The Rephaim: Burn Part 29

It was all for nothing.

Rafa scours the sky, still shot through with a hundred shades of amber. 'The Fallen are free so where the f.u.c.k's the Garrison?'

My palm throbs. It's still bleeding. I wipe it on my jeans, try to sweep my thoughts into order. 'I think it's safe to say we're on our own.'

Jude lets out a harsh laugh. 'We've always been on our own.'

'Yeah, and we're still alive,' Rafa says. 'Our old men are spineless-nothing new there-but this fight's not over, so how about we get back down there and do some damage?'

Jude stretches his neck from side to side. 'It's what we do, right?'

I look from Rafa to Jude and my heart hurts, too full of everything I feel for them. 'Let's just stay alive so we can keep doing it.'

Rafa brushes his knuckles along my arm. 'Let's stay alive so we can keep doing a lot of things.' And even in the midst of the dread and the uncertainty, I find a small smile for him.

Jude moves past us to where Mya is picking up her handguns and tucking them back in her jeans. 'You all right?' he asks.

She rubs her hip where she landed. 'I don't...I thought...' She shakes her head, frustrated that she doesn't have the words.

'Jude,' I say, 'Your shoulder.' The wound has torn open and fresh blood dribbles down his bare skin.

'You can sort it again in a second. I'll survive.'

I scour the beach, spot Zarael on a sand dune. Spindly hand on the hilt of his broadsword, surveying his handiwork. Secure in the fact the Rephaim are too busy fending off his army to even know he's there, gloating. Waiting.

The leader of the Gatekeepers thinks the Fallen are coming for him. He thinks he can overwhelm them like he did Nathaniel-oh, G.o.d, Nathaniel...I quash the anxiety, jam it down with all the other fears: for Ez and Zak, Daisy and Jones. Micah, Malachi, Taya. Daniel. We haven't lost anyone yet. We can't have: the pit filth would let us know. The thought flips my stomach.

'Triple-threat attack?' Rafa shakes out his shoulders. 'I'll take the neck.'

'Torso,' Jude says, which means I've got Zarael's legs. If we time it right, one of us should strike home. We take a second to fix his position and then shift, each of us pushing as much energy as we can at Jude.

I arrive in a crouch and swing where Zarael's legs should be- And meet air. I drop my shoulder and let momentum carry me into a roll, and then spring to my feet, blade up protectively. But Zarael's not here.

Rafa spins around, fizzing with anger. 'Where is he?'

Jude scans the battle. 'Gone. Let's get Nathaniel.'

Mya is already in the fray, trying to reach Malachi. He's battling a Gatekeeper, Daisy at his back.

I take a breath. Plunge back into the roiling chaos, katana in one hand, saya in the other. Jude and Rafa fall into position either side of me and we carve a path through the Immundi. I smell sweat and blood and sulfur. Traces of ozone on the sea air. The eerie light is constant now, even with the Fallen gone.

The battle is deafening. Shouting, grunting, the clash of steel meeting steel. Fists and boots pounding flesh. We push our way through, slicing and stabbing and stomping. Brutal and uncompromising. I block out all thought except finding a way forward. Focus on my breath, my technique almost instinctive. A century's worth of training coded into every muscle, every ligament, every movement. Rephaim strength flowing through me, a part of me as much as my hands and feet.

Leon and the rest of the Gatekeepers have formed a guard around the wall of dead Immundi. I catch a glimpse of red hair-Uri-and Ez, each fighting a Gatekeeper one-on-one. Zak is on my left. He hamstrings a h.e.l.lion so Taya can take its head. She's fighting left-handed.

So much violence. I shove down the horror and press on.

Leon materialises in front of me. He knocks an Immundi aside to make room, giving me time to block his broadsword-about five centimetres from my jugular. He's playing for keeps.

I strike his ribs with my saya and kick out his knee. He stumbles, lifts his blade with two hands to block the blow aimed at his head. Rafa and Jude are preoccupied behind me with Immundi, Gatekeepers or h.e.l.lions-or all three. The battle rages around us. G.o.d knows how many Immundi are pressing in, stepping over their dead and injured brothers to take their turn at us.

Leon and I are trading blows, striking, blocking and side-stepping each other. I attack with blade and saya-one deadly, the other a distraction-until Leon drops his double-handed grip and catches my saya. He rips it from my fingers and hurls it towards the sea without interrupting his attack. There are too many threats: I'm exposed now. I can shift, but then I'll have to fight my way back in again to get to Nathaniel.

