Dust

by Angela Nock

  Sophia was quiet, only speaking when she was spoken to, although I got the feeling that every time she moved the rear-view mirror she was actually checking us out on the back seat. Mark, on the other hand, was talking almost constantly, only pausing to take sips from his plastic water bottle; We learnt he had two-million subscribers to his YouTube channel and nearly died of heat stroke whilst checking out the abandoned town of Kolmanskop in the Namib desert and his ultimate goal was to get to Pripyat, in the Ukraine, which was abandoned after the Chernobyl disaster of 1986. He had two Pomeranians who were back at home in Shoreditch with his girlfriend Heidi, a fashion blogger.

  We arrived at the abandoned factory, somewhere in central Spain, location undisclosed. It was nestled at the base of some rugged hills, and hidden by a forest of pine trees. There was a small dirt track leading through the trees to two iron gates hanging limply from crumbling brick pillars, and smothered in olive-green ivy. Sophia drove through the gates and parked up in front of the factory.

  The building was bigger than a football pitch and made of red brick with arched windows and a great double-vaulted ceiling of glass, most of which now lay smashed on the floor; tears glinting in between weeds and grass and dirt. The west wing had crumbled almost entirely and was now a pile of rubble with a small oak tree growing out of it.

  We all climbed out of the jeep. Mark grabbed his Nikon camera from his rucksack.

  'Follow me,' he said, straining like a prize-winning racehorse to get off the line. He raced up to the imposing wooden doors and rammed them open with his shoulder, dislodging the few remaining shards of stained glass from their frames. Slivers of glass, dust and debris rained down upon the floor.

  Sophia shook her head but remained silent. She took off her shades and placed them on the front of her baseball cap.

  'The building has stood for over two-hundred years and this guy destroys it in two minutes.'

  Mark appeared from behind the doorway.

  'Come on! You have got to see this!' He looked like a small kid in a sweet shop. He disappeared back into the factory. 'Woohoo!'

  Sophia groaned. 'Come on,' she said, turning to me and Josh, 'before he really damages himself.'

  The inside of the factory was both terrifying and awe-inspiring at the same time. The space was huge and flooded with light from the huge windows and the fragmented glass ceiling. It reminded me of a Victorian railway station, with its thick iron columns and glass curves. The air smelled of dust, decay and rust.

  Decapitated dolls' heads grimaced from steel frames, their glass eyes staring and blank, their bodies piled high in the corner of the building. It looked like a scene from a horror movie. Porcelain limbs lay forgotten in the rubble, and at the far end of the room, a kiln sat open-mouthed, waiting to be fed. A doll lay dissected on a workbench as if it had been pulled apart in some sick voodoo ritual. The factory was a cathedral to death and decay.

  But it was also a place of re-birth, for all around, even in the darkest corners, nature was blooming, from the grass and weeds poking through the cracks in the floor to the little saplings reaching up towards the light. Above me, high upon a rusty iron beam, a small oak tree had somehow managed to put down roots, a miracle of life in its world of decay. There was a sad kind of beauty in the place. A sense of the inevitable, a cycle of life that, sooner or later, catches up with us all.

  'Hey, look up here!' It was Mark, stumbling across a rusty beam as he tried to take a photograph of the rack of doll's heads.

  'Jesus, Mark!' snapped Sophia, as a shower of dust tumbled around her.

  'This is freakin' awesome!'

  'He's like a little puppy,' she said, shaking her head.

  'And he's going to end up killing himself,' I said.

  'Not if I get there first.'

  'So, Sophia,' said Josh, 'can we talk now?'

  'We already are,' she said, turning her back to us.

  'We know where the spear is.'

  'I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,' she said, over her shoulder.

  'Can we stop the bullshit –'

  Sophia spun around, hands on hips, a wild look on her face. 'You're on really shaky ground. Be careful.'

  'You know and I know that you know about the spear,' he said.

  'What spear?'

  'The Spear of Longinus,' I said.

  'You know what that is,' said Josh.

  'Do I?'

  'Of course, you do. You're the angel who made it.'

  'Really? And how do you know that?'

  'I'm an Angel of Death -'

  'Were an Angel of Death. Your music is weak. Your aura is weak. You're weak,' she spat.

