Moving blindly still, Maddy pulled herself to the wall and sat up straight, banging her burned arm into a mop and bucket that went clattering across the smooth concrete floor. The pain in her right wing was excruciating, unreal, and Maddy nearly swooned under the pressure. Taking sharp breaths between her teeth, she forced herself to focus on staying conscious.
Before she went outside, she knew she needed to retract the injured wing, which hung limp and useless, flopping around and causing agony with every move. Maddy sat down and braced herself by leaning forward.
She focused as hard as she could, pushing through the unbelievable pain to try to get her wings to retract. But only the left one did, while the right wing just hung there lamely, emanating none of the luminescence it once had. Maddy cried in pain. “Come on, come on . . . ,” she whispered through gritted teeth and tears.
She gave it one more shot. . . .
“Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” she screamed, surely loud enough for any human, Angel, or demon outside to hear. But perhaps it helped, because the wing, making a strange, belabored sound, was finally able to retract. Maddy crumpled to the ground and lay there until her breathing calmed down. Then she sat up once again, this time resolute and feeling renewed.
After waiting what seemed like an eternity for the slightest sound or evidence of danger, Maddy slowly pulled the creaky door open. She saw no one. A thick smoke had settled across the city, filling the street, giving it an ominous air. She looked back and forth past the other buildings, but there was no sign of any Dark Angels. Or anyone else, for that matter.
The sky was still dark, but that didn’t tell her anything: whenever the demons attacked, the sun disappeared beneath a shroud of black clouds laced with vermillion highlights. Day and night passed identically underneath this darkness.
She could hear the roar of jet sorties flying above and explosions not too far off. The sounds of the military gave her fresh agony, as the thought of Tom’s death entered her mind.
Looking down, Maddy assessed the damage to her arm from the demon’s white-hot touch. And it was bad. Her jacket had caught fire during the struggle and the lining had been burned through underneath, exposing a layer of red, blistered skin. Maddy had to look away from the grotesque sight of her own injury. She wasn’t sure what degree burn it was, but she knew it wasn’t good.
Maddy started down the street as well as she could in her state. She passed the place where Tom had given his life, happy to move away from where the demons had been. But then something—some unavoidable, potentially suicidal impulse—told her to go back. Back to where it had happened. She needed her sword. But . . . why? Why was her body telling her this? It’s not as if she was in any condition to fight a demon. If she had to face another Dark Angel, she would surely be killed, sword or not. Nevertheless, deep inside, she felt she needed it still.
With incredible caution, she entered a neighboring building that had been abandoned and crept quietly to the third floor to look out one of the broken windows at the scene below.
Everything seemed quiet. A few tendrils of smoke from flaming wreckage drifted diagonally as the wind puffed. The demons had left, apparently. Down on the street, she saw her Divine Sword, its hilt almost seeming to grow in luster as she looked at it. Suddenly her face was slightly lit by a dim glow from her Divine Ring. Maddy scanned the scene until she was sure she would be safe.
And then, down the street, she spotted it: a dark shape sprawled on the ground near the intersection.
Tom’s body.
Maddy’s blood went cold as she looked at the unmoving figure stretched out on the lonely asphalt. She girded her spirit and forced herself to go on.
She made her way down the stairs to the abandoned street filled with detritus from the battle. She approached her sword, then kept on walking. She’d get it after.
Maddy approached Tom slowly. Behind his body, in the middle of the intersection, the stoplight still dangled there, one side of the cable snapped off from the pole across the street. Its bottom-right corner scraped back and forth on the asphalt as the wind blew it to and fro.
A putrid, sulfurous smell inundated the area, reeking of demons, but at least the heat and humidity of their dark presence had dissipated. A jolt of pain flashed through Maddy’s burned arm.