Is Nathaniel even alive? Should I care? But I do. Whether I want to or not.

I swing again. Kick, block. G.o.d, I'm tired. My arms are heavy. My breath comes in sharp gasps. Leon's tiring now too, I can hear it in the way he grunts with each thrust and block. So when his eyes flick to the sky, I don't hesitate. I aim for his neck.

But I'm sluggish and my blade buries itself in his shoulder, right above his collarbone. He snarls with pain and collapses to his knees. I kick his wrist and he drops his sword. I try to rip out my blade so I can finish the job, but as soon as the katana comes free, Leon is gone and the next line of Immundi rushes me.

That's when I know it for sure. We're never going to get to Nathaniel. We're never going to beat this army.

'Jude,' I call out, even though it costs me air I can't afford.

For a few terrifying seconds, there's no response and it takes all the discipline I possess not to turn around and check he's still alive.

'I'm here.' He's closer than I expect, his voice strained. He's hurting badly.

I lock swords with an Immundi with a platinum buzz cut, knee him hard between the legs. 'Rafa?'

'I'm good,' he calls out, further away. He doesn't sound good. He sounds tired and frustrated.

The Immundi in front of me is on the ground, clutching himself. Another two leap over him to rush me. And then...

They look at the sky and recoil.

I slice open the nearest demon while he's distracted and the second one scrambles backwards. But it's not from me. And he's not the only one. All the Immundi are floundering, eyes skyward.

I risk a quick look.

Movement over the rainforest catches my eye. Dark clouds gathering high above the canopy, strange shadows flickering across them...

Holy. s.h.i.t.

Rafa props beside me, blocks a blade centimetres from my shoulders, finishes the Immundi wielding it.

'What are you doing?' he hisses.

Jude b.u.mps my shoulder as he joins us. I barely register the Immundi streaming around us. I can't stop staring at the ma.s.s below the clouds. 'Look.'

It's the Fallen.

The entire host, wings beating steadily, propelling them forward. They're in a series of V formations, like a fighter squadron. A lone angel flies ahead of the rest. Semyaza. A chorus of panicked shouts rises up from the demon army. The Fallen, as one, pin back their wings and dive.

Relief washes over me, and then a thought strikes like a sliver of ice.

What if they're not just coming after the demons?

What if they're coming after us too?

EVERYTHING BREAKS... EVENTUALLY 'Rephaim,' I shout. 'Fall back. NOW!'

I hear the call repeated further up the beach before I slip into the void, feel Jude and Rafa shift with me. We materialise at the rainforest end of the esplanade, halfway up the sandbank.

For a heart-stopping moment it's just us, and then the rest of the Rephaim materialise in groups of three and four, panting. Ez arrives close to me. She puts a hand on my shoulder to steady herself. 'What's going-'

She doesn't finish because she sees it for herself. Her fingers dig into me. I wait for the Fallen to wheel around, change direction to come at us, but the host stays straight and true. Plummeting towards the fleeing demons. A murmur of astonishment ripples through the Rephaim.

The orange sky flares brighter. The ocean churns and roils, flashes gold.

'Hold!' Zarael shouts at the Immundi. 'They are but two hundred. We are legion!'

The Fallen are almost on them. My breath catches. And then the angels plough into the swarm like hawks on a plague of mice. I stand with the Rephaim, watching our fathers hack and slash at our enemies with dull blades. It's utter chaos.

'They're free, then.'

Daniel stands near Jude. I can't tell if it's observation or accusation. Either way, he's as culpable as the rest of us-the Fallen wouldn't be here if we didn't all want it at some level.

'Where's the glory? Why aren't they manifesting?' It's Daisy who asks. She's slipped beside Jude to get a better view. Her right eyebrow is split, her blades dark.

The Immundi have stopped trying to get away from the Fallen. They've noticed the absence of blinding light now too. They're turning...and charging. And still no glory from our fathers. I don't get it. They're fighting Gatekeepers, h.e.l.lions and a seething horde of Immundi without glory. Unless...

'What if they can't light up?'

There's a tense pause on the boardwalk.

'Then they've got no chance of finishing this on their own,' Rafa says.

The Fallen are taller than us, stronger and faster, but without their trademark weapon they'll have to fight Zarael's army of Immundi the hard way.

I look to Daniel. 'We have to get to Nathaniel.'

'I know.'

'Then we have to help them.'

Daniel's hair is slicked back with sweat, his chest still heaving from exertion. 'You want us to fight beside the Fallen?'

'You got a better idea?'

