White Shadows

Chapter 16 - Us And Them

***LUCA***

There are three times when angels really aren't supposed to answer their phones. One, when driving. Two, when in a business meeting. And three, when flying. So when my phone goes off in my pocket and shatters my concentration with the accordion intro to "Come With Me Now," my first instinct is to ignore it completely as I follow Russell and Jasmine over Ocean Beach. Then the tune gains its hard-rock edge, and I have to at least check the screen and see who's calling. Otherwise I'll probably find myself waving my wings in time to the music, which is also not recommended.

It's Mom and Dad. I reject the call and put the phone on vibrate, because as much as I want to talk to them and let them know I'm all right, that would be a lie. We're flying out over the ocean as an imminent hurricane whips the water into a froth below us, and the rain and wind are flying in our faces the whole way. Perfect conditions for us to lose an epic battle against the scrivs, if in fact they're hiding out in the Farallones like Lincoln said they would.

But maybe there won't be a fight. Maybe I'm psyching myself up for nothing. Maybe we'll get to the Farallones and there won't be a single evil light scriv in sight. Maybe they'll have all decided to keep on winging their way into the sunset, perhaps for a Hawaiian vacation - in which case, the islands would be safe in the hands of McGarrett and Danny and Chin and Kono...

Yeah, wishful thinking, I know. It was Alex who first introduced me to the concept of the wish hand never filling up faster than the one you shit in. And, like Alex, I'd much prefer to fill the wish hand first if at all possible, thanks.

We finally get within easy visual range of the islands, and we see a massive pile of scrivs rise between them. They're gathered together in the shape of some kind of giant monster, blackness flowing over them and gluing them in place. But if I look really closely, I can barely discern the shapes of individual scrivs inside the collective beast, all dramatically backlit by the low-hanging sun for a second before the clouds gather behind them, blocking the light.

Damn, that was a great description. I'll have to file and save that for later, to prove that Alex isn't the only good writer in our dorm room. Like, next time I write an essay comparing and contrasting capitalism vs. communism, if Blanco gives any assignments like that next year, I'm ready to ace it now, that's for sure.

The scriv-monster rises higher and higher as we fly lower, closer to the water. It makes surprisingly little noise, probably because it's an organic creation, not a bunch of metal plates and gears and computer chips. It raises one fist high in the air, ready to fight. Then it pounds that fist down into the water, sending a huge wave up to splash us. Or, it would splash us, if not for Garza, a water elemental, diverting the worst of it away from us. If only Juliet were here, then we could have at least one elemental of all six types - light and dark included. But between our many lights and darks, me and Mattia representing fire, and Paul and Gideon as land elementals, I guess we'll have to do.

At some point, I'll have to ask how it is that even light scrivs can put on this black-energy shape-shifting shit. Logically speaking, they wouldn't have that power at all, would they? Or maybe it's just nature's way of showing how closely related they are. Like with angels and demons, and how we're really not so different, other than a few tiny changes between our species.

But for now, I'll have to keep my energy focused on locating and exploiting whatever weak spot this big boy may have. There's always gonna be one. And when you take into account how it's a conglomeration of sentient beings...well, a team is only as strong as its weakest player. Something Paul and I found out the hard way last year - one of our basketball teammates, previously a star player (the only one I've ever known personally to give Paul a run for his money), ended up seriously falling from grace after a random drug test turned up traces of weed in his locker. He got expelled and sent back home, and without him, we found ourselves losing a string of games for the remainder of the season. In the end, we narrowly missed our shot at the Gold Country Regional Championship.