Angel Fever (12 page)

T
HE LAST TIME
A
LEX HAD
made his way across the New Mexico desert, he’d been driving a stolen car: a boatlike thing from the eighties that had bucked and shivered across the sandy soil. He’d spent the entire journey expecting the thing to overheat – that, and being seriously distracted by Willow. They hadn’t so much as kissed at that point; the physical tension between them had been almost painful. He could still see exactly how she’d looked as she’d asked him a question about the camp: her green eyes large, her blonde hair tied in an untidy knot at the back of her neck.

He wondered if she’d ever forgive him.

He pushed all thoughts of her away harshly.
Maybe Cully was delusional,
he thought as the 4 × 4 trundled over unmarked desert.
But if this
is
true, there’s got to be at least a chance I’ll survive – or I wouldn’t even be doing it.

He’d made the journey in good time, given the state of some of the roads. Only about thirty hours had passed since he’d left – and now, advancing through the desert, Alex could make out the place where he’d grown up: a cluster of white cement buildings wavering in the morning sun, with low mountains rising on the horizon behind them.

Nearing the chain-link fence with its razor coils flashing at the top, he did a quick scan. No sign of life. He could have figured that out anyway: one of the gates sagged limply on its hinges, with no vehicles in sight. As the sun burned down on the silent white buildings, Alex stopped the truck, eyes narrowing as he studied them. He took out his rifle just in case, swung the backpack over one shoulder, and got out.

Small brown lizards scuttled away as he walked to the gate. He squeezed through the gap and the chain link rattled. Another memory: Willow standing at this gate, fingers hooked loosely around a metal diamond as she looked back with that pixieish smile.
I’d just really like to see where you grew up.

Do
not
think about her again.

Though it was late November, the heat streamed down as Alex crossed the enclosure. It was the only thing that still felt familiar. The camp’s unnatural silence weighed on him as he made his way past the mess hall and the dorm he and his brother had shared with a dozen other AKs.

Ahead lay the plain, square house where his father – and then later Cully – had lived. A grey roof, no shutters or frills. When he was little, he thought all houses looked like this. The first time he saw homes with door knockers and welcome mats, he hadn’t been able to stop staring.

Alex reached the door and scanned again, just to make sure. Nothing. The knob was sun-warm to the touch; it didn’t give when he tried to turn it.

Feeling as if he were desecrating a tomb, Alex stepped back and pressed the rifle against his shoulder. A short burst of gunfire and rapid holes appeared, obliterating the lock. He kicked the door, and it swung open.

He stepped in and groped for the light switch out of habit, but nothing happened, of course; the generators weren’t on. Then he stopped short. In the semi-gloom he could see an angel staring at him – dark, burning eyes, its giant wings outspread. Adrenalin gripped him until he realized what it was.

Oh Christ, Cully,
he thought sadly.

The walls were covered with drawings of angels.

They crowded every available space – watching, beckoning to him. Alex turned and found another on the back of the door; bullet holes scorched through its wing. He traced his hand over it. Cully had drawn each feather individually.

What hit him most was the utter loneliness of the place. Cully, probably sick already by then, alone out here in the desert, drawing the beautiful creatures that had destroyed him. Alex dropped his hand. “I’m glad you’re dead, Cull,” he said in a low voice. “You’re free now.”

Enough. He had to do what he’d come for. Alex crossed to the table and propped his rifle against the worn wood. With a glance at the rickety chairs, he remembered how his father would angle one sideways and sit hunched for hours, glaring as he tried to bore his way through the ether with his consciousness.

Imagining himself doing the same, Alex grimaced. He crouched on his haunches instead and studied the air in front of him. What he’d told Willow hadn’t been a complete lie: Martin’s idea to defeat the angels did have to do with using a world’s energy field.

Just not the one in this world.

Alex moved his awareness up through his chakras and kept it poised, hovering outside of himself. As he viewed the room from the ethereal level, his pulse skipped.

He straightened in a daze as he stared. Jesus. Cully had nearly done it all right. Where there had once been nothing, there was now a slight wavering in the air facing him, like rippling water.

Relief and dread rushed through Alex. He mentally reached out and explored the wavering. It felt like a section of flimsy paper in the midst of solid plaster. Cully must have been so damn weak, to have come this close and then stopped.

Alex let out a breath. Okay, so…it was true, then. Instinctively, he knew what had to come next.

Slowly,
he cautioned himself.

