400 Horsepower of the Apocalypse
Chapter 14
The trees of Cibola National Forest shaded us against the first ten minutes of sunlight after dawn. Maybe fifteen… but then slanting golden light stabbed right into my eyes and I sat up with a groan. The ground was cold and hard under my ass, and even the warmth of Leo shifted next to me as my protests woke him, too.
Leo and I got up and moving quickly, like there were archangels, horsemen and an armored caravan of gun-toting paramilitary weirdos all chasing after us.
Oh, wait… that was exactly what was going on.
I returned Leo’s leather jacket. I was already wearing one of his t-shirts and couldn’t steal all of his clothes. I didn’t see any sign of Gabriel or the other angels — though Uriel wouldn’t actually corroborate that — so Leo started the Packmaster. I climbed on behind Leo and held on tight.
We crept back toward the highway, but saw only one car — an SUV with roof racks loaded down by camping gear. It passed us without stopping, so Leo pulled out onto the road.
Spending the night with a hunky biker as a pillow wasn’t as comfortable as I had hoped and I was swiftly developing a kink in my neck from looking over my shoulder for glowing wings or unmarked black vans. I began alternating shoulders just to avoid adding chiropractic issues to our list of problems.
We didn’t stop anywhere for long. Breakfast was some fast food we bought on the other side of the forest. We got it to go, then drove a few more miles before pulling over to wolf down egg and bacon sandwiches on the side of the road. I perched on an aluminum rail and guzzled my soda pop.
“At least we don’t need to stop for gas,” I said, then burped and flushed. “Even if your bike hates me.”
“Yeah,” Leo agreed. “This is some weird-ass shit. How’re you holding up?”
“Uh, getting frighteningly used to hearing an angel in my head. Seriously, I thought there was supposed to be a devil on my other shoulder. Some variety would be nice… Uriel never talks about anything but fighting the horsemen.”
Leo crumpled up a pair of greasy wrappers and stuffed them back into the paper bag. He spared a tight grin for my joke.
“What happens if we meet another one?” Leo asked.
I tossed my wrapper into the bag, too. “Another angel? Or a devil?”
“Angel.”
“I… don’t really know,” I admitted. “If they get close, Uriel will become stronger. And when Gabriel touched me, Uriel had total control of my body and took over my mouth. These guys have absolutely zero concept of consent.”
You and your world belong to us, Uriel supplied helpfully. We lit the fire that created your entire universe…
“But you got control back,” Leo said.
I touched a finger to my temple. “Not that I can make Uriel shut up now. And just one angel was enough to stuff me into the metaphorical trunk. If all four of them get together, I’ll never be able to retake the wheel.”
Leo growled and finished his pop, too. That was everything, so we dumped out our ice and crushed the cups until they fit in the paper sack. That went into the Packmaster’s saddlebags until we could find a trash can. I wondered briefly if the demon-bike was ever pissed about carrying our shit around.
“Speaking of visions,” I said, then took a deep breath. “That jolt we both got last night… Did it give Death any ideas?”
“It sure as hell got the adrenalin pumping, but no. I don’t think so,” Leo answered. “Kissing an angelic host doesn’t seem to be the same as encountering another horseman. They really are stronger together, I guess.”
“So what if we run into Pestilence or one of the other horsemen?” I asked.
“Probably about the same as you and Gabriel. Death gets more powerful… Maybe takes over.”
Leo’s voice was flat and leaden. He tossed my helmet to me and buckled his own in place. He swung one leg over the Packmaster, which rumbled ominously beneath him.
Precisely as I warned you many times, vessel, Uriel said.
I thought an angel would be above ‘I told you so.’
I balanced on the pillion behind Leo and wrapped my arms around him. The motorcycle snarled, but I held on. I would have biceps like iron bars by the end of this. Whatever end that was…
“Let’s get moving,” I said.
We made good time across New Mexico. Not as good as we could have, but shooting down Highway 44 like a speeding bullet didn’t seem like a smart idea. Those goons we dealt with last night probably weren’t police, but I didn’t want to get the cops on our asses, too, and I bet all those radar dishes on their van included a police scanner.
But the Packmaster didn’t like that decision one bit. The big black motorcycle tried to shake me off with every passing mile, and the engine raced and revved constantly, too. I couldn’t help thinking of a very large, very dangerous dog pulling against its leash. If Leo let go for a second, someone would get bitten.
