Текст книги "Angel Fever"

Автор книги: L. A. Weatherly

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

5

SOMEHOW THEY WERE DRIVING AGAIN – still heading towards Denver so that they wouldn’t pass the cruising army truck again too soon. It was as much thought as Alex was capable of right then.

“Not linked,” he murmured at last. He gripped the wheel with clammy fingers. “Are you sure?”

Willow sat statue-still. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I felt it when the energy rushed past. It’s something Raziel’s done on purpose, to protect them. He used the energy of the gate opening to…to sever their connection, somehow. I think some of them died when he did it. I could hear them screaming.”

She crossed her arms tightly. “Anyway, they’re safe now,” she went on, her voice wooden. “We can still kill any one of them, but to destroy them all, we’d have to—”

“Kill them one by one,” Alex finished. He saw a dirt road and took it; once out of sight, he brought them to a lurching halt. The world was battering at his skull. He clutched at his temples, squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit—”

He felt Willow slip her arm around his waist and press close. “Alex…” she whispered.

No other words followed. What could she say? There were millions of angels in the world, with millions more just arrived. Even with more AKs, to kill the creatures singly could take generations. Humanity would be destroyed by then; the angels would have moved on to leech off some other world.

God, why hadn’t he attacked sooner? He’d been so positive he was right – but what if he’d done what Sam had wanted instead? They could have forgotten about recruiting new people and only picked off angels that were hunting solo. They might have done it that way.

They really might have done it.

Slowly, Alex scraped his hands down his face. Through the windshield was a piercing blue sky. The dirt road sliced through a grassy field, heading up into the mountains.

Willow took one of his hands and pressed it against her chest. “Alex, please don’t blame yourself! It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah? Whose fault is it?”

“No one’s!” Her tone was pleading. “Fate. Life. You’re an amazing leader. And if you had it to do over again, you’d make the same choice, you know you would.”

He’d never been less interested in hypotheticals. He’d screwed up – end of story. And, yeah, big comfort to know that if he had it to do over again, he’d still screw up.

A long pause wrapped around them. There was the sound of birdsong and the faint ticking of the engine. “Should we call the others?” Willow suggested finally.

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose and didn’t answer for a minute. “I can’t tell them this over the phone, Willow,” he said in a low voice. “I just can’t.”

He hated the sympathy in her green eyes. Softly, she said, “All right, but we need to let them know we’re okay, at least. And that the next Wave has arrived.”

“We will, but just—” He broke off and gripped her hand, not looking at her. “Just give me a minute.”

How the hell was he supposed to tell the base this when they got back? Exactly what combination of words could he use to break the news to his team that their efforts had been for nothing and the world was doomed now…and all because they’d trusted him?

After calling in, all Alex wanted to do was get away from this place – head for home and get the announcement over with. Willow shook her head. “We need to get some rest first.” He could see her own pained shock, her worry for him. “Neither of us has slept in over a day, Alex.”

He started to argue; the thought of crashing the truck with Willow in it stopped him. He’d made enough cataclysmic mistakes already. He pulled the truck farther up the road, concealing them in a grove of trees.

Though he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep, a bone-aching weariness claimed him once they’d spread out their sleeping bag in the back. He stripped down to his boxers and crawled thankfully into its soft haven, where he drifted off with Willow nestled against him.

He awoke abruptly several hours later, unsure where he was. Then it came back in relentless detail. The truck’s windows were misty with condensation; he reached over and wiped one clean. Moonlit fields and a clear starlit sky. No sign of flying angels – those who weren’t staying nearby must have already moved on. Or were in their human forms now, merging seamlessly with the rest of the population.

Except for their eyes. You could always tell an angel by its eyes.

Alex took in the peaceful landscape, seeing instead a country full of Edens – a world full of them, for ever, because of what he’d done. Willow was curled asleep against his chest; he absently rubbed her shoulder as his thoughts pummelled him.

But was there a chance Willow had been wrong?

His hand stilled and stopped. His heart quickened despite itself. Not that he actually believed it – Willow was an excellent psychic. But come on, wasn’t it at least possible? Okay, so maybe the odds were only one in a million…yet that still meant there was a slim hope this wasn’t true.

And if there was any hope at all, he had to know.

Alex hit the display button on the sat phone. Almost midnight. The newly opened Golden Eden was about five miles away – he could jog there, check things out, and be back by two.

Just having a plan was a relief. Alex eased his arm out from under Willow – she murmured and turned to her side. With a hasty groping in the darkness, he found his clothes and rifle. He slithered out of the sleeping bag and climbed silently to the front of the truck. He squeezed open the door.

