“What are you talking about? What’s wrong?”
She swallows hard, forcing herself to steady. “It’s Ashur,” she says. “He’s going to kill you.” Kill me? He’s an angel. Angels don’t kill people, do they? “I saw him leave the barbeque,” she continues after she’s gathered enough air. “I wanted to speak to him. Ask him about my mother. So I followed him, trying to get up the nerve. Then I noticed him heading for the woods. So I continued to follow him into a clearing. I watched him kneel in the clearing and call out to someone, I don’t know who. But then, another angel appeared and they began to talk.”
“What did they talk about?” Ethan asks.
She pauses to look behind her again, scanning the trees for signs of movement. When she is satisfied that no one is coming, she continues her story. “They were talking about a temple and someone called Sorath. They said heaven and earth were in danger. That’s when I heard the angel say to kill you.”
“Which angel?”
“The one talking to Ashur,” she says urgently. “He said you had become too much of a threat and that you would have to be slain to prevent disaster.”
Surely Ashur couldn’t agree to do that. Could he? “Ashur didn’t agree to it?” I ask to dispel my doubts.
“I don’t know,” Liv replies. “He didn’t say anything. And I was too scared to wait around any longer. I ran straight here to warn you.”
“Don’t worry,” Ethan says. “I’ll protect you.”
“Protect me,” I exclaim. “He’s an angel. He’ll kill you.”
An applauding sound comes from behind us, unnerving me. I turn to see Ben Shaker, the shop keeper. He’s standing by the lamp post behind us, clapping his hands in what seems like a mocking jest. “Bravo,” he says. “It’s about time the angels bare there real teeth. Always thinking they are above such evils. And yet they condemn us. So self-righteous. Don’t you think?” He steps toward Ethan. “And you the noble protector. I suppose you haven’t told her everything.” He gestures to me. “No, of course not. Wouldn’t want your secrets to get out.” He places his finger to his lips, wavering slightly on unsteady legs. “Tell me. Are you lying to protect her or afraid of what she would think if she really knew who you are?”
“What is he talking about?” I ask.
Ethan scowls at Ben. “Don’t listen to him. He’s probably just drunk.” He takes the frail old man by the arm to lead him away, but Ben takes a long dagger from under his coat and, before I can warn Ethan, he thrusts it into his chest. Ethan looks at him in bewilderment as Ben pulls the bloodstained dagger from his open wound. Ethan looks at me one last time and I see the life go out of his eyes. The old man pushes his limp body aside, allowing it to collapse to the floor. “That will slow you down,” he says, kicking the body over, revealing the wound in his chest.
Liv averts her eyes, burying her head in my shoulder. She’s crying with fear and it takes all of my will power not to do the same. “What are you going to do to us?”
Ben eyes us. “Nothing,” he says. “I only needed him.”
“We have to get out of here.” I whisper to Liv.
“What, leaving so soon?” Ben says. “And miss all the fun.” He smiles widely. “You don’t have to worry. Unlike these imposters,” he continues, nudging the body of Ethan with the side of his shoe. “I really will protect you.”
“Why would you protect me?”
“Because you are too important to the plan.”
“What plan?”
“The ultimate plan,” he answers. “The one hatched at the dawn, before man was…well…man.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course, you don’t. You’re just a pawn, but a very crucial one. That’s why I had to make the deal with the guardian’s of the temple, especially with foolish wanderings into the woods. They agreed to leave you alone for an exchange.”
Growls and whooping dog-like sounds interrupt us. Ben looks out into the edge of the woods and remarks, “Just in time to collect their dues.”
Liv begins to quake with terror. “It’s alright,” I reassure her. “They can’t get past the flames.”
Ben walks over to the pole, and taking the dagger in hand, begins to brush the blood on the pole, forming some sort of crude symbols. “You know you really should be thanking me,” he says as he continues to paint the post. “I saved your life.”
“At what cost,” I say, my voice quivering with contempt. “Ethan’s life for mine?”
“Oh no. Killing him would simply be a mercy. No, the cost for your protection was much larger than one man’s life. But that just shows how precious you are to me.”
He finishes his painting and steps back raising the dagger in the air. “Just as the blood of the holy, lights the eternal flame,” he says. “So does the blood of the accursed, extinguish it.” With those words he stabs the dagger in the pole in the middle of the glyph. As soon as he does, the lantern affixed to the top of the pole flickers and dies, leaving us with only the distant lights of the town and the faint illumination of the moon.
Ben turns to us and says, “The agreement we made was your safety in exchange for the lives of the townspeople.”
