Angelfall

Until now, no one, certainly not me, believed there was even a chance at fighting back. We thought the war was over. Obi and his resistance fighters have now shown us that it’s just begi

I never thought about it before, but I’m proud to be human. We’re ever so flawed. We’re frail, confused, violent, and we struggle with so many issues. But all in all, I’m proud to be a Daughter of Man.

CHAPTER 46

The sky glows with a blend of bloody red and soot black. The bruised light gives a surreal glow to the charred city. The soldiers have stopped shooting, although they continue to scan the skies as if expecting to see an army of demons bearing down on us. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of machine-gun fire echoes down the streets.

We continue to weave through dead cars. The people in our truck talk excitedly in hushed voices. They’re so pumped up, they each sound ready to take on an entire legion of angels all by themselves.

They still stay as much on their side of the truck as possible. It’s a good thing they’re so excited and happy; otherwise, I’m afraid they might just burn us all at the stake. In between the chatter, they keep glancing our way. It’s hard to say whether it’s my mother in her speaking-in-tongues prayer trance, or my sister with her disturbing stitches and vacant stare, or the dead body that is me that keeps them glancing our way.

The pain is fading. It’s starting to feel more like I was hit with an economy car ru

The streets have turned desolate and empty of people. We are out of the aerie district and in the demolished zone. Miles of burnt-out car husks and wrecked buildings flow by. The wind whips my hair around my face as we drive through the charred and broken skeleton of our world.

We occasionally stop, blending in with the other dead cars. At one point, Obi shushes us, and we hold our breath, hoping nothing finds us. I assume angels have been spotted above and we are camouflaging ourselves.

Just when I think it’s all over, someone in the back shouts, “Look out!”

He points above him. Everyone looks up.

Against the wounded sky, a lone angel circles above us.

No, not an angel.

Light glints off curved metal on the edge of his wing. The shape of the wings are not shaped like a bird’s wings. It’s a giant bat-wing shape.

My heart speeds up with my need to shout out to him. Could it be?

He circles overhead, each pass spiraling him down closer. The spirals are wide and slow, almost reluctant.

To me, it’s a non-threatening look at our truck. But to the others, especially in their adrenalin-fueled state, it’s an enemy attack.

They heft up their rifles and point them up at the sky.

I want to shout for them to stop. I want to tell them they’re not all out to get us. I want to slam into them and mess up their aim. But all I can do is watch as they point and shoot into the air.

The lazy circles turn into evasive maneuvers. He is close enough for me to see that he has dark hair, and now that he’s doing more than gliding, the way he moves seems awkward. As though he’s just learning to fly with his wings.

It’s Raffe. He’s alive.

And he’s flying!

I want to jump up and down, waving and yelling up to him. I want to cheer him on. My heart soars with him even as it is gripped with fear that he’ll fall out of the sky.

The soldiers are not expert enough with their rifles to hit a moving target from that distance. Raffe flies away without injury.

My face muscles twitch a tiny bit in response to my i

CHAPTER 47

It takes another hour before I thaw out completely. All the while, my mother clenches her hands and prays desperately over my body in the low guttural sounds that is her speaking-in-tongues. They are her unique perversions of words that are undoubtedly disturbing to hear, but she chants them in a cadence that’s somehow lulling at the same time. Leave it to Mom to be simultaneously frightening and soothing, as only an insane mother can be.

I know I’m getting my body back but I just lie there until I can sit up. I start to occasionally blink and breathe normally long before I sit up, but no one notices. Between my sister’s stitched and automaton-like presence at my feet, and my mother’s non-stop prayers over my head, I suppose my still body is the least interesting thing to look at.

The day is dawning.

I never realized what a triumph it was to simply be alive. My sister is with us. Raffe is flying. Everything else is secondary.

And for now, that is enough.

~

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A very special thanks goes out to my terrific editor, Gryphon, whose commitment to the book inspired me. Thanks also to my awesome beta readers Nyla, Jessica, Eric, Adrian Khactu, and Travis Heerma

And of course, a heartfelt thanks to Aaron, whose artistic nurturing and encouragement helped me find the way.