by Susan Ee
“He’s earned this,” says Howler.
Josiah nods and steps back.
My mom steps forward with a lighter and lights a strip of cloth on fire.
Thermo takes it and drops the flaming cloth onto Beliel’s soaked body.
Beliel ignites.
His hair fizzles like quick sparklers, lighting up, then disappearing. His shriveled skin and pants light up as the flames spread all over his body. Waves of heat distort the road beyond him and warm my exposed neck and face. The air fills with the smell of burning gasoline mixed with the faint scent of meat beginning to char.
Five of the Watchers step forward and grab his burning arms, legs, and shoulders.
I move to stop them, but Raffe puts out his arm to block me.
“What are they doing?” I ask. “They’re going to burn themselves.”
“It’ll be painful. But they’ll heal,” he says.
All the Watchers take to the air. Their wings spread and beat in unison against the sunrise.
Just as I think that the flaming body between them must be burning them to a crisp, a new set of Watchers relieve them and take over the flaming burden. The others fly, crisscrossing each other like a net far below the body. Bits of burning debris fall, much of it burning out before reaching the other Watchers. The bits that continue to fall, the Watchers catch, one by one.
“They won’t let any part of him fall to the ground,” says Raffe in a quiet voice. “His brothers will keep him from falling.”
In the distance, the Watchers weave a beautiful dance in the dawn sky beneath Beliel’s shower of fire.
I STAND BY a tree on the side of the road and scan the sky above us. The Watchers are done with their ceremony and are flying back to us.
“We need to get back,” says Josiah. “The contest announcement should be happening soon. And then the big scramble for recruits will start in earnest.” He glances at the Watchers, and I know what he’s thinking. It’s going to be a tough sell to get angels to join with the half-feathered, half-skinned Watchers.
“We have to try to convince some to join us,” says Raffe. “And we’ll work with whatever we have. We can’t let everyone fall, and we can’t allow a civil war to start.”
I won’t be shedding tears for Uriel’s angels if they fall. They’ve earned it as far as I can see.
He looks at me. “Earth would be the battle ground if there’s a civil war among the angels. Everything in this world will be scorched to the ground, regardless of who wins.”
Just like the Pit. We would be like the hellions—half starved and insane, cowering in the shadows, constantly in fear of our angel masters.
I have to clear my throat before getting my question out. “Isn’t that what they’re doing now?”
“Your civilization was destroyed, but your people would survive, at least in pockets around the world. The apocalypse was never meant to annihilate an entire race. It was just the big event before Judgment Day. But the direction Uriel is taking everybody in . . .” He shakes his head. “If anyone survives that, I’m not sure you’d recognize them as human anymore.”
What did the hellions look like before their invasion?
I’ve tried not to think much about the future, but in the small moments when I’ve let myself do it, I assumed that there would be a time after the angels were done with their rampage. Our world would need to be rebuilt, but there still would have been people somewhere, wouldn’t there?
Locusts, the resurrected, the low demons. We’ve already been pushed beyond the limits of humanity. If this continues, earth will be the new Pit.
“You should go,” Raffe says to me. “This is no place for a human.”
“What about me being your second for the contest?”
“Nobody will remember that once they see the Watchers.”
“Are you sure you’re not just trying to avoid getting back into the truck with me and my mom?”
He almost smiles.
He walks me back to the truck. “Where will you go?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” Every step feels like a goodbye. “There are no safe places. The only place that might come close to that is the Resistance camp.”
A small frown mars his expression. “From what Obi showed me, those people are full of fear and anger. That’s an ugly combination, Penryn. They’d kill every one of us if they could.” By us, it’s clear he means angels. “They wouldn’t care if they killed us by plague or on the dissection tables.”
“They’re as good as it gets right now,” I say. “And you know where it is so you can find me there and let me know how things went. If you want.”
His eyes look over my face and hair. Then he nods.
“You’re going to win this trial by contest, right?”
“Absolutely.” He squeezes my hand. His grip is firm and warm.
Then he lets go.
“You better. And remember your promise. Get the angels out of our world when you win.”
I reluctantly lift the sword strap over my head. I hold the scabbard for a moment and feel the weight of it.
Of course, he should have it now that he has his wings back. I’m surprised he hasn’t taken it already. They missed each other so much. Besides, he can’t be part of a trial by contest without his sword.
But Pooky Bear made me special. I was more than just a girl with it. I was an angel killer.
“She missed you,” I say.
He hesitates, just looking at the sword. He hasn’t touched her since he got his wings back.
When he takes her, his hands are gentle. He holds her out in his palms for a heartbeat. We both wait to see if the sword will accept him back.
When she doesn’t drop to the ground, he closes his eyes in relief. His unguarded expression makes me understand that he hadn’t made a move to take her back because he wasn’t sure if she would accept him.
All those years when he was alone, he had nothing but his sword for company. I hadn’t fully understood how hard it must have been for him to lose her.
