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Lines of Shadow: Sequel to Somewhere Between	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 4117 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy or any related character and make no money off this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Prophecies
- 2-Reunion
- 3-Artifact
- 4-Inferno
- 5-Flightless
- 6-Valhalla
- 7-Fate
- 8-Broken
- 9-Seduction
- 10-Unleashed
- 11-Traitor
- 12-Overrun
- 13-Vows
- 14-Escape
- 15-War
- 16-Humanity
- 17-Ragnarok
- 18-Judgment
- 16
- 17
- 18
I lied, sorta. This did end up being two chapters because they killed Lucifer in a different way than I originally had planned and it took longer… So, there's STILL one chapter left. Thanks again to Mary Kroll for her very fast beta skills.

- HB

My ears are ringing. The armor slowly peels away from our heads, letting in the red glow from the burning sky. I don't sit up until it comes off my back. John uncurls from me and drops his head against the cracked riverbed. He looks as disoriented as I feel. He keeps blinking and shaking his head.

"You okay?" I shout, knowing he's gotta be as deaf as I am.

'Scout looks up at me, then just behind me, and his eyes go wide with fear. Clods of dirt rain down around us and I don't have to turn to know what he's staring at. I pull John tight, rolling to my left as fast as I can. I keep rolling until Lucifer's foot slams down where we were laying. The ground shakes from the force of it and dust billows up around us.

Shifting my weight off of Boyscout, I blink through the haze to find that we only just got out of the way. One of the three claws on Lucifer's back foot is an arm's length from us. The opposite foot repeats the motion and his thick, spiny tail whips across the riverbed. Small demons nearly a half a mile from us get knocked to the ground as the tail lashes through their midst.

Like I thought, the explosion didn't do much to Lucifer. The big bastard is still standing, maybe a little worse for wear, but he's up. Blood is pouring from his gigantic, barrel chest. I can't see the extent of the damage from this angle, but I can tell that his front legs are in shreds. Most of the scales and flesh are gone and all that's left is raw, exposed muscle. Two more of Lucifer's heads hang limp at the end of their respective necks, the noses nearly dragging on the ground.

Fenris, on the other hand, is lying in the scorched crater the bomb left behind. I can still see his sides heaving weakly, but there's not much fight left in him. Most of the fur on his face and chest is burned away, leaving his bites and gouges from the fight exposed. I don't see any of our friends.

I haul John to his feet and move cautiously towards Fenris, narrowing my eyes to try and find some sign that the others are alive. A few figures are moving in the smoke by the wolf's head. They seem like they're struggling to lift the animal, which they should know is impossible. They might as well try to pick up the Empire State Building.

Lucifer's remaining pair of heads writhe wildly, screaming in what I guess is agony, but could just be rage. He flexes his wings, flapping sporadically. Hopefully, it'll be a few minutes before he refocuses on killing us. We'll be lucky if we have minutes.

With 'Scout right on my heels, we run for Fenris. Grabbing one of 'Scout's shoulder plates, I lead him around Lucifer's front feet, giving the dripping napalm blood a wide berth. Lucifer doesn't try to snatch us up as we go by. I'm not even sure if he can see us. The flare of light from that explosion leaked through the seams in John's armor, so looking right at it probably burned the shit out of Lucifer's eyes.

All the imps in the area have been destroyed. Their bodies aren't just burnt, they're char-grilled. As we run through them, they explode into clouds of ash. A solid piece of bone occasionally crunches underneath my boots, but most of the remains are just blowing away. It's one less thing to worry about.

As we run by Fenris's nose, we get blasted by hot, moist air from his exhale. Small flecks of blood mingle with his breath, more obvious as they land on John's pale skin than it is on mine. The animal doesn't have long. Tyr is lying on the wolf's head right next to his coffee-table sized eye. He has a very unhealthy relationship with this beast, but I guess raising something does make you a little more attached to it.

We come around the burned remnants of Fenris's ears to find Torque and Thor still desperately trying to lift the animal's head. I open my mouth to ask them what the hell they're trying to do when I see a dark smear of fur coming out from beneath Fenris. It's Odin's cloak.