Cool night air sent goosebumps across his chest. Alex got out and guided the door shut behind him, pressing it hard so it would latch. He yanked on his jeans and T-shirt, then crouched down quickly to tie his sneakers. As he checked his rifle, moonlight glinted on the barrel.

He could just see Willow through the window he’d wiped clear. He knew she’d be fine – no one would venture up this remote road after dark – yet for a second he found his fingers resting on the door handle. But there could be no debate, none – he had to find out, and the sooner he left, the sooner he’d be back. He let his hand drop and turned away.

When he was far enough away down the dirt road, he broke into a run.

Alex had been to Golden before: a small town high in the Rockies where tanned, perfect people shopped at specialty grocery stores. Now it had been made into an Eden to deal with the Denver overflow and a concrete wall girded it, with fresh barbed wire glinting at its top. As Alex approached from the hills, he could see new housing had been thrown up, nestling among the ten-million-dollar homes like poor relations.

Lights were still on, even at this hour – people were savouring having electricity again. Alex grimaced; many of the lights were blue and flickering. Raziel had a depressingly firm grasp of American psychology all right: offer them TV, and they’d come.

Finding a good spot was harder than he’d imagined; he was acutely aware of time ticking past and of Willow left back in the truck. Finally he settled on a hill to the north near what looked like a service entrance. He could see the dark shapes of army trucks just inside the gates.

Not many angels were out, but enough. Lying on his stomach, Alex held his rifle to his shoulder and forced himself to be patient as the creatures swooped across his crosshairs. For at least a quarter of an hour, none gave him what he needed.

Then his chance came.

A small cluster appeared, circling together. Alex began tracking them closely. “C’mon, c’mon,” he whispered, his muscles relaxed even if his mind wasn’t. “You can’t stick together all night…”

As if overhearing, one angel peeled away from the other two; in the magnified lens, Alex could see the fiercely beautiful male face. He followed the angel as it started to dive, focusing only on the halo’s pure white centre. Not yet…not yet…now!

The crosshairs exploded into light. As white fragments twisted in the moonlight, Alex jerked his head away from the lens and looked for the other two. There they were, still close by. Ordinarily, an angel would feel another’s death intensely – react at once.

The angels kept gliding away, great wings calmly stirring at the air.

Alex lay without moving as he stared after them. It was true then. He hadn’t really believed otherwise. But now, faced with proof, for a second he wanted to just go berserk and start gunning down every angel he saw, whether it gave away his position or not.

Get a grip, Kylar, he ordered himself coldly. Dragging himself to a sitting position, Alex watched the angels still flying over the town like they owned it.

Okay, so this was it – the new reality they all had to deal with. And somehow he still had to lead his team, though he didn’t even know any more where he could lead them to…or why. Alex got to his feet wearily, hardly caring if security cameras spotted him.

“Stay down!” hissed a voice.

Alex’s head snapped towards it – and then in a burst of light, he was knocked off his feet; around him ethereal blades of grass flattened as energy howled past. He rose up on his elbows and stared dumbly at the gleaming remains of an angel.

Willow appeared through the trees, silenced pistol in hand. She dropped to her knees beside him. “It almost got you,” she said. Her knuckles on her pistol were stark white in the moonlight. “We’re too close for me to bring out my angel, so I had to…” She stopped, swallowed. After a pause, she added, “You forgot to change your aura.”

Words had left him. “Good shot,” he got out finally.

I had a good teacher, she always responded. This time she just stared at him, and he realized how upset she was. “Alex, you—”

A noise came from the nearby parking lot. “Wait,” whispered Alex, putting his hand on Willow’s arm. Someone was walking their way. “Get down,” he muttered, and pulled Willow to the ground next to him, both of them flat on the grass.

The footsteps grew louder. The sound of a vehicle door opening. “Yeah, there you are,” said a voice. “Knew I’d left you in here.”

The door slammed shut. Alex craned a hand out for his rifle, which he’d dropped with the blast. He brought it silently across the grass towards him.

A small flare of light illuminated a man in an army uniform. The soldier strolled to the gate and leaned against it as he smoked a cigarette: a dark, lounging shadow with a red glow at its head.

The guy seemed to be staring right at them. Willow was hardly breathing. Silently, she adjusted her grip on her pistol – and at that moment, the moon came out from behind a wraith of clouds; silvery light flashed briefly on the weapon.

