God's Gone AWOL

[11] Almost a Happy Ending --Almost.

A pair of dusty hands clutched the rock, scrambling to reach the top of the steep grey slope.

"Atticus!" Frances called, "Atticus slow down!"

A gentle arm extended downward, helping Frances up so they were properly standing on the flat side of the hill. The ever-flowing winds of Purgatory were almost strong enough to knock both Atticus and Frances over. And the chill was almost enough to make them shiver. It was truly a bizarre and terrifying place, the likes of which neither had ever seen before.

"Where do you think she would be in all of this?" Atticus asked, gazing around at the blank, rocky landscape.

In response to his question, France did a quick three-sixty degree spin to take in their surroundings. Then they glanced down at the angel's chest. He had tucked Bentley's body into his shirt pocket for safe keeping. Now the little bat was safely slumbering beside his heart, like a tiny flame igniting Atticus' drive to press forward.

"Maybe by the gateway to Hell? Or the one to Heaven? If you happen to know where either of those things are?" Frances was clearly overwhelmed. "God, this place is terrifying,"

"If you wish to turn back, I will not stop you," Atticus told them.

"No, no. I gotta be here. I'm way too tired of sitting on the sidelines while this war goes on and on,"

If Frances said they were staying, then they were staying. Atticus had already left them behind once, and just the memory of their tear-stained face was enough to make him never want to do it again. Perhaps Reuben would resent him for allowing Frances to put themself in danger, but Atticus was used to disappointing people, and he would rather deal with an angry sort of disappointment than a heartbroken one. Frances was old enough to make their own decisions, and Atticus was old enough to respect them.

After a moment of looking around for any sign of Bentley, a distant series of sounds rushed past in the flurry of wind. It took Atticus a couple of seconds before he realized what the sounds were, but once he figured it out, he realized that they were unmistakably the sounds of angelic magic. And judging by the speed and force in which the blasts echoed out, it seemed like someone was trying to attack something.

That couldn't be good.

With Frances in tow, Atticus scrambled down the slope towards the sound.

Meanwhile, Bentley was still being beaten to a pulp.

Camael sent out one last burst of magic, dealing the final blow to the bruised puddle that Bentley had become. After this, she couldn't hold back anymore, and her spells were cut off as the coughing fit took hold.

Blood splattered across the rocks, painting a rather violent picture. More blood dripped from the edges of Camael's crimson-stained lips as she leaned against the cliff for support. She had used so much of her power in her attempt to destroy Bentley Hellbourne. But in doing so, she had sacrificed what remained of her own diminishing health.

"Camael!"

Seeing the blood, every single angel's eyes widened. Nathaniel took a quick step forward. reaching out to help his troublesome companion.

"It's nothing!!!" Camael had to spit out another mouthful of blood before she could continue. "This is just one of her tricks."

Down on the ground, Bentley struggled to raise her head again.

"It isn't," she said, breathing heavily. "This is all your doing, Camael. I haven't thrown a single blow. Don't you understand? The more you harm other people, the more you harm yourself. This is the way it has always been,"