Read Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One) Online
Authors: C. L. Coffey
Tags: #urban fantasy, #angels, #new orleans, #paranormal romance, #young adult, #new adult
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Interesting dream you’ve
got going on,” I told him, forcing a smile. “I much preferred the
last one.”
“This is a dream?” he asked, struggling to
sit upright.
I leaned over and helped him up. “I don’t
pick the settings.”
He blinked a couple of times and looked
around. “Okay, but this is a new one on me,” he muttered. “You got
a thing for public spots, because I suppose I could go for
that.”
“Not really,” I replied, unable to stop
frowning. He was hitting on me, which didn’t surprise me, but he
still looked confused, and that trademark smirk of his was nowhere
in sight.
Very slowly, he rolled his head around,
stretching out any kinks in his neck. When he returned to looking
at me, he cocked his head. “Interesting outfit. Again, not the
usual.” I glanced down. I was wearing the same clothes I had
dressed in earlier – my uniform. “Kinda makes me wish we were back
in the precinct. My desk seems quite apt for that outfit.”
My expression was one of disbelief. “And
where exactly would anything happen?” I asked him. “Your desk is
buried in crap.”
Joshua let out a low breath. “All this talk
is giving me a headache,” he muttered.
“Dream or not, the car accident probably gave
you the headache,” I corrected him, dryly. “Which is still a little
weird-”
“Angel?” he interrupted me.
I looked at him expectantly.
“Shut up,” he said, then leaned over and
kissed me. Moments later, he pulled away with a frown, licking his
lips. “You’re bleeding.”
My hand flew to my mouth, but when I pulled
them away, there was nothing there. When I looked back over at
Joshua I realized the blood was coming from him. “Joshua?” I cried
in alarm.
“Something isn’t right,” he told me,
uncertainly.
“Joshua, this is your dream,” I said,
grabbing his arm. “You can make it go away.”
He stared blankly at me. “I don’t think I
can.”
“Of course you can,” I urged him. “It’s like
the gators. It’s your dream – if you say there are no gators, there
are not gators.”
“But there are no gators,” he told me, his
complexion going worryingly gray and clammy.
He swayed on the spot then fell to the side.
I only just caught his head, stopping it from hitting the ground.
“Josh, what the hell is going on?” I asked, looking around. “Your
car shouldn’t be wrecked. What kind of dream is this?”
“Something isn’t right,” he mumbled
again.
I shifted my weight so I could rest his head
in my lap. “You need to fix this,” I ordered him. “You need to fix
your dream. Hell, why are you asleep anyway? How the hell can you
sleep during a hurricane?” I blinked and looked around again.
“Josh?” I started carefully. “Where were you when you fell
asleep?”
“I don’t remember,” he told me. “This isn’t
right, Angel,” he added, his voice becoming strained. “I don’t
think I’m sleeping.”
“What happened, Joshua?” I asked
desperately.
“Maggie,” he started, then stopped, jerking
violently in my arms.
“Josh!” I yelled in alarm.
He fell still. “I need to go now,” he
whispered, his eyes closed.
And then he disappeared.
* * *
“NO!” I screamed, my eyelids flying open.
I was back in front of the Yukon, the rain
lashing down as the wind howled ferociously around me, rocking the
SUV behind me. I was panting, sweat mixing with the rain as it ran
down my face. Joshua was in trouble.
I leapt to my feet, grabbing the bow, and
threw it in the back of the truck. I started the engine, and,
spinning the wheels as I stuck my foot on the gas, whirled the
truck around.
My position in the barrier was important, I
knew that. I also knew that as my charge, Joshua was my priority,
no matter what.
Airline was now deserted as I gunned the SUV
back into the city and into the storm, the speed creeping further
and further over 100 mph. I battled to keep it straight in the wind
that fought my progress, but I refused to let my speed drop.
I made it to Maggie’s house in twenty
minutes, but it still didn’t seem fast enough. Joshua’s car was
nowhere in sight, but the street looked familiar.
