Angel Dreams (An Angel Falls Book 2)

by Jody A. Kessler

  After he finishes with his hair, he holds his hands to the fire and I imagine the last few loose strands singeing in the flames. He turns to the mountains behind the car, looking over me, looking I suspect, for Corrine.

  Travis stands motionless for countless minutes and then without warning, he steps out of his circle, waves a hand in some cryptic pattern, and then walks away from the camp. I listen to his diminishing footsteps and want to cry with relief. The Night Terrors haven’t returned and this is my only chance. I wiggle to my feet with the hopes of hopping away and then fall down again hitting the hard earth and suppressing my cry. The knife? Is it still on the ground by the fire? I’ll cut my ropes. That is the focus of my next move when I feel someone grab my hands. They’re soft and very warm.

  “Quiet,” she says. “I’ll free you.”

  “Harmony?” I whisper.

  “Yes. Now go away from here,” she says as she unties me. “I’m here for him, not you. Fast, be gone. It is not your time.”

  “Corrine? The demons?” I ask. I can’t leave Corrine with him. Could I go get help and then come back? Would she be alive?

  “The demons are gone. Go. Find assistance.”

  I stare down the dirt road. Only the moonlight to guide me. I could make it, but if he comes after me, I’ll have to hide in the forest. The BMW is right next to me. Did he leave the keys in the ignition? I have to look.

  I reach for the car door, multiple thoughts racing through my head. Travis could be back any second.

  “Harmony, the angel Nathaniel is trapped by some spell in my car at the Springs Medical Center. Please send help.”

  Her eyebrows crease with concern as she watches me. “I’m looking for the keys,” I explain.

  They’re not there, but then I remember my bag. I stuffed it under the seat so Travis wouldn’t take it. I reach into the back and grab it. It’s my all-purpose take everywhere pack that has saved me more than once.

  “Juliana, he’s coming.”

  Panicking, I back out of the car but the strap of my little bag catches on the gear shift knob. I yank hard, not willing to give up something which may save my life. It pulls free, but I also hear the shifter jerk out of gear with a low thunk. Turning to run, I see Travis and Corrine step out of the trees. Changing directions, my foot pivots slower than my body and I trip again falling against the side of the car.

  “Stop!” I hear Travis yell and then a gunshot reverberates through the air, temporarily deafening me. I drop to the ground, afraid of being shot. As I’m about to make another attempt at escape, I see the stone behind the tire. I watched Travis put it there. Propelled by an unmistakable inner voice, I push the rock out of the way. The tire moves. As fast as I can, I jump to my feet, grab the doorjamb of the still open door and push the car backward with all my strength. Another shot blast is immediately followed by the window exploding next to me. I keep pushing, now bent over, trying to hide my upper body behind the car.

  The sound of Travis’s boots pounding into the ground overshadows the sound of the tires as it rolls away. He’s too close. I dare to look and he’s right in front of the car’s hood. I let go, jumping away from the open door and run as fast and as hard as I have ever run away from anything, but neither footsteps nor gunshots follow me.

  Seconds later, scraping and snapping sounds of branches against metal rolling through the willows blend with Travis’s string of curse words as he tries to rescue his precious Beamer. His shouts are suddenly silenced as a mighty screeching crunch replaces all other sounds. The picture of the BMW going over the small cliff on the other side of the brush is perfectly clear in my mind’s eye. Where he is, is not so clear.

  Corrine runs passed me and heads straight for the wreckage. I run after her, intending to grab her and get us off this nightmare of a mountain.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say as she scrambles over flattened willows.

  She doesn’t answer me as she continues farther into the shrubs.

  “Come on, he could be coming back for us right now,” I say to her back.

  “I have to see,” she says.

  There’s panic mixed with determination in her voice. I stop my pursuit for the briefest of hesitations. I can’t live through any more of Travis’s torture. He was going to kill me, I know it. But, I can’t leave Corrine out here by herself, or with her maniac stepfather.

