All His Angels Are Starving

Nancy didn't know if she should scream too, if she even could. The train car, mostly dark but with flashes of light from people’s phones, had erupted into chaos. It was almost like another earthquake. She stood in the midst of the stampede, as elbows and shoulders knocked into her, as someone screamed into her face to run, surrounded by the thunderous roar of footsteps. As though the fear was infectious, people left the injured behind and followed the panicked crowd through the exit behind Nancy. That door led into the next train car where she imagined the panic would swallow up everyone in there as well. How many cars till they reach the very last one? Where would they go? What were they running from?

Was it a fire? It couldn’t be a fire, she reasoned. If it was a fire, then there'd be more light in the dark tunnel. Everything seemed dark outside the cracked windows. Why had the conductor screamed?

She held onto the pole with both hands, standing as still as possible as the stream of people raged past her. Eyes wide with confusion and terror, sweat glistening in the bouncing phone lights. Most of them were adults, some were teens with their headphones around their throats and oversized bookbags. There were even children, crying as their parents held them close or tugged them along by the hand. Nancy got shoved and tussled, but she held as firmly as she could. Nobody glanced at her twice. This was worse than the crowded subway stations on busy summer morning commutes, people in a rush to pack themselves into a train, desperate to get to work on time.

Sweat drenched her back. Her blouse was torn from the earthquake, and blood ran down the side of her face. She wiped it with the back of her busted hand. Should I run too? Her lips trembled; Jenny and Oliver were ahead. Their school was two stops ahead; why would she turn back and run now?

Besides, where were all these people going? Once they scrambled out of the last car, they'd be stuck in the dark, disgusting tunnel between stations, and it was a long way back to the previous stop. If help was going to come, it would come from ahead.

She wasn't the only one waiting. There was a kid, a dark-skinned boy in a bright orange jacket who was clutching the handrails of a bench tightly. An elderly woman lay on the floor beside him, her head beneath the seat, unconscious, blood pooling from her mouth.

There were others sprawled across the train car floor, some of them groaning, most of them quiet. She wondered how many had been injured during the earthquake and how many were trampled in the mad rush. Screams still echoed all around, drifting up and down the tunnel outside, and a stale breeze blew through the shattered windows. Nancy hobbled toward the boy. He’d started prodding the woman; she must’ve been his grandmother.

Nancy’s legs nearly buckled as she moved from pole to pole, eyeing some of the unmoving bodies, stepping over one or two, until she could lean against the door beside the old woman. Words filled her thoughts like a notification when she looked at the boy.

Human (level 1)

But there wasn't anything like that for the woman, and her head hurt too much to figure out what it meant. There was just enough light to see them both. Someone's phone had been left behind on the other side of the bench, its flashlight still on. Nancy knelt, half collapsing on her knees, to press her fingers to the woman's throat. There was no pulse. "I'm sorry," she whispered, looking up at the boy's wide eyes. He might've been three or four, she wasn't sure. His orange jacket was zipped halfway up, and the colorful t-shirt underneath depicted some superhero blasting a beam of light. Oliver would recognize the character; she had no idea.

"Nana?" the boy asked, his busted lip moving slowly.

She didn't know what to say; she was all burnt out on empathy, but when the boy pointed at the woman again and said something that sounded like "hospital," Nancy nodded and said, "Yes, hospital. People are on the way. They'll help us."

"It's going to be okay," said the boy, eyes quivering with tears. He rubbed his lips, smearing blood across his face. “My dad is hospital.”

"It's going to be okay," repeated Nancy. Did the boy’s dad work at the hospital? Was he a doctor? Or was he a patient and they’d been on the way to visit? Her heart broke imagining that, and she reached out to wipe the boy’s chin but then noticed her own blood smeared all over her hands and thought better of it.

On the opposite bench across the aisle, underneath a wide window that had remained intact, lay a man about Nancy's age. He was on his side, clutching his ribs and glaring at her . He had unruly long brown hair and a mean look, and he puffed out his sweaty cheeks with every shaky breath. His black shirt was torn, revealing a round hairy stomach. "This is all our fault," he wheezed. "All this nonsense with phones and money."

Human (level 1)

Nancy didn’t know how to respond to that. "It’s nobody’s fault," she said. “Help is on the way.”

The man closed his eyes and coughed, his entire body jiggling. "Immigrants," he said. "Always asking for help. You know? Those other folks who dress wrong. Them queers. Illegals. Dirty people. God is angry with us. He is punishing us."

