Johnny's thoughts raced faster than his bike could go, but that didn’t stop him from trying to outrun them. He rode out of the city, squinting his eyes against the garish bright light of the sun that still threatened to break through the clouds in places. He hated wearing a helmet, and he knew from experience that it didn't matter one way or the other if he wore one or not. He'd wiped out on his bike before, and Johnny had always come out without a scratch. He wore the annoying helmet solely for the boys' peace of mind.
Johnny had moved into Anthem City for a reason. He'd had a change of heart, mind, and spirit. He wanted to reinvent himself and become something better. He'd taken a large amount of cash from the safe in his home, thrown two saddle bags of the things he wanted to keep on his motorcycle, and ridden away. He had decided to adopt the name Johnny, and when he met his new friends on the stoop, he told them that his aunt had died and left him the apartment he now lived in.
In truth he'd simply seen that there was a vacancy, paid the astonished landlady in cash for ten years of rent, and settled in. It wasn't five star, but it was enough for him. He didn't need a lot of space, he didn't have many belongings, and he found the lack of fuss refreshing. He'd taken up providing for Billy from the start, feeling sorry for the poor orphan boy. Over time the boys had all become the first healthy family to him that he'd really ever known.
The large metro area of Anthem and surrounding suburbs housed a population of 600,606 and Johnny felt like that was a satisfactory number of people to get lost in. What he had always loved most about Anthem were the winding mountain roads just past the carefully cultivated gardens of the suburbs. He discovered that no matter how long it had been since he'd moved into the city there was nothing as soothing as riding through the familiar, shady hills. Here the asphalt led through over-arching trees, rolled next to murmuring creeks, and the road twisted up to the ridges where the old strip mines now were silent, steep pitches.
Johnny could let his mind whirl, but today his thoughts were fixed on the strange beauty he'd seen fifteen minutes before. There was a quality about the girl that snagged something in him, something familiar that stirred up ashes of memories he was sure that he’d burned away long ago. He thought of her smiling face, and an odd tension in his chest made breathing sting as though he'd breathed in frigid air. He picked up speed on his bike, inhaling and exhaling slowly to settle himself.
In an old life he'd had dreams of a stranger with rippling honey-blonde hair, clad in white and shining like silver. She always passed him by like a blur in the first dreams of her, and in later dreams he knew he was with her, but he could never see her face. Johnny was certain of only two things in those dreams; the woman was a queen, and he felt something for her that manifested as sharp, pure pain. He wasn't even certain that the feelings he had for this dream-girl were real, or that he had the capacity to feel them at all, but the dreams had haunted him for so long they had become a part of him.
He zig-zagged in and out of the lanes, trying to focus on the road, pushing his bike to take him faster. He was afraid that if he let his past keep eating away at him that he would spiral back down into the person that he had left behind in the smoke from his spinning tires. He let the clutch out, shifted into fourth gear, and shot around the curves. The trees on the side of the road flew by in blurs as the clouds above his head parted a little more, letting light leak in streaks through leafy branches onto the asphalt.
He was steadily climbing Woodcrest Road, soon to reach his favorite pull-off spot up on a ridge. From there he could see the whole city. It reminded him of home, and at the same time reminded him of nowhere. It was simply somewhere to be and not think of anything in particular. Sometimes, he would imagine himself taking off at a run and jumping from the bluff to take off soaring. He never let himself linger on that notion too long before he shoved it back down to that same dark place he stored everything else.
Just when he was about to reach another sharp curve, something silver glinted in the beam of the setting sun, bright enough to completely blind him for a moment. It was gone just as suddenly as it had come, but it was already too late. He hit a patch of loose gravel and his bike swiveled out of his control causing him to wipe out hard, the bike’s momentum carrying him over the steep ridge along with it.
He rolled with the motorcycle, down eighteen feet to the bottom of the old strip pit. Johnny didn't hit as hard as he had expected to, but it was still enough to knock the wind out of him. He untangled himself from the bike, his hands flying up to take off his helmet to inspect it, expecting at least a few scrapes or gouges. There was nothing wrong with the helmet, at all. “What in the Hell?” he whispered to himself.
Johnny groaned and turned over on his side, feeling annoyed, but otherwise fine. He laid there for a moment catching his breath, noting that his bike was on fire. He reached his hand out quickly hitting the kill switch, cutting the engine. “Damn it,” he took a deep breath in, preparing to put the fire out, but a familiar, minty-cold gust of wind blew around him and blew out the fire like it had been nothing more than a candle on a birthday cake.
