A Guardian Angel (43 page)

“Remember to
swing high,” the former Decree soldier commented. “You're
only going to be able to down one by cutting its wings off.”

“Barney –
that's your name, right?” Andy asked. Barney nodded. “How
do you think we're going to stand a chance against them? Honestly.”

“Honestly?”
Barney echoed. “Because if we didn't, what else is there to
hope for? I don't know if you see what's going on here, but it is the
end of the life that we knew. Everything we love is at stake here. We
win or it's gone.”

“How did you
even get into all this?” Andy asked. “Why are you so
driven?”

Barney seemed to
consider the question for a moment, unsure of whether or not to
explain. “After the Tower exploded, I ran off and was saved
from dying of exposure by an old couple that ran a winery. They let
me stay with them for over a month, staying in the cellar where it
was safe. They grew on me. Then, they were taken. I aim to find
them.”

“In this
prison?” Andy asked.

“Yes,”
Barney stated. “And if not, then maybe enough people to help me
punish these bastards.”

There was a group
of thirteen of them poised by a wall of dumpsters in one of the
city's alleyways. The clouds in the sky had darkened and created a
dull gray ceiling over the world. The wind blew horizontal, tossing
leaves along in its many currents. Several of the creatures could be
seen leaving the gigantic metal structure that they had managed to
approach. They flew away fast, but Barney held his fist up to signal
everyone to wait until he was sure that they were gone.

He whispered in a
low voice to the men behind him. Of them included Davey and Andy.
“Alright. Once you see me leave cover, that's the signal to
come out. If all of us come out at the same time, we can overwhelm
any stragglers with our sheer numbers,” he instructed, moving
his hands as he talked. “And just remember, keep an eye to the
sky and another on your back.”

There were several
openings along the side of the bizarre prison. It looked similar to
the windows along an airplane to Andy, with much larger openings.
Just large enough for the creatures to fit through if they ducked
low. The air was sweet with the smell of coming rain.

There was a yelp
from behind the formation. Everyone turned around to see one of the
winged beasts dive into the last man in line. As it distracted itself
with him, all weapons were drawn into the militants' hands. They
cleaved and hacked until the thing was dead, wings dropping to the
concrete with a soft rustling thud.

There were several
more of the creatures swarming in the sky, flying around in mad
patterns as they scanned for the human intruders. Their anxious
movement made Barney sprint out of the alley into the opening. The
signal was given.

Many roars of men
and women came from all around as hundreds of people rushed out from
various nooks and crannies in front of the prison. The number of the
beings flying around through the air multiplied. They began swooping
down at the combatants, trying to get just low enough to swipe hard
at them. The Prevailers swung back, striking the beasts wherever they
could as they darted like crazed bees through the tinny air.

Davey navigated
around the people, swinging up into the air without any aim or real
purpose other than to act. Andy followed the deranged man as he
helped three others reach up and pull one of the creatures to the
earth. Davey twirled about to watch and make sure that Andy was
indeed still following him. They made their way through the melee,
advancing upon the prison.

The Prevailers
pushed hard against the winged creatures. Other than not being able
to fly away to safety, it seemed that the humans had a huge advantage
against their foes. So many of the beings had been cut down, their
corpses littered the ground like bright lights. Still, every one that
was killed, two more replaced it. They never seemed to stop coming.
The men and women held the group and pushed all the way up to the
portholes of the prison.

Davey disappeared
into one of these in the distraction of battle. Andy stalked behind
him as close as he could, navigating through the massive tunnel that
was the interior of the structure. The fight was carried inside,
militants and creatures flooded through the doors and continued to
swipe at each other. The noise was like a loud hailstorm against
metal, so many clicks and clacks and thuds.
The whole attack was a
suicide mission,
Andy thought. He knew it. Nothing drove these
soldiers other than a prideful denial that they were in fact
powerless to do anything. He chased after Davey, sprinting as fast as
he could.
I can rest once this son of a bitch is dead,
he
decided. Davey darted around, trying to make the path as difficult to
follow as he could.

The voice of the
Harbinger boomed into everyone's head. “I do not blame you for
your resistance,” it said. “I will not punish the whole
of man for your fear. As violent beings, it is only in your nature to
fight what you do not understand. To combat what you fear. As long as
you are afraid, I care not. You merely sever few of my thousands of
appendages. Hope is useless.”

“Come along
now!” Davey taunted back at Andy. “I can't do this dance
all on my lonesome! Which way shall we go next?” He turned
left, taking a much thinner tunnel that protruded into the prison's
courtyard.

Haley had calmed
down, her eyes far too sore to continue shedding tears. She embraced
the Guardian, sniffling. It hugged back to her as she clung onto its
tremendous leg. It pulled back and looked into her face with its
blank one.

“You will be
alright,” it said to her. The voice felt warm in her breast,
like cocoa on a cold night. After all the sorrow had washed out of
her, she started to feel better. Started to feel relieved. Her
breathing slowed and steadied from its erratic and raspy form. She
looked up at the Guardian with trust. Something had been communicated
through the tips of the creature's fingers as they had first touched
her shoulder. A powerful wave of empathy had been received and
transmitted back, and finally, she understood. Though she grieved,
she felt at peace. Something was so perfect about that moment.

It was all
shattered by the sound of struggle as two men ran into the opening.
They panted heavily, and Davey laughed like a jackel as he ran. Both
her and the Guardian looked far at the little opening in the wall
through which the intruders had entered. A beast-like grin sat under
the murderer's nose, through which he breathed aloud. Andy gained on
him, closed into range of his saber. As if he could feel the attack
coming, the psychopath dropped to his knees and allowed the blade to
pass over his head. He snapped back to his feet and spun around,
slicing at Andy's hand.

