A Congress of Angels (The Collective)

by Fore, Jon

  Gabriel went to her and lifted her onto the big horses back.

  They looked both ways, studying the roadway before making their way across. Gabriel was pretty sure there wouldn’t be any more roads this side of the New York-Pennsylvania state lines, and he was right.

  They traveled for three more hours, two hours longer than they needed to cross the state borders. After about an hour into the thicker woods, wildlife began to make an appearance. It started with rodents like squirrels and small land critters too fast in the failing light to be seen. Then they came across a thick harem of deer fleeting through the trees as they approached.

  Gabriel knew this was all a really good sign. This meant they could have a fire tonight, something the skinny kid needed sorely. She had taken to sleeping on Gabriel, leeching his body heat, but he liked it. It was an intoxicating fatherly thing, and it did help with the cold. But it also meant occasional mouthfuls of dirty hair, heels or knees in his balls, and even a decent head-butt delivered into the cleft of his chin during a particularly animated dream. He bit his tongue, but somehow, held the curse in his chest. Amelia didn't even wake.

  A fire, now that would provide heat, a huge amount of comfort, and a psychological boost to boot. It also meant Amelia didn't have to sleep all over him, and they both could get some shut eye. That and he always enjoyed staring into a fire, watching the flames rise and dance, drawing the stored energy from the wood. It never failed to make him sleepy, and the scent of wood smoke was itself a comfort to him. It meant camping with his dad, which was what they did for their vacations as he grew up.

  His father hadn't forced him into a hermit's life, but their money was always a bit thin, even when he was winning in the quick draw or sharp shooting competitions. Money had always been a problem. Enough, sure, always just enough, and not a penny more. So there was camping. Camping, and later hunting. That was the summer past-times. Always just he and his father, always deep in the woods where other campers didn't dare to go. Those were his fondest memories, his father's sculpting of a man, and they all came back with a simple camp fire.

  The last hour before the weak light failed entirely, the wildlife seemed to become a bit crowded. Gabriel reasoned they were fleeing the woods closer to the invasion, and he could tell by the amount of wildlife that the invasion was all around them. But tonight, just for tonight, it wasn't too close.

  They picked a clearing, near a small brook of clear, cold water. Gabriel wasted no time in gathering wood and building a fire, both for light and warmth. As the muted light failed, so too did the warmth of the hidden sun, as much of it as there was. Each day brought with it a colder and colder night.

  With the fire going, lending a glow to the clearing, Gabriel went to gather limbs, as thin and long as he could find to build a light-trap. Nothing more than a simple roof over the fire, high enough to not catch fire itself, but dense enough to break up the fire's light from above. He didn't want one of those flying demons to see the campsite and come in for a closer look. They were not much bigger than the dog-things, but a hundred underneath a 'balloon monster' would be too much to handle. His best would only be twelve, more like eight, nowhere near fifty or a hundred or whatever hung under those grotesque, bloated things.

  Amelia busied herself by taking the push broom head from one of the packs and brushing down Lance. She had seen Gabriel do this the night before, but this was the first time she took responsibility herself. She seemed to be humming to the horse as she brushed long strokes into his thin fur. Lance seemed to be enjoying it, chasing her with his snout and trying to nuzzle her. She didn't giggle or laugh like a normal child, but the timbre of her voice expressed a certain level of joy, as happy as a girl could be with the recent loss of everything.

  They made their meal of canned hash and the rest of the canned green beans. This night it was a decadent meal simply because of the warmth. When they were done, there was no conversation. Amelia curled up in the ridiculously large sweater of hers, and went to sleep on the edge of the fire while Gabriel buried the refuse of the meal. There were no edible scraps, just the empty cans, but he didn't want to leave any trail if he could. Then he took the two small bowls to the brook and washed them out as best he could before packing them again.

  Then he leaned his back against a close tree and stared into the flames of the small fire. Sleep already mocked him from the deeper recesses of his mind, and he knew he could chase it, but wouldn't catch it. Not tonight. Tonight would be for reflecting and thinking; planning the remainder of his pilgrimage back to humanity. God was I stupid for staying like I did. Could've, should've, would've, right?

