Angel Radio Page 3

  The rain started up again too suddenly, a violent storm that passed in short bursts. Lightning flashed and struck, thunder roared, and I found myself a car to huddle up in.

  But I didn’t sleep.

  I couldn’t.

  Not right now.

  The radio, its power low from lack of charging, could only manage a little more than a whisper, and I leaned my ear against the speakers.

  There wasn’t static, but there weren’t any words either. Just strange, strange sounds that carried into my sleep.

  3

  I DIDN’T wake up feeling any better, but at least the rain had stopped. The scent of wet asphalt calmed my nerves a bit, but the sight of the empty sky brought back my anxiety. I didn’t want to encounter another monster like that again.

  Still. I had to keep moving on. At this point that was my responsibility. Keeping myself alive—or the betterment of humanity. Or whatever. I just had to keep myself motivated.

  Walking is a really monotonous activity, especially if you’re all by yourself on a country highway. I kept the radio on. Broadcasts were becoming more and more frequent, though few were Angel Radio.

  Sometimes there’d just be a little voice whispering, “Checking, one two three. Checking, two three one. Checking, three one two.” For hours at a time. Sometimes music would play, though it was always an electric cathedralesque melody I had maybe heard once before. I enjoyed it all. Anything was good enough for me if it broke up the everything else of the world. Even the strange sounds that floated out of the radio, like moans and groans and screams, even they were appreciated.

  I ended up taking a bike one woman had left on the highway, her corpse having fallen a ways from it. However, I found it such a pain to balance my stuff while I rode that I quickly disposed of it.

  At one point I did step off the road. But only because the radio told me to. Emil’s voice crept quietly, even at full volume, and all I heard was “Stop stop stop stop stop” over and over. I did stop. But I probably would have without the radio’s orders—I had seen something move in the bushes. It looked too big to be an animal.

  I hadn’t seen many angels on land. There had been a few earthly ones, but they always seemed to be floating a few inches off the ground. It was either a new sort of angel or a bear.

  The woods were old and healthy, with a lot of space between the trees and only little ground vegetation. I followed the movement to a large white oak.

  I saw part of the mystery creature peep out occasionally as if it was shy, but I couldn’t make out what it was. I rounded the trunk of the oak slowly, feeling my way across the bark. The thing moved with me, always staying a little out of sight.

  Then I heard a gunshot and a guttural whimper that made me jump out of my skin. I instinctively flattened up against the tree and held myself calm for a few moments. Then I allowed myself to glance around the edge. Whoever had fired their gun seemed gone, but the creature lay dead at my feet.

  It was a deer. A buck. I reached out to examine it closer when a decidedly human voice cried out.

  “Don’t!”

  “What?” I said, unbelievingly. “What?” If anything, I was questioning if the voice was real, not why I couldn’t touch the deer corpse.

  He did not reveal himself to me, but then I could hear hesitation in his voice. “Don’t touch it.”

  “It’s a deer,” I said, resorting to the confused tactic of stating the obvious.

  “No it’s not.”

  I glanced down again at the body. “It’s literally a deer.”

  “No.”

  “I’m going to touch this deer if you don’t show yourself to me, you know.”

  “No!” He caught himself and spoke more calmly. “No, you don’t want to do that. And I mean no to both those things. You don’t want either.”

  “So you’re saying if I touch this deer, I’ll die?” I moved my hand steadily toward the deer’s head.

  “It’s not a deer, for the last time. And no.”

  “I’ll get sick?”

  “No.”

  “Is there any adverse effects to touching this deer?”

  “Not technically. Just don’t do it!” he said, alarm in his voice as I held my hand just an inch from the deer.

  “Let me tell you, suspicious forest voice, I don’t really feel like valuing your opinions for some reason.”

  “I’m sorry, but you don’t want to see me or touch that not-deer creature.”

  “You’ve got that wrong, buddy, because I think I’m going to do it ‘in about ten seconds.”

