Airel - Aaron Patterson [116]
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I stood in the doorway to the garage frozen in horror—my best friend, dead. I felt like throwing up but held it down. How could…? This was all wrong; this kind of thing was not supposed to happen. Reverberating through my bones, calling me back from the nightmare, I heard an unearthly scream that chilled me absolutely—and more than the sight of Kim’s lifeless body.
“Kreios? KREIOS!”
Images superimposed themselves on top of each other, of the man I was growing to love in the Book, and of the man named Kale who had abducted me and kept me prisoner. His marble skin, blond-almost-white hair, and his odd ways—he seemed so old, but at the same time looked so young. It all crashed into me with violence, stopping me.
I looked at my hand on the door jamb, but my mind saw beyond the physical. What I saw… Angels, half-breed offspring, demons, Ke’elei, an immortal race, Kreios, Kale, Airel. Could it be? Could he still be alive? Why had the Book withheld that part of its story from me? Kreios was not merely one of the Sons of God; he was an Angel, descended from heaven itself. He would live forever, unless a demon like the Seer killed him, which even then was not an easy task. Kreios was a fearless warrior, with more skill in battle than I could dream of.
“KREIOS!” The roar grew louder, and I would have stood there dumbly, frozen, if Kreios himself hadn’t yelled at me.
“Airel! Move! Get Kim out the back!” His voice had changed, ripping through me with the essence of deadly command. It had real physical weight to it.
My head cleared instantly, and I bolted into the darkness of the garage. To my utter disbelief, Kim was moving. Her head came up slowly, and she opened her eyes as I fell on my knees at her feet. Blue and purple bruises covered her face, masked partially by the gag of duct tape. Her left eye was swollen shut, yet she managed a smile.
“Oh, Kim! I’m so sorry. Oh baby, hang on!” I tore the tape from her mouth, and before I knew what I was thinking, I had torn through all that bound her to the chair, including part of the chair itself. I let my instincts take over, and shreds of tape littered the garage floor, along with whole chunks of chair.
Kim’s head lolled and she opened her eyes in a groggy slow fluttering. I felt sick to my stomach.
“Oh how I missed you, Kim.” She stood on very shaky legs, and I could tell she was not strong enough to run with me back to the SUV. The sound of a fight erupted from upstairs in the house, and I heard a scream of pain. The sound was like fingernails on a chalkboard. I cringed and took my bearings, looking around for a way out.
“Look,” I said in a whisper. “We’ve got to get out of here! I’ll explain later; so just go with it, okay?” Kim looked at me with raised eyebrows; she had no idea what I was talking about.
I grabbed her and threw her over my right shoulder, like firemen carry fire victims. Leading with my left side, I lowered my shoulder and, like the would-be hero, lunged at the garage door, punching through it like paper. Unlike the would-be hero, I tripped on one of the steel spars that reinforced the door and lost everything. Kim and I tumbled out like rag dolls. Oops. I scrambled to my feet and moved toward Kim—we had to get out of there before we were discovered.
Standing in the driveway like a bent-over zombie was what I could only imagine was Michael’s father. Stan. He was grasping a large curved black knife and had a wicked smile on his face.
“Going somewhere, Airel?” Black goo dripped from his mouth. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I must admit… I thought you would be taller.” He laughed and began choking and coughing. I knew I was out of time. I had to do something so I rushed him, again lowering my shoulder like a battering ram.
Stan was doubled over with both hands on his knees, spitting out blood or something worse as I made contact. The blow landed between his neck and collarbone. I felt a crack sound as something inside him broke, dully. That sound filled me with something that had to have come from all the warriors in the