  Holding my breath, I listen to the night, trying to pick out any boogey-men in the dark. I don’t think I hear anyone but my paranoia has instantly been ignited with the idea, and I catch myself looking all around the moonlit clearing. No one lurks behind me, but I feel my feet moving toward Corrine anyway. Safety in numbers, right? Fear and adrenaline pulse through my body, keeping time with my heart, until I see her standing as still as a porcelain doll, overlooking the river.

  I rush up next to her and peer down at the accident below. The car is upside down on its roof. I’m pretty sure I see Travis’s legs sticking out from under the car, but in the shadowy light and the dark water, I can’t be totally certain.

  Unfortunately, there’s more going on that I don’t think Corrine can see.

  “We have to get out of here,” I say. I grab Corrine’s shirt sleeve and tug gently. She takes a step backward, her eyes never leaving the wreckage. Maybe she does see it. Tearing my own eyes away from the fight below is taking every last ounce of my reserve.

  Harmony, and two other beings, are wrestling what I think is Travis Dawson’s soul. The struggle is awesome in the most dark and disturbing way. He’s liquid and smoke, twisting and coiling like a flying serpent. There are other beings helping — I think they’re helping — but they are cloaked and even more agile. They have some kind of semi-translucent net or rope to wrap around his spirit and hold him. Tiny winged fairies, like the ones I’ve seen near rivers before, dart around the scene holding the rope or diving in and out of the fight. They appear to jab, or bite, or pinch at Travis with their teeny hands and mouths, causing him to pull away in the opposite direction from their touch.

  I grab Corrine’s arm and force her to move. She snaps out of her trance and runs with me. Before we make it out of the broken bushes, I hear my name being called.

  Whipping my head around I see the angel, Harmony, standing near the cliff edge. She looks as fierce as a hurricane, and yet so beautiful.

  “He fights us, but we’ll take him,” she says in rushed words. “He meant to use your soul to take the place of his. Destroy what he has started. It will help protect you. Then be away from here. Quickly, Juliana.”

  The angel had shown herself in a physical form. Corrine’s slack jaw and wide eyes confirms it.

  I bend down and grab a leafy branch from the ground, my actions coming from somewhere instinctive. I know what I have to do, even if I can’t explain it. Then we run away from the car crash and the battle between the spirits, and toward the glowing embers of the campfire.

  “Who was she? What was that? What’s going on?” Corrine spits out in an agitated string of babble.

  I don’t answer her as I start my disassembly of Travis’s dangerous ceremony. Moving to the exact place I had seen him seal his circle, I stare down at the ground. I see the faint line of powder. Before I move forward I quickly increase the mental shield of light and the walls of protection around myself. In an instant it feels more powerful than ever before. Then I take my branch and start to erase the line on the ground, moving clockwise, and sweeping away Travis’s marks. A strange break in the air happens around me as I complete the first task, like the crisp feeling just after a lightning strike. Next, I move to Travis’s makeshift altar. The repulsion in me to touch the implements of his sorcery is as strong as putting my hand in the fire, but I force myself to do it anyway. Squatting down, I grab the four corners of the cloth and lift them altogether so the bottles, jars, and boxes crash together in the center. With my branch in one hand and the bundle in the other, I step over to the fire. I jab the end of the willow branch into the coals and stir
until they glow red hot and the flames dance. Holding the bundle over the rekindled fire, I release a corner and let everything spill out, hoping most of them will break. Something clinks and falls short of the fire pit, but I ignore it. We have to get out of here. I can hear angry bellows and piercing screams from the direction of the river. The sounds urge me to move faster.

  Corrine comes up next to me and throws a stone at the jars and boxes. I follow her lead, smashing the glass and cracking the boxes with rocks. The flames sizzle and flare, changing colors from green and black to blue and yellow. A small explosion happens and sends Corrine and me ducking, but neither of us are hit with debris. I kick and throw dirt and more rocks onto the fire, making an attempt to smother the remains before running out of these mountains. The glint of metal catches my eye and I see what it was that didn’t make it into the fire, Travis’s dagger. On a whim, I bend down and grab it. The handle is warm, but not too hot to hold. I don’t like it. I don’t want to be near or touch anything of his, but as I’m about to drop it into the center of the fire ring, Corrine reaches out and takes the handle from me.