Okay, there's no point talking to this man. Nancy pressed her lips tight and leaned back against the door. The boy still clung to the chair, he was holding his grandmother's hand, and he kept looking at Nancy like she might stabilize him somehow, might save him from this. The echoing screams grew quiet after a while, and Nancy wondered if that entire crowd had gotten away. And if there was a fire, what would she do? She'd pick up the boy and run too. "Help me," she whispered, blinking away tears, trying to ignore the pain, trying to pray. Help me.

Unless this was God taking her away. She’d asked for this. She'd gotten her children back after all. Wasn't that the bargain she'd made?

Not till I can see them, she thought furiously. Not till I can hold them. Only then can you take me.

She knew she was being greedy, but she had to be sure. Were they safe? Were they alright? As if in response to her prayer, a shrill scream sounded way too close for comfort, raising the hairs on her back. This one didn’t sound human. It almost sounded animal, like something enormous and hungry. One of the phone lights flickered out, casting the far side of the train car into darkness. Even the bigoted man went quiet, and the little boy cried out and rushed into Nancy's arms. Her ribs cracked and popped, and she grimaced, but she held him tight, one hand on his curly hair.

“What’s your name?” she asked, trying to keep the boy calm. “My name is Mrs. Huang.” It was a trick she’d learned dealing with young children at one of the old restaurants she’d worked at. If you make yourself sound like a teacher, sometimes they listened.

“Amir,” said the boy in a muffled voice.

“We’re going to be alright, Amir,” whispered Nancy.

The man made a gagging sound. He looked disgusted, his face half lit he as muttered about the ethnicities he couldn't stand, how morally corrupt society had become, how the rapture was finally here to purge- a hand smashed through the window over his bench, and he erupted into squealing as shards of glass rained down.

Nancy held her breath and squeezed Amir as a skeletal arm reached into the train car. It was so thin, just bone with skin stretched over it, but a face emerged next. A shock of white hair and sickly skin, there was just enough light to see it had no pupils. Its eyes were empty and white. Looking into them sent shivers of fear through Nancy’s chest, and all she wanted to do was scream. It was some kind of monster. Like something from those violent video games Jenny played all the time.

The creature pulled itself through the jagged glass of the broken window and coughed up blood, spraying the man crying beneath it. With a hiss that sounded like a snake, it pulled itself over and collapsed right on top of the kicking and crying man, and words filled Nancy's head:

Tarnished Angel (level 5)

“What?” whispered Nancy as the man wailed, struggling to push the creature off.

"Not me!" he cried. "Not me! You don't want me! Take them! They're the sinners!" He pointed at Nancy.

The angel grabbed the man's head and slammed it against the bench. A choked cry escaped the man's lips. He looked utterly shocked. Blood ran down from beneath him onto the floor.

Nancy held her breath as the angel hissed, revealing stained teeth. It looked like a person, someone whose body had been dug up after months of rotting. Its skin clung so tightly to its bones, that even though its body was poorly lit in the dark, away from the phone lights, Nancy could see every bump of its ribs, the ridges of its hips. Long white hair bounced as it knelt forward, as its teeth found the man's throat. He was still crying softly that he'd always been a good servant of the Lord, that he'd gone to Church as often as he could, and that he'd always - his desperate pleas ended with a crunch.

The angel chewed through the man's neck, and Nancy shut her eyes, unable to watch. The sounds were even worse, the chewing and crackling of bone, the wet sloppy smacks of flesh, the blood splattering the floor as the angel grunted and slurped and swallowed. Wet and hot droplets landed on Nancy's face. The angel was making a mess. She flexed all her muscles, going rigid as she held the boy tightly, keeping him from turning around, trying her best not to flinch or make a sound of dismay.

More glass shattered around them. Nancy opened her eyelids as little as she could, trying to see in the dark, wishing one of those phones had slid down this way to light up the space. Or maybe it was better not to look. Did she really want to see these people-eating creatures so clearly?

The angels threw themselves into the car one after another, their skin scraping on broken glass. Nancy tried to count how many bodies she heard bounce off a bench or land on the floor with a thump, but the stench of death, the metallic stench of blood and meat, filled the entire train car. She held her breath. Slowly, as slowly as she could, she reached into her purse with one hand, holding the boy with the other. Her fingers curled around her pepper spray.

Once she had that, once she'd thumbed the cap off, Nancy sat as still as possible, thankful that Amir wasn't moving much either. Every time he tried to turn his head toward the sounds of footsteps and handsteps, Nancy held the boy's head tight and kept him against her chest. She didn't dare whisper to him. Didn't dare breathe too loudly. The creatures moved on all fours, from body to body, sniffing and chewing and tearing off limbs. A few people cried out, but that was followed by a hiss and a choked scream, and then the disgusting sounds of feeding. It reminded her of pigs on a farm, lapping up wet food from a trough.

