Angelfall

CHAPTER 35

“Penryn?”

Everyone turns to see the newcomer.

One of the lumps lying in the alley uncoils and steps out of the shadows.

My mother opens her arms wide as she walks toward me. Her cattle prod dangles from her wrist like an oversized charm bracelet for the insane. My heart drops to my stomach. She has a huge smile on her face, completely unaware of the danger she faces.

A cheery, yellow sweater flaps in the wind around her shoulders like a short cape. She passes through the men like she doesn’t see them. Maybe she doesn’t. She grabs me in a bear hug and spins me around.

“I was so worried!” She strokes my hair and looks over me for injuries. She looks delighted.

I wiggle out of her grasp, wondering how I can protect her.

I’m about to bring up my sword when I realize the men have backed off, widening the circle around us. The men have suddenly gone from menacing to nervous. The chain that was being used as a threatening lasso only a moment ago is now being used as worry beads as the guy anxiously fidgets with the links.

“Sorry, sorry,” says the first guy to my mother. His hands are up as though in surrender. “We didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” says the guy with the chain. “We didn’t mean any harm. Really.” He eases back nervously into the shadows.

They scatter into the night, leaving me and Dee-Dum to watch in wonder.

“I see you’ve made friends, Mom.”

She scowls heavily at Dee-Dum. “Go away.” She grips her cattle prod and points it at him.

“He’s okay. He’s a friend.”

She smacks me on the head hard enough to bruise. “I was worried about you! Where have you been? How many times have I told you not to trust anyone?”

I hate it when she does that. There’s nothing more humiliating than being smacked by your crazy mother in front of your friends.

Dee-Dum stares at us, stunned. Despite his hard-core attitude and his pickpocketing skills, he’s clearly not from a world where mothers hit their children.

I put my hand out to him. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” I turn to my mother. “He’s helping me find Paige.”

“He’s lying to you. Just look at him.” Her eyes fill with tears. She knows I won’t listen to her warnings. “He’ll trick you and drag you down a filthy hole into hell and never let you out. He’ll chain you to a wall and let the rats eat you alive. Can’t you see that?”

Dee-Dum looks back and forth between me and my mother with shocked eyes. He looks more like a little kid than ever.

“That’s enough, Mom.” I walk back to the metal door beside the gated driveway. “Either be quiet or I’ll leave you here and find Paige by myself.”

She runs to me, grabbing my arm in supplication. “Don’t leave me here alone.” I see in her wild eyes the rest of the sentence—alone with the demons.

I don’t point out that she seems to be the most frightening thing on the streets. “Then stay quiet, okay?”

She nods. Her face is filled with anguish and fright.

I gesture for Dee-Dum to lead the way. He looks at us, probably trying to make sense of it all. After a moment, he takes out his keys, keeping a careful eye on my mom. He tries several keys in the lock before one finally works. The door swings open with a squeak that makes me cringe.

“At the far end of the garage to your right, there’s a door. Try that.”

“What can I expect in there?”

“No idea. All I can tell you is that there are rumors among the servants of…something that might be kids in that room. But who knows? Maybe they’re just midgets.”

I let out a deep breath, trying to calm myself. My heart flutters in my chest like a dying bird. I hope against all odds that Dee-Dum will offer to come in with me.

“It’s a suicide mission, you know,” he says. So much for my hope for an offer.

“Was that your plan all along? Show me where to go, then convince me there’s nothing I can do to save my sister?”

“Actually, my plan all along was to become a rock star, travel the world collecting fan girls, and then getting really fat and spending the rest of my life playing video games while the girls keep comin’, thinking I look as good as I did in my music videos.” He shrugs as if to say, who knew the world would turn out so different?

“Will you help me?”

“Sorry, kid. If I’m going to commit suicide, it’ll be a lot more showy than being cut down in a basement trying to rescue somebody’s kid sister.” He smiles in the dim light, taking the sting out of his words. “Besides, I have a couple of very important things that need to get done.”

I nod. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

My mother squeezes my arm, silently reminding me that she thinks everything he says is a lie. I realize I’m saying goodbye to him as though I, too, believe that this is a suicide mission.

