Into The Light (The Fallen Shadows)

by Rebecca R. Cohen

  He slinked toward them in a tiptoed fashion and had it not been for the crunching sound of dried flowers he would have been able to sneak right up to them.

  “Hello Ash,” Chance said without turning around. Once again he placed his hands behind his back and recommitted his gaze onto the statue. “It would seem you had a bit of a run in with Hartley today.”

  Davon, who had spun around at the sound of the crackling flower, stood facing Ash with his arms wedged inside one of the many pockets on his pants. Ash noticed that his partner was dressed in battle gear and realized that Chance had summoned him to go on a run.

  “I would hardly call it a run in,” Ash replied throwing himself on the bench overlooking the rest of the garden. The seat was firm and painful as his body thrust against the back posts. “It was more of a mere exchanging of words.”

  Chance was growing wary of Ash’s laid back attitude and the way he brushed aside the consequences of his actions. He was immature and rebellious and were it not for his father Chance would have thrown Ash into Purgatory when he betrayed his garrison. It wasn’t easy for Chance to concede to anything, especially when it came to protecting the garrison.

  “Call it what you want but sooner or later this wild behavior has to stop.” Chance finally turned to face his obnoxious Guide. He wore a grimace that Ash hadn’t seen very often and it concerned him.

  “Why have you summoned me here? I assume we’re going on a run.” Ash threw his arms behind his head and rested on them as if they were his nighttime pillows.

  “You are correct. We got a hunch that the Descended are gathering somewhere on the east coast, around the Philadelphia area. We can’t be sure that the doorway is there but we need you and Davon to go and investigate,” Chance explained, handing a piece of incandescent paper to Davon. Ash recognized the paper as orders for the Transporter. They were sworn not to take any of the Guides out of the garrison unless given orders by one of the elders.

  Ash jumped up from the bench and reached into his back pocket pulling out a very small knife. He flipped it around the way a cheerleader would wave her baton. The blade flew through the air glistening each time the celestial sun bounced its rays off the steel blade. “Well, let’s go then.”

  Davon looked at Chance who nodded in approval. He brushed past Ash nearly shoving him as he passed. He rolled his eyes as Ash gave him a remarkably irritating smile. Davon hated how Ash always seemed to find joy out of every situation.

  Ever since Davon became the only Guide willing to work with Ash he’d wondered if there wasn’t something more to Ash, something he didn’t want the rest of the Guides to see. He’d often ask Chance, who would meet his inquiries with a belly laugh that claimed Ash’s innocence but was never entirely convincing.

  Ash moved to follow Davon out of the garden but before he reached the entryway into the Anchorage, Chance caught him by his biceps and pulled him in close. His eyes were full of fear and concern the way a father would look at his child before sending him off to war. “Keep your eyes open and be careful. This isn’t any ordinary run.”

  He released Ash but the Guide didn’t move. Chance’s words were like cold ice coursing through his veins. None of the runs he’d gone on in the past were the same, but why was this one different enough that Chance had to make a note of it to him? He opened his mouth to ask what was going on but Davon came rushing back in the garden, as he had grown impatient waiting for Ash to catch up.

  “Let’s go!” Davon shouted. His hands were pressed up against the doorframes and the front portion of his body was leaning into the garden while his lower half remained inside the Anchorage.

  Philadelphia was as historic as any of the cities Ash had ever been too. The buildings were remarkable and some of the more gothic buildings reminded him of the Anchorage. The entire city looked as if it had been taken from the early 1900s and transported to the modern world without warning. Tall steel structures grazed the tips of clouds and hugged the streets below.

  People rushed about on the sidewalks crossing one another like some rushed version of an interpretive dance as cars flew by as if their drivers knew the world was in constant danger from creatures they had only seen in their nightmares. The sun sat high in the sky but had become complete blocked by the massive buildings creating a permanent darkness hovering over the city.