His eyes skim over the Rephaim: Jude, Rafa and Ez. Daisy and Uri. Beyond to the others. I know how difficult it is for him, how the idea goes against everything he's ever believed about our purpose and our destiny.

'No,' he says, bitterly. 'I don't have a better idea.'

'Okay then. Let's focus on reaching Nathaniel-and take out as many demons as we can along the way.'

We've reached critical ma.s.s now, enough to push back the Immundi, buy us time to get Nathaniel out from under his macabre burial mound. Most of the demons smothering him are already dead or badly burnt, having taken the brunt of his scorching light before it winked out. We finally reach the wall of dead demons and Daniel takes the lead in digging through the bodies. Others join him and the rest of us form a circle, keep fighting off Immundi.

I don't know which job is more sickening.

I've never killed and maimed this many demons before-not even close. The sand is littered with their hands and arms and guts. Blood spattered everywhere. There's nothing glorious or bada.s.s about it. It's death, pure and simple. Mayhem. Not war. Slaughter. But then, that's all war is: killing and dying.

In fleeting moments between opponents, I try to glimpse the battle raging between the Fallen and the Gatekeepers: between former members of the Garrison and the demons who were their masters and torturers for millennia. The battle that was always theirs to fight. Never ours-or never meant to be.

I catch Rafa straining to see, and I know it's not that simple. He wants to be in the main event, not because he's desperate to bolster the Fallen's ranks but because we have history with the Gatekeepers too. The animosity between our fathers and their jailers became ours the moment the Fallen disappeared and we were allowed to live. Or, more to the point, the moment Nathaniel decided to make us into an army.

The movements behind me turn frantic.

'Move that one-no, that one.'

'Oh, no...'

I smash my sword hilt into the side of an Immundi's skull and look over my shoulder. Zak and Seth have dragged away the last Immundi corpse, stinking of burnt flesh to reveal- Dear G.o.d.

I can't quite comprehend what I'm seeing.

Nathaniel is facedown, crumpled, his face pressed into the sand. Completely still. Every bit of exposed skin is covered in bite marks-his hands, forearms, neck. His clothes are in tatters. Clumps of blond hair ripped from his head. But worse are his wings...

One is bent beneath him at an angle that's all wrong. The other is splayed, spattered with blood and gaping where feathers have been ripped out. The exposed flesh is pink, torn and clotted. The sand is littered with his feathers. He must have lost consciousness before he could hide his wings. Why else would he let them do this to him? Daniel is on his knees, lifting the angel's head, brushing sand from his mouth and nose.

'Get him to the infirmary.' Jude joins Daniel on the sand and feels for a pulse at Nathaniel's wrist.

Nathaniel's eyes flutter open. 'No.'

He's alive. The force of my relief takes me by surprise. Rafa-or Ez, I can't tell-pushes me out of the way, rough. Protects me while I'm standing, stunned, with my back to the fighting.

'The Garrison will come now.' Nathaniel's voice is stretched thin, every word an effort. 'I need to'-he swallows, grimaces-'be here.'

I stare at his mutilated face, taste bile. Did he sacrifice himself in the hope it would bring the archangels? Daniel helps him sit up. Nathaniel moans, grips Daniel's wrist hard enough to turn his knuckles pale.

'Nathaniel.' Jude waits until the angel's eyes are open again. 'The Fallen are free.'

He stares at my brother. His irises are faded, barely flickering. 'How?'

'We released them.'

He closes his eyes and lets out an exhausted, defeated sigh. 'Where are they?'

'Here. Fighting Zarael.'

Nathaniel lifts his head. 'Let me see.'

'Can you shift?' Daniel asks. He's still supporting the angel, a hand pressed between Nathaniel's broken wings to stop him slumping back to the sand. Nathaniel shakes his head.

'I'll help,' I say, and I don't only mean getting Nathaniel to higher ground. I crouch down next to Jude and hook my fingers around Nathaniel's elbow. I almost draw back: his skin is burning. I have no idea if we can even heal an angel-we've never had to try before. We let Daniel guide the shift to the top of the dunes. It only takes a millisecond, but it's long enough to feel my energy slam against a solid wall. I glance at Jude and then Daniel as soon as we materialise. They both shake their heads.

I guess not.

We position Nathaniel against the boardwalk fence, his back to the road. Giving him an uninterrupted view of the churning violence. Daniel is crouched beside him, silent and pensive. Nathaniel makes no attempt to move or hide his wings. They stay spread out either side of him, tinged pink. But Nathaniel's not worried about his wings: he's focused solely on his fallen brothers-in-arms.