by Dana Faletti
“No time for that, Calliope.” Silas snatched away my phone.
“What the-?”
“We have to discuss your next assignment, and you’ll need a brief weapons training.”
“Weapons?” Was he serious? I couldn’t even throw a dart and get it to stick into a dartboard. I mean, our basement wall was covered with holes - all me.
“Calliope, I know you have been utilizing hand combat up until now. Frankly, we were all impressed with your brute force. Most Arcs use weapons straight away.”
Straight away huh? Who was he now? Tony Blair? Simon Cowell, maybe? No, those guys were way to cool for… cuolots? Man capris. He was totally donning wide legged beige capri pants. What was wrong with these two? Silas and Jules belonged together.
“Calliope, focus please.”
I shrugged. “It’s tough, Si. Your fashion sense is blinding.”
He pursed his lips, and Jules flew in front of him, getting totally up in my face. Wow, she actually smelled really good.
“It’s Angel by Thiery Muglier. Now, girlie, you need to pay attention. Dis is serious.”
“K.”
“Calliope,” Silas began and looked warily to Jules who nodded. Okay, what was going on here? Their vibes were starting to freak me out.
“Up until now, you have been fighting against Darks with fairly average powers. Their senses, as you have observed, are not exactly keen. Their abilities to foresee an Arc attack have been basically absent.” He raised his penciled eyebrow, gravely. “The Raysers you will encounter tonight are far more evolved. They will most surely be able to smell you coming and will put up quite a fight. You will need to be ready for this and you’ll almost surely need to use weapons.”
“I don’t get it. I thought demons were stupid… and slow.” The ones I’d encountered had barely moved. Sure, some of them had gotten into my head, really messed with me, but I was learning to block that out.
“Some Raysers can do more than just give you a terrible headache, Callie.” Jules placed her hand motherly on my shoulder. Really? Nothing about her screamed nurturing, and this random act of kindness really threw me over the edge of wigging out.
“What exactly can they do?” I swear if the two of them looked knowingly at each other one more time, I was gonna flip. “Just tell me for goodness sakes!” I yelled.
“They can injure you badly, Callie. Angels can feel pain. Angels can…” She looked away.
“They can kill me?” What on earth had I gotten into here? I didn’t want to be the sacrificial lamb. Most of the time I didn’t even want to be this wacked out superhero slash savior that I was. I was so not doing this.
“You don’t have a choice, Calliope.” Silas said gently. “It’s what you were made for, your-“
“Purpose, Silas?” I was shaking at this point and really wanted to just let out a big dramatic girl scream. “Why can’t I just walk away? What happens if I just turn around and go? I could ignore you two for eternity.”
“They would eat you alive then, Callie. You would become veesible to them, and you would never stand the chance against them, not at this point anyways, leetle - sorry” She looked it too.
“Listen to us, Calliope. It’s going to be okay. We’ll guide you, teach you.” Now it was Silas’s turn to provide comfort. Flapping his tiny wings, he came very close to me and touched my cheek. “You have amazed us thus far. I have no doubt you will continue to be exceptional. You just need to trust us.”
What choice did I have? “This blows.” I kicked at some garbage at my feet.
Silas eyed Jules, confused.
“She means she ees not happy with the situation, Si. Blows – this is a phrase they use.”
“Ah.”
“How is it that these Raysers are so much stronger than the others?”
“Good question.” I wasn’t in the mood for Silas’s professor act, but I knew I had no better options here. “You see, every time a Rayser gains headway towards destroying a soul for Satan, it is granted greater powers.”
“What do you mean destroys a soul?”
“There are many ways to do so, Calliope. Suicide is the obvious one, and this provides the greatest reward. Raysers who are directly responsible for a teen suicide are granted higher levels of insight and strength. Raysers who cause teens to murder others are also rewarded with power. Only a Rayser who has caused the destruction of human life is granted the ability to actually kill an Arc.”
“I bet they totally get off on that, the little dumb clucks.” I so hated Raysers. Instinctually. I’d hated them for no apparent reason the first time I’d laid my eyes on them and even more so now that I knew they wanted to kill me.
“Yes, leetle Callie. Raysers love killing Arcs. They have big festas anytime they do.” She grimaced. “Their parties are so awful too.”
“So, you see Calliope, you have to prepare yourself. The ones who can sense you, they want you more than anything. You are their prize, their motivation for destroying souls in the first place. They are much like their maker, hungry for power and sick with bloodlust.”
I thought about that. Again, that somewhere deep place in me felt the truth of it all. I knew that Rasyers and Arcs must have been rivals for millennia. There was so much history I couldn’t remember, but my consciousness deep deep down was sending messages to my still mostly human brain that told me to heed Silas’ and Jules’ warnings. I wanted to fight these horrible creatures, wanted to rid the world of them, maybe even more than I wanted to be kissing Joshua Pride… Well, I wanted to do that too, but I’d work on that later. For now, I would gear up for a weapons lesson. Weapons and Callie Evans… who’d have ever thought those two would wind up in the same thought? Scary actually.
“Okay, Si. What do you have for me?” I put my hands on my hips, ready... He smiled at me and reached up… to heaven? It appeared in his hand.
