Angel Fever

31

“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE really Alex Kylar.” Scott stood propped against the sink next to Alex; he’d just come into the school on his break. It was nearly dawn – a lantern lit the shadowy boy’s bathroom.

“Yeah, I really am,” Alex said dryly. He stood clad in his jeans as he quickly shaved. The second it was light enough, he, Willow and Seb would start searching for the gate.

“Man, you must have seen so much action. How many angels have you brought down?”

“I stopped keeping track.”

“What was your last count?”

Would this guy never shut up? “Over a thousand.” Alex’s tone was terse.

His reflection looked back steadily from the mirror as if the argument with Willow hadn’t happened. But when he’d woken up, her stiffness had brought it back in excruciating detail. They’d dressed in silence.

Scott whistled. “That is just…epic.”

“Not epic enough – they’re still around,” Alex said curtly. There were other guys in the restroom too; to Alex’s annoyance, they were listening. Great, just what he needed.

He glanced up as Seb walked in.

The other sinks were in use; Scott reluctantly stood up. Seb poured a bucket of steaming water into the basin and hastily stripped off his T-shirt. “Morning,” he said to Alex.

“Morning,” Alex muttered back. He knew he didn’t have much right to mind about the kiss – Christ, they’d both thought he was dead. But leaping straight to acceptance was a little beyond him. He had to fight the urge to slam Seb up against a wall.

Scott was eyeing the AK on Alex’s bicep. “I am seriously getting one of those tattoos if we survive this thing. And, dude, is that a bullet wound?”

Alex didn’t bother answering. After a few more attempts, Scott gave up and left. One by one the others filtered out too, until only Seb was there. Alex glanced at him as he swiped his face dry.

“Willow told me,” he said.

Seb had been frowning as if there was something on his mind. He glanced up. “Told you what?”

Alex looked at him without speaking.

“Oh.” Slowly, Seb rinsed the soap from under his arms. “Amigo, it wasn’t anything,” he said, sounding tired. “It was a mistake; we both knew it right away.”

“Yeah, she told me that too.”

“Did she tell you the rest?” Seb pulled his T-shirt back on; his loose curls appeared. “I’m not in love with her any more,” he said quietly. “I care about her as a friend – that’s all.”

Any other time, the news would have been welcome. Now Alex’s muscles stayed tight; he snapped on his own T-shirt. “No, she kept that one to herself. But, hey, it’s good to go out on a high – I heard you couldn’t get enough of each other.”

Seb looked taken aback. “She said that?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got a lot to compete with, apparently. Even if you’re not in the running any more.”

Seb’s high-cheekboned face looked conflicted. “This last year has been very bad for her,” he said finally. “But I know she still loves you. The kiss meant nothing, I promise.”

Deep down, Alex knew it wasn’t really the kiss that bothered him. Well, okay, it did, but he’d get over it.

What hurt was how much Willow had wanted to cause him pain.

It was easier to snap back, “Yeah? So why don’t I go make out with Meghan for a while, and you can see how meaningless you think that is.”

Seb stiffened. “What does she have to do with this?”

“She’s the one you’re in love with, right?”

Seb’s expression had turned murderous. “I said it was nothing, and I meant it,” he said with icy control. “Do you want me to make up something different? Or are we finished?”

“Yeah, we’re finished,” Alex said in a low voice. He glanced at the window. “It’s almost dawn. Outside in five minutes.”

That day and the next passed in a daze of scanning. Taking the southern side of town, Alex searched for the gate to the angels’ world everywhere he could think of. As he worked, he kept passing people hammering up on roofs – and even if he wasn’t psychic, he could feel the tension gripping the town. He worked as fast as he could, urgency pounding through him. But by late afternoon of the second day, he’d only covered about ten blocks.

It wasn’t nearly enough.

“Any luck?” called a voice. Jonah, standing on a ladder built against the side of a house. Alex went over, and Jonah hopped to the frosty ground.

“Not yet,” Alex said. “I don’t know how the others are doing today, though.” It wasn’t true – if either had found something, he was sure they’d have come to tell him.

Jonah’s brown eyes didn’t look as if they missed much. “You don’t think you’re going to find it in time now, do you?” he asked after a beat.

The air bit coldly at Alex’s face. “No,” he admitted.

Jonah nodded slowly as he took in what this meant. Finally he let out a breath and glanced up the home-made ladder. “Want to come take a look? This one’s done; I was just checking it.”

