Guardian Angel (8 page)

Read Guardian Angel Online

Authors: Adrian Howell

BOOK: Guardian Angel
5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Ed Regis kept us to the back alleys as much as possible as we made our way to a public park several blocks from our crash site. He had been right about me lacking fluids, and I felt immensely better after taking a long drink from the park’s water fountain. Alia took care of our remaining bumps and bruises, including the nasty one I got on the side of my head when our car was shot up by the gunship.

“Sixteen hours, right?” said Ed Regis, referring to the hiding protection Rachael had given Alia and me. “It should wear off well before noon tomorrow. We just have to stay out of sight until then, and Scott should be able to find us.”

“How hard can it be?” I said.

We had no money, no weapons, no change of clothes and nowhere to go. It reminded me a little of my first days on the run as a child psionic, but there was an all-important difference here, which was that I wasn’t alone.

It wasn’t quite midnight yet. Ed Regis ruled out staying the night in the park as there were no decent hiding spots and someone might deem us suspicious enough to call the police. I suggested my old fallback of climbing a building’s fire escape and camping out on the roof, but Ed Regis pointed out that we could be spotted from above and that we wouldn’t have a viable escape route.

“What we need to do right now is blend in,” said Ed Regis.

We joined up with a small group of homeless people living out of some abandoned, broken-down cars. They probably saw right through us, but didn’t question Ed Regis’s claim that we were a family and that we had been recently evicted from our house. Ed Regis made it clear to them that we would only be there one night, and they kindly shared their food and drink, which was meager but much appreciated.

We were prepared to sleep out in the open, but one elderly man offered to let us stay in the van that he called home. He cleared out his clutter of cans and other junk so that there would be room for three in the back. Then he himself took the driver’s seat, which was broken and couldn’t even be tilted back.

“We can’t thank you enough,” Ed Regis said to him.

He smiled in the rearview mirror, showing a mouthful of chipped, yellow teeth. “Everybody falls down sometimes,” he said sympathetically. “You look like a nice family. I’m sure you’ll be alright in the end.”

That night, we stuck close in the van and slept very little. There was no telling when another team of Wolves might shine flashlights into our hiding place and drag us out like they did just hours ago, and while we might be just as powerless to stop them, we still had to be awake. Just in case.

 

Chapter 4: A Rapidly Changing World

 

We wanted to leave the homeless group at first light, but they insisted that we share their breakfast. One man even gave me an old sweatshirt which, though a little loose on me, was warm, comfortable and moderately clean.

As touched as we were by their generosity, I was relieved when we finally parted company. They had next to nothing, and yet they would help complete strangers for no reason at all, and here I was on a mission to kill the last surviving member of my own blood. Something just didn’t feel right.

We made our way back to the park. I returned Ed Regis’s jacket and we cleaned up as best we could at the water fountain.

Lifting up my sweatshirt, Alia carefully examined her latest work in the daylight. The gash in my lower right side had come back together pretty sloppily, leaving a long and messy scar.

“Sorry, Addy,” said Alia, running her fingertips along the uneven line. “The wind was really just too much.”

Alia wasn’t a reconstructive healer, but she nevertheless prided herself on precise healing. Personally, I didn’t care. It was just another scar.

We found a table at the end of the park’s picnic field. We didn’t have anything picnic-like to spread out, but at least it wasn’t a school day so we didn’t look too out of place here now that the sun was up.

“Just a couple more hours,” Ed Regis assured us. “Scott’s team is probably already out at our original rendezvous point. They’ll know something went wrong, and once your hiding bubbles fade, they’ll be here in a flash.”

That did little to alleviate my fears. Now we knew why we had been put on the police database. The Angels had taken control of our government, which was something we hadn’t expected for several more years at the earliest. This was no longer a war between two psionic factions. The longer we stayed in the open, the greater our risk of capture.

Ed Regis helped pass the hours by telling us stories of his youth. He had grown up on a farm, the oldest of three brothers, and he had some funny stories to tell, including one that involved riding a horse into his living room. I wasn’t sure I believed everything he said, but at least it was entertaining.

