Fear Of Dark - XXI
'Men fear death as children fear to go in the dark' - Francis Bacon
Angel's fear was almost palpable as the band of warriors picked their way through the same back alleys they had walked little over twenty-four hours ago. Angel led the party with Buffy close at his heels whilst Willow followed several metres behind. The sense of deja-vu was overwhelming. This time, however, Willow's attentions were focused upon weaving protective charms around the soldiers, who were undoubtedly the more vulnerable of the group. It bothered Willow to consider the potential loss of more human life and so she had resolved to personally ensure the safety of them all as best she could.
Once the nature of the situation had been explained, the three remaining marines had taken little time to consider Buffy's plea for assistance in relocating the power source. Despite their lack of a leader or mission statement, they had almost fallen over themselves in a bid to be of some help to the Slayer. Angel could well understand their affiliation with Buffy, who was the most unlikely of heroes based on appearance alone. Her petite frame and deceptively sweet visage seemed to naturally evoke a desire to protect despite the fact that this was something Buffy rarely required. Angel could not help but wonder if in this particular instance Buffy was using this to her advantage. Since the scales of fate seemed to be tipped against them he felt he could not blame her in the slightest if she were.
The plan was for the gang to spread out into two groups and search the area for the power source in as little time as humanly possible. Once Buffy had been provided with a fresh set of clothing that Angel had 'borrowed' from a nearby store, she had set about with renewed vigour voicing her intention to be part of the operation. Angel had protested equally against Buffy's insistence but, true to form, the Slayer had remained stubborn. Buffy had promised that she would not undertake unnecessary risk to ensure the safety of the others if nothing else, and so Angel had been left with no other choice than to make peace with her decision. Furious, Buffy had reminded him of the numerous occasions she had been forced to battle with less than favourable odds on her side and some form of gaping flesh wound to boot. With a faintly amused smile, Angel had conceded and armed Buffy with a sword that should have been impossible for a woman of her stature to even lift. Buffy had hefted the weapon with the precision of an assassin and as little effort as though she were wielding a toothpick.
Angel stole a glance over his shoulder every now and again in order to observe how Buffy appeared to be faring. May had examined her wounds an hour before and discovered that the lacerations to Buffy's torso had almost completely healed over, leaving in their place thin white scar lines. The Slayer still limped a little since the damage to her ankle had been more extensive but even those visible wounds had faded. May had regarded Buffy with equal measures of curiosity and fear, but the Slayer had been given little opportunity to assuage either. As soon as the exam was done May had retreated deeper into the sewer tunnels without pausing to say goodbye to even Angel.
It was evident to Angel that Buffy was still in a degree of discomfort but her mouth was set in a determined line that the vampire knew better than to argue against. With her sword raised despite the lack of any impending threat, Buffy followed in Angel's footsteps. He found himself thankful for her presence and yet near incapacitated by his fear that this fight would prove her last. He swallowed hard to dislodge the lump that had risen in his throat as images of Buffy's blood soaked body lying on the tarmac flashed through his mind. Those were the images that had tormented him once their lovemaking was done, preventing him from slipping into the same comfortable sleep that had soon after claimed Buffy.
"We're almost there," Buffy whispered, more to break the silence rather than inform. Willow nodded and behind her she heard the simultaneous clicks as the soldiers cocked their rifles in readiness. Fear radiated off them in staggering waves but their eyes remained cold and focused. The words that sprung to Willow's mind were battle-hardened.
She shuddered as she recalled the various preparations the men had made before stepping out of the sewers to join the Slayer's quest. Brent, the older of the men at around twenty-eight, had murmured a foreign prayer into the crucifix that dangled from his neck before taking up arms; Grey, a hulking mountain of a man who radiated an aura of pride, had insisted on bulling his boots for around half an hour before they left, much to the annoyance of the others; and Jameson, the younger and less experienced, had slipped a small colour print from his pocket and raised it to his lips before concealing it again. Willow refused to pry into the subject of the photograph but the small tear the man wiped hurriedly away from his eye in the next moment left Willow in little doubt that it was an image of those he most feared abandoning. Mortality became a more terrifying prospect when there was the threat of loved ones left behind.
The small group filed out of the cover of the alleyway and drew to a standstill on the outer edge of the square that housed the cinema complex. The illuminated sign that hung above the building flickered erratically and occasionally rained down a shower of sparks onto the street below. Nothing else stirred within the shadows. Willow heard Jameson swallow hard over her shoulder as his gaze fell to the body of their fallen commander, whom they had been forced to abandon during the previous fight.
"It's not right," Jameson whispered, shaking his head and lowering his weapon, "he should get a shot at a proper burial… he was a good man."
"I don't doubt that," Buffy replied, her tone low and wary, "but right now we have to pay more care to the living. There are people trapped in the sewers and our first priority has to be to get them out of here. Just stick to the plan. We'll recover bodies if we get the chance."
Willow shuddered at her friend's use of the plural term, realising that Buffy expected further loss among their party. Narrowing her eyes Willow concentrated even harder at pouring her energy into the spells of protection.
"Willow, go with Jameson and Grey, stick close to each other and don't stray too far from the mouth of the alley," Angel commanded, "Buffy, Brent and me will take the opposite side of the street. If we don't turn anything up after ten minutes, we head back and try again another time. I don't want to spend any longer in exposure than we have to."
