The sun seemed so bright. The footpath was hard beneath her feet. Her chest was so tight it was hard to take in any air.

As she ran, she kept looking over her shoulder but didn't see anyone following her. Dogs barked as she rushed past her neighbours' houses. A motorbike roared by.

She hadn't run far when she turned at the sound of a loud horn blast. A blue sedan screeched to a halt in the middle of the road. A group of children on their way to school stopped to point up at the sky. The driver of the blue sedan got out and did the same, oblivious to the fact that cars were piling up behind him. More horns honked. People yelled as they waved their arms out their windows.

Kaitlyn looked up and her heart skipped a beat. It was just like she'd seen on T.V. Winged figures. Seven of them. Like giant birds, they soared high above, dark against the sun.

She ran, assuming it had something to do with her. Knowing it had something to do with her. She had no plan, no direction, all she could do was get away somewhere, anywhere, as fast as she could. Had they seen her? Should she hide? And what of those men at her house? Those creatures. Were they really angels? She thought of Father Bartholomew, then of the man with the knife. Her guts twisted sickeningly. It had happened in her living room.

They'd tried to kill her!

More screaming made Kaitlyn look up again. One of the figures was plummeting towards the ground, like a bird spying a fish—and Kaitlyn had a pretty good idea who the fish was. Her legs were aching. Her feet were sore. She was gasping for breath. She couldn't run any longer.

The tone of the screaming changed, and she knew that the plummeting angel was just above—she could feel it, she knew it, like a horrifying pinch at the back of her neck. With a cry, she dropped to the ground and rolled beneath a nearby car.

On her belly, Kaitlyn clawed her fingers into the pavement, her chin braced against the concrete, hoping, praying that they hadn't seen her. Better—that they weren't interested in her at all. That it was just her vivid imagination and her panic.

Hoping was pointless.

She sucked in a breath as a pair of ugly, white feet landed on the footpath beside her with a thud. Further down the road horns blasted, tyres screeched. There was a loud bang! followed by the shattering of grass. More people screamed.

The blood rushed in Kaitlyn's ears as the feet approached. They were covered in twisting blue veins. The nails were chipped and black, as though dead.

The feet paused. Kaitlyn held her breath. He might not know she was there. He could just be looking. He could just be looking around.

Please. Please. Please.

Then he crouched. No cloak or hood this time. A pasty white chest. Long dark hair like a shroud. He was staring at her with those dead eyes. Kaitlyn screamed and attempted to crawl out the other side, but a slender white hand shot towards her and seized her wrist.

It was so icy!

And so strong!

Kaitlyn screamed again as he began pulling her out with a strength that was shocking. Her chin and knees and the tops of her feet scraped painfully against the concrete. Her skirt and blouse rolled up. He kept pulling her out until she was in the open, and she could feel the warmth of the sun beating against her back.

Kaitlyn cried out as he hauled to her feet with his immense strength. He clasped her to him, her back to his chest. He was so cold! In her shock and terror all she could do was sag in his arms as his companions descended, landing around her one by one.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

All identical. All with white chests and dark hair and the same black eyes—and wings. They had wings! Like Jacob but as black as his were white. And they were huge and awesome and horrifying. They were real. They were real!

She could hear sirens now. And there were people. More people had gathered at a distance and were watching in horror and awe, pointing and shouting and crying out. Kaitlyn wished she was one of them. She wished so hard she was someone watching on, rather than the centre of it all.

'Who-who are you?' she croaked to the one holding her.

Silence.

'Let me-let me go.' It was hard to speak. It was hard to breathe. She suddenly felt so tired. Why couldn't everyone just leave her alone?

They all gathered around her, so close she felt like she was standing in a freezer. They were so cold! And their eyes ...

One by one they started grabbing her. Hands with icy grips. Cold, powerful arms that wrapped around her shoulders and waist and hips. White faces. Black eyes. Everywhere. Everywhere. They turned the bright day dark.

Then their wings started beating, and Kaitlyn was forced to shut her eyes against the blasting air. It was so loud. It made her ears ring. It vibrated through her feet. Then, to her horror, she felt herself lifting.

'No!' She desperately tried to squirm out of their grip but they held her so firmly she could hardly move.

Her toes scraped against the ground as her feet completely lifted away. This was it. She was done for. They were taking her away.

But taking her where?

She didn't want to think. She didn't dare. Though she knew. She knew it deep down in her bones. Deep down in her treacherous pelvis. Her arms erupted with goose bumps.

At a sudden flash of blinding light, Kaitlyn turned her head, squinting. Something was happening. What was happening? The bright light—it grew and grew until it made her head throb and her eyes ache even while they were shut. Then she felt herself lowering. Her feet met the ground again. All the cold, hard grips on her body suddenly vanished.

Staggering, she fell down. Her head hit the concrete with a heavy thud. She snapped her eyes open, only to shut them again at another flash of bright light. She rolled over with a moan. Distantly, she heard more shouting and screaming. The sirens echoed.

Then amid it all she heard her name. 'Kaitlyn.'

It was so clear, so close—and familiar. Her heart skipped a beat. But how was it possible? It couldn't be possible. Kaitlyn snapped open her eyes, only to shut them once more. Slowly, she opened them into a squint. Her heart leapt.

She hadn't misheard. It was Zeke. He was crouched down beside her, his amber eyes looking upon her in urgency and concern. His silken black hair flowed darkly over his chest. He gripped her shoulder. 'You have to get up.'

Kaitlyn nodded. Shaking, she managed to get to her knees but it was hard: her heart was beating erratically and her legs felt like jelly. Her whole body felt like jelly. She held onto Zeke as he helped her stand. Her knees buckled and he pulled her against him before she could fall.

'Steady,' he said in her ear.

He felt so warm after the coldness of the others. So alive. He made her feel safe. She was so glad to see him that tears started pouring down her cheeks.

'Zeke, I'm ... I'm ...' Her tongue kept tying into knots.

She held onto him desperately as he half-carried her towards a waiting car, a familiar black sedan. The same that had ridden down the dark angel last night. Carefully, he bundled her into the back. The driver turned to look at her, and Kaitlyn immediately recognised the angel with the stern face and yellow eyes.

Sliding in beside her, Zeke slammed the door shut and the car lurched ahead. Kaitlyn looked over her shoulder through the back window. Much of what she saw was a blur, but she could pick out several black figures—the dark angels, she assumed. They were on the ground as three dazzling figures stood over them. Beyond that she could see nothing. The city was a haze, the people and the whirling police lights smeared into the surroundings against her tears.

Kaitlyn turned back, gripping her knees with trembling hands. 'I'm sorry,' she finally managed.

Zeke looked at her. His face was blurry too. Was he smiling? Was he angry? She didn't know what compelled her to do it, but she lowered her head into his lap. He didn't stop her. Gently, he laid his warm hand upon her cheek, and Kaitlyn closed her eyes.