by Megan Hart
Tears filled Lily’s eyes as a pang of unexpected grief for her mother stole her breath. Lily scrawled: I’m happy Jane has a mother figure to look up to. I miss my mom.
Antonia raised her eyebrows. “Ha! Deena is Jane’s partner. They’ve been together since the Rise and Fall. Stupid name but I guess people gotta call it something.” Lily rolled her eyes. “I’m happy for them, though. Finding love in this mess.”
The fiddling stopped on a sour note. The crowd grumbled then hushed and started to disperse. Antonia looked around. The tensing of her stance said to Lily she saw something she didn’t like.
“Looks like the Angels are shutting us down early.”
Antonia strode to join the other women. Lily straggled behind. Someone doused the fire. The night grew darker save for the random blue crackles of Angels’ eyes watching them. Lily quickened her pace.
Once back in the barracks, Antonia bade Lily good night. Lily waved back. She stepped into her room and a host of spirits greeted her. They flitted through the walls and back like people pacing nervously. Some walked on the ceiling. Others stood fixed to the spot or sat shoulder to shoulder on the bed. The air carried the weight of waiting expectation. When the ghosts saw her they all began to talk at once but their voices didn’t reach her ears. Exasperation darkened their faces and they gestured toward the corner where the messenger bag lay.
Sorry, guys, I’m done with the Ouija board.
But like she wasn’t able to hear them, they weren’t able to read her mind. Phantom hands passed through her leaving a chill in her bones as they tried to guide her to the corner. Then she saw it, the Ouija board. It lay on the floor near the crumpled satchel and the crushed remains of the crystals. Her stomach twisted. Hands shook as she gathered up the hunks and smaller bits. Who could have done this? Why? The image of the shape in her window earlier came to mind and she glanced up expecting to see a face there. Only darkness.
Lily deposited the mess in the trash. When she turned around, the letters and symbols on the Ouija glowed like they hadn’t when the Demon and his little girl were searching for her. Pulse racing in angry beats, she rushed over to kick the board under her bed. Abandon her and come to life now, would it? The tip of her shoe moved the Ouija barely a foot. She reached down to scoop it up and liquid smoke flowed up her arm. It covered her like a shroud. The world tilted.
She spiraled through darkness streaked with pearly white. It seemed as if she were falling up and up and up, turning and twisting. Her back arched until her spine cracked. She screamed silently. The pressure released as her shoulders thrust forward but began anew in her shoulder blades. The bones grew. Skin tore. Blood drenched her tattered shirt. Then her cheek hit soft grass smelling of summer and promises. A white feather drifted by her nose.
Golden sunshine warmed her throbbing shoulders. Lily sat up. Mouth dry and heart pounding, she reached behind her. Coarse pinion feathers bristled under fingertips. Breath came fast and sharp, and she fought against hyperventilating. If it dragged her under, she feared she’d lose her mind.
“Relax, Lily. Breathe. You’ll be okay,” the alien voice from the grocery store, the one she now intuitively knew belonged to the Ouija, said.
Hearing the Ouija in her mind brought residual anger at its abandonment to the surface but she pushed it back. Lily took a deep breath of sweet scented air, then another. One more and her heart ceased racing. The ache in her shoulders dulled. A fourth, and joy lightened the heaviness in her chest. It reminded her of the elation she’d felt the first time she gazed upon the cracks in the sky so many months ago. The glee rose in her chest and spread through her until she felt as if she could fly.
In a blink, she was soaring through the air, a silent woo-hoo on her lips and the fear forgotten. Miles and miles of green pasture stretched below her. Far, far away, the west horizon ended with the blue membrane of limbo. Her shadow rolled over orchards of cherry blossomed trees as the sun glinted off a golden cupola in the distance. Bone white buildings dotted the green. Not knowing how she did it, she banked toward the city.
Oh my God, is that Heaven?
“Yes, but God doesn’t live here anymore. No one does.”
The wings spread out to soar and caught fire. She fell.
