Battle Angel (17 page)

G
asping, as if emerging from underwater, Maddy sat up in her bed. She was covering her ears with her hands and rocked back and forth. The demons. They’d been screaming. Everywhere. There’d been no escape.

It was dark all around, and she struggled to remember where she was. The T-shirt she wore to sleep was drenched in cold sweat. Slowly, gradually, the details came back to her: she was on the Ford-class aircraft carrier USS
Abraham Lincoln
, in the Pacific Ocean, in her cabin.

Maddy’s heart kept pounding, and the sweat from the terror of her dream did not dry.

Because she realized it was no dream. It did not fade with waking.

It was a vision.

The light clicked on, revealing Maddy’s face, gaunt and haunted. As quickly as she could, she stumbled into a pair of sweats and a jacket so she wouldn’t freeze up on deck.

“Lieutenant Commander.” A seaman up above saluted as she walked by. But Maddy didn’t pay any attention. She was focused on one thing and one thing only.

She looked out toward the sinkhole, and then spun around and gazed into the distance, back toward the shore and Angel City.

“Binoculars!” she shouted to no one in particular, but soon somebody on deck was handing her a pair. She took them and looked toward the Santa Monica beach.

The dark sky above Angel City appeared to be trembling, and veins of fire spread across the clouds.

“No . . . no . . . no!” she yelled in frustration.

Her vision was as gut-wrenching as she’d feared.

The demons weren’t going to be attacking from the sky. They would completely bypass the Battle Angels and the navy’s defenses.

It would be a land invasion. The demons were marching up from the sea. The sight she conjured was beyond the most grotesque nightmare: a relentless demon army marching across the seabed, with only one bloody goal in mind.

The Angels had so little time.

• • •

Both the entire flight team and the Battle Angels were assembled in record time. They stood on the flight deck of the aircraft carrier in the predawn hour. Captain Blake had dusted off his old flight jacket for the occasion. He took in a lungful of the sea air before turning and speaking pointedly to the assembled troops.

“If Lieutenant Commander Montgomery is right, this takes away any kind of relative advantage we might get from our air-strike capability,” the captain said. “They’re going to fight this the old-fashioned way, on the ground. Our only hope is that Godspeed and his Battle Angels can get to Angel City and set up defenses as they arrive. Force them into the air, give us a chance to catch them off guard.”

Grim faces stared back at Blake on the aircraft carrier deck. After a quick recovery, Tom had managed to get out of the sick bay, and he now stood off to the side with a bandage on his head and his flight suit under his arm. In the distant east, they could see the earliest glimpses of dawn. But black clouds swirled in against the usual golds and purples, and no sunrise would be seen that day.

“It’s been an honor, Godspeed,” one of the pilots said, nodding to the Angels.

They were under no illusion about what lay ahead of them. Or the likelihood of any of them surviving the onslaught. The Angels and pilots began shaking hands, and then some even began embracing. They’d formed a kind of brotherhood in these dark hours.

“Let’s at least give ’em hell, boys,” the captain said.

Just then, an awe-conjuring noise spread across the flight deck, causing everyone to look up into the still-dark sky. Birds. Thousands and thousands of them. They were all flying away. North, to safety.

No one dared say a word about the inauspicious sign.

As if to distract from the inevitable, Jacks lifted a hand and gathered his corps of Battle Angels near the edge of the flight deck. Angel City stood in the distance behind him, visible across the sea over the black outline of his shoulder in the battle armor. The sprawling Immortal City, gripped by fear and held under siege, lay in wait. There were only a few miles between the front line and a city that would be in flames.

Jackson began to speak.

“It is time to fight,” Jacks said, looking each of them in the eye. “This is a fight we knew we would have to face the moment we decided to leave the sanctuary. All of you know the odds, and you’ve known them since the moment we left our safe haven. And you still came. That says something.” The Angels nodded, moved by Jackson’s words. He went on, his voice filled to the brim with conviction. “We will fight for those we’ve already lost, those Angels who’ve already made the ultimate sacrifice. And we will fight for the humans, our sworn Protections. All of them, not just those who have the means to pay us. We will defend as we were supposed to defend. We are Guardian Angels.”

Jacks’s proud gaze passed over his brave fleet.

“This is much bigger than any one of us,” he said.

He looked out and met eyes with Maddy.

“For years, we were supposed to be heroes. They took our pictures, put us on TV, worshipped us.

“Well, today we get to be heroes. Not for the cameras. Not for the fans. Not for the money. Not for the NAS. But to carry out our solemn duty as Guardian Angels. This is the way it has always been. And it is the way it should have stayed up to this day.