Alex’s heart sank as the shadow straightened. “Who’s there?” barked the soldier.

“Don’t move unless I tell you,” murmured Alex, the words not even a whisper. Willow gave a minute nod; he could feel her tension.

The soldier stood gazing intently. Suddenly he turned and walked away. Alex didn’t have a chance to relax before he heard the truck door open again; a second later the guy was back. A click – and then Alex winced as a beam of light illuminated them as if they were onstage.

Shit. “Run,” he ordered, grabbing Willow’s arm; as they scrambled to their feet he heard a voice say, “No way, it can’t be her—”

The whir of the gate opening, the thud of their own footsteps as they lunged into the trees. “Where’s the truck?” Alex gasped, ducking the black shapes of branches as they ran. Willow had to have brought it; she couldn’t have caught up with him so quickly otherwise.

Her answer came in short, choppy bursts. “About half a mile away – I didn’t know there was a road right here – it’s as close as I thought I could get when I sensed you—”

Light swept over them, sending their running shadows into the trees ahead. “Stop!” bellowed a voice; Alex could hear feet pummelling the ground. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

He won’t do it; they want to take Willow alive, thought Alex grimly.

Willow had kept up with him at first but was now lagging slightly behind. Alex dropped his pace to match hers, heard the soldier gaining on them.

“Keep going,” he said, pushing Willow ahead of him. “Do not pay attention to what’s happening to me; just go, go!”

Without waiting for her response, he spun to face the guy, lifting his rifle in the same second. He scattered the ground in front of the running soldier with a spray of bullets that spat at the earth, throwing up rapid clods of dirt. The man swore and stopped. The world burst into brightness as he trained the light directly on Alex.

Alex didn’t move, still holding his rifle at the ready. He couldn’t see the soldier in the glare but could hear his breathing. Up ahead, he was aware that Willow must have stopped too; he couldn’t hear her running any more. Damn it!

“Drop your weapon and get the hell out of here,” Alex ordered in a low voice.

“No way,” said the guy curtly. “Neither of you are going anywhere – just give up now.”

“Why, so we can be turned over to the angels?” retorted Alex. “Yeah, that sounds really appealing.”

The soldier started forward; Alex sent a muffled volley of bullets through the air, slicing them back and forth. The man jerked to a halt.

“I can’t see you very well with that light on me,” said Alex coldly. “But I’d estimate that was about a foot over your head. Want me to lower my aim and try again?”

The voice was hard. “Believe me, you’re just making things worse—” The soldier broke off with a cry; the light jerked in his grasp. Willow’s angel had appeared in her most tangible form, diving straight at his face. The night plunged into darkness as the soldier dropped the flashlight; its beam bounced on the ground.

“Come on, hurry!” called Willow’s human voice from ahead.

Alex backed away a step, still aiming his rifle as Willow’s angel darted about the man, striving for his pistol. The guy kept trying to get a fix on her but couldn’t; her gleaming wings were batting at him, forcing him back. If he shoots her – if he hurts her in any way—

Willow appeared, panting, at Alex’s side; she grabbed his hand. “Now! She’ll catch up later!”

He hated it but knew it was their only chance. They took off again, tearing through the black night hand in hand, the moon swallowed up by the trees. Willow’s feet were drumming out a rhythmic beat; she stumbled briefly on a root, and Alex steadied her, neither of them stopping.

“It’s not much farther,” gasped out Willow. She motioned ahead. “Just up this way a little more; there’s a road. I think maybe we’ll be able to—”

Behind them came a rapid burst of gunfire.

Willow broke off; with an anguished cry, she staggered and sank to her knees. Alex crouched hastily beside her; she was moaning, clutching her head with both hands.

“You’re okay…you’re going to be okay,” he said, rubbing her wrists and hoping fervently it was true. Willow’s angel could shift between the ethereal level and a more physical form – this was the first time the latter had been shot. He had no idea what it might do to the human Willow.

Already, running footsteps were heading their way again, the light jouncing through the trees. Alex grabbed Willow’s pistol, then got her to her feet. She sagged against him; he could see her paleness even in the gloom. Before he could lift her into his arms, the soldier burst from the trees.

Whether by design or not, this time he held his light at an angle, so that Alex could see him now. He frowned as he took in Willow, drooping in the circle of Alex’s arm.

“What’s the deal with her?” he demanded.

“The deal is you made a big mistake when you hurt her,” said Alex in a low voice. “Drop your weapon, or I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

The guy scowled and took a step forward; it all happened in seconds. Willow’s angel appeared right behind him – her eyes were stunned and fixed on Willow, clearly thinking only of merging. As she passed, the soldier cursed and swung to face her, aiming his pistol.

