The Storm

by Alexander Gordon Smith

  She stopped, spinning him round in the air, her eyes blazing.

  You’re not him, she said. You’re not Schiller.

  He tried to squirm loose, wondering if his angel needed its wings to transport, whether he could just burn himself back to the ground the way he’d done before. Rilke’s invisible fingers were like iron rods in his ribs, anchoring him to her.

  Don’t you dare! Her shriek pummelled his brain, her grip on him growing stronger. He slapped at it with his hands but there was nothing there to fight. His fire burned, but nowhere near as bright as Rilke’s. It is you, I knew it, you lied to me, you broke him, you broke us both.

  Brick lashed out, an arrow of translucent flame slicing into the girl. Her psychic hold on him loosened and he peeled open the world, ready to flee into the absence there.

  The man in the storm bellowed. Something was happening, black lightning bursting from the walls, churning up the smoke. Then the world disintegrated around Brick, his scream guttering out as he was blasted into atoms and sucked into the void.

  Daisy

  San Francisco, 3.44 p.m.

  ‘We can’t let him get away!’ Cal’s yell boomed across the deserted land, vibrating over Daisy as the agitated air rushed into the space where the man in the storm had just been. The sky was full of flakes of smouldering ash. Past them, though, the sun was starting to break through the thinning clouds. Its light spread almost nervously across the blackened earth, as if it was studying the damage that had been caused, feeling for survivors. There were none. How could there be? From up here in the sky Daisy could see for miles in every direction, every scrap of life scrubbed away by the beast.

  The pit was still growing, straining against the flood of seawater that cascaded into it. Huge sections of land crumbled into the growing void. She wondered if the man in the storm had moved back underground, but she couldn’t sense him there. No, it was more like he’d carved away so much of the world that it couldn’t hold itself up any more.

  She could sense him, though, a long way away from here. He had left a trail in the air, one that vanished in mid-air, a bit like a mouse’s tail beneath a rug. If she lifted up the world there she’d be able to see where he’d gone.

  Cal flew to her side. Howie and Marcus were there too, scanning the horizon. She looked down, panicking when she couldn’t see Adam. The blast of relief when he hovered up behind her almost made her cry. She wrapped her arms around him for a second, the air between them sparking in protest, then let him go.

  I’m okay, she said. I’m fine. We scared him, Cal, we must have done to make him run away like that.

  Guy’s a chicken, said Howie.

  Come on, said Cal, before he has a chance to recover.

  He didn’t wait for her this time, his body exploding into incandescent dust. Daisy followed, using her mind to lift up the carpet, chasing the mouse’s tail into the emptiness there. It was as though she’d been able to do this all her life, as natural as walking. A heartbeat later the world shaped itself around them with a protest of cracks and rumbles. The embers tore free from the dispossessed air – that’s what they were, she realised, the parts of the world that were burned away to make room for the angels. Through them she saw the beast. He was hanging over another city, this one like something out of a fairy tale, full of old buildings and towers. A huge, dirty-looking river wound through it. There were people there, thousands of them, all staring and screaming at the storm, and the thing that lived in it.

  Cal was a speck of flame against the brooding night, his angel’s voice punching into it, echoing across the city below.

  Daisy hurled herself after him, feeling the others by her side. Even Adam was there this time – she understood that he didn’t want to be by himself. The turbine of the beast’s mouth was starting up again, the buildings below starting to disintegrate, rising in pieces. The river was like an upturned rainstorm, draining against gravity. The people, too, were being sucked up, just like those ants in the Hoover. Daisy reached out for them with her mind, trying to hold them down, but there were too many, too fragile, and they came to pieces under her touch. I’m sorry, she said, the horror of it swelling inside her tummy, her chest.

  Focus, Daisy, said Cal. Switch your emotions off.

  She tried, swallowing them down. Opening her mouth, she unleashed a cry that tore through the clouds, slicing into the man’s face. Cal was attacking the eyes again, Marcus and Howie unleashing shot after shot at the tattered remains of the monster’s body. The wind was a fist, grabbing them and shaking them as it swept into the cavernous mouth. It took everything she had not to be carried away by it.

