By the time I arrive in Chicago, I know Zella is alive and well again. She’ll be searching for me, but she won’t find anything. I know how to cover my tracks. I find myself on the sidewalk at the bottom of Sears Tower. It’s good to know where I am. They call Chicago the Windy City but down here, where everyone is surrounded by cement and steel, there is no wind at all. The clouds lightened as it grew closer to morning. The roads will be clogged with cars and it will be even busier than it already is.
I pulled my hair back into a low bun at the base of my neck and covered my hair with a cheap baseball cap. I keep my head low as I followed the crowds of people. I knew where I needed to go and how to get there. I just need to take my time and be careful. I saw a beautiful park in the city which made me stop.
Children were playing on the playground and I could hear their squeals of enjoyment as they swung higher and higher on the swings. A pair of twins with blonde hair in pigtails climbed on the small rock wall. Their parents watched from the benches as they sipped Starbucks coffees, which I could see the steam rise from. They kept glances at their watches, probably worried about being late to work. I wondered why their parents had taken them to the park this early in the morning. Children were children though. The trees were full of lush emerald leaves and now I could hear the wind ruffle them. I faintly remember this place, just a flash of a memory. Mom used to take me here all the time. Oh, Mom…
I crossed five lane roads and high bridges. I took a risk and hitched a ride on the subway, even though I felt extremely uncomfortable in such a confined placed monitored fairly closely with lots of civilians. I put on big sunglasses and hid my face from the view of video cameras. A few times I thought I sensed Zella close by, but the feeling faded away. At the station, I see a wanted poster with an old school picture of me on it. I tore it down in disgust, crumpling it and throwing it in a trash bin nearby.
“Humans,” I muttered, a sick feeling pitted in my stomach. I shifted my backpack uncomfortably and leave the tunnel, again blending into a big crowd of people rushing to their jobs. I walked a few more blocks and stop. I stood in front of an old but fancy apartment building. At the door, I push button number eight and wait.
I may be too late. She may be at work. She may have moved away and given up on me. She may have died and I had no idea. The thoughts kept getting darker.
The speaker starts crackling and a voice emerges from the white noise. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” I declare and that’s all I say.
The speaker goes dead and I started to fear rejection, but the voice came back. “It’s not safe for you to be here, Aimee.”
I laughed. “It’s not safe for me anywhere.” I heard a chuckle and the door swings open. I climbed up the stairs and apartment eight greeted me with an open door. Once inside, the door closed and the deadbolt was quickly locked again.
Nowhere is safe, ever. Not from the angels, not from the humans.
Gray eyes flashed from the shadows and stepped forward. I smiled and ran into their awaiting arms. “Grandmother,” I whisper. She hugged me back and I inhaled her scent; roses and lavender.
She gasped and stepped back to look at me. “Aimee, my child, you’re hurt. Into the bathroom, now!”
I smiled and followed her orders. She has always been like this, ever since I can remember. The head doctor, being her, at the hospital gives out hundreds of orders on a daily basis but I really think it’s more her personality instead. To other people, she may seem cold but I know her. She’s a very loving person, and she worries a lot. I’ve probably given her quite a few heart attacks since I left.
YOU ARE READING
The Damned Holies (The Fallen Wars 1)
ParanormalAngels. Cute, little Heavenly beings, right? Wrong. The angels, all sixteen of them, have been exiled from Heaven. They fell to Earth and crave revenge on God, hurting the things He loves the most; humans. They're immortal, superhumanly stro...