Grace stayed behind to help Melody recover and try to get her to safety. But I wanted to press onward, if only for Joy’s sake. Though I couldn’t quite see the expression in her compound-eye visor, I could feel the fire in her mind. She was terrified for her friend. But Russula had been taken up the stairs. And as disorienting as the second floor was, just tilting my head upward caused my head to pound atrociously. This body knew what it wanted, and what it needed to do. There was a Demon up there. We had to stop her.

“They took her,” Joy mumbled as we climbed the stairs. “What? Why?”

All I could think about was what Rocky had said on her livestream just hours earlier. They were going to catch a ‘bug’ live? Show it to the world? Surely... no, I couldn’t deny it. That was exactly what they were doing here. “Don’t think about it,” I said. “Let’s just do this.”

We re-entered the stairwell and flew up the stairs. The ground above was shaking now, clouds of dust and sand falling cascading down with each tremor. Down below, we could still hear the footsteps of other Angels running down. But at least one thing was following us up. The locusts streamed from every crack and crevice, through every doorway, filling the air around us. The sound of their wingbeats was deafening. There must have been thousands of them. And they were all gathering around the door at the top of the stairs.

When we opened it, the swarm rushed through, a torrent of wings and legs and claws flying racing down the hallway, and disappearing right after. Stragglers continued to hop and fly through the gap as we entered ourselves.

Something was very, very unnerving about the hallway.

It wasn’t just the bodies. At this point, I’d almost gotten used to seeing the mutilated, half-eaten Imagos littering the floor, dripping hemolymph onto the smooth tiles. After all, they were... they were fine. They’d regenerate. I imagined it was horribly painful for them, but... at the end of the day, that was what mattered. They were ‘fine’.

The other bodies were less fine.

These were not Demons. I knew that implicitly, just looking at the bits and pieces lying on the ground. Humans. Just ordinary people, lying dead in the hallways, stained with blood. Red blood. It hadn’t come from Angels. Or at least not just from Angels. And here was proof. The bandanas, tied around their heads or arms or lying at their feet, were blue and marked with a red lightning bolt. Blood Thunder. And their bodies bore the clear marks of our distinct, Angelic weaponry. Sliced apart, punctured, crushed, shattered. It almost made me wonder if the Demons’ way was better, simply making people disappear.

“They chose wrong,” said Vespa. “Do not pity them.”

“They’re people, though. They didn’t know better. And what’s this going to look like when the world finds out? People mysteriously dead?”

“I think it’s too late for that.” Joy walked between the motionless bodies, down towards the end of the hallway. Her whole body was shaking. The classroom was just down at the far end, and even looking at its doorway was painful. Vespa had to land on my shoulder, apparently no longer able to fly forward on her own.

The gunshot was a surprise. It probably shouldn’t have been.

People rushed down the hallway, wearing t-shirts and shorts, or pants, even sweaters. Their clothes were sometimes ripped from movement or cuts, perhaps. There were maybe twenty of them, of all shapes and sizes, all with the same blue bandanas and scarlet thunderbolt. Not all of them had guns, others brandished knives or makeshift spears, or baseball bats and other tools. Alongside them were Echoes, though I got the impression that these people weren’t aware of the creatures walking between their legs. The animals looked vaguely familiar, but uncanny, twisted reflections of the living things I knew.

As the Echoes charged, I didn’t hesitate. I drew my weapon and sliced them apart with ease. The demonstration seemed to give the people pause. But they didn’t leave. What was I going to do? Surely, I couldn’t actually hurt them... I didn’t... I didn’t want to...

They stepped closer. What to do? I scanned the faces feverishly. My mother’s was not among them, thankfully. But the people were angry. They knew that we were... the enemy. Even if they were wrong, those emotions were genuine. And they terrified me. A few stray bullets grazed by me. I was hypersensitive, and this body had lightning reflexes. Still, it could only move so fast. The bullets grazed the carapace, carving and denting the surface of my insect-like skin. Knowing the danger, I knew I had to do something. But I was paralyzed.

It was Joy who stepped forward. She drew her spear and thrust it forward, careful not to actually hit anyone. “Stand back,” she shouted. “We have no business with you. We mean you no harm, but if you come any closer, I cannot guarantee your safety.”

That stopped them for a bit, though the weapons remained pointed at us.

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“Rocky is in there!” one of them cried out. “We’re rescuing her.”