He let his breath out slowly, sitting up straight as he blinked a few times in confusion. There weren't even scorch marks on the motorcycle where there should have been damage. Johnny knew that he hadn't shielded it, but somehow the bike looked to be in almost perfect condition, albeit sideways. He stood up slowly and looked around the pit completely bewildered. “I'll say again...What the Hell?”
“You’re okay, Johnny,” he thought he heard a soft voice say behind him. It sounded like wind chimes in a slight breeze, or the distant tolling of a cathedral bell.
Johnny wondered whether or not he truly was in his right mind. What I think is happening can't actually be happening, can it? Why is it happening? he asked himself. He turned to look behind him, but there wasn’t a soul to see. “Where are you?” Johnny asked as he narrowed his eyes. No one answered his question, but out of the corner of his vision he could swear he saw the little flash again; like silver jewelry caught in sunlight. He furrowed his brow in suspicion, turning his head quickly to get a better look, but there was only rock and the steep slope up to the road. “So, we're playing games, then. How impish of us.”
Johnny dusted off his clothes that were a little worse for wear and torn in places, then grabbed the handles of his bike turning it upright. He looked around one more time and shook his head slowly as he walked his motorcycle through the low part of the pit to a hill near the road. Johnny slung his leg over the bike and kick-started the engine, without a single sputter. “I'll be damned,” he said, surprised at the fact the motorcycle started at all.
He scanned the area around the old quarry one more time, but all was quiet and still. “Cute. Very cute,” he whispered to himself, then made his way back into the city, deciding that he'd had enough fresh air for one day. When Johnny got back to the stoop twenty minutes later Timothy, Billy, and Ricky were waiting there, ready to go out for the evening.
“Well, men. Look here. Johnny has returned to us in one piece again,” Ricky crowed.
“Not for lack of trying,” Johnny muttered as he hit the kill switch and kicked down the stand of the bike.
“What?” Billy asked. “Did you wreck?”
Johnny climbed off of the motorcycle and looked down at his dusty torn clothes before turning his eyes back to Billy, arching a brow. “What makes you ask that, son?”
“Pops...You gotta be more careful!” Billy said, his eyes wide. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine. It's nothing.” He waved a hand dismissively as he walked wearily toward the stoop. “You guys ever think about gettin' hobbies? I think sittin' around here's makin' me too soft,” he said, a hint of his occasional Anthem accent creeping into his voice.
“Nah, we're doin' great! Aren't we fellas?” Timothy asked, straightening his shirt collar.
Billy eyeballed Timothy skeptically. “I'd be doin' better if your shirt wasn't fryin' my eyeballs. The 70's called and said they don't want that shirt back, and to burn it.”
“Don't be jealous, William,” Timothy said with a glare.
“Sometimes I miss the seventies. They were eventful,” Johnny grumbled.
“How old are you, Pallbearer?” Ricky asked, shaking his head.
“Too old, Rick. Too old,” Johnny sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“You just need another beer, Pops,” Billy said. He looked around, and then patted his pockets as if he would find a spare beer hidden on his person. “Well, damn. Guess we drank it all.”
Johnny shook his head, but smiled. “I think you need to call it a night, Bill.”
“No way! We're goin' to The Inferno! Just got word that Rise From the Ashes, is playin' tonight. We're not missin' seeing Franky and his band play! Lots of 'pretty ladies' are said to be attending,” he said, making quotes in the air with his fingers, casting a pointed look of amusement at Billy.
“Well, I'm out. I'm gonna go upstairs and maybe catch something on TV. Surely something good has to be on television on a Sunday,” Johnny pushed the door open with his foot and paused in the entryway to finish farewells to the boys.
“You do that all the time, Pops. You can miss one episode of The X Files,” Billy half-whined. “Come on!”
Johnny put a hand up. “Not tonight, Bill.”
“Suit yourself, but you're missin' out. I bet we see that girl there tonight, and one of us lucky boys are gonna go home with her.” Timothy laughed and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. There was a silence as the three boys watched for Johnny's reaction.
“Tim, not one of you has that much luck,” Johnny said. He grabbed his leather jacket off of a hook by the door and slung it on. “Okay. You know what?” Johnny huffed, pulling the door shut.“Which way is this Inferno? I'm in.”
“I told you! I told you the girl would get him to go!” Ricky cackled, punching Timothy in the shoulder lightly. “Right this way, Mr. No-Fun.” Ricky took a wobbly bow as he held out his hand.