“This is our duty. This is our fate,” Jackson said. “Some of us—all of us—may die, but if some of humanity survives, we will give them something to say about Angels for millennia to come. That we perished protecting mankind. There is no greater destiny for an Angel. And I will be proud to lead you all.”

Jacks didn’t even know where these words were coming from; they just flowed out like water. Looking at his audience, he saw determined faces, some with tears welling in their eyes, yet all of them with jaws still clenched in fortitude. When he saw Maddy wipe away a tear that had rolled down her cheek, he nodded solemnly and made his way to her through the crowd.

Each Angel put down his or her sword and bowed to Jackson in respect.

Maddy could tell that Jacks’s speech was more than just words. Something had happened to Jackson. He had become a real leader. He was no longer just the perfectly gorgeous visage on the cover of magazines and billboards, the most exemplary face of the glamorous Angels. He had become an actual leader. A figure of authority, power, and knowledge that the Angels could turn to. Whom they could follow. Whom they
would
follow, even if it meant their own deaths.

To Maddy it seemed as if entire lifetimes had passed. The boy who had picked her up in his Ferrari, who was a little vain and foolishly angry that he couldn’t make her forgive him by simply smiling at her, had now become something different. Something more. Maddy realized that the things she had loved best about Jackson had come to bloom fully. He had become a true Guardian of the Godspeed class, just as his ancestors had been, and their ancestors before them, all the way back to before the recorded time of the Book of Angels.

He was claiming his destiny, even if it would mean his death. He stood before her now, looking more serious than she’d ever seen him.

“If I don’t come back—” he started.

“Jacks, don’t talk like that,” Maddy pleaded. “You
will
come back.”

“Maddy, it’s okay. You know what we’re facing here.” Jacks put his hand on hers. “When I’m—if I’m not here, find Sylvester. He and Susan will be able to help you, get you to safety.”

“I’m not going to abandon Angel City, Jacks.”

“Sometimes it’s not about what you want. Everyone needs you, Maddy. You can help coordinate the resistance if Angel City falls. We will do our best to slow the demons down—”

“I’m not saying goodbye.”

“—so you can keep working,” Jacks went on, clearly unable to face this difficult moment with Maddy head-on. “Linden will be waiting for you out east. The demons can only move so fast. You might be able to come up with a solution. Maybe find the bastard that’s controlling these things. The resistance can survive.”

“You’re going to find the leader, Jacks. We already talked about this,” Maddy said, but even she could hear the note of desperation in her voice. “You’re going to make it.”

“Well, if there’s one thing I know, Maddy, it’s that you’re going to make it. You
need
to make it. You’re a symbol, Maddy. What you stand for is larger than yourself. You need to survive. Me? I was just another spoiled Angel, and then I became something worse than that: a has-been. Bitter about everything I didn’t have, ungrateful for the things I did. I pushed you away because I was angry and sad and didn’t know what else to do. For some reason I’ve been given a second chance, and I want to make the most of it.”

“What if I don’t want to be a symbol, Jacks? What if I want to fight? I’m a Battle Angel—”

“I’ve already talked to Linden. It’s a precondition for our help. Your safety. There’s no getting around it.”

“No! I’m
going
to fight,” Maddy said. “I have to! You can’t just force me to run away, Jacks. You can’t always protect me.”

“I can try,” Jacks said. “I am here on this earth to be a hero, and I’ve only just recently realized that, up until now, I’ve failed at that. But today I get to be one. It’s an honor. And you are going to play a larger part. You have to survive, Maddy. You
will
survive.”

Jacks leaned down and kissed her. His lips were light against hers, but he let them linger there for a moment. And Maddy let them linger, too. She had no choice in the matter; it was as if all of her soul and all of her body were possessed by Jackson’s presence.

“Think of me,” he said.

“I will,” she whispered.

Jacks took her hand and put it against her heart. “I’m here with you.”

Maddy was silent as the Angel walked along the flight deck to his destiny.

• • •

Jackson had almost reached the rest of his squadron of Angels when he heard a voice speaking from behind him.

“Godspeed.”

Jacks turned around. It was Tom, still with a large bandage on his head from the crash.

“I just wanted to say . . . thank you,” Tom said. “For finding me out there.” He motioned to the expansive ocean. “But mostly just for coming. You and your Angels. You’ve given the people some hope.” He motioned toward Angel City, which, from their vantage on the carrier, seemed close enough almost to touch.

Jackson didn’t say anything. He knew how hard this was for Tom after everything that had happened. Silence hung between them as they studied each other. The pilot in his flight suit, the Angel in his black battle regalia. Tom and Jacks had never been able to be in the same room longer than five minutes without shouting at each other. Now they had a moment to size each other up in thoughtful silence.

