Page 117
“Sorry,” I muttered, standing up.
Hurt flashed across Alex’s face; his jaw hardened. He glanced over to where Seb and the others were. It looked like Sam had twisted his ankle – he was scowling as Seb helped him to his feet, leaning heavily on him.
“Here,” said Alex shortly, handing me the keys. “Go get the truck; we’ll be there as fast as we can. ”
I nodded, longing to be able to explain. Instead I turned and ran. The Torre Mayor was right beside us; overhead, the remaining angels were just a few bright, struggling blurs. Running footsteps caught up with me as Liz appeared.
“This is so not good,” she panted as another rumble shook the ground. Trash cans clattered nearby. I couldn’t answer; suddenly urgency was hammering through me, making me run faster than I’d ever run before.
We rounded the corner onto the Rio Atoyac. The guard had abandoned his booth; we ducked under the barrier and scrambled over the metal blocker, skidding our way down the other side. In the loading dock, the 4 x 4 was just where we’d left it, looking weirdly ordinary as it sat there.
Liz got into the front next to me as I started the engine. I spun the wheel, screeching us into reverse – and then stared at the blocker at the top of the drive. From this angle, it was a steep ramp jutting off into space. As another tremor hit, I sent my angel speeding to check the guard booth. The buttons on the display panel needed a key to operate them – there was no key in sight.
Only seconds had passed. “What. . . what are you going to do?” asked Liz as my angel returned in a flurry.
The Dukes of Hazzard flashed grimly into my mind. “Um – I think seat belts might be an idea,” I said, buckling mine on. My mouth felt dry; the ramp was looking steeper by the second. I gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, keeping my gaze fixed on it.
Liz clicked on her own seat belt, her pale cheeks growing paler as she glanced at me. “Willow, you’re not really going to––”
“Hang on,” I said – and floored it.
We hit the ramp going about thirty miles an hour and, for a heart-stopping second, catapulted through the air, clearing the barrier. We slammed to the ground, front wheels first; the truck rocked like a bucking bronco, wrenching us forward and then back. Somehow I kept control; I pumped the accelerator and threw the wheel hard, lurching us out onto the road and then back towards where we’d landed.
“Oh my god, we actually made it!” gasped Liz. I let out a shaky breath. I was sort of surprised myself.
Alex and the others were half a block away. When I pulled up beside them, Alex threw the car door open and he and Seb helped Sam in. “Christ, I swear I’ve broken it,” muttered Sam, dropping his head back on the seat. His face was white.
Alex slammed the door shut once they were all inside. “I think it’s just a sprain – but you got off lucky, okay? We all did. ”
I could feel Seb’s anxiety prickling at my skin, and knew he could sense the same thing I could: the giant roots were completely out of control now, lashing through the earth. We had to get out of this city, now.
As I roared away from the kerb, I saw that there were only two angels fighting up above now. Two. Did that mean Raziel was still alive? The road trembled and I accelerated, trying to keep ahead of the tremor as another whip of energy slashed through the air. As it swiped past the two angels there was a burst of radiance, like sun sparkling on water.
And then nothing at all.
My heart felt ready to burst in my chest. Was Raziel really gone now? Briefly, my eyes met Alex’s in the rear-view mirror. I could tell he didn’t know either – but I knew the answer he was hoping for. Then I swerved the truck onto the Paseo de la Reforma, and we couldn’t see the place where they’d been any more.
I swerved us in and out of traffic, completely ignoring the honking horns. The road got clearer as I went on – as the tremors continued, people were pulling over to the side. Mexico City got a lot of earthquakes. In an ordinary one, not driving was probably the sensible option. I had no intention of taking it, not with the way the energy of this place suddenly felt. A truck was in my way; Sam howled in pain as I hurtled us up onto the grassy divide and then back onto the road again. And as we continued north down the Paseo de la Reforma, I saw with a chill how right I was to want to get us out of here as quickly as possible.
Up ahead was the empty column where the Mexico City angel had once stood, holding her golden garland up to the sky. It was swaying back and forth like a too-tall Jenga tower.
“Dios mío,” whispered Seb from the back.
There was no way around; I gritted my teeth and sped towards it. As it started to fall across the road, Liz screamed, scrabbling backwards in her seat – then we’d shot underneath it and were safely out the other side.
Sam laughed weakly. “Oh, man – where can I nominate you for driver of the year?”
My hands were clenched so hard it felt like they’d been glued to the steering wheel. “Don’t push our luck,” I said, keeping my eyes on the lurching road. “Maybe you should hold off until I actually get us out of the city. ”
“You will,” said Alex, his voice firm. “You will. ”
And somehow I did.
By sunset, we were wending our way up a mountain road. The quake didn’t seem to have been so bad here, though we still had to manoeuvre around fallen trees sometimes. It felt peaceful though: the way the mountains reached towards the sky like they’d always been there and always would be.
Peaceful was good. Peaceful was very good.
Alex had taken over driving; I was in the back beside Seb. He sat without talking, his gaze distant, and I could feel his pain over what had happened to the city of his birth. Because as I’d finally reached the outskirts of Mexico City, I’d seen something in the rear-view mirror that had stolen the breath from my lungs: the earth had reared up from the centro and was literally rolling. Buildings shuddered and fell as the concrete tidal wave passed; cars slipped into crevasses. I’d pulled over to the side of the road, trembling too hard to drive as we all stared.
Finally the wave had juddered out into nothing. And then there’d been the most complete silence I’d ever heard, with dust rising up in a great plume.
That’s when Alex had taken over, getting out from the back and opening the driver’s door. “Get in the back, you’ve had enough,” he said, his face like stone from what we’d just seen. I didn’t argue.
Hardly any of us had spoken after that. Hardly any of us were speaking now, several hours later. The expression on Seb’s face wrung my heart. He’d always hated Mexico City because of all he’d been through there, but for him to see it flattened that way. . . I swallowed, my temples throbbing. Though I ached to hold him and be held, somehow I still couldn’t break through the awkwardness between us, no matter how much I wanted to.
From the front, Liz cleared her throat. “I wonder if Kara and Brendan are okay,” she said in a small voice. She didn’t mention Wesley and Trish. I didn’t blame her. Just thinking about them hurt too much.
“Hope so,” said Alex shortly, shifting gears. We’d tried to call them, but nobody’s cellphones were working. And what we all knew hung in the air, unspoken: they could easily have been attacked by a mob on their way down the stairwell, especially if they were slowed down by Brendan’s injured leg.
Angel Fire Page 117