Above, thuds and scrapes and dragging sounds went along the ceiling. The angels must've climbed on top too; more screams echoed up and down the tunnels and into the train car. The hissing cut sharply through her thoughts, leaving her with nothing but gut-wrenching fear. Nowhere was safe.

Wanting to throw up, Nancy forced herself to look. She counted four shuffling bodies moving. Four, counting the angel chewing through what was left of the horrible man. The angels looked so painfully like people; it confused her. She'd never imagined angels like this; she'd always pictured them as beautiful beings of light and brilliance. Shining servants of God with gorgeous feathery wings. That was how she'd imagined them all her life, standing beside her, protecting her. These creatures looked completely wrong. Extremely underweight, moving as though they had no minds, almost animal-like. Sniffing and eating, like vultures or raccoons. Their bodies glistened from the phone lights, and their shadows crawled all over the walls, then one of the angels screeched, and this time Nancy couldn't help but flinch. She banged her head against the train door and Amir wriggled in her arms.

The angel was clawing at its eyes, wailing as it scrambled over a body. It spat blood and hissed, and then its foot kicked a phone. A flashlight bounced all over, causing one of the other angels to hiss in pain too. It smashed itself against a seat, and the entire train car jolted.

The other angels shuffled around, hissing and crying, and Nancy squinted at the first angel that screeched. It was on its elbows and knees, almost like an injured dog. As it clawed its face, blood dripping from the scratch marks on its forehead and cheeks, Nancy realized what had hurt it.

The light. Someone's forgotten phone, still beaming its flashlight. The angel had walked over it and looked down, and that must be their weakness. Direct light. Their eyes couldn’t handle the light!

Hope clawed its way down her throat. Shaking, Nancy let go of the pepper spray bottle. It took tremendous effort to release her fingers. She had to shut her eyes and inhale slowly to relax. She felt around slowly, sliding her palm over her purse’s velvet lining. Her fingernails bumped against some cards, some cough drops, and the wrapper of some candy bar she'd forgotten about. She winced as it crinkled, but the sound was muffled inside the purse. Where is it?

The first angel finished feasting on the man across the aisle, his wide-eyed face frozen in permanent horror. His throat and chest had been hollowed out, and his ribs stuck out of the fleshy red mess. Bits of him slid off the seat and landed splat on the floor. Another angel came from Nancy's left, sniffing the air, its empty eyes scanning the bodies and searching.

Tarnished Angel (level 3)

Glass crunched beneath its hands. Its shoulder blades moved grossly as it crawled closer to her. It's caught her scent. Her's and Amir’s, she was sure of it.

Come on. Come one! She couldn't find her phone; she was trying not to panic, trying not to let it overwhelm her, but her breath came shallow and brisk. Her lungs refused to work. She couldn’t tell if she was shaking or if that was the boy.

This angel had short hair. Nancy couldn't tell its gender in the dark. It was thin like the others, hunched over and hissing softly. Then its eyes met Nancy's. It locked onto her. She felt it in every single one of her bones.

Baring its teeth, the creature hissed sharply and launched itself, arm outstretched, grotesque fingernails reaching for her.

Nancy gave up trying to find her phone. She grabbed the pepper spray and, with the scream she'd been forcing down this entire time, sprayed the angel right in the face.

The burning mist caught it straight in the eyes and mouth, and the creature's head bounced off the arm rail with an ugly thud. It collapsed to the floor on top of Amir’s grandmother, its skinny, horrible body wriggling in agony as it clawed at its eyes and screeched at the top of its lungs. Its feet jerked blindly, catching Nancy's wrist and knocking the pepper spray from her grip as she slid across the floor to get away, holding the boy tightly.

There was another thump as the angel that had eaten the man slumped onto the floor. Glistening blood rushed down its throat. It opened its mouth and burped. Then it cocked its head, sniffing.

Tarnished Angel (level 6)

Its number had gone up. It ate the man and its level went higher and now it was eyeing her like dessert. She glanced quickly for the pepper spray; it was rolling away from her as the other angel thrashed in agony, but its thrashing had knocked her purse in her direction, and she could see the glossy casing of her phone sticking out.