  He closed his eyes and just listened to the forest, to the fire randomly snapping and popping. It released an occasional hiss as the last bits of moisture escaped the wood. It felt almost normal hearing the random wildlife making its journey around them and avoiding the campfire. As long as he didn't open his eyes, ignored the stench of decay just now beginning to overpower the normal scents of the forest, and listed to the remaining life and gurgle of the brook, he almost felt at home.

  Then he saw her.

  Visions were not a new thing--nowhere near a new thing for Gabriel. Only, everyone before now he could account for. The guy he did from four hundred yards, his body popping and falling, still holding the mortar shell he was planting as an I.E.D. The little dead girl he desecrated with his revolver. The frozen spasm of each combatant he had put to the ground in a pink mist were scorched into the retina of his mind's eye. But this vision was not only in motion, but a person he had never seen.

  She was slender, not tall and not short, skin as pale as moonlight and her hair a blaze of flame flowing over and behind her. The girl clasped the wheel of some boat or something and stared forlorn into an impenetrable darkness, a darkness not so dark as the one Gabriel sat in right now. Her face was solidly stoic, her eyes confident and bold, and from head to toe, the most beautiful woman Gabriel had ever seen, then she was gone.

  He felt the bite of loss, even though he wondered if this was another sign he was crumbling mentally or not. He hoped not. There was Amelia. Unless Amelia wasn't real, but then he'd been drowning in the deep end already and none of this mattered. But he knew there was importance in that vision, only he missed whatever that was. Trained to pay attention to every detail he could see, and it escaped him like a shadow in the night.

  Then he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

  These were not the four footed kind, but something walking bipedal. Not only that, it was dangerously close and coming toward him, just on the other side of Amelia. Gabriel yanked both revolvers, disturbing Fug, and drew down on the empty black space between two trees. His heart began a rapid tempo in his chest, pounding as if made of something hard, and his lungs rejected the need to fill with air. You got caught with your pants down again, didn't you Gaby ole' boy?

  Stupid Marine.

  Gabriel remained frozen like that, not moving, barely able to see the trees as the fire burned itself low. His ears strained to hear over his own near-panting, and the light rumbling snore from Amelia. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, only a few feet from the remaining glow of the fire, and fell entirely silent.

  Gabriel felt exposed, naked on a battle field, spotlighted like a roach in the kitchen. He knew he was being watched, the eyes of whatever it was raking over him, feeling him, learning him. Still, he didn't move. There was a chance it was a deer, a deer who walked funny, and It could just be looking into the mysterious glow of the fire, mesmerized as they often become in the headlights of rushing cars. It could be a raccoon, waiting for Gabriel to fall asleep and leave his food store unattended. But then, why wasn't Fug out there chasing it off?

  The dog just stayed where he was, laying along Gabriel's leg saying nothing, but shaking deep in his core. Not like when there was thunder, more like it was just too cold for the dog.

  The wind shifted slightly, and Gabriel caught his first smell of rancid potatoes.

  His h
eart dropped like a stone and landed on his bladder, almost forcing it empty. He looked down at the sleeping girl, directly between Gabriel and whatever monster was just over there, just beyond the light. He considered shooting, but if he missed, there would be a terrified little girl popping up between him and the monster. He had to see it. Couldn't shoot it without knowing. Hell, maybe a person, a human with a taste for old garlic potatoes had come upon their campfire and was just too...

  "We comes. We talk with these humans."

  Gabriel could never decide if the voice was more hiss or growl, only that it sent waves of hair to stand up on his arms and neck, even his scalp. His grip tightened dangerously on the handles of the revolvers, promising to foul any shot he might take, and his bladder threatened to make a puddling joke of him, again. He swallowed a dry wad of fear in his throat.

  "We wants only talks. We no hurts humans."

