by Jerel Law
When Eliza and Jeremiah entered the room, none of them noticed.
“They’re not even looking up at us,” Jeremiah said.
“We’re still in the hidden realm, remember?” Eliza said. They had entered into that secret, invisible world, where the battle between Abaddon and Elohim takes place, when they realized they would have to fight.
Jeremiah pointed across the expansive room to a set of double doors with a red Exit sign above. “Looks like that’s our way out of here.”
“Yeah,” Eliza said, grabbing his elbow before he had a chance to explore anywhere else. “Come on.”
They walked in between two rows of workers, bent over their stations. They were sorting purses of all shapes and sizes that were coming down the moving belts. The bags were being grouped and boxed.
“Stop pulling my arm so hard!” Jeremiah said, jerking his elbow back. “You need to lighten up a little bit here.”
“Lighten up?” Eliza asked as she hurried them along, the thought of it impossible at the moment. “You want me to lighten up, after you almost got us killed out there? We were supposed to stay together!”
Jeremiah sighed, but he didn’t say anything.
“What is it?” she asked. It was normally impossible to get Jeremiah to be that quiet.
“I thought I saw something, that’s all.”
She eyed him. “Saw something?”
He cut his eyes toward her. “Well, someone, actually.”
Eliza folded her arms as they stood in the middle of the factory floor. “Spit it out. We don’t have all day.”
“I saw Mom,” he said, his lower lip trembling. “I promise you, it was her. She was across the street . . . she waved at me . . . then she walked off, and I . . .”
“Jeremiah,” she said softly, placing her arm lightly around his neck. “I’m sure you thought you saw her. There are a lot of people out there on the street, and I can see how someone could look like Mom, but—”
He wrenched himself away from her, glaring. “I know what I saw.”
“We don’t have time for this right now,” she said, frustrated. “Let’s just get out of here and find the others. Okay?”
They moved along toward the exit doors ahead. Eliza wanted nothing more at this point than to find the comfort and safety of the convent. But the door cracked open ahead, and light from outside came shining through. In front of the light, a sharp silhouette cut in.
Eliza and Jeremiah could see the outline of wings against the cinder block wall.
“Oh boy,” said Eliza.
Jeremiah was already looking around the room. To their right, in the corner of the room, was a set of steps heading down.
“There has to be an exit downstairs too,” he said. “Come on!”
He was pulling her now, hopping up onto the conveyor belt.
“Whoa, Jeremiah! Hang on!” she said, trying to keep her balance as they hit the moving belt.
He hopped down on the floor again, then up onto the next one. They crossed two more, moving in between the workers. Most of them continued doing their jobs, their heads down, with no idea what was happening in the hidden realm. Eliza saw one of them, though, a young man, look up right at her, almost like he could see. He reached his hand into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a necklace. He had a disturbed look on his face. On the end of the band was a cross, and he kissed it and closed his eyes, apparently saying a quick prayer. As Eliza jumped past him, she noticed a small tendril of light begin to extend from his body upward.
Good, she thought. We can use all the prayers we can get.
They leaped from the last table when the battle cries of the Fallen echoed in the room. The creature was calling to the others to join in the pursuit. Once again, Eliza felt the fear rise. One hit from an arrow and they would be dead.
She glanced back to see a group of them rising up, flying over the clueless workers.
“Get to those steps, Jeremiah!” she cried.
They finally made it to the steps and leaped down them three at a time, and Jeremiah pushed through a metal door. Flaming arrows blasted into the wall just above them, along with a spear for good measure.
It was colder down here, and the fluorescent lights revealed rows and rows of cars. They were in an underground parking lot.
“Let’s find the exit and get out of here fast,” said Eliza.
“Straight ahead!” Jeremiah said, and they began to run down the middle lane of the lot, toward the large exit sign where the road curved to the right and up.
Their feet slammed against the pavement, pushing along toward the entrance. Just a few more yards and they would be there.
They were almost to the end of the dark lot when a group of fallen angels rounded the corner, down from the street level, directly in front of them. Eliza and Jeremiah screeched to a halt. She could feel the pursuers behind them—they were trapped.
There were at least ten Fallen walking toward them, several with swords drawn, red flames flickering along the blades, licking the air with heat and fire.
“You two have given us quite a chase,” the one in front growled. “These city streets can be dangerous. Too bad for you, you ended up on the wrong one.”
The others grunted their approval as his eyes gleamed in the dim light. “But there’s nowhere to go now, is there?”
Eliza defiantly raised her hands and produced a shield of faith around her and Jeremiah. “Whatever happens,” she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling, “we both know who is going to win this battle, don’t we?”
Another fallen angel spoke from behind them. “Maybe so, but I also think we know who is going to win this particular fight.”
The laughs of the Fallen echoed off the low concrete ceiling. Eliza said a quick prayer to Elohim for support, and her shield grew brighter. She would need all of her strength if they were going to withstand the attack. But she knew that there were too many. After a certain number of arrow blasts her shield would be rendered ineffective. She would grow tired and have to drop her arms. She could pull out her angelblade . . . but they would simply outlast her.
