Disclaimer: Same as chapter 1 and I'm not writing it all out again...
WARNING: SOME SWEARING – SO BE WARNED. READ AT OWN RISK.
All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.
'Thoughts'
"Speech"
Summary: Ariella reminisces about when she and Tegan met... MichaelxOFC
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An Archangel's Heart
Chapter Two
Michael had been unconscious for almost a week; she was running out of ideas, medication and food. She needed to hunt, she needed to scavenge and she needed him to come round, damn him! As he was, he was just dead weight; she couldn't allow that – if things continued she might yet have to take him and go….the thing about the world these days is there was no such thing as a 'free ride'.
Oh sure for the likes of Reisen and Whele there might be, but not for her and her own merry group. Tegan was of a like mind; they'd seen how things were at other settlements. The bigger they were the more corrupt the leaders; they'd always vowed they'd never be like that.
She and Tegan were tighter than blood; she'd killed her husband for what he'd done to her. Cutting the tendon in her ankle so she couldn't run; cutting the one in her right wrist so she'd have only her weaker hand to fight them…..all just to give him a head start.
Jesus, but the world had gone mad; though she'd seen worse than that since the night Gabriel blew that cursed horn of his. Jesus! She always smiled when she said God or Jesus; always said "pardon the pun" when others were around.
Because until that terrifying night many hadn't believed – she often thought what a double whammy it had been for atheists. Not only did heaven, God and angels exist – the latter two were pretty pissed at the world and out for vengeance. They must've been completely floored to find they were wrong and so epicly too.
Still, after despatching the eight-balls about behead Teagan and feast on her entrails, she'd made sure the injured woman wasn't about to expire. Weakly she'd told Ella what had happened; Ariella would never forget the look of dismayed betrayal in the other woman's eyes as she told her the man Ella had seen running as if Gabriel himself was at his heels was her own husband.
Apparently five years together was nothing when a coward's life was on the line. Well, he might be quick with a knife, but she was faster with both a bow and a sword. she didn't like guns; guns were noisy and drew attention you didn't want and usually from above.
But swords were silent, so were arrows - no need for any nasties to be nosy; yet quick enough that her enemy, or her dinner, never even saw death coming...until he tapped them on the shoulder and said hi.
She rose in one fluid motion so quickly and smoothly the woman winced, even as Ella looked around and then clocked where the injured female's treacherous partner had gone.
Gabriel might not be nipping at his heels, but what was to be his newest nightmare was...albeit not for very long. Ella wasn't the sort of predator who played with her food, or her enemies.
She'd caught him quickly; quicker than she'd anticipated in truth. When he thought she was one of the eight-balls, he'd gibbered, dribbled and pleaded for his disgusting existence to continue. She merely looked at him with a genuinely puzzled frown. Why would she spare him after what he'd done to the woman who'd whispered she was his wife?
Even as he suddenly registered she was human and prepared to fight, thinking he could take her, she kicked him onto his back. Her black shitkickers, her most prized possession along with her old leather biker jacket (both of which she'd had to grow into and the latter of which was still too big) left him with a cut to the face.
Those boots were evil; thick soled, heavy lace ups with a steel toe cap under the leather. she never laced them all the way so they were easier to get on and off in a hurry so, over the years, they'd pretty much 'moulded' to her foot shape...she'd just had them so long she guessed.
Oh sure they'd most definitely seen better days, but hadn't everyone? she kicked him again to make sure he'd stay down, and then dropped astride him. His knife in her hand, a knife she'd snagged without him even seeing her take as she'd flipped him.
He struggled - clearly not liking her being in control; but it was half-hearted as she held the knife close to his face. Ella sighed, already bored...and stabbed the blade through his right hand with one swift movement; pinning his palm to the hard ground. Next she did it to his left foot with one of her own small knives concealed in her boot.
He stopped struggling as he screamed in pain; she held a bloody finger to her lips "shhh; you don't want to fetch more eight-balls do you?" she murmured.
