Angel: The Beautiful Outcast [Book 1 - Escape; Chapter 3]

Angel: The Beautiful Outcast [Book 1 - Escape; Chapter 3]

Chapter 3 - "To Kill an Angel"

I flew through the sky, gazing down on the scarlet hued streets and houses of suburban Long Island as I soared to the concrete jungle of Manhattan. In the early Autumn morning there were few thermals to help my flight, and I was forced to use my wings more than I had wanted. Having not eaten breakfast, I already had little energy to spare. If I was going to be fighting - and I knew I was - then I had to stop off for a snack somewhere.

Now, let me put this into perspective. That show "Deadliest Catch" shows that the crab fishers eat close to four thousand calories a day. To fly in zero-thermal conditions for an hour, I may need three thousand of those same calories. McDonald's was looking really good as I was flying, let's put it that way. With no other options, I landed in the nearly empty parking lot of the Golden Arches.

I tucked my wings tightly to my back, hoping no one would notice as I walked briskly to the deserted drive-through. "Hello?" the heavily Spanish-accented voice crackled from the voicebox. "Can I take your order?"

The swiftness of the response took me by surprise. I guess others had walked up to the drive-through to order. Looking around at the impoverished state of the neighborhood, I probably should have figured it had happened. "Do you serve burgers now?" I asked, hopeful.

"Yes," the voice answered. I had expected to hear a "Si," but that was just me being cynical.

"Good. I'll have ten Big Macs please. And a large Diet Coke."

The voicebox was silent for a moment. I wonder what the lady on the other side was thinking, a skinny girl ordering so much for herself. Suddenly the Spanish lady's voice crackled through the speaker, telling me to come around to the first window. I pulled two twenty-dollar bills from my jean pocket and strode casually to the brightly lit ordering window. As I handed over the money and waited for the food, I found it impossible to resist saying something stupid. When the cashier handed me two large, loaded bags of fat and cholesterol, I smiled at her and said sweetly, "Don't worry, I'm not bulimic."

The lady gave me a confused look. "Oh, do you not know English that well?" I asked. With her face twisted in a repressed rage, I laughed loudly and flung open my wings, throwing myself into the air. I landed in Central Park fifteen minutes later, my left hand freezing from the overly-iced soda. 'I can't believe I actually did that,' I said silently.

Sitting against a small boulder, I opened the first bag of Big Macs and took one out. Staring at it for a moment, I sighed and unwrapped the package. "Eating all of these is like torture," I muttered, ripping nearly a quarter of the sandwich off in the first bite and chewing ravenously. Less that fifteen minutes later, I was throwing out two bags full of empty sandwich boxes.

Feeling refreshed, I checked the sky. The sunrise was nearly gone, only small signs of red hues remaining on the horizon. Around me, I could hear morning traffic begin to pick up, and the few pedestrians in the Park walking quickly to jobs or homes. Taking a deep breath I turned East, strolling purposefully to the same alley I had committed murder in.

That alley... it held something special for me. It was where I first flew, where I found Grace hiding from her parents. It was a place of memories for me, and I used it as a little home base while I scoped out the city. Today, though, I was going to the dirtied alley for a different reason. I knew the Hunter would be waiting for me there.

Just thinking of the Hunter sent small shivers down my back. He was tall, dark, and handsome; that's why I fell in love with him. But when we went out on our first date, in the great city of Paris, France, and I told him about my wings, he freaked out. His reaction was as evil as I had ever seen, and I still had the scars to prove it. Armed with only a steak knife and black belt-ranked karate expertise, he chased and fought me for eighteen miles through the city of romance.

I was terrified of the Hunter, and he knew that, but I was along stronger than he was. The confidence in my strength helped me press forward as I walked quickly to the alleyway. I expected him to be waiting for me there, alone, but from what I could hear he had brought company. Two others, Chasers most likely, were going over preparations for my imminent arrival.

Guns were ineffective, the Hunter told them, explaining that my reflexes were sharp enough to dodge bullets if I could see or hear the gun being fired. And I so could. 'So the they're armed with the only other possible weapon,' I thought. 'Blades.'