I really hoped it wasn’t me.
At least the sky was clear and brilliant blue. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Leo trying to control his over-excited Packmaster in the rain. The highway remained dry and open as we rode. Well, except for other travelers and drivers, many of them hauling trailers or RVs as they headed across the country. We even passed a few other bikers. Most of them took in the predatory red and black beauty of Leo’s motorcycle and flashed us a thumbs-up.
Around dinnertime, though, I checked the cloudless sky for the gazillionth time. We were driving through the outskirts of a small city — Gallup, if I was reading the roadside signs right — and I wondered if we should stop to pick up that burner phone Leo talked about yesterday. The sky overhead was still blue, not a cloud in sight… But I felt something prickling my skin, like a sunburn. Skin as dark as mine didn’t burn easily, though, and most of it was covered up.
What the hell was that?
But when I turned back to the highway, I forgot all about the tingle. Something shone black and white in the sun up ahead, half-hidden beneath one of the peeling green-painted interstate signs. I could barely see it around the big rig in front of us, but I reached up and patted the top of my helmet — the hand signal warning for a cop.
Leo couldn’t see me sitting behind him, of course. So I swore to myself, thumped Leo on the arm and pointed urgently… But it was too late. We were already shooting past the parked cop car. I looked over Leo’s shoulder at the speedometer. We were seven miles over the speed limit, but so was everyone else on the road. We were wearing helmets and should be fine…
But two seconds later, the highway lit up in flashing red and blue. Shit! I stabbed my finger at the rearview mirror and Leo nodded shortly. Station wagons and SUVs were all pulling over behind us, clearing the way for the police. I felt the vibration through Leo’s body of him saying something, but I couldn’t hear a single word.
It must have been a warning… Leo wristed the throttle and the Packmaster finally got exactly what it had wanted all day. The engine roared and the huge motorcycle’s front wheel actually lifted a few inches into the air as we shot forward. The back tire screamed on the asphalt and left a burnt black streak down the highway in our wake.
I screamed, too, as the speedometer needle blasted past a hundred and kept going, but I didn’t try to make Leo stop. The rattlesnake patch on his jacket, saddlebags full of stolen cash and doubtlessly illegal handguns… Getting caught with that shit was a one-way ticket to prison — if we were lucky. And if we were held even overnight in some New Mexico jail, how long until the other angels and horsemen found us? If that happened, nothing much would matter anymore…
So we ran.
We raced down the highway so fast that my eyes watered and the wind shrieked in my ears. I had to press my face against Leo’s jacket and it took every ounce of strength to clutch onto him. I had no idea how Leo could steer or even see at those speeds, but we swerved smoothly back and forth, around trucks and family cars that seemed almost to stand still by comparison. The police cruiser fell swiftly behind and then vanished into the distance.
I clung to Leo until the cop was too far away to catch up and he finally throttled his motorcycle down to a less suicidal speed. Not without difficulty… the bike growled and surged when Leo tried to brake, nearly ramming us right into the branded back end of a big freight hauler.
“Stop that!” Leo shouted loud enough for even me to hear.
The Packmaster slowed down with a deep metallic grumble and the truck driver honked her horn at us. I waved one shaking hand in apology.
We drove carefully through the slowing evening traffic and I was growing swiftly dizzy trying to watch the road for more cops — on top of everything else I was paranoid about. We didn’t stop for dinner, and kept driving long after the sun had set. But then Leo and I were both yawning, and neither of us was very excited about the idea of sleeping rough again.
Reluctantly, we pulled off the highway and drove another twenty miles along the Arizona-New Mexico border before stopping at a motel. It was even later now, and the place was full up, forcing us to share a room again.
“Fine by me,” Leo said as we went to our latest rented room. He had left the saddlebags on his motorcycle, but stuffed a few stacks of money and most of the guns into his pockets. “We don’t want to be separated if any more of those paramilitary dickwads show up.”
It would save Leo a couple bucks, too — he had paid in cash again — but I didn’t really think the bill mattered very much at this point. I followed Leo into the room and locked the door, then eyed the beds. I remembered the heat of our kiss the night before and my head swam. Just because we had two beds didn’t mean we needed to use both of them…
Why do you sleep? Uriel asked.
Because we’re tired, I thought. Because we’ve been riding all day and we need to rest.
Rest?
Wow, Uriel was beyond naïve.