No. He would not hurt Willow again. Without thinking, Alex raised Willow’s pistol; the guy whirled back towards him. Both weapons went off at the same time: one muffled, one echoing through the night.

It felt like a car had slammed into him. Someone cried out; he realized it had been him. Oh Christ, his arm. The pain tore at him; the world dimmed at its edges. Gritting his teeth, Alex somehow managed to stay conscious and upright, still holding Willow.

The soldier lay in a crumpled heap nearby. Alex stared blankly at him…and gradually became aware of warmth and moisture. Looking down, he saw the dark blood streaming from a hole in his bicep and understood distantly that he had to stop it. He half fell to his knees, managing to rest Willow on the ground, and then pulled off his T-shirt, the motion slow and clumsy with one hand. He felt very tired suddenly – the task ahead seemed enormous.

His right arm wouldn’t lift on its own. Holding the edge of his T-shirt with his teeth, Alex got the cloth wrapped around the wound, almost passing out again as it pressed against the bullet’s exit hole – the thing had gone right through him. Slowly, with teeth and his good hand, he secured the makeshift bandage.

He slumped against a tree, breathing hard, the bark pricking at his bare back. They had to get moving. He had to get Willow, and they had to get to the truck…they had to…

The next thing he knew, Willow was leaning over him, shaking him. Her voice sounded high, frightened. “Alex! Alex, please wake up – they’re searching the woods.”

He focused on her with an effort. At first her words made no sense; all he remembered was trying to keep her safe. “Are you okay?” he whispered. Distantly, he could hear shouts.

“I’m fine – it just knocked me out.” She grasped his good arm and pulled; he saw dazedly that she was close to tears. “Come on, sweetheart, please. We have to go.”

A dark fallen form lay nearby. Memory sliced through Alex’s weariness. The shots – he’d been hit. Using the tree for leverage, he heaved himself up as Willow supported his good arm.

“Oh god, you’ve lost so much blood…” She fumbled quickly at his bandage, tying it tighter.

Alex gritted his teeth at the renewed pressure; he jerked his head at the soldier. “Is he—?”

“Yes,” she said shortly. The shouts were closer now;Alex could see lights heading towards them through the trees. Willow glanced over her shoulder. “Alex, come on.”

The stillness of the human form gouged at him. He gripped Willow’s hand, and they took off jogging through the trees. Every step felt like his arm was being sledgehammered, but the pain helped clear his head.

“Who’s searching?” he panted. “Angels?”

“No, just soldiers; they must have heard the gunfire – Oh, thank god!” They’d come out onto a hill bisected by a two-lane road; the 4 × 4 sat hidden in the shadows on the shoulder.

Willow unlocked it and threw the passenger door open, her face tightening as she turned to him. “Here, get in.”

Yeah, Alex thought with grim humour, this probably wasn’t his night to drive. He climbed in, breathing hard and dropping his head back. Willow sprinted around the truck and got into the driver’s seat.

“Good, we’re on a slope,” she muttered. She put the truck in neutral; obediently, it began rolling forward as she steered it onto the road. They glided through the night, slowly picking up speed; after a few minutes, Willow twisted the key in the ignition and slammed down on the accelerator.

“Hold on,” she said. “Alex, just hold on.”

At first he thought she meant hold on because she was driving fast; then he felt the wetness on his fingers and realized that blood had soaked through the T-shirt and was coursing down his arm, warming his skin. “I’m fine,” he murmured, closing his eyes. Weirdly enough, it seemed true. He felt warm, drifting.

Sometime later, the truck’s lulling motion turned to a harsh lurching. Alex opened his eyes reluctantly; the headlights showed another dirt road. Willow jerked them to a stop. Turning on the cab light, she lunged into the back of the truck and pulled out the first-aid kit.

She rooted frantically through it. “What do we have, what do we have…?” Alex watched her, still feeling oddly disconnected. There was blood from his arm on her hands.

He smiled. “You should just use what you’re wearing,” he murmured.

Though she didn’t answer, he could tell she knew what he was talking about: the time she’d been shot herself, and he’d taken off his T-shirt to bind her wound.

Relief sagged her shoulders as she pulled out a large square packet. “This says it’s for binding wounds.” She straddled him on the passenger’s seat.

Alex tried to grin. “Hey, this is getting better and better.”

