But the thought disappears as the truck starts to slide off the edge of the bridge. The grating of metal against the cement behind me is so loud I have no choice but to bring my hands to my ears in an attempt to block it out. The seat belt pulls against my hips as I swing back and forth. I close my eyes. This is it. So close. This is it.
But it’s not.
The truck shakes as something slams into the top of it. It’s jarring, the shockwaves cause my teeth to chatter, and then the truck stops moving. I open my eyes and see Cal standing at the front of the truck, his lower body straining, his wings starting to flicker in and out around him like the bald Strange Man.
“You have to get out!” he yells. “I can’t hold it.”
“Abe, go!”
He looks scared. “What about—”
“Go!”
He does, with one last glance at me. Even though he must be in astonishing pain, his face hardens and he pulls his broken arm up to his chest and moves carefully but quickly through the broken glass, banging his head on the dash and muttering to himself. He makes a play for the gun and snags it around the barrel before he gets clear and rolls out onto the pavement. He turns and holds out his hand.
Fuck, this is going to hurt. But I hear Cal grunting, see him getting pulled closer to the edge as the truck slides. I look back behind me and enough of the rear of the cab has cleared the cement that I can see the river below, rushing so far underneath me it seems a frightening distance. I turn back to Cal in time to see his wings disappear completely.
“Benji!” Abe cries as the truck slides further over the edge.
Knowing there’s not much time left, I curl myself up toward the floor of the cab so when the seat belt comes undone, I’ll land on my back instead of my neck. The muscles in my stomach howl and burn, and my fingers fumble with the l
atch. More blood gets in my eye. I can’t see. My fingers feel numb as they skitter off on the belt. I’m going to die here. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. Please just let me—
I find the latch. I pull the metal tab up and the seat belt releases instantly. Before I can even brace myself, I crash down onto the roof of the cab, the air knocked out of me, slamming my head against the roof. There are stars everywhere for a moment, and they are so fucking blue that I just want to follow them into the dark. I almost do, but then I hear him say, “Benji, don’t go,” and I can’t. I can’t leave him here alone. Not after all he’s done for me. Not after all he’s done to get to me. I can’t. I won’t.
Forcing the stars away, I roll over, glass cutting into my arms as I crawl forward. The truck shifts again, and Cal and Abe both cry out. Abe leans in closer, reaching out his hand for mine. I raise my hand toward his and his fingers graze against mine and—
The truck slips even farther. I glance back and see the cab is caught on the very lip of the bridge. Only another few inches and it will fall. It starts to slide again. “Benji!” Cal shouts, the terror in his voice rocking me to my core. I turn back to Abe and push up with my hands and feet, launching myself toward his outstretched hand. We snap wrist to wrist, our skin slick with blood, but his grip is strong and he pulls as my feet scrabble for purchase, slipping against glass and debris. Cal cries out again as the Ford tilts upward and begins to fall off the bridge. The edge of the windowsill clips my left ankle, causing searing pain to shoot through my leg, and then the truck is gone and I’m partially on top of Abe, both of us gasping for air. Only a few seconds later, there’s a crash, a splash of water, and even though it’s distant and muffled by the wind, it still grates against my ears.
Then I’m lifted up off the ground and cradled against a broad chest. Cal has fallen to his knees near the edge of the bridge, pulling me tightly against him. He brushes a big, calloused hand against my face, wiping away the dirt and blood and tears. “Are you okay?” he asks me roughly. I can feel him shaking against me. “Oh, please tell me you’re okay. Please, Benji.”
I reach up to touch his face. “You came,” I whisper.
He turns his head to kiss my palm, his stubble scraping against my flesh. “Saw your thread,” he says. “Saw Abe’s too, but your thread was like the sky exploded. So bright. So blue. I was scared.” His voice cracks, but he pushes on. “Didn’t think I’d get to you in time.” He kisses my hand again, an action so tender I start to shake right along with him.
“I called for you,” I breathe. “And you heard me.”
“Yes,” he says simply.
I tear my eyes away from his. “Abe?”
“I’ll be fine, boy,” he says. “Takes more than a car crash, a broken arm, and nearly falling off a five-story bridge to keep me down.”
I allow myself to chuckle.
Then:
A groan, from the other side of the bridge. Cal begins to growl, his eyes going completely dark, tightening his grip on me. Jack Traynor groans again, unaware of the man holding me in his arms, the man who is still not quite yet a man. A man who has blue lights starting to flash around him, weak but there nonetheless. Cal’s jaw twitches as he grinds his teeth. His nostrils are flaring. A vein sticks out on his forehead. He’s staring at me, but I don’t know if he’s really seeing me. I see the faint outlines of his wings as he lowers me back to the ground next to Abe.
“No,” I tell him weakly. “You can’t.” I try to lift myself up to stop him, to grab on to his arm and pull him back to me, to stop him from leaving, but I am so damned tired, and I can’t find the strength to move. He touches my face again. “You can’t do this,” I repeat.
“I will do what I must,” he says, his voice a horrifying thing, deep and so unlike the Cal I’ve known. Gone is the warmth. Gone is the sweetness. This is an angel, vengeful and powerful.
He stands above me, the blue swirling lights growing brighter. His wings begin to flicker in and out. Feathers brush my face. They smell of earth. He takes a step away from me and starts crossing the road. I know Traynor is awake when he starts to scream. The wind picks up, carrying his cries. Each footstep Cal takes makes a resounding boom in the air.
I roll to my side. No, I think. Can’t let him do this. Can’t let him kill. He’ll be damned. He’s not meant to harm. He’s meant to protect. Oh God, I hurt. I hurt so bad. “Cal,” I call out in a croak. “Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.” I push myself up to my hands and knees.
Calliel doesn’t look at me. He’s advancing on Traynor, who is trying to scramble away from him, pressing himself up against the concrete divider. He tries to push himself up with his legs to get on the other side of the divider, but he cries out and grabs his side. His shirt is soaked with blood, his eyes wide in fear. He’s able to prop himself partway up, leaving a bloody smear on the concrete behind him.