  'And you're a Fallen angel,' replied Josh, his voice steady and strong. 'You're not long Fallen, I'd say you fell in the last hundred years, am I right?'

  Sophia glared at him. She stood straight, nostrils flaring, and her eyes on fire.

  'I need to find Mark,' she said, turning around to leave.

  'You're just as weak as me. We have more in common than you'd like to admit,' said Josh to her back.

  She stood still for a few seconds, before walking away.

  'Obadiah told us about you, you know. He thought you'd help,' I said. I knew this was partly a lie, but I hoped it would be the bait we needed. It was a long shot. I didn't even know if they knew each other, but if Josh had felt so strongly about him, maybe Sophia did too.

  Sophia stopped. 'That old fool?' she said, without turning around. 'I wouldn't be listening to his confused mumblings. He hasn't got a -'

  'He's dead,' said Josh. Although his words were little more than a whisper they carried around the factory as though he had shouted them. His loss, his grief, his heartbreak was laid bare for all to see.

  Sophia spun around. 'Dead? What did the old fool do?' This time her words weren't so sharp, or so sure.

  'He died protecting the relics,' said Josh.

  This time Sophia did not answer. She studied us for a few silent minutes, her fingers dancing anxiously at her side. Her eyes began to well with tears and she looked at the ground. She crushed a few slithers of glass with the toe of her boot, and they crumbled into dust.

  Even though no words passed between us, her loss and Josh's loss was as real and as concrete as the building around us. Tears welled in my eyes; I had never met Obadiah but I also felt their loss. It lay heavy on my heart. I may not have been an angel, but there, in that room, we were all equals; all touched by Death.

  Finally, Sophia looked up. 'Who's after the relics?'

  I don't think that it was the question she really wanted to ask, but I guessed that “how did he die?” was just too hard to vocalise.

  'Hyperion,' I said.

  'Hyperion? And what does a pathetic human like you know of the Seraphim Hyperion?' she said, pointing at me with her finger. Her nails had been bitten short. 'How do you even know his name?'

  Josh grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I pulled away. I knew she didn't mean to hurt me. I didn't need his protection.

  'He's after the relics,' I said.

  'Yes, I gathered that, but why? It makes no sense….'

  'Because he wants a fight. He wants a Divine War, he wants an Apocalypse,' said Josh.

  'What?' Sophia shook her head. 'Why would he do that? Hyperion's always been a little narcissistic, but, a Divine War?'

  'You know Hyperion?' asked Josh.

  'Not really. He's a Seraphim, like my father.'

  'He's not a Seraphim anymore, he's turned -'

  'Are you trying to tell me he's now a demon?'

  He shook his head. 'He's not a demon. It's worse than that.'

  'How could it be worse?'

  'Hyperion is trying to Cleave his Arkhe -'

  'Cleave his Arkhe? That...What?...But that would....'

  'It's true, Sophia. He's damaged, his aura has decayed, his music corrupted from his experiments. He is going to Cleave unless we stop him.'

  'We stop him? Why should I help you?'

&nb
sp; 'Sophia, Hyperion is not the Archangel you once knew. He's not a demon, but he's well on the way to becoming something even more hideous.'

  'Hey, you guys, look at this!' shouted Mark, from behind a pile of doll torsos. 'It's totally freakin' awesome!'

  My heart jumped in my chest. I'd forgotten he was there.

  Sophia rolled her eyes.

  'We need your help,' pleaded Josh.

  'Why? He hasn't done anything to me.'

  'Someone, I can't remember who, once said; “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing-”'

  Sophia rounded on me. 'Pathetic human quotes have no place here, little girl,' she screeched.

  'Hey,' said Josh, 'there's no need for that.'

  'It's okay,' I said, placing my hand on his arm, 'she's right. I mean, what can a little girl do? It's not like the human girl is trying to stop Hyperion from trying to destroy the world, whilst the angel stands by and does nothing.' I thought Sophia was going to blow. Her arms were tense, rigid by her side, her hands scrunched into tight balls.

