Velocity (27 page)

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Authors: Abigail Boyd

BOOK: Velocity
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“What―” I began but he cupped his hand over my mouth. A group of figures in hoods ran past our hiding spot. I caught the shape of masks over their faces.

We froze in straight positions in the narrow alley gap. Henry lowered his hand. His handsome face was still right in front of me, our noses almost touching, and I felt his hot breath against my skin.

He leaned down and kissed me unexpectedly. I felt heat spring to life and coil in my belly as his hands held firm to my back and his tongue flitted against mine.

Pulling back, he left me breathless. I allowed myself one small laugh. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Blame it on the hormones,” he said, rolling his eyes with a small grin.

I peeked out in the direction that the hooded figures had run. “Were they wearing masks? Like animal masks?”

“That’s what I thought I saw, too. Looked like a dog and a pig. I wonder what the masks are supposed to mean?”

“So we can’t tell them apart,” I said, swallowing hard.

I thought I heard singing on the wind. I turned my head and listened harder, catching strains of the tune in high, soft voices. I shivered and my temples throbbed. “Let’s keep moving. I’ve got one hell of a headache coming on.”

There were bodies in the middle of the street. The small amount of good mood we’d felt collapsed. Henry held my hand tightly and we crossed farther.

We saw another group of hooded figures chasing a girl, whooping and shouting. The sky was totally dark and I saw the black, fast-moving shapes of birds fluttering in the air. They seemed to be circling over the town.

A lone car was sitting on the opposite side of the street in a gas station parking lot and we navigated to it. Henry wrapped his jacket around his arm and with one swift thrust he busted out the driver’s side window. Glass sprayed out, tinkling to the ground.

We got in, but as Henry searched the console and the glove box, there was no key.

“What do we―”

He pulled out the screwdriver from his pocket and slid it into the keyhole. Jiggling the handle, he turned it, and the car started up without hesitation.

“Is this all residuals from your dark past as a juvenile delinquent?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned at me. “Yeah, I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve.” The car seemed to not be idling at full power. “Have to bring something to the table when I’m escorting an angel around town.”

“Does that mean that you believe me now?” I asked.

He put the car into gear. “My dear, I have no idea what to believe. I’m just going with it, moment by moment.”

“Good idea.” I kind of wished idly that I’d used the grounding stone to peer at his past. That thought reminded me and I realized I still had it in the pocket of my jeans. I made sure to grab it when I left the hospital. I felt the hard lump there, I didn’t know if I could use it but it was better to have it just in case.

 

CHAPTER 25

THE CAR WAS
definitely acting strange. All of the running lights were dim. The gauges were jerking back and forth.
I checked the radio, punching buttons, but it was only static. Using it seemed to make the lights flicker more than they already were.

“Where to first?” Henry asked.

“I’m trying to decide,” I admitted. I was playing the pros and cons of different options in my head. “I wanted to try the jail, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go there first, unarmed. They have guns and they’re in Thornhill’s pocket. Let’s head out of town and see if we can bring back help. See how far this thing extends.”

He turned off the road and headed towards the fastest route to get on the expressway. There was very little traffic on the road and a few abandoned cars. I didn’t see anyone else on foot. With every mile, my apprehension grew.

At the next stop sign, he waited, making sure no one was coming down the street. Seconds after we started back up again, a tremendous thud hit the roof. The woman in red―Ruby―climbed like a spider down the windshield. She turned, her hands like claws, and glared at me with eyes like hot coals. Henry hit the brakes hard, muscles in his arms straining so as not to spin the wheel. Ruby crab-walked up the to top of the car. The sound of huge claws scratched against the metal, and then she was gone, leaving a dent in the roof above our heads.

“What the hell was that?” Henry shouted, peering through the foggy glass.

“A relative of mine,” I muttered. He raised his eyebrow at me.

“First angels, now demon women?” he asked.

“I think they’re one in the same. They’re definitely from the same place, although I don’t know how Ruby got corrupted that way.”

We continued to the city limit. On the way there, I thought I caught one of the children from the orphanage standing on the side of the road. But when I looked back, the ghost was gone.

Just before the town sign was a line of parked cars. We could see where the black ended, a thick haze of dark fizzling out to the world beyond. It was light out there. A heavy feeling settled on my heart. I hadn’t expected there to be a wall.

“I don’t like the looks of that,” Henry said, echoing my thoughts out loud. There were people sitting on their car hoods, fiddling with their phones. Henry got out of the car. It sounded like the battery was starting to die, and the headlights were dim.

“There’s no way out,” one of the men told him as we got closer. The man was sitting on the bed of his truck with his dog beside him. The dog, a beagle, was laying on the ground, looking scared. “We tried shooting it, throwing things past it. We can get some of the objects out, but none of us can walk through it.”

“Do any of your phones work?” I asked. All of them shook their heads in unison.

Henry tried holding his hand out to the black haze. Skinny black worms, sizzling with electricity, snaked out and wrapped around his hand. When they touched him, I heard them make a zapping noise.

“Ow,” he muttered, shaking his hand.

“Somebody has to stop it,” said a young woman, pulling her shawl around her bony shoulders. “Someone has to come, right?” She looked at all of us with hollow, imploring eyes.

Henry and I looked at each other. There was no one else to stop it. We were the ones. We got back in the car, milking the battery for all it was worth. The blackbirds continued to swirl, dipping low across the road as we drove back. There was hardly any wind, and the leaves on the trees stood eerily still.

“We should go to Erasmus. See if any of the group gathered there when this started,” I said, staring out into the dark. “Even though my dad gave it up, I know he kept an extra key.”

