by Scott Speer
The Dark Angel screamed, the glass of the cube shivering under the sound waves.
Emily began whimpering. All her talk of being courageous seemed to be an act. Other Guardians began slowly backing up.
Jackson alone was unmoved at the spectacle of the demon. He had already faced his worst fears on the library tower. Not fighting a demon: losing Maddy. Now he had nothing to fear. He walked towards the demon and looked in its eyes.
“Not now. Get out of here.”
The demon, still hovering, snarled and beat its wings once, twice, and was gone, out across the Angel City basin.
Emily was crying in the corner. Jacks turned back to his fellow Guardians, who had retreated in the face of the demon.
“The scouts are getting more frequent,” he said flatly. “Don’t worry, they won’t be bothering us. They have humans to concern themselves with.”
Guardians began speaking over each other.
“The humans will be massacred.”
“It’s saving us a war.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“They signed their own death warrant with the Immortals Bill. They can’t expect us to help them now.”
“But how do we know the Dark Ones won’t ultimately come for us?”
“We don’t, for sure. The Book seems clear, but we can’t be positive. We’ll be ready regardless.”
“The humans would never be ready.”
Mitch was shaking his head as he heard the fragments of conversation. He stepped up to Jacks and gripped his forearm. He spoke under his breath. “You’ve seen what those things can do, Jacks. What it’s done to Angels. If we’re prepared, we can handle our own. But the humans, Jacks.”
Jacks nodded distantly. Mitch squeezed his arm.
“Are you listening to me?” Mitch asked. “The humans don’t stand a chance.”
A pained expression crossed Jackson’s face. Just for a split second. “Oftentimes difficult decisions must be made.”
“I know you’re hurt. In pain. I can only imagine, man. But she’s not a decision,” Mitch said. “She’s a person, Jacks.”
Mitch let go of Jackson’s arm and began walking across the marble floor towards the elevator. Jackson watched as he went, his pale eyes flickering.
CHAPTER 38
The door to the dark old bar swung open as someone left, letting bright daylight pour into the dusty establishment. Two men in a dim corner yelled in anger as the light invaded. It momentarily illuminated dusty photos of Angels, the worn dark wood of the proud old tables, the empty glasses in front of the two drunks. Once the glamorous meeting place for the Angels in the last century, the bar was now a musty Angel City dive, trading on nostalgia, cheap bottom-shelf liquor, and not too many questions.
Propped on a stool, hunched over the bar, Detective Sylvester peered up at the dusty TV. There was going to be a statement from the president. He brought the glass of whisky rocks to his lips and took a long drink.
The bar was almost empty at this time of the day, everyone at home, riveted by the terrifying footage of the sinkhole in the Pacific. The coming of the prophecy in The Book of Angels. No one could have seen it coming – except for the detective, of course. Everyone was waiting to hear if the Angels would join the fight, despite their conflict with the humans. The boulevards of Angel City were ghostly, empty, the billboards of the perfect Angels leering over empty pavements and bare streets. The Walk of Angels an abandoned corridor, a brutal reminder of how far things had fallen, and were continuing to fall.
The TV squawked, and Sylvester looked up at it again. President Linden walked to the podium. He seemed to have already aged a couple of years in the past week: a few more strands of grey in his presidential hair, his face drawn and tired, his Brooks Brothers suit slightly rumpled. But he still appeared strong for the people.
“My fellow Americans. I speak to you in a dark hour, perhaps the darkest hour we have yet seen. We have had confirmation from numerous theologians and scientists that the sinkhole many of you have seen in the Pacific Ocean is indeed an opened portal for demons, a fulfilling of the prophetic revelations of The Book of Angels. It saddens me to say that mankind will have to face this terrible threat alone. After sending emergency ambassadors to the Archangels of the NAS, to plead with them about the necessity of joining forces and repelling the demon invasion together, I am sad to say that we have made no headway. The Angels refuse our plea for aid in the inevitable battle against the common threat we are now facing. The battle of all time, between good and evil.
“I have said that this may, in fact, be our darkest hour but I also hope it may ultimately prove to be our brightest, as well. Our military heroes across the globe are preparing to meet this challenge head-on and are ready to make the ultimate sacrifice as we make a stand.
“May God bless you all, and God bless America.”
The screen immediately cut back to live footage of the sinkhole.
Sylvester tilted his glass back, draining it of the amber liquid. Sylvester wasn’t one for daytime drinking, but he was damn well going to try to change that on a day like this.
“Excuse me, can I get another one?” Sylvester asked.
The bartender was just standing there, slack-jawed, as the TV turned back to footage of the sinkhole in the ocean. A graphic read: DEMON SINKHOLE GROWS – ANGELS TO STAY ON SIDELINES.
Without even really drawing his gaze from the TV, the bartender dropped two new cubes in the glass and filled it to the brim with liquor.
“That one’s on me,” he said.
Sylvester just nodded and looked back at the screen.
He had failed.
That’s all Sylvester could think of. Despite everything, despite even getting into the inner chambers of the Council to petition Gabriel himself, he had failed. He had been too late. It had been for nothing.