He focused his awareness as tightly as possible, until it was needle-thin. The sensation brought a rush of light-headedness; he ignored it. Tracing the needle carefully over the shimmering wall, back and forth, he found a tiny section that gave more than the rest. He pushed at it, but the wall felt elastic; the needle pressed harmlessly.

Fine – let’s try this another way,
he thought after a frustrating few minutes. He drew back and stabbed hard.

His awareness pierced the wall. Suddenly it felt like a hurricane was shaking the tiny needle. He gritted his teeth, hanging on for dear life.
Do it now or get out,
he told himself.

He steadied himself – and began to make the needle larger.

Muscles trembling, Alex sank to the ground, eyes closed as he strained. He could sense the pinpoint growing to the size of a tennis ball…a car tyre. With his fists clenched on his thighs, he felt a sudden release of resistance that sent him sprawling to the floor.

Breathing hard, he slowly rose again, groping at the table for support as he stared. There was a hole in the air. Through it, he could see another room. A plain white wall. Where the opening ended, so did Alex’s view of the room; the outer wall was still seamlessly covered with angels.

Blood pounded at his brain. The two realities danced before him. He’d actually done it.

But so far he’d only manipulated energy on the ethereal level – for his father’s plan to work, he had to be physically over there. And when something tangible passed through that hole… Alex’s own voice came back to him:
It’d be suicide. Can you even imagine the burst of energy if he tried it? This whole place would blow sky-high.

Alex’s gaze flickered again to the walls around him. Cully must have thought surviving this was at least possible – but, Jesus, here Alex was, surrounded by hundreds of staring angel eyes. Had this place really been the work of a sane man?

He straightened his spine. Enough of this crap. This was what he’d come for, wasn’t it? Millions of angels were feeding on humanity and would go on doing it for ever unless something stopped them – everything else paled in comparison. Everything. Even his own life.

Keeping his eyes on the opening, Alex picked up his backpack and put it on. His pistol was in the holster under his trousers; he reached for the rifle and hooked it over his shoulder, ducking his head under the strap.

Then he looked down at the woven bracelet on his wrist – and unable to stop himself, touched it briefly, remembering the night Willow had given it to him: the smell of her hair, the feel of her in his arms.

He let his hand fall. He shoved the table away with a single harsh screech and backed up to the opposite wall, facing the opening. The other room still waited. Alex squared his shoulders, not taking his eyes from it.

“Okay, let’s do it,” he muttered.

“There!” I said, sitting up straight and pointing.

It was just like I remembered: white buildings clustered in the desert. And oh, thank god: Alex’s grey 4 × 4 was parked outside the gate. I let out a breath as we drew closer, rumbling over the rough terrain. Too relieved to smile, I closed my eyes to feel what Alex was feeling – and gasped as his heightened emotions slammed into me.

“No,” I whispered, gripping the dashboard. “
Sam! Stop!
”

Sam screeched to a halt. Before he’d completely stopped, I flung open the door and scrambled out, running as hard as I could.
Alex, you can’t go through with whatever this is – please, you won’t survive it—

As my feet beat over the sandy ground I could feel the coolness of tears on my face. Everything had slid into slow motion: a hawk circling above, the gate ahead of me as it grew larger.

“Alex!” I screamed. “
Alex!
”

Alex stood poised, his gaze fixed on the opening. Now that the time had come, he felt only an intense determination, all other thought banished. The angels watched from the walls as the strange room sat cloaked in shadow.

Now,
he thought, and started to run.

He threw himself into the air at the last possible moment, meeting the opening head-on – and as he did, he thought he heard someone call his name.

The impact was like slamming into concrete.

The explosion screamed through him as the world erupted. The route between worlds vanished. Angels were shattering into pieces, flying up into the blue sky. Alex was falling, floating, being ripped apart.

Pain…oh Jesus, the pain.

Willow
…
I’m sorry,
he thought.

It was the last thing he knew.

T
HE GROUND TREMBLED UNDER
my feet as the entire centre of the camp exploded. With a roar that shook the earth, buildings went up in a wild fountain of flame, cement, and smoke, brilliant against the blue sky.

“
No!
” I screamed.

I’d been sensing Alex’s rapid heartbeat – his near-certainty that he’d die. Now, for a brief, endless flash, his agony crushed me. Blown apart, wrenched into pieces –
so much pain—

His heart gave a last weak beat…and then stopped.

Emptiness.

Before I could take it in, a wall of air slammed into me. I was knocked flat on my back, gasping for breath – dimly aware of rubble falling all around, thumping into the sand.

Muscular arms pinned me in place. “Keep down!” Sam yelled in my ear.