I leapt into the air as I neared the alley, deciding to come in from above and attack that way. I needed to get the Chasers dead first, and then I could focus on my fight. As I turned the corner into the alleyway, I dropped swiftly at the first person I saw, a young white guy holding a machete. "What an unwieldy weapon," I said, ripping it out of his hands and driving it into his shoulder as I lifted him high into the air. "Tch, look at that. Killed by your own weapon."

The first Chaser fell to the ground, landing with a crunch, and I divebombed the second man. Another young white guy, he tried to slash me with his army-standard dagger, but missed horribly as I stayed just out of reach. I grabbed his wrist as it sliced past me, and picked him off the ground with little effort. "Don't struggle," I chided, the frightened Chaser flailing beneath me. "You'll dislocate your shoulder." I laughed darkly. "Not like it matters," I said, swinging him into the side of the brick building facefirst and letting him drop to the pavement.

Standing calmly on the ground beneath me, the dark-skinned Hunter gazed up at me. "Are you gonna come to me?" I asked bitingly. "Or am I supposed to come to you?"

"Lucie, can't we just discuss things like adults?" he asked, his suave voice causing me to hesitate.

Shaking off the emotion I felt, I shrugged and pulled a handgun from my jeans, the same Colt I'd snatched from the Chaser almost a week ago. "I have five rounds," I said calmly, cocking the gun and aiming.

The Hunter dove away from the first two bullets, ducking behind the dumpster as a third smashed into the concrete. "Can I take that as a 'No'?"

"Take it as whatever you want, just sit still, damn you."

I cocked the gun again, flying slowly over to the dumpster to get a good shot. Suddenly, what felt like a wrecking ball smashed into me from behind, knocking me in a downward spiral. The gun fell from my hand as I crashed into the ground, knocking my head hard enough to make me dizzy. The Hunter stepped out from behind his hiding spot and grinned down at me, unsheathing a steak knife.

From behind me, someone grabbed my wings and pulled me upright, the bolts of pain coursing through my body causing me to writhe in the unknown person's grip. I slumped, exhausted from the pain, against the feminine body behind me, and a thought shot through my mind as I blurted it out. "An Angel?" I said, shocked.

The Hunter grinned as he used the steak knife to cut a slit into my tee shirt, revealing the scar he had given me on my left shoulder. "Yes, Lucie. You might recognize her, if you saw her."

Struggling to look over my shoulder, I caught a fleeting glance of dark green hair and a cold, ice blue eye. "Mary?" I asked, not wanting to believe it.

"Yes, Lucie. Only, I call her Angel now."

"Mary?" My mind raced as memories of Mary, my childhood friend, flooded through me. "I thought he killed you..."

The Angel let out a wicked laugh, twisting the ridge of wing hard enough to send me into spasms. "I don't think so, Lucie. But he will kill you, I promise you."

"Why?" I asked, my breathing ragged. I felt the steak knife cut into the skin of my chest, slowly penetrating into my heart. "Why?"

The Hunter shrugged as he let the blade sit in my heart. "You broke my heart, Lucie. So I'm breaking yours."

A drop of water fell on my cheek, and I turned my face to the cloudless sky. Flying above the alley, her hands covering her mouth to stop her from screaming, was Grace. "Run!" I called, my last ounces of energy devoted to keeping my own Angels safe. With a grunt of pain and exertion I threw myself backward, pushing Mary to the ground. "Run!" I shouted again, and with adrenaline coursing through me I kicked out at the Hunter, breaking his lower ribs and forcing the breath from his lungs.

I felt the knife in my heart shift, sending a sharp pain through my whole body as I turned to Mary. Pulling the blade from my body I drove it into her right arm, pushing it through the bone and drawing a scream of pain from the Angel's lips. Bleeding heavily, I collapsed onto my former friend, feeling my senses growing dim. The last sounds I heard were Grace's wings, flapping hard as she shot through the sky. 'Stay safe,' I thought, my final breath leaving my body.

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