Battle Angel (24 page)

M
addy, Jacks, and Sylvester had stepped out of the Council chambers and into the sunlight of a new world. A different Angel City.

“Jacks . . . ,” Maddy said, overwhelmed by all that had happened. She held on to his arm as she looked out across the Angel City basin. “They’re gone, Jacks. It’s all over.”

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” Jacks said. In the distance Angels were returning from the final mission of the battle, flying to the appointed meeting spot at the base of the Hills. “But then I look at you, and I know it’s real.”

A few steps away from them, Detective Sylvester was saying a prayer of thanksgiving under his breath. Lifting his glasses, he dabbed at his eyes, which were tearing up.

“Sylvester . . . ,” Jackson said. “What you did . . . Thank you. You saved my life.”

“Just doing my duty,” the detective said, choking back emotion. “I suppose that’s why I ended up here.” He looked at Maddy and Jacks. “Why we all ended up here.”

Suddenly a thought bolted through Maddy’s mind.

Kevin
.

In a panic Maddy looked east toward the Angel City neighborhood harboring the shelter. From this distance the area looked fairly unscathed. Maddy breathed out a sigh of relief.

They began making their way down the hill to where the others were waiting. Just before the sanctuary was completely out of sight, Jacks looked up at the ruins of the glass cube.

“The world will know of both the heroism and evil of the Angels today. We won’t hide any longer. No more lies.”

• • •

They reached the meeting spot near the foot of Runyon Canyon, which, ironically, had previously been a hot Angel sighting spot for tourists and paparazzi. Today, the day the Angels were out in droves—the day they had
won
—there was not a camera or tourist in sight.

Angels were landing all around, many with injuries. Battle commanders were barking orders and screaming at Angel nurses to start triaging patients. Still, the light from the morning sun was streaming across the scene, and in this moment of victory, despite all the sacrifices and casualties, there seemed to be a lightness and hope that Maddy had forgotten could exist.

A hush came over the temporary camp as the Angels realized who had just arrived. They watched in awe as Jackson Godspeed, with limping Maddy Montgomery and Detective Sylvester, emerged from the top of the Hills.

“Gabriel is gone,” Jackson announced. “He was the one who brought the demons. He was a traitor to the Angels and humans alike. And in his death the demons lost their courage and their way. Gabriel has fallen. And from this point forward, no longer under his corrupt hand, Angels will be fallen no longer.”

The crowd regarded their leader with silent pride.

One of the Battle Angels came forward. He looked at Jackson with sadness on his face. Maddy’s stomach tightened, nervous about what he had to say.

“Jackson . . . we lost Archangel Godspeed.”

“Mark?” Jacks’s voice faltered.

Jackson dropped to one knee, holding his head in his left hand in grief. He took in deep, gasping breaths. Time seemed to slow down around Jackson, and the whole world felt like it was underwater. Maddy was speechless.

“Mitch was with him,” the Battle Angel continued. A deadly silence hung in the air, a terrible cloud of expectation. Maddy had to stop herself from turning away, afraid to hear Mitch’s fate.

“He was badly hurt holding off the demons. But he’s going to make it.”

Maddy exhaled, and Jacks nodded.

“I’m glad,” Jackson managed to choke out. “Both of them . . . would have been too much.”

“Your stepfather didn’t die in vain,” the Angel said. “A pack of demons was moving toward an emergency shelter full of citizens. It was as if the Dark Ones knew they were about to go down, and were trying to murder as many as they could before we sent them back to hell. Mark and Mitch managed to hold off ten Dark Ones before they fell. But it was enough time for a civilian militia to evacuate the shelter. Mark’s a hero.”

Still kneeling, Jacks nodded, pressing his fist against his mouth as he tried to process the waves emotion crashing over him. This was a moment he would remember forever, the moment he heard his stepfather—his dad, really—was no longer.

Jackson continued buckling under the news as he remembered what he’d just learned: that his own father had been murdered by Gabriel. He grieved for both of them, father and stepfather, both victims of Gabriel’s treachery. They had sacrificed their lives for the lives of others.

“I’ll never forget him,” Jackson murmured as he struggled with the tears, his throat as he realized he’d never see Mark again.

The freedom fighters in front of him, Angel and human alike, became quiet and circled around Jackson. They looked at him with pity and compassion—and reverence. News had already spread about what he had done. He had vanquished Gabriel, the ultimate traitor and leader of the demon army. Jackson Godspeed slowly stood up and met the eyes of his fellow fighters, those who had withstood the demon attack alongside him. They had put everything on the line to halt the onslaught; they were Angel and mankind’s first defense against annihilation.

“All of you who fought here today are heroes,” said Jackson. “Don’t ever forget that. I’m proud to have been with you. We’re going to have time—too much time—to be sad about our losses. But right now, before we even think about our path to healing, let’s take a moment of silence in honor of those slain.”

Maddy bowed her head in memory along with the rest of the crowd. Her first thought was of Tom, then Mark, and then of what Jacks must be feeling right now, as well. Hot tears ran down her face, dripping into the dirt below.

After a full minute, Jackson lifted his head and looked at everyone. His eyes were rimmed with tears.