It’s good to see him happy, but it’s bittersweet. “Goodbye, Pooky Bear.” I stroke my fingers along the sheath.
Raffe pulls off the stuffed bear with its wedding-veil dress. “I’m sure she wants you to have this.” He smiles.
I take it and hug the bear to my side. The fur is soft but doesn’t feel right without its steel core beneath my hands.
We reach the truck, and I slide into the driver’s seat. Raffe looks into my open window as if he has something more to say. The dried fruit the Pit lord gave him swings back and forth below that vulnerable spot between his collar bones as he leans toward me.
He gives me a kiss.
It’s slow and silky, and it makes me melt all over. He caresses my face, and I tilt my head into his touch.
Then he steps away.
He opens his beautiful snowy wings and takes off into the air to meet his Watchers.
I WATCH RAFFE and his soldiers head toward the aerie along the blue sky and wonder what will happen there. A part of me wants to see this contest, while another part wants to run and hide. It’s bound to be violent. And I’m not sure I could handle watching, knowing Raffe’s team is the underdog.
I take the wheel, still preoccupied. Before I can start the engine, Mom curls up on the seat like a girl and lays her head on my lap. She rubs my leg as if reassuring herself that I’m really here.
Her breathing becomes deep and steady as she falls asleep. How long has it been since she slept? Between worrying over Paige and me, she hasn’t had much chance to rest. I’ve been so obsessed with finding Paige and keeping her safe that I haven’t had much room for Mom.
I put my hand on her coarse hair and stroke it. I hum her apology song. It’s haunting and brings up all kinds of complicated feelings, but it’s the only lullaby I know.
My mother hasn’t asked the questions that a normal person would ask, and I’m grateful for it. It’s like the world has become so crazy that it makes sense to her now.
I turn on the engine and drive us out.
“Thanks, Mom. For coming to rescue me.” My voice comes out reedy and a little wobbly. I clear my throat. “Not every mom would do that in a world like this.”
I don’t know if she hears me or not.
She has seen me in the arms of a demon, or what she thinks is a demon. She has seen me pop out of Beliel, riding a creature from hell. She has seen me in the company of a group of tortured, half-skinned Fallen. And she just saw me kiss an angel.
I couldn’t blame even a rational person for believing I was now deeply involved with the devil, or at least the enemy. I can’t even fathom what goes on in her head. This is a scenario she’s always feared, always warned me about. And here we are.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say again. There’s more to be said. And in a healthy mother-daughter relationship, more probably would be said.
But I don’t know how to begin. So I just keep humming that haunting lullaby that she used to sing to us when she was coming out of a particularly bad spell.
THE ROAD IS empty of life. As we drive, I see nothing more than a deserted world of abandoned cars, earthquake-damaged landscape, and fire-gutted buildings.
The similarities between our landscape and the Pit are becoming disturbing.
We’re halfway to the Resistance camp when I see a growing speck in the sky behind us. It’s a single angel.
I debate whether to speed up or stop. I pull over and hide among the dead cars on the road. My mom and I slide down in our seats. Paige has already moved ahead of us.
I watch through the rearview mirror as the angel nears. He has bright white wings with a torso to match. It’s Josiah.
I make sure he’s alone before I get out and wave him down.
“Raphael sent me to tell you not to go to the Resistance camp,” says Josiah as he lands. He sounds out of breath.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“You need to stay away from any concentration of people. The trial by contest is going to be a blood hunt.”
“What’s a blood hunt?” Just saying those words makes me want to run and hide.
“Two teams hunt as much game as possible,” says Josiah. “It starts at dusk and ends at dawn. At the end, whoever has the most kills wins.”
“What kind of game?” My lips are numb, and I’m vaguely surprised the words come out.
He has the decency to look uncomfortable. “Uriel insists there’s only one prey worth hunting. The only one that’s attacked back.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Raffe wouldn’t do that.”
“He has no choice. No one backs out of a blood hunt.”
I have to lean against the truck.
“So Raffe is going to slaughter as many humans as he can? You too?”
“Whoever wins the contest wins the trial. If Raphael wins, he’ll be in charge, and everyone who survives the blood hunt will be better off.”
My stomach feels like an acid volcano, and I swallow hard to keep it down.
“But it’s a long flight to victory,” he says. “A blood hunt includes everyone who wants to join. All of Uriel’s angels will join him. A Watcher can kill three times the game that a regular soldier can, but we’ll still need to go to the most populated area if we have any shot at beating Uriel’s team.”
“You do know that you’re talking about killing my kind, right? We’re not prey, and we’re not game.” I can’t get away from the thought that I helped Raffe get his team together.
Josiah’s look softens. “Your orders are to survive. Run as far away from populated areas as possible. Then hide in the most buried, most secure place you can find. You’ll have until sunset.”
There’s only one place that’s densely populated now. The Resistance camp.
And Raffe knows where it is.
Because I showed it to him.