The humans didn’t stand a chance.
And if the Angels thought the Dark Ones would stop with just conquering humanity. . .
The door swung open again, drawing another bout of noisy complaint from the back corner, before it closed. Sylvester didn’t pay it any mind, still looking at the TV.
The person who entered sat on a stool next to him. Sylvester instantly stiffened. It was an Angel. Although many years had passed since he’d had his wings removed, he could still instantly feel the presence, the energy, of one of the Immortals.
“Get you something?” the bartender asked, before suddenly being drawn up short by the perfect Immortal in front of him. How long had it been since an Angel had graced the bar?
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” a woman’s voice said. “We’ll be leaving shortly.”
“An Angel doesn’t need a drink for the apocalypse?” Sylvester said, his voice dripping with bitterness. He lifted up his glass and took a sip, still only looking at the TV.
“Your partner said I could find you here,” the voice next to him said.
The detective shook his head. “Bill,” he said.
“You shouldn’t be here at a time like this,” the voice said.
Sylvester finally turned his head. He was met by the face of Archangel Susan Archson.
“Susan?” His brow furrowed in puzzlement.
“How long has it been? Fifteen years? Too long,” she said.
The detective’s face darkened. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the rest of the Angels, getting some popcorn and a front row seat?” He motioned to the sinkhole on TV.
“I’m here to get you, David,” she said. Maddy’s former instructor almost glowed in the dark bar, her red lipstick set against her skin. “We have work to do. It’s not too late.”
“What do you mean?”
Susan studied the detective’s face for a moment. Her eyes suddenly sparkled. “The girl.”
Adrenaline pumped in Sylv
ester’s veins. “Maddy?”
Susan nodded.
“You think she has a part to play?”
“I’m positive,” Susan said.
“And what about him?”
“We can’t say,” Maddy’s professor said. She looked towards the door. “They don’t know I’m here. A car is waiting outside. Louis is there.”
“Kreuz?”
“Yes. There are . . . some who do not agree with the Council, David.”
A look of comprehension suddenly came across Sylvester’s face. “It wasn’t DeWitt or Minx who sent me the anonymous emails about the demon attacks . . . it was you.”
Susan’s silence was all the confirmation he needed.
“We need to go. Now,” Susan said.
Sylvester pushed the almost untouched drink away from him on the bar. Susan put a hundred-dollar bill on the bar, but the detective put his hand over hers and forced her to pick it back up.
“I can buy my own drinks,” he said, slapping a twenty down and moving to leave.
In astonishment at the Angel who had just come in, the bartender spoke: “What should I do?”
Both Sylvester and Susan stopped at the threshold, the door half-open. The detective was silhouetted by the plentiful sunshine outside, hands buried in the pockets of his overcoat.
“I would recommend praying,” Sylvester said.
CHAPTER 39
Maddy’s car squeaked to a stop in the car park along the pier. She had made it quickly – the freeways were nearly empty. Residents were advised to stay inside until further notice. Fires had already started burning in the hills. Outside Maddy’s windshield, the aircraft carrier loomed heavy on the grim grey-red horizon, a juggernaut preparing for war. Yet at the moment it floated calmly on the glassy aquamarine water of the bay.
The palm trees drifted lazily along the shore, against a sky darkening from the west. They didn’t seem to pay heed to the fact that those just below were in the moment of saying goodbye to each other, perhaps for ever.
Stepping out of her car, Maddy put on her sunglasses and started walking quickly to the mass of sailors, pilots and families congregating along the dock. The unmistakable salty presence of the ocean invaded her nostrils as she made her way towards the pier, through the crowd of families trying to say goodbye. Stunned, teary-eyed farewells were happening all around her, as sailors were being ripped from their families and sent on what many experts were already calling a suicide mission against the demon horde arising in the Pacific. The coming of the prophecy. Heading directly towards Angel City.
Maddy’s head craned around the groups of people, trying to find Tom in the mass of people. With a panic, she realized some sailors were already starting to climb the long metal staircase to the deck of the aircraft carrier. They waved regretfully down at their loved ones as they reached the flight deck and stood along the rails. A small girl holding a teddy bear wept as she saw her father disappear on to the vessel of war.
Was Maddy too late? She moved faster and faster through the people, looking for Tom.
“Tom!” she cried out, scanning the crowd. What if he’d already had to board? She wouldn’t have a chance to see him. “Tom!”
Suddenly she was in his arms, their bodies against each other, arms wrapping, faces touching. “Maddy,” he said, embracing her.
She looked up at him, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I just . . . I thought maybe you’d already left.”
Tom gazed down upon Maddy, a smile in his eyes. “I’m here. I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye to you.”
Maddy pressed the side of her face against the side of Tom’s smooth uniform. What was happening? Where was her heart taking her?
“Why do you have to go?” she asked. She knew the question was foolish, something a little girl would ask. But she asked it anyway.
“We have to, Maddy,” Tom said. “Is it better to just sit here and wait for the demons to come slaughter us in our homes? We have to at least try. We’ve sworn a duty to protect this country. And we will do it. Even if we die trying.”
