by Ciara Graves
“No worries. You didn’t take my arm off this time,” he teased, but I didn’t crack a smile. “Oh, come on, Lela. I’m fine, really. No harm done. Already dead, remember?”
I looked at his half-smile. Here he was, a soul that had been dragged out of Hell against his wishes and thrown into a reanimated body, and he was doing his best to stay positive. To be happy. He was smiling in the middle of a war. A rotting corpse was having a better time than I was.
“Mech back yet?” I asked quietly, shifting on the couch, and tried to hide my grimace.
From Bobby’s frown, I didn’t do a good enough job. “No, he and Kexan might not be back for a while. You hungry?”
After that dream, food was the last thing on my mind. I shook my head, but he ignored me, saying he would grab something from the kitchen. He ambled down the hall, and I was left in the living room. All alone. Two of the lamps were on, and someone had built a fire in the hearth. The embers burned a dark red. I stood, stretching my stiff back, and went to the hearth. After a few coaxing puffs of air, flames caught on the fresh logs. I sat on the old, stained and faded blue rug in front of the fire, hugging my knees to my chest and tuning out Hadariel’s taunting words bouncing around in my head. The wood popped as the flames ate away at it bit by bit. Just like the darkness had tried to take me bit by bit.
Just as Hadariel was going to eat away all the good that remained in this world.
I rested my head on my arms and sighed, wishing I’d at least made it to morning. I contemplated staying up until Mech came back. I think I slept worse those three days when he was gone. He was probably right about us. When he was here, I sensed it and felt safer.
The view out the front windows was dark. It was midnight, I figured, if not a little later. Everyone else in the safe house appeared to be asleep except for the demons and humans on guard duty.
Bobby’s shuffling steps alerted me to his return. I sat up. He carried a small tray and sat down beside me. It took him a bit of maneuvering his limbs about then he managed to plop down in front of the fire. He held out the tray.
What was on it made me laugh quietly. My soft laugh turned into cackling until there were tears in my eyes, and I was holding my sides. Bobby’s one brow arched, his lips tugged upward in a crooked grin.
“Something I’m missing here?” he mused.
I gasped for air, then managed to settle down long enough to take the plate and thank him for the food. My stomach growled. I gave in. “A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A very human thing for me to eat. That’s all.”
“Have you never had one before?”
“Angels don’t exactly have to eat,” I reminded him, taking a bite. Within minutes, the sandwich was gone.
Bobby smirked—looked more like a grimace, really—as I swallowed the last mouthful.
“What?”
“Nothing. Mech will be happy to hear you ate a full meal.”
“I’ve been eating,” I said.
Bobby barked a laugh.
“What now?”
“Not like this, you haven’t.” He set the plate aside and held his dry and cracked hands to the fire.
I shifted closer to drag him away in case a random spark caught hold of him. His gaze slid to me, and I scowled right back at him.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“You, what happened, the nightmares you’re having.” He shrugged as he added softly, “You and Mech.”
“There’s nothing between us,” I said in a rush.
“Oh, no?” He leaned in, close enough for me to see the edges of his peeling skin and smell the lingering stench of death that sadly clung to him like a second skin. “You’d be better off not lying to yourself.”
“I’m not. He’s a demon, and I’m, well, just…” I trailed off with an aggravated sigh. “We can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Why not? Who else are you going to talk to?”
He had a point. I turned away from him and back to the fire. If only Nathaniel was here, I would have someone else I could talk to about these weird emotions and dealing with being human. My hand crept over my shoulder, searching in vain for my wings. But it hadn’t been a nightmare. My wings were gone, and the more I saw of Hadariel in the recurring nightmare when my parents were killed, the more I began to understand that it might not be a nightmare, after all.
“Lela?”
“Hmm?”
Bobby blew out a breath and scratched at the bald half of his head. His bony fingers created a clicking sound against his exposed skull. “He’s worried about you. We all are.”
“He shouldn’t be, I’ve told him that.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”
“And why not, huh?” I snapped. “Before, I could’ve helped him and the demon lords. I could’ve fought against Hadariel and the other corrupt angels. Now all I can do is be cannon fodder. I’m useless. Everything was a lie.” I choked on the last word as flashes of Hadariel appeared in the fire. “It was all one big lie, and I fell for it.”
“You can’t keep beating yourself up over it. He fooled more than you.”
“You don’t understand. Neither of you ever will.” I shut my eyes and hugged my knees closer. I wanted to wake up from this mess, but there was no escaping it. I didn’t exactly want to die, but Mech should’ve left me out there in the wastelands. The decision would’ve been out of my hands then.
“You know,” Bobby said quietly, “Mech doesn’t only want you alive for information.”
“Oh, no?” I argued. “Then what? My charm?”
Bobby laughed, but it didn’t last long. “There’s been so much evil unleashed in the world,” he murmured and when I looked at him, I found his eyes studying the fire. “Is it so hard to believe what you and he might share is the first indication that there’s a chance for a better future? For ending this war and bringing back everything that we’ve lost?”