Willow was close to tears. “Shut up, please just shut up! Oh god, it went right through your arm…” She stretched away to fumble in the first-aid kit again and came back with a brown plastic bottle. “Okay, this is going to hurt.”

She eased off his T-shirt bandage and poured liquid over his arm. He gave a yelp as fire sizzled through him. The clarity was immediate, throbbing with pain. “What the hell is that?”

“Hydrogen peroxide,” said Willow. She doused his wound again; Alex clenched his jaw hard. The pain was like someone gouging knives in his raw skin.

“You just poured peroxide on my arm?” he said when he could speak again. Twisting his head, he saw the liquid bubbling and frothing. “Jesus – I thought you loved me.”

“It’s all I could find,” she said shortly as she tore open the white packet. “And it’s better than getting your arm infected.”

He wasn’t sure about that but didn’t argue. Willow wrapped the bandage around his arm; it was some kind of high-tech netting that stopped the bleeding in its tracks. Then she carefully strapped the whole thing in place with surgical gauze.

“I think that’ll hold,” she said at last. “At least it’s stopped the bleeding.”

Alex reached for her hand, squeezing it. “It’s fine. Thank you.”

“The only painkiller I saw was Tylenol,” said Willow after a pause, her voice stilted. “Do you want a couple?”

Alex shook his head, gazing at the delicate angles of her face. “You know, I can never get over how beautiful you are,” he said.

Her eyes were bright with tears again. “Alex, you—” She stopped short. Reaching up, she snapped off the cab’s light, then lay down beside him, circling his waist with her arm.

The sudden dark was a caress. Pain still beating through him, Alex stroked Willow’s hair, feeling it glide softly past his fingers. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I had to see for myself.”

“I know,” she said against his chest. “When I woke up, I just knew right away where you’d gone. I didn’t need to be psychic for that.”

Outside the truck, Alex saw pine trees crowding the dirt road: an old logging route, probably. He wondered when the next time might be that someone would come logging here again.

Maybe never.

“Anyway, it’s true,” he said, staring out at the prickly, moonlit branches. “They’re not linked any more.”

Willow’s arm tightened around him. “I know,” she repeated. “But, Alex, you can’t just…” She raised herself up to look at him, and Alex’s heart clenched at her expression, clear in the silvery light.

Letting out a trembling breath, she touched his cheek. “I love you more than life, Alex Kylar. Do you hear me? More than life. You do not go off and put yourself into danger like that without even telling me.”

He hadn’t thought it was possible to feel worse than he already did. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just—”

“What if I hadn’t been able to sense where you were?” she interrupted fiercely. “We are a team, okay? Now, more than ever, we are a—”

Abruptly, she gave a sob, and Alex clutched her to him, awkward and one armed. He could feel her shoulders trembling; her effort to keep control. “When I came to and saw you there, all covered in blood…” she choked out. “Alex, I thought I’d lost you.”

“You haven’t lost me,” he whispered into her hair. He rocked her, ignoring the pain that shot through his arm. “I’m here…I’m right here.”

Finally she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. Her voice hoarse, she said, “Promise me that you’ll never go off like that again – that if you’re going to be in danger, you’ll tell me. Promise. I have to know.”

“I promise,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t believe, now, that he’d actually left Willow alone in the truck. He touched her face, gently stroking away a stray tear. He almost felt like crying himself. “Willow – oh Christ, I’m so sorry.”

She nodded, her shoulders relaxing a little. “Okay,” she said at last, squeezing his hand. “Okay.”

They sat silently holding each other. Finally Willow sighed and shifted back to the driver’s side. “I can hardly even believe what this is going to mean for humanity,” she said at last, almost to herself. “It’s too terrible to…

to fathom it, somehow.”

“Yeah, tell me,” said Alex to the ceiling.

Willow glanced at him, her green eyes sorrowful. Then, with a turn of her wrist, the truck burst into life again. Soon they were back on the highway, speeding through the Rockies with the moonlight gleaming down, the road unfurling ahead like a dark ribbon.

Somewhere in the hills around Golden, the soldier had probably been found by now. With luck, his death would be blamed on the bandits who sometimes broke into Edens to steal supplies. Alex closed his eyes as he saw again the dark, still figure.

The guy’s only crime had been to do his job, and Alex had shot him – he was a “killer” in more ways than one now. He wondered whether the soldier had had a wife. Or kids, maybe, who’d have to grow up without their father now.

Neither Alex nor Willow spoke as the miles passed. Alex’s wound pulsed incessantly under its bandage. He was almost glad for the pain.