They were done for before they even began fighting.
The faint sound of a motor went unnoticed by the fallen angels. It grew a little louder, but they didn’t see the truck until it was rounding the corner behind Eliza and Jeremiah. A yellow moving truck with blank sides, no lettering, pulled toward them. The Fallen behind them had to move quickly to avoid getting run over. They leaped or flew out of the way.
Eliza glanced down at Jeremiah and knew she had no choice but to, at least momentarily, put the shield down.
“Drop the shield right before it gets here, Eliza, and follow me,” Jeremiah whispered when their eyes met.
The truck was almost on top of them when she let her hands down. They ran around to its side, allowing it to pass them. The driver, a man with a hat pulled down low, pulled forward, unaware of the battle that was about to take place all around him.
The truck lurched forward, starting to turn upward toward the street. The fallen angels in front had to move out of the way now.
“Now, Eliza!”
He hopped up onto the back bumper of the moving truck, turning toward their enemies behind them.
“Elohim has already won the final battle!” Jeremiah cried.
A blast came from Jeremiah’s belt of truth, hitting the first fallen angel and slamming him against the wall before he disintegrated into dust.
He lifted up the handle on the door on the back of the truck and swung it open. It flailed wildly back and forth as the truck rounded the turn, but he was able to hold it open while Eliza dove in. He followed her, slamming the door behind him and landing on top of her in the darkness.
They felt the truck move up, out of the basement lot, and turn left onto a street. Remaining as still as they possibly could, they listened for their attackers.
“You got us out of there, Jeremiah,” Eliza said. “But they know where we are now. All
they have to do is follow this truck.”
FOUR
THE PASSING
Eliza and Jeremiah sat up, leaning against the truck doors, adjusting once again to the darkness.
Out of instinct, Eliza raised her hands and formed a shield of faith to cover them. The soft glow of yellowish white cast a faint light into the back of the van. It was empty, except for a couple of buckets, some brooms, and a stack of cleaning rags.
Jeremiah tugged at his lip. “Do you think she could still be alive?” he blurted out.
Eliza rolled her eyes. “We both saw Mom die, didn’t we?” It came out harsher than she had meant it to, and she softened her voice when she saw him hang his head. “I know you’d like to see her again. We all would. But there’s no way it was her back there. I’m sorry.”
She stroked the back of his head for a few seconds.
“Listen,” she said, leaning down and speaking close to his ear. “The next time this truck stops, we need to be prepared to jump out. Okay? I think we’ve gone far enough that our chances now will be as good as any.”
The truck lurched to a stop and began to idle.
“Okay,” she said, moving to the back of the truck. “It’s time to get off!”
She didn’t wait for him to agree. She threw the latch open, and light flooded the bay of the truck. Eliza grabbed Jeremiah’s arm, and they jumped down onto the street. She was able to latch the truck door closed just before it began to move again.
A city bus was behind them, and as the stoplight turned green, the driver hit the gas.
“Quick, this way!” They ran to the sidewalk, barely avoiding the front bumper of the enormous bus, and crouched down behind a kiosk full of I Heart NY T-shirts.
“Hey, I wouldn’t mind getting a couple of these shirts,” Jeremiah said, momentarily distracted. He stood up. “I wonder what size I need?”
“Jeremiah!” she said, dragging him to the ground and pointing her finger in his face. “You listen to me. We are not here to buy T-shirts! That’s the wandering attitude that got us in trouble in the first place.” She glared at him as meanly as she could. “You are going to do exactly . . . what . . . I . . . say!”
He gulped and nodded. Thankfully for him, Eliza’s phone pinged. She climbed off him and reached in her back pocket, studying the text.
“Good,” she said. “The others made it back to the convent.” She began to type absurdly fast. “The angels will be here soon to escort us home.”
“Cool!”
“Yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Really cool, Jeremiah.”
He thought about it for a few seconds more. “Does this mean we’re going to have to have a talk with Camilla now?”
Eliza stuck her finger in his chest. “No,” she said, a smile emerging on her face for the first time all morning. “It means that you are going to have a talk with Camilla. And Elohim help you . . .”
“Oh.”
A group of the Fallen dotted the sky to their left, quickly moving down the street.
“Get down!” Eliza whispered. She watched them from around the edge of the kiosk. They slowed down, looking carefully along both sides of the street. One particularly large fallen angel, with muscles bulging from underneath his black armor, flew along the shops just down the block from them. He looked carefully in each window, searching.
“He’s going to see us,” Jeremiah said, looking around, trying to figure out what they could do. “Underneath!”
They scrambled to wedge themselves under the cart as fast as they could. Looking out from beneath the cart as the fallen angel hovered by, they held their breath and tried to remain utterly still.
Eliza and Jeremiah were lying on the cold concrete face-to-face. She locked eyes with him and glared, trying to will her squiggly little brother not to move or make a sound and knowing it was almost impossible. She even prayed silently, Elohim, please let this bad guy pass by, and please, please let Jeremiah be able to be still. She could tell just by the look on his face that he was having a hard time. He closed his eyes, squinting hard, as if he were trying to hold something in.