“You're not gonna change clothes?” Timothy asked, arching an eyebrow.
Johnny looked down at his clothes again. “Why?”
Timothy narrowed his eyes and tilted his head as he pointed at him. “Why? John, you look like you got in a fight with a paper shredder, and it killed your clothes.”
“You act as though I haven't fully educated all of you boys on something called punk rock,” Johnny said, looking at Timothy pointedly before walking down the steps past the boys to stand on the sidewalk.
“The jacket completes the look. Seriously, though, how are you wearin' that? It's still so hot!” Billy said, pulling at the collar of his shirt so puffs of air blew onto his face.
“It's not that hot. The sun's going down!” Johnny said as he pointed at the sky.
“Sometimes do you feel like you could just...” Timothy said, turning to Ricky, gesturing to Johnny with a tilt of his head as he strangled the air.
“Often, yes. Often,” Ricky chuckled.
“You could try, boys. You could try,” Johnny said, grinning as he quirked up an eyebrow.
They filed out from the stoop, and as they walked Billy and Timothy started singing Bad Moon Rising, warbling in and out of key intentionally, while Ricky repeatedly told them to can it. Johnny followed behind with his hands in his pockets, laughing to himself. He knew that all four of the boys could sing, and sing well, but they loved to torment one another. One of Ricky's peeves, in particular, was poor pitch. “I would never have let you listen to CCR at all if I'd thought this would be the end result. The neighborhood can't stand the menace. Even the dying cats are covering their ears,” Johnny joked with a grin.
The scalding heat of the day had finally given way, but the evening was balmy and blustery. People were coming out of their buildings to sit on their own stoops, or taking a walk through their neighborhood to shake off the confinement of staying in all day. The climate in Anthem was normally fairly moderate and cool, so the high temperatures had caused people to avoid being out in it, hiding from the intense heat.
The sky was now fully covered by clouds that reflected back the lights from the city, and as the street lights blinked on thunder rumbled far in the distance. Five blocks of walking, and one turned corner, had the four men standing in front of a pub with a big neon sign in the window that said The Inferno Pub. Spray painted beneath that on the brick wall was a message: Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here. “What's that supposed to mean?” Johnny asked, arching a brow.
“It means what it means, Pops.” Billy smiled and waved his hand in the air as if he'd just explained something deep.
“Those are just words, boy. You're just sayin' things.” Johnny squinted in confusion.
“It's a motif! Like you're supposed to be enterin' into Hell. Go with it, Pallbearer!" Ricky said, clapping Johnny on the shoulder as he followed Timothy and Billy into the pub.
“Go with it?” Johnny threw his hands up in the air and then let them fall and slap against his thighs. “Why do places like this always think that Hell is a party?” Johnny asked, but his friends didn't seem to pay him any mind, too busy looking around the pub to listen.
The Inferno had black walls with flames painted up from the floor to appear like the room was on fire, there were a few neon signs on the wall advertising cigarettes or alcohol, and there was a jukebox against the wall by a pool table. The bar itself took up a decent portion of one side of the room and on the other side there was a small stage where Johnny could see Frank's band mates, James, Jason, Chris, and Aaron setting up their gear. The pub was only half full of people, but Johnny guessed as the night went on more people would come in.
“Hey, Pallbearer!” Frank said enthusiastically. Johnny arched an eyebrow as he looked over Frank's appearance. The boy looked far less like his older brother than he normally did, dressing the part of the rock star for the special occasion. He leaned against the bar next to Johnny, a beer in his hand and a big grin on his face. “This place is awesome! They don't check your age.”
“I've noticed,” Johnny said, looking from Frank's beer over to where Billy stood talking to one of the other members of Rise From the Ashes, holding a beer in each hand. “I see now why Billy was so excited about this place. No ID necessary.”
“Yeah, well, we'll both be eighteen soon,” Frank said with a shrug.
“You'll be eighteen in four months. Billy won't be eighteen for a year and seven months,” Johnny said, arching a brow.
Frank waved his hand. “He'll be fine. You know we'll all watch him! It's a party!” Frank clapped Johnny on the shoulder before walking back over to the stage.
Johnny shook his head shot a wary look at the boy as he moved away from him before sitting down at one end of the bar. He studied the crowd, ordering himself a glass of whiskey, neat. Since I'm here I might as well enjoy myself, he thought. Before he knew it an hour had passed and the band had begun the show, walking up onto the stage to whistles and howls. The people in the pub slowly gravitated together to stand and listen to the music.
