Phantom Pain (trilogy)

Second in Command

Chapter 13: Second in Command

The first thing I noticed was that I was freezing. Something in my brain reminded me that was dangerous. But it was such a miniscule concern I didn't bother to address it.

The second thing I noticed was that it was the sword—warm at my side—that gave me the energy to keep going.

That was it! The sword. Inspiration hit me right in the face. I unsheathed it, tucking it along side Dariel's body, under the coat.

Please, I thought.

Micheal would never leave a brother behind. The sword had to help him as well. Raindrops landed directly on my scars, and I knew it would have hurt, if the sword had not cleared the air so completely this morning. I ran the clumped piece of wet cloth over his left wing. They looked a little better than when I'd first dragged us onto the roof. There was a little bit of sliver mixed in there, with the lifeless grey.

I the distance I heard voices. Beside the apartment building lay what looked like the roof of a strip mall. It was a little bit lower down, and water from the river periodically slopping over the side. On the far end, figures were pulling themselves up. They were far away, but I knew that one of them was Gavyn.

My hand had paused in my drying of Dariel's wing. He made a sound.

“Brother?” I asked again, ringing out my shirt and stowing it back under the jacket.

There was no answer, but as I pressed my hand to his cheek it was a little warmer. The four figures had paused. I could barely see them through the rain. I could not leave Dariel's side. There was some part of me that would not allow it. Why did they even need to find me? I'd endangered them enough by involving them in affairs of heaven. But they were already so tangled up in this, and I found myself wishing that Gavyn was here with me, and Dez—no matter what she was. A wave of feeling washed over me, and I felt lonely and helpless. I could sense no demons in the area.

Down below, I saw the figure I somehow knew was Gavyn, pointed towards me through the rain. Then they were running. Something about Dariel had changed, I sensed. Lifting his wrist with two fingers, I knew what it was. There was a pulse, weak but evident.

“Dariel,” I prompted, pushing the few tendrils of black hair from his slowly warming forehead.

One of the figures was sprinting, and they were close enough for me to make out their face. It was Dez. My building was about a foot from the long roof, and a half a meter up. Dez didn't even pause. Her running start sent her flying, all the way up so that her knees landed on the edge of the roof.

“Ramie, what the hell were you thinking?” she yelled, anger flashing in her brown eyes.

“Shh!” I pressed a finger to my lips, holding the other one up for her to wait a moment.

Dariel was stirring. He opened his mouth first, raindrops going in just as fast as air. Then he turned and began to cough. His wings stayed plastered to the cement of the roof, and I felt guilt. I should have done a better job. I moved so that I crouched on the side to which he'd turned. Dez waited patiently on the other side, and John was climbing up over the edge.