“Let go!” I cried, struggling wildly. “Let
go
of me!”

Somehow I got away and was running again, sprinting as fast as I could. It had all taken only seconds; now a terrible, chilly silence lay over everything. Debris lay scattered across the desert. A billowing cloud of dust and smoke rose from the camp.

The gate was half flattened, mowed down by flying shards of concrete. I scrambled over the barbed wire and lunged across the chain-link diamonds with a clatter.

“Alex!” I shouted as I ran into the enclosure. “
Alex!
”

Dust hit me, so thick I could barely see. Eyes streaming, I kept going, stumbling over the rubble-strewn pavement to the ruined centre of the camp, a scorched crater filled with debris and dust. Smoke drifted up into the sky.

Alex’s father’s house was gone. So were half a dozen buildings around it.

He could still be alive,
I thought frantically, dropping into the hole. After the earthquakes, some of our AKs had survived for
days
trapped in collapsed buildings. Falling to my knees, I saw what looked like part of an angel’s wing drawn on a chunk of concrete – I barely noticed it as I hefted it aside, and then the piece after that, and another.

“Alex!” I called. “Please, answer me!”

As I dug, I scanned desperately. His energy always came so quickly – as if our love were an arrow leading me straight to him. Now there was nothing. I kept scanning, shaking so hard I could barely think.

Nothing. And I’d known that already…because I’d felt him die.

My mind flinched from the knowledge. “
Alex!
” I yelled again, still digging feverishly, bloodying my fingers against the dusty shards of concrete.

Slow footsteps came from behind me – the sound of someone dropping down into the crater. Then I felt Sam’s hand, warm and heavy on my shoulder.

His voice was ragged. “It’s no use, darlin’.”

“It is – it is!”

Sam crouched next to me. His eyes were red-rimmed. “Willow. Do a scan. The only ones still alive here are us.”

I shook my head hard, not even pausing as I dug. “No. No. You’re doing it wrong. He’s alive – he has to be.”

Then I saw it. My throat thickened, words leaving me. The piece of concrete I was holding slipped from my fingers, landing with a dull scraping noise. In a daze, I stretched across the wreckage to pick up what I’d seen.

Alex’s shoe.

A small moan escaped me as I turned it over in my hands – realized distantly that I was trembling. A battered once-white sneaker, now covered in dust and a streak of blood. I’d seen him put it on just yesterday, leaning over as he sat on the bed, his dark hair falling across his forehead.

An ice pick stabbed at my temples. The sense of being blown apart – his warm life-energy coming to an end. Oh god, I’d actually
felt
it.

I’d felt it.

“
No!
” The word tore painfully from my throat. I clutched the shoe to myself, hunching over it as I began to rock.

Without speaking, Sam pulled me into his arms. I dropped the shoe and clutched blindly at him, gripping his T-shirt – my hands like claws as I started to sob against his chest, my body heaving.

“I know,” he choked out, his strong arms tightening around me. “I know.”

After a long time, Sam helped me up and got us both back to the truck.

“What was he even doing?” I whispered hoarsely, staring at the remains of the camp. The smoke had all dispersed now and the dust had settled, as if the ruins had lain undisturbed for centuries.

In the driver’s seat, Sam scraped a hand over his jaw. I could sense he was trying to keep control. “Aw, hell, I don’t know.” His voice broke. “From what you said, something to do with using the earth’s energy field.”

I was still holding Alex’s shoe, my nails gouging into the leather. “Yes, but
what
? I wouldn’t have thought that was even possible!”

“I guess it wasn’t,” Sam said flatly.

I stared at the shattered buildings. When I spoke again, my voice was thin. “We can’t just…leave him here.”

Sam rubbed his forehead, looking forty-three instead of twenty-three. “There may not – be much left,” he said dully. “Anyway, it’d take us weeks to sift through all that. Unless…”

I shook my head woodenly. There was nothing left of Alex’s essence to latch onto.

Sam took a breath. “You know, this is…not really a bad place for him to be. He loved it here, growing up. He told me. And I think his father and brother are buried nearby.”

Any moment I’d wake up and find Alex in bed next to me, pulling me into his arms – his warm lips nuzzling at my neck. I shut my eyes hard. “Yeah, they are,” I said finally.

Inside, I was screaming – wordless, anguished screams, over and over. Alex was only
nineteen.
We were supposed to have a whole long life together. It wasn’t supposed to be that, instead, he’d felt forced to take some insane risk that he’d lied to me about.