She had seen that look before.
Oh no, she thought. Grabbing him by the wrist, she squeezed him just enough for him to know that he needed to hang on.
Peeling one eye over, she saw the feet of the fallen angel suspended in the air, right above them. He wasn’t moving. He had paused.
And then, slowly, the foot—the creature—began to move. Away from the cart, farther away from them.
Eliza slowly breathed out. They had made it.
But then a loud squeaking sound erupted right beside her.
She spun her head toward him, but all he could do was raise his eyebrows, unable to hold in a small grin, even in these circumstances.
Now she knew why he appeared to be holding in something. Leave it to her little brother to pass gas at the worst possible moment.
Eliza covered her nose and mouth as the awful smell filtered toward their noses. Her eyes caught movement again outside, though, and her stomach sank.
The fallen angel was back.
She closed her eyes, praying as hard as she could, as she heard him lean down and sniff the air just above them.
He knows we are here. He can smell just as much as I can.
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself looking into a set of yellow orbs attached to a face with an awful, toothy grin, its skin looking as if it had been charred by fire.
But before she could even scream, a silver boot came crashing down on the fallen angel’s skull. A blade sliced across the air, and the face turned to ashes.
Quickly, Eliza and Jeremiah pried themselves out from underneath the T-shirt kiosk and found themselves standing in front of a tall female angel.
She sniffed the air too, scrunching up her nose in disgust.
“What is that smell?”
Eliza stood outside of Camilla’s office back at the Convent of Saint John of the Empty Tomb, which doubled as their quarterling headquarters and home away from home for two years now. It was a shabby old building that no one walking by would take a second look at. Who would be able to tell from the outside that this place housed kids who had angel blood coursing through their veins?
David and Julia stood beside her, all of them quiet, listening to as much of the one-sided conversation as they could hear through the thick closed door.
Eliza squirmed. She wanted Jeremiah to get in trouble for putting them in a dangerous situation, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him as she listened to Camilla lecture him.
“And furthermore, young Jeremiah, you are not, under any circumstances, to ever wander away from your group again. Don’t you understand how much danger you put your fellow quarterlings in, including your own sister? There are battles going on all over the hidden realm, significant battles between the forces of Elohim and those of Abaddon himself, and we cannot afford to divert troops to go save a group of irresponsible kids who have gotten themselves in over their heads. Is that clear?”
Eliza heard his muffled response.
“Very well, then,” she heard Camilla say, her voice softening. “You are a wonderful student here, Jeremiah, with unlimited potential. Please don’t do anything that would jeopardize that.”
Eliza pulled back as the door opened, and Jeremiah, with sagging shoulders, emerged.
“Well,” he said, looking up at them with wide eyes, “sorry I put you all in danger. I’ll try not to do it again.”
He’d been punished enough. Eliza rolled her eyes and pulled him into a hug.
FIVE
NEW GIFTS
Eliza finally pulled her face up from the deep crease in her pillow, which was now almost soaking wet and smeared with the hint of blue eyeliner she had started to use. She glanced over to see if Julia was here. She hadn’t heard the door open, but she also was a little unsure how long she had been crying.
The wave had hit her in the hallway, down with Jer
emiah, as she felt the momentary, irrational hope that maybe a phone call home to her mom could comfort her brother. That thought was followed almost immediately, though, with reality hitting her once again out of nowhere—that her mom was dead and there would never be any more phone calls.
Eliza suddenly hated the feeling of having to be the one to comfort Jeremiah. She hated the fact that she had no one to talk to. She wished Jonah were here, and she resented him for staying away. She felt alone.
Half walking, half running to her room, she slammed the door behind her, grateful that Julia had decided to go downstairs to grab a snack. Flopping herself onto her bed, she had buried her face in her pillow, hoping the sobs wouldn’t be heard by anyone else. This was the third time this week she had done the same thing.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed, cleaning her glasses with a tissue, when the door to her cramped room opened. Julia, her roommate from Brazil for the last two years, came in holding two steaming mugs.
“I brought you something to drink. Your favorite tea,” she said, smiling. She looked closer at Eliza’s face. “Are you all right?”
Eliza nodded, rubbing her eyes, pressing her glasses onto her face, and taking the mug. She forced a smile. “Thanks for this. I’m doing fine.”
Eliza stood up and looked at her face in the mirror above the sink. She looked puffy and red, and there was no hiding the fact that she’d lost it.
She saw Julia standing behind her in the mirror, blinking and looking as if she was trying to say something but wasn’t quite sure how. Finally she just blurted out, “Are you sure? I’m worried about you, Eliza. This isn’t the only time I’ve found you crying and upset this week. It’s hard to hide when you’ve been sobbing, believe me, I know. There are times when I miss my family back in Brazil, and—”
Eliza whirled around, fire in her eyes now, not tears. Julia gulped and immediately backpedaled.