His scream immediately shut off to a pained gurgle. "Who…..who are you?" he whispered, his eyes wide and pupils blown in fear.
She leaned over him and smiled darkly "your worst nightmare."
He squeezed his eyes shut and small tears tracked from the corners down the sides of his face – she tutted at him "you left your wife as food for the eight-balls and yet you're only crying for yourself? That's not very husbandly is it?"
"I…..I…..I was going for help…"
She put the same finger with his blood on it to his trembling lips "you're lying; she's still alive and told me what really happened. If I was a cruel as you, I'd leave you as you left her – trust me, it's a rare few that can fight the eight-balls fully fit, let alone injured. But you're fortunate; I'm not as cruel as you."
She got off him and removed the knives; he got to his knees awkwardly, but before he could babble his thanks his head was rolling across the ground. As she wiped her blades on her old, torn jeans Ella shook her head, murmuring almost to herself "no, I'm much more merciful than you were."
She'd gone back and taken Tegan to the caves they all inhabited now; though it was nothing like their home back then. Then it was just a big cave with a little shelter from the elements, and darkness to hide from any nosy enemies. There she'd nursed Tegan and helped her to recover.
After her there'd been others; some young, some old – most stayed, some moved on. But within three years she and Tegan found themselves in charge of a group of survivors. They'd all, including Tegan, wanted Ella to lead them. She'd baulked at that – helping people was one thing, keeping them alive was fine; but she was not a 'people person' and being in charge was not her style.
Tegan had tried her best to persuade her, for weeks; but Ariella could be as stubborn as any mule known to man, and refused to budge. Finally her friend capitulated and took on the leadership.
However, everyone knew, even if Ella herself wouldn't accept it, that she was the real Alpha leader; people always went to her first for advice, medical attention and Ella was in charge of those who took on the armed 'guard'/defensive duties with her. still, since she'd formed her 'Pack', along with MacDuff, she'd mellowed...a little.
Back in the here and now she got up with a sigh and winced; Jeez she must've been sat there for way too long this time – though she knew the others had given up trying to her to take regular breaks.
There were a few in their merry band she didn't trust that much when it came to Michael – to them he was an angel and therefore an enemy, she understood it even if she didn't agree with it.
But that didn't mean she had to leave him open to attack whilst he was quite obviously away with the fairies (as her mum used to call it when she was small). Besides, she'd decided that as she'd elected to bring him back, then his care was down to her and her alone.
She was wondering whether it was time to revise that idea and finally admit even she couldn't be in two places at once; to call Rusty to come sit with the archangel while she went out to scrounge up some supplies and do some hunting, when the Pack arrived en mass anyway.
"Hey Ella, can we come in?" Little Saska's eyes were huge in her tiny face and her gaze was clamped to the Archangel resting alongside Ariella's well used old sofa. It had been everything from a bed to a seat to even a medical table over the years.
It was so old now that you kind of sank into it when you sat on it but Ella, unlike everyone else when they scavenged large stuff, refused to replace it. Her 'Pack' as they were known at the Post, the strange, stray, parentless kids she took in and had all but adopted, and MacDuff (the closest she would ever get to reuniting with her brother in this lifetime she was sure), all joked it was trying to eat them as they often struggled to escape it's clingy embrace.
She grinned as first Saska's face, and then the rest of the 'Pack' as they began to appear; soon all ten were in the room. They sat down almost as one – ranged in a semi-circle before her. The way they would work as a single unit often freaked people out; but she knew they did so as it was their best chance of survival, especially if she wasn't there to help or protect them.
Right now though, she continued working as she kept her senses trained to the heavenly male next to her; tapping at the keyboard in front of her, checking their perimeters even as she waited for whoever had been nominated to be their speaker. Though she was fairly sure that, as usual, it would be the oldest of them; Rusty.
Aged twelve, he was the unofficial leader, protector and spokesperson for the band of ten orphans that Ariella had insisted be taken in by their settlement, as each one had been found. If she had her own Beta in the close knit group she called her 'Pack', it would be Rusty.
