15
The school grounds are quiet and seemingly deserted. I guesstimate that there must be a few thousand people here now. But you’d never know it.
Obi has done such a great job of setting up the refugee camp that even the new people follow the rules. They know not to walk out in the open. The amount of trash here is no greater and no worse than trash floating anywhere else in Silicon Valley. The entire campus is so quiet that I’d almost be surprised if I saw anyone here.
But once we get close enough to the buildings, we can see the dim lights glowing inside. The windows are covered by blankets and towels, but some have been put up sloppily, letting light and motion slip through the edges.
I step up to a window and peek through a crack. The room is jammed with people. They look reasonably well fed, some almost clean. I don’t recognize them – they must be the Alcatraz refugees. I look through another window and see the same. With this many new people, the whole place must be filled with chaos and confusion.
I see a guy through one window who comes into a classroom with a bag of food. He passes it out, and it’s gone in no time. He puts his hands up and says something to the people still reaching out to him even though the food is gone. There’s an argument, but the man slips out of the door before it can get too heated.
The lucky ones gobble up their food as fast as they can while the others watch with an intensity that’s uncomfortable. The crowd mills around, churning until a whole new group of people stand in the prime spot near the door, probably waiting for the next batch of food.
‘What are you doing?’ asks a harsh voice.
I spin around to see two guys in camouflage holding rifles.
‘Just . . . nothing.’
‘Well, do your nothing inside where the birds can’t see you. Weren’t you listening during the orientation?’
‘I’m looking for someone. Do you know where the twins are? Dee and Dum?’
‘Yeah, right,’ says the guard. ‘Like they have time to talk to every teenage girl crying for her lost puppy. Next thing you know, you’ll be asking to see Obadiah West. Those guys have a whole camp to run. They don’t have time for stupid questions.’
I can only blink at them, probably convincing them that yes, I was planning on asking some stupid questions. They point us to the nearest door.
‘Get back to your assigned room. Someone will be bringing food as soon as they can, and you’ll be shipped to a nice hotel room when it’s dark enough to hide the envoy.’
‘Hide from what?’
They look at me like I’m nuts. ‘The angels.’ One gives the other a look that says duh.
‘But they can see in the dark,’ I say.
‘Who told you that? They can’t see in the dark. The only thing they can do better than us is fly.’
The other guard says, ‘They can hear better than us too.’
‘Yeah, whatever,’ says the first guy. ‘But they can’t see in the dark.’
‘But I’m telling you—’ I stop when Raffe taps me on the arm. He nods toward the door and begins walking. I follow.
‘They don’t know that angels can see in the dark.’ I forgot that I know things about the angels that maybe other people don’t. ‘They need to know.’
‘Why?’ asks Raffe.
‘Because people need to know that angels can see us if we ever try to’ – attack them – ‘hide in the dark.’
He eyes me as if he read my thoughts, but of course, he doesn’t need to read my mind. It’s pretty obvious why it would benefit the humans to know the angels’ powers.
Raffe walks beside me up the steps to the doors. ‘You can talk until your lips fall off, but it won’t do you any good. These are foot soldiers. Their job is to follow orders. Nothing else.’
And he would know. He’s a soldier himself, isn’t he? A soldier for the wrong army.
It dawns on me that even though Uriel is creating a false apocalypse and is out to kill Raffe, that doesn’t mean Raffe is willing to help humans win the war against his own people. I’ve had plenty of humans try to kill me since the Great Attack, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to help the angels wipe out the humans. Far from it.
The guards watch us until we walk into the building.
As soon as we get inside, I have to fight a wave of claustrophobia. The hallway is crammed with people moving in different directions. When you’re my size, being in a crowd means all you can see are the torsos and heads of the people nearest you.
Raffe looks even more uncomfortable than I feel. In a crowd this tight, he can’t help but have people brushing up against his blanket-wrapped wings strapped to his backpack. We can only hope that no one notices anything strange.
He stands stiffly with his back to the door without moving in. He looks so out of place that I almost feel sorry for him. He shakes his head at me.
I try to blend in as best I can. We shouldn’t have to be here long before the guards leave the area.
Obi must have his hands full with all these new people. I sprung the Alcatraz rescue on them at the last minute, so it’s a wonder he even managed to collect boats and organize people to rescue the captives on the island. Of course he didn’t have time to prepare for them once they got here.
I imagine it’s been quite a day for the Resistance. Obi’s not just running freedom fighters anymore. He’s had to put together a refugee camp full of scared, hungry people while still keeping the organization as stealthy as possible.
I have my issues with Obi. I can’t say he’s going to be my best friend or anything, but I have to admit, he’s taken on a lot that no one else would.
I consider going deeper into the building to try to see if I can find Doc or Dee-Dum. The twins are sure to know where Doc is. But it’s too crowded and chaotic in here, and I don’t like the idea of being trapped in the middle of a building full of panicking refugees if something happens.
I’m about to tell Raffe we should go as soon as the guards move on when I hear my name. It’s not a voice I recognize, and I can’t tell who said it since no one is looking at me. Everyone looks busy having their own conversations.
Then someone else says my name on the other side of the hallway. Still, no one is looking at us.
‘Penryn.’
I see the guy who spoke. He has curly hair and wears a huge shirt that hangs on his scarecrow shoulders and a pair of oversized pants held up by a cinched belt. It’s as if he’s used to being extra large and hasn’t mentally adjusted to his postapocalyptic weight. He’s several people away from me down the hallway but still close enough to hear. I don’t recognize him or anyone around him.
‘Penryn?’ asks the woman speaking to the guy. ‘What kind of name is that?’
They’re not calling me. They’re talking about me.
The guy shrugs. ‘Probably some foreign name that means angel slayer.’
‘Yeah, right. So do you believe it?’
‘What? That she killed an angel?’
How did they know about that?
He shrugs again. ‘Don’t know.’ He lowers his voice. ‘All I know is that it would be amazing to have a safety pass from the angels.’
The woman shakes her head. ‘No way would they keep their word. How would we even know if they’re really putting a bounty on her head?’
I exchange glances with Raffe at the word bounty.
‘Some street gang could’ve just made this whole thing up to kill her,’ she says. ‘Maybe she’s one of their enemies or something. Who knows? The whole world’s gone crazy.’
‘I know one thing,’ says another guy closer to me. He wears glasses with a big crack on one lens. ‘Whether it was the angels or gangs or demons from hell who put the bounty on that girl, it ain’t gonna be me who turns her in.’ He shakes his head.
‘Me neither,’ says another man nearby. ‘I heard it was Penryn who saved us from that nightmare on Alcatraz.’
‘Obadiah West saved us,’ says the woman. ‘And so did those funny twins. What were their names?’
‘Tweedledee and Tweedledum.’
‘That can’t be right.’
‘I kid you not.’
‘Yeah, but it was the girl Penryn who told them to do it. She’s the one who got them to rescue us.’
‘I heard she threatened to sic her monster sister on them if they didn’t.’
‘Penryn—’
‘She’s a friend of mine,’ says one woman I’ve never seen before. ‘We’re like sisters.’
I lower my head, hoping no one recognizes me. Luckily, no one even notices us. As I make my way toward the door, I see a flyer taped to it. The only thing I catch as I pass are the words ‘Talent Show.’
I have visions of amateur tuba players and tap dancers. A talent show is an odd thing to have during the apocalypse. But then again, it’s an odd thing to have at any time.
Raffe pushes through the door, and we head back into the night.