One of them broke from the crowd and charged forward. This one was only holding a large wooden staff. Joy easily sidestepped his clumsy movements. He slipped on the sand and tumbled to the ground. With a gentle touch of the tip of her spear, he seemed to drift off to sleep.

“Joy?” I started.

She nodded. “Better for them to just forget what happened here,” she whispered. “Don’t try to harm us. We don’t want to harm you. But we cannot let you in there. It is too dangerous.”

The group did not take that well, but at this point they were certainly wary of us. Joy was slightly trembling, still. It must have been nerve-wracking. But it was clear that she didn’t want to hurt any of these people either. I stepped forward beside her and brandished my own weapon. “Leave,” I said, quietly. “Leave.” The Echoes still ran past the people to attack us, and I dispatched them one by one, keeping an eye on all the people.

“You can talk,” said one of them.

“Yes, we can talk,” said Joy. “And we don’t want to hurt you. We know who you are, Blood Thunder. We know that you are scared. Fear not. We are not here to hurt you.” I could tell it was taking all her strength not to stutter as she spoke. “You do not understand what you are fighting. And those of you who charged foolishly in... they were killed.” The crowd surfed. “In self-defence,” she added hastily. “So I urge you, stand back.”

“If Rocky is in there,” I added, “Then she my be in great danger. We will not harm her. But we must go to the door. If you open it... we cannot guarantee you will not be harmed.”

That seemed to get a better reaction from them. They slowly backed off, and Joy and I walked down through the middle of the hall. The door was right there. We’d get through safely.

Then, someone pointed a finger at me. “She’s the one from the video!” another of them said. Oh no. “The Vancouver video.” At that, their eyes widened, and their expressions hardened. Of course they would. They’d seen video of what looked like... what looked like me killing a random person. All of a sudden, the tenuous peace shattered. Yelling and screaming ensued, along with a few gunshots. Neither I nor Joy were injured, but one of their number collapsed, caught in the crossfire. The blood only seemed to drive the crowd into a greater frenzy.

Joy and I had no intention of actually fighting to kill. We stepped back, hesitating, avoiding the mass of people and chaos. The a cloud of sand and dust was kicking up as we moved. Suddenly, my wings felt huge and ungainly, even folded against my back. A bullet tore through the wing membrane, sending hemolymph oozing out and jolts of pain through my body. One of them, a girl maybe a year or two older than me, ran straight for us with a knife. I did my best to block her strike, grabbing her wrist with my hand.

I felt something give, followed by A sickening crunch. My chitinous hand closed around her wrist, snapping bones and tendons and eliciting a bone-curdling scream. I let go immediately, but the damage was more than done. She fell to her knees, cradling her hand, and was nearly trampled by the others rushing at us. I wanted to push forward, to make sure that she was alright, but there was no way to do so without going through the others. What was this body? These instincts? How could I be delicate with these people when I didn’t even know my own strength? Blood was dripping down my clawed fingers. I wanted to fall to my knees, too.

The Echoes had also aggravated their assault, running through the chaos to nip at our feet and ankles. A few were also taking the opportunity to attack the fallen people who were supposedly on their side. Whoever was controlling them was making no attempt at all to show how they felt about their allies. I saw a man had fallen in a daze, and Echoes were gnawing at his fingers, the fingertips bloody from their molten teeth. He was off to the side, and I could just reach him, just barely clear away the Echoes. Not like it helped. It only sent three or four of the other people after me, misguidedly thinking I was attacking him.

I felt exhausted. Looking through the crowd, Joy was still easy to see, thanks to her shiny green Imago. But I could tell she was defeated as well. Outside of... of killing them outright. But that was a bridge too far. “Joy!” I called out.

Her head turned my way. And she nodded. No. She wasn’t out yet. She was going to.

“Joy!” I screamed, nearly tackling her. Her spear clattered to the floor. “You were going to—"

“I have to get to her,” she said, trying to push me aside.

Her. Russula. “This isn’t the way—”

“They made their decision!” She clawed at the ground for her weapon.

“But—”

We were interrupted by a torrent of locusts. Yet another wave crashed through the doors, streamed through the vents, filled the space and pushed the people away. “Leave this place!” The raspy voice thundered through the halls. Miriam.

Miriam was here.

The people scattered for now, terrified by the voice and the immense swarm of insects that had accosted them. And at the end of the hallway, the door opened on its own. A familiar voice rang out from inside. “Help me!”

And a second voice spoke as well. “Yes. Help her, if you can.”