“Thank you,” he said.

• • •

Farther down the hill, Maddy found a U.S. military tent. She walked in to a soldier’s salute.

“Lieutenant Commander,” the soldier said.

“Private,” said Maddy. “Any chance you’ve got a working radio around here?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He rifled through a desk drawer, pulled out a radio, and handed it to her.

She pressed the button to activate the mic. “Can you hear me?” she spoke into it.

“Roger. Go ahead,” the radio crackled.

“This is Madison Montgomery Godright. Two blocks east of La Brea, just south of Sunset, there is a doorway at number two-forty-three and a half Formosa. Inside you’ll find a body. The deceased is First Lieutenant Thomas Cooper of the U.S. Navy. He died a hero. . . .”

• • •

Inside the temporary Angel medical tent setup, Maddy screamed and struggled despite all efforts not to. An Angel doctor was peeling the makeshift bandages off her arm, pulling lots of destroyed skin off with them. Maddy’s consciousness began fading in and out, the pain so great that she lashed out at the doctor.

“Nurse!”

A nurse held her down and Maddy felt a prick—she’d been injected with something. Soon a warm fogginess spread throughout her body, and her arm didn’t feel quite as bad.

“This is a bad burn you’ve got here, Miss Godright,” the doctor said. “But it’s not as bad as it could be. We Angels have actually discovered a next-generation burn treatment that will help you look as good as new. The FDA has not yet approved it for human use, but it will be fine for you. It’ll leave a scar, that’s for sure. There’s no way around that. But it won’t be disfiguring. For now we will re-dress the burn and then begin treatment as soon as possible.”

Maddy nodded.

“Can I see the wing?” the doctor asked.

In an effort to avoid dealing with two excruciating pains at once, Maddy had only told the doctor about her burn. But he’d figured it out on his own. She began to sweat as she thought about the pain that had overcome her when she had retracted it in the storage room.

“Do I have to?” Maddy asked.

“I’m afraid so. It’s the only way for me to diagnose it and treat you.”

The doctor and nurse stepped away to give Maddy enough room to spread her famous wings.

Maddy could feel her Immortal Marks tingling, and then her right side began to hurt, badly. It felt a little bit like the first time her wings came out that first night, in the bathroom. Her breaths were coming fast and hard. Suddenly, her left wing ripped out with a
whoosh
, but the right wing wouldn’t follow. As expected, the pain was excruciating, even with the shot the nurse had given her.

Maddy yelled in pain. Just as she was starting to tumble off the examination table, the right wing emerged. The force of it caused Maddy to fall to the floor, knocking over her IV on the way. The doctor and nurse helped her to her feet. Her injured wing hadn’t straightened like it was supposed to.

Trying to deal with the pain as the doctor attempted to straighten it out, her entire body became covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Yes, yes, mm-hmm . . . three, four, two lateral movement,” he said to the nurse, who was taking notes. He kept relaying numbers that Maddy couldn’t understand. Finally he stopped reciting and looked at Maddy. His face was unreadable.

“As for the wing . . .”

“What? What do all those numbers mean?” she asked.

“It just means it’s very badly sprained and bruised. You won’t fly for a couple of months, at least,” he said. “It’s not broken, however. You’re lucky. You should see some of the wing injuries we’re dealing with in here. Some of these Guardians will never fly again. Tragic.”

Maddy thought of Jackson when he couldn’t fly and how he had to struggle with his very identity. The depression, his slow decline. With all the recent developments in Angel medical technology, she hoped there wouldn’t be too many Angels who were permanently disabled. Otherwise there might be a whole generation of Guardians sentenced to live underneath the shadow of this demon battle.

• • •

The door was locked, and she’d lost her keys somewhere along the way. Maddy had to knock.

She was met by her uncle, who had deep, dark bags under his eyes. His face was creased with worry and sleep deprivation.

“Maddy! Thank God!” He rushed to her and then paused when he saw her bandaged arm. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It hurts. My arm is burned and I’ll probably always have a scar. But I’m luckier than some.” Maddy’s voice faltered.

“What is it?” Kevin asked, a look of anticipated dread falling upon his face as he looked at his niece.

“Tom . . . Tom’s dead, Uncle Kevin,” she managed.

“What?” Kevin said, unable to contain his shock.

“He’s gone. I made a choice to protect Jacks, and then Tom had to die protecting me.” Maddy began crying silently. She knew this must be affecting her uncle: He and Tom had developed a close bond. No matter how hard she tried, every thought brought her back to Tom’s sacrifice.

Kevin searched for the right words. “This was a war, Maddy. You’re not responsible for what happened in a war.”

“But I’m the one who’s supposed to be a Guardian,” Maddy responded. “And I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t even save myself.”

Kevin put his hand on her shoulder. Maddy leaned in and let him hug her. He was careful not to press against her burned arm.

“It’s not your fault,” Kevin said. “It’s the fault of Gabriel, of the demons, the Council. It’s the fault of the whole system, which had become rotten to its core. Your father knew this twenty years ago, which is why he started fighting against the NAS.”