Behind us, the woods come alive with wild activity. The shadows move and the ground shifts as the clay figures emerge from the undergrowth. “We have to get out of here,” I say, taking Liv by the hand. She continues to stare in terror at the distorted figures that march from the woods. There are literally hundreds of them. I pull her along as I begin to run toward the town. As we pass, Ben laughs. “Don’t worry they won’t hurt you,” he calls out. “But I can’t say the same for your friend.” He begins to laugh with pleasure as the woods explode behind him with the jackal like forms of the clay men eager for their hunt.
Liv and I stumble down the road, looking for any refuge we can find. Despite the reassurance that I will not be harmed, I refuse to abandon Liv. Around us, screams begin to pour out from all areas of the town. It is as if the whole town is dying at once. The ground rumbles beneath us, alive with movement, and then explodes as earth and clay pour out, blocking our path. We turn down an alley as the sounds of crumpled concrete echo from behind us. We enter into a main street, as people are running scattered in various directions.
“We have to get to the church,” Liv says. “It’s the only safe place for us now.”
We run toward the center of town. Others seem to have the same impression, the look of hopeless fear in their eyes. To the sides of us, lines of moving earth shatter fence posts and topple trees. Then, with the ferocity of a leaping tiger, a mound of earth arcs through the air, landing on one of the townspeople as if to devour them, leaving behind only a vacant hole as the mound slips back into the earth. Liv screams at the sight. More mounds of dirt reach up from the earth grabbing two more people dragging them down.
We reach an intersection and stop. In every direction, the town is erupting as cars are thrown into houses and houses are toppled. There is nowhere to run. In the distance, a group of clay men turn and see us. They move toward us slow at first, but quickly gain speed as they reshape into wild dogs. I turn to run in the other direction, but a tree is thrown on its side in our path. I begin to contemplate which would be worse, dying or seeing Liv die in front of me. It’s then that I hear the horn sounding from a car. I turn to see a car with the Gregor’s sitting in the back and another man in the driver’s seat beckoning us in. It’s Mr. Hammond.
They swing open the passenger side doors. Sprinting to the car, we slide into the seats, Liv in the back with the Gregors, and me in the front. There is no time for explanation. The dogs pounce at the car, but Hammond accelerates away, knocking them to the ground. I look in the rear view mirror as the dogs quickly recover and begin their chase again.
“It’s lucky we found you when we did,” says Hammond as he jerks the wheel, nearly missing an overturned car. “I came to check in on you. I have to say, I never expected this.”
A relief comes over me now
that Hammond is here. Finally, someone I can trust. However, my relief is short lived as a mound of earth flies at the car, shattering the window and sending us into a spin. I scream as Hammond struggles to keep the car on the road. The tires shriek along asphalt, each tread finding a surface. The car is jerked back into line and continues down the road. We all breathe a sigh and almost feel elation as we see the church ahead of us. It’s only a few hundred yards away. Hammond punches the accelerator not waiting for another close call, but is greeted by another blow. This time from underneath.
The car is thrown end over end, landing on its roof, which compresses under the strain of impact. We are knocked about like rag dolls as glass dances about us. The car teeters forward and then settles into place. From my window, I can see the church steps. I release my restraint and fall from the seat. There are broken shards of metal and glass. I look in the back. Liv and Justine are dazed but otherwise okay. However, Jeff looks severely injured. Hammond is also unconscious. “We have to make a run for the church,” I say. Liv and Justine nod in agreement as they try to ease Jeff out of his seat without further injuring him.
I reach over to release Hammond’s restraint when a figure appears in the window. I quickly retract my hand. Staring at me is the figure of a large dog with ghostly red eyes. It curls its snout into a snarl and begins to snip at the air with loud gravelly barks.
“You promised not to harm me,” I say.
The dog eyes the car. It’s then that I notice others prowling around us. A familiar voice comes from the shadows. “Not you,” it hisses. “But them.”
“Why? They won’t hurt anyone.”
“They wish to call the master again,” the shadow replies. “They must not be allowed. We must stop them. But if you try to stop us, we will not hesitate to kill you as well.”
The dog strikes out; taking Hammonds shoulder in its teeth and dragging him from the car. I try to pull him against the strength of the dog but it is too much. I can hear Liv and Justine fighting against other dogs in the back. My hands give under the strain, no longer able to hold on and Hammond is ripped out of the car. I turn away not wanting to see what will come next. In that moment, I realize it would have been better if Ashur had killed me to spare the lives of those in town. Behind me, I can hear the struggle still going on. I cover my ears so I don’t have to hear and begin to sob.