Really? A slingshot? What did I look like? David from that Goliath the giant story? I put my head in my hands. This was so hopeless.
12
Slash. Gurgle. Plop.
Rat tat tat tat tat. Flop.
Duck. Twist. Snap. Crackle Pop.
Stab. Stab again. One more Time.
Slice. Shoot. Splatter.
Breathe.
I had just thrown myself behind a cement wall, attempting to catch a breather. Silas was not kidding. These Darks were tough. They could definitely smell me coming and were practically drooling over their gross selves and each other to try to get at me. The sneers on their soggy flesh faces could be interpreted only as a zombie like lust to get at me, through me and rid of me. It was scary to fight them when they were actually fighting back with more than head games.
My head was pounding too though. Visions of horror had been flashing in front of my eyes since the minute I got close to these guys. Dead babies, cannibals, war scenes… these Raysers were using it all on me. I could usually focus my energy on pushing the images away while twisting off heads and body slamming mostly immobile Darks. These guys were all over me though, claws, talons, acid spit and all.
I’d been curious to know how a Demon could kill an angel. I mean, I’d figured I was eternal when Silas had told me I was going to be sixteen forever. I thought it meant I’d never die. I was way off.
“Arcs can be killed by a Dark mortally wounding them. You cannot die in an accident or by a human’s hands. However, if a dark slashes with its talons or uses its teeth…” Silas tilted his head to the side and pondered for a moment. “There are many ways Calliope. All of them are physical, all terribly painful as well. Anytime a Rayser hurts an Arc, it is with pain that cannot be compared with anything else. It doesn’t feel like a cut from any other kind of knife or weapon. These creatures are so filled with hell, that when they wound you, they spread bits of it. A Rayser bite would feel like…well, hell… for lack of a better word. The most torturous pain you could never imagine.”
I didn’t want to imagine it. Luckily when Silas had presented me wi
th his genius slingshot, Jules had come to my rescue, slapping him upside the head.
“Are you an eediot?! Aye Mama – you need upgraded, Silas!”
Now I felt like Rambo’s daughter, wearing my ammo belt, machete hanging from it in a leather holster. I held the Uzi upright as Jules has taught me. It was actually exhilarating to be able to kill so many of them so quickly. Machine guns were awesome in that they got the job done fast. And, I was a total pro at this too. The machete felt like it longed to be slashed by my hand alone, and the Uzi trigger was my best pal right about now. This, I had to believe, was instinct also.
When I’d walked into the scene tonight, there had been about fifty Darks, all practically on top of this guy who was way high on something. He’d had a couple of razor blades and was using them to cut long shallow slices in his arm which was barely bleeding. The Raysers had been whispering to him to end it, to kill himself.
The first round of shots had taken out a good number of them. After that, those Raysers had come at me with a vengeance, four by four maybe… I’m not even sure how many at a time. I’d shot off another burst, but two stragglers had made it over to me. Their smell had been totally overwhelming, and the look in their eyes - entertained hatred. One of them had grabbed at me with its leather and bone hand. Gross! I’d pushed it away and fed the Dark a solid round house kick to its saggy face. Pop goes the demon. Down.
The other had been slowly coming up behind me. I could sense it. I’d turned and used the tiny dagger that Jules had given me to slash its throat. That was when I’d backed away behind this cement wall. The drugged out dude was sitting on the ground, his legs splayed out in front of him, his head hung with sleepy eyes. He didn’t look good.
Now, suddenly, I felt worse than he looked. My left arm was on fire. What the freak? I glanced down at it and noticed a small gash in my forearm. Blood was pooling at the opening. One of the Raysers must have gotten me with its gross gnarly claw. Silas had warned me that a Rayser slash was painful, but this was unbelievable. I mean, the size of this wound… it was smaller than my pinky fingernail. Something so small just shouldn’t hurt this much. Owwww… This was torture. The pain was blinding me. I was gonna hurl.
“Calliope, use this.” Silas handed me a tube of ointment, and for once I didn’t even ask him what it was. He didn’t linger for questions anyways. I squeezed a dime sized portion onto my arm.
I could breathe again.
Good thing too, because ten drooling Darks were headed my way, all with their gleaming eyes on the prize. Prize being me.
I pushed myself up with my hands and pulled out my Uzi. I wasn’t about to waste time on this crew. Pulling the trigger, I sprayed them with bullets from one side of their little group to the other. They all went down.
Except one. This one had ducked and crouched and… defended itself…? It had actually side shuffled through the chaos to the other side of the little bridge we were under. Maybe it was hiding behind the wall over there. I’d never seen a Dark do that. They never seemed to be able to realize they were about to be toasted; they had this dumb confidence when they were fighting- like they never even considered that they could die. They were basically unaware of anything but their desires in the moment. Destroy this kid. Kill that Arc. What’s that smell? They never seemed to get beyond this kind of thought.
But this one was different. This one that was hiding on the other side of the bridge… It was faster and smarter than the others.
I shivered, remembering the look on its face when it was coming at me, the sneer, the lust.
This Rayser was hunting me.
