Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BASTIAN
“How much farther?” Bee asks from the seat behind me.
“We should be at the coordinates in five miles.”
“So close.”
She sounds worried. Nervous.
I get it. So am I.
This is the first journey where we haven’t been attacked by the monsters, and it feels like our luck should be running out, but we’re almost at base zero, so maybe we’ll make it without mishap.
The people on our bus are silent now. The constant low hum of conversation has died as if they’re also experiencing the same fears and doubts as me.
We’d be delusional not to be worried. Not to doubt. Not to wonder when the sky will open and spit out razor beaks or when crabines might burst out of the ground.
This silence isn’t normal. It feels ominous, like the eerie calm before a vicious storm.
Bee crouches beside me, her hand on the arm of my chair, her eyes on the road ahead, scanning the terrain, always scanning.
“Bee, sit down. The watchers have got this.”
They’re in the air above us and running along the ground ahead and behind us. They have our backs, and there’s no need to worry. Two miles off now.
The ground is flat and dry here, stretching as far as the eye can see either side of us. We’re exposed to attack. I glance in the rear-view at the bus behind us driven by Derry, a guy I’d never spoken to until last night.
Derry is one of the old-timers, in his fifties, and used to drive a lorry. He has all the supplies in his bus along with a handful of passengers.
“We should be coming up on those coordinates any second.”
“I don’t see anything,” she says.
“Gabriel said they’re underground.”
“So we need to look for a hatch? A sewer pipe? What do—”
“Bee, what is it? What’s…Oh…” The sky ahead is a churning black mass of tendrils like the other day when our bus was upended by monsters that appeared out of nowhere. The same inky shit that misted the skies all day. It’s Gehenna bleeding into our world, which means—
Tumiel appears in our path, wings beating hard to stay airborne. “Slow it down!” he orders before shooting up to join the other watchers.
I decelerate, and Derry takes his lead from me until we’re moving ten miles an hour. Razor beaks spawn to life in the sky amidst the black swirly shit, and the watchers and reapers attack them.
“We have eight razor beaks,” Bee says. “Maybe more.”
“They’ve taken down three.” We’re getting too close now, so I slow down even more. “We need to let them handle this.”
“You say that as if I’m begging to go out there and help. Heck, I’m not suicidal.”
Five down. “We have the numbers, so we should—”
A sound like the crack of lightning cuts the air followed by another and another, and one of the razor beaks falls out of the air.
It takes a moment for my brain to comprehend what’s just happened because it’s been a long time since I’ve heard this sound, and even then, I only ever heard it in movies.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Bee demands.
“Gunfire.” My heart hammers in my throat. “Someone is shooting at the raptors.”
“Base zero?”
“It has to be.” I find the source of bullets a moment later—raised hatches in the ground with the barrels of guns pointed into the air. “There! To the left. Do you see them?”
“They must have eyes on the area,” Bee says. “They know we’re incoming. They’re helping us.”
We’re almost under the battle when the gunfire turns on the watchers.
“They’re shooting our people!” Bee sounds incredulous, and I’m incensed for a moment until it hits me. They don’t know the watchers are with us. To them, the watchers are monsters just like the razor beaks.
“Open the door!” Bee orders. “I have to stop them.”
The last razor beak is down, but the gunfire continues, aimed at the watchers, who desperately try to avoid the bullets that might not kill them but could seriously hurt them, leading to days or maybe weeks of recovery.
We need them.
We need all the muscle we have. I flip the lever to let Bee out. We’re not going fast enough to cause her any damage as she leaps out and runs toward the fallen beaks, arms waving in the air to get the hidden operatives’ attention.
“Stop. Stop! They’re with us!” she yells so loudly I can hear her over the engine, but can they hear her over the bullets?
Fuck. I swerve off the road and bring the vehicle to a halt.
I’m out the door and running toward her, yelling for the gunfire to stop. No heroics Rue had said, but this is Bee. I can’t let her be hurt.
The earth trembles, and a screech batters my eardrums as a crabine bursts out of the ground to our left.
I barely have time to grab hold of Bee when it rushes us. My stomach drops, heart fit to burst because there is no escape.
The gunfire ceases for a beat, allowing the whoosh of wings to rise above everything, and Bee and I are suddenly surrounded by watchers, their wings flared like protective shields.
Gunfire explodes outside our cocoon of safety, and then silence reigns. The only sound is that of our breath and the rush of blood in my veins.
The watchers step away to release us, and a quick scan shows that the guns are gone.
“Bee?” Tumiel sounds odd, his voice strained as he reaches for her.
“Tumiel?” Bee holds his hand as he buckles. I grab him but almost lose my grip because his torso is coated in something wet and warm. The coppery scent of blood hits me. No…Oh no.
I hit the ground with my knees, cradling his limp body.
Blood coats my hands, bubbling out of the wound in his chest.
He’s been shot.
“No. NO!” Bee cups his face. “Tumiel. Wake up. Wake up. You have to heal. You have to heal!”
Rage blooms inside me. “He’s one of us! One of us, and you shot him!” Bee clutches Tumiel, sobbing and mumbling at him to wake up as I stand and stride toward the spot where I know the hatches are housed.
“Calm.” Erelim places his hand on my shoulder. “They are protecting themselves. If we want sanctuary, we must not be viewed as a threat.”
With Bee’s sobs echoing in my ears and an image of my friend’s glassy eyes in my head, it takes every ounce of my will to push down my indignant rage.
“We’re with Gabriel.” I rattle off the code.
“Gabriel sent us here for sanctuary. There are people on the bus. Supplies. Food. The creatures with us are called watchers. They’re celestials on our side.
” I take a breath, suddenly so weary that standing up is an effort.
“Please. Let us in. I can tell you what’s happened and why Gabriel hasn’t been in touch recently. ”
The ground rumbles, and an area several feet behind the gun hatches opens.
A voice booms out. “Humans only. Your celestials can wait until we have spoken to you.”
“We have an injured watcher here. He’s…He’s my friend.” My voice cracks. “Please, we need medical attention.”
Silence greets me for several beats. “You may bring the injured watcher inside. All other non-humans must remain above ground.”
“It’s fine,” Erelim says. “We’ll be fine up here. Take the humans in.”
My shoulders sag. This will have to be enough for now. “We accept your terms.”