Ed Regis also told us how lucky we had been on the cargo plane. He strongly suspected that none of Ms. Decker’s soldiers were trained Wolves. They were probably just Angel Seraphim playing dress-up. It might have only been due to my VIP status with King Divine that Ms. Decker didn’t properly restrain us, but real Wolves would have certainly had us in chains and possibly drugged unconscious. They would have kept Alia drained regardless of her age or lack of combat powers, and they wouldn’t have been wearing grenades like that on an airplane. Thus, at least according to Ed Regis, our escape had been comparatively easy.

“I have a hunch the Angels don’t yet have complete control over the Wolves,” said Ed Regis. “Your Ms. Decker probably didn’t trust them enough to let them fly with us to Randal Divine’s location.”

“I hope that’s true,” I said, unable to keep myself from looking around nervously every few minutes.

Noon came and went, but Scott didn’t appear. Alia finally voiced the thought I had been too afraid to say out loud. “Something happened to them, too,” she said quietly. “They’re not coming for us.”

“Faith, Alia,” said Ed Regis.

Psionic hiding protection is neither visible nor tangible, and Ed Regis suggested that perhaps Rachael had given us a slightly conservative estimate on our time. But even he agreed that our protection must have worn off by now, and as the deep orange sun slowly slid behind the cityscape, Ed Regis announced that we would have to find another place to spend the night.

“But we’re no longer hidden,” argued Alia. “If Wood-claw isn’t out looking for us, then someone else is.”

“I know,” said Ed Regis. “If Scott doesn’t find us by sunup, we’ll have to start thinking about other options.”

Alia huffed. “What other options?”

“We’ll think of something.”

“Ed Regis is right,” I said to my sister. “One thing at a time.”

Alia looked as unconvinced as I felt, but we needn’t have worried. The moment we stood up to leave the park, we saw Scott and Rachael coming our way.

Alia let out a cry of joy in my head. I sensed she was about to break into a run, so I grabbed her arm and kept us at a slow walk. Scott would know by our powers that we weren’t Angel shape-shifters or anything, but we could still be part of a trap. I suspected that there were hidden Wood-claw Knights watching us, and it wouldn’t be safe to do anything that could be misinterpreted.

Once we closed the gap, Ed Regis asked Scott, “Do you trust us or would you like to ask a security question?”

“We trust you,” Scott said calmly. “Do you trust us?”

Ed Regis nodded. “Not that we have much of a choice right now, but yes.”

“Where’s your car?” asked Scott.

“We lost it,” Ed Regis replied simply.

Rachael said, “Well, our van is parked just outside, and it has a hiding field so let’s not stay here.”

As we walked together toward the exit, I asked, “What took you guys so long?”

“I’m sorry about that,” said Scott. “We had some trouble getting Mrs. Harding’s permission to bring you in.” Then he glanced at our dirty clothes and added, “But I guess you guys had some trouble, too.”

“Let’s hear yours first,” I suggested as we left the park and headed to Scott’s white van, which was waiting for us on the curb, engine running.

Hammer, the snappish Knight from yesterday evening, was at the wheel. He looked even crankier now, and silently started driving as soon as we closed the doors. Scott rode beside him and Rachael sat with us in the back, putting cloth blindfolds around our eyes.

“Please don’t take those off until we’re inside the building,” said Rachael. “Especially Alia, since you’re still too young to use a mind-writer on.”

“Okay,” said Alia.

“So why did Harding want to keep you guys from coming for us?” I asked, closing my eyes and leaning back into the seat.

Scott explained, “There was a plane crash last night. You might not have heard about it, though. It wasn’t on the news. It was a military transport, and Mrs. Harding thinks that it might have been carrying Wolves. She put Wood-claw on high alert: no one in or out for a while.”

“Where did the plane crash?” I asked.

“Nowhere near Wood-claw,” said Scott. “But it’s still a serious issue for us.”

“I meant did it crash inside the city?”

“Oh, no, if that had happened, the press would have been all over it. Mrs. Harding said it crashed somewhere just outside the city limits. We don’t know much more about it, though. Mrs. Harding thinks there’s going to be a surge of Wolves in the city until they finish dealing with it.”

“She’s probably right,” said Ed Regis.