Frank started singing some cover songs from the 70's and 80's that Johnny recognized from his own record collection, and he smiled to himself as he tapped the heel of his boot on the foot-rest of the bar stool. One thing that all of the boys had picked up from him as they'd grown up was an appreciation for good rock music. Gradually the band worked in some of their own original songs to loud applause, and somewhere in the crowd he heard Billy cheering loudly.
People were dancing and singing and enjoying themselves, as the crowd ebbed and flowed. Some people rejoiced in the music, and others had tears streaming down their faces. It was interesting to Johnny how music could move people in different ways, and he wondered why the music was making him feel anxious. He liked the songs, and Rise From the Ashes was talented, but he found that the more they played the more unsettled he became. He'd always liked his music loud and his melodies dark, but Johnny couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering.
He found himself longing for his old records at home. The records were a few of the only things he had taken from the place he had lived before he moved into the apartments. In his life before his paramour Saraqael would play his favorite songs when he was in a particularly dark mood, and it would be reprieve from the horrific monotony that his life had become. It was only when he listened to music that he could get a sense of what happiness might feel like.
Sara would smile at him as they danced and sang along late into the evenings before climbing the stairs to her room together. Sara could be overbearing and demanding, but in those moments, listening to those records together, she seemed to be something better than she was. Johnny had known that it was all just an illusion, though, and after a while he’d grown weary of every aspect of his life. Despite Saraqael’s protests, he had cut and run, and he had finally found some kind of peace and balance, though every now and then he found himself wondering what Sara was up to.
Johnny took a deep breath. He ordered his fourth whiskey and told the bartender to make it a double. He rarely let himself walk down memory lane, but the events of the day had gotten under his skin more than he'd thought they had. Saraqael had known about the dreams he'd had long ago about the woman with the honey-colored hair. She had taken to dying her hair to try to fit the description of the woman he couldn't get out of his mind. Though she was only a dream, Saraqael was jealous of the woman and his fixation on her. She had never managed to get the shade right, and finally she'd simply taken to bleaching her brown locks because she found she liked it.
The girl he had seen that evening had the perfect shade of honey blonde hair, matching his dream exactly. Her dress had been white, and the silver shine was there in her anklet, but his instincts told him that the girl would upend his life. He could sense that she was cloaking power that she possessed, likely thinking that he wouldn't be able to detect her energy through her shielding. He also knew that she'd been at the pit with him that afternoon, but he couldn't figure out why she would be there, or why she would help him out when his gut feeling was that she sought him out to cause trouble.
“Hey, Johnny!” Timothy shouted, next to him suddenly, making Johnny jump and clack his teeth on the rim of his glass.
“Hell, Tim! Easy, kid!” Johnny scolded.
“Whoa—jumpy. Just wanted to see how you liked the place!” Timothy called over the music, clamping his hand onto Johnny's shoulder.
“Feels homey,” Johnny drawled, cutting his eyes down to stare into his whiskey glass.
“What?” Timothy held his hand to his ear.
“It's alright!” he said loudly, right into Timothy's ear.
Timothy flinched at the volume with which Johnny had called to him, but then he smiled and nodded. He danced as he backed his way into the crowd holding the beers he'd signaled for before he'd startled Johnny.
Johnny noticed that the crowd was only getting thicker, and he was starting to really feel the weight of the day. He'd had enough of everything, and it seemed like the girl wasn't going to show up so that he could ask her what she wanted, so there wasn't much point in staying. He asked the bartender for one last beer and drank it down before checking on where Billy and the boys were, then closed out his tab.
As Johnny pushed open the door to The Inferno he heard the first strains of the band playing a cover of The Promised Land by Bruce Springsteen and he spared a glance behind him to see everyone in the bar start dancing. Though he loved the song, he just couldn't find any interest in staying.
I've never been this bored, he thought. No, that's wrong. I absolutely have, but I haven't been this bored since...Castile, maybe? Isabella I's court? Hell, that was terrible. He stepped out under the awning of the building, just as the sky finally broke and rain cascaded down. He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and cast his eyes up, frowning a little at the scent of mint and the sudden dip in temperature.
“You can't go out walking in this monsoon,” someone said quickly from beside him.
“Shit!” he blurted, caught off guard. Johnny had felt her presence next to him before he had seen her, but he was still startled. People popping up next to him was getting old, and for her to get so close before he knew what hit him meant that he was definitely losing his touch. “Tap a guy on the shoulder first or something. Wow...”
