Midnight's Angels - 03 (11 page)

What Ross had said kept nagging at her, tugging at the edges of her conscience. Had his words managed to worm that far into the way she felt? Not that she hadn’t thought about that stuff an awful lot since she had come out here. Hell, there wasn’t much else she could do. She’d thought about it every single day.

Cassie hadn’t caught a fish this evening, but that didn’t seem to bother her. She didn’t feel especially hungry, her gut flipping over. She had lit a fire all the same. It had become a ritual that she went through every evening. Building the pile of thin twigs, then adding bigger ones.

But that had been more than an hour back, and she hadn’t bothered to stack it up to its usual size. She watched it as it dwindled, the darkness tightening its grip around her.

The night air was much cooler that it had been a few days ago. Goose bumps had sprung up on her arms, and she rubbed at them pensively. Her life had become so simple out in this quiet, isolated place, consisting of just basic actions. Wake up. Exercise. Get some food. Light the fire. Eat. Then sleep, and wake again. She loved it, in a strange sort of way. It felt like traveling on some constantly ebbing and rising tide that she had no control over whatever. And on that level, why bother with thinking stuff through anyway? What possible difference could that make?

She tipped her head back, gazing at the firmament. Man, but the stars were so bright out here. Back in East Meadow, she had barely ever noticed them, save when she was outdoors and had drunk too much. With the streetlamps in the way, they had seemed faint and distant, barely real. But here in the forest, they glimmered so intensely that she felt she could reach up and brush her fingertips against them.

When she tried … dampness welled up in her eyes. It caught her unawares. She hadn’t felt especially sad before she’d raised her hand. So what was this about?

She became aware of the tremendous gap between what she was doing and how she was feeling. All she’d physically done was stretch up her arm. But it felt -- between one instant and the next -- like she was reaching out for her three missing children, trying to get them back.

That big red star in Orion. That might be Kevin, mightn’t it? That bright blue one further across? Angel, possibly?

That tiny one that kept on winking down at her, as if it knew her? Little Cassie? Yes?

Hi, babe!

Goddamn, she was thinking crazy stuff. And so she let her arm drop back and wiped her eyes.

When she stared at the fire again, it had burnt down to its last few dancing orange shoots. And that was when her gaze lifted a little higher, out of instinct, and she noticed something genuinely odd.

The whole two months that she’d been out here, every single night, a gentle, steady glow had persisted to the east of her, beyond the tall peaks of the trees. It was the electric lighting of the town itself, and never varied. Cassie had come to regard it as a constant, like the moon and stars.

And you’d really notice it, now wouldn’t you, if the moon glowed duller or a few stars started to go out?

The same kind of thing had happened, right before her eyes. The glow from the town diminished. What the …?

Her old behavior asserted itself. She was on her feet in a split-second, her fists tightly clenched, her breathing ragged. Then she caught hold of herself and calmed down a little.

Tried to tell herself it might just be a power outage. But it didn’t feel like that. She could almost sense it. And she’d always had these very strong instincts, whenever there was something wrong. They were pounding at her consciousness by this stage, like a series of harsh blows. Her hands would not unclasp. Her breath was hissing though her nostrils.

Ought she go and check it out?

But she’d retreated here in the first place precisely so that she could avoid doing that. Her conversation with Ross spooled out through her mind again. And remembering the words they’d used, she saw that they’d both got it wrong. She finally saw the truth of it.

They’d used words like ‘duty,’ ‘obligation.’ Doing things because you ought to. Doing things because you could. But that was not why she’d been battling evil forces this whole while.

The real reason washed through her like a mountain stream, a startling revelation that flushed all the other junk away.

She hadn’t been doing this because she ought to. Nor even because she really wanted to.

It was because she had to,
needed
to. It was the only way to fill the hollow that had been left in her soul when her family had vanished. Saving someone, anyone … it seemed to soothe her just a little. Because the plain truth was, she blamed herself for what had happened to her kids. She had brought Tom Larson home. Encouraged him to move in, and do anything he liked.

Maybe it was high time she stopped beating herself up about it.

The glow up ahead of her was still a good dealer dimmer than it should have been. Her hands unclenched a little and her index fingers twitched. She wondered what was going on out there. Ross hadn’t mentioned anything like this.

Cass jerked back the next instant, badly startled, and with good reason. A pair of eyes had suddenly appeared before her. Maybe she was imagining that, since they were floating in the air all by themselves. There was no hint of a face surrounding them, nor anybody holding them up.

Her hands moved for her knife, then stopped, realizing this wasn’t any supernatural enemy. Because when the eyes blinked at her, there was a burning redness in their pupils.

There was only one person she knew of who had that. And so she recognized that this was Lehman Willets.

Under normal circumstances, she’d be afraid of the man, horrified that he’d approached her. It was the same way for the entire town, Ross being the only real exception. Everyone knew what his history was, his lapse into megalomania and the innocents he’d killed.

