Lesser Gods (53 page)

Yes, I could levitate him.

But I didn’t.

I killed my own son. Do you have any idea what that feels like?

Mr. Simms looked up at me. “Hurry, Adrian! We can get out of here together.”

I stared silently down at his face.

When I was little, every day was pain. They did things to me. They hurt me.

Mr. Simms shouted, “Adrian! We don’t have time! We’re all pulling out as soon as the Lancers make their kill.”

You see? Cathy is an Angel through and through.

Something snapped inside. Call it anger, frustration, grief, hatred... If I hadn’t just lost my chance to bring Cat back from the Angels, I might have been in a more forgiving mood. I might have taken pity on Mr. Simms, wounded and alone in this dark tunnel. I might have helped him, as undeserving as he was. But after all that I had just witnessed today, and all that had happened during and after the time I spent in the basement of Father Lestor’s house...

Some wounds run too deep to heal, and I can no more help being what I am than you can help being what you are.

“Come on, Adrian!” said Mr. Simms. “Lift me up! Save me and you can still be a hero.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Simms,” I said quietly, taking a step back, “but I am no hero, and I think you’re beyond saving.”

“What the hell are you talking about? It’s just a broken leg, damn it!”

“I’m talking about how you once led the Sky Guardians to rape and burn a six-year-old girl.”

“What? Sky Guardians?” sputtered Mr. Simms. “You’re talking about Slayers at a time like this?! You know what the Slayers are like! We saved you from them!”

“And I’m grateful for that, Mr. Simms,” I said evenly. “But it’s true, isn’t it? You killed Grace.”

“This is a war, Adrian!” Mr. Simms shouted furiously. “A goddamn war! When I led the Sky Guardians against the Slayers, we always killed the children! If we didn’t, they’d grow up and we’d have to kill them anyway! Better to put them out of their misery while they’re young.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Simms,” I said, pointing my right index finger at him.

His eyes fixed on the tip of my finger, Mr. Simms asked in shock, “You’re serious?!”

I didn’t reply, my concentration focused on the telekinetic blast I was readying.

Mr. Simms said quietly, “I told you once before, Adrian, that pity is a poor excuse to go to war.”

“Nevertheless,” I replied, looking down into his bloodshot eyes, “war is where I am, and it is not you that I pity.”

I released my blast, putting a hole through Mr. Simms’s right elbow. The Sky Guardian howled in pain.

“You’re not coming back with us, Mr. Simms,” I said over his curses. “You’re not going to crawl your way out of this one. You’re drained and underground. Not even the Angels will find you here. I hope you die slowly. Very slowly.”

I turned and ran. Mr. Simms roared out my name once, and then was silent.

Flashlight in hand, I reached the end of the tunnel easily enough. But when I tried the steel door at the top of the stairs, I found it locked.

I could still hear gunfire and an occasional explosion, but that didn’t stop me from pounding my fists on the door and calling for help at the top of my lungs. “Open the door! Someone open this door!”

Suddenly a female voice shouted from the other side, “Identify yourself!”

“Adrian!” I shouted. “I mean Hansel! It’s me! Let me out!”

I heard a click. The door opened, and I found myself looking into the face of Ms. Jodie Decker.

“I thought you were dead!” we exclaimed at the same time.

Stepping through the doorway, I said, “I thought you were with Mr. Simms.”

“We got separated, Hansel,” said Ms. Decker. “Did you see him? Did you see Swoop in the tunnel?”

I hesitated for but a microsecond before I answered, “Yes. There’s a bunch of Ravens down in the tunnel. But they’re all dead. Mr. Simms too. And Jack F.”

“Cookie ordered a general retreat,” said Ms. Decker. “I don’t know if we have time to collect the bodies. How far down are they?”

“Far,” I said, “and I think there’re some Angels coming through this way.”

“Alright, forget it, Hansel,” said Ms. Decker, locking the door.

And that was it for the last Sky Guardian, or so I thought at the time.

“Where’s Alia and Laila?” I asked. “Where’s Terry?”

Ms. Decker shook her head. “I’m not sure. I saw Rabbit a moment ago, but most of the witnesses and VIPs are already gone. I’ll get you out myself.”

“I’ve got to go check our room!”

“No!” said Ms. Decker. “You’ve got to get going right now! We’re pulling out!”