Maddy studied Tom before approaching. He looked peaceful. Above the shoulders he looked more or less like himself, save for the stream of blood that had run down the side of his mouth. But starting from his chest down to his belly button, it was all gore. Maddy thought she could feel her heart literally breaking as she looked down at the pilot who had saved her life. Stepping forward, she took off the remnants of her navy jacket and covered the fatal wound.
“Tom, I’m so sorry. So, so sorry,” she whispered, wiping her tears with her good arm. Putting her hand underneath Tom’s still-bandaged head and her fingers in his hair, she leaned down. She pressed her weeping face to the small indentation in between his Adam’s apple and his clavicle, just above where the demon had done his damage. But Tom did not respond, of course. She could feel that his skin had already started going cold to the touch.
Maddy tried to pull herself together. What could she do to make this even a little bit right? She could at least give his body shelter. She lifted her head and wiped the blurring tears away. Then, as gently as she could, she wedged herself under Tom’s right armpit and began pulling him out of the street, inch by inch, the heels of his boots dragging and scuffing the pavement along the way. It took everything she had just to move him a few inches at a time. But soon, panting, she had him near the half-shattered remains of a door to a house that was still standing on the corner.
With great effort she pulled him over the threshold and into what looked like some kind of office foyer. She laid him straight out on his back and placed his arms flat against his sides so he looked comfortable. Maddy then shifted her jacket up so the garment covered not only his wound, but his face, as well. She whispered a small prayer. Taking a few steps back she looked at his body, which finally looked serene.
“I’m sorry, Tom,” Maddy said over the body. “This is the best I could do. I would stay here longer, all day and all night if I could. But there’s something I have to do still.”
With a solemn and heavy heart, Maddy gave Tom one last, final look, and turned to walk back to the fated spot.
Her sword was still waiting for her on the deserted street. Reaching down for the weapon, Maddy found the hair on the back of her neck turned stiff as steel wires.
Something was behind her. She froze. She took one breath, then another.
In a smooth motion, Maddy attempted to reach down, unhook the leather latch, pull the sword out of the sheath, and spin around on whatever demon was approaching. A shout escaped her lips. The sword flailed as she spun, grunting, as she lost her strength to bring the weapon around effectively.
She braced herself to face her fate, but instead of a Dark Angel, she saw the dog that had been there barking at the demon earlier. It cowered as it saw Maddy raising the sword, and Maddy was filled with guilt for scaring the poor, terrorized animal. She lowered the sword and put her hand out.
“It’s okay, girl,” she said. “No demons here.”
Reaching into her pocket, Maddy found a packet of facial tissues and a granola bar. She opened the package and split the bar with the dog, who ate it gratefully, then came up to Maddy and sat next to her. Maddy sat down and petted her while she ate her half of the bar.
Suddenly, a fighter jet screamed overhead, skimming the rooftops. It was so loud Maddy was deafened for a moment. The dog fled into a nearby building. The roar of the engine rattled whatever windows were left on the street. Then Maddy saw what the jet was pursuing: a demon, maybe ten blocks away, that had emerged above the rooftops. Though the demon was somewhat far off, Maddy still ducked for cover behind an intact SUV. Also in the distance, Maddy saw the glow of
another flying figure—probably a Guardian and her Divine Sword. It was trailing the Dark Angel, which seemed to be getting farther away. Meanwhile, the jet banked left and launched two missiles above the buildings, which exploded in a tremendous fireball against the demon. The demon tumbled, temporarily stunned but not killed by the explosion. It bought enough time, however; just seconds later, Maddy saw the Angel move in. A flash spilled across the horizon as the demon was killed. Maddy watched helplessly as the Angel and jet both flew off in the opposite direction. She wished she had some way to signal them. But, after a second thought, she realized that this was best as a solo mission.
Suicide missions always are.
