‘We can’t get everyone across before sunset,’ says someone in the crowd.
‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘We’re going to keep ferrying them for as long as it takes, because some of us will create a diversion and keep the angels occupied.’
‘Who’s going to do that?’
I think about that for a minute before answering.
‘Heroes.’
53
It doesn’t take long for people to decide whether to stick around and help or to take off and take their chances solo. A third of the people leave after they hear me in the yard. But the rest stay, and that even includes some able-bodied people who could have left.
The healthy ones who stay behind help the injured into cars. Even if they can’t be moved very far, we need to move them out of here, because this is the first place the angels will come tonight.
We’ll have to leave the dead behind. That bothers me more than I can say. Even the Fallen managed to give Beliel a burial ceremony.
‘How far away is the fire?’ I ask the twins as we walk into the adobe-style building that Obi used as his headquarters.
‘The south end of Mountain View was starting to get smoky when we left,’ says Dee. ‘We can check out the surveillance videos and see how far it’s gone.’
Surveillance videos.
‘Can we make an announcement through the surveillance system?’
The twins shrug. ‘We could probably make an announcement through the laptops and cell phones that we use as cameras. We’d have to talk to the engineers to make sure, though.’
‘Are any of them still here?’
‘They never left the computer room,’ says Dee.
‘Can you get them to set that up? Let’s get the word out,’ I say as we walk down the hallway to the computer room. ‘People need to know what’s going on.’
The computer room is cluttered with piles of portable solar panels, cables, cell phones, tablets, laptops, and batteries of all sizes and shapes. The trash can is overflowing with empty instant-noodle packages and energy-bar wrappers. Half a dozen engineers look up as Dee-Dum begins explaining what happened in the school yard.
‘We know,’ says one bleary-eyed guy wearing a T-shirt with a picture of Godzilla crushing Tokyo. ‘We watched it through the cameras around the yard. A couple of the guys left, but the rest of us want to help. What can we do?’
‘You guys are the best,’ says Dee.
It doesn’t take long before the engineers are ready for me to make an announcement. As the last of the camp abandons Paly High, we record my speech so that they can loop the message.
‘The angels are coming at sunset tonight,’ I say into the mic. ‘They’re hunting as many people as they can. The south end of the peninsula has been cut off by fire. I repeat, the south end of the peninsula has been cut off by fire. Go to the Golden Gate Bridge – we’re sending people there to help you cross. If you’re willing and able, come to the East Bay Bridge to distract the angels and give the others a chance at life. We could use all the fighters we can get.’
I take a deep breath. ‘For you gang members out there – how long do you think you can last on your own? We could use some good street soldiers.’ It hits me that I sound like Obi. ‘We’re all on the same side. What’s the point of you surviving today when tomorrow they’ll just come and wipe you guys out? Why not band together and have a real shot? At the very least, let’s go out with a bang and show them what we’re made of. Come join the fight at the Bay Bridge.’
I steel my voice. ‘Angels, if you’re listening, everyone will know you’re shameful cowards if you go after the helpless ones. There would be no glory in that, and you’ll just embarrass yourselves during the blood hunt. The real fight will be at the East Bay Bridge. Everyone worth fighting will be there, and I promise we’ll have a good show for you. I challenge you to come find us.’
I pause, not sure how to end it. ‘This is Penryn Young, Daughter of Man, Killer of Angels.’
That phrase, Daughter of Man, will always remind me of my time with Raffe. Raffe, who will be hunting all of us tonight along with his buddies who I thought could be my friends too. But that’s like a child expecting a hungry lion to be her fuzzy pet instead of being her killer.
I think I sounded confident, but my hands feel frozen and my breath comes out trembly.
‘Ooh, I like the killer of angels title,’ says Dum, nodding.
‘Are you sure this will work?’ asks Dee with a frown. ‘If they go after the Golden Gate—’
‘They won’t,’ I say. ‘I know them. They’ll come where the fight is.’
‘She knows them, man,’ says Dum. ‘It’s cool. They’ll come after us at the Bay Bridge.’ He nods, then frowns as the implications hit him. ‘Wait a minute . . .’
‘Are you sure that people will listen?’ I ask.