Maddy knew he was right.
“The Angels are refusing to help,” she said. “Archangel Holyoake just released the official statement.”
“Are you surprised?” Tom said, his expression darkening, cheeks tensing. “They were about to go to war with us over the Immortals Bill. We already knew they’d give us no aid.”
Maddy looked at him. “No,” she said. “Actually, I . . . I don’t know.” A pang crossed her heart as she thought of Jacks, alone and bitter in his jealousy, having offered to lead the Angels against them. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?
With a panic, Maddy realized that the sailors and aviators on the dock were starting to thin out, embarking on the ship, leaving only the civilians on the dock.
A junior officer approached Tom and saluted. “Captain, we need you to board, sir.”
“Thank you, ensign,” he said. “I’ll only be a moment longer.”
Tom turned back to Maddy.
“Maddy, when you came out in public as a half-blood, and then I met you, I felt something. I felt I didn’t have to be alone any more. I didn’t have anything to prove. I could be what I was. Not feel different. Maybe even be proud.”
“No goodbyes, Tom,” Maddy sputtered out, trying to hold back tears.
“You gave me courage, everything you’ve done in so short a time. You may not see it, your incredible courage, but I do. And so does the rest of the world. You gave courage to us all with your training, your save of the girl. Maddy, you are what I would want to be.”
Emotion flooded Maddy, threatening to overtake her as she held the pilot’s hands in hers. The impending war; her love for Jacks, who was now her enemy; what she now recognized as a conflicting love for Tom – it all threatened to break through the defences around her heart and leave her surrendered, overwhelmed. She bit her lip hard as she looked up at Tom, tears rimming her eyes.
“All my achievements, my flight status – none of it matters when I think about the past couple of months with you,” Tom said. He took a breath. “I love you, Maddy.”
“Tom, we’ll have time to talk about all this when you get back.”
His voice began to waver, only slightly. “Maddy, if I don’t come back again, I want you to— ”
“You’re going to be back again,” she cut him off, the renegade tears starting to come. “You’d better.”
The brilliant sun glinted off the insignia of Tom’s crisp, navy blue uniform. A pair of gulls wheeled above in the flawless blue sky, lighter than air. Navy personnel crowded the rails of the towering aircraft carrier, looking down on the dock at those they were leaving behind.
“My grandfather always told me not to get caught up and instead to search for the one girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with,” Tom said, his voice quavering. He moved in closer and looked at her with his deep green eyes. “I’m sure now that it’s you.”
The world seemed to pitch under Maddy’s feet, as if she were at sea.
“Tom. . .”
“Maddy Montgomery Godright, I want to know if you’ll be here for me if – I mean, when – I get back.”
Her face turned down, tears streaming. “Tom, don’t talk like that. Of course I’ll be here.”
Suddenly a shadow crossed over her and Tom, as if a giant bird had flown across the sun. In surprise, Maddy looked up.
An Angel with enormous wings outstretched floated to the ground in front of them, silhouetted black against the sun. Golden rays bled around the edges of the figure as it touched down.
With a shock, Maddy realized it was Jacks. But not a Jacks she fully knew. Futuristic black Angel armour clung to his muscular body, a new generation of Battle Angel protection she’d never seen before. His half-Angel, half-cyborg wings were awe-inspiring in their breadth. Ja
ckson also looked somehow older. His jaw stronger. The lines along his cheekbones more defined and immutable.
Tom’s muscles grew taut as he realized who it was, and Maddy unconsciously withdrew from the pilot, taking a few steps away.
“What are you doing here?” Tom asked sharply, standing up straight, his shoulders broad. Jackson’s impressive new wings didn’t daunt him. “This is no place for you. You and your Angels have made your choice. You’ve abandoned Maddy.”
“Jacks . . . your wings,” Maddy said softly. “But why did you come? How did you find me?” Pain twisted her face. She thought she had already faced the agony of this choice.
“I had to come. To give you a chance,” Jacks said. “And I know your frequency better than any, Maddy. You should know that by now.”
Maddy searched his pale blue eyes. They seemed deeper, flecked with more grey than she had ever seen. They seemed almost haunted.
On the deck of the ship, some sailors noticed the Angel down on the pier. They began shouting and drawing their sidearms, pointing them at Jacks.
“You! Angel! Down on the ground! NOW!”
Jackson paid them not the slightest attention.
He motioned towards the ocean horizon, where the demon sinkhole was just kilometres off shore.
“Maddy, I’m offering you a choice,” Jacks said. “To survive. To choose your Angel side once and for all. It’s your destiny. Don’t tell me you can’t feel that, honestly, in your bones.”
The words were blunt against her ears. Maddy could feel her Immortal Marks warming under her shirt. Stirrings of her beautiful wings, which she’d come to think of as an indispensable part of her.
Jacks continued. “The humans may be right about some things. But they are also confused, and weak, about many others. The Immortals Bill is wrong, and you know it. We can work together to change things for the Angels.”
