Angel Radio

by A. M. Blaushild

  “Seems like that actually worked,” said Fex, looking very impressed with himself. He turned around, but found the wall had resealed itself.

  He started the process of burning the curtain of darkness again, and I started on my way. I looked up, however, and saw that while a couple of the tendrils had been distracted, there were far too many for that to have been effective. One was slowly lowering itself to my level, and I ran back to Fex.

  He had yet to finish clearing the wall, and at the sight of the demons he froze up completely. He placed his other hand against the wall in an attempt to speed up the process, and as the demon got closer and closer, resorted to flat-out punching the wall. He was shaking.

  “Can’t you just burn the thing?” I asked, hiding behind him.

  “You do remember what I said about not overusing my power, right?”

  I shook him. “Do you want to die?”

  “I can’t kill them!” he finally confessed. He cracked his knuckles. Other demons were joining the approach, and though they were moving slowly, they were getting very close.

  He sighed. “I do not believe this,” he said. “Remind me to never offer you any sort of help ever again.”

  Fex was sort of everything then, almost. It was hard to tell, and indeed, painful to even look at. His body had become fire, and his face had been long distorted into something that indeed reminded me of a dragon, though that could be argued down into a coincidence, for instead of horns he had great folds like wings, and instead of scales he had eyes.

  Along the back of his head ran something like a halo, a large ring that looked transparent, and acted as a vessel for the firelight. But it had another purpose as well, and like sails he had wings on his halo, arching out and broad and in every color at once.

  He was still almost human in shape, though this was very hard to properly guess, as he had become very much larger than a human. He towered over me, in fact, and I could only really see his torso. He had about six arms, each one coated in feathers and, while looking human, had nails like claws.

  He had a mouth on his stomach as well, and none on his face.

  And he was entirely silent, and very, very bright.

  He raised one of his wings very slowly, like he was still acting with caution, and then at once unfurled another and another, until his three largest pairs were open. Wherever his primary feathers touched was caught by flame, and though the leaves burned, they were not destroyed.

  But the demons were. At first they fled, and then they died, falling to the ground like seedlings, tails wrapped around themselves like snakes.

  Fex moved forward slowly, almost dragging himself by his hands. I didn’t feel safe enough to emerge from under his protection, so I couldn’t be sure he even had feet.

  It was only a little bit into the woods, with hundreds of demons still falling from the sky, that Fex let out one more great sigh of unearthly flame and bundled himself again to a human-shape.

  “It’s a straight on walk from here on out,” he promised in between pants.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving off my concern and getting to his feet. “Out of practice, obviously. But you make it sound like going to my natural state is somehow harder than cramming myself up into a tiny little mobile plant like this.”

  “Humans aren’t plants.”

  “Very similar,” he said, showing the supposed distance with his fingers. “Tiny difference.”

  “Let’s get going already,” I said, and I almost had to drag him to make him walk fast enough.

  20

  FEX SEEMED to get weaker as we walked, and by the time the exit was in sight he was leaning on my shoulder and breathing very fast. I tried to help him stumble along best I could, though. As it turned out he had in no way killed all the demons. They watched us very carefully as we made our way through the woods.

  When we crossed the threshold into the now dampening daylight outside, he looked instantly rejuvenated. Though he continued relying on my support for a couple yards, eventually he began to walk on his own. He only took a few steps before sitting down on the road, however.

  “Shouldn’t we find somewhere farther away from the giant wall of darkness?” I asked. Even from here I could see it move, advancing slowly.

  “It’ll take ages to reach us. As long as I’m this close to it, none of my brethren will come and look for me. I need this time to think of an actual excuse for my actions today.”

  “So what, they already know what you did?”

  “No, not yet. But they will when I return.” He sighed heavily. “It really figures that I use you to get my rank back, and it’s due to you I’ll lose it again.”

  “If you don’t want to lose your power, why don’t you just not return?”

  “They’ll know if I don’t. Then my punishment will be worse. We’re good at watching, if you haven’t yet noticed. No one is watching now since we’re so close to this void—they may think me for dead. But the moment I leave this area, I will be expected to return. To report.”

  “Where is it you return to anyway? Is it some sort of extradimensional space you can only access via magical teleportation?”

  “It’s in Canada.”

  “Oh.”

  “It has to be physically real, since, you know, your friend Midori has to be able to go there. Otherwise we totally would have a pocket dimension as a secret headquarters,” he said.

  “You guys are ridiculous, you know that? Power that humans can only dream of, and you’re running around making fake campsites. You’ve mastered dimensional travel and still feel the need to—” I stopped talking to study Fex’s face, which he was twisting oddly.

  “I kid!” He broke into a laugh like he was especially unused to it, showing too many teeth and taking large breaths. “Such a thing is very impossible.”

  I gave him a look as I waited for him to stop. Unfortunately, he seemed especially amused by his own joke, and it took a long time before I could speak. “What are they going to do to Midori?”

