Page 19
“At least three gunmen,” murmured Alex. The muscles in his forearms looked taut. “Christ, there’s a whole team of AKs out there. ”
“Can there be?” I said in a daze. “I thought you were the only one!”
“I don’t know – maybe the CIA set up another group down here without telling us, or maybe someone else figured out how to fight them—” Alex broke off, tapping the car roof as he watched the scene. “Jesus, why are you letting them go on the offensive?” he muttered to the unseen AKs. “They know you’re there, just shoot them already!”
As he spoke, one of the three angels twisted nimbly to the side, wings glinting. I went cold as it hit me: the AKs were shooting at the angels; they were shooting at them almost non-stop.
But they were missing.
I knew from Alex that everyone missed sometimes; an angel’s halo wasn’t an easy target, especially when they were in motion. You had to be accurate a lot more often than you weren’t, though. If you missed too many times, then what was going on right now happened: the angels realized you were there, and moved in for the kill.
Distantly, I saw another angel burst into nothingness at the opposite end of the square, but couldn’t take my eyes off the disaster that was unfolding here, near the stage. The three angels glided in a hunting pack, and now I could tell they’d spotted the gunmen below: there was a sudden decisiveness to their moves, a deadly certainty in the way they banked as one and started plunging downwards.
The AKs obviously saw it too. There was a flurry of motion in the crowd; a small group of people shoving their way through the throng, panic giving them strength. “Get away, hurry,” I whispered. My hands were clenched. The gunmen burst out of the other side of the square, and then went racing away down a busy road. They turned into what looked like an alleyway; the three angels headed after them, gliding with an ominous lack of haste.
Alex swore as he jumped off the car. “The idiots – why are they going for an enclosed space, where they can get backed against a wall? They’re all about to be killed. ” He yanked on his helmet.
I’d already slid off the car behind him and was grabbing for my own helmet. “Can we get through the crowd?” I asked, raising my voice over the sound of the next band that had just come on. The street was full of hundreds of pedestrians milling around, dancing to the music. Lots of them wore angel wings, feathery and surreal in the half-light.
“We’ve got to,” said Alex shortly. We straddled the bike and he revved it; at the sound of the engine, the people nearby gave way. He nudged the Shadow through as fast as he could, honking the horn. Finally we reached the main road and he opened up the accelerator with a roar. As we sped south, I could just see the flock of three, heading away over the buildings. Alex did too; he took off after them, weaving in and out of traffic. They vanished from view and he took an abrupt turn, and then another, sending us hurtling around corners.
The angels were nowhere in sight.
Suddenly I could feel which way we should go, throbbing through me with absolute conviction. “That way!” I shouted in Alex’s ear, pointing to a street off to the right. He took it, and soon we were barrelling down a long road that was mostly businesses, run-down and seedy. Behind a faded pink stucco house, the tips of the angels’ wings flashed in and out of view.
Alex screeched to a halt. In the sudden silence we could hear shouts. Bars covered the windows; a wrought-iron gate stood open, showing the drive. No lights – the place almost seemed abandoned, except for a white van. I felt Alex’s energy lift again, scanning quickly.
“All three of them are back there,” he muttered, flinging his helmet off.
I looked at the house. . . and the moment froze. My scalp prickled as the darkness of the barred windows reeled me in like a black hole. Something was going to happen here – something that would make both of us so unhappy.
I shook the idea away; it had to just be nerves or something. But the coldness remained, and as the frightened shouts rang through the night, they almost seemed to be coming from inside my own head, dreading whatever was to come.
Willow stood motionless, staring up at the house with wide eyes. “Come on!” said Alex. He grabbed her hand, and she seemed to return to herself with a start. They raced down the driveway as the shouts grew louder.
“Get away from me!” yelled someone. The words were in English; the voice sounded American. The faint thud of silenced gunfire came from nearby.
The drive ended. Alex pressed against the side of the house, deftly screwing on his own pistol’s silencer before peering around the back.
A chaos of scrambling bodies; three angels swooping about like giant moths to a flame. There were five AKs – two girls and three guys – and they were shouting, waving their guns around. The angels were toying with them, Alex saw grimly – laughing as they darted towards their opponents and then away again, biding their time before they ripped their life forces away.
They were in a concrete courtyard; there was a back door with a light over it, casting a circle of luminance like a bizarre stage set. A muscular blond guy stood in the spotlight’s centre, grasping a gun with both hands and swinging it wildly.
“Come on, cabrona!” he screamed at a female angel. “Come and get me!” His accent was pure Texan.
Alex saw the angel decide it had had enough of playing; it went high and then dove at the guy, screeching. Alex tracked the creature as it moved, aiming for the pure, bright blue at the centre of its halo. Even through his concentration, he was shaking his head. Tex was flailing about so frantically he’d be lucky not to blow one of his friends away.
“Oh god, one’s about to get that girl,” burst out Willow. With a smooth shiver her angel form appeared; her human body was still crouched at his side, eyes closed now as she concentrated.
“Willow, no,” he started. “Seriously, stay back—”
Her angel had already sped away, heading towards the cement wall that bordered the courtyard. Wings outspread, she swooped over a dark-haired girl with a sharp face, protecting her. The attacking angel drew back with a surprised hiss; the girl flinched and gaped upwards.
“I can’t just let it kill her!” said the human Willow at his side. “I’ll be okay. ” Alex gritted his teeth and tried not to worry. Willow’s life force was in her human body, not her angel one – but neither of them knew what might happen if her angel self got injured somehow.
The diving angel was still corkscrewing down, wings flashing. Aiming again, Alex shot; the creature seemed to sense him, dodging aside at the last moment. He shot again, anticipating the move this time, and the angel erupted into a million pieces of light. Tex gave a yelp as the shockwave blew him backwards, off his feet.
One down, two to go. Alex glanced again at the girl cowering by the wall. Above, Willow’s angel darted about like a shining bird as she held off the attacking female. The angel was beating its wings fiercely as it tried to get past her. Willow’s angel was smaller than average – only barely larger than her human form – but incredibly nimble in the air, like a kestrel.
“You!” Alex heard the female angel hiss. “Half-human thing—”
The remaining angel had been about to dive; overhearing, it twisted in the air, looking for Willow’s human form. Alex lifted his gun as it spotted her in the drive. It came at them in a rush of light; Alex shot and the creature veered away sharply. . . and then it soared off and disappeared over the back wall.