  “Just in case,” she says.

  I nod in agreement. A weapon, especially a knife, could be helpful in a situation like ours. “You carry it,” I say.

  “Okay,” she agrees. “Do you know how to get out of here?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I say, and it’s true. Even in the dark, I could walk straight home and never get lost. Freezing may be another issue though. I push the thought aside. At least it’s summer. How cold would it get? Low forties probably? Surely not below freezing. I will get through this. It’s my new mantra.

  We start for the road and then I stop mid-step. “Wait, one more thing,” I say and then backtrack over to the last place I thought I had my hiking pack. I see it on the ground, a dark lump on the road. I pick it up, grateful to have it back, and thankful to my grandmother who always insists I keep the bag close to hand.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say. Then Corrine and I run.

  Chapter Twenty-two: Finding a Bear

  Juliana

  “How long will it take to get back to the pavement?” Corrine asks after stumbling over something in the road for at least the tenth time.

  “Not too long,” I say even though the truth is, we have a long walk ahead of us and when we get there, the chance of seeing any car in the middle of the night on the mountain pass is slim.

  “I’m not sure if I can do it, Jules,” she says through chattering teeth.

  “Here,” I say as I pull her shirt over my head.

  We’ve been sharing her shirt. Her pants would never fit me but having a turn at wearing anything other than my bra and underwear is helping way more than I thought it would. Corrine somehow isn’t holding up to the cold as well as I am, even with her pants and dry shoes. It could be her size, she is tiny, or maybe it has something to do with the drugs in her system, but she’s freezing worse than I am.

  She takes the shirt and puts it back on. Corrine has long since passed the small dagger off to me and I placed it in my bag, neither of us wanting to hold it in our hand, but not wanting to discard a possibly useful weapon either.

  I wrap an arm around her shoulders and we walk like this, sharing our body heat. How does someone find strength when there is none? Is there some secret reserve that is only accessible when needed? Does everyone have this reserve? Do I have one?

  “Will we be eaten by a bear or cougar if we stop and wait until morning?”

  “I don’t think so,” I say and take a deep breath as if breathing will help me be more understanding. “I want to get farther away. Then I can build a fire if you can’t walk anymore.”

  “A fire, really?”

  “Yeah. I have a lighter in my bag.”

  “Jules, please. My legs don’t want to move. I climbed all over the mountain earlier, and just everything today. I have to lie down.”

  Her chattering teeth and the tears I can hear in her voice should be enough to make anyone give her anything she wants, but the fear of what is behind us overpowers everything else.

  “A little farther, okay. I know you can do it, Corrine. We can’t rest until there are miles between us and him. Do you understand me?” Honestly, there’s nowhere on earth far enough away from Travis Dawson, and the angels trying to capture him, but I don’t say it aloud. Instead I send out a silent prayer, something I never used to do but find myself doing a lot lately. God, Angels, Michael, Mary, whoever may be listening, let Travis be far away from this earth, forever.

  “Let’s sit down, please. Just for a couple minutes.”

  Corrine stops walking and sinks to the ground pulling me over with her. With my arm wrapped around her back, I heave her up, not letting her give in yet.

  “Not here. Not on the road. Come on.”

  “I’m so tired, and thirsty, and cold. I’ll feel better after a nap, I promise.”

  She stumbles a few more steps forward because I refuse to let her stop. We ran for a while, and we walked even farther. I know a decent amount of time has passed because the moon is high overhead. It’s completely full tonight. Travis wanted to use the power of the full moon to assist him in forcing my soul to take the place of his in the afterlife. The thought that he nearly succeeded sends shivers running up and down over my bare skin. But the moon brings me one comfort; we have enough light to see as we make our way off the mountain. We can also see if anyone or anything is coming.

