Every door now has a feather dipped in red paint nailed to it. I guess one of the gangs won the turf war since we left and it’s all their territory now. I suspect there are still regular people hiding in attics and basements, though.
This is now the southernmost end of the peninsula that hasn’t been burned down by the fire from the blood hunt. Many of the walls are dark with soot, but the buildings still stand.
My sister rides ahead on one of her locusts. She calls out to people that the angels are leaving and that they can come out of hiding. She’s been talking more as her stitches heal, letting her move her jaw more freely. She’ll always be scarred, but at least her body will be fully – well, more than fully – functional.
She’s regaining some weight now, finally moving beyond broth and eating solid foods. Laylah worked on her, hoping that Raffe would say a good word for her to Michael when he takes over. Whatever she did to Paige, it seems to be working. My sister still prefers raw meat and doesn’t like vegetables, but at least she’s not picky about what kind of meat or whether it’s dead or alive.
My mother clatters behind me, rolling her grocery cart. It’s full of empty soda bottles, old newspapers, blankets, flyers, and cartons of rotten eggs. People come out of hiding more for the rotten eggs that she passes out than the flyers, but Dee and Dum have assured me that that will change when people start feeling more human and less apocalyptic rat.
Mom is convinced that the hellions and demons will be taking over soon, and by the look of the small crowd that follows her around these days, a lot of people believe her. They flank her with their own grocery carts full of junk and rotten eggs. They have no idea why Mom carries the garbage around, but people are guessing it could be useful someday the way her rotten eggs were useful, and they don’t want to take chances.
As I leave a flyer under a windshield wiper, I catch sight of Raffe gliding with Beliel’s old demon wings above me. He refused to take part in such ‘human work’ as leaving flyers on cars and doors but keeps an eye on us anyway.
The flyer is for another of the twins’ shows. This time, it’s a minicircus. They’re convinced that a freak show will bring everyone together, and have there ever been more freaks than at the End of Days?
My mom yells at someone behind me. I spin with my hand on Pooky Bear, ready to pull out my blade. But it’s just my mom throwing rotten eggs at someone who took an empty soda bottle without asking.
I run my fingers through the bear’s soft fur, telling myself to stop being so jumpy. The war is over now. It’s time to bring the survivors together and rebuild.
Even Pooky Bear still needs some convincing to trust. She still hasn’t let Raffe hold her since the blood hunt, but we’re making progress. He says she’ll eventually figure out that just because he doesn’t match the perfect image of an angel anymore, it doesn’t mean that he’s not worthy.
A horn honks down the street. The twins wave out of the window of their grand prize RV. There was an official winner, but somehow, they managed to end up with it anyway. I didn’t ask for details, but I’m pretty sure it involved gambling since their new slogan is ‘The House Always Wins!’
My mother is conking the thief over the head with the empty plastic bottle he tried to steal.
‘Mom!’ I trot back to see if I can keep the peace.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to my fabulous beta readers, who helped take the book to the next level: Nyla Adams, Jessica Lynch Alfaro, John Turner, Aaron Emigh, and Eric Shible. And of course, a huge thanks goes out to the readers of the Penryn & the End of Days series for their wild enthusiasm and support.