  'I have seen the effects of Hyperion's experiments upon himself. I have looked into his tar-black soul. He wants to take over the world, he wants to destroy it. He wants to be God, and there's nothing he won't do to achieve his goal. He's murdered innocents; humans and angels. He destroyed Lysithea, and what he left behind even terrified Death. And Obadiah...' Josh's voice broke.

  Her shoulders relaxed. She was quiet for a few moments, then said, 'What do you want me to do?'

  'We need you to come with us, to Madrid.'

  'Madrid?'

  'Yes, Obadiah had information that a guy called Joseph Vass was trying to flog the Spear on the black market.'

  'Joseph Vass? I've never heard of him.'

  'He's ex-Nazi,' said Josh, fetching Obadiah's notebook from his jacket pocket. He flicked through, found the page he needed, then continued, 'Real name is Friedrich Hass.'

  'No. I still don't know him. Let's have a look at that notebook,' she said, holding her hand out, 'Obadiah's?'

  Josh nodded as he passed her the book. 'It was, yes.'

  She took it and ran her hand over the open page. Silently she removed her hand and then read Obadiah's words. She closed the book and brought it to her nose.

  'It smells of him,' she said, handing it back to Josh.

  He slipped it back into his jacket.

  'I still don't understand why you need me,' she said, 'you have Obadiah's notebook, his leads....'

  'We need you to help get Friedrich Hass to talk, to tell us his secrets. And most importantly, we need you to help us find the Spear and make sure it's the real one.'

  Sophia rubbed her chin and nodded. 'I've heard there are quite a few replicas, but how will I know if it's the correct Spear? How can I tell, if you cannot?'

  Josh smiled. 'Because you made it. You were, before you fell, not only a Warrior Angel but also the Master Swordsmith, the sword Starfall being your most famous creation. You made the Spear and only you can tell if Hass' Spear is the original one.'

  Sophia stared at him, an almost imperceptible smile on her face, and a definite twinkle in her eye.

  'Ok,' she said, 'Let's go. Now. Before I change my mind.'

  Sophia dumped Mark's bag outside the doll factory with a map, his phone and his euros as a refund and parting gift. We'd been gone fifteen minutes when she rang him to tell him the good news that we'd abandoned him. He wasn't happy. We could hear his ranting on the other end of the phone. Sophia wasn't even a little bit bothered.

  She snapped her phone shut, cutting him off, and then said, 'Prick.'

  Chapter Five

  I hadn't slept properly since I'd left Obadiah's apartment. I was exhausted, and so it was no surprise when I fell to sleep during the three-hour drive to Friedrich Hass' apartment.

  I didn't know whether I'd got the energy or the stomach for the fight ahead, for, I supposed, that is what it would come to. A fight. But was I up to it?

  I awoke to the sound of voices. Josh and Sophia. I didn't want to open my eyes, so I sat and listened.

  'So, what's the story between you and sleeping beauty?' asked Sophia.

  Sleeping Beauty? Is that how she really saw me? Weak and helpless and waiting to be saved.

  'Her name's Evie,' said Josh.

  'So, what's the story between you and Evie?'

  The way she said my name, the patronizing tone made me feel ashamed. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel my skin turning red. I hoped Josh didn't tell her, or he wouldn't go into too much detail. I didn't want her to know any more about me. I could've opened my eyes. Stopped the conversation, but I didn't. What did that say about me?

  'I love her, that's all you need to know.'

  A painful lump caught in the back of my throat. I didn't deserve him, or his love.

  'And?' she asked.

  'And?'

  'And how did you two get together?'

  I fidgeted in my seat. They didn't notice, so I kept my eyes closed and continued to listen.

  'I saved her. She attempted suicide and I saved her.'

  He saved me, I thought, and now your life is forfeit. My heart felt heavy inside my chest.

  'You saved a human?' she asked, her tone mocking, 'Bet that went down well.'

  Josh was silent. I wondered what he was thinking.

  'And you're still alive? Why didn't you get punished? I mean messing in Death's business, that's...well...I'm impressed.'

  'I was punished.' He was tired, I could tell, and I knew he didn't want to talk any more. He wouldn't want to bleed his soul out to a stranger.

  'And?'

  'Jesus. It's like drawing blood from a stone.'

  'How do you know Obadiah?' he asked, so out of the blue it took me by surprise.