“I couldn’t not go after Jacks,” Maddy said. “I felt it so deep.”

Kevin looked down at her with gentle eyes. “Tom felt the same way about you.”

Maddy shed a few silent tears. “Why is everything always so complicated?”

Kevin just squeezed her tighter.

Maddy felt emptied out. And so tired. So, so tired.

“Will I ever be able to forget?” she asked.

“You will never forget,” Kevin said. “But you will be able to live. And that’s what those who have fallen would have wanted. That’s what my sister, your mother, would have wanted. And your father. And now, Tom.”

D
onations were streaming in from a grateful world to Angel City, which had served as the bulwark against the demon onslaught for the rest of the Earth. A horrified globe had watched the destruction unfold, and knew that if the Immortal City hadn’t made a stand, they would have been next.

Now supplies, money, and volunteers were streaming in to help pick up the pieces and rebuild a new Angel City. Instead of looking at it as a tragedy, many were trying to see it as an opportunity to look ahead to a brighter future.

That, and to think about what role the Immortals were going to have in it. That was the question on everyone’s minds.

Maddy did not have time for such questions, however. Not yet, at least. Four days after the end of the battle, she moved along what remained of the Walk of Angels. The famous street had been transformed into an open-air square for citizens to pay tribute to the Angels and humans who had sacrificed their lives in the battle against the demons. People brought flowers, left poems, and placed framed photos of those who’d been lost.

The warm sun spilled across the street, a welcome reminder that not all had been transformed. Maddy walked silently toward an open spot along the makeshift memorial.

Despite her large sunglasses, someone in the crowd recognized her.

“It’s Maddy!” a voice cried out.

Cameras began whirring, and people started shouting. Just like in the old days, when paparazzi and hordes of devoted fans would swarm around exclusive events. But as Maddy made her way to the memorial fence, the crowd grew quiet and respectfully parted to let her through. She carried a brown shopping bag under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her other hand.

The crowd remained hushed. A news camera was trained on her, quietly capturing the moment. They knew the instrumental role she had played in defeating the demons, and even though everyone was eager to hear what she had to say about the aftermath, they knew better than to bother her during such an emotional time.

Maddy opened the paper bag, pulled out a framed photo, and placed it along the fence. It was of Tom, standing by an F-18 fighter jet, grinning. The photo had been taken right after his graduation from flight school, and he looked completely at home. The label on the frame read: 1
ST
L
IEUTENANT
T
HOMAS
A
.
C
OOPER
, U
NITE
D
S
TATES
N
AVY
.

The reason for Maddy’s dark glasses became apparent, as her eyes began to well up with tears, thinking about what Tom had done for her. He had let her save Jackson and, ultimately, the city.

Next Maddy arranged the flowers, placing them in a vase that had also been in the bag. She paused for a minute, studying the photo before her, then turned to face the large crowd.

She took in each and every face of those who had also lost someone. These were faces that needed hope.

“I’d like to say something about Tom Cooper. Tom represented what was best in us as humans. He was loyal and loving, imperfect and maddening. He had heart. He was courageous. He was a true hero, in the face of tall odds. He saved my life, and died doing it. I know what it’s like to want to save someone you love. I know the feeling that led him to want to sacrifice his life.

“Many of you have also lost people you loved during this battle for Angel City. You may be wondering,
Why him? Why her?
There are no answers. Just know that they did not die in vain. Here we made a stand against the darkness. Here, in Angel City, the darkness was vanquished.

“Tom had faced death once before while defending this city, this country, this
world
. His plane crashed during the second wave of attacks and it was only through chance that an Angel found him floating in the waves.” Maddy’s voice broke for a moment, and she wiped tears away from under the sunglasses. “Even after he’d been badly injured, Tom still risked his life and gave his all. He saved me and, in the process, saved us all. And for that, we should be grateful. I know I will never be able to repay him for everything he’s taught me, or for what he did for me.”

Leaning down, Maddy reached into the brown paper bag for the last item she had brought with her.

She lay Tom’s leather jacket—the one he’d always worn to fly, and the one he’d worn when he first kissed Maddy—on the memorial.

“Tom, we’ll never forget you.”

• • •

The Walk of Angels was now a place for open displays of grief, a place for respect, and a place for reflection. Instead of paparazzi and designer boutiques, the pavement was lined with tributes, poems, and photos of those lost in the battle with the demon army. With cell phones and Internet still mostly down, it was also a place for families and loved ones who had been separated in the demon attack to try to find each other again. On a chain-link fence to the side of the temporary memorial for those who had died were pasted hundreds of notices looking for the missing.

Those military and civilian militia members wounded in the battle also moved in the crowds, paying solemn honor to those who had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with them on the front lines. Displayed above them was a large photograph of Archangel Mark Godspeed. In the portrait, Jackson’s stepfather stood in the head offices of the NAS, wearing his tailored Italian suit, one hand in the pocket of his trousers, the button on his jacket undone. This was the way Jacks would always remember him. To the left of the portrait was a smaller photo of Mark with his family, Kris, Chloe, and Jacks.

And pinned nearby was a large photo of Lieutenant Tom Cooper, U.S. Navy.