An Angel With Scales

Chapter 5 - Isaiah 49:14-16

His heart felt lighter than it had ever been. The world around him looked different than before, brighter even. He felt happy, and for once his mind had no counter for it.

He could see the canyon road in the distance, if they could make it there they could lose their pursuers in the mountains. There were plenty of holdouts and safehouses that could be used to disappear. Noticing the temperature gauge starting to lift from its starting position, he pulled over underneath a tree that had overgrown the sidewalk.

He went back to Kess, who held him, but with much more care as to where she touched than before.

“Once we’re in the canyons we should be able to ride up to Alta. If they follow us, there’s a secret trail that switches back to Timpanogos cave. There’s a safehouse there that we can hide out in until this blows over,” he explains as they laid there together, surrounded by shelves of hardware and electrical components.

Kess nods, but has a curious expression on her face. She didn’t reply for a minute.

“This feels off. Like something isn’t right,” she says. “They would expect us to run for the mountains. Where are the patrols?”

“Maybe we got lucky?”

“Everything happens for a reason, I just don’t know what this one is.”

“Tender mercy?”

“It doesn’t feel the same. I don’t feel the spirit.” She began to get up.

“Well, we were just making out an hour ago. Maybe he left to give us some privacy,” he joked. She looked back at him soberly. He dropped his smile. He noticed that he couldn’t hear any shuttles in the distance. The radio was silent.

There was a loud thud from outside the van. His heart sank.

“Do you have another one of those rail rifles packed away?” He drew his coil gun.

“Just a plasma carbine, and some side arms,” she reached for the case hung on the wall of the van. She donned a helmet, its black ridges and contours giving her head a more pointed and angular look. He reached over to the shelf and pulled out an old painted over military helmet of his own, donning a respirator to match. He removed his jacket and started putting a combat vest on when there was a loud knock at the back door to the van.

”This is the Imperial Guard, Fort Christ precinct! Step outside of the vehicle with your hands behind your heads and you will not be harmed! This is your only warning.”

“It was a trap,” Kix stated.

“They must have parked the shuttles ahead of us so we wouldn’t notice them,” he peaked through the curtain to the front seat. A large Daxy in a hulking set of power armor was standing right in front of the van.

“Kess, we need to lose them in the Canyon. They’ll be chasing us the whole way, but they won’t blow up the van as long as they know I’m in here.”

“We can’t outrun them.”

“No, but we can force them into a cross country search. The shuttles have no way of landing in the trees.”

“They don’t need to land, they’ll just spot from above. They have us cornered.”

“That isn’t like you, Kess. Surely the Lord has prepared a means.”

“I fear the Lord has different plans for us.”

“We have to try,” he urged. She nodded.

”You have been warned. Breach it!” the voice outside commanded.

Allen lunged into the front seat of the van and jammed the keys into the ignition. The hydrogen cell revved to life and the engine spun up. An arc of plasma pierced through the middle of double doors at the back of the vehicle, and started working its way around the door latch. Kess kicked the door open before it finished and fired two bolts of plasma into the unsuspecting torch user’s leg. She then pulled the doors back shut as a hail of plasma fire sparked and melted away at the metal sheeting.

The back tires screeched, but the van didn’t move forward. The mech user had grabbed the car by the frame under the front bumper. Allen raised his coil gun and dispersed several metal slugs into the obstructor, shattering the windshield in the process. Most of the metal pellets ricochet or were stopped fast in the composite armor, but a single shot managed to collide with the pilot’s helmet, cracking their visor and jerking their head back. They reeled back and lost their grip on one side of the frame.

Allen immediately slammed the stick shift into reverse and hit the gas. The rear wheels squealed as the van wrenched itself loose from the powered exoskeleton’s grip. The van launched backwards, colliding into several things as it went. Kess could hear a yelp of pain and a string of expletives.

He shifted into first gear, burning the clutch as he revved the engine. The mech user lunged for the van, punching through the passenger window and clawing for the stick shift. Kess trained in her sights on the inner side of the upper arm and a lightshow of plasma strobed from the tip of her carbine. The Daxy inside screamed in pain as her arm began to cook inside the composite manifold.