Alex climbed up; the roof was covered with wooden rods nailed at neat intervals. He braced his way up them to the apex. Below, he could see a few streets of houses with bombs attached to their roofs – and then frost-covered fields, with the sunset streaking above. The dying sun was the same red that Willow’s hair used to be.

During these last two days, their exchanges had been perfunctory; mostly he’d caught only glimpses of her. Each time he’d seen her, she’d been searching intently – and when dark had come the night before, she’d helped the builders just as fervently. Finally, around one o’clock in the morning, he’d seen her heading off towards the school with Nina, so tired-looking that he wanted to go after them and take her in his arms.

But he didn’t know what to say – what to do. This cold, angry Willow was nothing like the girl he thought he knew. He hated what had happened as much as she did, but he couldn’t make it unhappen. What exactly did she want from him?

This is just unreal, he thought as he gazed out at the fields. Gone for three weeks, then back to find a year had passed…and his girlfriend acting like a stranger.

Jonah joined him, shoving his grey cap back as they looked towards Schenectady. “Part of me wishes the angels would just attack and get it over with,” he said in an undertone.

Alex nodded. For the hundredth time, he wondered what the hell was taking Raziel so long.

“It won’t be much longer,” he said grimly.

Jonah was still gazing towards the Eden. “You know, the only real faith I ever had was in the angels. To lose that was—” He broke off. “But there are still things I believe in,” he added after a moment.

He glanced at Alex. “Remember when we first met? You pulled a gun on me. I thought you were actually going to use it.”

Alex smiled slightly. He’d been carrying the wounded Willow out of the Denver Church of Angels, with no time to spare before the frenzied crowd turned on her again. “I would have, if you’d tried to stop me.”

“At first I was surprised that you’re younger than me, but then I thought – no, he’s older than I’ll ever be. These last couple of years, though…” Jonah lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve caught up with you.”

“Yeah,” said Alex. “Fighting angels will do that to you.”

They went back down from the roof; Jonah swung himself onto the ladder first. Alex was just about to follow – then stopped mid-motion. There was Willow, searching the next street over.

She hadn’t seen him; she was walking with her gaze fixed in concentration. And suddenly, as he watched, Alex’s throat went tight.

There’d always been a kind of lightness to Willow, even in their worst moments: the sense that unhappiness wasn’t her natural state; that soon she’d be back to her usual serene self. But the way she was walking now, hugging her elbows so tightly…how could he have missed it before?

She looked as if she’d never smiled at all. As if any lightness in her had been buried by months of sorrow.

Willow glanced up and saw him then. She started over; Alex climbed down and hopped to the ground beside Jonah. “Any luck?” she asked as she drew near.

“Nothing,” Alex said. “You?”

She shook her head, glancing up and down the street in frustration. “No, nothing.”

She was too thin, Alex realized suddenly. Oh Christ, that’s why her face looked so different. He’d noticed her thinness the other night, of course, but they’d both had other things on their minds. Now it hit him hard: Willow was naturally slim. If she was thinner, it was because she wasn’t eating enough.

She looked as if she hadn’t eaten enough for a long time.

Even with Jonah standing there, Alex couldn’t help himself: hesitantly, he touched her shoulder. “Willow…” he started.

She glanced at him and then away, her mouth tightening unhappily. “I’d better keep searching while there’s still a little light.” She turned and walked off, still holding her arms. Her small figure in its jeans and parka passed between the houses and was gone.

Alex stood staring after her, Miranda’s words echoing: She’s been very sad for a long time. He had a terrible feeling now that this had been the understatement of the century. And he’d known that. Jesus, if it had been him, and he’d thought Willow was dead—

Yeah, he’d known it with his head. But he hadn’t let himself think about the reality much, had he?

Alex scraped a hand over his face, aware of Jonah’s quiet, non-judgemental gaze. “Come on,” he said at last. “We’d better go start helping the builders.”

“We won’t find it now.” Willow sat clutching her head. “There’s just no way. We can’t have enough time left.”

It was hours later; Alex was sitting at a table in the school lunchroom, poring over the map with her and Seb. The lantern cast a mocking glow on all the places they’d marked off. Not even half the town yet, and nothing. Around them a few subdued groups sat eating. Awareness was rife now: soon they’d be battling thousands of angels.

Alex massaged his eyes. “Both of you, try to get a little sleep,” he ordered. “The attack could come any time now.”

“There must be something else we can—” Seb broke off as Rachel appeared.

“Seb, could you come look at the way we’ve placed these last few bombs?”