  The beast was fighting back, vomiting more of that horrible black lightning. The air was alive with it, none of the bolts coming close. Most were hitting the ground, blowing up like bombs, reducing the city to rubble. That endless breath was a howling cry, full of rage, so loud that it made every bone in her body tremble.

  We’re winning, she said, clamping down on the rush of excitement and relief, forcing herself to stay calm. Keep firing!

  They didn’t need her to tell them. Cal had pretty much demolished the beast’s face, chunks of dark matter pulling loose from its eyes, sucked into its mouth. It seemed to be rebuilding itself, though, smoke filling the gaps and solidifying there. Daisy burned through the sky, letting her angel speak. The word was like a giant bullet cracking open the storm’s skull, the force of it knocking her back. She flipped in mid-air, feeling another attack bubble up her throat and out of her mouth. There were so many explosions detonating against the storm that the man was more fire than smoke. There was no way he could survive much more of this, no way.

  And yet his fury was growing, boiling from him in huge, black waves, healing the wounds they made. She loosed another cry and this one was met by a whipcrack of utter darkness, the two forces crackling as they cancelled each other out. It was using the lightning to block Cal’s cries too, like a force field.

  Daisy dived, avoiding a finger of inverse light that snapped out to meet her. The ground rushed up, close enough for her to see the ruined city, the stains that had once been people. She turned at the last minute, the earth beneath her exploding as the man in the storm lashed out again. She pumped her wings, hurtling up through the roiling smoke, pausing when she saw a burst of fire inside the beast’s mouth. The man in the storm howled again, that awful, inward, sucking cry. Something was happening in there.

  Brick, she realised, sensing him, and as soon as she called his name she heard his reply, a brittle scream for help. More fire from inside, as though the man in the storm had swallowed a swarm of fireflies.

  Help me! Brick yelled, his voice like distant thunder inside her head.

  You hear that? Cal said, appearing beside her. He looked exhausted but his angel burned fiercely. That’s Brick.

  Daisy lurched away from him as another sliver of lightning slashed the air between them. Cal opened his mouth and fired a word at it, the sound disappearing into the clouds around the beast, not even leaving a scar.

  It’s not working, he said. It’s too strong.

  He was right, they were hurting it but not killing it, like wasps stinging the hide of an elephant. But they were doing everything they could, weren’t they? Switching off their emotions, giving the angels everything they needed. What was she missing? What were they doing wrong?

  Over the howl of the storm she heard Brick shout again.

  What’s he doing in there? Cal asked.

  Daisy didn’t know, only that he wasn’t alone. Cal shook his head and she heard him call out, I’m coming, Brick, hang on!

  Wait, Cal!

  She chased after him. Before she could reach him, though, the world grew dark.

  Before she could reach it, though, the world grew dark. A fist of smoke swung out from the storm, so big that it blotted out the last of the sunlight. Daisy screamed, burning herself out of the world before the smoke could hit her. She fizzled back into existence on the other side o
f the storm, the sudden shift of perspective making her dizzy. That immense bulk of darkness was dropping towards the ruined city, as though somebody was pouring a billion gallons of oil from the sky. Cal swept out of the way with Adam, Howie bursting into embers as he fled.

  Marcus wasn’t so lucky. He looked up too late, loosed a cry that vanished in the smoke. Then it hit him, punching him into the ground, the fist bigger than the city that had once stood there. It didn’t stop, funnelling into the earth, pushing the boy deeper and deeper with a series of booming cracks. Daisy called out his name, but there was only a gaping absence where the boy’s thoughts had once been.

  No! She lifted herself up, the anger like a living thing inside her. She opened her mouth and this time the cry that broke free was powerful enough to blister the air, carving a path of fire right into the heart of the storm. There was a second where she thought her attack had died away, then an explosion detonated inside the beast, as if an atomic bomb had gone off. Huge clouds of gunk jettisoned from the sky, trails of poisonous smoke trailing earthwards.