Again, she twisted through absolute darkness shot through with streaks of white. Flaming feathers swirled around her. The heat thrust scalding tendrils into her scapulae as wing bone melted away from her body in ribbons of ash. Down, down, down she went. A ripple in her temples drove away the burning agony. Cracks and pops sounded within her head. The sensation of bone grating on bone sent a spasm through her. Hot black sand odorous with brimstone and sulfur filled her nose.
Coughing, she jumped up only to fall to her knees under a strange weight. Darkness settled into her heart. It brought violent desires but before seeking out a victim she needed to rid herself of the cumbersome weight. Jaw clenched and nostrils flared, she grabbed her temples to rip off the horns she knew grew there. And why not horns, she’d grown wings in Heaven. They stung but didn’t budge under the onslaught. She cursed existence.
“Enough!” the Ouija roared.
Lily stopped. Her hands dangled at her sides, and she sighed in despair. A lake of lava lay before her. At its far edge black walls topped with some kind of gray metal tamped up the side of a mountain like steps toward a palace at the apex. Beyond that, the blue membrane pulsed.
Heated wind blew around her and teased little waves onto the surface of the lake. They licked the black granite steps leading down. Lily thought if she knelt here long enough the lake would erode the steps and then her. No one would remember her name. She belonged in Hell. Alone.
It’s empty here too, isn’t it?
“Yes,” the Ouija said.
Then what’s the point of showing me all this?
The familiar sapphire nothingness sprawled before her. Head unburdened of their horns, shoulders free of burning wing stumps, she gazed out at the mass of ghosts. She understood what the Ouija showed her. With Heaven and Hell, Elysium and Underworld, and all those before and between gone, souls had nowhere to go. They were stuck in this in-between space, this Purgatory. Lily wept for them.
The little girl with the caved-in head took her hand. “Don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it,” Lily said.
In surprise, she pulled her shaking hand from the little girl’s and put it over her throat. She had spoken. She had so much to say about what she saw to the ghosts. Lily opened her mouth to tell them the truth. Heaven and Hell…. Not a sound came out. Lily tried again. Nothing. Frustration brought back the tears.
“Take the child’s hand,” the Ouija whispered.
She did.
“Heaven and Hell are empty,” she said. “God and Satan are gone.”
After the last word was spoken, her abdominal muscles contracted and she let go the child’s hand to double up. A stab to the ribs brought her fully to her knees.
“What’s wrong, Lily?” the girl said.
Lily—breath wheezing—looked up through her bangs at the child then fell forward as an invisible shot to the kidney brought her down. The blue fell away to be replaced by the linoleum of the barrack bedroom floor.
“I command you to wake up,” Gabriel said and delivered another booted jab to her kidney.
She opened her eyes and turned her face up. Gabriel and Uriel stood over her, their eyes crackling with electric blue snakes. A fine sheen of sweat—pungent with the scent of fear—broke out over her body. How had they been able to see and touch her when she had been with the ghosts? No one else could.
“Everyone else were human,” the board whispered in her head.
“Finally,” Uriel said.
Gabriel ignored him, “What are these?” He thrust his palm at her. Inside lay two crystals, one clear and one pink.
Trembling, Lily made for her writing board but Gabriel kicked her back down.
“Answer me.”
She looked at him and
hoped he could read the pleading expression in her eyes, one begging him to let her get her white board. Uriel caught on before Gabriel and slid it over to her.
Lily wrote: They’re just crystals.
“Why do they glow and move through the air?” Uriel said. “What is their purpose?”
Another scribble: I don’t know.
The Archangels regarded one another. Gabriel said, “I don’t like them. They don’t seem right.”
“Does anyone else have crystals like these?”
Lily shrugged. Again the angels gazed at each other as if they were having a silent conversation.
“Until further notice there will be no more fireside parties. No more gatherings.” Gabriel said at last.
She quickly wrote: Why?
“Magic that isn’t ours is forbidden here,” Uriel said. “We’ll need to search every room, every bunk to see if you’re telling the truth. It’ll take time. Until then everyone will be under curfew.”
“And they’ll have you to thank,” Gabriel said.
When the Angels had gone, Lily gingerly pulled herself up onto the bed and curled up to ease the throbbing of the bruised muscles. The Ouija crossed her mind. Peering over the edge of the bed, she didn’t see it and if she couldn’t then if the Angels came back hopefully they wouldn’t either. Hopefully.