  “Over here,” I say, trying to lead her in the direction of the deeper shadows.

  Corrine doesn’t whine anymore and she even walks somewhat on her own as we move away from the small dirt road and into the trees. I have to find a place with some cover if we’re going to stop. And since I’m planning to start a fire, we need to be hidden from the road completely.

  I don’t think Travis is following me, but Harmony’s advice to get away was clear as crystal. Is it possible for a person to hide from an evil spirit? It doesn’t seem likely. It would be like trying to hide from the ultimate assassin. How did Harmony get rid of the Night Terrors? Was she successful in capturing Travis? And what, or who, was helping her? Once again I’m under informed. I’m out of my realm. I see things I don’t understand and I can’t talk about it, because no one else sees it. So, here I am, mostly naked, in the middle of the forest, at night, running away from spirits, Angels of Death, and with a girl who’s about to collapse. The best I can do is refuse to be a duck out of water. Protection and willpower are my only answers right now. We’ll rest under cover and I’ll attempt to keep a wall of light around Corrine and myself until, I don’t know…after tonight, probably forever.

  My ankles and calves keep getting alternately scratched or tickled by the underbrush but I do my best at ignoring it and continue moving always into the shadier places until there is virtually no moonlight filtering through the trees overhead. I hold one arm up and out, blocking unseen branches, and one arm around Corrine. She snuggles in close to me, staying quiet and trusting my direction. I hope her trust is well earned, because at this point I’m really only moving by instinct. It’s slow going and our feet are constantly catching on roots or stones. Finally, when I feel we are a safe distance from the road, I pull out my lighter and hold up the small flame, looking around for someplace level. I see the spot quickly, not by my miniature light but by a ray from the moon.

  “Over there,” I whisper, nudging us forward. “See it?”

  When we get to the place, it’s even better than I thought. The moon was shining on a boulder the size of a Volkswagen beetle, which isn’t great, except on the other side is a perfect campsite for two people. It’s completely hidden from the road, and there’s even an old fire pit against the backside of the rock.

  “Sit,” I say as I ease Corrine to the ground.

  She immediately lies down on her side and curls into a ball. I hope she’s not worse off than I think. There must still be drugs in her system, but how bad is it?

  “I need
firewood. Will you be all right for a minute?”

  “I’m okay, Jules. I just need to rest my head.”

  I squat down in front of her and place my hand on her forehead and then check her pulse. She feels normal to me. Then I grab her hand, feeling for temperature. She’s cool, but not life-threatening. Should I even build a fire? The warmth would be nice and the light too, but is it too much risk?

  Waving my lighter close to the ground, I look for small twigs to add to the dry pine needles needed to get the fire started. That’s the easy part. But I also need larger pieces of wood to burn and keep the flames going. There’s nothing burnable larger than my finger within the small oval clearing. Maybe this camp has been used more recently than I would have guessed.

  Moving farther away, I feel with my feet and continue to wave my tiny flame out in front of me. I resort to breaking some of the lower dead branches from the trees. After each loud crack I hold my breath and listen to the surrounding night, wondering if I’ve awakened some unseen predator.

  When an unfamiliar sound answers back, my heart leaps into my throat and threatens to erupt in a gagging retch. I force the muscles in my throat, and the rest of my body, to freeze as I strain to hear more.

  Laughter? Deep and chuckling, and definitely male. Something in the air tingles inside my nose. I sniff cautiously. Wood smoke and...food. Not just any food but the distinct smell of popcorn. As silently as possible, I creep closer to the sounds.

  “Hey, Crash. Quit fondling that bottle and pass it over,” I hear through the trees.

  “I’m not givin’ it up, man. This is the curviest thing we’ve got up here,” another male voice says.

  “No, it ain’t. Hey Butch, lift up your shirt for Crash.”

  A low voice, thick and gruff answers, “For fifty bucks, I’ll give you a private tour of my moobies.”