"Crap," I grunt, rushing over to help.

Wedging my stone hand beneath the wolf's thick hide, I strain to lift him off of Odin. John comes in beside me, shouting at Try to help us. We all cluster as close as we can to where Odin is crushed, lifting with enough combined strength to pick up a train engine, but Fenris doesn't budge.

"He's not going to move," John gasps in defeat.

We all give up when 'Scout does because his assessment is right. Everyone but Thor that is. The veins in Thor's neck and arms stand out as he redoubles his effort.

Tyr puts his stone hand on Thor's shoulder, "My lord, Odin is gone."

Thor doesn't pay much attention to him. Blood rushes to his face as he puts every ounce of his strength into lifting the animal off of his father. His scream is desperate, pained. We don't have time to convince him that there's not saving Odin. Lucifer is moving towards us and he's pissed.

I give Boyscout a good shove and shout, "Go."

With a long look that I easily interpret as 'don't get killed', 'Scout follows my instruction. Torque is right behind him, but Thor won't stop struggling to free his father's corpse. Tyr keeps trying to politely coerce him into leaving, but the ground is shaking under our feet with Lucifer's approach. The remaining heads scream as they lunge towards us. I close my stone hand on Thor's arm and yank him out of the way.

The snapping teeth barely miss us. Lucifer's growl rumbles through me as he flings his head to the side to try again. His massive mouth opens wide enough to swallow a double-decker bus without chewing. The black chasm of his throat is the darkest pit of Hell. Fleeting guilt passes through me at sending Lazarus into him with nothing to show for it.

I feel like I might've ripped Thor's arm out of socket as I jerk him out of the way. That mouth clacks shut and the other head dives down to hem us in. Thor gets sick of being yanked around real quick. He pushes me off with a snarl and pulls his hammer out of the leather holster at his waist.

Lucifer's head darts towards us and I reach to yank Thor away, but he lands a solid punch on my nose. I stagger back as Lucifer's teeth snap around Thor. There's no blood, Thor's just gone. Tyr watches solemnly as Lucifer rears up with the last of the Norse nobility in his mouth.

"Come on," I growl.

The others are waiting a dozen yards from us, Torque a little farther away than John. 'Scout's battle ready, his wings flared out and his swords gripped firmly in his hands. Despite the brave stance, his face is vulnerable, terrified. All of our plans have failed, so I understand his fear. I've got it gripping my insides too.

Something explodes far above us, sounding a lot like an electrical transformer getting hit by a missile. The head that grabbed Thor rips into dozens of pieces. Massive bolts of lightning pour through the tears in his face, crackling out of his eyes and the seams between his scales. Fragments of bone and brain and blood fly off in all directions.

Falling from the gory debris is a white-hot streak of light that has to be Thor's hammer. The fragment of flesh clinging to the hammer uncurls and disappears in a swirl of snow. Fucking bastard is alive! The tiny snowstorm is echoed near Fenris's hips, Thor appearing in the middle of it. He collapses to his knees and falls forward onto his face, clearly drained. Good thing he's back there, we should've have to worry about moving him.

Lucifer's mass quivers and twitches in the aftermath of the blast, a cry of agony tearing from the final head. There's only one head left. I don't need much of a dawning moment, since it's a pretty simple idea. Kill the last head and we kill him.

"We've gotta get to the last head!" I shout at the handful of us that remain.

'Scout's at my side in a heartbeat, "What's the plan?"

"No plan, we've just gotta kill this son of a bitch. Do you think you can fly me up there?" I ask, already pretty certain of the answer. He had a hard time gliding my bulk down here, so I doubt he'll be able to ascend to that height with me in tow.

John peers up, his brow furrowed, "I can try."

"Shit, where's Anubis?" I haven't seen him since the bomb went off, so that's not good. He could get me up there in an instant, but there's a good chance that he's dead.

"Here he comes," Torque shouts, hoisting his mace.