Ms. Decker tried to grab my hand, but I sidestepped her and sprinted down the corridor. There were other Knights running in both directions, but no one stopped me. In less than five seconds, I was through the main factory entrance and running toward the Guardians’ motorhome barrier.

The air reeked of CS gas, but it wasn’t concentrated enough here to slow me down. As I levitated myself over the barrier, I saw what Ms. Decker had been talking about. Most of the cars behind the motorhomes were gone. Cindy’s sedan was gone too, but Laila’s small camper was still parked. I sprinted up to it and banged on the door, but there was no answer.

“Adrian!”

Turning toward the voice, I saw Terry rushing up to me. Her clothes were covered in what appeared to be dried blood, and she had several long scars on her right arm, but otherwise she looked okay. Alia had done her job well.

Steadying her breath, Terry asked hesitantly, “Did you find your sister?”

“Yes, but she’s not coming,” I said quickly.

Terry nodded. “At least you made it back alive.”

“Just barely,” I replied. “Where is everyone?”

“Retreating, of course!” said Terry. “The Lancers said they couldn’t find you on the far side of the factory. I’m not sure, but I think they killed the queen!”

“I mean where are Alia and Laila?!”

“Alia’s already gone. I got one of the Lancers to drive her out in Cindy’s car. I had to hit her pretty hard, though. She refused to leave without you.”

“And Laila?” I asked anxiously.

“I’m not sure,” said Terry, shaking her head. “I didn’t see her after my fight. I think she already left too.”

“Her camper’s still here!”

“Her camper’s too slow, Adrian! We’re ditching all the motorhomes. Come on, we’re running out of cars.”

“I’m not leaving till I’m sure, Terry!”

“I thought you’d say that,” said Terry, and then pointed her hook toward the factory building. “Look over there.”

I turned my head. The next instant, there was a blinding flash of light behind my eyes, and then everything went dark.

Chapter 18: The Dawn of a New Age

Cat’s eighth birthday party ended without any major injuries, and we sent the last of the kids home by 6pm. I helped Dad clean up the living room while Mom tackled the kitchen, conscripting Cat to assist her with the dishes.

“Tired, Adrian?” asked Dad as I listlessly picked up scraps of wrapping paper from the floor.

I smiled weakly. “Let’s stop having birthdays at home.”

Dad nodded. “Agreed. Next time we’ll rent a tar pit or something.”

We laughed, and then Dad said, “Thanks for being such a good sport today, Adrian. I never thought a group of second-grade girls could be so rowdy.”

“They’re Cat’s friends, Dad. What did you expect? As long as Cat had fun, it’s fine. It was her party, after all.”

Dad smiled. “It’s amazing how you two get along, Adrian. When I was your age, your uncle and I used to fight all the time. Even at parties.”

I shrugged. “Cat and I fight sometimes.”

“Yeah, but there’s never any blood on the carpet.”

I heard Mom call from the kitchen, “Addy!”

“I really wish she’d stop calling me that,” I grumbled. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Dad chuckled, saying, “As far as mothers are concerned, we’re always their little kids.”

“Addy!”

“Coming!” I called back. “Just a minute!”

Then I looked at Dad in dismay. “Always?”

“Always,” confirmed Dad. “Your grandmother still treats me like I’m four years old.”

I made a face, and Dad laughed. “Hey, what’s in a name, anyway? Your mother knows you’re grown up. You help around the house. You watch over your sister. You’re a better kid than I ever was.”

I could never quite picture my father as a child. What was it like to have a brother instead of a sister? It was probably more fun, even with the fights. Oh well, no one chooses how they’re born.

I asked hesitantly, “Dad, do you think I’ll be like you when I grow up?”

“Not if your mother has a say in it,” said Dad, grinning widely. “Why? Did you want to?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” I mumbled.

Dad laughed, and I looked away, embarrassed. Mom was straight as a ruler, but Dad usually made being an adult seem like fun.

“Addy!” Mom called again.

“I’m coming!”

“Addy, wake up. Cindy’s home.”

I opened my eyes halfway and looked up at Alia, who was standing beside my bed and peering down at me. Then I looked over at my bedside clock: 6pm. I had been alone, lying on my bed since noon, and I must have fallen asleep. I groggily sat up and, my head still spinning, stared blankly at Alia.

It was the day after Laila’s funeral. We had been back in New Haven for just under a week. Mark Parnell had conducted the funeral service himself, but there was no body to bury.

