Toward a Secret Sky

“Get out your iPhone, please, Hunter,” Gavin interrupted.

“How’d you know I have an iPhone?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Because I read ‘sent from my iPhone’ on the bottom of your text last night,” he answered.

She took it from her pocket and handed it to him, no longer impressed. “It’s out of battery.”

“I know, but we can fix that,” he said. He flipped the phone over and pried off the back cover. He proceeded to remove all sorts of electronic plates, and I could sense Hunter’s fear that he was permanently wrecking her phone. He found the battery and slid it out of the case.

“Hands out, palms up,” he said to Hunter. He then placed the remains of her phone into her hands, clutched the battery in his, and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

Her face registered total dismay. I shrugged. I had no idea what he was doing. We watched as he walked back toward the door, where two young guys had just entered. He nodded a greeting and spoke to them. One of the guys handed him something and he took it, ducked back into the stairwell, and disappeared.

Less than five minutes later, Gavin reappeared. He tossed a small object back to the guy, nodded in thanks, and came toward us. He took the back piece of Hunter’s phone from her hand, popped the battery back in, reassembled all the layers, and snapped it shut. He turned it over, hit the power button, and it miraculously blinked to life with a full charge.

“How did you do that?” Hunter asked, her voice tinged with genuine amazement.

“Let’s just say you can do a lot of things with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter,” he said, flipping rapidly through colorful screens, “including charging dead batteries and blowing your face off. Thankfully, I only managed the first one.”

He held out the phone to Hunter. “I’m going to need you to put this down your shirt.”

“Um, what?” She leaned away from him a bit.

“I need you to stick this on your chest. We’re going to record your heartbeat.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Humans have a distinct heartbeat that demons and angels can hear,” he explained. “It’s harder to hear in some places, like large crowds. I want to see if the demons outside can hear your heartbeat if you’re crossing the Millennium Bridge.”

“So you’re going to send me across like a guinea pig, and you want my heartbeat recorded as a souvenir?”

“No, I’m going to send someone else across the bridge as a guinea pig, with your heartbeat in their pocket. I downloaded an app that uses the microphone to record your heartbeat. We’ll record it, and then set your phone to replay it very quietly. I’ll slip it in the pocket of those guys over there, and we’ll go back up and watch what happens.”

“How do you know they’re going to the Tate?” Hunter asked.

“They told me,” he said. “Now hurry up. I don’t want to keep them waiting.” He tapped the phone a few times to set it up, then handed it to Hunter. She held it under her shirt, over her heart, and we waited silently. When Gavin nodded, she pulled the phone out. He clicked the screen a few more times. He held it up, and we could see an animated heart pulsing. “Can you hear it?”

We both shook our heads. It must not have recorded correctly.

“Perfect,” he said. “It’s working, but I’ve got the volume low enough that humans can’t hear it. Now to darken the screen, and done.” He stood up and headed off after the guys who had just left the Whispering Gallery. When he returned, he motioned for us to follow him up the stairs.

Back on the windy Golden Gallery, we slid along the outside wall to the left, together this time, positioning ourselves in front of the Millennium Bridge.

“There they are!” Gavin said. He pointed to the young men as they walked across the St. Paul’s courtyard and approached the bridge. So far, so good. They were pushing each other on the shoulders and goofing around. One of them lit a cigarette, and offered to do the same for his friend. They entered the bridge, both of them now smoking and chatting away.

We watched as they crossed, unharmed.

“I guess we’re clear, right?” Hunter spoke too soon. A giant birdlike creature streaked across the sky and dove down toward the bridge. It grabbed one of the guys in its claws, let out a high-pitched scream, and then disappeared in the clouds. It happened so quickly and was such a blur, no one else saw it except for me, Gavin, and Hunter. The guy’s friend didn’t even know what had happened. He ran to the edge of the bridge and called down to the water, as if his friend might have been blown off.

I glanced at Hunter, who was three shades of pale and had her mouth hanging open. My own heart was pounding against my chest. I turned to Gavin.

“That guy . . . he’s . . . he’s gone. The demons . . . Did you see that?” I stuttered. The poor guy. I couldn’t believe it. Gavin just stared straight ahead. “I . . . I thought you weren’t supposed to kill humans?” I finally spit out.

“He’s not dead . . . yet,” Gavin answered. “And besides, he should know better than to smoke.”

“Wh—” I started to protest, but he kept talking before I could get a full word out.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” he added quickly, still not looking away from the bridge. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move!” He climbed onto the railing, stood straight up, and jumped. He plummeted down out of sight.

“Ga-a-a-av-i-i-i-i-n!” I shrieked, lunging forward. I hit the rail just in time to see him gliding away over the edge of the roof, wings outstretched. A second later, he shot upward in a burst of speed and was gone, leaving only the faintest trail of cloudy wisps behind him. I looked out over the Millennium Bridge, breathless, waiting. I felt Hunter at my side.

“Holy crap!” she whispered.

BOOM!

The noise was so loud, and so unexpected, we both nearly jumped out of our skin.

“What was that?” I grabbed Hunter’s arm. It sounded like thunder, but the only clouds in the sky were lazy, lowlying white ones.

BOOM! BOOM!

We saw a flash in the sky to the right of the bridge, like the afterglow of a fireworks finale.

“Look!” Hunter pointed. “I can see them! They’re fighting!”

Far above, what appeared like two birds—one light and one dark—dove in and out of the clouds. But Hunter and I knew better. They circled and swooped around, occasionally diving directly at each other. Whenever they made contact, an audible crack tore through the air, followed by a burst of light. I hoped Gavin was winning, imagined him punching the demon with otherworldly strength.

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