For a second, I think he means that he spotted Anubis, but Lucifer is coming down on us fast. We scatter in every direction, John and me climbing over Fenris's body and Torque and Tyr darting into the open. Instead of coming after any of us, Lucifer snaps his teeth around Fenris's throat. He shakes the downed animal like a fucking ragdoll, throwing 'Scout and me to the ground.

I roll to my feet and hoist John by his waist so we can get out of the way. We don't want to be here when Lucifer drops Fenris. The animal struggles weakly in Lucifer's grip, scratching at the dragon's scaled nose twice. Fenris's jugular sprays blood in thick rivers down what's left of his fur. Try's jagged cry is much louder than the wolf's dying whimpers.

"I've got an idea," John whispers.

I look down at him to find him spinning a thin strand of metal between his gauntleted fingers. As far as I can tell, the metal is coming from the living armor. As he draws his arms apart, the strand of metal lengthens to match. A spiral of blade grows out of the strand and catches what little light there is.

My brow furrows, "Is there enough metal?"

"If I limit the armor to my hands, probably."

"How the hell are you gonna get up there?"

He holds my gaze, taking in a shuddering breath before he says, "Fly."

Lucifer releases the wolf's corpse, the body collapsing to the ground with a thud. His victorious roar is loud enough to make us clasp our hands over our ears. Thank god it's short lived.

My heart is jumping around in my ribcage as I fight with John's idea. "He'll snap you out of the goddamn air! You'll never get close enough," I snarl. I don't want him anywhere near Lucifer, let alone making a suicidal run at his head.

"Then I'll need a good distraction," he answers easily, but the tremor in his wings gives him away. He's just as scared as I am.

I turn away, running a rough hand across my face.

John comes around in front of me, pressing, "We don't have any other ideas! We have to do something."

Lucifer charges us, keeping his last head far out of our reach. He slams a clawed hand down to try and grab Torque. The industrious rhino-man drops down and calls forward rows upon rows of sharp spires of earth. The ground rockets upward into Lucifer's hand, spearing it. As he yanks back with a howl, the dirt spines break apart.

I completely forgot he could do that. An idea starts to form in my head. I turn back to 'Scout, but he's gone. I look up frantically. He's already far above me, darting towards Lucifer.

"John!" I shout.

He doesn't turn, doesn't slow. If he survives this, I'm going to fucking kill him.

My stomach twists into a tight knot. I run for Torque, needing to get a good distraction going before John gets too close to Lucifer. I have to climb over Fenris's mangled forepaws to get to Torque. As I'm cresting the second one, I'm already yelling, "Rupture the ground under his feet! Make a fucking earthquake!"

Torque's ears flick towards me, but he doesn't give me more attention than that. He hears me just fine. Lifting both fists over his head, Torque throws his weight forward and bashes them into the earth. The ground shakes as a massive crack speeds away from the point of impact. The farther it gets, the bigger it gets, until it's wide enough to park an eighteen-wheeler lengthwise in it.

When it reaches Lucifer, the crack spreads out into a web of fractures. I cast my gaze upward to see that John is nearly at the dragon's face, but Lucifer's attention is focused on the ground as it gives way beneath him. The earth crumbles under Lucifer's weight. His feet slide and scramble on the loose riverbed, his thick tail pinwheeling as he tries to regain his balance.

The long segment of metal gleams as it drops beneath Lucifer's last head. It catches his eye. Just as John lands on the back of his neck, Lucifer starts thrashing. He throws his head every direction he can, shifting his massive frame back and forth as he tries to shake John. From here, I can't tell whether or not the tiny piece of razor wire is even doing any good. I don't think John has enough strength to pull it through the thick scales and muscle.

"I have to get up there," I shout to no one in particular.

Frantically, I look around for anything that will help me get to John. I growl as I realize that my options are nonexistent. Thor is still unconscious, Tyr can't teleport and neither can Torque. I consider just climbing the mammoth scales, but I'll never get to John before he's thrown off.

A clawed hand lands on my back and I sink through the shadows at my feet. For a breath, I'm in complete darkness and then I'm on a surface that's pitching and rolling. Deep red scales spread out in all directions. I throw my arms around a tall spine as the surface beneath my feet dips fast and hard.