  The voice pierced the blackness, filled the space between the trees, and grated his ears. These motherfuckers weren't supposed to be able to talk. Forcing his hands to relax on the guns and find the natural place in his palms, he cleared his throat. "Who are you?"

  The thing answered instantly. "We are those who comes, but do not wants to hurts. We comes because we are made to comes. We want peace with these humans."

  'It's a trap,' Gabriel thought.

  'You're already in the trap, dumb-ass.’ The drill sergeant in his head informed him.

  'Remember the girl puppet?'

  'You fell for that one too.'

  'What do I do?'

  'You be a Marine.’ The sergeant replied with gravel intensity.

  "Who are you?” Gabriel asked aloud.

  "I says, ones that not hurts humans.” The demon thing said.

  The voice, the very contradiction of whistle and growl was nearly painful to hear. But like the drill instructor like voice said, he was already in the trap, and there was no way to fix that unless he could see what it was he faced. He had to see the pieces on the board before he could make his next move. "Come, then.” He said, no louder than a conversational tone.

  It stepped into the light without further talk. This demon was different. This one was humanoid, if it could be described as such. It had the torso, arms, legs, even the face of a human being, but with a ruddy grey color. His features were thick. He had a wide nose, a large, thick brow, and nearly Neanderthal like. Its arms and legs were thicker, more than proportionate with its over-all larger size. It wore a loin cloth of some furry skin, but its color was nondescript and Gabriel couldn't begin to guess what animal gave its life for this thing. It carried a bladed cudgel. Not a mace, not a sword, but something made with grey metal and little intellectual design. But what horrified Gabriel, what slapped his frontal lobes were the metallic wings on the things back.

  Wounds were closed around the wings telling Gabriel they were not something from birth, but the wounds seemed freshly closed, if closed entirely. The wings appeared dense and heavy and hard to carry, impossible to fly with, that was clear. They seemed to serve no more purpose than to torment this caveman thing who had come to parley and beg peace of the humans.

  It took a step towards Gabriel, but at this point, Gabriel had what he wanted. He could see the thing as well as it could see him. Level playing field. But he didn't want the thing close enough to swing that twisted, bladed, metal thing it carried or get between him and Amelia, "Stop. No closer." Gabriel rolled forward onto one knee.

  The thing stopped, "We not hurts humans.” It promised, but its voice just refused to be trusted.

  "You have killed too many humans for me to take that at face value. How many are with you?"

  "We comes alone. We have hiddens from the hive. We comes to talks, talks only."

  "We come alone? How many is we?"

  "Ones.” It hissed-rumbled.

  "Then talk.” Gabriel growled at the thing. His palms itched, his index fingers pleaded to draw back the triggers, to release the hammers and end this thing's life, if life it had. He could imagine its chest exploding, and he began to clench his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

  "We not all comes to harms the humans. We wants to have our rightful place, taken from us by force....” It voice drew out in what Gabriel decided was its version of anguish, or pretend anguish.

  Whatever. His arms were getting tired, and this conversation hadn't ended with gunfire. Yet. "We did not take anything from... you."

  "No, not you, the others. They says wes not right, wes not becomings what they desires. They come to kill us, but our Lord, he's too smarts for them. He makes a deal that saves many races, and makes it so we cans return."

  Gabriel leaned against the tree again, and arched both his knees, resting his arms there to save his strength. He stared at the man beast with metal wings over top of both barrels. He noticed that Amelia was no longer snoring softly, and was staring at him with horrified eyes. Her back was to the demon thing, and she was obviously paralyzed with fear. Gabriel hoped she wouldn't jump up if he began to fire. Staring at her, he said, "Why did you return then? Why did you return to kill so many humans?"

  "We returns to the paradise, but some have comes to hates the favored child. We kills for the hates, we kills for the fun, we kills to take what is ours by right." The thing passed the wicked club from one hand to the other.

  "But you have no right.” Gabriel said, praying the demon made a lunge for him, hoping it didn't.

  "We were borns of this realm. It is our birthing place. We only wants what was ours."

