The fallen angels were gathering across the street, and doing it quickly. Some were standing, others knelt, and more than a few filled the sky just above. All of them had their bows loaded with arrows, toxic flames burning at the tips.
They were hunting.
Eliza peered around the corner just enough to assess their situation. They had been out to pick up a few essentials, but she wasn’t exactly surprised they’d run into trouble. Being out, away from the relative protection of the convent and their school, was always risky. The Fallen were everywhere.
Eliza was only fourteen, but when it came to fights with Abaddon’s evil minions, she had more experience than any of the rest of the quarterlings—except Jonah, of course. But he wasn’t here. And although it made her uncomfortable at times, when the other kids began to look to her for leadership, she didn’t shy away.
She focused on the one who appeared to be leading. His blackened, gnarled face twisted in anger, shouting unrecognizable commands to his underlings. Eliza had a hard time believing that this crusty-skinned, yellow-eyed creature used to be an angel.
Eliza saw the flaming arrow headed toward her just in time and pulled her head back. It crashed into the concrete wall behind her, disintegrating into dust and falling to the grimy street.
“Again?” she said to herself, quickly raising her arms and producing the shield of faith. It was the first gift she had been given, and she had learned to use it well. It took a simple combination of faith and concentration, and she was the best in Angel School at making it. She’d also received an angelblade last year and was still trying to refine her skills with the helmet of salvation.
“Get over here. Now!” she called out to Jeremiah, who, as usual, was about to charge ahead with no plan. She took two steps forward, causing him to enter the bubble of protection just before another arrow exploded into it, shattering harmlessly. “That one was meant for you, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jeremiah muttered. “I think what they need is a dose of the belt of truth.”
Eliza grimaced. “I think what you need is not to get killed. It’s your fault we’re in this mess anyway.”
A blond-haired boy on the other side of the alley was shooting arrows as fast as he could, most of them finding their mark into the fallen angels across the street. Frederick had to pull back against the wall, though, as a barrage of enemy arrows hit the wall all around him. He glanced over at Eliza and Jeremiah, behind the safety of the shield.
“I’ll cover you, Frederick! Go!” David’s voice called out from behind them. Eliza knew that he and Julia had fallen back slightly, and that Julia was probably protecting David with her shield too. Glimmering white arrows began to whiz past them and toward the charging Fallen.
“Now!” she screamed to Frederick. He didn’t need any more encouragement. He crouched as he ran and then dove across the pavement, rolling himself into the protection of her shield of faith. An arrow brushed by his head just as he entered.
“That one was a little too close,” he said, picking himself up quickly and preparing to fire again, this time from inside the bubble.
Jeremiah had taken a moment to concentrate and pray and was now standing with his feet apart as the golden belt of truth appeared around his waist. He began to utter truths about Elohim out loud, and each time a blast of white hot light came from the belt.
“Elohim is more powerful than all of you put together!” A blast ripped into the closest fallen one. “Elohim is our rock and strength!” Another one took out two of them at once.
“Good job, Jeremiah!” his sister said, encouraging him. “Keep it going!”
But as he was preparing for the next blast, a mangy dog walked around the corner and right in front of them. The dog’s ribs were showing through his shaggy coat, and he looked as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
He turned toward the quarterlings and barked. It wasn’t the bark that startled Eliza, though. It was his eyes—they were the same sickly yellow as the Fallens’.
“It’s time to go, guys,” said Frederick, his gaze locked with the dog. Eliza knew he was right. “We’re in over our heads.”
The sound of barking grew louder, and suddenly a horde of dogs turned the corner. Eliza dropped her shield, grabbed Jeremiah by the shoulder, and began to run. Frederick, Julia, and David did the same, doing their best to stay behind cover as they retreated.
Eliza hoped the alley would lead to another city street, and they could figure out a way to either lose their attackers there or stand their ground. What they saw ahead, though, almost stopped them in their tracks.
A chain-link fence ran between the buildings, less than fifty feet ahead.
“We can climb it or jump it!” Frederick shouted. “Come on!”
“Not all of us can do that!” answered Eliza. She glanced back at the animals, bearing down on them. Then she looked around frantically, noticing several darkened doors leading into the buildings that flanked the alley.
“The doors!” she said. “Inside!”
David was the farthest along and pushed his body against a door to the right. But it was locked.
“Let me at it,” said Frederick. Summoning his angel strength, he pushed with everything he had, popping the lock and shoving the door open. Julia and David followed him in.