  “Honestly?” His face fell back into a perfectly rehearsed blank state. “Not much. We put a lot more fanfare into it than it deserves. I’m still surprised they chose her.”

  “You know, when I ask these sorts of questions, I usually expect concise replies that actually answer them. And what, you thought I’d get chosen for your stupid angel ritual?”

  “Obviously not. You’re almost entirely unfit. It’d be disastrous. Neither of you is really ideal actually. There was supposed to be a lot more conditioning, but I’m afraid we’ve gotten desperate. We had other top choices before you two, but… I’m forced to assume Gavreel knew what he was doing when he ordered for Midori instead.”

  “How many humans really survived?”

  “Thousands. I’m afraid we’re not that thorough.”

  “But now how many are left?”

  “A lot less. A good 50 percent were set apart for death at the start, and from there we still had to purify the population from un-ideals. And well, eventually it got to the point where we only had a couple with orders to let live. I’m not saying there’s no more humans. But I am saying they all have a death sentence hanging over them.”

  “Amazing. And fantastic, just fantastic really. How many have you killed, anyway? I know you’ve been hanging around me, but tell me, how many humans have you killed?”

  “That’s a tricky and loaded question to answer. I honestly can’t say for certain.”

  “What, you can’t remember? Is life that meaningless to you?”

  “It’s… odder than that, I’m afraid. Simple to explain, once again, but I am not allowed to do so.”

  “Look, aren’t you on the equivalent of death row right now? You might as well spill all the secrets you know.”

  “I’m not going to die,” he said quietly, with a mocking edge. “Besides, I’ll get off easier if I don’t betray my superiors’ trust.”

  “Ugh. How will they know what you tel
l me? There has got to be some way to weasel the truth out of you. There’s just way too much I don’t know about what’s going on right now.”

  “Come to Eden, then.”

  “In Canada?”

  “Yes, Canada. We’re not that much farther up from here. If you want truth, it’s probably going to be your best bet.”

  “Not to dismiss your suggestion here, but how do you even know what Canada is?”

  “What, like we wouldn’t do research before putting our plan into action? We know all about various human inventions and actions. I was part of the early research. For example, watch this.” He leaned over and widened his eyes and stared unblinkingly at me.

  “Why are you staring so intensely into my eyes? Somehow I worry this isn’t a regular human interaction in the slightest.”

  “Think of it as my way of say… holding hands.”

  “Why don’t you just do that, then? Because trust me, this isn’t normal.”

  He looked genuinely offended. “I have no need for your body heat. I produce plenty on my own.”

  “Oh wow,” I said without thinking. Behind Fex I could barely make out what appeared to be a demon just outside the sounds of the wall of darkness. It seemed to be mostly snakelike and lay curled with its eye half open.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Look out behind you. Another demon. It doesn’t seem aggressive, though. We’re probably safe.”

  “Demon, eh?” he asked, looking back at it. “We have a number of names for them. Carapace is probably the closest to accurate.” He got up. “It’s about time I fess up. See you in Eden or Canada, whichever comes first.”

  “What are you going to tell them?”

  “Tell? I wish. I’m going with ‘I was attacked suddenly and accidentally forced to resort to my true form, and likewise accidentally killed hundreds of carapaces.’” He grimaced. “Wish me luck.”

  He walked away, and this time I saw him leave: it was with a swish of fire and a flash of light, and there was a chance he wasn’t really teleporting at all.

  THERE WASN’T a point to staying around once Fex had left, and I made my way back to Burlington. I was still feeling sore, but not quite tired enough to sleep. I could maybe go for a quick nap, but the ever impending wall of darkness made me feel much more rushed than I needed to be.

  I found another gun shop and chose a small handgun and packed some spare ammo for it in my bag. I also found a map, and once I sat down to plan out my route, I realized I had no idea where I was going.

  There was a good chance Fex had not realized Canada was a large country, and had sincerely thought it was a small area I could easily navigate toward. Intention, however, did not make it any easier to guess where I had to go. It was nearby, evidently, but that still left a lot of land. And what exactly was “nearby” to someone who could move at impossible speeds anyway?

  First thing I had to do was cross the border, no matter where my endpoint was. There was a road that crossed several islands on the way over the lake. From there I guess I’d head to Montreal? Fex had a habit of showing up every so often, and I was just hoping he’d show up again before I wandered too far off route.

  It was looking to be a long walk. There weren’t any angels at first, but they soon started to appear in swarms in the sky. Not just the regular angels and the Watchers, but all sorts of varieties. I started to see Ophanim again, twirling in the sky like ballroom dancers, as well as angels I hadn’t seen before—some human shaped, others animalistic, and many with multiple faces.

  They were not just in the air eventually, but everywhere: hiding in the underbrush and perching on street lamps.

  For a moment I almost thought the Eden Fex had spoken of was all of Canada, but brushed it off. Midori had to be in a specific spot, and finding Midori was what I was here for.

  I think, at least, that was why I was here. I probably had to save her.

