Chapter 4
With the busy street life of the Strip bustling around him, Alex felt disoriented. The atmosphere seemed more aggressive than it used to be but perhaps it was just in his imagination. He looked around, hoping no one would recognize him.
Being out in public wasn't the smartest move—he knew that. But after three weeks raiding scraps off of ration distribution centers, he needed sustenance and he wasn't sure where else to get it.
Having been AWOL from the AA Corps for all this time, he was certain he'd lost all privileges. If he was caught now, there was a good chance they'd purge him too.
All these weeks, he'd racked his brain, trying to figure out how to find the rock structure. He'd managed to find a way into the derelict library, browsing through atlases and maps. He hadn't gotten anywhere.
Uncontained water leakage from a burst main had destroyed the majority of the library's inventory and random raids by eager larcenists had done the rest to whatever filing system there might once have been. After two weeks roaming through overturned shelves for anything useful, he'd recognized it was a futile endeavor.
Sure, he could just steal a Humvee and hit the road, but without any idea which direction to go, he realized it would be just as much of a fool's errand.
Noma couldn't help him, this much was clear. He hadn't spoken to her since the Stratosphere—which he took as a sign that his hideout had been well chosen. There were still a few places in the city he'd frequented in his teens that she didn't know about.
The number of people he truly trusted next to Noma rapidly dropped towards zero; with two exceptions. Ethan would be about as much use as Noma with what little information he had to go on. There was only one other person he could think of that might actually be able to get him somewhere but it was the one person he most wanted to avoid: Claire Riesen.
His plan wasn't elaborate. And he'd need Ethan after all to deliver a message. It wasn't fair on his friend, he knew that, but there was no way he could just walk into the Riesen residence and ask to see the Lady of the City.
Focusing back on his task out here on the Strip, he drew upon a skill he had hoped he wouldn't ever have to use again. Having lived as a V1 had taught him basic survival techniques. An apple snagged from a fruit stand here, a bag of dried meat there. He stuffed the assortment of poached goods into the canvas shoulder bag and hastily made his way towards his makeshift dwellings to devise a plan how to get in touch with Ethan without getting caught.
At which point the human saying that "no news is good news" started to have any merit, Michael couldn't tell. It had been too long. His anxiety over Gabriel's fate was ever mounting and no news was forthcoming.
It was his third meeting with Uriel in as many weeks, this time just outside the ruins of Los Angeles—apt for its name but not for its state of decay. Very few building structures were still standing and those that did were on the verge of collapse. The Extermination War had wreaked havoc here more than in any of the surrounding cities.
Their meeting place was an abandoned fallout shelter, the vestiges of a human war a century in the past. He knew Uriel had a fondness for relics of a bygone era but he doubted that stale cans of food and empty wooden crates would be worthy of her admiration. The choice of location puzzled him.
He sat down on one of the ramshackle chairs and waited.
He could sense her before he could hear her. A curious sensation and perhaps, he mused, the absence of his connection to humans that Lucifer had taken from him had resulted in a heightened acuity of his other senses.
"Uriel," he greeted her as she appeared in the doorway.
"I'm slowly getting tired of seeing your woeful face," she lamented.
"No word of our brother?"
She let out a theatrical sigh. "Why do you even ask? Don't you think we'd both know if there was?"
He had to grant her that but there was little way of knowing for certain. She challenged him with a disdainful stare.
"Tell me, why are you here, Michael? Had we not established that these little meetings were a futile effort?"
"There is no need for callousness. I am concerned about Gabriel. Are you not?"
"Of course I am!" she shot back. "Tell me, has the Chosen One been punished?"
"It may not be my rightful place to exact his punishment."
"Then whose? Lucifer's? Raphael's?"
Michael cocked his head slightly, remaining silent.
She let out a frustrated growl. "I can't believe you. He as good as kills our brother and you still protect him. Is he back in Vega?"
He fixed her with an unfeeling stare. "I couldn't say."