She slid under the blanket with the gnawing fear the Angels weren’t the protectors they claimed to be. As she reached over to turn off the lamp, a shimmer rippled across her grimy forearm. She twisted her arm. An undulating sheen moved under the dirt. Using spit, she rubbed a small patch clean. Opalescence in the shape of an A rose to the surface then faded.
6
April
Lily scrubbed pans in the kitchen tent amidst the chatter of the other women. Most of them blamed her for the end to the shindigs and the subsequent room search. The Angels hadn’t discovered any more crystals, but they did find a deck of tarot cards where the images moved on their own. Because of this they minded the refugees more closely, which, in turn, made the women ignore Lily. No one wanted to fall under the Angels’ attention. Even the ghosts ignored her. Since the last trip to Heaven, Hell, and the weird limbo, she hadn’t seen them nor found the Ouija board. Although, if she really thought about the random shimmers across her body, the board wasn’t missing at all.
Three silent Seraphim watched over them. According to Deena, who’d been raised a Catholic, the Seraphim used to praise God day and night but hadn’t spoken since the Rise and Fall. The six knobs of charred bone jutting from their backs disturbed Lily more than their silence.
“Incoming,” Jane said. A dishrag whipped by Lily’s head and splashed into the sink. Greasy water flecked her cheeks. “Bulls-eye!”
Hands already wet, Lily used her shoulders to wipe the water off one cheek then the other.
“That’s it for me. All done,” Jane said. She took off her apron. “Catch you later, bitches.”
The Seraphim blocked Jane’s exit.
“But I finished my tasks,” Jane said.
They wouldn’t budge. They pointed to the sink. Jane’s shoulders slumped, and she slouched back to it. She pulled out the dishcloth, rung it, and listlessly started rewiping the countertops. No one said a word.
“Bloody slave drivers,” Jane said. Lily caught the Seraphim’s stare and motioned for Jane to shut up. “They treat us like prisoners instead of refugees.” Lily cut a hand across her throat in the universal sign to stop talking now. “I’d probably be better off out there or with the Demons.” Then she saw Lily’s frantic motions.
Too late.
The tallest Seraphim raised a cupped hand. Inside, a blue orb danced across the palm. Like she was blowing on a dandelion puff, she blew on it. It spit and crackled as it descended over Jane yet didn’t touch her. Jane snarled and punched the sphere. A snap rent the air and she howled yet the sound didn’t carry past the other worldly cage walls. The Seraphim who’d imprisoned Jane walked from the tent. The orb rose with Jane inside and floated after her.
How is that possible?
“You bastards,” Deena said. Two pairs of eyes fell on her. She quickly backed up and kept quiet.
The Angels nodded. They gazed at the rest of the women then nodded again and stood one aside of the tent entrance. No more chatting, no more laughing, the women fell back into work they’d already finished.
Poor Jane.
She glanced at Deena. Muscles bulged in her jaw betraying how hard she clenched it while she mopped the floor.
Poor Deena.
Finally, the Seraphim released them from their duties. The other women dispersed. Lily saw Deena go off alone before following her back to the rooms from a distance. Early crickets chirped in the spring night promising a long hot summer. Behind her came the sound of heavy footsteps gaining.
“I just heard,” Antonia said, her words coming in puffs and gasps as she pulled up along side Lily. “Where did they take her?”
Lily scribbled on her board: I don’t know.
“Shit. How’s Deena?”
She wrote: Not good but not showing it.
“I’ll give her some space then go see her later. You can come if you want.”
The lights from the rooms fell in rectangles on the dusty ground where patches of grass struggled to grow. Lily and Antonia stopped.
In the distance, a blue bolt of Angel fire crashed into a small stand of trees. The concussion’s boom rolled across the field. Flames licked at the branches as a figure burst forth and ran in the opposite direction. Wings beat the air and the Demon flew off.
“That one was pretty close. Probably a scout looking for the camp.”
A wipe and a scribble: What do you mean “looking”? It’s all lit up. How can they miss it?
“I’ve often wondered the same thing. It’s crossed my mind they want the Demons to find it.”