Chapter 17
My heart pounds desperately in my chest. My eyes are closed and ears covered in some juvenile attempt of escape. I do not want to be here. But there is no way out. I think to scream out for help, but who would come. Ethan’s dead, Ashur has betrayed me and soon all the people I love will be gone. I am alone and my only wish is to die with them, but even that wish is beyond me.
The next thing I notice is something pulling at me. I open my eyes to see a hand; it pulls me from the car and onto my feet. I stand and look up to see Ashur. There are others surrounding the car wielding make-shift weapons of random objects. They must have come out of the church and scattered the dogs. Liv and Justine emerge from the car unharmed. “I hoped I would find you here,” he says. I notice a metal sign post in his hand.
Does he intend to kill me here? Now? Ashur looks at me and hesitates. Finally, he drops the weapon and takes me by the arm. “Come on,” he says. “We need to get you and the others to safety.”
Everyone runs up the steps to the church entrance. The pastor is there to greet us. “Hurry,” he says, urgently. “We must hurry.” With the help of Ashur we get the unconscious Hammond and carry him into the church. His jacket and shirt are ripped to shreds, but there doesn’t seem to be any damage to his shoulder where the dog attacked him. This seems strange, but in our haste I disregard it.
It is dark inside, with only the lanterns to illuminate the interior. There are a few hundred townspeople scattered about. Many are wounded and being treated with the little amount of supplies that exist in the church. For so many people, it is uncomfortably quiet. Outside, it sounds like a storm with the occasional bang. Yet the church seems to hold with only a few creaking’s of complaint. I find it curious that the clay men haven’t broken out the windows, but then I remember the real reason for our safety. The lamps flicker softly, almost peacefully. The question is, how long will the protection last, and when will the chaos flood back in.
Justine and Liv are sitting at the side of Jeff who is lying across one of the pews. I sit with a blanket around me, a man who I assume is a doctor or nurse is asking me questions. “I’m fine,” I say for the fourth time, rather impatiently. He dabs a wound on my head with gauze and instructs me to apply pressure to it, and then goes on to the next case. I hug the blanket closer, but it isn’t as warm and comforting as the shroud that Ashur gave me the night we met.
I see him cross the room, moving between the people, carrying a cup of something that looks warm. He sits down next to me without a word. I glance over to Jeff. “Is he okay?” I ask.
“The doctor says he might have a fractured neck,” Ashur replies. “The best thing now is to leave him still until we can get an emergency crew in.”
“What about Liv’s father?”
Ashur shakes his head solemnly. “No one’s seen him.” There is a pause in our conversation. I can’t even imagine what Liv is feeling right now. And yet as I look over at her, she is comforting Justine. But that is the way it is with her type. They ignore their troubles and focus on everyone else until there is nothing of them left. My foster sister was the same way. Eventually, they fade away. Just another headline of a dead girl.
“How long will the lamps burn?” I ask.
“For eternity.”
“So they can’t get in.”
Ashur nods his head. However, his expression is not hopeful.
“But we can’t get out.”
Another creaking noise sounds from above. “They’ve buried us in,” he says somberly. “They intend to wait us out.”
“This is all my fault,” I exclaim.
Ashur puts his hand on my shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. I give him no acknowledgement of comfort. Instead, I stiffen. He seems to notice. “I know about your conversation.”
Fear flickers in Ashur’s eyes. I have never seen fear with him. Sorrow, concern, but never fear. “What conversation?” he asks as if he does not know.
“Cut the act,” I say, angrily. “I know that you were told to kill me.”
“I can explain,” he says, stumbling over his words.
“You don’t have to,” I say, cutting him off shortly. “Just answer me one question. Would you have done it?” But that’s not the question I want answered. I want to know where his loyalty lies.
He looks at me, hesitantly, and I have my answer. I get up to leave, but he tries to stop me. I pull away, leaving the blanket behind. “Just stop,” I say, abruptly. “Just leave me alone.”
I storm off, though I have no idea where to go. It’s then that the pastor stops me. “Are you okay,” he says in a tender voice.
“I just need some place to go,” I say. “Some place to think things over.”
“I’m afraid there aren’t too many places here,” he says with a reassuring smile that seems forced under the circumstances. “Perhaps I can get you some soup. It’s not much, but at least it’s comforting. Something we can all use right now.”
I accept his offer and we sit down together at a make shift table. The soup is tasteless, but I eat anyway just as a means to pass the time. The pastor sits watching me; he doesn’t eat.
“By the way,” the pastor starts, “your friend Hammond is fine. He is resting for now, recovering his strength.”
Angel Realms Page 20