Andy cried out in
pain as he dropped the sword. He dropped to his knees and clutched
onto the flesh that so loosely stayed on his hand. The color drained
even further from his face as he saw who Davey now approached with
haste. His mouth slacked open and his brow furrowed. Tears of
realization filled into his eyes as he took in the whole scope of the
situation.

I failed,
he
thought.
Here she is, at his mercy. And I led him here.

“Andy?!”
Haley gasped in shock. The Guardian watched from behind her.

“This is her,
isn't it?” Davey asked, smiling with sickening delight at her
recognition. “This is the girl?”

“Don't touch
her you sick bastard!” Andy whimpered. He tried to rush onto
his feet, but the man with the knife dived at Haley and held her with
the blade at her neck. Andy caught the look of fear in the back of
her delicate eyes but watched as it disappeared. Her face was calm as
she looked at him. She smiled.

Davey turned to the
Guardian, a wild shade in his eye. “This is what you wanted,
isn't it?” he asked it. Spit flung from his lips as he spoke.
The Guardian said nothing, not even facing the psychopath as he
addressed it. Its blank face turned to Andy, who returned to his
knees in defeat. The former assassin felt as if the being read his
mind, collected all of his pain and displayed it before him. Andy
knew how this story was to end.

“I want you
to kill her,” Davey commanded to Andy. He stepped away from
Haley, all of the threat of Andy's rage diminished as he observed the
assassin's defeated countenance. Spinning the blade around, he
offered it to Andy.

With the knife so
close to his clutch, he thought so hard about grasping onto its
ornamental handle and slitting the sick man's throat. It would be as
easy as that. But he saw the true game at play. He stared back at the
Guardian, nodding. The creature nodded back to him. Andy looked back
at Davey's expecting face, so contorted with emotion.

“I won't,”
Andy said.

“Come on,”
Davey urged. “Just grab it. Take it and have some fun. Show
them how sick you are.”

“No.”

Davey looked over
his shoulder at the other two, then back at Andy. “Then I want
you to watch this closely,” he said, sneering at both Andy and
the Guardian. He walked back over to where Haley stood, and with a
wink and a tilt of his head, he cut her throat.

“NO!”
Andy screamed, rising from his knees. Haley looked at him one last
time. Andy saw the exact moment that the light of life left her
pupils and she fell over in a pool of her blood, dead. The emotion,
the pure white burning hate that seared Andy's bones tortured him to
move. His muscles stung with soaking fury as his skin felt aflame
with the fire of rage. He ran at the murderer as his vision blacked
out of his eyes.

Still staring hard
into the face of his attacker, Davey rammed the blade into Andy's
torso. The hitman ceased his charge, suspended in the air by the
murderer's clutch on the blade. The pain tore into him like
lightning. He could feel all the fluids in his abdomen flowing out of
the new opening. Davey grinned in Andy's face, turning to look at the
Guardian. He removed the knife, then rammed it back into Andy's
stomach. Over and over he repeated the gesture, stabbing the man in
the chest until he dropped to the ground. From there, he continued to
stab until he was certain that Andy was dead.

Silence befell the
two remaining lifeforms as Davey continued to stare in the other
being's empty face. “There you go,” he said.

The Guardian turned
and looked at Davey. The color rushed out of the man's face as he
felt the gaze of the eyeless creature. His smile dropped when he
truly realized what he had done. He couldn't look at the Guardian any
longer, instead stared at the grass. He looked with fond eyes at the
roots of the tree, stained in his victims' blood.

With a wide swipe,
it took Davey's head clean off. His evil, lifeless body fell to the
earth with a soft thud.

This time, the
voice was loud and alive with anger. It burned deep in the pit of
every human being on Earth, painful to behold.

“Your disease
has proven incurable,” it screamed. “Even in the face of
ultimate destruction, you choose to fight and harm rather than
cooperate and heal. There is no rehabilitation that will work. Your
punishment has been set. Nothing I can do will ever make up for your
crimes, no punishment great enough. I can only prevent them from
continuing. I shall wipe the world clean of your filth.”

Barney still fought
in the metallic catacombs of the prison when he felt the voice inside
him. As soon as it had gone, he stopped moving. So many others around
him had also stopped their fight at the sound of the words. The blade
fell out of Barney's hand as he looked around at all the faces. His
face contorted in fear, wrinkling as if he was about to cry. Although
he wanted to, he could not. He just sunk to his knees in defeat and
waited.

Tim lay dormant
within one of the bleach white cells only a few hundred feet away
from the raging battle above him. Tubes and wires had been hooked up
to him. He laid on the bed naked, his eyes twitching. He could feel
the voice, but he did not hear it. He continued to sleep.

From the sky rained
thousands and thousands of missiles. The air was torn and streaked
behind them as they dropped over every bit of surface they could,
blinking the human condition out of existence and out of memory.

-Epilogue-

Tim awoke in the
stark white room. The vibrant light of the walls and the ceiling
stung his eyes. His body felt weak as he shifted himself into an
upright position on his bed. He had no idea where he was. Everything
preceding his slumber came back as a rough blur. Only certain things
could be distinguished. He cleared his throat. He was thirsty.

He got onto his
feet. He thought for sure that his legs were going to collapse
beneath him, but with just a little patience, he found his footing.
There was a door that slid open as soon as he took his first step. He
gasped, but then excitedly moved toward it. Maybe there was some sort
of explanation behind the opening. Or at least something to drink.