Seb’s face had gone expressionless. He shoved his chair back without looking at her. “Yes, fine.”

Once he’d gone, Willow cleared her throat. “So, I’m going to sleep with Nina again tonight,” she said after a pause.

That hurt, though he should have expected it. As she rose, Alex also got up and touched her arm. “Willow, wait. We’ve got to talk.”

Her face had turned stiff with pain. “Not now,” she said, drawing away. “I’m sorry, Alex; I just can’t. These last few days, all I can think is…”

“What?” he asked softly, his hand still reaching towards her.

She started to say something, then shook her head. “No. I’m not going to do this. I’d only say things I’d regret.”

She left the lunchroom. Alex started to go after her; some instinct warned him to leave her alone. He sank back down, resting his forehead on his fists.

Once he’d started noticing how much Willow had changed, he hadn’t been able to stop. She seemed to get headaches now; several times tonight he’d seen her massaging her head. And her eyes looked so sad – and he didn’t think it was just because things were so tense right now. No, her eyes had the look of someone who hadn’t really smiled in over a year.

What have I done to her? he thought.

“Hey.” Scott Mason in his letterman’s jacket, swinging himself into the chair opposite. He dug into a bowl of stew with a spoon. “So how does all this compare with the old days of the AKs? What was it like when—”

Alex got up and left. Ignoring everyone he passed, he pushed open the school’s front door and started walking, following the sound of hammers. Within ten minutes, he was up on a roof in the torchlit town square; it was a relief to be working instead of thinking.

He glanced up as someone else appeared: Seb, his expression stormy. Without speaking, he started hammering too.

When there was a pause, Alex glanced over. “You know, it’s not Rachel’s fault she looks like Meghan. So stop taking it out on her.”

Seb lined another dowel into place. “Why should I care who she looks like?”

“Just knock off the bad mood around her. And I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

Seb hammered without answering, slamming the nail in as if he hated it. Alex didn’t push the point. He and Seb kept working, moving across the roof; when they finished that building, they moved on to the next.

Finally Alex felt a hand on his arm. A guy named Mark, raising his voice over the sound of tools. “You two haven’t had a break yet. You said no excuses, remember?”

Alex scraped a tired hand over his eyes. It had to be almost three in the morning. “Yeah,” he said at last. He glanced at Seb. “Same for you.”

Seb looked as if he was going to protest but didn’t. They left in silence.

The sound of activity faded as their footsteps echoed down the street. A question was pounding through Alex’s brain. He didn’t want to ask it, but he had to. He jammed his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Look, I’ve got to know – what was it like for Willow?” He glanced over at Seb. “After I left. Was it as bad as I think?”

Seb’s face in the moonlight was still dark with his own problems. Finally he sighed. “Worse,” he said.

Alex swallowed. “Were you…able to do anything for her?” There’d been times when he’d resented Seb and Willow’s closeness; now he hoped fervently that they’d become closer than ever.

Seb shook his head. “She wouldn’t let anyone near. She did her work; said what she was supposed to say. But she was just…a zombie.”

Alex’s throat tightened as he pictured it. I’ll make it up to you, he’d told her. It may have been the stupidest thing he’d ever said. He could never make it up to her, not if he spent his whole life trying.

“Then during the attack…” Seb looked down at his feet as they walked. “I think she really wanted to die. I almost couldn’t get her out.”

Alex stared; his steps stilled. “What attack?”

Seb stopped with a quick, surprised glance. He closed his eyes. “Oh, dios mío, she hasn’t told you.”

Alex grabbed his arm. “Told me what? What’s happened at the base?”

Seb’s eyes were reluctant. “There was an angel attack about two weeks ago,” he said at last. “Almost everyone was killed.”

Alex stood stunned as Seb told him the details: how the angels had struck with no warning during a training session; how Sam had died and Willow had tried to run into the final fray.

“I had to fight with her to get her out,” Seb finished. “She was kicking, struggling – she wanted to die with them. No, she just…wanted to die.”

Alex had one hand over his eyes, pummelled by every word. “I should have been there,” he said roughly.

He sensed rather than saw Seb’s shrug. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I should have been there anyway – they were my team,” Alex snapped. He dropped his hand…but couldn’t force away the image of Willow standing over Sam’s body, crying and shooting at the angels. Or of the others, almost all dead.

The world was icy and silent – the sky overhead brilliant with stars. “They were my team,” Alex repeated finally. The words tasted like dust.