Suddenly, I was shaking. What had it been? What had Alex thought was
this
important? Without thinking, I grounded myself and reached out for the earth’s energy field. The chaotic power roared over me as I tried to grasp hold. My angel was huddled deep inside me, stunned with grief; I felt her struggle feebly as the ethereal storm battered at us.

“Willow?” said Sam.

The force was whistling past, yanking at my aura – threatening to rip it away.
Alex, what was it? Please, I’ve got to know!

“Willow!” Sam was shaking me. “Get out of it!”

With a gasp, my connection with the energy field broke. When I opened my eyes again, my cheeks were freshly damp. “I don’t know what he was doing,” I whispered brokenly. “I don’t know how to – to fix it.”

Sam was glaring at me, his eyes still red. “Christ, if
that
wasn’t a damn-fool thing to do! You think we want to lose you, too?”

I didn’t answer. Whatever Alex’s father’s plan had been, it was gone.

So was Alex.

I saw again the angels, invading our world and becoming unlinked. Alex, putting on a brave face, despite thinking it was his fault. None of this would have happened otherwise – he’d still be alive now.

The thoughts hammered relentlessly at my skull. “I’m going to Denver,” I said.

Sam turned his head and stared at me. “What for?” he asked after a pause, sounding wary.

“Because I have to find Raziel.”

“Willow, please start making some sense pretty damn quick, ’cause you’re freaking me out.”

My knuckles were white against Alex’s shoe. “This is all Raziel’s fault. He’s the one who unlinked the angels, the one who destroyed the Council and caused the earthquakes. Sam, don’t you see? It’s all
him
– everything bad that happens is
him.
”

“Yeah, that’s probably true,” Sam said harshly. “So what are you gonna do? March into his Eden and demand an apology?”

“No. I’m going to make sure he never does it again.”

Sam straightened and pulled the keys out of his jeans pocket. “You’re in shock,” he said shortly. “I’m gettin’ you home.”

All at once my voice was ringing through the cab. “
What
home? I am serious, Sam – I cannot just go back and do nothing! Alex is
dead
!
Dead,
don’t you get it?”

“
Yes, I get it!
” he bellowed back. “What
you
don’t get is that it would be goddamn suicide!”

“I am going to Denver,” I said. “You can come, or not – I don’t care.”

Sam gripped my arms hard. “Listen to me,” he growled. “If you want to go runnin’ off to Denver, fine; I can’t stop you. But you would be putting the entire team in danger, and probably killing yourself in the bargain. Do you think that’s what Alex would want? Do you think he’s watching from somewhere right now, sayin’,
Yeah, go get him, Willow!
”

Something snapped in me. “I don’t care what he’d want!” I screamed. “I can’t just do nothing!”

The truck was suffocating me. Somehow I got the door open and collapsed out onto the desert ground. I wrapped my arms over my head as I struggled to breathe, and felt some small part of my mind try to detach itself from this pain – from the low, keening noise I was making; the way I was rocking in place, fingernails clutching my scalp, lungs clenched tight.

Alex.

Sam came and kneeled beside me. I felt his rough hand rest on my head. “I’ll tell you what you’re gonna do,” he said. “Just what Alex said – keep on recruiting and training people. That’s the only hope humanity’s got now. We need you, Willow. You can run off and get yourself killed, but it won’t accomplish a goddamn thing.”

Eventually I managed to sit up, trembling. Sam gripped my hand, his blue eyes intense. “Alex loved you,” he said in a low voice. “He never thought you were a quitter.”

I couldn’t speak. All I wanted was to confront my father – blow his halo into nothing and hope he felt just a fraction of the pain that Alex had felt, that I was feeling.

But I knew Sam was right. And as I gazed at the ruins where Alex lay, something inside me hardened. I would fight the angels until the day I died, if that’s what it took.

“I’m not a quitter,” I said finally.

Sam put his arm around me; I leaned against his broad chest. He held me silently for a few moments, then kissed my head. “Come on, angel chick,” he whispered. “There’s nothing more we can do here.”

We got back into the truck, and Sam started the engine. I felt as if I were made of glass – one wrong move, and I’d break. As Sam glanced back at the wreckage, his face was set in stone.

“Goodbye, bud,” he murmured. “Hope to hell it was worth it.”

I couldn’t say goodbye to Alex. Not now, not ever. But I turned and watched the shattered remains of the camp grow smaller in the rear window, along with the sun sparkling off Alex’s truck.

I watched until long after they’d vanished, and the only things still visible were the low mountains on the horizon, etched against the sky.