Trustworthy; resilient and wiser than his years, he was a leader of the future. But, unlike the spoilt dictators that controlled Vega, he would be fair and kind – just like she and Tegan. He might even lead the Post; she hoped so – he'd be good for it.
She'd named their small settlement Phoenix Post – Tegan had wanted to call it territory, but Ariella had pointed out that that would only draw the attention of Vega. The whole reason of setting camp where they did, for her at least, was not just because the cave was already there; nor the ease to carve the sandstone into the complex rabbit warren of narrow tunnels and low ceilinged rooms it was now – it was mainly because they were outside the regular sweep point of the Vegan military.
Reisen and Whele always made it sound like they were welcoming people into the safety of Vega as an act of benevolent kindness. But it was never that easy – whenever anyone entered the city they were immediately assessed; anything that would suit the majority, such as medical supplies, clothing and food were always seized for 'main populace distribution'; though many of those who'd got out said that anything truly worth having didn't ever seem to go the same way, despite it being taken.
Likewise if the military sweeps happened on a new settlement within their outlying territory, they would be 'encouraged' – repeatedly if necessary - to go to Vega. Hence the reason Phoenix Post was outside their area; and they did their best to stay under the radar of the ruling elite of Vega.
However, Ella had been known to have more than her fair share of run ins with the Vegan military. But as they'd always been returned in body bags - sans heads - with only one survivor to tote the corpses back in their transport, Vega tended to not try too hard to find them. With the eight-balls constantly testing their defences she guessed they had their hands full.
Oh she knew David Whele wanted her head on a sharp stick for daring to challenge his authority, but Reisen - King Prat as she liked to call him - ensured his partner in crime didn't win that particular vote...not because he was any better or more benevolent than Whele, but purely because he knew that to be seen openly attacking and murdering a few piss poor but independent settlers was not go to float well with the populace of Vega.
All the time the suffering masses felt their leaders were kind and well intentioned at heart, he and the other leeches could cling to power; but let those same suffering masses in on the truth and there would be no amount of soldiers, elite or otherwise, to save the senate from their violent wrath and bloody retribution.
So she and the others remained 'off grid' and out of Vega's way; even when they were spotted they could misdirect and lose the Vegan toy soldiers. So much so it was believed that they were actually residing in a completely different sector.
People who had come to them had been led to believe that everyone outside of Vega, or its allies, was basically toast. That the only safety they could hope for was inside Vega – however, the trade-off for that 'safety' was usually a lot more than most people wanted to pay.
They were like Ariella and Tegan – they didn't mind hard work, rationing; all the things to make supplies last as long as possible. That was understood. But what they did resent was that, unlike at the Post, those in charge lived in ridiculous luxury – whilst those in the lower 'V Designations' struggled to not starve or die of disease or injury as they were almost worked to death.
They saw Phoenix as the way Vega should be run; sure it had its faults - nowhere was perfect these days - but it was run as fair and even handed as it could be.
Their anger at being misled by Vegan officials only heightened Ariella's alarm. She pointed out that she didn't want their little settlement to come to the attention of the Vegan leaders any more than it had to. So far, thankfully, everyone had agreed and so they were still – to her knowledge anyway – largely ignored by Vega as being too much effort for too little gain.
Ella didn't fool herself though, she knew it was likely they were fully aware the Post was out there; but no one knew how many they were and they were buried in the caves – too much trouble to be ferreted out unless it became necessary. Of course with Michael now in residence that might make it necessary, should they find out; hopefully she could keep his presence a secret for as long as possible.
"So, what's occurring?" Ariella smiled at the kids she considered as much her own as if she'd birthed each and every one of them.
As one their heads turned expectantly to Rusty; he sighed, and Ariella's heart tugged - like her he was a reluctant leader and whereas she only had their little group and the guard detail, he had nine other children aged from three to eleven.
He glanced at Michael, then looked levelly at Ariella. "We got questions..."
Their substitute mother nodded and smiled "I'm sure you do...have at it then..."
Rusty nodded...