  I just wasn’t feeling too motivated by the idea. I almost felt guilty to realize it, but I was much more excited about learning what was going to happen to her than stopping it. Of course, if it was something awful, I was going to step in and save her. It was, I realized, a matter of a power fantasy.

  Midori had left me helpless and alone. She was the valuable one, the one the angels had sought out and taken. And it was she who had the most problems with her life, and the fullest one. All that stuff about a new name and running away from home? It was awful, and no one would want to live it.

  Except me.

  Because this was also a matter of jealousy.

  And I had long lived and thought of the day of disaster, the day when I would earn the pity and attention I had often sought from everyone I met. And now, with two people left, I was the one who had to give pity. I was the one who had to be strong. When I was a child, my therapy after the fire had been normalcy. A forced moving-on meant to make my life feel normal again. But that was not what I needed. I didn’t want to be strong.

  And I wanted that to fall to someone else.

  But strength became my life. Leadership didn’t come naturally to me, but independence was what kept the therapists away and my new parents happy. So I began taking it upon myself to be strong. And that’s not supposed to be a bad thing—but it was for me. An error I knew about, and felt obliged to continue with.

  I used to dream of becoming ill. Not too ill, but almost ill. Cancer perhaps, but never terminal. I wanted to be sick enough to be sick, but never with the real risk of dying.

  I would have my head shaved, but hide it under a hat as I took the subway to the hospital. A stranger would make a comment—insulting me for my bald head, or perhaps just in shock of it. And I would smile weakly and explain I was sick, and the whole train car would feel for me.

  No one could be mean to me again. No one would make fun of me. They would all have to act better than that, because no one picks on an almost dying girl.

  And when I recovered, I would always keep it as a safe card, always as an excuse. Perhaps just a photo in my wallet, to let fall to the floor whenever I needed a little boost of sympathy.

  Days were like that. But nights were different. I would stare at my calendar in the light of my nightlight and look at the little boxes and Xs, and dream of days like these. Days of disasters and days of tragedy, and of days where I was a valuable person, a young survivor in a dark time, a ray of hope for all.

  And usually I’d try to sleep, but more often, I’d wait. I was disgusted with my thoughts, and I kept thinking over and over again: if the world ended tomorrow, I wouldn’t have to act like this. I would grow and I would age years each day, and every day would be an adventure. And I’d change into a better person every day.

  It’s odd how these things work.

  And when I saw Midori again, as helpless as she was, I wasn’t going to save her.

  Not right away, at least.

  Timing is 90 percent of heroics.

  21

  IT WAS two days later, in the morning, that I arrived in a city with a long French name—Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu. The route hadn’t seemed so long from the map, but it had ended up being a lot more than twelve hours of walking. I was probably slowed down by boredom in addition to my terrible sleep schedule.

  I had not been, however, delayed by angels or demons in the slightest. The angels around me were becoming more and more ubiquitous as I headed north, but even the land-based ones paid me no mind. If I ever got too close, they would simply move away.

  And as for demons, well, I didn’t see any. They always had been reclusive.

  Now all I needed to do was wait for Fex to show up. It really would have been convenient if he had left some sort of way to contact him. It wasn’t like I could seek him myself, unless I somehow stumbled my way into Eden.

  I took to the city streets and decided to just keep going. My best bet was to keep moving and waiting for something to happen.

  Nothing really did, and on an impulse, I ended up taking matters into my own hands. I had
passed an electronics shop, and again found myself going in and picking up a battery-powered radio.

  I sat on the hard tile of the shop, held the radio on my lap, and tuned.

  I found a lot of signals. I knew there was the very real chance, no matter how I felt about it, that I was hearing things again. But I also knew that the radio was on, and the voices coming out of it felt very real.

  But no one could live in a city of angels like this one. Outside they sat and floated and did whatever it was that they did, just existing. There were more than I had ever seen, all just waiting for something to happen.

  There’s no way this city could actually hold life. Besides, that would mean Fex was lying to me, and even if it was a foolish thing to do, I had more trust in him than that.

  But there were voices all right, and it seemed almost sensible to me that even if Angel Radio really had been in my mind, there was no way all these different channels were also my own invention. I couldn’t be that creative.

  I moved through frequencies slowly, catching bits of various sounds and words. Finally, I heard a familiar voice.

  “Well, well, well,” Emil was saying. “Well, well, well.”

  “Again, huh?” said Naomi.

  Were they mocking me? Or wait, was I mocking myself? This was dreadfully confusing.

  The signal had somehow locked itself down, and though I tried changing it, nothing happened.

  “I warned her about this a couple times now, and yet here we are. Again. Another denouncement.”

  “I swear, what is her problem? Ada wasn’t always like this.” Naomi sighed. “And now look at her. Sneaking around all the time. What a rat!”

  “I’d think you’d show her more concern. It’s been a lot longer than usual.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. She’ll show up again at our door one of these days, all beat up, crawling. You know, we have to work twice as hard without her.”

  “If you can call it that,” Emil said simply.

  “You know what I mean.”