I stuff all my doubts down where I can’t feel them anymore. This is a lot like leaping over a chasm. If you don’t think you can do it, you can’t.

I step through the door.

“You’re really going to do this?” asks Dee-Dum.

“If that was your brother in there, what would you do?”

He hesitates, then gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Listen to me carefully. You have to get out of the area within one hour. I mean it. Get as far away as you can.”

Before I can ask him what’s going on, he fades into the shadows.

An hour?

Could the resistance be planning to attack so soon?

The fact that he warned me at all puts the pressure on me. He wouldn’t risk a leak, which means there’s not enough time for me to do much damage if I get caught and interrogated.

Meanwhile, I can’t shake the image of Raffe lying helpless on a surgeon’s table. I don’t even know where he is.

I take a deep, calming breath.

I head into the dark cavern that used to be a garage.

After a couple of steps, I swallow panic as I stand in utter darkness. My mother grips my arm with enough force to bruise.

“It’s a trap,” she whispers into my ear. I can feel her trembling. I give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

There’s nothing I can do until my eyes adjust to the blackness, assuming there’s anything to adjust to. My first impression is that it is a pitch-black, cavernous space. Standing still, I wait until my eyes adjust to the dark. All I hear is my mother’s nervous breathing.

It’s just a few moments, but it feels like hours. My brain screams hurry, hurry, hurry.

As my eyes adjust, I feel less like a blind target in a spotlight.

We’re standing in the underground garage, surrounded by abandoned cars hunched in the shadows. The ceiling feels both vast and too low at the same time. At first, there seem to be giants spread out in front of me, but they turn out to be concrete pillars. The garage is a maze of cars and pillars fading off into the darkness.

I hold the angel sword in front of me like a divining rod. I hate to go into the darker bowels of the garage, away from what little light comes through the bars of the gate, but that’s where I have to go if I want to find Paige. The place feels so deserted, I’m tempted to just call out for her, but that’s probably a very bad idea.

I step gingerly into the almost total darkness, careful of debris on the floor. I stumble over what I think is a spilled purse. I almost lose my footing, but my mother’s viselike grip on my arm stabilizes me.

My footsteps echo in the dark. Not only does it give away our location, it also interferes with my ability to hear someone else sneaking up on me. My mother, on the other hand, is as silent as a cat. Even her breathing is quiet now. She’s had a lot of practice sneaking around in the dark, avoiding Things-That-Chase-Her.

I bump into a car and I feel my way around a long curve of cars in what I assume is a standard zigzag pattern of cars parked back and forth down rows of slots. I’m using the sword more as a blind man’s stick than as a weapon.

I almost trip over a suitcase. Some traveler must have been dragging it around when they realized there was nothing in it worth carrying anymore. I realize I should have tripped over it. I’m deep enough in the belly of the garage that it should be completely dark. But I can see, just barely, the rectangular shape of the luggage. Somewhere in here is a very dim source of light.

I hunt for it, concentrating on which direction the shadows seem lighter. I’m hopelessly lost in the maze of cars now. We could spend all night wandering through these rows of abandoned cars and not find anything.

We take two more turns, each turn lightening the shadows almost imperceptibly. If I wasn’t looking for it, I would never have noticed.

The light, when I see it, is so dim that I probably would have missed it if the building wasn’t so dark. It’s a thin crack of light outlining a door. I put my ear to it but hear nothing.

I open it a crack. It opens onto a stairwell’s landing. A dim light beckons below.

I close the door behind us as quietly as I can and head downstairs. I’m grateful the stairs are cement rather than the metal kind that make hollow, echoing clangs underfoot.

At the bottom of the stairs is another closed door. This door is outlined in bright slivers of light, the only light in the stairwell. I put my ear to the door. Someone is talking.

I can’t hear what’s being said, but I can tell there are at least two people. We wait, crouched in the dark with our ears to the door, hoping there’s another door through which these people will leave.

The voices fade away and stop. After listening to the silence for several long moments, I crack open the door, cringing in anticipation of noise. The door opens silently.

It is a concrete space the size of a warehouse. The first thing I notice are rows upon rows of glass columns, each large enough to hold a grown man.

Only, what’s in these tubes are more like twisted scorpion-angels.