Battle Angel (21 page)

Maddy witnessed it all from afar, rendered speechless with grief and shock.

“No!” she wailed, tears blurring her vision. The demons circled the pilot, the black flames off their bodies rippling in the distance. They still hadn’t turned their attention back to Maddy.

Suddenly she remembered Tom’s last words:
Don’t stop.

With every shred of strength she had, she fled from the grisly scene, looking for anywhere to hide. Her Divine Sword still lay near the rubble, unclaimed; she didn’t have the strength to pick it up anyway. She just needed to
go
. Blood pumped frantically through her veins as she hobbled. Then she took a left down a service alley behind a row of stores. She looking back behind her, down the smoky passageway half-lit by the fires in Angel City reflecting off the clouds, and she saw no demons on her trail. She came upon an old metal door that looked like it might lead to some sort of storage room or basement. She tried the metal handle. Locked.

Hrnnnh.
She lowered her shoulder and tried to smash against it, but the only effect it had was a little bounce. Pain shot through her body.
Hrnnnh.
Crying out in pain and grief, she tried again.
Hrnnnh
. Nothing.

One more time with everything she had. She squared herself and set her jaw, and went for it with all her might. The door burst open and she tumbled into the pitch-dark room, which looked to Maddy like a janitorial closet. Panting, she frantically pushed the door closed and somehow managed to get it to stay shut. It wouldn’t keep the demons out, but at least they wouldn’t be able to see her from outside.

It was pitch-black inside the small room, but she could sense she was alone. Maddy slumped down against the wall next to a mop and bucket. She tried to retract her injured wing, but she didn’t have the energy. She was beyond exhausted, spent. She decided to let her grief run out of her with big, gasping sobs. Tom was dead. He had saved her. And now he was dead.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing.

Tom is dead. Tom is dead. Tom is dead.

And then the darkness came again.

A
rocket screamed down and exploded in the street two blocks away, rattling the rooftop Jackson walked on. He didn’t even flinch as he scanned the sky for Battle Angel reinforcements. He didn’t know how many hours of pitched battle in the skies and streets of Angel City had passed. With the demon invasion came darkness that had shrouded the sun and turned the day into a permanent twilight. Had it already been a full day? Time seemed to stretch and compress before Jacks in the fog and exhaustion of this war that none of his studies could have ever prepared him for.

Mitch was there by his side, assessing the situation. Both Angels looked battle-worn, their armor tarnished, marred by more than a few stains of demon blood.

“They’re coming so fast, faster than we can kill them,” Mitch said. “How can we hold them? They’re wearing us down.”

“I don’t know,” Jacks said. “But we have to. We have to get to the leader, Mitch. It’s our only hope.”

“Well let’s hope the detective gives us something soon,” Mitch said. “We can’t hold them forever.”

Jackson looked up and saw a small group of Battle Angels returning from the west. Archangel Godspeed was leading them. Their eyes were dead-set and determined.

“Mark!” Jacks shouted, glad to see his stepfather all right. Suddenly, off to Mark’s left, they saw a line of Dark Angels flying just above the horizon, trying to speed around the Angel defenses. Jackson pumped his wings—once, twice—but Mitch put his hand on his shoulder.

“Mark and I got this,” he said. “Right, Mark?” he shouted up to the Archangel, who was flying just above. He nodded at Mitch.

“You, you, and you—follow me!” Mark yelled over the din of the battle to a cluster of Angels flying past. Mitch smiled at Jacks as he launched off the roof to join Mark in their pursuit of the demons. Jackson watched them disappear into the dark sky, his heart tugging as the image of Mark and his best friend faded from his sight into the storm of the demon assault.

“Jacks! Jacks!” a voice screamed suddenly. Jacks felt the whoosh of an Angel rushing up past his battle aides. “I found you!” He was a Guardian whom Jackson had met only a handful of times. Jackson thought his name was Trevor. “I finally found you.”

Demons clotted in the streets below, advancing faster and faster.

“What is it?” Jacks said a bit impatiently.

“Louis Kreuz—”

The name grabbed Jackson’s attention. “Did he make it out?”

“The ADC agents took him, Jacks. He escaped today . . . but not before they took his wings. He was injured pretty badly. . . . It was worse than just his wings.” Trevor’s brow darkened. “He had a message for you. He wanted me to give it to you personally.”

“A message?” Jacks’s pulse quickened.

“Well, I really don’t understand it,” the Guardian said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What is it? What’s the message?” Jacks asked. He had to stop himself from grabbing the Angel by his collar.

“It’s only one word,” Trevor said. “Well, a name, actually.”

Jacks stared at the messenger, the anticipation nearly killing him. He knew Kreuz’s message could mean the difference between victory and complete, utter defeat.

“The message is:
Gabriel
,” Trevor said.

The name was like a bolt of lightning searing into Jackson’s body and soul.

Suddenly it all made sense.

“Jacks, are you all right?” Trevor asked, surely a little disturbed at the effect his message had had on the Angels’ battle leader.

“Yeah. Yes, I’m fine, I’m fine. . . . Thank you for bringing me this message,” Jackson said, trying to recover so the Guardian would leave him alone. “Just, please, keep it to yourself.” Trevor nodded and backed off, much to Jacks’s relief.

Jacks looked up to the Angel City Hills, his mind’s eye burrowing into the evil truth that was deep beneath them.

Of course. Of course.
Of course
.

It was Gabriel. Gabriel was controlling them.

He was the head demon.

T
his time when Maddy opened her eyes, there was no reprieve from the darkness. She felt woozy, but with some effort, she recalled that she had escaped to the service room off the street she’d run down. Then, in another instant, she recalled the fatal, terrible fact that pounded in her brain with every beat of her heart: Tom had died saving her. Misery welled within her, but she tried to quell it as much as she could. Though she would never get the chance to sacrifice herself to save Tom, which she would have done in a heartbeat, there still was someone she could help. It might not be too late. Maddy could still hear the muffled sound of explosions outside, confirming that the battle for Angel City had continued to rage for however long she’d been passed out.

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.