The group exchanged glances, their expressions varying from terror to ambitious determination. Buffy wordlessly handed Willow a dagger that she slipped from the band of her jeans and offered her friend a smile. Willow attempted to return the gesture but discovered quickly that even trying only caused her lips to tremble uncontrollably. Buffy reached out and squeezed the witch's elbow in reassurance.
"We'll make it out, Will," she promised, leaning in and wrapping Willow in a brief embrace. As the women drew apart, Willow sucked in a breath and then turned to begin leading the soldiers into the centre of the street. She was careful to step over the various debris underfoot that threatened to trip her but this time she made a conscious effort to refrain from identifying any. Her eyes scanned the ground, searching only for the small glowing orb that Buffy had described, and failed to register little else. The damned had now fallen quiet in her ears and, much to her own disgust, Willow had actually found some relief at this fact. She sensed her two companions close behind her and continued to move forward, eyes downcast.
"Let's go," Angel said grimly, taking the hand that Buffy extended to him and moving towards their target area. Brent followed, his gaze scouring the hidden crevices beside buildings and all other possible hiding places for any signs of movement. He had promised to provide cover for the Slayer and vampire whilst they searched, and was undertaking his role with dedication.
"That's where I was attacked," Buffy whispered, pointing to a dark stained spot on the sidewalk that appeared fresher than the others. Angel paused for a moment in recollection and then nodded. They both dropped to their knees and began crawling across the tarmac with their palms outstretched, hoping that if their vision failed them their fingers would not. Buffy worked tirelessly, covering the ground before her at a snail's pace. Once, her fingers grasped something hard and round that glinted a little in the darkness but when she had raised the object triumphantly to her face she had been disappointed to discover only a lost marble in her grasp. Frustrated, Buffy flung the object away from her and sat back on her heels. It was then she heard Angel's startled cry just several feet outside her peripheral vision.
Angel had risen to a standing position and was holding aloft a nugget of iridescent amber that hung from a tattered length of rope. The tiny object had drawn the gazes and relieved smiles of all the others aside from Brent, who suddenly let out a roar that reverberated off the brick of the surrounding buildings. Buffy sprang into action as Brent's rifle spewed a hale of bullets in Angel's direction, and the vampire was lifted clear off the ground by an unseen hand. She leaped to her feet and raised her sword to striking height in preparation to launch an attack. Buffy squinted, and it was then that the jackal came into view.
The monster dangled Angel from it's talons like a maggot on a hook and threw back it's head. A rasping laugh spilled from it's lips as it carefully moved to pluck the power source from Angel's hand. The vampire swung helplessly in Cerberus' grip, writhing in the air in a vein attempt to protect his discovered treasure. Before Buffy could react, Willow raised one hand to barely above shoulder height and the power source was suddenly snatched from Angel's fingers. The stone whistled through the air at alarming speed before coming to rest snugly in the palm of Willow's waiting hand. The witch smirked in satisfaction before breaking into a sprint that would lead her back towards the safety of the alley mouth.
Jameson was the first to react and began emptying the rounds in his rifle into the jackal's torso. After barely a second's pause, Brent and Grey recovered themselves and added to the fire. The sound was deafening but Cerberus seemed to show little reaction even as the bullets ripped into his flesh and exploded. His round crimson eyes only narrowed to the slightest degree as he appeared to realise that he had been momentarily bested.
Jameson and Grey took off towards the alley after Willow, upholding their vow to Angel to remain at her side at all times. The two men disappeared into the alleyway and the sounds of their weapon fire ceased. Buffy had little time to contemplate their fates; she could only trust in Willow's magical ability to see them all through.
"Angel!" Buffy called frantically. As his head whipped round to the direction of her voice, Angel's features contorted and melted away into the countenance of the demon. Buffy signalled to him with one smooth motion and then tossed her sword into the air toward his outstretched arm. Angel caught the weapon by the hilt and with a guttural snarl sliced through the atmosphere with the blade. Buffy's eyes were drawn to the flash of the metal and so she barely registered the sight of the demon's head tumbling from it's enormous body.
Angel was released and dropped to the ground landing deftly on the balls of his feet with the sword still in one hand. Cerberus' body collapsed into a heap, twitched for several seconds, and then was prone.
Brent visibly relaxed and lowered the muzzle of his gun, a hesitant smile playing across his lips. He was unsure of the extent of their victory and thus unwilling to commit to any real act of celebration. Angel sighed and moved to reunite himself with his lover, his arms outstretched in a demonstration of his eagerness to pull her into an embrace. Buffy stepped forward to shorten the distance between them but suddenly drew short as terror anaesthetised her reflexes.
Over an unsuspecting Angel's shoulder, the jackal demon loomed once more. The decapitated corpse of the creature clambered unsteadily onto it's hind legs and swayed briefly from side to side. From the stump of it's neck, a shapeless lump protruded and continued to swell until within seconds a head identical to the first had been born between the creature's shoulders.
Buffy's eyes widened in shock as she surveyed the monster. She could only watch in muted horror as Cerberus suddenly lunged towards Angel's head, his jaws hanging wide open and his fangs exposed. Buffy squeezed her eyes shut and listened to the sickening sound of barbaric teeth tearing through flesh that this time was not her own.