Midnight's Angels - 03

by Tony Richards

  Dozens of the things went scuttling up, gravity not doing a thing to stop them. They seemed to be adults to the last. There were no smaller figures in among them.

  I thought at first that they were going to try and tear the posts down. But it turned out that was not the plan. The leading creatures reached the top, and started grabbing at the actual cables. I jumped in my seat so hard that the whole Caddy rocked. Then watched, horrified, as the inevitable happened.

  Their hands remained locked, even when their feet fell loose. And they began to fry and crackle, streams of gray smoke pouring from their frames. You would have thought that sight would make the ones behind them pause. But it didn’t, not a tiny bit.

  More of them came rushing up, and went through the exact same motions. The fact that they were committing suicide, and willingly, showed me the kind of power they were under.

  Within less than a minute, there had to be some hundred figures dangling from the lines. Just hanging there like weird, unpleasant bunting. The electricity had spasmed their hands, holding them in place. The fact that they had once been human made the sight even more awful. And a few finally dropped away. But even more were surging up, replacing them.

  Until finally, the inevitable happened. A fitting tore loose, and there was an almighty flash.

  And then this whole district, every street around me, was plunged into depthless gloom. From the windows nearest me, I could hear muffled voices shouting.

  * * *

  My eyes fought to adjust again. There was only the distant glow of the moon providing any illumination. I glanced anxiously at the town center, saw it was still lit. And that was good. Only it looked so far away by now. Might as well have been the bright lights of a distant shoreline, viewed from far out on a black, reflective sea.

  The angels were the only shining objects left. And they were on the move again. Except it was not only them.

  People must have gone to their windows, seen the pale shapes and the hominids. And finally understood the kind of danger they were in.

  Panic began spreading along Greenwood Terrace. Front doors were flung open. And some garage doors came scraping up. The people in the houses around me were either piling into vehicles, or trying to get away on foot.

  I couldn’t sit here and watch this. So I came out through the driver’s door with my gun in my hand. Took a straight-armed aim and began firing, emptying the whole chamber. But from this distance, I only managed to wing two of the hunched attackers.

  It didn’t even seem to get their notice. But what if the angels spotted me, and came at me again? I didn’t even allow myself to think about that, just rummaged in my pockets for more ammunition.

  A ghastly scene was unfolding in front of me, the entire thing in murky monochrome. Of the people trying to flee, it was the ones on foot who were faring the worst. The cars were plowing straight between the hominids, managing to knock some of them over. But, right in front of my horrified gaze, a couple in their late fifties came hobbling across their front yard. Neither of them were in good shape. They limped and struggled. Then about a score of crouched shapes -- in a tight cluster -- came rushing across, completely overwhelming them.

  The couple was dragged down, flailing wildly. Some of the creatures sat on them, pinning them firmly to the ground. And then two more gave their victims what looked weirdly like a deep, devouring kiss. And they were released immediately after that.

  When the couple got back up, they were on all fours too. They had no difficulty moving now. Scampering swiftly, they joined the general pack, which was loping back and forth across the pavement. And then the pair of them began attacking people who had been their neighbors.

  Vehicles were slewing past me. They were packed with frightened townsfolk, terrified faces behind each pane of glass. I doubted they knew what was going on. But if you’re born in the Landing, you teach yourself to move first and think later.

  The angels were not making any effort to join in the attack. They were hovering above the street, overseeing matters. Letting their minions do the work. And those damned hominids actually looked like they were enjoying themselves.

  I found one final bullet, but it spun to the blacktop from my nerveless fingers. So I started bending, then saw something else.

  Off to the right, a teenaged girl had managed to get part of the way out of there. She had to be about fifteen, skinny. Still in her school uniform, her skirt flapping around her as she ran. She was moving like a basketball pro, dodging and sidestepping. But that movement had caught the hominids’ attention, and their heads came jerking up.

  At least thirty of them broke away from the main pack and started closing in on her.

  One bullet would not stop this. I jumped back in my car. Slammed the Caddy into drive and switched my headlamps to full beam. Floored the gas, went rushing in.

  The bright glow from the car’s lights washed across the things, and that got a reaction. They jumped out of the way, their faces becoming contorted as the beams touched them. It wouldn’t give me much, but at least a few valuable seconds.

  I pulled up next to the kid and flung my passenger door open.

  “Get in!”

  She stumbled to a halt, but was so confused she didn’t seem to hear me properly. Stood there gawking numbly, one fist jammed against her open mouth. I yelled at her again, then sounded the car’s horn, but it made no difference. Her mind had gone elsewhere.

  A few of the hominids had already figured this thing out. My beams could only point in one direction. They were edging around again, coming in from the sides. They did it warily, obviously afraid I might have something else. But more of them had noticed and begun to do the same. Goddamn it.

  There was a box of ammunition in my glove compartment. I could see no other choice, and so I lurched toward it.

  And that was when something unexpected made me pause. Another light was abruptly shining, powerfully, through my rear windshield. Another headlamp beam, a single one this time.