Lily thought a moment then: Like they’re using us to bait them into the ultimate final battle for Earth.
“Exactly. Only what will become of us after?”
Lily quickly tossed dirt-caked jeans and shirts into a packsack then slung it over her shoulder. It wasn’t safe in the camp anymore. After the Seraphim imprisoned Jane, Deena convinced a number of refugees to help find her. They never returned. Rumors of kidnappings and torture circulated the camp, and everyone lived in the silent fear they may be next. The sense of community Lily felt unraveled.
Opening the door a crack, she peered out. All clear. She tiptoed down the hallway and out into a night smelling of barbecue. Antonia stood at the edge of the light. When she saw Lily, she nodded and they crept along the side of the barracks.
Overhead, a crackling sheet of flames raced by. The resulting blast shook the ground and knocked the women over. A hush fell over the camp, then the shouts of the Angels and the screams of shock and pain shattered it. Another explosion rocked the camp.
Michael’s booming voice came from in front of them. “Gather the humans and bring them to the pits. The Demons can’t take them.”
Lily looked to Antonia and she saw the panic in her eyes. Grabbing her friend’s hand, Lily turned to run but Gabriel blocked their escape. Spit drying up in her mouth and hairs rising on her neck, she cast her gaze about searching for an opening. Gabriel noticed and his hands lit up with Angel fire.
“You heard him, ladies, let’s go.”
It dawned on her that the pits were the ditches she’d been digging, and she trembled. She wasn’t able to help it. Antonia’s hand quaked in hers then squeezed as if trying to reassure Lily everything would be okay.
“Let us leave. We won’t tell anyone.”
Gabriel snorted and shook his head. “Everyone goes to the pits. Start walking.”
Hand in hand they made their way down to the ditches. Every so often Gabriel would toss a bolt of blue fire around their feet. The women jumped each time. When the pits—ringed with pillars of Angel fire—were in sight, the huddled crowd already there made them pause in the shadow
s. Gabriel allowed them the moment.
Something was off about the way the group massed together. It was in the way they stared at the Archangels standing on the lip. It was in the way the seemed to want to back up, unknowingly like cattle waiting to enter the slaughterhouse but sensing danger. The Archangel Uriel held his flaming sword aloft. In one deft motion, the sword swooshed and cleaved off the head of an old man. Blood—black in the blue light—fountained into the air and rained down on the crowd. The torso imploded. The mass turned to scatter only to be met by the Seraphim. The imposing Angels drove them back.
“Oh my God,” Antonia said.
Gabriel laughed. Lily could only squeeze Antonia’s hand tighter. Instinctually, the women backed up but Gabriel pushed them forward.
“Walk.”
Screams rose up from the trapped refugees. Pleas for mercy wound through the slash of Uriel’s sword. Blood spurted. Bodies caved in on themselves. Lily’s knees wobbled with each step toward the carnage. Bile sat in the back of her throat. Hot wind whipped her hair around her face. Dark shapes spiraled down from above. Sheets and whips of Demon fire touched down. None hit the refugees or Angels, almost like the Demons missed on purpose. The Angels turned their attention upwards. The refugees took advantage of the distraction and ran.
In front of Lily, spirits flickered into existence. Gabriel shoved her and Antonia forward.
“Keep going.”
Antonia fell to her knees and started to sob.
“Get up.”
She refused to. Afraid for her, Lily grabbed her arm and pulled. Antonia dug in. A blaze of blue caught the corner of Lily’s eye and she turned. Gabriel held a massive blue orb aloft. He swung his arm back. Lily’s skin exploded into brilliant opalescent letters and symbols. It began at her fingertips and raced up her arms. She felt the prickle of heat as it flowed over her torso and down her legs. Opalescent spokes radiated outward like a halo and bathed the Angels, Demons, and humans alike. The battle froze.
Nostrils flared and blood surging, she lifted her shirt. Mother-of-pearl letters, numbers, and symbols flashed like living tattoos as they undulated across fluid yet smoky obsidian. The sun and moon floated by and winked. She looked up. The battlefield crawled with spirits striding toward her. The little girl led the way.