Maddy kept up her furtive pace down the Angel City street until she found what she was looking for. A pharmacy. The front of the store advertised a special on diabetes kits and a “Special Saturday Coupon Saver” on bottled water. She walked up to the front door and drew her weapon from behind her back. Covering her face and turning away, Maddy rammed the butt of the Divine Sword against the plate-glass window. The pane shattered into thousands of glittering fragments that tinkled to the ground. A backup alarm, probably running on emergency battery life, started weakly ringing and flashing green inside the store. Maddy used the sword to clear away the jagged pieces still sticking out from the metal doorframe and walked into the pharmacy through the makeshift entrance.
She walked down the aisles of the darkened, abandoned store, looking for bandages. She found them in what she assumed was the first aid aisle, then scanned the shelves opposite it until she found some medicated burn cream. With a sigh of relief, she then found that the door to the prescription-filling area had been left open. In the pharmacist’s area, a stale donut and a half-full cup of coffee with red lipstick on the paper rim sat on the counter next to a workstation. A skim of mold floated on the top of the coffee, which had been sitting there for who knows how long. Maddy scanned the shelves of innumerable drugs. Azithromycin, Prevacid, Fluoxetine. How would she be able to figure out which one was the right painkiller or even what dosage to take? Sighing, she walked back out to the main store area, empty-handed. Back in the over-the-counter section, she found a bottle of ibuprofen and swallowed a few of the brown, sugarcoated caplets. It’d have to do. She couldn’t afford to be groggy or take something totally wrong on a blind assumption.
Maddy found the bathroom. It was dark inside, but a green glimmer from the backup alarm lit her face up in the mirror in blinks of light and dark. Back and forth. The green light made everything seem even more ghoulish than it already was.
Turning on the tap and squeezing out some soap, she washed the hand on her good arm. She was trying to recall all the instructions she’d learned during first aid training in her high school health class. What had they said about treating burns? She couldn’t remember clearly. But she was pretty sure that, no matter what they’d taught her, they hadn’t prepared her for a burn this big.
Gritting her teeth in anticipation of pain, Maddy turned to her burned arm, which she had pretty much avoided even looking at since she woke up in the dark room. It was black and raw. Delicately, Maddy reached with her fingers to pull out a piece of her burned shirt, which had melted into her skin.
The instant her finger tugged on the charred, loose scrap of cloth, Maddy screamed in pain and buckled forward. She almost collapsed onto the white tile floor; only a last-minute grab of the sink had held her up. Tears of pain dampened her cheeks. Well, that’s not going to work, she thought. She’d have to make do. If by some miracle she survived and was able to see a doctor, they’d just have to deal with pesky details like clothing melted into skin later.
Maddy washed her good hand again, then put the tube of burn cream between her teeth to keep it steady while she unscrewed the lid. She squeezed the tube, and some of the goop came out. Taking in a deep breath and holding it, she slowly and carefully began to apply the medicated cream along the burn area. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, her clamminess made even more ghastly by the flashing green light. At last she finished and let out a huge breath, sobbing. Okay. One last thing. Using her teeth, she ripped open the package of large bandages. She delicately layered them over the burn area, careful not to leave any part uncovered. It was excruciating. But after she finished, as painful as the process might have been, at least the arm started to feel slightly better. At the very least it was covered. She pocketed the rest of the bottle of ibuprofen and left the store the same way she came in. Her feet crunched down on broken glass as she stepped out. She could hear the alarm still sounding as she made her way down the road, which was lined with burned parked cars. No matter; no one would be coming to see about the alarm for a long time.
Maddy walked for a long while, keeping the main action of the battle to her side. At last, she looked ahead and saw that she was just near the foot of the Angel City Hills. A pang of worry struck her as she realized that, not so far off to the east, was Uncle Kevin in the emergency shelter. The battle lines were pushing just up to that neighborhood, and all she could do was hope that there was some way to stop the demons before they broke down the shelter walls.
Maddy looked to the Hills. Her gaze moved higher and higher, up into the dark trees, which reflected the glare of flames across Angel City. Somewhere up there was the entry. It was drawing her. She had no doubt she’d find it. She just hoped she didn’t have to knock.