I look back at Anubis, who has his claws dug firmly between the thick scales. He's missing an eye, the long jagged wound that caused it trailing down his muzzle and splitting his upper lip clean through. It's going to be a hell of a scar. I nod my thanks to him and he slides through my shadow without a word.

It takes me a second to get my bearings since I'm being tossed around like a sailboat in a hurricane. Lucifer's body is behind me, so the head has to be forward. I climb the writhing neck as carefully as I can, imagining Velcro and glue and all sorts of idiotic things. My stone hand is the best tool I have. I wedge it between the large scales to keep me from flying off, moving my flesh hand forward to grab any handhold I find. I haul myself up with spines and scales and a thick flap of skin that leads down to a frill that's flaring wildly.

Lucifer's snarls and roars were loud from the ground, but up here they're deafening. It's like standing next to a jetliner as it takes off. I'm too busy trying to keep from getting thrown off to cover my ears but I desperately wish I had some earplugs. I'll be lucky if I get even a quarter of my hearing back. Pretty sure my eardrums are bleeding.

I find John flat on his stomach, the razor wire wrapped around his wrists and hands three or four times. The armor is down to just his grieves and his gauntlets, the rest of it stretched into the length of wire he's got wrapped around Lucifer's neck. Right now, he's not doing much more than just holding on. His eyes are squeezed shut and his lips are moving with words I can't hear. He's put his wings away, probably to reduce the wind drag.

My body aches from the effort of fighting my way up the neck, but it's only going to get worse. All I have to work with here are Lucifer's scales. They get thicker and flatten out as they travel down towards his head, making it a little easier to hold on. I inch forward on my belly, sliding in next to John so I don't crush him.

His bright blue eyes flash open, fixing on me with shock. I definitely had to be the last thing he was expecting. There's nothing that can be said over the noise Lucifer is making, so I wrap my hands around John's hands and fight to get my feet under me. The wire doesn't bite into my skin like I was expecting. It's much smoother where it's wound around John's fists.

Once we're up, I slide my stone hand forward, taking both ends of the line into it. John's bare feet slip on the smooth scales and I whip my other arm around his waist to keep him steady. I don't expend too much thought on why the hell he's not wearing shoes, focusing on keeping my stance spread wide enough that I can stay upright and pulling the wire into Lucifer's throat.

I back up slowly as John and I yank the cord through the dragon's neck. The yield is minimal. I have to jerk my mass back to make any kind of progress. John manages to find a solid foothold, digging his heels into the edge of a scale. He pushes back against me. Blood drips out of his hands as the line cuts through the seams of his armor.

Lucifer's thrashing becomes more frantic. He whips his head from side to side, nearly pitching both of us off the edge. My feet leave his flesh, my body thrown back by a particularly savage buck. Somehow, I manage to keep hold of the line. As the combined force of Lucifer's flailing and John and my weight hit the wire, something gives. We fly through the air gracelessly, arcing towards Lucifer's back.

John pulls out his wings, but he can't get oriented as he tumbles. I yank him against me just as we crash into one of Lucifer's shoulders. Pain explodes through me. I curl around Boyscout, wrapping my arms around both his wings so they don't get caught on something. We bounce against the rock-like scales again and again, sliding until I manage to drive my stone fingers into a crevice. We jerk to a stop, both of us panting.

Slowly, I lift my head to find that we're just past Lucifer's flank. The body shudders underneath us and then we're falling again. John's wings flex against my hand and I shift the arm down around his waist so he can open them. Lucifer drops away from us. I watch the body hurtle towards the ground, not entirely certain that John's idea worked until I see the raw stump of neck oozing black blood.

I can't stop my triumphant shout, don't want to stop it. 'Scout joins me and we shout and laugh and howl all the way to the ground. As soon as my feet touch the riverbed, I pick 'Scout up and spin him in a tight circle, my mouth closing over his in a bruising kiss. His arms go around my neck and his lips open to mine. The thrill that runs through me makes everything tingle, pushing my aches and pains into the back of my mind.