“Sorry to scare you,” she said, smiling. “You didn't notice me before?”
“No,” Johnny said, stepping back inside the pub, holding the door open for the girl. “I didn't notice you coming. I've been distracted today.” Johnny crossed his arms over his chest. He was actually feeling nervous around her, and Johnny had never been nervous in his existence. It just wasn't part of his composition. He was well trained, he'd lived a very long life, and he had seen things that would terrify most people. I am a thing that would terrify most people, he thought to himself grimly, setting his jaw as he wondered why this girl seemed so at ease around him. “I'm a little out of sorts.”
She laughed softly. “Out of sorts? A guy like you—wearing a leather jacket in July? You have to be some kind of tough guy.”
She looked up at him with her glittering, amber eyes and he felt his breath catch a little before he got himself together. “Yeah, not so tough today. My name's Johnny,” he said, putting his hand out to shake hers. He braced himself for the shock he suspected he'd receive from touching her.
“Jenny,” she said, taking his hand and holding it. She seemed to blink a little in surprise, just as Johnny felt the electric sensation he had anticipated. The feeling was faint, but he knew that had to do with her trying to cloak her power, and his suppression of his own. He pulled his hand away swiftly, and her smile faded a little, but she didn't seem to be dissuaded from talking to him.“Johnny and Jenny. Sounds musical, I think.”
She bit her bottom lip and Johnny found his eyes darting down to her mouth as his pulse picked up its pace and the ache hummed. Get it together, Johnny, he said to himself. She's trouble. Sometimes dreams are just dreams. “I'm particular about my music,” Johnny said, straightening his spine, planting his feet so his balance was better in case this turned into a fight. “I think I've got your number now, lady.”
Her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up, seeming to notice that he was on the defensive. “Oh! No! This isn't what you think,” she said, putting up her hands as though to show she wasn't a threat.
Johnny put his hands on his hips.“What is it then? You're the first angel I've seen on Earth in a thousand years aside from Azrael, and Az and I are not on speaking terms at the moment. I'll have you know that I'm retired.”
“I know that. I'm not here on orders,” Jenny said. “I'm retired, too!”
“Angels don't retire,” Johnny scoffed.
“Neither do demons, but here you are.” Jenny raised an eyebrow, a touch of annoyance in her tone. “So why are you heading home when everyone else seems to be staying?” she asked trying to change the subject and shift the mood.
“It's late. I've had an eventful day. An angel distracted me while I was out riding this afternoon, and I wrecked my bike into an old strip pit.” Johnny tilted his head. “You see why I grow weary.”
“It's not really that late, and I did protect your bike from getting damaged,” she said.
“It wouldn't have needed protecting if your dainty little ankle trinket hadn't caught the sunlight and blinded me,” he argued. “What are you doing down here alone? Shouldn't there be at least fifteen of you?” Immediately he wondered why he should care, but he did.
“I told you, Johnny. I'm here on my own. I've run away,” Jenny said with a nod of her head.
Johnny studied her for a second. She smiled at him sheepishly, and he narrowed his gaze. “You really ran away? You ran away from Heaven? From icy cold tranquility?”
“Yeah, well, there are some things that Heaven doesn't have,” she said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.
Johnny narrowed his eyes, wondering why the expression on her face and the question in her eyes was rattling him.“Really? And what is it that Heaven couldn't offer you?”
“Things like...Alcohol?” she said, looking around the bar, obviously not revealing what she was really talking about.
“Angels are really terrible liars, you know that?” He took a deep breath and then sighed it back out. “I'm too tired to figure out why you're really here. I'll let you off the hook this time, Jenny. Pleasure to meet you. Goodbye, Jenny,” Johnny said, putting his hand on the door handle to walk home, rain or no rain.
“Hey, Johnny, wait! Please, just stay for one drink? It would be nice to have somebody to talk to,” she said, tugging on his jacket sleeve.
Johnny was wary, but he knew that even if she was trying to pull something over on him, she wouldn't do it in front of all of these people. Johnny offered his elbow to her and she put her hand in the crook of his arm, the tight feeling in his chest increasing. “You might not believe it but I am a gentleman.”
“Why wouldn't I believe it?” she asked with a smile and a shake of her head. Jenny's eyes sparkled, and Johnny wondered if she had ever been sad in her life. Joy seemed to roll off her in waves, and Johnny found it almost infectious.