She began to climb.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The elevator door opened to reveal an abandoned sanctuary. Slowly walking forward, Jacks found himself alone in the main passage. Nobody was home.
Down at the end of the hallway, someone—or something—scurried across an intersecting hallway, then disappeared.
The lights were dimmed, running on emergency power, lending the deserted sanctuary an even stranger feeling as Jacks explored the marble passages. Of all the places he imagined he would end up on the day of the ultimate battle for Angel City, this was not one of them.
Soon Jacks reached the main hub, where abandoned shops and restaurants stood as if keeping watch over the center fountain.
It looked as if some kind of struggle had taken place here. A café table next to the fountain had been overturned; empty plastic cups littered the area, their iced skinny mochas spilled onto the normally well-polished floor. Several of the darkened stores had suffered broken windows.
Jacks moved slowly, carefully, through the familiar passages, seeing no one. His solitary footsteps echoed down the tunnels.
He was about to pass Emily’s rooms. He became quieter and quieter as he approached, until he heard a strange sound coming from her quarters. With hushed breath, he stepped closer and closer, until he finally reached the threshold.
False alarm. The door was wide open, and the TV had been left on to blare its buzzing static throughout the halls. Strangely, though, a Louis Vuitton suitcase with designer clothes poking out of the top sat on the couch just next to the TV. Emily must have left in a hurry. But why?
Then something caught Jacks’s eye, and he looked down to the floor. There were a few drops of blood.
What had happened here?
The Battle Angel made his way closer and closer to the outer ring of the sanctuary. The lights became fewer, and an ominous air grew as he approached the passages to the Council chambers. He had no idea what to expect, or whether he could even get in, but he was sure it would not be simple.
A distinct uneasiness hung thick in the corridors as lights flickered in and out. The place was entirely deserted. And it felt as if the source of unrest was coming from within the sanctuary, and not from the demon assault without.
Suddenly, Jackson was without a doubt that Gabriel knew he was coming.
• • •
He was nearing the solarium, where he’d spent so much time with Gabriel. Listening to him talk. Believing his words. Trusting in his justifications.
Jacks cou
ld see now what Gabriel had wanted from him. He needed a powerful and loyal Angel to stay by his side when the inevitable conflicts arose in the Angel community. The Council was unimpeachable, but after the humans were defeated, Jacks was certain that being in league with the demons would not sit well with all the Angels. There would have been problems.
Gabriel could have used someone like Jacks to “smooth over” those problems. And the True Immortal had wanted him to start by getting rid of Kreuz and Sylvester. Kreuz had not only known too much, but he’d also been sharing it with those opposed to Gabriel and the Council. He had needed to be dealt with before it was too late.
But luckily, fate had intervened. Gabriel had overestimated his ability to influence Jackson. He hadn’t counted on the powerful influence Maddy’s absence had proved to be for Jackson.
Jackson’s mind raced with these thoughts as he walked along the entry to the indoor garden. The large glass door was ajar, although the inside lay dark and slumbering. Jackson took a few steps forward.
“Don’t come any closer,” a stern voice said.
A gun barrel sparkled in the darkness. Jacks froze.
Then he saw the silver frames of a pair of familiar glasses reflecting the little light that was coming from down the hall.
“Detective Sylvester?”
“Jackson?”
The detective stepped into the light, letting out a large breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Jackson said.
“I’m sorry, I thought I had the place to myself. You gave me a little scare,” Sylvester admitted.
“Wait. What were you hoping to do by coming here?” Jacks looked dubiously at the service revolver, now back in its holster, that the detective had just pulled on him.
“To be honest, I hadn’t really thought that far. I was going to think of something. I couldn’t get in touch with any of the others. Radios, cell phones, landlines—everything is down. It’s chaos out there,” Sylvester said. “I wasn’t about to bring Susan along with me. I told her I knew how to get you here. If I’d told the truth, she would have never let me come alone.”