  “No! Don’t!”

  “One… two… thre—”

  “Come on!” he stressed. “Come on!”

  “Four.”

  “I can’t believe this!”

  “Five!”

  But at that very moment, he shouted, “Erika!” And I went dead still.

  “How the hell do you know my name?”

  “I’ve been following you.”

  “Thanks for that info and all, but it’s not like I say my name in my sleep.”

  “I’ve been following you for a while.”

  “Define a while.”

  “The sixth day.”

  I paused.

  “All right, creep,” I said, “just reveal yourself already.” But I had a nasty feeling I knew exactly who I was going to see.

  As expected the boy with the beautiful eyes emerged from behind a tree, holding a shotgun loosely in his arms.

  “You. Now what’s this about the dead deer?” I said, gesturing over to it.

  “It’s an angel,” he said with a sigh.

  “Looks like a deer to me.”

  “And it’s not dead.” Sighing again, the boy used his gun to lift the deer’s neck, and I saw it had one giant eye in the center of its head. The eye rolled itself open and looked between the both of us frantically. Then on its body a hundred more eyes opened and the deer-angel got back on its feet, bobbing in the air.

  “Stand back,” the boy said, and he shot at it again. It fell to the ground again, immediately returning to its deer facade. He shot a couple more times, reloaded, and continued to shoot.

  “And why is that angel pretending to be a deer again?”

  “To trick you, of course.”

  “Into touching it?”

  “Into coming into the woods in general.”

  “What would happen if I touched it, then?”

  “Some awful things.”

  I was beginning to feel fed up with his cryptic answers and brash ways, but I wasn’t going to let the only other human just walk away from me. I still needed answers.

  I asked him, “Are we going to talk about how you somehow snuck into my house, protected me but not my family, and followed me all the way out here or not?”

  “We’d be better off not discussing it.”

  “Am I supposed to just leave you here and forget everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ll continue to watch me sleep?”

  “I have to sleep too. But yes.”

  “I doubt you have a reason for this.”

  “There are reasons but… I can’t risk saying anything. Do not worry about me.”

  “I’m not letting you go.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I’m light on my feet,” he said. And indeed he was fast, dashing away behind a patch of maples, already gone from my sight.

  “What’s your name?” I yelled as loud as I could.

  From nearby the boy with beautiful eyes called back, “Gav!”

  “Like Gavin…?” I said quietly to myself, and from somewhere in the treetops I heard a voice whisper, “Yeah.” I had to resist the urge to laugh.

  I TRUDGED out of the woods feeling a bit annoyed and generally unnerved. It figures the only other surviving human I’d meet would be a weirdo stalker.

  The deer-angel had followed me to the forest edge, floating with a sort of ethereal quality. Sometimes I thought I heard laughter from back in the woods
, but I figured it was probably in my imagination. Or, I suppose, it may not have been. I was almost expecting something else crazy to happen before I reached my bag again.

  In an almost reassuring way, I was correct. At the bridge between the woods and the road, the deer-angel paused. Then it unhinged its jaw, let a great deal of steam out, and ran away. In the still-standing mist, I heard a distinct sound ring in my head—Orifiel—before dispersing.

  All right. Whatever. Angels were weird as hell, but that was a well-established fact at this point. Time to move on.

  The sun was starting to set, and out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw the occasional movement along the border of the forest—the deer-angel, I decided. Following me still. Was there a wild chance it was working with Gav? Yes. Absolutely. At this point, any ridiculous thought might as well be considered fact.

  Gav was in general weirding me out, which is a quality I tend to dislike in gorgeous people. And yet I was almost excited to see what excuse he had for breaking into my house on the sixth day of angels and holding me like that. I knew this certainly wasn’t the last time we would meet. I was going to make sure it wasn’t—there was no way I was letting him go like that.

  Sure, he could run about for now, pretending he was guileful—I liked to believe I’d best him by the end. I didn’t know what “besting” him meant yet, but I assumed I’d build a fantasy to explain it by the next half hour of walking.