  The familiar blast of a twin-cam Harley engine hammered at my senses.

  And some people don’t care for the sound. But I have to admit, it was music to my ears.

  CHAPTER 22

  When she clambered off her bike and started jogging forward, she remained in silhouette, the cyclopean headlamp on the Harley rendering her that way. So far as I could tell, she was dressed pretty much the same way as she had been on the riverbank. Except a silvery flash of buckles told me that she’d put her boots back on.

  She must have gone back home before she’d headed off in this direction. That was where she’d left her weapons when she’d gone into the forest. Her twin Glocks were dangling from her hips, so much a part of her it looked like she’d been born wearing them. And she had her shotgun, the Mossberg 590 she’d used so many times to such impressive effect. Although -- unusually -- she was not holding that particular weapon. She had it on a sling across her back.

  The way that she was moving made my brow crease. Something had definitely changed. Cass had always been good in a fight, don’t get me wrong. She learned it the hard way mostly, as part of a motorcycle gang.

  But there had always been a ragged quality to everything she did, as if she had a powder keg inside her, ready to explode. Now though, with all hell erupting around us, she looked very calm, controlled, her every motion smooth and measured.

  The hominids who’d been closing in around us backed off a little as she approached. Mindless they might be, but these things seemed to have strong instincts of their own. They did not seem sure what they were dealing with, and stared at her, their heads cocked to one side.

  But then they saw that she was only human, and grew bolder again. The ones at the front bared their teeth and padded closer. My chest thumped when I saw that. But Cass ignored it, behaving pretty much like she was going fishing and was simply trying to pick the spot.

  A creature rushed at her. Cassie barely even looked at the thing. She simply snatched out a Glock with her lef
t hand -- she’s ambidextrous, so far as I’ve ever been able to tell. And pumped a slug into its leg. It collapsed to the ground, writhing and whining.

  “All these houses empty?” she called across to me, indicating those nearest us.

  I didn’t get what she was driving at, but told her that I hoped so.

  “Better be,” I heard her mutter.

  She pumped another couple of bullets into the limbs of the approaching pack, choosing those who looked like they were getting really testy. Then she stepped across to the closest front yard.

  And drew her second Glock as well, her trigger fingers pumping. She was not shooting at anything alive this time. She opened fire on the broad front windows, blasting at them until most of the glass had dropped away. Holstered her side arms while the final pieces were still dropping, and then yanked the shotgun off her back.

  I stared at her, wondering if she’d gone crazy. What exactly was she hoping to achieve? The real threat was coming from all around her, not from someone’s empty living room.

  Cassie opened fire, slamming out three shots in quick succession. And normally, plenty of dust and debris would have been apparent as the rounds struck home. She normally loaded the Mossberg with ‘saboted’ slugs, capable of punching holes through concrete. Except this time …

  Three bright red flashes tore apart the darkness of the living room. Then flames began appearing, spreading rapidly across the furniture and drapes. It took me by surprise, but I finally worked out what she was doing. She’d swapped her normal ammo for incendiary shells. Flares.

  My gaze swung to the hominids. A few of them looked ready to attack. But the swelling yellow brightness gave them second thoughts. Their soulless eyes were squinting, and they looked bewildered.

  Cass paid them no mind, moving smoothly to the next house along and repeating the same process. Then she did likewise to another place across the street. If the folks who’d owned those homes survived this, then she’d have a lot to answer for.

  But she was achieving what I couldn’t. Flames from the first house were licking up across the roof by this juncture.

  The angels finally saw what she was up to. And attempted to swoop down in her direction. But a second roof burst into flame. The brilliance propelled them back. They were forced to hover in the dim air at the edges of its reach.

  In less than a minute, great swathes of flickering, dancing yellow were washing across this entire block. And there was no way to make it stop. The trick with the power cables couldn’t be repeated.

  The hominids were shrinking away, scuttling back into the deep shadows of Tyburn. And even the angels had no option but to give up and withdraw from view, their chill glow diminishing.

  When Cassie headed back to me, she was no longer in outline. The firelight revealed her clearly. Her square-jawed features were composed. Her eyes, almost jet black, had a powerful, determined gleam. She looked a different Cassie to the one I’d known before the forest. Equally as strong and capable, but with the rougher edges smoothed out somewhat.

  “That’ll hold ‘em for a while,” she called to me. “But not forever.”

  Then she reached the teenaged girl who I’d been trying to save. The poor, skinny thing still hadn’t taken in what had been going on around her, terror rooting her to the spot.

  Cassie gave her a nudge with her free hand, getting her attention.

  Then said, “Get in the car, dummy.”

  So perhaps she hadn’t really changed that much.

  * * *

  We met up again at Union Square, on the spread of wide gray flagstones, the globe-shaped lanterns shining like small planets and the statue at the center peering down. By then, the teenager -- who turned out to be called Ellie -- had snapped out of her trance and was making me wish she hadn’t, gabbing at me like a stuck record, conveying the same information every fifty or so seconds. Her folks were going through a hard time in their marriage, but had decided to try and make it work. She hoped they stayed together, because she loved both of them. They were out for dinner, only half a block away from here.