“Do you think they’d go there even with Thornhill’s office right down at the end of the building?”

“It didn’t stop them before,” I said. “It’s worth a shot to check.”

###

As we got closer to Erasmus, I started to sense a steady throbbing sound. By the phone I was carrying, which was swiftly running out of battery, too, it said it was 10:45.

“I think something about the air is making the batteries drain,” I said. Henry was already eying the engine light warily, and he nodded. “It feels like a lot of pressure, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you hear that throbbing sound?” I asked.

“Now that you mention it, yeah. That’s really creepy. Like a big heartbeat.”

“I remember feeling it at the orphanage, back when we sneaked in. Never that strong, though.”

The block of buildings that housed Erasmus looked abandoned. Thornhill’s office was completely dark. There were no cars in the curb line in front, and it was usually packed. Thornhill hadn’t gotten around to taking Erasmus’s sign down. I knocked, but the door was unlocked.

“Callie? Gwen? Is anyone here?” I called out as we went in.

“Maybe they’re keeping quiet because they think it’s safer,” Henry whispered hopefully, putting his hand on my shoulder.

The emptiness I felt inside wasn’t just because of the lack of people or light. It felt like the scene of something bad, the energy of activity that had only just ceased. An iron smell hung in the air.

We did a quick sweep of the empty galleries. There was no sign of anyone inside. The empty painting hangers stuck out on the walls.

The door to the back room was cracked. On the ground in front of it was a dark smear. As we got closer, I saw that it was blood. The iron smell was much stronger here, masking something else. The smell of early decomposition.

My anxiety grew steadily. It didn’t help that it was so dark everywhere―I just wanted a little light to chase some of it away. The pressure against my skin was growing stronger.

“Ariel, wait here,” Henry said. He disappeared into the back room. A few seconds later, he came back out, his face ashen.

“Who is it?” I croaked, my eyes wide.

“Ariel―” I hated the smooth tone of his voice.

I ran past him and his horribly calm face, praying that it wasn’t my father. Death was strong inside. The small window let in the only light. The man’s body was already rigid, and a rat-shaped mask covered his face, with white whiskers and a pointed black nose. My heart pounded hard and painful against my chest. I carefully peeled off the ugly mask as Henry watched from the doorway.

It was Mr. Golem. He had been shot in the chest. A look of solemn calm was left on his gray face. On the wall, written in blood, was RATS GET WHAT COMING TO ‘EM.

“Theatrical,” Henry muttered bitterly.

I felt a tear drop down my cheek. A tiny breath of guilty relief whispered through me, at the same time that I felt sorrow hit my heart. There was a piece of paper beneath Golem’s hand. I carefully lifted his fingers, wincing at how stiff and cold they were.

“I can’t read this,” I said, squinting in the dark. Henry pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed it so the light would come on. SAFEHOUSE THRIFT was scrawled in pen. I could just read the words before the battery chirped a cheerful goodbye tune and shut off for low battery.

“What is it?” Henry asked.

“I think they’re all meeting at the thrift store,” I said. Then I ripped the paper into little pieces.

“So we go there next,” Henry said.

“After we get Theo.” I got to my feet. “I’m not losing another friend to this madness.” I expected him to protest, maybe point out that we’d be better off getting the others first, but he just smoothed my hair back and rubbed my arms.

“After we get Theo,” he repeated.

There was no time to even grieve for Mr. Golem. Shots erupted from the front of the building. A commotion was going on outside. We ran to the line of windows overlooking the street. A hooded man was standing with his arm wrapped around a woman’s neck. The woman was struggling for dear life, but although the man’s frame was wiry, he held her tightly.

“That’s definitely a gun,” Henry murmured, and I looked at the man’s hand. He pointed the gun straight into the air and fired, a bright blast that momentarily blinded us. The woman’s scream was lost in the noise.

We inched closer to the window. There was something desperately familiar about him, and my mind scrambled to try and figure it out.

“His tie,” I breathed.

“What?” Henry turned towards me

“The paisley tie It’s Mr. Vanderlip.”

The man lifted up the gruesome dog-faced mask he was wearing, and confirmed my suspicion.

“Oh my god, that’s Vanderlip,” Henry said, his hand on his mouth.

“I always knew he would go crazy,” I said grimly. For some reason he was the least surprising. He pointed the gun at the woman’s temple as she continued to struggle.

“There’s a back entrance to the building,” I told Henry quickly “Every store on this strip has one.”

“Let’s go.”

I nodded and we rushed to the back door. A bloody handprint had been slapped in the center. I pretended it was just another Halloween decoration and avoided it as I opened the door. The alley was filled with garbage and debris, but otherwise empty. Henry followed me as I navigated around out to the end of the street, crossed the road, and doubled back.

Now we were across from Vanderlip with his back to us.

The woman was pleading with him. “You’re my husband, how can you do this to me?”

“You are either with us or against us. When the master comes, it’s too late to choose sides.”

Henry and I exchanged a glance. He bent down, grabbed a large rock from the side of the road, and before I could protest, rushed at Vanderlip. Swinging sharply, he hit Vanderlip square in the back of his head. Vanderlip dropped like a sack of bricks, his gun clutched in his hand as his wife stepped away. Henry kicked the gun out of Vanderlip’s hand and picked it up.

“I’m so sorry, can we―” he began to the woman, but she put her hands over her mouth.

“You’re him. Rhodes’ son.” She turned around and ran away surprisingly fast.

“What’s her deal?” I asked, and Henry shook his head.

Cocking the gun, he pointed it at the back of Vanderlip’s head.

“What are you doing?” I shouted at him.

“He would kill us!” Henry said defensively.

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