  She reached out with her mind, slicing into the wound she had made, grabbing anything she could find in there and ripping it out. Her angel’s invisible hands wrenched and mauled, the beast above her bellowing like a million wounded bulls. The rage boiled inside her and this time she didn’t hold it back, letting it fuel her.

  Oh God, she thought. She’d been wrong, so wrong. They weren’t supposed to hide their emotions, they were supposed to use them.

  She unlocked the door she’d closed against them, a hundred different feelings sluicing up inside her. It was like a volcano, the fire raging, spewing out of her. She cried out again and the whole sky seemed to shake. The hole it punched in the storm was huge and perfectly round, daylight pouring through it. The beast groaned, flexing its wings, a forest of lightning sprouting from its tattered flesh. It was going to vanish again.

  It swept its wings down, blasting out a wave of dust. But it didn’t disappear. Instead it lifted itself up, rising slowly, gaining speed with each clumsy stroke.

  Where is it going? she asked, sensing Cal swoop up beside her. A rain of dust and ash was falling, like black snow.

  It’s running, Cal said, smiling. Let’s get this bastard.

  Cal

  The Thermosphere, 3.58 p.m.

  It rose like a rocket, trailing a plume of impossibly dark smoke. The air trembled in its wake. Cal darted to one side as part of the city fell past him, disintegrating as it went. There were buildings there, office blocks that crumbled as they rose, screaming faces visible inside. Cal tucked his arms in, burning up through the sky, seeing the world shrink. The horizon was bent into a curve, the sky growing dark, stars appearing even in the middle of the day.

  Howie flew up beside him. Daisy was there too, on the offensive again, her shouts impossibly loud and bright as they slammed into the body of the beast.

  Marcus was gone, smashed into the earth so hard that even his angel couldn’t save him. Cal had felt the moment that the boy died, a split second of agony, then nothing.

  Don’t think it, he told himself. Don’t let the emotions take over.

  Cal lashed out with his mind, bolts of energy searing their way up his throat, vanishing into the darkness. The storm was still rising, perfectly camouflaged against the emptiness of space. Only the flashes of fire inside his throat gave him away, looking like underwater explosions. Brick, Cal thought, knowing that the boy was trapped in there with Rilke. They both needed help.

  A tongue of black lightning cracked through the air beside Cal, detonating with enough force to set off a tuning-fork ring in his ear. He rolled, shouting out at the same time, his cry ripping through the storm. It wasn’t doing any good, like firing slingshot pellets at a tank. They couldn’t get past its armour.

  He had to get closer.

  Howie, he called out, seeing the other boy below him, suspended over the blue curve of the earth. He hadn’t realised how high they had come, and suddenly panicked that he wouldn’t be able to draw breath up here before remembering that he didn’t need to. His guts churned in a sudden rush of vertigo and he had to look up to steady himself. He sensed Howie approach.

  Yeah? the other boy said.

  Can you distract it? I need to get up there. Cal pointed towards its mouth, so dark it looked like a hole in space.

  I’ll see what I can do, he replied, breaking away, leaving a trail of light behind him as he arced upwards. The beast reached out for him but he was too quick, darting left and right to avoid the lightning. Something else was happening inside the storm, the turbine of its mouth turning once again. It made no noise in the vacuum of space, but Cal could feel its power as it started to reel him in. He didn’t fight it, this time, just tucked in his wings and let himself rise. Below, something strange was happening to the clouds, running across the surface of the planet like soapy water in the bath. A tunnel of vapour snaked up, jolting Cal as it funnelled past. What the— was as far as he got before he understood that it was devouring the atmosphere, the air, the oxygen.

  Stay calm, don’t think about it.

  He put his head down, rising faster, slowing only when he heard Daisy’s voice inside his head.

  Cal! he looked to see her there, her wings outstretched. It was as though she was made of burning magnesium, a flare so bright that even with his angel’s eyes he had to look away.

  You okay? he asked.

  I was wrong, she said. She stopped next to him and he risked looking again, feeling as if he was hovering next to the sun. Cal, we have to let go. The angels want us to use our emotions, it’s the only way to make them strong enough.