When the Lancer Knights reported that they couldn’t locate me and were pulling out, Laila had run into the factory to beg help from the Ravens. Mrs. Brown chased Laila into the building, and just after they met up with Jack Pearson, there was an explosion. Jack P, who was also injured in the blast, reported that both Laila and her mother died instantly.

When Terry first told me, for a while, it was all I could do to just keep breathing. Laila had been Terry’s best friend, and one of Alia’s only friends. Terry didn’t often cry, but that day she did. That day, we all did.

And yesterday, I sat with Terry, Alia and Cindy in Mark’s church for the joint mother-daughter funeral. Guardian dignitaries were invited to talk about how special Mrs. Brown had been. A third generation non-psionic Guardian. A distinguished, honorable member of the Council. Someone who would be missed by all who knew her. Mr. Baker himself talked at length about dedication and self-sacrifice, and how Mrs. Brown and her daughter had not died in vain. But I knew better. They died because of me.

Mark had offered to let me say some words for Laila, but I declined. I couldn’t bring myself to stand there and talk about her. Terry shook her head too.

But Alia stood.

“Laila was a great friend to all of us,” she said aloud. “She was someone I could talk to.”

Throughout the entire service, I didn’t cry even once. I felt too hollow to cry.

“Addy?”
said Alia, peering hesitantly into my face.
“I said Cindy’s home.”

“I heard you, Alia,” I whispered back, but I didn’t stand up.

I knew Cindy had been friends with Mrs. Brown, and I knew that I wasn’t the only one in this house that was mourning. I felt guilty about not making a greater effort to remain composed when everyone felt the same loss. After all, Terry had known Laila since long before I met either of them, and Alia had been very close to Laila too. But Laila and I had been more than friends. Much more.

Alia sat down beside me on my bed.
“Addy, what happens when we die?”

“I don’t know, Alia,” I said quietly. “Laila believed that we go somewhere nice.”

“I hope she’s right.”

“Go tell Cindy I’ll be out in a minute.”

Alia silently stood and left the room. I remained on my bed, staring down at my empty hands. I wished a minute could last a year.

Cindy had been at another long meeting since early this morning. The Council was welcoming a new member to replace Mrs. Brown. They were also busy preparing for a major shift in the balance of power with the Angels.

Larissa Divine was dead. As was Number Two. The Angels no longer had a single master controller. In the long term, this would probably break them apart. But in the meantime, tensions were at an all-time high, and extra precautions were necessary for New Haven’s defense.

With everything else that had happened, I didn’t particularly care, but I nevertheless learned from Mr. Baker, who had dinner with us after the service yesterday, how the Guardians had pulled off their impossible hit on the Angel queen.

Terry had often told me how I was on need-to-know, but regarding this operation, it turned out that Terry herself had been as clueless as I. The Guardians’ target during the gathering of lesser gods had been, from the very start, Larissa Divine herself. Mr. Baker knew that a failed attempt would mean total war, but success would cripple the Angels permanently. Because Number Two was already dead.

The information that the Raven Knights had taken from Father Lestor’s house had not only identified Number Two as a woman named Angelina Harrow, but had led the Guardians to her. Soon after my rescue from the Slayers, an elite team of Lancer Knights had destroyed the Angel settlement where the master controller lived. But that wasn’t all. The Knights had made it look like a random attack by another, lesser faction. The Angels suspected Guardian involvement, of course, but couldn’t prove it.

Without a successor, Larissa Divine was pressured to call a blood trial to heat things up and end the war. Riley O’Neal was, as Terry had said, merely an excuse.

In accepting the blood trial, the Guardians deliberately let slip that instead of falling for the Angels’ trap around Larissa Divine, they would set their sights on Number Two. It was the same story Terry had been told. When an Angel spy was fed this lie, the Angels incorrectly concluded that their second master controller really had been killed by another faction and that the Guardians didn’t even know she was dead.

So the Angels set up another trap, having one of their shape-shifters take the form of the late Angelina Harrow in the hope that the Guardians would try to kill her during the trial. They set up an elaborate ambush around their decoy. The idea was to capture several members of the Guardian assault team and force them to publicly admit that they were after an Angel master, thus giving Queen Divine the leverage she needed to escalate her war with the Guardians. Meanwhile, though the Angels were still serious about Larissa Divine’s protection, they no longer expected an attempt on the queen’s life.