They had picked up a decent amount of speed at this point and Allen began jerking the steering wheel to try and shake their unwanted passenger. The Daxy had recoiled her arm and was holding fast with the other. Kix took a moment to estimate their position on the other side of the van wall and started unloading plasma again. The first salvo burned a hole through the shelving and steel plating, the second started to burn the other arm at the armpit.

The pilot howled in pain and let go, tumbling behind the vehicle as they sped past.

The thrum of shuttle engines was present now and two could already be seen rising from the neighboring streets.

They just needed to make it into the canyon. Allen was chanting this to himself as he weaved through the street hazards. Kess opened the back door again and laid down as much suppressing fire as her energy banks could sustain.

A streak of plasma flashed from their right, melting away at the wheel well and evaporating part of the sidewall of the tire.

“Damn it!” Allen swore as the van started to swerve wildly, losing traction as he tried to correct it. The vehicle drifted sideways, coasting to a stop. Another flash of plasma took the rear passenger tire.

He looked out of the driver side window. They were there, at the mouth of the canyon. Past the guarding on the side of the road the ground dipped down into a ravine. Another flash. Shuttle engines were whirring overhead.

“Let’s run for it, Kess!” He shouted to the back and kicked his door open. He jumped to the ground and started to run for the trees. He turned his head back when he didn’t hear Kess catching up. Scanning around wildly, he saw her lurch from the back of the van, movements sluggish. She was clutching her side and dragging her left leg as she tried to move toward him.

“Kess!” He ran back as she fell to her knees, her eyes dull.
“Allen . . . you need to,” she took a shaky breath. From the small of her side to the end of her hip the scales were charred and bubbled.

“I’m not leaving you, that’s too much of a cliche! Get up!” Allen commanded, grabbing her forearm and trying to support her frame.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed out.

“I won’t make it on my own,” he screamed in frustration. Her eyes were losing focus, her consciousness shutting down to regulate the pain.

He pulled out his radio, knowing that it no longer mattered if they tracked him, and started shouting into the void.

“Mayday, Mayday! This maintenance tech, Allen Jensen, requesting backup on my position! My companion is injured and we cannot shake our pursuers! If you are out there, Zion, please respond! God . . . please . . . “ he cried out, but he knew that it was impossible for anyone to answer as quickly as he needed.

This was it. Allen knew it. There was no making it out.

As Kess slumped forward, Allan looked at the shuttles circling in, their side bays opening up to drop troops. He looked at the van, trashed and scorched.

He raised his coil gun in one last act of defiance.

It took a few shots, but eventually his aim found the hydrogen canisters. The fireball lifted the hunk of scrap off the ground by a few feet, tipping it on its side, flames licking its contents.

The shockwave blew him off his feet as well. His ears rang as the first set of soldiers descended on him. He looked skyward, wondering where God was.

He was back in New York.

It was a Monday, and minute-man drills were over. He was walking back from a bodega with a bag of groceries under his arm. His charcoal suit was replaced with continental army fatigues.

“-sen! Hey! Jensen!” Elder white pushed through the foot traffic to his former companion. He wore similar attire, but the decals on his shirt indicated a different squad.

“Elder White!” They shared a brotherly embrace. They technically hadn’t been released from Missionary service yet; Zion had been making efforts to gather its saints back, but, with tensions mounting between the Union and the Empire, the Continental Army had started drafting every able bodied man they could get their hands on.

They exchanged pleasantries but, like with everyone else in the city, the mood turned glum.

“Did you hear the news?” Damian asked, looking at a television through a store front.

“. . . Yeah,” Allen drifted off, looking down.

“With the blockade up, there’s only a matter of time before they hit us,” Elder White said soberly. “I don’t understand why the government hasn't fought this.”

“They’re still hoping for peace,” Allen stated.

“The Empire has taken six islands off of the mainland and we’ve hardly lifted a finger to stop them. The only peace we’re getting is when we lose at this rate,” Damian replied bitterly.

“It’s going to be ok. The Lord has a plan, I’m sure of it.” It was a platitude, Allen knew it.

“God isn’t going to fight our war for us,” private White brought a hand to his forehead. “I want to go home, Elder.”

“So do I.”

“No, you don’t. I know you; you’re terrified of going back.” Damian chided.

“It’s where I should be. Better than off-world, with some woman I’ve never met.”

“Do you ever think back to those Daxy in Manhattan?”

