End of Days (Penryn & the End of Days #3)(35)

‘Sorry. You’re not even in the league, frankly. You’ll just have to settle for being classified as perfectly human like the rest of us.’

‘You’ve seen people more horrible than me?’

‘Oh, heck yeah. I’ve seen people that would make you run and scream. And one of them is a friend of mine. She’s sweet and kind, and I miss her. But Clara’s back with her family, and that’s the best I can wish for her these days.’

‘Her people took her back in?’ There’s disbelief in his voice but hope in his eyes.

‘It took a little coaxing, but not much. They love her, and that goes beyond what’s on the outside. Anyway, where are we going?’

‘Why should I tell you? You’re just pretending to be friendly to get me to do what you want. Then you’ll run off to your friends and tell them what a freak I was. That I actually believed you might not be repulsed by me.’

‘Get over yourself. We’re all in danger. We all need to work together and help each other if we can.’ That sounded a little too much like Obi. Maybe the twins are right and we do have something in common. ‘Besides, I haven’t asked you to do anything yet. I’m only asking for information.’

He assesses me through the mirror. ‘We’re going to the new aerie in Half Moon Bay.’

‘And then what?’

‘And then we hand you over to the angels. The New Dawn members can collect their bounty – assuming the angels are in a generous mood – and I get to continue living.’

‘All at the mercy of our invaders.’

‘Do you want to know what happened to my face?’

I don’t. It doesn’t seem like a story I want to hear.

‘They ripped it off for fun. Half my face. Skinned alive, I guess. It was the most excruciating thing I could ever have imagined. In fact, I couldn’t even imagine it before. You know what it’s like to have your life changed like that? One moment, you’re normal, the next, you’re a monster freak? Do you know that I used to be an actor?’ He snorts. ‘Yeah, I made my living off my charming smile. Now I don’t even have lips to smile with.’

‘I’m sorry.’ I can’t think of anything else to say. ‘Look, I know it’s been hard.’

‘You have no idea.’

‘You’d be surprised. Just because I don’t have a problem on the outside visible for the world to see doesn’t mean I’m not messed up on the inside. That can be just as hard to deal with.’

‘Spare me your self-centered teen angst. What you feel is nothing compared to what I feel.’

‘Gee, okay,’ I say. ‘You’re not at all wallowing in self-centeredness. I see that now.’

‘Listen, kid. I haven’t talked to anyone in weeks. I thought I missed it, but now you’ve reminded me that I really don’t.’

The music fills the car with old-world style before he speaks again. ‘Why should I help you when no one bothers to help me?’

‘Because you’re a decent human being.’

‘Yeah, one that wants to live. If I let you go, they’ll come down and kill me.’

‘If you don’t let me go, you won’t feel quite so human anymore. Being human isn’t about whether you fit in or look like the rest of us. It’s about who you are and what you’re willing to do or not do.’

‘Humans kill all the time.’

‘Not decent ones.’

Outside, the deserted world slides by. I guess no one wants to go near the new aerie. Word must have gotten around about that apocalypse party.

‘Did you really kill an angel?’ he asks.

‘Yeah.’ I’ve killed two.

‘You’re the only one I’ve met who has. What happens if I let you go?’

‘I return to my family and try to keep us all alive.’

‘Everybody? You’d try to keep all of us alive?’

‘I meant my family. That’s hard enough. How would I even begin to keep everyone alive?’

‘If the only one who can kill an angel can’t do it, then who can?’

It’s a good question, one that takes me a minute to come up with an answer. ‘Obadiah West can. Him and his freedom fighters. I’m just a teenager.’

‘History is filled with teenagers who lead the fight. Joan of Arc. Okita Soji, the samurai. Alexander the Great. They were all teenagers when they began leading their armies. I think we’re back to those times again, kid.’





27


We weave sedately through the abandoned cars on the road. Occasionally, I see people scurrying away when they spot our car. It must be a strange sight, seeing a luxury caravan cruising down the road. Not that everybody hasn’t already picked an expensive car to try out, but that phase mostly ended in the first couple of weeks. After that, it was all about keeping a low profile.

The miles pass as I try to figure out how and when my escape should happen. We’re moving too fast for me to jump out of the car. Just as I decide that I won’t be able to make a run for it, we slow to a stop.

There’s a roadblock of cars up ahead.

At first glance, it looks like a mutated, multi-angled scarab grown to fill the entire road. The cars are artfully laid out to make it seem as if it were happenstance, but my intuition tells me it’s probably tactical.