“Being a demon...we're generally mislabeled as vulgar, hedonistic assholes,” Johnny chuckled.
“You made a pretty good first impression.” She cast her eyes to the bar top as she shrugged one shoulder before looking back up to meet his studying gaze. The bartender came over and Johnny ordered them both a beer.
“I try not to make an impression at all, if I can get away with it. I exist, and sometimes—whether I can help it or not—people notice me. Like those boneheads out there in the crowd and up on the stage,” Johnny tipped the neck of his beer bottle to gesture toward Ricky, Timothy, and Billy who were cutting up with each other and some girls they'd met to the strains of the music of Frank's band.
“You're lucky to have them,” Jenny said, making a face as she sipped the beer. “They're lucky to have you, too.”
Johnny knit his brow. “Why do you say that?”
Jenny stared at him with her eyes wide. “What?”
“Why did you say that they're lucky to have me?” Johnny asked.
She cut her eyes to the side and took a few gulps of the beer the bartender set down in front of her. “I just—” She paused in speaking to take a deep breath, seeming to be sorting her thoughts. “I just figure that you'd be a good friend to have. You know, being a demon you can protect them and...you know.”
Johnny considered her for a moment. “You're a strange one, Jenny.”
Jenny laughed, yet she still seemed nervous. “Oh, I'm aware. Trust me,” she said, taking another long drink from her beer.
“I'm attempting to. Are you sure that you want to hang out here?” he asked over the music that seemed to be getting louder.
“Yes! This is amazing! Humans doing human things? Being here among them after just watching them for so long?” she yelled back. She stood and worked her way through the crowd to the dance floor near the stage.
Johnny shook his head when she beckoned him to follow. “I do not dance anymore,” he said, knowing that she wouldn't hear him.
“Johnny!” Ricky shouted right in his ear. Johnny spun and Ricky kissed him on both cheeks as if he was greeting him.
“What the Hell, Rick?” Johnny wiped what must have been gin off of his face and then smacked Ricky lightly on the shoulder. “Where's Billy?”
“No idea!” Ricky called with a shrug.
“You and the other boys are supposed to keep an eye on him, Rick! That Summer Slaughter killer is still on the loose and I don't want any of you getting into trouble!” Johnny shouted.
“I'll find him, Pallbearer! He's here somewhere, you know. He's fine! Hey, I saw you come back in with the girl!” Ricky yodeled. “All I heard while we were getting ready earlier was how she was gorgeous and how she actually turned your head!”
“Yeah, I—” Johnny looked around the pub for Jenny, not finding any sign of her. “Wait, where did she go?”
“Haha! She ditched you!” Ricky giggled, then cheered as he saw someone he knew as he danced over to them.
Johnny scanned the room for Jenny, then stood to walk around to see if he could spot her. He could still feel that she was somewhere nearby, but she wasn't in sight. Johnny was very tall, but he wasn't tall enough to see over the sea of people. Finally, after checking to make sure that no one was looking, he leapt up and balanced gracefully on one foot.
He stood on top of a bar stool near the abandoned pool tables, looking out over the crowd as heads bobbed in time with the rhythm, and swayed with the melody, but he didn't see Jenny at all. It was like she had disappeared without a trace, but then he noticed something that made him freeze, worry rolling over him. “Cambion,” he growled to himself. Johnny caught just a glimpse of Jenny's white dress and wispy curls as she was escorted out of the back exit by a man and a woman in drab, dusty gray clothes, and he recognized the energy signature of them immediately.
He jumped down and fought his way through the melee, finally squeezing out the back door into the alley, only to find that Jenny and the two bottom-feeder, demon spawn that she had left with were gone. He ran down the alley to where it opened to the street, but other than a rain-drenched couple making out against the window of a closed down shop front, and one stray cat sniffing around a discarded food wrapper, there were no creatures to be seen.
“Where could they have gone?” Johnny looked left and right, but didn't see any sign of them, and there were no indentations in the sidewalk or roadway that hadn't been there before, so he knew they hadn't gone through the ground. He let out a sigh that turned into a groan of frustration. He didn't want to be caught up in anything with the world he'd left behind, but for some reason unknown to him found that he didn't have the heart to let the angel suffer. He cast his eyes up to the clouds overhead, light rain falling down onto his cheeks, steaming as they touched his skin. Johnny knew if he was going to find Jenny, he'd need to start looking downward instead.
“Back into Hell,” he said, resignedly to himself. It was at just that moment that the entire city of Anthem went dark. “Shit.”