“The whole thing is just a big nuisance,” said Scott. “So, anyway, what kind of trouble did you guys run into?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer that within earshot of Hammer. “Nothing serious. We’ll tell you later,” I said lightly. I quickly changed the subject, asking, “So how is everyone doing? Still alive and kicking?”

“Pretty much,” said Scott.

Alia asked hesitantly, “How’s Susan?”

Susan had been on my mind too. Her older sister, Felicity, had been killed when the Angels raided our house to kidnap Alia. For all of their frequent and loud arguments, Susan had been very close to her sister. Susan’s outrage at being forced to evacuate early had been partly from her fear of being separated.

“Susan is alright,” said Scott, and added, “I mean, she is now.”

Rachael explained, “Susan was really down for a few months, kind of hollowed out after… you know. She was a bit like Max, just sitting around all day and hardly talking to anyone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. Sorry, but not surprised. That’s just what happens when someone you love suddenly dies.

Rachael continued, “But then a really nice family adopted her. Recently, she’s pretty okay.”

“Does she…” Alia started to ask, but her voice quickly trailed off.

Rachael asked curiously, “Does she what, Alia?”

My sister couldn’t bring herself to say it, so I did, asking, “Does she blame us for what happened?”

“Blame you?” Rachael asked in a surprised tone. “Of course not! Susan’s a fighter. She understands.”

Scott said, “Hey, Alia, you know those little kids you used to teach combat to? Rachael and I took over the classes after you left, and we still have them twice a week.”

Rachael added, “And since about mid-summer, Susan’s been helping out almost every class. It’s been really good for her too.”

“A lot of things have changed,” said Scott. “I think everyone has pretty much forgiven us for what happened at Walnut. They’re really nice to us now.”

Sure they are,
I thought to myself wryly,
now that you guys are helping to protect them.

I couldn’t say that out loud since our driver would hear. I hoped Hammer’s attitude was the exception to how we would be treated at Wood-claw.

A few minutes later, I heard Alia yawn loudly. I couldn’t help following suit.

Rachael said, “We’re just about there, but remember you can’t remove your blindfolds until we say so, okay?”

I felt the van make a sharp left turn down a steep ramp, and then slowly back into a parking space.

Exiting the van, I could tell by the sounds and the air that we were in an underground parking lot not unlike the one under New Haven One. We held hands, and Scott and Rachael guided us to an elevator. As we got in, Rachael explained that we were in a seven-story apartment building, and that all of the apartments from the first floor up belonged to the families of Wood-claw.

Scott said, “We managed to kick… I mean,
convince
the last of the former residents to move out before the summer started. Everyone got a fair price for their troubles.”

“We have two guest houses on the second floor, but they’re kind of like prisons,” Rachael said apologetically. “The windows are all boarded up so you can’t see outside.”

The elevator stopped. We were guided along several yards of carpeted corridor. A door was opened, and we stepped into what I assumed was one of the apartments.

“Can we take these off now?” I asked.

Instead of an answer, I suddenly felt a pair of lips touch my own. I jumped a little and almost released a telekinetic blast in my surprise, but as I felt her arms around me, I hugged her back, and found her lips again.

Candace lifted up my blindfold. “Welcome home,” she whispered.

“I missed you,” I said, gazing into her deep blue eyes.

Rachael was having trouble suppressing a laugh as she undid Ed Regis and Alia’s blindfolds. Candace was three years older than me and almost a full head taller, and I discovered that I was levitating myself to compensate. I quickly set my feet back onto the floor.

Once her blindfold came off, Alia instantly jumped into Candace’s arms.

“Oh, you got so big!” said Candace, picking her up. “We were all so worried about you!”

I looked around. We were in a modestly furnished living room. The only window was covered by wooden boards, painted the same off-white as the walls, but otherwise it was a perfectly normal and livable place. Rachael had no idea what a prison was like.

James was there too, sitting on a long sofa, but not Terry.

“Terry’s taking a shower,” James said unnecessarily. We could hear the water running.

Letting go of Candace, Alia said weakly, “I’m really hungry.”

Other books

Sentinels by Matt Manochio
The Baby Experiment by Anne Dublin
The Shameful State by Sony Labou Tansi
Home Run by Marie, Bernadette
The Driver by Mark Dawson
Grand Canary by A. J. Cronin