Eliza turned to head toward the same door when Jeremiah hit the ground.
“Jeremiah!” she yelled, her frustration boiling through as she realized that he had tripped over his shoelaces. She stopped in her tracks, knowing they had only a few precious seconds before the dogs were on them, and then behind them, the fallen angels, who were clearly controlling the street animals. Yanking him up off the ground with one hand, she turned to the nearest door with the other, grabbing the handle and praying all at once.
“Elohim, please open this door!”
She turned the handle, and the rusty door opened. Eliza didn’t care where it led to as long as it could give them cover from both of their attackers for a few seconds. They rushed in, and Jeremiah slammed it shut behind them and turned the old dead bolt.
“The others . . . ,” said Jeremiah, looking up at Eliza.
“I saw them run into the other door,” she answered. “They made it in, so hopefully they’re safe.”
The dogs slammed against the door, causing both of them to leap backward. It sounded like they were taking turns banging their heads against it while barking as loud as they could.
“I don’t think we’re going to get out the way we came in,” he said, standing up and dusting off his jeans. “Let’s figure out where we are.”
Eliza glanced around, nodding. “That’s fine. But just remember, there weren’t just dogs out there. The Fallen were right behind them.”
“They were controlling the animals, weren’t they?” he asked. “Did you get a look at their eyes?”
“I’ve seen them do that before,” she muttered, thinking back to an encounter she and Jonah had had with a pack of cougars a few years ago. “Trust me, we don’t want to be anywhere near those animals.”
“This building seems smaller than I thought it would be,” Jeremiah said as he looked around the room. They were in a storage space jammed with all kinds of odds and ends—paint cans stacked in the corner, a yellow rolling mop and bucket, a desk covered with a random assortment of hammers, wrenches, screws, and nails, and a couple of desks wedged against the walls and beside each other.
There was another door in front of them. “Let’s see where this goes,” Jeremiah said, and before she could stop him, he flung the door open.
They suddenly found themselves in a brightly lit factory with assembly lines full of workers filling up an enormous warehouse floor. They were dressed in blue aprons and standing over tables with conveyer belts churning along as they picked and sorted various objects. Most were women, although a few men were there too. Their hands were moving fast as they focused on their work.
When Eliza and Jeremiah entered the room, none of them noticed.
“They’re not even looking up at us,” Jeremiah said.
“We’re still in the hidden realm, remember?” Eliza said. They had entered into that secret, invisible world, where the battle between Abaddon and Elohim takes place, when they realized they would have to fight.
Jeremiah pointed across the expansive room to a set of double doors with a red Exit sign above. “Looks like that’s our way out of here.”
“Yeah,” Eliza said, grabbing his elbow before he had a chance to explore anywhere else. “Come on.”
They walked in between two rows of workers, bent over their stations. They were sorting purses of all shapes and sizes that were coming down the moving belts. The bags were being grouped and boxed.
“Stop pulling my arm so hard!” Jeremiah said, jerking his elbow back. “You need to lighten up a little bit here.”
“Lighten up?” Eliza asked as she hurried them along, the thought of it impossible at the moment. “You want me to lighten up, after you almost got us killed out there? We were supposed to stay together!”
Jeremiah sighed, but he didn’t say anything.
“What is it?” she asked. It was normally impossible to get Jeremiah to be that quiet.
“I thought I saw something, that’s all.”
She eyed him. “Saw something?”
He cut his eyes toward her. “Well, someone, actually.”
Eliza folded her arms as they stood in the middle of the factory floor. “Spit it out. We don’t have all day.”
“I saw Mom,” he said, his lower lip trembling. “I promise you, it was her. She was across the street . . . she waved at me . . . then she walked off, and I . . .”
“Jeremiah,” she said softly, placing her arm lightly around his neck. “I’m sure you thought you saw her. There are a lot of people out there on the street, and I can see how someone could look like Mom, but—”
He wrenched himself away from her, glaring. “I know what I saw.”
“We don’t have time for this right now,” she said, frustrated. “Let’s just get out of here and find the others. Okay?”
They moved along toward the exit doors ahead. Eliza wanted nothing more at this point than to find the comfort and safety of the convent. But the door cracked open ahead, and light from outside came shining through. In front of the light, a sharp silhouette cut in.
Eliza and Jeremiah could see the outline of wings against the cinder block wall.
“Oh boy,” said Eliza.
Jeremiah was already looking around the room. To their right, in the corner of the room, was a set of steps heading down.