I pull away, grinning like a goddamn idiot and not caring in the slightest. John chuckles and presses his forehead to mine. For a few minutes, we just stay that way, breathing each other's air and reveling in the fact that we're alive. I card my fingers through his sweat-slicked hair, moving my hand down to cradle the base of his skull. I press my lips to his more softly, tasting sweat and blood.

The moment breaks when a fearful shout is aimed in our direction, "The demons are closing in!" I'm not entirely sure who said it.

Off in the distance, near the shore, I spot the hoards marshalling. The few that remain after the bomb blast are rushing towards us. I put 'Scout down and we race back to the front of Lucifer's corpse. Our feet pound across the hardened ground where Lucifer's blood had fallen and it crunches like glass. I glance down and realize that it is glass. His blood was so hot that it made the riverbed into pockmarked, blackened glass.

We run underneath one of Lucifer's thick necks to find that Torque and Tyr and Anubis are already clustered in a tight defensive ring. They're watching the swelling numbers of demons approach them. Thor is in the middle of their ring, still unconscious. There's no way we can fight out here. We'll be hemmed in and devoured. As I scan the hoards, I realize that we already are hemmed in. They're all around us. Those that were ahead of Lucifer are turning back, and countless more are rushing into the riverbed from Battery Park.

"We've got to get out of here. Anubis, take them to Brooklyn," I shout, still too far away from them to talk normally.

A crunching sound from Lucifer makes me freeze. I turn slowly, eyeing the body suspiciously. Curling my stone hand into a tight fist, I tell John, "Get out of here."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head, "No way. I'm with you."

Helluva time for his stubborn streak to come back. I hear the crunching sound again, but the body doesn't seem to be moving. Lucifer's necks lay curled all around us, not a one of them twitching. I narrow my eyes, staring at the meaty flesh of Lucifer's chest to try and pinpoint the sound. I don't have to pinpoint it because a sword slices through the muscle from the inside. Hands appear after it, dropping the sword once they're through, and then Lazarus's mop of unruly hair pushes through.

"I'll be damned," I mutter.

He's much too high up for me to reach, so I hoist John onto my shoulders to help pull Lazarus out. John pulls at the man's slick arms, grabbing his belt once it's visible. The tug he gives it makes the leather shred and John almost falls backwards. I brace his back, keeping a wary eye on the approaching hoards. They're a little less than a hundred yards away now, not even the length of a football field.

"Pretty sure this is what getting birthed feels like," Lazarus complains.

John manages to get a good grip on his jeans, asking, "How the hell did you find your way out?"

"Heard the explosion… well, felt it is more like it. Can't believe my damned arm came off! Anyway, so I kept moving in the direction I thought it had come from."

His arm did come off, but I'm lookin' at a guy with two arms. He must regenerate a whole lot faster than I ever thought he did. The idea only distracts me for a moment. I crane my neck to look back at the others. They're gone. Hopefully because Anubis listened to me and not for some other unfortunate reason. 'Scout finally gets Lazarus loose and I let them down carefully.

The demons are almost on top of us.

I grab John's face and force as much authority into my voice as I can possibly manage, "Get out of here now. Anubis is coming back for us and he can't take you."

"But-"

"No, don't argue with me, just go."

John hesitates, but finally unfolds his wings. Good. I was afraid for a minute that I was going to have to throw him into the air to get him moving. Going from a dead start isn't easy and I can tell that he's tired, but he manages to get aloft. He hovers above us until I motion angrily at the shore.

I barely have enough time to pick up Lazarus's discarded sword before the imps start crawling over their master's dead body to get to us. Lazarus slides close to me and I realize that his other sword sheath is empty. All he's got are his bare hands. I shove the sword at him, crushing the first imp beneath my stone fist.

"I'm gettin' really sick of you assholes," I gripe between hits.

We've only been at it for a few minutes before Anubis's slick black hands come out of the shadows at our feet. He grabs my ankle and then Lazarus's, dragging us through. I hold my breath in the shadow, not even really sure why I do it. Moving through shadow is like moving through something thick and viscous. I swear I'm moving in slow motion.