I turned the car around and began my journey
to the precinct, figuring that if he had crashed, it would be on
this route. I was right, but I nearly missed his car behind a
fallen tree. The reason for his crash was suddenly evident. My only
question was why was he here? Maggie had gotten out.
The SUV aquaplaned in the water as I slammed
the breaks on, but the ABS kicked in and I grounded to an abrupt
halt within feet of the tree. I jumped out of the car and clambered
over the massive tree trunk to reach Joshua’s car. With the
exception of the tree and the weather, it was like déjà vu. I ran
over to the driver’s side but that was where something else became
obviously different.
The driver’s door had been ripped off and was
lying six feet away. The driver’s seat was empty, and Joshua was
nowhere in sight.
I closed my eyes, hoping that someone had
gotten him to a hospital, but as I stood there, I knew that wasn’t
the case.
With my gut tugging me back to the Yukon, I
hurried back to it and climbed in. With no thought for the gardens
I was driving over, I turned the SUV up onto someone’s lawn to
avoid the tree, past Joshua’s wreck, and put my foot back on the
gas. With no clear destination, I drove, listening to my gut
instinct as it told me to take various turns.
* * *
I pulled over,
surprised at where my gut had led me, and peered through the rain
at the entrance to Six Flags. My headlights were sending two beams
of light across the street to the barbed wire fencing and the worn
Six Flags welcome sign behind it. Even now, the CLOSED FOR STORM
message was still there, although it had long since lost the ‘O’ in
closed.
The park had
been closed for Katrina and never reopened afterwards. I had only
been there once before, with my parents when we had visited my
aunt. Short of the odd ride being salvaged and sent on to another
park, it had been left exactly as it was. There had been much
speculation that it would be reopened as another theme park, or
even a resort, but nothing had yet to surface from that.
Before I could
change my mind, I slammed my foot on the gas and sent the car
hurtling towards the thin metal fencing. It went bounding up over
the car, missing the windscreen, but sending a hideous screeching
noise through me.
The parking
lot was barely recognizable, hidden beneath nearly a decade’s worth
of weed and plant growth that had successfully broken through the
concrete at the lack of regular maintenance. The Yukon tore through
them, bouncing over the potholes that were hidden beneath the water
that had almost consumed the parking lot beneath one giant
puddle.
I scanned the
parking lot for the gates, barely making them out as the windshield
wipers battled to keep the rain from the glass. I turned the car in
the direction of the large metal gates. My intention was to burst
in there, startle anyone who was there long enough to grab Joshua,
stick him in the back, and get out – without having to stop the
car.
The plan came
to a sudden halt with the SUV. I hit the gate, it burst open, and
the car spun out into what had once been the ticket office, coming
to a very abrupt stop.
Enhanced
healing or not, the impact hurt, sending my head sailing against
the window next to me. The seatbelt kept me firmly in place, but
the collision was hard enough to knock the wind right from me. It
took precious minutes for my vision to stop spinning. When it
finally did, I yanked my seatbelt off and I had to climb into the
backseat, grabbing my bow as I did, and through the broken back
window to get out.
Whatever blood
there was, was washed away in seconds as the water lashed down on
me. I had to pick the night a hurricane hit to launch a rescue
mission, didn’t I? I paused long enough to check the quiver was
still firmly attached to my sodden trousers, then, brushing my hair
out of my eyes, ducked my head from the rain and made my way into
the park, climbing over the rusted turnstiles.
Where’s Batman When You
Need Him?
If you could imagine the scene after some
form of post-apocalyptic battle – deserted, crumbling buildings
void of glass, the shadows highlighted by the frequent lightning
flashes, the only noise being the thunder, the wind, and the rain
pouring down around you – the only thing missing being the
zombies... that was what Six Flags looked like now.
The Main Street had been built to look like a
typical street in the French Quarter, complete with balconies and
its own ‘Cosmopolitan Hotel’. It had once been warm and welcoming –
a perfect entrance street. Now, every part of it was screaming at
me to get out, that it wasn’t safe.
