Armageddon's Children (20 page)

Then she brings out the flechette, hides herself in the crumbling warehouse next to where she and Johnny made their home, and hunkers down to wait.

The wait is short. The Blades appear around midnight, slinking out of the shadows like dogs, creeping up on the now deserted home, ten strong, armed with knives and clubs. They probably think her asleep. They probably think she does not yet realize what they have done to Johnny and will catch her unawares. They are not very good at what they are attempting, making enough noise that their approach would have awakened her even if she had been sleeping. But that doesn’t make them any less dangerous or odious, and her mind is made up as to what she will do to them.

She waits until they have crowded inside, all but one who stays at the door as lookout. He leans against the frame and looks bored, glancing inside periodically as he waits for something to happen. She is upon him by then, rounding the corner of the house. The flechette fires ten rounds and cuts a twelve-foot-wide swath with each discharge. She uses the first round on the lookout, blowing him back through the doorway and into the others. She uses the next seven on the ones she catches inside, leaving them shattered and broken. She uses the last on the one who somehow manages to get out through a window, catching up with him two blocks away and taking his head off.

She is left shaking and furious and terrified all at once, and she knows in the aftermath of her retribution that nothing in her life will ever be the same.

HER THOUGHTS OF
Johnny and of that night ten years ago when she destroyed the Blade Runners were there and gone in seconds. She wished she had a weapon like the flechette now, something that could open up a path with shards of metal that would rip apart even a demon. But she had only her staff and her skills to protect more than two hundred children and a handful of women, and she was afraid it wasn’t enough.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Helen hissed again.

She looked at the other woman, then at the door in front of her, and made up her mind. She had little choice. They had to either go forward or turn around and go back; all the other entrances had long since collapsed or been sealed. Although the situation was different from the one she had faced after Johnny was killed, it felt the same. She knew what she had to do.

“Wait here,” she said to Helen. “This door will be open, but don’t go through it until you hear me call for you. Then bring everyone at once, as quickly as you can. Don’t stop for anything. Especially not for me. Get up the stairs and out of the building; run down the street and out of the city. Go up into the hills and hide. I will find you.” She paused. “If I don’t come within the next few hours, head north toward San Francisco. You might find those from the other compounds on your way and you can join forces.”

Helen started to speak, but Angel stopped her by taking hold of her arms and drawing her close. “Listen to me. There is something very bad at the top of the stairs. I don’t think it cares about you or the children. I think it is looking for me. It won’t let itself be distracted once it has me. Don’t give it a reason to change its mind. Do you understand me?”

The other woman nodded, then shook her head quickly. “I can’t just run away and leave you! I want to help. You’ve done so much for us. There must be something!”

She took a deep breath. “This isn’t something you can help me with, Helen. What waits up there is very powerful. It isn’t anything human; it is something else. Only I can deal with it.”

She released the other’s arms and stepped away. “Remember what I said. Do what I told you to do.”

Then she moved over to the heavy door, used the magic of her staff a second time to release its locks, pulled it wide open, and stepped through into the gloom of the narrow corridor beyond.

S
HE SWITCHED ON
the flashlight and began to climb.

She went slowly and soundlessly, placing her feet carefully.

She had been able to sense the presence of the demon, but that was a gift peculiar to her. It was entirely possible that the demon had not yet sensed her. Still, she had to be ready.

When she reached the door that opened onto the lobby of the old hotel, she stopped. Her five senses told her nothing of what waited beyond, but her sixth sense reaffirmed what she already knew. The demon was out there. It had discovered her plan to rescue the children, surmised that she had gone into the tunnels, and was awaiting her return.

Oddly enough, it appeared to be alone.

She took a long time to make sure she wasn’t mistaken about this, thinking that her instincts must be misleading her. But they weren’t; the demon was alone. This worried her more than she cared to think about. A demon hunting for a Knight of the Word would normally have brought dozens of once-men to help with the effort. This one was apparently confident enough to believe that it could handle the job by itself. Which, in turn, meant that it possessed either great strength or extraordinary skill.

Or, she added with a shiver, it was totally insane.

I’m not going to survive this.

It was a terrible thing to tell herself, but the words were out and swimming about inside her head before she could stop them. She fought them down and locked them away again, but their whisper lingered.

She took a deep steadying breath and closed her eyes, trying to read what lay beyond. She pictured the lobby, its walls and ceiling, the curved stairway, the debris, the broken-out windows and doors, the check-in desk against the back wall, all of it. She formed the picture and studied it and tried to see where the demon would be. It would choose a place where she wouldn’t see it right away, but where it could get to her quickly. It would try to kill her before she even knew it was there, thinking to catch her unawares. Where would it wait? She tried to imagine it, seeing it in her mind, searching it out.

Then, all at once, she knew.

It would be waiting on the stairs above the doorway where it could vault the railing and fall upon her as she came through. If it was quick enough, it could break her neck before she even knew what had happened.