“What are you talking about?” My heart pounded in my chest, and a weird warmth started in my gut. “The only thing between Mech and me is air.”
“Then why did you save his life?” he challenged.
I scoffed.
Bobby kept pushing. “It’s the same reason he saved yours. You two were meant to find each other that day.”
“What are you now? The zombie prophet?”
He stretched out his legs in front of the fire. “Nah, just a guy who might know what he’s talking about. I wasn’t always a zombie, you know. Hell, this isn’t even my handsome face. Sad. I was a real looker.” He winked.
My lips twitched in a smile. “Who were you before you died?”
“A guy who got mixed up with the wrong sort of people.” His expression darkened as the firelight flickered on his patchy skin. “People died because of my actions. Shit, I died because of them. I found love, though, once upon a time. She was an amazing woman.” He smiled sadly as he talked about her. “I told her loving me was a bad idea, but she did it anyway. Love at first sight, too. I would’ve given up everything to have a life with her.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I was an idiot,” he muttered. “I shoved away the only good thing in my life. Then I died, then this shit happened.” He paled as he whispered, “She died because of this war. One of the first.”
Never in my life did I think I’d be comforting a zombie. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, not even shying away when some of his skin cracked and peeled away. “I’m sorry, Bobby. We’ve all lost so many, but this war never should have spilled onto the surface.”
“You aren’t the one who did it.”
“Maybe not, but I’ve been fighting for the wrong side.”
The fire popped loudly, and we flinched at the harsh sound. The flames danced. I stared into them. My gaze became unfocused. I could almost believe I saw the faces of the dead. I failed to save far to
o many. A single tear slipped down my cheek. I let it fall. I realized I killed too many more who were actually on the right side of this insanity.
“I see him when I sleep,” I heard myself whisper.
“Who?”
“Hadariel. He’s inside my mind. I don’t think I’ll ever get him out.”
“All your nightmares are about him?”
I started to nod but stopped. There was more, so much more. I wanted to tell him only I wasn’t even sure what was real and what was a dream. Each time the scene between Hadariel and my parents played out, I searched for a clue. I searched for anything to tell me that he did murder my parents and erased my memories. When I thought back, I remembered clearly Hadariel coming to me and telling me they fell in battle. I remembered seeing their bodies charred by hellfire.
And yet, their cries and curses in the nightmare sent a shudder through me. Their words had been crystal clear every time.
“Lela,” Bobby said loudly. I jumped. “You looked dazed.”
“Sorry.”
I thought about going back to my room, but the fire was warm and soothing. It reminded me of being in Mech’s arms. My cheeks grew hot, and I turned away from Bobby so he wouldn’t see. The silence stretched on until Bobby blew out a loud breath.
“Right, then. If you need anything else, I’ll be in the kitchen,” he said.
“Don’t you sleep?”
“Nah. I’m dead. No need.” He climbed unsteadily to his feet. “Sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Only if you tell me where Mech was for those few days. Or where he is tonight.”
“Nice try.”
Once he was gone, I went back to watching the fire. It needed another log. I stood to grab one, cringing when my back seized, and I fell against the mantle. My breath came in short, pained gasps until the throbbing stopped. Mech said I could still help him in a fight. Who was he kidding? I could hardly move, let alone wield a weapon of any kind.
“Commander Lela,” I muttered to myself as I threw the log onto the fire. A spray of sparks shot up as I moved the logs around with the fire poker. “What a joke.”
Leaning the poker against the wall, I tugged up the short sleeve on my white t-shirt. The brand that designated my rank was there, mocking me. I ran my fingers over it, hating it. This tiny design had been a source of pride for so long, thinking my parents would be ecstatic to know their daughter followed in their footsteps.
Now, I wanted it gone.
As I considered asking Bailey if there was a way to remove it, the lights in the house flickered. The air became charged with power. I grabbed at my throat, struggling to breathe, then it was over. I blinked, coughing, and reaching for the fire poker.
“Bobby,” I yelled. My words came out strangled. I coughed and tried again. “Bobby!”
A thud came from outside the front door. The lights flickered again but stayed on. Hoisting the fire poker over my shoulder like a bat, I cautiously moved toward the long stretch of hall that ran from the front door, passed the set of stairs leading up, and into the kitchen. From what I remembered, listening to the conversations outside my door, there were several other buildings at this outpost.
Bobby still hadn’t answered.
A second thud echoed from outside.
I jumped when something solid slammed into the front door. “Bobby! Where the hell are you?”
Silence came from the kitchen. I counted off the seconds in my head, eyes shifting from the front door to the kitchen. My fingers twitched on the fire poker, the pain in my back going numb as I held my breath and waited.
I bit back a cry when the front door rattled in the frame and the power flickered a third time then went out leaving only the glow of the fire.
A second later, a siren wailed outside, and a red shimmer filled the air.
“Lela,” Bobby shouted as another thundering boom came from the rear of the house. I took two steps in his direction and ended up dropping the fire poker when something came flying at me from the shadows.
“Angels,” the thing said. “They’re here.”
The thing was Bobby’s head. And it was in my hands. Just his head. How—what? I looked past him toward the kitchen.