I break out of the shadow well behind the National Guard's defensive line. One young soldier panics when he sees me, bringing his gun around. I grab the barrel so he can't aim it at me.

"Hey, I'm one of the good guys," I growl at him, annoyed.

His dark green eyes go wide and he drops the weapon, scrambling backwards into a few of his buddies. I'm afraid that none of them are going to realize that I'm on their side, but as more heads and guns turn my direction, Anubis steps between them and me.

His lip curls, but he doesn't snarl at them, "Hellboy is not an enemy. Focus on the things outside of your encampment."

They slowly go back to whatever they were doing before I showed up, which looks like they're setting up another missile-launcher of some kind. I don't know too much about military gear outside of my own gun, so I turn away.

"Thanks," I toss at Anubis.

He nods, then perks his giant ears forward. After listening a moment, he tells me what he hears, "The demons are falling back. The humans have got them retreating."

"Let's go have a look, shall we?" Lazarus quips, walking into an alley at our backs.

Standing on top of a crate marked 'Explosive', he grabs the last rung of a rusty metal ladder that leads up to a fire escape. It clangs down on top of him, smacking his head hard enough that I hear the thick crack over all of the soldiers' shouting and gunfire. Using curse words I'm not all that familiar with, Lazarus steps out of the way so the ladder can clang into place and starts climbing.

I follow a little more slowly, not sure that the rickety stairs are going to hold my weight. They whine and creak, but don't give way. As my confidence grows, so does my speed. I take the last curve of stairwell in three bounds, leaping the short distance to the roof because Lazarus is taking up the last ladder.

The demons are running towards the destroyed bridge, ranks of soldiers following after them. They're falling by the hundreds and their numbers are actually slimming. At least on this side of the river, I think we have things under control.

Out in the river, the mound of Lucifer's body is being swallowed by water. I guess his power waned enough to let the flow of the river resume. The water crashes into the empty space like a dam had broken. It slams into Lucifer, but the body doesn't move. His ribcage becomes a small island, his severed necks floating to the surface to drift and twist with the tide.

I scan the sky for John. It takes me some time to find him, but when I do spot him, I wave my arms to try and get his attention. He's still a ways out, at least a quarter of a mile, but he must see me. He changes course, coming straight towards us.

A missile screams out of the street beside us, billowing smoke as it streaks into the air. It arcs high, so high that it cuts through the clouds and I lose it for a few seconds. When it breaks the cloud cover, it's headed down into Manhattan. It lands deep in the city but makes a plume of fire big enough that I can see it over the skyline. A heartbeat later, the shockwave hits John then us.

I only stagger back a step from the blast, but John's flight path is wrecked. He tumbles end over end, dropping like a stone. He disappears into a street that's near our front line, but I don't know if he's in front of it or behind it.

I take off across the roof, leaping to the next one easily. Not all of the buildings are that even. The next jump I drop a few stories, tucking into a roll as I land on the hot tar roof. Not losing any speed, I leap to a taller building, grabbing onto the stone masonry and climbing quickly.

A bullet ricochets off the brick near my head, but I ignore it. I'm over the edge before they can get another shot off. When I get to the street where I saw John fall, I grab the railing and jump over it, not entirely sure what I'm dropping in on. My landing sends a shock through my feet and cracks the cement sidewalk.

A group of Marines are clustered around John. One is trying to peel open 'Scout's helmet to check on him while the others are shooting at the imps and demons still scattered throughout the street. The living armor is crushed in on part of the helm and chest plate. I wince at the awkward angle his wings are folded at. One is twisted up underneath him and the other is folded limply across his chest.

I'm not surprised that several guns shift towards me as I approach. I raise my stone hand to protect my head in case they do decide to start firing. "I'm with you guys. BPRD. Name's Hellboy."

Their staff sergeant salutes me and barks out, "Sir, this block is almost secure. We're moving up to Concord Street, sir."

