Angelfall (Penryn & the End of Days 1)

“Dont let my appearance fool you, Penryn. I am not human. The Daughters of Men are forbidden to Angels. ”

“What about Daughters of Women?” I attempt a cheeky smile but it falls flat.

“This is serious business. Don’t you know your religious history?”

Most of what I know about religion is through my mother. I think about all the times she raved in tongues in the middle of the night in my room. She came in so often while I slept that I’d gotten into the habit of sleeping with my back to the wall so I could see her coming in without her knowing I was awake.

She’d sit on the floor beside my bed, rock back and forth in a trancelike state, gripping her Bible and speaking in tongues for hours. The nonsensical, guttural noises had the cadence of an angry chant. Or a curse.

Really creepy stuff while you’re lying in the dark, mostly asleep. That’s about the extent of my religious education.

“Uh, no,” I say. “Can’t say I know much about religious history. ”

He begins walking again. “A group of angels called the Watchers were stationed on Earth to observe the humans. Over time, they got lonely and took human wives, knowing they shouldn’t. Their children were called Nephilim. And they were abominations. They fed on humans, drank their blood and terrorized the Earth. For that, the Watchers were condemned to the Pit until Judgment Day. ”

He takes several steps in silence as if wondering whether to tell me more. I wait, hoping to hear as much as I can about the world of angels, even if it’s ancient history.

The silence is heavy. There’s more to this story than he’s telling me.

“So,” I prod. “The long and short of it is that angels aren’t allowed to get together with humans? Otherwise, they’re damned?”

“Very. ”

“That’s harsh. ” I’m surprised I can feel any sympathy for angels, even ones in ancient stories.

“You think that’s bad, you should have seen the punishment for their wives. ”

It’s almost as if he’s inviting me to ask. Here’s my chance to find out more. But I find that I don’t really want to know the punishment for falling in love with an angel. Instead, I watch the dried needles crunch under my feet as we walk.

~

Skyline Blvd. abruptly ends at Highway 92, and we follow Highway 280 north into the once highly-populated area just south of San Francisco. 280 is a main artery into San Francisco, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to hear an actual working truck on the road below us. But it is.

Its been almost a month since I heard a moving car. There are plenty of cars that work, plenty of gas, but I hadnt realized there were any clear roads left anymore. We crouch down in the shrubs and scan the road. The wind cuts through my sweatshirt and teases hair strands loose from my ponytail.

Below us, a black Hummer weaves in and out, following a path thats been cleared between the jammed cars. It stops and idles for awhile. If it turned off its engine, youd never know that it was any different from the thousands of other cars abandoned on the streets. When it was moving, I could see the path of cleared cars that it followed. But now, I see that the path cleverly winds and even backtracks to hide the fact that it is a path.

Now that the Hummer has stopped, the path is blocked, and it would be very tough to see the trail at all unless you knew about it. The Hummer is just one in a sea of empty cars, the path just a random pattern of gaps among an infinite maze. From the ground, you could probably see the driver and passengers in the Hummer, but from the air, youd never know. These guys are camouflaging themselves against the angels.

“Obis men,” Raffe says, coming to the same conclusion I ha

ve. “Clever,” he says with some respect in his voice.

It is clever. The roads are the most direct way to get anywhere. The Hummer cuts its engine, and it effectively disappears into the scene. A moment later, Raffe points up. Tiny specs mar the otherwise clear sky. The specs move fast and quickly turn into a squad of angels flying in a V formation. They sweep low over the freeway as if searching for prey.

I hold my breath and crouch as low as I can in the brush, wondering whether Raffe will call out for their attention. It hits me again just how little I know about angels. I cant even guess as to whether Raffe wants this new groups attention. How can he tell if theyre hostile?

If I did manage to infiltrate the angels lair, how will I find the ones who took Paige? If I knew something about them, like their names, or unit identification, Id have a start. Without realizing it, I had made the assumption that the angels are a small community, one maybe a bit larger than Obis camp. I had vaguely imagined that so long as I could find the aerie, I could observe and figure out what to do from there.

For the first time, it occurs to me that it could be much bigger than that. Big enough for Raffe not to be able to identify whether these angels are his friend or foe. Big enough for them to have deadly factions within their ranks. If I were to walk into a camp the size of a Roman invading army, could I just figure out on the spot where they kept Paige and simply walk out with her?

Beside me, Raffes muscles loosen and he deflates into the ground. Hes decided not to try to get the angels attention. I dont know if this means hes identified them as hostile, or if he just couldnt identify them at all.

Either way, it tells me that his angel enemies are more threatening than the risks he takes on the ground. If he could find friendly angels, they could carry him to wherever he needs to go, and he could get medical attention that much sooner. So the threat must be severe for him to pass up that chance.

The angels turn and swing by past the sea of cars again, as though to sniff the air for prey.

I can barely find the Hummer again even though I saw where they stopped. Obis men know their camouflage all right.

I wonder what’s their mission that makes them risk getting caught on the road? It can’t be us. Were not worth the risk, at least, not that they know. So they must think theres something important near or in the city. Maybe recon?

Whatever it is the angels are looking for, they dont find it. They swoop up and disappear into the horizon. The air rushing past their ears as they fly must dull their hearing. Maybe thats why it has to be so good to begin with.

I let out a deep breath. The Hummer below finally restarts its engine and resumes winding its way north toward the city.

“How did they know the angels were coming?” he asks, almost to himself.

I shrug. I could make some random guesses, but I dont see any reason to share them with him. We’re smart monkeys, especially where survival is concerned. And Silicon Valley has some of the smartest, most innovative monkeys in the world. Even though I escaped Obis camp, I feel a pang of pride at what our side might be doing.