Are you serious? I asked. How do you not understand this? You’re an angel! Don’t you… watch people all the time? You know, waiting for your vessel so you could go fight the horsemen?
This universe was created to provide a physical battleground for our war, Uriel said. We set all energy and matter into motion, then waited for suitable vessels to develop. The details are unimportant.
I rolled my eyes and Leo frowned. I pointed to my head and he nodded.
There’s a whole universe out there, I thought. And the only things you paid attention to were your weapons? That’s the only bit you cared about?
Yes, Uriel said.
Well, that certainly explained why the angel didn’t understand sleep. I couldn’t imagine the need for rest being the trait that sold them and the horsemen on human bodies. And then I wondered why they had chosen us.
Uriel didn’t answer me about that, though, so I looked over at a clock sitting on the table between the narrow motel beds. It had a fake wooden finish and was so ancient that the term digital barely applied. But the flickering amber numbers there weren’t very encouraging.
“It’s too late to go buy a cell phone, isn’t it?” I asked.
Even if there were an electronics store or something hidden somewhere in this cluster of fast-food chains, filling stations and motels, it was well past midnight.
“Probably, ” Leo said with a sigh. “I was looking for anything still open this late on the way through. There’s a shitty-looking bar down the street, but that’s about it.”
“Could we borrow someone else’s phone?” I asked. “Do you know your uncle’s phone number?”
I doubted I could remember more than a couple of phone numbers — the rest were programmed into my cell. But a sudden hope lit up Leo’s eyes and he nodded.
“Yeah, I know my uncle’s number,” he said.
“Umm… wait a sec,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “What did you say last night about all the gear on that black van? That they were tracking our phones, right?”
“Well, the joke’s on them… They shot up their own damned tracking device,” Leo said with a laugh.
“Maybe, but do we really want them coming down on some soccer mom just because she helped us make a call?” I asked.
Leo heaved a sigh and shook his head. “No, we don’t. I’m not about to get some little league team caught in the crossfire.”
He sat down heavily on one of the beds and I plopped down onto the other to face him. Leo pulled the revolver out of his jacket, checked the cylinder — which he had reloaded with fresh bullets — and set it down on the nightstand.
And then he took a second gun from another pocket. It was a black pistol only a bit larger than Leo’s snub-nose. He put it on top of the nightstand and pushed it across the scarred laminate toward me. I didn’t pick it up.
“Just in case,” Leo said. “Ever used one?”
I was born and raised in Kansas, so I had encountered a few guns… but that was mostly hunting rifles and shotguns, and I had never been a big fan of either. My grandfather lost most of a hand screwing with some buckshot and that didn’t inspire a lot of confidence in little Jasmine O’Neil.
“Uh, I’m not really a gun girl,” I answered after an awkward hesitation.
Leo gave me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. It’s pretty easy. This one is semi-automatic, so you don’t need to cock it between shots. But you can’t just hold down the trigger.”
I didn’t pick up the pistol. I looked at it on the nightstand, but didn’t recognize the make or model… I do motorcycles, not guns.
“How many bullets are there?” I asked.
“Seven shots before you have to reload,” Leo said. “I’ve got two more magazines for that one.”
I nodded and really hoped I wouldn’t have to use any of that information. Gingerly, I positioned the gun next to my bed. It was cool and surprisingly heavy for its size.
“So what’s our next move?” I asked.
Find the other angels and prepare for battle against our enemies, Uriel answered.
I wasn’t talking to you, I thought.
“Well, that shitty bar might have a pay phone,” I suggested out loud. “We can use it to call your uncle.”
“I wondered about that, too,” Leo said. “But you’re right, Jaz. We don’t know who is listening in. I hate all this spy shit, but we can’t call Uncle Carlos or anybody else until we actually get to San Diego.”
“What if he has some… I don’t know… advice?” I asked. “A trick or secret to help us get there?”
“We have to figure it out on our own,” Leo said.
I gulped. “So… ride like hell tomorrow?”
“Hopefully not too much like hell,” he said.
Neither of us laughed. Leo looked down at his hands, which had closed into fists again. The biker stood and stripped out of his leather jacket.
“My turn to shower,” he said. “I feel like crap and I smell like a parking lot.”
Leo pulled his shirt up and off, revealing more tattoos and a whole lot of hard muscle. He kicked away his well-worn boots and then… unfortunately, Leo stopped his undressing there. He draped his shirt and jacket over the back of the room’s single chair. Leo hesitated for a moment, then took his gun into the bathroom with him.