But his unannounced appearance this way, like some weirdly reversed Cheshire Cat -- it was so bizarre that her normal reactions didn’t kick in. She simply froze, then blinked back at him.

There was no mouth in view, no lips or tongue. But regardless of that, his gruff voice drifted to her from the ether.

“Ross needs you, really badly. There’s a lot of townspeople in trouble.”

The doctor paused, then added, “And it’s families, Cassandra.”

Then he opened up a window in her mind, and showed her what was happening on the darkened edge of Tyburn.

Both angels appeared from the same intersection as the smaller creatures had. They’d apparently been following along behind them. As we watched, they started to draw closer. There was nothing hurried or urgent about the way they moved. That bothered me more than a sudden rush would have. They came sailing in our direction like two vast pieces of dandelion snow caught on a vagrant wind, like they had all the time in creation.

Was it just that they had been around so long? Or were they confident that nothing could oppose them?

They seemed to be glowing a few degrees brighter than the last time I’d encountered them. That put me in mind of what Willets had said, about them gaining strength the longer they were here. But there was still no warmth to the way they shone. Their light was cold as a crescent moon’s on a very frosty winter night. Their shifting wings and lean, gnarled faces glowed with real intensity, but it was almost wholly self-contained.

“Ross?” I heard Ritchie blurt.

I remembered this was his first look at these things. He’d seen the humans who’d been changed, but had not met their makers. And Vallencourt’s not easy to shake, but even he looked worried.

I flicked my gaze across the barrier, wondering if it would hold. The closer they got, the more I doubted it. They could obviously see it, but they were not slowing down. And if they managed to break through …

Then matters got a whole lot worse. Dozens more of those dark, scuttling shapes, then hundreds of them, were appearing on the street behind the glowing figures. Like the angels were Pied Pipers, leading a whole troop of man-sized rats.

That forced me to a decision. And the first order of business was, the family we’d helped was still in danger.

“Get them
out
of here!” I shouted.

Vallencourt’s expression froze. “How about you?”

“I can take care of myself. Get them out of harm’s way,
now
!”

The look in his eyes went a little cooler, seeing I was right. These were ordinary citizens -- their safety was his main concern. He pulled open the doors of his classic old Camaro and they didn’t even hesitate. They piled in. It was a hell of a squeeze, all five of them in a sports model. But the kids fitted in the narrow backseat. And then the orange car was wheeling around and screaming away, leaving the smell of rubber in its wake.

I watched that with relief. But staying here made no sense in the least. There was nothing I could do against these creatures on my own. And so I got into my Cadillac and took it a distance off down Greenwood Terrace before performing a U-turn and stopping again.

I peered through the glass, watching events unfold. Uncomfortably aware that I had done the same thing last time.

Both angels drifted right up to the broad translucent wall. You couldn’t see how high it went -- it simply bled off into the upper darkness. From this distance they were reduced to bright specks, which didn’t mean I couldn’t see them clearly. They paused behind it, hovering weightlessly. A great cluster of hunched shapes gathered up behind them. ‘Hominids’ … the word came to me. Creatures that looked vaguely human, but were not.

The angel on the right started to sail forward again. The barrier bulged around it, the exact same way a bubble might.

And then, without anymore fanfare, it broke. I think I hit the dashboard with my knuckles at that point.

The whole shimmering surface faded, disappeared. As quickly and easily as that. I’d expected it to slow them down for at least a little while, but it hadn’t even done that. The product of the adepts’ combined power, and it was next to useless against these things.

I was sucking in uneasy breaths. What would they do beyond this point?

Once they were through, the bright figures paused. They didn’t come out onto the main street, but halted right on the shadowy edge of Tyburn. Sycamore Hill’s magic hadn’t halted them. But something else was doing so.

I figured what it was. Back the way they’d come, the avenues were murky, not the smallest gleam from any source. Whereas the neighborhood ahead of them was still well lit. The streetlamps were on, especially on Greenwood Terrace, which shone like a strip of neon through the darkest hours of the night. In addition to which, most people were at home and had their lights turned on, as they had been advised. It was practically as bright as day out in the streets surrounding Tyburn.

Willets had been right. It was the angels’ one real weakness. And I felt relieved a second time.

Then that began evaporating like a mist. Because the hominids started spilling out across the open highway.

They didn’t seem to like their new environment anymore than their creators. Were hunched even lower, tucking their heads down. But they kept on going. And I thought at first that they were heading for the populated houses. But it turned out that was not their goal.

They streamed in the direction of a couple of tall posts at the corner of Greenwood and Canterbury. And I immediately saw what they were after. There were power lines suspended up there, stretching out across a good deal of this district.

Dozens of the things went scuttling up, gravity not doing a thing to stop them. They seemed to be adults to the last. There were no smaller figures in among them.