“There has to be an exit downstairs too,” he said. “Come on!”
He was pulling her now, hopping up onto the conveyor belt.
“Whoa, Jeremiah! Hang on!” she said, trying to keep her balance as they hit the moving belt.
He hopped down on the floor again, then up onto the next one. They crossed two more, moving in between the workers. Most of them continued doing their jobs, their heads down, with no idea what was happening in the hidden realm. Eliza saw one of them, though, a young man, look up right at her, almost like he could see. He reached his hand into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a necklace. He had a disturbed look on his face. On the end of the band was a cross, and he kissed it and closed his eyes, apparently saying a quick prayer. As Eliza jumped past him, she noticed a small tendril of light begin to extend from his body upward.
Good, she thought. We can use all the prayers we can get.
They leaped from the last table when the battle cries of the Fallen echoed in the room. The creature was calling to the others to join in the pursuit. Once again, Eliza felt the fear rise. One hit from an arrow and they would be dead.
She glanced back to see a group of them rising up, flying over the clueless workers.
“Get to those steps, Jeremiah!” she cried.
They finally made it to the steps and leaped down them three at a time, and Jeremiah pushed through a metal door. Flaming arrows blasted into the wall just above them, along with a spear for good measure.
It was colder down here, and the fluorescent lights revealed rows and rows of cars. They were in an underground parking lot.
“Let’s find the exit and get out of here fast,” said Eliza.
“Straight ahead!” Jeremiah said, and they began to run down the middle lane of the lot, toward the large exit sign where the road curved to the right and up.
Their feet slammed against the pavement, pushing along toward the entrance. Just a few more yards and they would be there.
They were almost to the end of the dark lot when a group of fallen angels rounded the corner, down from the street level, directly in front of them. Eliza and Jeremiah screeched to a halt. She could feel the pursuers behind them—they were trapped.
There were at least ten Fallen walking toward them, several with swords drawn, red flames flickering along the blades, licking the air with heat and fire.
“You two have given us quite a chase,” the one in front growled. “These city streets can be dangerous. Too bad for you, you ended up on the wrong one.”
The others grunted their approval as his eyes gleamed in the dim light. “But there’s nowhere to go now, is there?”
Eliza defiantly raised her hands and produced a shield of faith around her and Jeremiah. “Whatever happens,” she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling, “we both know who is going to win this battle, don’t we?”
Another fallen angel spoke from behind them. “Maybe so, but I also think we know who is going to win this particular fight.”
The laughs of the Fallen echoed off the low concrete ceiling. Eliza said a quick prayer to Elohim for support, and her shield grew brighter. She would need all of her strength if they were going to withstand the attack. But she knew that there were too many. After a certain number of arrow blasts her shield would be rendered ineffective. She would grow tired and have to drop her arms. She could pull out her angelblade . . . but they would simply outlast her.
They were done for before they even began fighting.
The faint sound of a motor went unnoticed by the fallen angels. It grew a little louder, but they didn’t see the truck until it was rounding the corner behind Eliza and Jeremiah. A yellow moving truck with blank sides, no lettering, pulled toward them. The Fallen behind them had to move quickly to avoid getting run over. They leaped or flew out of the way.
Eliza glanced down at Jeremiah and knew she had no choice but to, at least momentarily, put the shield down.
“Drop the shield right before it gets here, Eliza, and follow me,” Jeremiah whispered when their eyes met.
The truck was almost on top of them when she let her hands down. They ran around to its side, allowing it to pass them. The driver, a man with a hat pulled down low, pulled forward, unaware of the battle that was about to take place all around him.
The truck lurched forward, starting to turn upward toward the street. The fallen angels in front had to move out of the way now.
“Now, Eliza!”
He hopped up onto the back bumper of the moving truck, turning toward their enemies behind them.
“Elohim has already won the final battle!” Jeremiah cried.
A blast came from Jeremiah’s belt of truth, hitting the first fallen angel and slamming him against the wall before he disintegrated into dust.
He lifted up the handle on the door on the back of the truck and swung it open. It flailed wildly back and forth as the truck rounded the turn, but he was able to hold it open while Eliza dove in. He followed her, slamming the door behind him and landing on top of her in the darkness.
They felt the truck move up, out of the basement lot, and turn left onto a street. Remaining as still as they possibly could, they listened for their attackers.
“You got us out of there, Jeremiah,” Eliza said. “But they know where we are now. All they have to do is follow this truck.”