What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [130]
The soldier who’d done all the talking mumbled something, but it wasn’t clear what he said, mostly because he was lying face down on the ground with this hands tied together behind him.
“Hello?” said Cadmon.
The bleeding solder managed to sit himself upright and stared at Cadmon with a somewhat confused look on his face. “What?”
“Uh … the gun?” Cadmon gestured to the pistol that was pointed at his head.
The soldier glanced at Lola, who narrowed her eyes and slowly shook her head. He sighed a dreamy sigh.
“The gun, yes?” asked Cadmon.
The soldier shrugged.
Lola just stared at him, shaking her head with her mouth hanging open slightly. “You are an idiot,” she said, and popped him on the head with the base of her pistol. He fell over sideways.
“Holy shit!” said Raju. “He’s got a sword! And it’s on fire!”
Chapter 50. Ezekiel’s Fiery Sword of Death
Raju was correct in his assessment. Ezekiel had a sword. It was very large, and appeared to have been made from metal that hadn’t ever cooled down after being pulled from the blacksmith’s fire. And by the time everyone looked, he’d used that sword to chop about eight inches off the barrel of Satan’s shotgun.
Ezekiel yelled and screamed at Satan, as he swung the sword impossibly fast again and again. The Devil staggered backward, trying to avoid the ceaseless strokes. The stadium shuddered and rumbled. This did not help the Dark Lord of the Underworld as he struggled to remain standing.
“Get him!” said Cadmon offering a fist pump of encouragement to Ezekiel. Lola waved the pistol to remind Cadmon of the fact that he had a firearm pointed at his head. “Oh,” he said, straightening.
Ezekiel continued swinging the sword, trimming the Flaming Shotgun of Divine Retribution bit-by-bit, and actually took off a largish chunk of the Devil’s hand. The Devil did not scream – he just regarded the bloody stumps of fingers with kind of a confused expression on his face.
“Hey,” said Liam. “Wait a minute.”
Ezekiel ignored him and conked the Prince of Darkness on the noggin with the butt of the sword – which did nothing to improve Satan’s befuddled state – and then held his sword up high above his head, preparing to deliver the killing blow. Satan put up his remaining hand, either because he wanted to discourage Ezekiel from any further attack, or because he was trying to do the Macarena. The fact that he also staggered backwards while making vague moaning sounds suggests that the latter is unlikely. On the other hand, at least some of the staggering was probably attributable to the movement of the floor. The stadium had gone from rumbling and shaking to more of a rolling, swaying movement. So, in summary, it’s a little hard to know exactly why Satan put his hand up, because while there are at least a few reasonable inferences that may be drawn, the question of intent is necessarily subjective, and Satan didn’t take the time, at that time, to tell anyone what he was thinking.
“You are weak, and a coward,” said Ezekiel.
“What does it matter if he’s weak?” asked Cadmon. Lola waved the gun more energetically this time. Cadmon nodded and shooed her away.
Lola had already waved the gun as much as she could without actually doing a dance, so she just shrugged. She continued to point the gun at his head.
“Stop,” said Liam.
“We should stop him,” said Festus. “He can’t win.”
“Nothing is inevitable,” said Ezekiel. “Our victory is assured. The only thing that could have prevented it was you, and your ineptitude; your weakness. We never should have followed you.” He smacked Satan with the broad side of the sword, and the Devil toppled backward to lean against the wall.
“What?” said Cadmon.
Festus was beginning to get a little bit agitated. “We cannot let him win.”
Satan regarded Ezekiel with a confused expression. His head lolled, and he sucked in air in huge, labored gulps. He barely seemed to noticed as Ezekiel raised the sword up over his head, grasping the hilt with both hands.
“You have…” Satan seemed to choke on the words. His