She could see it now in her mind, could see it clearly, could see the demon, faceless and formless, crouched and ready.

Big.

But she would be bigger.

Strong.

But she would be stronger.

She tightened her grip on the staff and faced the door. She had left it unlocked. The demon would know that, would have tested it to discover if the locks were back in place. Had they been resealed, it could have relied on the sound of their release as a warning of her approach. Unsealed, they would give no warning. So it would be listening for the sounds of her approach or, failing that, the shadow of the door opening into the room.

She would have to be very quick.

She summoned the magic, let it build, and then blew the door right off its hinges. As she did so, she went through the opening at a slant, angling back against the wall as she broke clear of the doorway, eyes and staff lifted to the stairs above her. The shadow was already dropping toward her, every bit as smooth and supple as she had feared. But it was a fraction of a second too slow. Clawed fingers raked the air she had just passed through, just out of reach, clutching futilely. As the demon landed, the white fire of her staff exploded into it, throwing it across the room and into the lobby desk, smashing the desk into pieces.

She had gotten only a momentary glance at it, but enough to reveal that it was huge. “Helen!” she screamed. “Run!”

She moved quickly to place herself between the doorway and the demon, which was already struggling to free itself from the debris, arms and legs thrashing. She got another glimpse of it as it pulled itself clear—spiky blond hair, scaly patches on its face and neck, tree-trunk body. It was female, barely. She attacked, the staff’s fire striking it a second time, knocking it off its feet and sending it sprawling. But the fire seemed to have less effect on it this time, as if it had found a way to deal with the punishment.

Behind her, she heard the pounding of feet and the shrill of small voices raised in alarm. The children were escaping, racing for the freedom of the streets. She didn’t turn to look, her eyes on the demon. She advanced on it, looking to gain more impact from a third strike. But the demon was ready this time and came at her like a huge rodent, skittering across the floor with unbelievable speed, dodging her attempted strike, knocking her from her feet, and closing on her with an audible hiss. She felt as if a wall had collapsed on her, but she tightened her compact body into a knot and fought her way free. The demon tried to follow, but she jammed the staff into its throat and the white fire exploded out and thrust it away.

She was back on her feet quickly, the sound of screaming children washing over her, chaos everywhere. She forced herself to ignore the noise, to keep her eyes on the demon as it rolled into a corner before springing back to its feet. It hissed at her and laughed, taunting her. It was as if the fire of her staff was having no effect at all, as if all she was doing was buying time. Perhaps she was, she realized; perhaps that was the best she could do.

The demon came at her again, flinging pieces of debris, sweeping them up and hurling them so quickly she had to use the fire to protect herself. Then it was on top of her, hammering into her with all of its considerable weight, tearing at her with clawed fingers and ripping at the staff. She sidestepped the charge, ducking under the long arms, using the training Johnny had given her to keep her feet as she moved to one side. Even so, the long claws raked her right side, knocking her off balance and flat on her back. Fiery pain ripped down the length of her body as she tried to scramble to her feet. She was too slow; before she could rise, the demon was on top of her again.

This time it picked her up and threw her across the room. She was weightless for a moment, flying through the air, hugging the staff to her chest. Then she slammed into the curved lift of the stairway and collapsed to the floor, nearly blacking out from the impact. It felt as if every bone in her body had been broken. She gasped for air and struggled up again, swinging the staff about and sending the fire in a wide protective sweep. There was blood and dust in her eyes, and she could barely see. She got lucky and caught a glimpse of the huge body leaping for her, and she brought the staff’s fire to bear.

The demon went right through it.

She watched the fire engulf it, turn it into a living torch, and fail to halt its momentum. She watched it as if it were happening in slow motion. She could see the madness in the demon’s green eyes, could see the glint of its sharp teeth as it grimaced against the pain it was absorbing. She could see it breaking past her defenses, impossibly strong.

In the next instant it had wrenched the staff from her hands and flung it away.

It went into a crouch in front of her then, smiling through a mask of scales and dirt and blood. Its spiky hair was singed and its clothing was in tatters; one arm had been opened to the bone. But it was a demon, and demons felt little pain. Demons could heal themselves of injuries that humans would die from. This one seemed both un-slowed and untroubled by its injuries. This one seemed to revel in them.

It feinted right and then left in mock attacks, toying with her. It was enjoying this, she realized. It was having fun.

She was back on her feet now and had taken a defensive stance. She did not look for the staff, did not take her eyes off the demon. Her training made her reactions instinctive. She knew what to do, even though she knew it was probably over and she was going to be killed. She did not respond to the feints, did not lunge or back away. She held her ground, waiting.

When the demon came for her, its claws slashing, its huge body seeking to envelop her in a ring of muscle and bone, she braced herself until it was close enough, then hit it with both fists between the eyes. The blow was shocking, and the demon staggered, crying out. Its arms tried to wrap about her anyway, but she ducked under their sweep and struck it again, this time on the right ear. The demon howled, swung about, and caught her fists flush on its nose.