I ignored the silent cries, keeping my bow
drawn – an arrow ready to fire at anything that jumped out of the
shadows at me. I kept to one side of the street, huddling against
the walls under the tattered awnings as I peered inside. They were
empty, of course. It was probably the only place in New Orleans
that wasn’t supposed to be haunted. It hadn’t been open when
Katrina hit, so it hadn’t been the site of mass death, and before
it had been a theme park in its short (less than twenty year)
lifetime, it had been swamp land.
That didn’t mean, that as the Main Street
opened up into the desolate Square, that I could keep the shivers
from me – and they weren’t there from the wind and rain. In front
of me lay a barely obstructed view of the lake that sat in the
middle of the theme park. A crack of lightning illuminated the sky
in front of me. For a handful of seconds I could see The Big Easy,
the large Ferris wheel that sat at the back of the park, with what
was left of the Mega Zeph, the large wooden rollercoaster, behind
it.
That was the one area of the park I didn’t
want to go into. It was effectively Mardi Gras land and I had seen
enough of the Mardi Gras’ Jester to know that if I saw him in
whatever ruined state he was in now, I would have nightmares about
him for weeks.
I held my face up into the rain, closing my
eyes as I tried to sense which way Joshua was. Far from heading
right into Mardi Gras land, I had to go left. This was almost as
bad, I discovered, as I walked along the deserted paths, dodging
the neglected piles of rubble, to the DC Super Heroes section of
the park.
This had once been my favorite part of the
park, especially the Batman ride it had once housed. That was one
of the only rides that had been salvaged and re-homed. Now there
was a gaping hole in that part of the landscape. The entrance arch
that depicted several superheroes still remained standing, although
the sculpture was now fading away, covered in graffiti.
Behind it was an open space which once had a
fountain and a giant Superman statue – both long gone – and behind
that, just in the distance was what was left of the Joker’s Jukebox
Ride. The cars still remained, but the creepy Joker figure that had
once sat upon the jukebox in the centre, surveying his DC World was
thankfully missing.
It wasn’t the lack of the Joker that had
caught my attention, however. It was the remains of the Gotham City
Hall, or more specifically, the light shining from the Gotham City
Hall. It had been years since power had last been on in this place,
and it was also supposed to be closed off for trespassers – hence
the barbed wire fencing I had driven through.
There was something about this I didn’t like,
as I ducked behind the arch to peer over at the structure. It
struck me, as I tried to make something out, that maybe I should
have asked Michael for help. Yes, Joshua was my responsibility, but
I had no idea what was in there. In fact, as I hurried over to an
overgrown bush to duck behind, behaving like I was in some form of
action movie, if I actually had a phone on me, I would be using
it.
The sound of someone screaming in pain
brought my attention back to my current situation, and out of
the
what
ifs
. I had made my
choice and I was going to have to deal with it. I was miles away
from anywhere, with a broken car, in the middle of a category four
hurricane – and the one thing I knew for certain? That scream
belonged to Joshua.
To hell with it. I continued on, my eyes
darting all over the structure in front of me, looking out for a
guard or sentry. I worked my way past a pile of rubble which had
once belonged to the City Hall, and bypassed the steps up to the
main entrance to the only room that was still intact on the
attraction. I fought my way through the overgrown bushes around the
side to peer in through the only window into the room.
I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember what
had been in here originally. The other buildings in the theme park
had been left exactly as they were. As I passed them, they had been
full of water damaged furniture, computers and tills that would
never work again – there had even been a stand where you could
purchase a photograph of you surviving the ride, still with all the
mock up photos in there.
This room, while still showing the watermarks
on the wall, along with the weeds growing through any available gap
in the place, had all the contents cleared to the side, blocking
the only exit out of there. One way in, one way out.
The first thing in there I actually noticed
were the two guys at the back of the room, their eyes trained on
the door in front of them, evidently awaiting my arrival. They had
a look of a mercenary to them: shaven heads, muscles that bulged
out from beneath the black, skin-tight t-shirts they wore, and a
look in their eyes which had me convinced they had killed before.
On a plus side, it looked like they were unarmed.