It feels like the acid in my stomach is boiling and bubbling up to my throat. I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs.
“He wouldn’t do that.” My voice comes out choked and wobbly. “He’s not like that.”
Josiah just gives me a look filled with pity. “Raphael wants you to run as far away as you can. You and your family. Go. Survive.”
Then he leaps into the air and flies back toward the aerie.
I take a deep breath to try to calm myself.
Raffe wouldn’t do it.
He won’t hunt people. Slaughter them like they’re wild pigs. He wouldn’t do it.
But no matter what I tell myself, I can’t blot out the image of him watching angels fly in formation without him. All I hear in my head is someone saying that angels weren’t meant to be alone. The main reason he so desperately needed his wings back was so he could return to the angels, right? Be one of them? Take his rightful place in their ranks as an archangel?
He wants to be accepted back into the angel world as much as I want to keep my family safe. If I had to kill a few angels to keep my family safe, wouldn’t I do that?
Absolutely. No-brainer.
Then I remember the look of distaste on his face as he talked about the dissection tables at the Resistance camp. He wouldn’t want to wipe out the camp or kill anyone. I’m sure of that. But if he had to? If it was the only way to take his rightful place as an archangel and save his angels from falling?
I slide down the side of the truck and hug my knees.
I took Raffe to the Resistance camp. Knowing he was an angel, I showed him where the largest surviving group of humans was hiding.
A memory of the ruins of the Pit runs through my mind. Did the original hellions have some lovesick teenager who betrayed them too? The thought of a perfectly chiseled ex-angel falling in love with a hellion is laughable. But I’ll bet the teenage hellion didn’t think so.
I shut my eyes.
I feel sick.
Beliel’s words after he showed me what happened to his wife echo in my head. “I once thought of him as my friend too . . . Now you know what becomes of people who trust him.”
I climb back into the truck and sit there with my hands gripping the steering wheel. I take a deep breath and try to think things through.
My mother watches me with trusting eyes. I don’t know how much she heard, but she wouldn’t believe anything he said anyway. Even if she worked with him to rescue me, she would never trust him. Maybe I should be more like her.
Ahead of us, down the road, my sister perches on a tree branch, ready to follow my lead.
My family is here with me, and all we have to do is drive away. North or south—either way, we could be far away from the fight if we drive all day. We are about as safe in this moment as can be expected during the End of Days.
It makes perfect sense for us to head away from where the angels will be.
Perfect sense.
I start the engine. We head east. Toward the Resistance camp.
WE SEE SMOKE in the distance long before we reach Palo Alto. Paige flies ahead with her locusts while we continue to weave through dead traffic.
The angels shouldn’t be attacking until dusk. People should still be safe. But by the time we reach the Resistance camp, I know I’m only telling myself fairy tales.
I park the truck on El Camino and get out of the cab. The buildings are intact except for one, which is on fire.
There are bodies strewn across the street. The cars and walls of the school are splashed with blood. I hope it’s not people blood, but I’m not confident about that.
“Stay here, Mom. I’ll see what’s going on.” I check the sky as I get out of the truck to make sure Paige hid in the trees like I told her to. She and her locusts are nowhere in sigh
t. The Resistance probably would have seen her coming if they weren’t so preoccupied.
I walk toward the school, trying to see if anyone is alive. I only take a few steps toward the carnage before I stop. I’m afraid I might see someone I know among the bodies.
The wind blows leaves and bits of garbage. People’s hair flows in the wind, thankfully covering some of their faces. A piece of paper tumbles by and lands on a body that is staring at the smoke-filled sky.
The paper plasters itself against the body’s shoulder, right beside the pale, dead face staring blankly into the sky. It’s a flyer for Dee and Dum’s talent show.
Come one, come all
To the greatest show of all!
A talent show. Those guys actually thought we could have something as silly and frivolous as a talent show.
I scan the faces of the bodies draped across the hoods of cars, the road, the schoolyard, hoping I won’t see Dee or Dum. I walk slowly through the parking lot. A few people are whimpering, curled and crying on the asphalt.
In the school, the windows are smashed, the doors are unhinged and broken, the desks and chairs are thrown all over the yellow grass. There’s more life and motion here, though. People cry over bodies, hug each other, walk dazed and in shock.
I stop to help a girl who is trying to stop the blood flow from a man’s severed arm.
“What happened?” I ask, bracing myself to hear a horror story of angels and monsters.
“Dead people,” she says, crying. “They came shambling in after a bunch of our fighters left for a mission. We just had a skeleton crew to defend the rest of us. Everyone freaked. It was a bloodbath. We thought it was over. But word must have got out that we’ve been attacked and defenseless, because then the gangs came.”
People did this? Not monsters, not angels, not Pit lords. People attacking people.
I shut my eyes. I could blame the angels for turning us into this, but we were doing stuff like this long before they came, weren’t we?
“What did the gangs want?” I ask, reluctantly opening my eyes to face the world again.