  "And why do you come to me?” Gabriel asked, finding the creatures face under its shaggy black hair.

  "To say we wants peace. There is places for us all."

  This demon really was trying to barter peace with him. He was no leader, no official, and Gabriel imagined this demon was none of those things either. What was it trying to achieve by this? Could these invaders hope for such a thing as peace? He felt the triggers of both weapons drifted minutely, and it felt damn good. "There is no place for your kind here."

  "It's to lates, human. We are already comes."

  "For now," he nearly shouted. "We will resist you. That I promise."

  "So I takes back to the Hive that there's no hopes for the peace? Humans will not talk of peace?" It lifted the club over its head with both hands, stretching and flexing as if in an attempt to impress Gabriel.

  Gabriel was not that easily impressed. "Take whatever you want back. I will not talk peace."

  "Then more of you humans will die.” It said and turned away.

  "More of you as well.” Gabriel said, and let go two forty five caliber slugs.

  Amelia screamed, but had the sense to keep her head down.

  The round struck the beast at once. One defected from the edge of the things wing, clipping the shot as the thing turned to go. The other struck the monster in the upper chest, to the right and a bit high. It was still solid enough a hit to stumble the demon back a step, a look of surprise coming to its caveman's face.

  "And I was enjoying the fire.” Gabriel said in a voice like setting cement. Then he fired two more rounds, both hitting the beast in the upper torso, this time closer to the center. The beast exhaled violently, stepped back once, then went down on its demon ass.

  When it looked back up at Gabriel, its face was twisted with thick shaggy rage. It opened its mouth to say something, and all that came was a gout of blue blood. Then it growled low, "Run, humans. Now, we comes." Then its body went limp. It was still sitting up, propped up by the large metal wings.

  Gabriel stood and froze, listening hard. All that came to him was Amelia softly weeping through her fear.

  He went to her and knelt, "We have to get up and go on in the dark."

  She looked up at him and blinked a few times before nodding.

  "You're a brave girl, Amelia."

  "I know," she said softly as she helped gather their things.

  In less than five minutes, they were mounted and ready to go. Gabriel decided to
go ahead and leave the fire burning as it was. The flames were low and sputtering already, but the smell would draw any of the demon's friends that might actually be coming.

  Looking towards the sky to check the stars for his bearings, he found those roiling black clouds, and even these were barely visible. He removed the compass from his jacket pocket, sealed it around the head of the flashlight, and turned it on for a brief moment, then turned it off. In his palm was the compass needle and letters, small dots marking the radius, all barely glowing, barely visible as iridescent green. He picked his direction, turned Lance to it, and eased him into a walk. With the darkness so complete, he could see nothing, and had to trust Lance and his eyes. He lowered his head, using the wide brimmed hat as a shield against the branches, and rode South West towards the Delaware Water Gap.

  Chapter 21

  Land came into view the next day, and had they not set their little William watch, they may not have ever known. Vega was sitting in silence on one of the lounge chairs, entirely dry of small talk, and almost dozing when she saw the rock. It wasn't a normal rock, but a huge boulder nearly as high as the center mast.

  There was no way William missed seeing it. He turned south as they went by. Off the starboard side, Vega could see the shoreline, and knew they had finally reached the U.S., but she waited. Not saying a word, feigning sleep, she waited to see what William would do.

  She waited for about five minutes, calm in her pretend sleep before asking, "Isn't that land right there?"

  "What's that?"

  "Land.” Vega said louder, and sat up and pointed over the starboard bow.

  "No, that's no more than rocks. They are scattered about the oceans, you know. Have to keep an eye out for them."

  As he said this, Vega could see him turning the wheel in more of a South Easterly direction. It was obvious William was trying to pull away before Vega could get a good look, but it was too late.

  "That's land, William," she said seriously, nearing threateningly.

  He stood there, not answering for a while. Then his shoulders hunched forward as if defeated, and said, "It's not Florida. It's Long Island, I think. We still have a long way to go."