  As Ash and Davon made their way to the city’s less reputable areas an odor reached the tips of his nose and traveled straight through to his mouth. He tasted iron, the taste of blood. He gave Davon an insightful look, they both nodded acknowledging the familiar smell, and they knew the Descended weren’t far.

  Davon led the way with his sword fully extended in front of him, a bag full of golden arrows and his golden bow strapped to his back. The tips of the arrows seemed to sparkle as bits of the sun snuck through the umbrella of spectacular buildings. Ash crept behind him with his bow placed tightly in his hand and the arrow placed strategically between the front and back end of the bow, ready to fly at the flick of his fingers.

  They were approaching a small gothic abandoned building that looked as if it had been burned It was nestled between two red brick apartment buildings and was so small it barely reached the second story fire escapes winding down the side of the apartment buildings.

  The front door was hanging on by a few rusted nails though it remained shut. The windows had been busted out and the glass shards decorated the front pathway like icicles decorating a snow-covered street. The exterior of the building was a mixture of brown and red rusting pipes and wood all nailed together by century old nails. The smell of iron increased as they approached the front walkway.

  Using his finger as a method of communication, Davon signaled for them to move forward toward the door leading into the building. He ran quietly like a cat stalking a mouse toward the doorway followed by Ash wielding his bow and arrow tightly in his hand. Davon pushed the door just barely as it creaked open.

  The squeaks of the door that badly needed to be oiled, echoed throughout the building sending crows scattering into the rafters. Their flight sent clouds of dust flying through the air making it difficult to see.

  The Guides coughed and choked from the dust as they gazed around the empty building. The room in which they stood had broken tables and chairs throughout the room. There were bits and pieces of napkins, broken shards of glass from coffee mugs and a wooden counter broken into pieces and spread about.

  Resting on the back wall was a large electric sign that had lost its power but read, “Elle’s Café.” The building was an abandoned café that once sold the world’s best cheesesteaks, or so the one plaque that remained hung on the wall claimed. However, the odor inside smelled like anything but a café. The stench of garbage that had been sitting out in the sun for days ran through the boys’ noses causing them to gag and choke. This must have been abandoned years ago Ash assumed.

  In the midst of all the rubble and dust a bright light bellowed out of one of the backrooms. . Ash nodded in the direction of the light. Davon acknowledged and signaled for them to head toward the light room. Upon their approach they could hear the voices of the Descended come through the thin walls. Their voices were low and spoken in more of a growl than any recognizable language.

  The Guides inched toward the door, both clutching their golden bows and arrows tightly, ready to release their devastating blow at any moment.

  Ash approached the door and placed his hand on it intending to push it open gently when a voice chanted behind them.

  “Davon, Ash how nice of you to pay me a visit.” It was a woman’s voice, a voice both Guides recognized.

  “Serena,” Davon said spinning around, arrow still ready to fly no matter who the target might be. “I thought you’d been cast into Purgatory.”

  Ash turned to face Serena, the first of the Descended. Since she was cast out Ash hadn’t seen her and when he did he expected her to be as grotesque as the rest of her kind. Much to his surprise she was the same beautiful angel
she was before she was cast out. Her hair was golden, her face flawless and full of life and her eyes, albeit a hazy shade of grey, still seemed to sparkle despite the lack of light. There was nothing grotesque about her.

  “Surprised by my girlish figure?” Serena slid her hand up and down her body the way Vanna White would as she showed off some fabulous prize for Jeopardy contestants. “It was a surprise to me too. When I was brutally cast out for my sins I thought I would turn into some gruesome, terrifying creature, but I guess luck smiled on me that day. After all what was my crime, really?”

  Serena shot a devastating look at Ash who remained in battle formation. She began to move toward them. She appeared almost to be gliding across the floor. Her long black silk dress just barely touched the floor. Her hair was pulled up into a bun of vibrant curls all being held together by silver sticks.

