“An eternity of punishment comes before the trial?” I’m about to dip my fingers into the jar again when he dumps cereal into it. I’ll have to eat through the cereal before I can lick up more peanut butter.
“The system is purposely harsh to keep everyone in line. It’s what keeps our warrior society together. ”
I poke my finger in the cereal-peanut butter mix, wondering if he’s annoyed. “And if they’re judged guilty?” My finger comes out with a dab of peanut butter on the tip. I lick it off, savoring the last of the sweet taste.
He gets up abruptly and starts pacing the room. “Then eternity gets longer. ”
I know the answer to my next question, but I need to ask anyway. “And when does Judgment Day happen?”
“At the end of the apocalypse. ”
I nod. “Right. The one that everyone’s so eager to have. ” Being right never seems to make me feel better these days.
He takes a deep breath and releases it as if needing to blow off steam. “Let’s go find my sword. ”
I hate to waste time flying to Pier 39 but both the sword and Mom’s tracker are there. That tracker is still my best bet for finding Paige. Besides, I might get a chance to see if Mom, Clara, and the others made it off the island. If they didn’t, maybe there’s something I can do to help them.
Doc had said that the scorpions would be out somewhere tonight and now I know that Beliel must have orchestrated the locusts’ flyby over the angel death rally. The Alcatraz escape should have either succeeded or failed by now. I can’t even stomach the thought of what might be happening now if it failed.
I quickly find an oversized coat and a pair of tennis shoes that fit me surprisingly well. In the meantime, Raffe picks out a wicked-looking kitchen knife and sticks it in his waistband, sheath and all.
Outside, the fog has lifted, showing a crisp night with the waning moon and stars reflecting off the ocean. Between us and the sea is a beach blanketed by pieces of wood and glass from pulverized houses.
The broken glass reflects the light from the sky like a carpet of flickering fireflies that stretches out as far as I can see. It’s so unexpectedly beautiful that I pause to look at it. How can something so wondrous come out of such devastation?
I glance over at Raffe to see if he’s appreciating the same thing. But he’s watching me instead.
I walk over to him, feeling self-conscious. Flying in his arms earlier was the business of war, and we didn’t have much time to think about anything other than escape.
This time it’s by choice, and I can’t help but think about his strong arms holding me and his warm skin brushing against mine.
I lift my arms like a child who wants to be picked up.
He hesitates
for a second, looking at me. Is he remembering holding me in his arms at the old aerie when he thought I was dead? What must it be like for him to hold someone this many times after being isolated for so long?
He lifts me in his arms, cradling me while I wrap my arms around his neck. My cheek brushes against his as he picks me up. Warmth flows from the touch and I resist the impulse to nuzzle.
He runs two steps and we’re in the air, heading toward Alcatraz.
If I hadn’t already flown with him, I’d be scared. I’m above the water with nothing but his arms between me and an icy plunge. But his arms are wrapped tightly around me and his chest is warm. I lean my head against his muscular shoulder and close my eyes.
He rubs his cheek against my hair.
I know that soon I’ll have to think about Paige, Mom, and Clara. My priorities will be all about survival and getting my family together and keeping them safe from monsters and people alike.
But for now, for just for this moment, I let myself be a seventeen-year-old girl in a strong guy’s arms. I even let some of the what-ifs seep in, the kind of possibilities that might have blossomed between us in the World Before.
Just for a little while.
Before I carefully fold my dreams away into the vault in my head.
Chpater 65
INSTEAD OF flying up the peninsula, we fly across it until we reach the San Francisco Bay. From there, the plan is to fly up the length of the bay, roughly following the peninsula coastline. It’s a longer route to Alcatraz but the fog sits thick over the water, just as we suspected. With all the angels and scorpions in the air tonight, Raffe figured we’d be better off flying over water, and he was right.
The air is damp and the wind is harsh. Despite my coat, Raffe is my true source of warmth, and I can’t help but bask in the feel of his body as we whoosh through the fog.
Raffe cocks his head like he hears something.
He veers to investigate. I have no idea how he even knows we’re going in the right direction in the middle of this cloud, much less how he can pinpoint some minor noise that I can’t even hear, but he does.
We glide out of the thickest fog and skim silently along the bottom tendrils of mist hanging over the bay. The smoky moonlight glows faintly against the oily darkness below.
I hear the muffled sound of engines chugging in the water before I see the boats.
Below us, half-a-dozen boats work their way through the bay. I don’t see Captain Jake’s ferry. Of course, there’s no reason why it should be here, but I can’t help but hope that these are the Alcatraz escapees. These boats are smaller and sleeker but still large enough to carry dozens of people each.
Did Dee and Dum manage to bring together a rescue team?
If so, I’m impressed. That would mean they were able to gather enough boats to hopefully get everyone out in one trip. And it looks like they also smartly decided to take advantage of the darkness and fog by traveling over water instead of land.