"Uh," I stumble over my words, not really sure what to say to such a formal report. "Carry on." I move past him, crouching down by 'Scout's side.

The medic, or whatever he's called, gets out of my way, "Sir, I can't get through his armor to make official judgment, but it seems like he's just unconscious, sir."

At my touch, the armor folds back from John's face and chest. His expression is serene, almost like he's sleeping. His pale skin is peppered with scrapes and bruises, but they're all old. I don't see any blood other than what was already there. When I work my hands underneath John's back and knees in preparation for picking him up, his eyes open.

"I crashed," he murmurs.

I hold off for a moment, laying him back on the cement, "Yeah, you did. Do your wings hurt, 'cause they look pretty bad."

The steady pop, pop, pop of the Marines' guns finally slows as the last of the demons on this block die. They maintain their position around us for which I'm silently grateful. I don't want to have to check on Boyscout and keep watch for demons at the same time.

John lifts the wing that was draped across him, but struggles to get the other out from beneath him. As he moves, his face scrunches up with pain. I pull him upright so he can shift the wing out from under him. He does so gingerly, hissing as he flexes it. I spot the problem quickly. There's a thin bone protruding from the leading edge of his wing. He broke it pretty badly.

I don't even have to turn to the medic, he's already got his stuff out and is looking intently at John's break. Knowing this is going to be excruciating, I squeeze 'Scout tight to my chest so he can't see what the medic is about to do.

Another shockwave from Manhattan rattles the windows around us. The marines barely move. One of them shouts, "Bunker hit!" and all the others follow it with, "Hoorah," in a deep tone.

The medic places his hands carefully on either side of the break in 'Scout's wing and 'Scout's body arches in my arms. His breath quickens against the side of my neck and I realize that this isn't pain. I have to crush my ridiculous anger at the fact that someone else is making John all hot and bothered. There isn't much of another option if we want his wing set properly.

Sweat is standing out on the medic's brow as he studies the thin bone. He's gotta be way out of his league here. He was trained to do patch jobs on the field to get soldiers back in action, or to keep them alive until they could get to a real doctor. I highly doubt that his training EVER covered how to set an angel's wing.

Suddenly, the medic yanks the wing straight and any arousal that his touch might've caused vanishes. John's scream is loud and long, his fingers digging almost painfully into my skin. He pants when he can't scream anymore, each frantic exhale tinted with a whine or whimper. The medic braces John's wing quickly, folding it up on itself before he wraps the gauze around it.

"Sir, he shouldn't use it for a while, sir," the medic states, but hesitates. When he meets my gaze, I can tell that it bothers him to have to admit, "I don't know for how long, sir. It's not something I'm familiar with."

The Marine farthest out unexpectedly falls to the ground. His body spasms like he's having a seizure. The medic rushes to him, delicately removing his helmet to get a good look at him. I can see the sores and boils from here.

"Demegov," I whisper and feel John tense in my hold.

Another one drops within the group. As I watch, the structure of his face changes. All of the muscle and fat shrivels out from behind his skin, leaving him gaunt in seconds. That isn't Demegov. I don't know what can do that.

All around us, the Marines are dying of disease and starvation. One of them just starts shooting and screaming. His bullets rip into his teammates. When he turns to us, I notice that he's crying blood. He doesn't get a chance to pull the trigger. I snatch a knife from a downed Marine's leg-holster and throw it with more accuracy than I thought I had. The eight-inch Bowie sinks into the soldier's chest. I grit my teeth after the fact, wishing I hadn't had to kill him.

I pick John up and set him on his feet, walking slowly towards the nearest intersection. As I come out into the open, I can see that what happened to our Marines was not an isolated incident. All of the humans are dying. They're collapsing by the hundreds in the streets.

Above our heads, the thick cloud cover finally breaks apart and bright white light streams down on the city. The four figures I see descending from the heavens make my mouth go dry and my guts to twist into agonizing knots.

- TBC

Seriously should only be one chapter left… seriously.
- 16
- 17
- 18
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Lines of Shadow: Sequel to Somewhere Between