“She loves you, you know,” Tom said.

Jacks stayed quiet for a moment, looking down at the flight deck. Then he met eyes with Tom. “Take good care of her.”

“What?” Tom said.

Jackson just turned and started walking toward the stairs to the hangar, where the rest of the Immortals were waiting. The ocean wind whipped his hair as he walked away.

“Godspeed!” Tom shouted after him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” But he received no reply.

From the side of the flight deck, three military policemen and ensigns materialized and approached Tom. The pilot looked at them, annoyed.

“What is it?” Tom said.

“Sir, we’ve just received direct orders from President Linden that you and Lieutenant Commander Montgomery are to be transported as soon as possible to safety at a secure location east of Angel City, where you’ll be further assisting the resistance. Your demon expertise is far more valuable than your tactical skill in this battle. You are recovering from a concussion, and are under mandatory break from flying. In your state—”

“My
state
is that I’m ready to kick some demon ass. You can’t ground me! I’m fine! I need to be up in the air. That’s where I’ll be able to protect Maddy best. This is a
war.
I’ve trained my whole life for this.” He rounded on the MP. “We’re going directly to Blake. When he hears about this—”

“Sir, Captain Blake has already signed off on it. The call came from President Linden himself. There are no options, Lieutenant. You have to leave. You have forty-five minutes to get your things ready. You’ll be fully briefed on the helicopter. We are under strict orders to bring both you and Lieutenant Commander Montgomery directly to the president.”

Godspeed
.

Angrily, Tom looked up to find Jackson, but he was no longer on the flight deck. The Angel was already gone.

T
he flames waved, quivering like a moving wall. They began at the beach and snarled above the rooftops, snapping and crackling in the masked daylight, starting to move away from the ocean and into Angel City.

There had been no warning. No jets flying over, no air raid sirens. The demons were coming by land this time. They would be infesting the city, block by block. They would be methodical. No one would escape.

The steady
crack-crack
of gunfire came from the front line of resistance: a ragtag group of locals, combined with a squadron of U.S. soldiers who had been stationed in nearby Venice Beach. They were armed with rifles, shotguns, pistols. Anything they could get together.

The tony beachfront properties of Santa Monica had been transformed into a snarl of barbed wire and sandbagged machine-gun nests. A makeshift barricade had been erected with the barbed wire and boards. Snipers were set up in smashed-open windows of multimillion-dollar beach homes, mortars placed in driveways next to the latest BMWs imported directly from Munich. All along this front line of defense, soldiers and citizen militia volunteers alike had been stationed and put into position. They stood shoulder to shoulder, ready to make a stand against the demons.

• • •

From far above in the dim darkness, the entire coastline as far as Jackson could see glowed red and flashed with explosions and gunfire. From the water, like lanterns of doom, he could see the dull black-red smoldering of the demons underwater as they advanced up out of the ocean and onto the beach. As they stepped ashore with their foul, unthinkable claws, they were met with the rapid fire of the machine-gun nests.

This was the Immortal City’s last, desperate stand. Each block would be paid for in blood both human and Immortal.

Jackson soared above with his formation of renegade Battle Angels just behind, regarding the spectacle with wonder. It was quiet up there, somehow, as the Battle Angels flew wing-to-wing in their black armor in the darkness. But it didn’t stay quiet for long.

Jacks pulled his sword out from behind his shoulder. He turned and looked to the Angels aloft behind him, soaring on the cool ocean breeze. Farther out, he could hear the navy’s air support drawing closer. He nodded to Mitch.

“Now!” Jackson shouted, spiraling straight down.

With a great collective war cry, the Angels all drew their Divine Swords and began plunging one by one through the thin clouds into the hell that awaited them on the land below.

The demon army just kept coming. Like some unending nightmare you could never wake from, the beasts kept emerging from the water.

Now on solid ground, Jackson and his Angels fought them hand to hand in the streets. Smashing back and forth between buildings, the Angels wanted to slow the demons, hoping to coax the leader out, exposing itself, as they advanced. They would only have so much time to try to strike at this heart of the demon army. But who knew when that time or opportunity would present itself? Jacks had to trust the resistance to keep trying to track their patterns and home in on a source. Otherwise all—everything—could be lost.

In the air, the military’s support was negligible—unless the demons were somehow forced into the open, the jets and bombers couldn’t get a clear shot. They were strafing and bombing the open beach when the demons were emerging, but all it did was slow them, not stop them. The beautiful Santa Monica beach was becoming pocked with huge bomb craters as the demons moved forward, unleashing themselves on the city.

The battle lines were being pushed back toward Angel City already. How long until they had to make a final stand, Jackson did not know. But he knew it couldn’t be too much longer.