I thought at first that they were going to try and tear the posts down. But it turned out that was not the plan. The leading creatures reached the top, and started grabbing at the actual cables. I jumped in my seat so hard that the whole Caddy rocked. Then watched, horrified, as the inevitable happened.

Their hands remained locked, even when their feet fell loose. And they began to fry and crackle, streams of gray smoke pouring from their frames. You would have thought that sight would make the ones behind them pause. But it didn’t, not a tiny bit.

More of them came rushing up, and went through the exact same motions. The fact that they were committing suicide, and willingly, showed me the kind of power they were under.

Within less than a minute, there had to be some hundred figures dangling from the lines. Just hanging there like weird, unpleasant bunting. The electricity had spasmed their hands, holding them in place. The fact that they had once been human made the sight even more awful. And a few finally dropped away. But even more were surging up, replacing them.

Until finally, the inevitable happened. A fitting tore loose, and there was an almighty flash.

And then this whole district, every street around me, was plunged into depthless gloom. From the windows nearest me, I could hear muffled voices shouting.

* * *

My eyes fought to adjust again. There was only the distant glow of the moon providing any illumination. I glanced anxiously at the town center, saw it was still lit. And that was good. Only it looked so far away by now. Might as well have been the bright lights of a distant shoreline, viewed from far out on a black, reflective sea.

The angels were the only shining objects left. And they were on the move again. Except it was not only them.

People must have gone to their windows, seen the pale shapes and the hominids. And finally understood the kind of danger they were in.

Panic began spreading along Greenwood Terrace. Front doors were flung open. And some garage doors came scraping up. The people in the houses around me were either piling into vehicles, or trying to get away on foot.

I couldn’t sit here and watch this. So I came out through the driver’s door with my gun in my hand. Took a straight-armed aim and began firing, emptying the whole chamber. But from this distance, I only managed to wing two of the hunched attackers.

It didn’t even seem to get their notice. But what if the angels spotted me, and came at me again? I didn’t even allow myself to think about that, just rummaged in my pockets for more ammunition.

A ghastly scene was unfolding in front of me, the entire thing in murky monochrome. Of the people trying to flee, it was the ones on foot who were faring the worst. The cars were plowing straight between the hominids, managing to knock some of them over. But, right in front of my horrified gaze, a couple in their late fifties came hobbling across their front yard. Neither of them were in good shape. They limped and struggled. Then about a score of crouched shapes -- in a tight cluster -- came rushing across, completely overwhelming them.

The couple was dragged down, flailing wildly. Some of the creatures sat on them, pinning them firmly to the ground. And then two more gave their victims what looked weirdly like a deep, devouring kiss. And they were released immediately after that.

When the couple got back up, they were on all fours too. They had no difficulty moving now. Scampering swiftly, they joined the general pack, which was loping back and forth across the pavement. And then the pair of them began attacking people who had been their neighbors.

Vehicles were slewing past me. They were packed with frightened townsfolk, terrified faces behind each pane of glass. I doubted they knew what was going on. But if you’re born in the Landing, you teach yourself to move first and think later.

The angels were not making any effort to join in the attack. They were hovering above the street, overseeing matters. Letting their minions do the work. And those damned hominids actually looked like they were enjoying themselves.

I found one final bullet, but it spun to the blacktop from my nerveless fingers. So I started bending, then saw something else.

Off to the right, a teenaged girl had managed to get part of the way out of there. She had to be about fifteen, skinny. Still in her school uniform, her skirt flapping around her as she ran. She was moving like a basketball pro, dodging and sidestepping. But that movement had caught the hominids’ attention, and their heads came jerking up.

At least thirty of them broke away from the main pack and started closing in on her.

One bullet would not stop this. I jumped back in my car. Slammed the Caddy into drive and switched my headlamps to full beam. Floored the gas, went rushing in.

The bright glow from the car’s lights washed across the things, and that got a reaction. They jumped out of the way, their faces becoming contorted as the beams touched them. It wouldn’t give me much, but at least a few valuable seconds.

I pulled up next to the kid and flung my passenger door open.

“
Get in!
”

She stumbled to a halt, but was so confused she didn’t seem to hear me properly. Stood there gawking numbly, one fist jammed against her open mouth. I yelled at her again, then sounded the car’s horn, but it made no difference. Her mind had gone elsewhere.

A few of the hominids had already figured this thing out. My beams could only point in one direction. They were edging around again, coming in from the sides. They did it warily, obviously afraid I might have something else. But more of them had noticed and begun to do the same. Goddamn it.

There was a box of ammunition in my glove compartment. I could see no other choice, and so I lurched toward it.

And that was when something unexpected made me pause. Another light was abruptly shining, powerfully, through my rear windshield. Another headlamp beam, a single one this time.

The familiar blast of a twin-cam Harley engine hammered at my senses.

And some people don’t care for the sound. But I have to admit, it was music to
my
ears.