  She looked as if she had a blue glow around her as she placed herself in between the Guides. “If anyone should have been cast out it should have been Rafael. He was the angel, the hierarchy whereas I was a mere Transporter. So why should I have been punished and not him? Why do the girls always get screwed in the end?” She was speaking straight to Ash, referring to his affair with Angelina and her devastating memory loss.

  When it came to references to Angelina, Ash had little patience, especially if the references came out of the mouths of the Descended. He drew back on his bow seconds away from releasing the arrow that would send Serena straight to Purgatory when Davon swiftly placed his hand on Ash’s bow and lowered it gently. He shook his head and waved his finger in a back and forth motion. Ash was shocked and confused by his partner’s apparent lapse of judgment.

  Serena laughed, the sound of pure bliss, which made Ash enraged. He raised his bow again only this time he rushed Serena. The point of the arrow was only inches from Serena’s face, an interaction that would have had any of the Descended quivering in their grotesque bodies but not Serena. She remained calm with a self-satisfied smile planted upon her face.

  “Ash!” Davon yelled running to his partner. “Don’t.”

  “Why? She’s one of them and its our duty to send them to Purgatory, so that’s what I intend on doing.” Ash kept his eyes locked on Serena and the arrow nearly touching the tip of her nose.

  Davon moved slowly afraid that any sudden movements might force Ash to release the arrow before he could do anything to stop him.

  “We still don’t know where the doorway is and if they find it before The Tracker’s ascension we’re as good as dead,” Davon said, calmly placing his hand once again on the bow.

  He remained there while Ash glared at Serena with violence on his mind. Davon was patient, as he knew that eventually his partner would understand that they needed Serena. As though the bow were released from some invisible string holding it up he lowered it abruptly.

  “That’s a good doggie,” Serena said derisively.

  Davon rushed her placing his sword against her throat. His free hand wrapped around the back of her head leaning her into the blade nicking her skin. “We might not be able to send you to Purgatory yet but I have no problem taking your head off until you decide to wipe that smug look off your face.”

  She was not afraid and didn’t believe a word Davon said and to prove it she thrust her neck deeper into the blade. Blood trickled down the ends of the blade, blood that ran red not yellow as the Descended’s blood ran. Davon drew back in surprise looking to Ash who was equally as confused.

  Serena, proud of her authority over them, wiped the blood off her neck with her fingers and seductively licked her index finger clean. The remaining blood stains on her hand she held out for the Guides to see. “Strange isn’t it? Descended blood is meant to be more yellow and a bit more oozy, I guess I’m not as vile as your elders thought.”

  Serena brushed past Davon and Ash as if they posed no threat to her and made her way to the door where the voices of the Descended had suddenly stopped. She pushed open the door releasing over twenty of the grotesque creatures that the Guides had become so used to fighting. They formed a tight circle around the stunned Guides, who both wielded their bows and arrows as a means of protection.

  The Descended stood with their shoulders touching, blocking any view Ash and Davon had of Serena who was still inside the room where the Descended came from.

  “Something isn’t sitting right with me,” Serena said though Davon and Ash could not see where her voice was coming from. “If your Tracker hasn’t ascended yet, how did you know we were here? Somehow I doubt even the great Chance hasn’t come up with a way for the Guides to be able to track us down.”

  “You think our Trackers are our only connection to the Descended world?” Ash chuckled. Davon shot him a look. If Serena knew that the Anchorage had humans, true believers in God and in the angels, working for them and keeping an eye on things when they couldn’t, she would hunt them all down. Ash wouldn’t tell her their secret but he wasn’t going to let her have the last word either.

  Serena emerged from behind two of the tallest of the Descended. She pushed them aside using her shoulders as leverage. They moved slightly to allow her to step between them. She looked at one of them and winked playfully. There was something in the way it looked back at her with respect and unexplainable fear.

