The Certainty (Book Four in The Illusion of Certainty Series)

The Final Fight

I heard the crunch of the metal, the squeal of the tires. I shielded my face from the breaking glass of the windshield. My body flew forward and my head slammed into the dashboard, the lap belt straining against the momentum of the car.

I blacked out for a few moments and when I woke up, Aidan was still unconscious in the driver’s side, his head resting on the steering wheel. He had a cut on the side of his face and blood dripped down his tan skin to drop on his leg. I heard Alvus moan from behind me and I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt. I tried to open my door but it was stuck, unable to open because of the crash. I had to move fast. My first obstacle was to get the restraints off my wrists. I looked around and searched my other boot for my spare knife. I didn’t find it. I looked at Aidan and reached over, searching his boot for a knife. I got lucky.

I pulled the knife out and flipped it around in my hand, ignoring the blood dripping down my face from a cut on my forehead. I cut my wrists free and pulled the gag away from my mouth. I took in several deep breaths but all I could smell was their blood and the burned rubber of the tires. I needed to get out of the car. I looked for escape roots automatically crossing off going out Aidan’s door. I looked back and closed my eyes after seeing Alvus. He had twisted features and horns protruding from his skull. I crawled to the backseat, carefully avoiding Alvus the demon. I pulled up the lock and reached for the handle when Alvus grabbed me by the throat and started to squeeze. I could feel him in my mind, trying to shut me down. But Michael had taught me a thing or two.

I still had the knife in my hand and without thinking I struck out, plunging the knife through his forehead, through the skull and into his brain.

His grip on my throat slackened and he released me. I pulled the knife out and put it through his heart just in case. I left the knife and scrambled out of the car. I stumbled down the alley, pieces of burning ash floating down from the sky which was red. I came to a door and tried to open it but it was locked. I pounded on the door but still no one came. I looked back at the car and saw movement. That was definitely not good. Panic rose in me and I took off down the alley, ignoring the pain and the vivid hallucinations.

Blood ran in the streets of New York. I saw dead bodies in the alleyway I was in, open eyes pleading with me to help them. The buildings were still on fire, all but the one to my right.

I rounded the building and tried the next door I came to and found it unlocked. I slipped inside and spotted the staircase to my left. I took the stairs as fast as I could but I was still making slow progress.

Michael! Michael! MICHAEL!

His name seemed to resonate through the building as well as in my head. Where the hell was he? The stairs emptied to a long hallway and everything was covered in plastic, plastic ghosts looming at me. There was a two story statue of an angel, its base at first floor and stopping just feet from the ceiling on the second. The Angel looked exactly like Raphael and his eyes followed me wherever I went. At one point I thought I saw a tear streak down its face.

Hurry Daughter, his eyes pleaded with me.

 I heard the door pound open on the first floor and I suppressed a scream. I saw a door and ran in, an open huge room in front of me.

“Shit,” I said.

The room was marble, at least two inches of blood on the floor. There was something moving just under the surface, along with bodies, gray and stiff.

Michael!

I stood statue still where I was. I couldn’t move, afraid whatever was under the surface would hurt me. I heard the door open behind me and I couldn’t even turn to see who it was.