Chapter Twenty #2
No no no no no no. This couldn’t be happening.
I’d stopped this. Where was Sukariel? I looked around as if I’d find the angel standing just over there, but there was no sign of it.
Maybe it was calling up its toughest angel bros, the ones who’d done all the smiting and sword-swinging in the Bible, and a gang of heavily muscled angels was up there somewhere, cracking their knuckles and preparing to kick some Abomination butt.
Yes. That had to be it. I turned to Eric, preparing to grab him and run, but a chill went through me when I realized he was frozen in place, gaze fixed on nothing, balanced on the ball of his front foot as he tried to race toward the doomed family.
Just like when the Thing had taken Ms. Kettering, the world around us had stopped, the distant sirens silenced.
We must stop meeting like this, the Thing greeted me as it floated closer, wingtips dangling above the grass.
“Are you following me?” I asked hoarsely.
You’re very special to me, Colin. You gave me my freedom. Do you know how long I was imprisoned?
“I do know,” I rasped, striving for a note of defiance, “because I know what you are. You’re an Abomination.”
Very good, it congratulated me. And do you know what that means?
We are what lurks beneath the fragile veneer of civilization, the desires and impulses that your petty laws try to restrain.
We arose from the darkest depths of humanity itself, given form and purpose by your endless capacity for evil. We cannot die.
I swallowed convulsively. “I know more than that. I know your name.”
I have many names. The Sumerians called me Ka Etutu, the Maw of Darkness. To the Egyptians I was Ammupeht, Swallower of the Waters and the Sky. Which name do you know?
“The-One-Who-Hungers.”
Ah, yes. The Canaanites named me that. Do you know why?
Slowly, it drifted closer. I am the gnawing hunger of the starving child, the grasping hunger of the rich man, the bloody hunger of those who take from others.
I am the emptiness that can never be sated.
I am you, Colin, and your hunger for power.
I am all of you, and soon enough, you will all be me.
As terrified as I was, a single question burned at the front of my brain. “Did—did you choose me?”
An emaciated hand reached out as if to stroke my face. Of course. Did you think it was a coincidence that we found each other?
The air left my lungs in a rattling wheeze, as if I’d been punched in the gut.
Your rage, your desperation, that hint of savagery lurking just below the surface—you smelled so delicious. Add a dash of imminent death and, well, I couldn’t resist. I knew you were just what I needed.
I fought to draw breath again. “No,” I gasped, shaking my head in futile denial.
Isn’t this what you wanted, Colin? To be important? To matter? Look around! You’ve ended an entire world. I gave you that. You should be thanking me.
“No,” I repeated. “No. I’ve stopped you.”
You have?
“You’ll see,” I promised from behind trembling lips.
You don’t mean the angel, do you?
I stopped breathing again.
Oh, was it supposed to be a surprise? Forgive me. It’s been fluttering around, trying to work up the courage to do something.
“It—” I forced the words out. “It’s going to smite you with heavenly fire or call down the power of God or whatever angels do.”
We’ll see. Slowly, it bent at the waist and moved its hand toward Eric, standing motionless next to me. One more meal before I go.
I hurled myself at it without thinking, prepared to rip it apart with my bare hands.
It lifted an arm to fend me off, and I staggered back as if I’d run into a piece of rebar.
“No!” I shouted as its fingers dipped toward Eric’s throat.
“No!” I threw myself at it again, but before I made contact, its hand hesitated and then drew back.
Interesting, it said as I scrabbled uselessly at its arm. Then it shrugged me off like a dog would a flea.
I fell back, chest heaving with deep, shuddering breaths, adrenaline roaring through me. If it tried to touch Eric again, I would…I didn’t know what I would do, beyond fight as hard as I could. But it didn’t reach for Eric. Instead, it tilted its body back and looked up at the sky.
I’m in the mood for something easier to swallow. You know, I haven’t devoured an angel in eons. It’s going to be absolutely scrumptious.
“No,” I croaked helplessly.
Goodbye, Colin.
The universe flickered and Eric stepped forward, halting when he realized there was no one left to save. His head turned toward me, eyes wide. “What just happened?”
“They’re gone,” I replied dully.
Expression grim, he said, “We’re leaving. Now.”
I didn’t argue. Bending down to grab my bag from the grass, I glanced over and saw him pick up the disposable spoon I’d used to eat my few bites of cereal.
In his other hand was a small plastic baggie into which he dropped the spoon before slipping it carefully into the sleeve of his leather jacket.
I hesitated, confused. Was this some weird thing where he’d go home and tape my spoon into a scrapbook and then, forty years from now, show it to our grandkids and describe our romantic picnic while Manhattan burned?
Or was there a creepy collection of utensils from all his past dates in a cardboard box that he carried with him from city to city?
Before I could ask, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward his bike. “C’mon. I’ll get you home.”
Numb, I followed, stumbling over my own feet.
As I moved, though, a deep warmth began to spread through my chest along with a rising sense of euphoria.
It was a familiar sensation, one I’d felt just a few hours ago, and instinctively I peered up at the hazy skies.
My heart leaped at the sight of a solitary figure suspended high above, arms outstretched and light streaming from its glowing flesh.
Sukariel.
Our salvation had arrived. Despite what the Thing had promised, hope bubbled through my veins.
I knew that everyone in New York would be feeling this as well, a shining optimism coaxed to life by the intangible presence of the divine.
Next to me Eric whispered something as his hand tightened around mine. We were going to be okay.
With a thunderous clap of sound that made my teeth vibrate, pure darkness boiled out from the sky itself, seething and twisting as it closed in around Sukariel.
That beautiful radiance faltered, the warmth inside me dimming in response as the angel turned in place, hands lifted protectively.
A black tendril snared an arm, then a leg, as darkness crawled across the shimmering form like ink bleeding through paper.
Horrified, I waited for Sukariel to free itself, to beat back the darkness with more light and save us all.
But it didn’t. Instead, shadows rolled hungrily across the angel, and then a burst of golden light lit up the darkness from within, like lightning deep inside a thundercloud.
Everyone in the city knew when Sukariel died, because hope died with it.