  “She’s controlling them.” Ash whispered so quietly that Davon could barely understand what he’d said. She strode up to Ash with her hands placed suspiciously behind her back. He could tell she was holding something but couldn’t determine what it was. He saw something glistening as she drew closer.

  “You know, even when I was among you I found your system quite flawed. With everything you think you knew about Heaven, Hell and Purgatory your elders failed to give you one piece of vital information,” she placed herself a few inches in front of both Guides and began to slowly move her hands from behind her back revealing what she was hiding. It was wide silver blade with a large slit running down the length of the steel. It was curved slightly at the top creating a modest hook with all the sharpness of the rest of the blade.

  The handle, which sat firmly in Serena’s hand, was a translucent white color with golden twine; Ash recognized it as twine from the Anchorage’s west garden. It was a blade he’d only seen hanging in the pictures lining the walls of the Anchorage – the angel blade.

  “I bet no one ever told you that it was real and that I had stolen it before I was cast out.” She ran her fingers gently along the edge of the blade without so much as causing a scratch.

  Davon and Ash fell eerily silent and their faces turned a pale white. Their entire existence they were told that the angel blade was just a myth, something the archangel Michael made up to keep the rest of the angels in line, a blade that could kill any creature of heavenly descent, including an angel.

  “Chance told me it was just a story,” Davon said, repeating the statement three times, as if it would make it true. He was completely bewildered by what Serena held in her hand, it was the one weapon that could truly kill them. He lowered his weapon and stared directly in front of him, without locking his gaze on anything or anyone in particular.

  “As I said, your entire system is flawed,” Serena said whipping the blade back and forth between her hands. She was taunting them in order to weaken them before she made her move.

  “Well I would love to stand here and chat but I have a doorway to find. So what do you say we get this party started?”

  She glanced over at the large Descended whom she’d winked at moments early and nodded slightly. Before Ash and Davon knew what was happening the circle of Descended were on top of them.

  The smaller of them came at them first, lunging and snarling as best they could. Davon, quick with his hands, loaded and reloaded his bow and released the golden arrows into the Descended bodies. The arrows flew the way an airplane would soar through a cloudless sky. They approached their targets with such ease and pierced the distorted skin like a needle through a ball of yarn.

  Ash
was equally as quick with his load and release and took out the remainder of the smaller Descended. As the arrows sunk their force into the bodies of the former angels they turned bright red and in a flash of blinding light they disappeared, masking their permanent journey to Purgatory.

  Serena had propped herself up on the countertop with her legs crossed and the blade resting across her lap. She watched with sheer pleasure as the larger group of Descended rushed Ash and Davon. Two of the larger creatures, the ones who allowed Serena to calmly walk through their tight circle, took Ash head on. The others covered Davon like a swarm of bees covering a bed of roses at the height of summer. Ash watched as Davon disappeared into a sea of Descended.

  The largest creature took a swing at the back of Ash’s head with his tightly clenched fist, the blow landed hard and heavy on Ash. It knocked him down forcing him to land with all of his weight on his knees.

  The second of the larger Descended began slamming his knee into Ash’s side, cracking his ribs. The pain seared through his body and he winced from the stinging sensations traveling from his ribs and down through his legs. The Descended who were laying in on him exchanged glances and wild chuckles, pleased with what they were accomplishing. While they were distracted Ash was able to reach into his pocket and pull out a small knife. It was more of a pocketknife than a legitimate weapon but it would do the trick.

  Ash took the knife and jammed it into the toe of the Descended that had been causing the bruising on his ribs. The creature screamed in pain and grabbed his injured foot. He hopped on one foot clasping the injured one in his hand. He landed in line with his partner in crime, bumping into him with a mighty force.

  With the proper distraction, Ash shuffled to his feet and pulled an arrow from his near empty bag and placed the golden feathers on the thin bar of the bow, placing the sharp tip of the arrow on the twine from the garden. He pulled back and released sending the golden weapon straight through the abdomens of the Descended who had been on top of him only seconds earlier.