Her eyes narrowed at that statement. "You left the city and never looked back. I'm right, aren't I, little brother?" It was amazing how she could size him up in an instant.
"Is that so surprising?"
She gave him an approving grin. "It may be the first sensible thing you've done in eons."
The Agri-Towers were intimidating at night, which was exactly why Alex had chosen them as the place for his meeting with Claire. Literally no one ever came out here after dusk. He knew her well enough to say with a degree of certainty that she wouldn't be daunted by the eerie location.
From his vantage point, he watched her vehicle approaching, watched as she exited the driver's side and walked with steady steps to where his note directed her. He'd never questioned that she would come, though he'd hoped she would somehow manage to forego the company of her Archangel Corps escort that was undoubtedly shadowing her every move these days.
The metal grate he stood on creaked lightly as Claire ascended the stairs to the first irrigation platform. Senator Frost had designed the outside structures so that they could be accessed freely without them granting admittance to the tower itself. Perhaps a tribute to his own pretentiousness so he could show off his prime accomplishment.
Claire stopped at the top of the stairs, her eyes seeking out familiar shapes in the dark.
"Alex?" she whispered.
"Over here," he whispered back, edging closer.
She closed the distance between them in three quick steps, enveloping him in a tight embrace. He couldn't help but groan, the pain almost blinding him.
She immediately let go when she realized she was causing him physical pain. "My God, you're hurt. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he said, trying hard to make it sound carefree, and failing.
"What happened?" Her voice was taking on a panicked edge.
"Couple of broken ribs."
Her hands came up to lightly touch his upper arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I— How— Are you okay?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. Getting there."
She stared at his face, drinking him in, her nose inches from his.
"Alex." Her voice was full of longing and desperation. "I'm glad you're back. I've missed you," she said, and then her lips met his.
It was pure reflex to kiss her back, to get lost in her, to weave his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and draw her closer. Their yearning was second to none, but he managed to stop himself before he was completely sucked in.
He pulled back, breaking their physical connection. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
She studied his expression as if she wasn't sure which question to ask first. "Why did you leave?"
"I had to. Gabriel had to be stopped."
"He did this to you?"
"No. That was Uriel."
"Uriel? What—"
"Yeah. Michael and Gabriel, they have a sister."
"How did this happen? Alex, please tell me what's going on."
"Look," he said with some urgency to his voice, "That's not important now. I need—"
She interrupted him mid-sentence. "How is that not important?"
"I need your help. Can you get me into the city's archives?"
She frowned. "The archives? What for?"
"There's information I need that I can't get anywhere else."
"What information?"
"A rock formation. I need to know where it is."
"A rock formation?" she repeated. "You're not making any sense."
"I know," he conceded. "I must sound kinda crazy. And I'm going to explain it to you when I can. But I need to know if you can help me."
"Yes," she finally said. "Yes, I'll get you into the archives. Now, please tell me what's going on."
He gave her as short a version as he could, trying to ignore the tears streaming down her face when he told her about his face-off with the archangels and its aftermath.
When he was finished, his gaze sought out her face, trying to read it in the half-light. He couldn't quite discern the jumble of emotions there. His expression turned a notch graver, because he had a feeling they finally had opportunity to corner the elephant in the room.
He felt the urge to flee before she could change his mind. A cowardly move, he knew. "Claire, I have to go."
"Go where?"
"I can't tell you. It's better you don't know."
"No, Alex. How could I let you go after you're finally back?"
"I'll see you again, I promise. Tell me where we can meet at the archives, a place I can get to safely."
"You're really going to leave." It was a statement more than a question.
"I have to. I'm sorry, Claire."
He could see she was fighting back tears but she swallowed them down, then told him. "Meet Ethan under the old pedestrian bridge tomorrow morning at 10. I'll have the details worked out by then."
He knew which one she meant and nodded, then squeezed her hand one last time before he went to the flight of metal stairs. He turned around one last time. "I'm sorry about William," he said before he descended, not looking back for fear she might be able to stop him after all.