End of Days (Penryn and the End of Day #3) (9 page)

‘Not a chance.’ Raffe reaches for my backpack and pulls out his trench coat and cap.

‘I know it’s hard for you to wait while I scope out the situation, but I can handle it. Besides, who’s going to watch Paige?’ As soon as I ask this question, I know it’s the wrong thing to say. You don’t tell an elite soldier to stay behind and watch the kids.

‘Her pets can babysit.’ He puts on his coat, carefully shifting his shoulders until the wings settle beneath the fabric. He slips on the backpack for good measure. His feathered wings are wrapped in a blanket and strapped to the pack, looking like an ordinary bedroll. His demon wings can mold themselves to his back, but the pack hides any unusual bulges that might catch someone’s eye.

Everything about this situation makes me nervous. Raffe is walking into a camp full of hostiles. Paige shouldn’t be so close to people who wanted to tear her to pieces. And the last time I saw Obi, he had me arrested.

There’s also a part of me that doesn’t want Raffe eavesdropping on people. Of course, I’ve repeatedly trusted him with my life, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s one of the enemy. Any minute now, we might have to choose our loyalties. When that happens, I’d be an idiot to think we’ll be on the same side.

But my instincts tell me that out of all the things to worry about right now, that’s low on the list. My sensei always told me to trust my instincts, that my gut knows things my brain doesn’t and can figure things out faster.

Of course, my instincts have told me things about Raffe that haven’t panned out. My cheeks warm at the thought of what happened with him earlier today in bed.

He flips the collar on his coat and buttons it all the way up to cover his bare chest, then puts on his cap. Even though we had a warm day, the October night is chilly enough that he won’t look suspicious. California nights can easily be twenty degrees colder than the days.

‘Stay here, Paige. We’ll be back soon, okay?’

Paige is already busy quieting her locusts and hardly seems to notice us. I don’t like leaving her, but I can’t take her into camp either. The last time she was here, the frightened Resistance people lassoed her like an animal, and who knows what they would have done if the locusts hadn’t attacked. I can’t expect the angry villager attitude to have changed since then.

As soon as we start moving, I feel eyes watching me. I keep looking around, but I don’t see anything. On the edge of my vision, though, I see shadows shifting.

‘Locust victims,’ whispers Raffe.

I’m guessing this means that they haven’t been accepted into camp. I don’t think they’re dangerous, but I rest my hand on Pooky Bear, taking comfort in the soft fur. Then I take a deep breath and continue through the dark grove.

15

The school grounds are quiet and seemingly deserted. I guesstimate that there must be a few thousand people here now. But you’d never know it.

Obi has done such a great job of setting up the refugee camp that even the new people follow the rules. They know not to walk out in the open. The amount of trash here is no greater and no worse than trash floating anywhere else in Silicon Valley. The entire campus is so quiet that I’d almost be surprised if I saw anyone here.

But once we get close enough to the buildings, we can see the dim lights glowing inside. The windows are covered by blankets and towels, but some have been put up sloppily, letting light and motion slip through the edges.

I step up to a window and peek through a crack. The room is jammed with people. They look reasonably well fed, some almost clean. I don’t recognize them – they must be the Alcatraz refugees. I look through another window and see the same. With this many new people, the whole place must be filled with chaos and confusion.

I see a guy through one window who comes into a classroom with a bag of food. He passes it out, and it’s gone in no time. He puts his hands up and says something to the people still reaching out to him even though the food is gone. There’s an argument, but the man slips out of the door before it can get too heated.

The lucky ones gobble up their food as fast as they can while the others watch with an intensity that’s uncomfortable. The crowd mills around, churning until a whole new group of people stand in the prime spot near the door, probably waiting for the next batch of food.

‘What are you doing?’ asks a harsh voice.

I spin around to see two guys in camouflage holding rifles.

‘Just . . . nothing.’

‘Well, do your nothing inside where the birds can’t see you. Weren’t you listening during the orientation?’

‘I’m looking for someone. Do you know where the twins are? Dee and Dum?’

‘Yeah, right,’ says the guard. ‘Like they have time to talk to every teenage girl crying for her lost puppy. Next thing you know, you’ll be asking to see Obadiah West. Those guys have a whole camp to run. They don’t have time for stupid questions.’

I can only blink at them, probably convincing them that yes, I was planning on asking some stupid questions. They point us to the nearest door.

‘Get back to your assigned room. Someone will be bringing food as soon as they can, and you’ll be shipped to a nice hotel room when it’s dark enough to hide the envoy.’

‘Hide from what?’

They look at me like I’m nuts. ‘The angels.’ One gives the other a look that says
duh
.

‘But they can see in the dark,’ I say.

‘Who told you that? They can’t see in the dark. The only thing they can do better than us is fly.’

The other guard says, ‘They can hear better than us too.’

‘Yeah, whatever,’ says the first guy. ‘But they can’t see in the dark.’

‘But I’m telling you—’ I stop when Raffe taps me on the arm. He nods toward the door and begins walking. I follow.

‘They don’t know that angels can see in the dark.’ I forgot that I know things about the angels that maybe other people don’t. ‘They need to know.’

‘Why?’ asks Raffe.

‘Because people need to know that angels can see us if we ever try to’ –
attack them
 – ‘hide in the dark.’

He eyes me as if he read my thoughts, but of course, he doesn’t need to read my mind. It’s pretty obvious why it would benefit the humans to know the angels’ powers.

Raffe walks beside me up the steps to the doors. ‘You can talk until your lips fall off, but it won’t do you any good. These are foot soldiers. Their job is to follow orders. Nothing else.’