A cloaked figure filled the doorway. His head grazed the ceiling as he took one step, then another, into the hall. I backed up, clutching Bobby’s head in my hands. I gulped knowing Bobby was right. This wasn’t an abomination or a wraith or a simple zombie. This was an angel.
And I was without my holy light.
“Where are the guards?” I muttered as I backed up another step then another, mind racing.
“I don’t know.” How was Bobby able to function with just a head? Must be a zombie-reanimated head thing.
Shouts resounded outside. There were several bursts of gunfire and yelling. How many angels had been sent here? Did they come for me or to wipe the place out? We were only a couple yards away from the front door when it slammed inward, crashing into the wall, then falling off the hinges.
I screamed, turning my back toward the steps as a second cloaked angel entered the house. Holy light glowed at his hands. A two-handed sword formed, starting at his palms and ending in a sharp point that could easily run me through. The angel closing in from the back of the house carried a spear, chasing away the shadows with its blue glow.
Doors opened upstairs, and stupidly, I turned to look. A woman leaned over the railing. Her eyes went wide. A few seconds later, several more humans appeared. Humans wouldn’t stand a chance against these angels.
I whipped around as the angels’ boots stomped on the hardwood floor.
“Get back to your rooms,” I shouted to the humans, without turning around. “Lock the doors and barricade them.”
“What about you?”
I climbed up the first step. “Just do it!”
What was I going to do? Weapons. There had to be weapons somewhere in this house. The angels threw back their hoods. The gleeful, dark sneers on their faces told me they were about to enjoy this. It disgusted me, and my fear was slowly pushed aside as my anger rose.
I might not be an angel anymore, but I was still Commander Lela. I was not going down without a fight.
As the two angels tensed, ready to charge me, a lumbering shadow launched itself out of the hall and latched its arms around the angel’s neck.
“Drop my head and go,” Bobby shouted.
I realized the body attacking the angel was headless. It was Bobby’s body.
As the angel whirled around to take on Bobby’s body, the second angel lunged for me with a war cry.
I ducked.
His blade embedded in the wall.
I shouted, kicking at his knees, hoping to knock him down. My back burned as the injuries were ripped open. Warmth oozed from the wounds. There wasn’t time to worry about how much damage I was about to do to myself.
One of my kicks made contact, but the angel barely budged. He backhanded me.
I sprawled onto the first landing of the stairway. My back cracked into edge of the steps. Tears of agony burned in my eyes.
The angel tore his blade free, sending dust and wood flying. He marched up the first step, then the second, as the other angel and Bobby’s body fell toward the kitchen. Bobby’s head was rolling around the floor, shouting curses.
If my life hadn’t been about to be extinguished, I might have found the scene comical.
The angel ignored Bobby’s uproar and climbed up the short set of steps leading to the landing. Toward me.
I pulled myself up, my body moving too damned slow. I wasn’t going to get away from him.
He grinned, drawing his sword arm back.
I thought I heard someone shout from near the front door, but my heartbeat pounding in my ears was too loud to make out the source of the din.
What I did hear was the shotgun blast.
The angel grunted as the shot hit his shoulder. He staggered back to the landing. A second blast caught him in the stomach, an
d he doubled over.
“Lela, run!” Tim shouted as he loaded more shells.
Using the railing, I hauled myself upright and took a second to look at Tim. Blood trickled down the side of his head, but otherwise, he looked unharmed. He glanced my way and shouted at me to get my ass moving.
The angel was already recovering from the first two shots, and just as I reached the second floor, he was back in the living room. Tim fired two more quick rounds, but then the angel slashed down with his sword. The shotgun went flying. Blood bloomed along Tim’s arm. The angel followed up the slash with a solid kick to Tim’s chest that sent him soaring over the couch and out the front window.
“Tim!”
There was no answer.
Bobby’s head was still yelling curses from the living room floor. The second angel was wrestling with his headless body.
Crashes came from the kitchen, glass shattered, and then there was a loud slam as if a door had been shut. Whatever Bobby’s body had done, I never had the chance to see as the angel Tim shot turned his attention back to me.
I started for the stairs at a run this time, sprinted down the hall and into my room. I slammed the door and turned the lock.
The angel slammed into it, and the door splintered down the middle.
There was nothing in my room to use as a weapon except an old wooden chair or a lamp. I went for the chair and stood to the side.
One more hit and a chunk of the door slid across the floor. A third hit and the door shattered.
He rushed in.
I bashed him in the back of the head with the chair, then managed to hit him a second time before he grabbed it and tore it from my arms.
I let go and ducked under that damned sword of his. A door at the end of the hall opened, and I was being waved toward it by the humans inside. I shouted at them to close it, but they begged for me to get in there. With no other choice, I slid into the room. They locked it and shoved a heavy dresser in front of it.
Hunching over, I caught my breath, I counted the innocents before me. Ten. There were ten people in here that were going to die if I couldn’t stop those angels. I had no idea how many more might be attacking the outpost.
The angel crashed into the door, and it cracked.