  What? How do you know?

  I just do, she said. It’s okay to be scared.

  No, she was wrong. Fear would only make him weak. He’d learned that over and over again in his martial arts classes – stay focused, never get angry, never get scared, or you were guaranteed to lose. Centre yourself, let everything wash over you, focus, then strike.

  Wait here, he said. Look after Adam.

  He ignored her protests, blasting up until the spinning chasm of the man’s mouth was overhead. From here it looked big enough to swallow the world whole. Those same flashes of fire erupted inside the smoky flesh of its throat, and flickers of sound kept breaking through the deafening weight of silence, mind-voices that might have belonged to Brick and Rilke. Cal was balanced on the lip of a whirlpool, and clenched his teeth against the terror of it.

  He folded everything in, feeling himself sucked upwards so violently that he thought he’d left his stomach behind. He tumbled in the churning murk, smelling air and ocean in the vapour around him. The world beneath him shrank away, so small, so vulnerable in its bed of boundless night. Then it too vanished as the storm swallowed him.

  As soon as he was inside it he thrust out his wings, turbulence making his head spin. It was like being inside a cave, only one made of roiling smoke. Chunks of earth and city spiralled around him in a silent dance, disintegrating as they collided. Everything here was moving towards a distant point, a speck of absolute darkness. She was right, he thought. It is a black hole. Between him and it, caught up in the flow of churning matter, was a flickering orb of fire that had to be Brick or Rilke. Or both of them, he realised, seeing the two forms inside that thrashed and fought.

  Brick! he called out, sailing towards them. The wind blistered past his ears, trying to grab hold of him, and it was all he could do to resist. Brick! Rilke!

  Help me! Brick screamed. Jagged bolts of electricity were sparking from them, pumping out a cold, prickling energy that Cal could feel against his skin. He let himself slide closer and lost his grip, suddenly lurching towards the throat. The pull was just too strong. He couldn’t hold himself here, if he got any nearer to them he risked being ripped away.

  Brick would have to wait. Cal cried out. Here, beneath the armour of storm, his attack was like a rocket-propelled grenade, sinking deep into the wall before erupting. He opened h
is mouth again, letting his angel speak, an onslaught of power that cut a path towards the event horizon ahead.

  Cal felt the storm shake, a sinking battleship, but the endless inward breath was as strong as ever. He felt himself caught up in it, his angel burning at full strength but still unable to resist the pull. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

  You are, Cal, he heard Daisy say, a whisper in the middle of his brain. But you have to use them, you have to be you.

  Use what? His emotions? He’d seen what that had done to Brick, to Rilke. It had driven them both mad. Even now he could see it, in the way they scratched and bit and wrestled in the ether. Clear your mind, focus, strike.

  Trust me, Cal. And he did. More than anything.

  He took a deep breath, then set it free – all the fear, all the misery, all the confusion, and all the fury, his fury. It ignited in his stomach, in his heart, in his head, a pure, white fire that blazed out from his mouth. The air roared, a shaft of light punching out through the storm, cutting through the skin of cloud, through the tattered flesh. Cal screamed until he thought he would turn himself inside out. The emotion still boiled there, an infinite supply of it, a lifetime of it, giving him strength, giving his angel power. He opened his mouth and cried out again, the world around him igniting.

  Rilke

  The Thermosphere, 4.03 p.m.

  Rilke had to close her eyes against the sudden brightness of the explosions, but there was no sound, no thunder, just the pathetic cries of the burning boy.

  Please, please, just let me go.

  Not that he was really burning any more, just the thinnest shimmer covering his skin, and even that was flickering on and off like a candle in the wind. She held him before her, using the hands that weren’t really hands. The world was nothing but smoke and shadow – no ground, no sky, just a tunnel of roiling darkness pockmarked by detonations. It was trying to pull them in, but her wings held them both in place. She was so tired, and so confused, that she couldn’t remember if it had ever been different. Almost everything inside her was used up now, but that was okay. She only had one more job to do, then she could go home and be with her brother again.