  I like to pride myself on my tenacity. I can still remember what bad things people have said about me from years past. And I haven’t forgiven them. I guess now is the time for that, though. Now is a time for peace with the dead.

  It’s a terrible sort of way to be, I guess, assuming most of your personality. I’ve never been pushed to do much of anything. But I’ve always run with the assumption that I am worthy to be feared. That I am the sort girl that no one wants to make mad.

  But there was no way to know for certain, not anymore.

  The broadcast came with the setting sun.

  “HAVE YOU heard the next big thing?” Naomi was saying. “Farming! Everyone’s doing it. Good way to get food if you have the time for it. Vegetarian is definitely the way to go in times like these.”

  “Cowards,” Ada mumbled.

  “Especially,” chimed Emil, “with the state of game! It’s getting harder and harder to find wild animals. I, personally, haven’t seen a living deer in weeks. But hey, who needs meat? We can all go vegan again, just like the good old days! Or at least until we find some good meat.”

  “Humans have always been omnivores,” said Ada. She sounded like she was chewing something. “Did you know you can eat bugs? People thought that was going to solve global hunger. Bugs.”

  “No one’s eating any bugs! Plus, it’s not like we’re going to have to worry about hunger ever again,” Naomi stated. “I mean, there’s so much food just lying around everywhere. I guess we’ll probably die if we eat too much of the prepackaged stuff, though.”

  “I want to eat some bugs. Like ants and shit. And scorpions. They’re really good.”

  “Ladies, I feel like we’re getting off track,” Emil said. “Why don’t we—”

  “Whatever, gentleman,” interrupted Ada.

  “Yeah, okay. Anyway, Lucimi has a special report today. Lay it on us, Naomi!”

  “Yeah! So I’ve been doing some research lately into forest management. Did you know that trees can be harvested like any other crop? Did you know trees are a crop? It’s so weird.”

  “That’s not what I asked you to look into.”

  “I got sidetracked.”

  “All right, I’ll do it instead. Today, dears, we’re looking at Messenger angels. Just like Watcher angels, except they specialize in messages. They’re real lugs, sort of boring to observe actually. They don’t move much. Barely have a brain. Getting any sort of weapon to pierce them is nigh impossible, though I’d suggest something small and precise. Bullets, as always, are suggested. However, you shouldn’t even bother shooting a Messenger angel—they are relatively harmless, though capable of killing when provoked. Their role is what it sounds—they carry messages. How do they do it? Who knows? But they sure seem to be doing it constantly.”

  “Lengthy…. So unlike you, Emil!” said Ada, having found herself a drink to slurp. “But boring as ever.”

  “Let’s just get to the weather and finish this thing up. Ada? Your turn.”

  “Well, here in the city, we’re expecting a huge tide of Cherubim, so much so that I don’t feel safe leaving the house. Not much new to talk about. Uh, also it looks like the rumors were true. Lots of angels have been swarming the area lately, Messengers and Watchers and warriors alike. It’s like raining angels. Clouds of them, welling up. Annoying little tykes.”

  “And…?” said Emil expectantly.

  “And keep on the lookout for any bad news Bambis out there, as evidently some angels have been taking the form of adorable little woodland animals. We pretty much said it at the start of the show. Why were we even trying to do it subtly at the beginning if you wanted me to just say it right out at the end? Like yeah, we heard there’s this—”

  “Shush, Ada,” said Lucimi with the air of someone trying to laugh off a threat.

  “And thus ends the Angel Radio! Tune in tomorrow!” Emil said very hurriedly, and the program closed not a millisecond later.

  4

  FOUR DAYS in and I had a feeling I was getting close. The signal was impeccable now, more and more featuring upbeat electronica or softly familiar piano tunes. However, when there was nothing playing, there was still static instead of silence.

