just to scare her. Making her shudder had been a favorite hobby of his ever since her toddler years. But she couldn’t bat an eye. Not this time.
After stopping next to the jeep, he shut off the motor and dismounted, wearing black leather from his jacket to his boots. He slipped off his helmet, releasing his dark, curly locks and revealing a smiling, angular face, clean shaven for a change. “Everything ready?”
Trudy nodded. “Ready to kick some angel butt, if that’s what you mean.”