I felt an overwhelming urge to haul arsenal out of there. Gripping my gun, I started backing up, away from the scene.
“Don’t let it win, Calliope.” Silas’s voice in my head. “Don’t let fear disable you. You are so much stronger than your fear and the demon Mihm.”
“Mihm?” So this one had a name. That couldn’t be good.
“They all have names.”
“You never use them.”
“Focus.”
“Silas, this one-” but I had no time to finish my sentence. Mihm was coming at me on legs that looked like muscle and sinew without flesh, peering hungrily at me with fiery eyes in deep sockets. His long arms reached towards me, spindly clawed fingers curling in anticipation of my possession. I froze.
“Aye Mama, Callie – move!” Jules’s shriek thawed me to the point of movement, but I wasn’t fast enough. Before I could react, Mihm was on me, tackling me, his slimy skin hot and sticking to me like sour honey.
“Get off me, you disgusting piece of-” He slammed his open hand over my mouth so I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe but through my nose, and that was a torture all its own. I watched him study my face, a sneer lighting up his own. His nostrils flared, and his pupilless red eyes were practically shimmering with the excitement of having his prey writhing beneath him. A thought flashed…
What happened to angels when they die?
I was pretty sure I was close to finding out.
And then Mihm laughed at me. Not a hearty ha ha gotcha laugh. A nasty almost quiet snicker. He was so sure of his conquest, of my demise. Here I was pinned under his body, as cut as it was grotesque. As strong and sleek as it was dripping with evil intentions. His sweat and slime were dripping steadily onto my face, into my eyes.
It would have been humiliating had his laughter not ignited an angry fire under me and through me that lit me up. I reached deep within and used every ounce of strength I had just to uncurl my arm from under his chest. I quickly grabbed for Jules’s dagger and plunged it deep into Mihm’s chest.
He let out a kind of hiss, fangs bared like a snake. His back arched and he pounced backwards and off of me, his eyes never leaving his lost prey until he turned and hobbled off, disappearing around a corner.
“Who’s laughing now… Mihm?” I was talking big, sputtering really. I could hardly breathe. I had no strength left. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the drugged out guy, now lying in a pool of liquid on the ground. I didn’t know if he was breathing, alive dead. All I knew was that I was too wasted to help him right now.
“Sorry…”
I felt the life go out of me, let my eyes close. For the first time in a long time, everything was quiet.
13
Cough Spit Sputter Cough Sputter Spit Scream at the top of my lungs. “What the hello!?!” I sat up, my eyes focusing on cement and shadows cast by the dim light of a somewhere streetlamp. Fear crawled up my neck and into my ears, but I didn’t know why.
“Calliope, go to him… before it is too late.” Silas stole my hand from my head and pulled me to my feet.
I rubbed my eyes. “What just happened?” I felt like my bones weren’t attached to each other, like my muscles were made of Jello.
“No time, just go to him.” Silas pointed to our left. I squinted in the direction and saw a guy – either sleeping or dead – lying in a pool of… hmmm, that wasn’t water.
I quickly surveyed my surroundings. How the hello did we get here? And, why did I smell like lavender and licorice? I mean, it smelled really good, but it definitely wasn’t my perfume. I heard a deep raspy sigh from up ahead.
He wasn’t dead then. Well, that had to be a good start anyways.
I went to him.
Kneeling down, I took his face in my hands. He’d looked older from far away, but he had to be about my age. His lids lifted, allowing him to focus on me for half a second before his eyes rolled to the side and back and around some more then closed again. Suddenly I was behind his eyes too, inside his memory.
Little blonde angel boy, just about four years old, swinging in the sunshine.
“Push me higher, Mommy.”
Her laughter ringing in his ears, pulling his smile out even further on either side of his face.
Digging for treasure in the sandbox, maybe six years old now.
“Mommy, can I have a popsicle?”
“What color?�
��
“Red.” Always red.
A hug, soft and warm. Long pink fingernails tousling his hair.
A pat on the back. Zipping his coat. Pulling his hat over his ears.
“Stay Warm. Pay attention in school.”
“Yes, Mommy.”
A kiss on the cheek.
A squeeze of his hand.
So secure. So safe. So loved.
Crash…
Shiny black shoes. Squeaky and uncomfortable.
Tall bald man on the stage, singing something, wearing a dress and a colored collar.
Big shiny box.
Why won’t they open it and let my Mommy out?
Tears. Fears. Years…
Without her.
His eyes fluttered open again and stayed that way for long enough to make him wonder.
“Who are you?” He sprayed me with spit, eyeing up my Uzi and ammo belt with suspicion. What? Automatic weapon envy? A girl had to be prepared these days, right?
“My name’s Callie. What’s yours?”
“Len.”
“Hey Len.” I smiled at him through tears. “What did you take?”
He scratched his head, finally noticing that he was lying in a pool of his own pee. “I don’t remember.” His face was red, his hair still as blonde as it was in childhood. His bloodshot eyes wanted to be a warm brown, but they just couldn’t give anything.
“Let’s get you out of here.”
The thought of actually getting up and moving must have been too much for him, because he went out cold again, head plopping right back down on the cement.