That object is a weapon? Uriel asked.
I nodded and apparently, the archangel could see or feel that confirmation from inside me.
You should not let him have a weapon, Uriel said. He will use it against you.
God, you’re paranoid. You know what that word means, right?
Uriel ignored the question.
I am growing stronger, the angel said. And Death is, too. Leave that… man… behind.
Not a chance. Leo’s my only shot at making it through this thing alive.
I shuddered and internally braced myself to fight Uriel for control of my body. I still wasn’t exactly sure how to do that… But despite the archangel’s ominous words, there was no sense of gathering power inside me… Just that faint, sunburn sensation that I had felt all day.
In all the panic of police and phones and guns, I had almost forgotten about the feeling. I pushed myself off the bed and went to the lamp in front of the window to squint at my skin. No burn, and the sky outside was dark and moonless, though it glittered with a thousand silver stars. I sure as hell wasn’t getting a sunburn now…
What is that? I asked inwardly. What am I feeling, Uriel?
The angel was quiet, though, and I wasn’t really in the mood to get into another weird mental debate with them. I actually felt almost alone inside my own head, and it was a nice change of pace.
From the washroom, I heard some muttered Spanish that sounded like swearing followed by the hiss of running water. I paced in front of the window and rubbed my hands against my jeans. Even without Uriel’s voice in my head, my thoughts were chasing each other around in circles.
Leo and I were possessed by ancient, powerful magical entities that absolutely hated each other. There were unmarked but heavily armed whackjobs after us, and now we were running from cops, too. Well, at least Leo was familiar with that last part.
I spent my whole life wishing I could run away from Crayhill. But somehow, none of my dreams or fantasies had involved my body being taken over by an archangel and hitching a ride on the back of Death’s steed. I was pretty sure this fell under the heading of being careful what you wish for.
I leaned against the window, cheek pressed to the glass, and watched the stars sparkle outside. In the next room, the shower shut off and the bathroom door swung open. I smelled warm, wet air and soap as Leo stepped out. His reflection moved across the dark window in front of me and I watched a few droplets of water winding their way down the muscles of his chest and stomach.
Leo was rubbing a towel over his head, drying his hair, and I don’t think he saw me staring. I managed to get my eyes under control by the time he was done and had tossed the towel back into the bathroom. He stretched, lacing his fingers behind his neck and showing off every inch of tattooed chest.
“Much better,” Leo sighed. “Do you want a go?”
At the shower. Leo was asking if I needed a turn washing up. I shook my head, though.
“No, I’m alright,” I answered. “I wasn’t the one wrestling the Packmaster all day.”
Leo dropped his hands back down to his sides and then gave me a long look that I struggled to interpret. He walked across the motel room and made no move to retrieve his old shirt or get a new one.
“Want to go to bed?” Leo asked.
Was I imagining the invitation in his question? I didn’t know, but Leo took a step closer to me, not toward either of the beds. He stood close enough that I felt the heat coming off his skin. There was an electric charge in the room and a hot thrill ran through my whole body.
I turned away from the window to look up at Leo. If his eyes smoldered any more, he was going to spontaneously combust… But then I stopped. I remembered our kiss last night, but I also remembered the visions of Uriel and Death fighting endlessly, impossibly through the void before the universe. Leo froze, too, a troubled look on his face.
“The gun,” he said. “Shit, I forgot.”
Leo went back to the bathroom and then came out holding his revolver. He replaced it on the bedside table with a sigh. I sat down on my bed.
“So… how about some TV?” I asked.
Leo nodded a bit unconvincingly and we both climbed into our separate beds. I pulled off my shoes, then leaned against the headboard and busied myself puzzling out the remote controls. It took a few minutes to get the television turned on and find something besides late-night infomercials.
Finally, I settled for a bland sitcom and slipped under the bed covers without getting undressed. Sleeping in jeans wasn’t very comfortable, but if anything went wrong — and something always went wrong — I didn’t want to make a run for Leo’s motorcycle in a t-shirt and panties. I left my socks on and made sure my shoes were right next to the bed, too.
Leo sat up, watching the television without seeming to really see it. He kept his shoes and shirt nearby, too. The biker looked like he wanted to say something a couple of times, but remained silent. So I pulled the blankets tight around me and fell asleep staring at the door.