  I had seen Gav a couple times now, usually only when I changed roads and he was forced to run across to the forest on the other side. Once or twice, when I’d stopped to eat or rest I would see him leaning against a tree and patiently waiting for me to finish. He had yet to return any questions I had yelled at him. I kept yelling, though, finding the act incredibly therapeutic.

  It was only five minutes after I departed one morning that I noticed a rather curious sight off the main highway. A circle of angels, all of them the same crystalline sort, floating a ways off the ground and spinning.

  Careful to avoid entering the ring, I paced their perimeter. They ignored me, naturally, but at this point I was far enough off the highway that I thought there wasn’t much harm in continuing forward. As I approached a small town named Norwich, I realized it had been a while since I had seen any angels. And off in the distance, I swore I could see smoke.

  The radio was off at the moment, but this place was looking a lot like it might contain humans. And even if it didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt to check. I could use some new supplies anyway, like maybe a compact tent and a warmer coat.

  As I walked toward the town, the trees began to thin out, and I could distinctly see Gav walking along next to me. “Am I supposed to be heading here, or is this detour not allowed by your standards?” I called over.

  To my surprise, he answered. “You’re supposed to head here, yes. But I wouldn’t suggest it. Turn back.”

  “No.”

  “All right, whatever.” Such casual speech didn’t translate well when yelled, and Gav sounded pretty bitter.

  He followed me into the town, though still doing his best to remain in the shadows. He hid around corners and behind trees, moving only when I wasn’t looking and being careful not to make a sound. I had to question the point of it—and did—but of course he didn’t respond.

  I followed the smoke trail to a traditional sort of campsite conspicuously next to the woodlands. Three tents sat around a fire pit. It seemed to have been left in a hurry.

  “Maybe you should investigate those broken branches and footprints in the mud over there?” said Gav, but there was a very resentful edge to his voice.

  “Thank you, I would’ve seen that without your help, you know.”

  “Just follow the trail.”

  “Again, thanks for the obvious.”

&nb
sp; The end of the pathway came to a rocky clearing overlooking a little valley, and down in the valley was a village. It was made entirely of tents and tarps, and a couple people looked up at me.

  A man laughed. “We’ve never seen a drifter before! Come down, we’ll take good care of you.”

  Gav, naturally, had fallen into the shadows, though I thought I heard him hiss something as I made my way down.

  I fell into a euphoric state as a crowd of people parted around me. My journey was over, and I didn’t even have to track down the radio station. Or maybe the radio station was here somewhere? It might be possible that all the necessary equipment had been moved into one of the tents.

  “Hello, I’m Broderick,” said the man who had greeted me, shaking my hand. I looked about at the camp. It seemed to consist exclusively of tents scattered in roughly a circle. I could make out a small clearing to one side, but otherwise every tent was pitched directly next to another, leaving very little room to navigate. Broderick smiled warmly at me, but the other humans seemed nervous, watching me with dead eyes. Everyone seemed to be covered in a thin layer of dirt.

  “Hi, I’m Erika. Uh, Cantor. I can’t believe I’ve finally found a settlement of people! I’ve been out traveling on my own for a couple days now, and I was stuck alone for—well, you know. Since the whole angel thing,” I said all in one breath.

  He smiled. “I think you’ll find us very hospitable. We haven’t had any outsiders before, so everyone’s a bit nervous, but you seem safe.”

  “Very safe. I don’t think I even have the strength to lift most blunt weapons.” I chattered on excitedly. I honestly wasn’t even paying that much attention to my surroundings. Just knowing they existed was enough.

  He was leading me toward the center of the camp as we walked. “We’ll find you a place here. Everyone has a job they can do for the good of everyone else.”

  Suddenly a woman came forth from the crowd and roughly grabbed me by my coat and shook me around. “What have been the movements? Where are the Cherubim heading?”

  “Jaen, please. Get back,” Broderick snapped, and the woman retreated. “Sorry about that, some people are still a little… discouraged by the existence of the angels. Not fully committed to survival yet.”