  'Having a Seraphim father you meet angels, you know.'

  'No, I don't know.'

  I half opened my eyes. I could just about see her. She was staring at the road ahead, her hands firmly clamped on the steering wheel.

  'And?'

  'And...He tried to help me...Stood up for me when even my father...Look, it's not about me,' she snapped.

  There was obviously something she didn't want us to know, some big secret. But what?

  'But it is. You lost the spear. If you hadn't I wouldn't be here now,' he said.

  Even with her tan, and my eyes half-closed, I could see her face turn red. She remained quiet. I felt the car jerk forward as she pressed her foot down on the accelerator.

  'I'm sorry...I shouldn't have said that.'

  She glanced over at Josh. 'It was a fair comment. I lost the spear, that's true, but that isn't why I was cast from Heaven if that's what you're thinking. And don't even think about asking what the real reason is.'

  'Okay.'

  Okay? No, it wasn't okay. I wanted to know the reason she was thrown from heaven. It had to be something bad, didn't it? What kind of angel was she? Who were we travelling with?

  'No personal questions. We'll find the spear and then we'll go our separate ways,' she said.

  There was no argument from Josh.

  Hass' apartment was in Salamanca, a wealthy area to the north-east of the historical centre of Madrid. We left the jeep behind a white van outside the apartment block and walked over the wide avenue to a small restaurant called Maitia's on the other side of the road.

  After taking a small table outside the restaurant, we ordered three coffees and watched and waited. Hass' penthouse was located at the top of the large Gothic complex opposite. There were double glass doors leading to the reception at the corner of the building, accessed through a keypad. The ground floor of the block consisted of a row of exclusive restaurants nestled in amongst designer shops like Hermes, Prada and Gucci.

  I'd never been in a designer shop before. I wondered whether I'd be able to afford, let alone fit in, anything inside them.

  'How do we get in? If Hass is ex-Nazi and selling stuff on the black market, he's not going to ju
st let us walk in,' I said.

  Sophia took a sip of coffee and winced. 'I'll break the door down. I'm not sitting here forever.'

  'I'm not sure that's...Evie, what are you…?'

  Suddenly I had an idea. I was going to show her that I wasn't just some Sleeping Beauty.

  'I've got it,' I said, jumping up, my chair scraping across the flagstone floor.

  'No, Evie. Wait!' Josh stood up to stop me, but I was too quick and slipped away.

  'Just give me a minute, then come over,' I shouted over my shoulder as I crossed the road.

  As I approached the apartment block I saw the door to the reception open and a grey-haired woman stumble out, struggling to hold two bulging black bags, a mop and bucket, and a box of cleaning products. A bag fell out of her hands and gently rolled down the steps. The woman stooped to pick it up but the mop hit the floor and another bag fell from where she had stuffed it under her arm.

  I raced over to her and picked the bag up from the floor.

  I hoped my hare-brain scheme worked because I could feel their eyes on the back of my neck.

  I trailed after the woman to the small white van parked in front of Sophia's jeep. The woman placed her cleaning products onto the floor and opened the back of the van. I stuffed her bag into the back of the vehicle and passed the other black bag and mop and bucket to her. The woman locked the back of her van. She turned and grabbed my hands, thanking me profusely.

  'Perdóname,' I said, hoping that what I'd remembered from a school trip to Barcelona in Year Eight was still true, 'do you speak English?'

  'Sí, yes, I do.'

  'My friend over there has just been, er…robbed…robado…'

  I watched as the woman's face screwed up with concern.

  'She's okay,' I said, 'but I need to call the police. Do you happen to know the emergency number?'

  'Of course,' she said, with a sympathetic smile, 'it's 112.'

  'Thank you, thank you.'

  'Can I…?'

  'No, we'll be fine now. Thank you.'

  The woman climbed in her van and I waved at her as she drove off. I watched her disappear into the traffic before I tried my plan out. I hoped it worked.

  I walked over to the keypad next to the glass double doors and punched in the numbers 0112. My heart leapt as the pad bleeped and the door popped open. Quickly I shoved my foot in the door and called over to Josh and Sophia to join me. That would show her. At least I'd been able to do this, even if it was only something small.