  Well, we all had our problems, I supposed. I told her I was sure things would work out.

  “How? You don’t even know them!”

  Descending herds of monsters obviously took second place in this young woman’s train of thought. Or maybe she was blocking what had happened out. I told her I just got this feeling everything would be all right. She seemed pleased with that, nodding vigorously. And, as soon as I had stopped the car, she was out of the passenger door and running off to find them.

  I’d been that age once. Watched her figure melt into the distance, hoping she’d come through this in one piece. She’d already had the luckiest of starts.

  Then I returned my attention to the Harley, which was already parked in front of me. I got out. Cassie switched her motor off, but remained on the bike.

  “How did you know where I was?” I asked her.

  She stared at me evenly. “A little help from a certain red-eyed friend.”

  Which was what I had already figured.

  “Are you back for good, or is this just a visit?”

  Cass shrugged. “I’ve no particular plans. Playing it by ear, from this point on.”

  Looking at her in the electric light, I could see that there were smears of grime across her chin and forearms. Some thin scratches on the latter, too. I hadn’t really taken those in the last time that we’d spoken. But now that she was back in a more civilized environment, the plain fact was she might be healthy but she looked a ragged mess.

  Living out of doors can be hard on the human body, even one as resilient as hers. She was leaner than before, and she had never been that chunky in the first place. Her clothes looked like the seams were going to unravel. And, frankly, she smelled strongly of the river, which she’d been washing in the last two months.

  None of which meant I was anything less than extremely pleased to see her. My heart lightened for the first time in several days.

  “Occurs to me I ought to thank you.”

  “No need. Never has been.” She tipped her head a couple of inches to the side. “Know what your father told me one time?”

  Which took me aback a little. I had never realized she knew him.

  “Only met him once,” she explained. “He was on duty.”

  Which meant that she had still been on the wrong side of the law when they had come across each other. But I held my tongue, letting her continue.

  “He said, ‘friends, they look out for each other, watch each other’s backs.’”

  Something tugged at my emotions when she mouthed those words, old memories from my childhood coming back.

  “Yeah, that sounds like him,” I grunted.

  “What bothers me is, if I start watching your back again, who exactly watches mine?”

  I stuck my lower lip out. “I do. You know that.”

  She thought about it.

  “Maybe that’s why we keep on going round in circles.”

  Cass looked weary for a moment. Then she broke out in a big, warm smile. I was about to do the same thing when her head lifted. Her whole body tightened. Any hint of relaxation vanished from her face, her dark eyes blazing.

  And she wasn’t even looking at me. She was staring past my shoulder.

  “Holy Mother of God!”

  I spun around to see what had caught her attention. Had the angels and the hominids come back already? But it wasn’t even the right direction.

  I couldn’t make out anything, at first. Until Cassie pointed and told me, “Up there!”

  When I lifted my gaze above the clustered rooftops, taking in the huge dark bulk looming over them …

  I tried to suck in a breath, but couldn’t.

  Because it wasn’t only Tyburn this time. Every single light on Sycamore Hill was going out.

  CHAPTER 23

  The moon was still out, although half-hidden by a line of clouds. The night sky had taken on a slight silver-blue
tinge at its edge because of that. Constellations were apparent, the stars winking down at us. And against this frozen majesty, the spreading blackness on the hill looked even more horrifying.

  How was this even happening? That entire neighborhood was a place of enormous wealth and power. And it wasn’t merely the rich inhabitants. Almost every single one of our major adepts lived up there.

  To see it being snatched away from us as easily as this … it went against everything that I’d grown up believing. It seemed to be turning out that the place wasn’t so special after all. It was as vulnerable as any other part of town.

  But not everything had been lost. Two shapes lifted, off there in the distance, and then sped in our direction. They were not glowing, and I was deeply relieved to see that. My lungs re-acquainted themselves with fresh air. They were twin dark smudges, hurtling through the night sky like a pair of animated clouds.

  They circled over the Town Hall, then settled down on the flagstones in front of us before resolving into human shapes. Martha Howard-Brett and Lehman Willets, the pair of them looking very badly shaken. Martha’s auburn hair was askew, and the doctor had an expression like he’d run an entire marathon, backwards.

  They steadied themselves, then stared at us from bloodless faces, their eyes wide.

  “The angels again?”

  “Only one,” gasped Martha.

  So it was the third. The others had to still be back in Tyburn. I recalled how Willets had fought them off last night, and wondered what had gone wrong this time. My gaze kept going past them to the hill, but I could make out no white shimmers.

  “It got the drop on us,” the female adept went on.

  She outlined the whole course of events, the doctor punctuating everything with angry grunts.

  “It would have made sense if we’d stuck together once we cast the Spell of Sealing. But Gaspar got it in his head to go wandering off. He said he needed to be alone. I suppose he was embarrassed by how ineffectual he’d become.”