“Sometimes,” he looked down. “I wonder if what we taught did any good.”

“Hey, they came back, didn’t they? I think the one was more interested in you than the-”

A siren started blaring. People in the street were looking up. What he saw made his heart sink below his stomach. A golden imperial carrier was lowering itself from orbit above the city.

“Men of New York City, do not be afraid. Be glad! We have come to liberate you!”

The rows of inlaid doors to the carrier bays started to fold neatly into their receptacles. A gravely tenor voice echoing from above.

“We will free you from the systems your society creates to keep you subservient!”

The streets, though markedly less full than before the civilian exodus from the island, were in chaos. The sirens sounded and the ground forces were scrambling to assemble. Allen and Damien sprinted through the streets for their rally point.

“We will free you from the oppression of your heritage!”

Sleek aircraft began pouring from the carrier ship in a planned array. The ships began dropping their payloads. Cloudy vapor was streaming from thousands of small canisters as they fell to the streets.

“We will free you from the weakness of your females.”

Allen coughed as the cloud washed over him. His vision swam as his heartbeat quickened. Euphoria clawed through his fear as his body was filled with a pleasant heat. His companion began to slow as well, breathing heavily.

“You will be safe. You will be loved,“ the voice finished in a gleeful tone, like a parent giving their child a gift. There was a glint of metal on the horizon as fighter jets began to sortie.

“You will be free . . . “

He awoke in a cell. His tools were gone and his pockets had been emptied.

“. . . pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death. Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.”

He could hear another man in the next cell, reciting rosaries. He waited for him to finish.

“You’re Catholic?” He asked.

“ . . . it was just the way I was raised,” his neighbor said, wearily. “Praying’s the only thing I can do at this point.”

“I’m Allen, how did they catch you?” He offered.

“Tim.” the man replied shakily. “They have my wife and kids somewhere else. We were doing fine hiding out in the valley, then suddenly the scalies were everywhere like a kicked hornet’s nest.”

Allen felt regret gripping his innards. He hadn’t expected there to be anyone in the valley during their escapades.

“I’m sorry . . . it was probably my companion and I,” Allen apologized. Kess was probably locked up somewhere too. He didn’t know if they would care to treat her wounds.

“You one of those Mormons?”

“I am a member of the Chur-”

“Fuck you! I didn’t ask for the whole name,” Tim shouted, his voice resounding through the cell block. He started sobbing. “Where were you? We came west because we heard it was the last safe place. That your people would take us in, even if we didn’t believe in your religion. And now, I’m . . . “ he choked.

“I’m sorry. Tim,” Allen said sadly. “The mission department keeps its ears to the ground for people coming our way. However you slipped past the empire, you must have slipped past us too.”

“To hell with you!” Tim hissed, “That doesn’t save my wife and daughter! You know that the relocation colony is just a crock. They just take the women somewhere else so they can put a bullet in their heads without us watching.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he tried to comfort the man.

“Have you ever seen the colony?”

“I haven’t seen God, either, but I choose to have faith.”

“Faith? Faith? You Mormons really are crazy!” Tim reviled him, spitting even though Allen couldn’t see him through the wall. “You’re no better than those lizard bitches. You think you’re so high and mighty just because your leadership planned better for the invasion.”

“You were just praying a moment earlier,” Allen pointed out.

“Old habits die hard. I just needed something to take my mind off all this.” Tim sulked.

“For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I will do what I can for your family.”

“I’m not going to hold my breath, asshole. You’re stuck here, same as me.” He could hear the other man lay down and start whispering his prayers again.

And so he sat, alone with his thoughts. How would they try to pry information out of him? Could he withstand a dose of pheromones? Strangely enough, he felt calmer than he expected, as if numb to the crushing reality that he was going to lose everything he cared about.

He thought longingly of Kess.

After some time an officer entered the cell block to collect him. He went in cuffs, listening to Tim's quiet sobs as they left.

He was brought to an empty room with a chair bolted to the floor. The cuffs were reattached to hold him to it. He was left there for an unknown amount of time.

Eventually a large Daxy in formal uniform stepped into the room, the low light glinting off of an array of military decorations on her suit. He didn’t meet her gaze.

“Well, if it isn’t Elder Jensen, come back to me at last,” the Major smiled.

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