The angel pounced. She grabbed her phone. Her fingers trembling, panic shuddering through her every movement, she tapped the screen furiously. She found the button for the flashlight and, just as the angel yanked Amir from her embrace, just as the boy cried out and grabbed her blouse, tearing the cloth further, just as the angel's reeking breath wafted over Nancy, she flicked her phone up, and aimed the sudden burst of brightness into its face.

For a horrid, twisted instance, she got a clear look at the angel: the taught, stretched-out skin, the red strands of meat stuck between its decaying teeth, the glossy emptiness of its all-white eyes, the thin hairs of its eyebrows. It released Amir and fell away, screaming in agony. It writhed and splashed in a pool of blood.

Nancy stood, shaking, adrenaline pumping through her injured body. She had a way to protect herself. She shouted for Amir to get behind her as she held the phone in front of her, armed with light. The other two angels moved closer, perched on a bench, grasping a pole and hissing at her. She shone the light in their faces, and they scampered back, arms raised, hissing angrily. They couldn't attack her as long as she had light, but where was she supposed to go?

She figured the footsteps above meant the angels were working their way down the train. They must’ve come from ahead, so they’d be going after that crowd of people earlier.

What the fuck is even going on? How had she fallen into a zombie horror movie? Was this a dream? A stress-induced nightmare? No, it couldn’t be. She was awake. She was sure of it. Everything hurt, and the stench of blood was too thick in her nose. She had to focus right now. She was breathing too hard, trying to calculate, trying to figure out her next step. What were these angels doing here? Were they connected to the earthquake? Were Jenny and Oliver alright?

That message in her head... it had said Rapture. Was this it?

Is this Rapture?

She bit her lip. That didn't matter. She had to get to the surface. If the angels couldn't stand a little flashlight, then surely, she'd be safe above ground. At least until nighttime.

Amir had scampered behind her legs, staring wide-eyed at the angels. She almost told him not to look, but there was no point. He'd already seen them all, and he was shaking too much, and he clung to the back of her legs, crying silently. She had to get him out of here, but they were stuck in a stalemate. A stalemate that would end violently once her phone's battery died.

"Okay," she whispered as the angels hissed. The first two she'd blinded had recovered, but they stayed back, like alley cats on high alert, waiting for an opening to pounce. The one she’d sprayed was bleeding profusely from its eyes, its face red and blotchy. "It's going to be alright," she said loudly, for her own sake as well as the boy's. She tried to sound confident. "We're going to move to the front of the train."

The boy whimpered, but he didn't protest. She'd done the math quickly. She'd been on the train for a while before the earthquake, and they had to be closer to the next stop than the previous one. Everyone who'd run back was probably doomed. Going forward made the most sense, and if help was coming, she could meet them before they got to the train and warn them about these monsters. She swallowed hard, her mind made up.

She stepped back, knelt, and picked up her pepper spray. The boy grabbed something from his grandmother's body, and, after a moment of tapping, another source of light shone from it too.

"Good," whispered Nancy. "We have to hold them back at all sides, okay? Just like a video game. The flashlight keeps us safe. We’ll go to the hospital and find your dad."

The boy nodded fervently, his brows furrowed, an intent expression on his little face. He held the phone with both hands, turning this way and that, and the angels hissed and screeched and scrambled out of their way, bounding across the benches and running into poles with hefty thuds to escape the light. One brushed right past Nancy in its mad rush, and she cried out and stumbled back. But it didn’t have a chance to hurt her; the light had flashed in its eyes, and the creature bolted to the far side of the train car. Breathing hard, Nancy led Amir slowly up the aisle until they got to the heavy door.

She told him to keep his eyes and the light on the angels as she struggled to slide the door open. Beyond it, through the cracked windows, she could see the bloody mess in the next car. One of the overhead lights was flickering, and she grimaced at the sight, but at least there weren’t any angels in there.

“Okay,” she said, turning back and making sure none of the angels had gotten too close. “We’re going to cross over into the other car.”

“Nana says we should never do that,” said Amir, clutching his phone with both hands. His back was to the angels, and she clenched her teeth out of fear. She stifled the impulse to snap at him.

But that wouldn’t help. “This is an emergency,” she said firmly. “Nana wants us to do our best, right?”

He nodded.

Keeping her light on the angel, Nancy motioned for him to go across. “Watch your step. There’s a small gap.” Then she hurried after him, glancing at the train tracks below before shutting the door. All the angels screamed and bolted toward them. Just as she opened the next door, just as they managed to get inside, she heard a series of thuds and shattered glass. She looked back to see two angels struggling to crawl through the door’s window, their heads and arms thrashing against the other.