And he would know. He’s a soldier himself, isn’t he? A soldier for the wrong army.

It dawns on me that even though Uriel is creating a false apocalypse and is out to kill Raffe, that doesn’t mean Raffe is willing to help humans win the war against his own people. I’ve had plenty of humans try to kill me since the Great Attack, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to help the angels wipe out the humans. Far from it.

The guards watch us until we walk into the building.

As soon as we get inside, I have to fight a wave of claustrophobia. The hallway is crammed with people moving in different directions. When you’re my size, being in a crowd means all you can see are the torsos and heads of the people nearest you.

Raffe looks even more uncomfortable than I feel. In a crowd this tight, he can’t help but have people brushing up against his blanket-wrapped wings strapped to his backpack. We can only hope that no one notices anything strange.

He stands stiffly with his back to the door without moving in. He looks so out of place that I almost feel sorry for him. He shakes his head at me.

I try to blend in as best I can. We shouldn’t have to be here long before the guards leave the area.

Obi must have his hands full with all these new people. I sprung the Alcatraz rescue on them at the last minute, so it’s a wonder he even managed to collect boats and organize people to rescue the captives on the island. Of course he didn’t have time to prepare for them once they got here.

I imagine it’s been quite a day for the Resistance. Obi’s not just running freedom fighters anymore. He’s had to put together a refugee camp full of scared, hungry people while still keeping the organization as stealthy as possible.

I have my issues with Obi. I can’t say he’s going to be my best friend or anything, but I have to admit, he’s taken on a lot that no one else would.

I consider going deeper into the building to try to see if I can find Doc or Dee-Dum. The twins are sure to know where Doc is. But it’s too crowded and chaotic in here, and I don’t like the idea of being trapped in the middle of a building full of panicking refugees if something happens.

I’m about to tell Raffe we should go as soon as the guards move on when I hear my name. It’s not a voice I recognize, and I can’t tell who said it since no one is looking at me. Everyone looks busy having their own conversations.

Then someone else says my name on the other side of the hallway. Still, no one is looking at us.

‘Penryn.’

I see the guy who spoke. He has curly hair and wears a huge shirt that hangs on his scarecrow shoulders and a pair of oversized pants held up by a cinched belt. It’s as if he’s used to being extra large and hasn’t mentally adjusted to his postapocalyptic weight. He’s several people away from me down the hallway but still close enough to hear. I don’t recognize him or anyone around him.

‘Penryn?’ asks the woman speaking to the guy. ‘What kind of name is that?’

They’re not calling me. They’re talking
about
me.

The guy shrugs. ‘Probably some foreign name that means angel slayer.’

‘Yeah, right. So do you believe it?’

‘What? That she killed an angel?’

How did they know about that?

He shrugs again. ‘Don’t know.’ He lowers his voice. ‘All I know is that it would be amazing to have a safety pass from the angels.’

The woman shakes her head. ‘No way would they keep their word. How would we even know if they’re really putting a bounty on her head?’

I exchange glances with Raffe at the word
bounty
.

‘Some street gang could’ve just made this whole thing up to kill her,’ she says. ‘Maybe she’s one of their enemies or something. Who knows? The whole world’s gone crazy.’

‘I know one thing,’ says another guy closer to me. He wears glasses with a big crack on one lens. ‘Whether it was the angels or gangs or demons from hell who put the bounty on that girl, it ain’t gonna be me who turns her in.’ He shakes his head.

‘Me neither,’ says another man nearby. ‘I heard it was Penryn who saved us from that nightmare on Alcatraz.’

‘Obadiah West saved us,’ says the woman. ‘And so did those funny twins. What were their names?’

‘Tweedledee and Tweedledum.’

‘That can’t be right.’

‘I kid you not.’

‘Yeah, but it was the girl Penryn who told them to do it. She’s the one who got them to rescue us.’

‘I heard she threatened to sic her monster sister on them if they didn’t.’

‘Penryn—’

‘She’s a friend of mine,’ says one woman I’ve never seen before. ‘We’re like sisters.’

I lower my head, hoping no one recognizes me. Luckily, no one even notices us. As I make my way toward the door, I see a flyer taped to it. The only thing I catch as I pass are the words ‘Talent Show.’

I have visions of amateur tuba players and tap dancers. A talent show is an odd thing to have during the apocalypse. But then again, it’s an odd thing to have at any time.

Raffe pushes through the door, and we head back into the night.

16

Outside, the air is fresh and quiet compared with the stuffiness and noise inside. We skulk in the shadows until we reach the adobe mission-style building that Obi uses as his headquarters. This door has the same flyer. I pause to read it.

TALENT SHOW

Don’t miss the biggest thing since the last Oscars!

Bigger than the Great Attack! Bigger than Obi’s ego! Bigger than Boden’s BO!

Come one, come all

To the greatest show of all!

Win a custom-made, bulletproof, luxury RV!

Filled with every survival supply imaginable.

Yup. Even that.

Next Wed. at noon at the Stanford Theater on University Ave.

Amaze your friends. Befuddle your enemies. Show off your talents.

Auditions every evening

Ladies welcome

The usual betting rules apply on the contestants.

~ Brought to you by You Know Who ~

This flyer has comments scrawled all over it in different handwriting:

‘Nothing could be bigger than Obi’s ego.’

‘Is that what the ladies are calling it? Hey, Obi – leave some women for the rest of us, would ya?’

‘Obadiah West is a great man. A hero. Even I’m thinking about giving him a kiss.’