Tales of the Fallen Book I: Awakenings by Edward Lee, David G. Barnett Page B
Authors: Edward Lee, David G. Barnett
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harsh crashing sound of falling glass.
“Don’t move,” Dew ordered.
Travis did as he was told. But Dew’s massive claw tightened even more over the small man’s face and Travis began slapping Dew’s arm, mumbling in panic beneath the demon’s grip. “Shhh. I don’t want to be seen.” But suddenly Dew let go, realizing it was already too late. They had been seen.
Travis remained silent, looking up, confused. Then he saw it—something plummeting through the night sky…
down, down, down…
…to the street—the street right in front of the alley where Travis and Dew now stood.
««—»»
Travis didn’t think Dew could get any more tense, but he did just that. Dew crouched down as if preparing for an attack.
It quickly became apparent that the falling figure was that of a man. He seemed to fall for a long time. He remained upright, his feet approaching the ground rapidly. For an instant Travis thought that dropping off the side of the building had been a bad idea. This guy was gonna be splattered meat in a few seconds. But at the same time Travis just knew that wasn’t going to happen. And he was right.
As the man reached and then fired past the 15th floor his back erupted. A soul-shattering cry filled the night sky and Travis heard Dew mutter, “Fuck me!” But Travis kept his eyes trained on the man. He continued to scream as a golden light encircled his body. And as he drew closer to the ground he seemed to grow larger. But Travis soon realized it wasn’t the man himself getting bigger, but something behind him. Are those… Travis’ thought got cut short as he realized that, yes, what he was seeing was real and that the man had sprouted a set of large, white wings.
The winged man’s descent slowed, but it was obvious he didn’t know how to use the wings on his back. He wobbled around in the air. His drop became more of an agitated jig as he jerked around, his wings seemingly trying to slow him down. The wings twisted and soon the man was leveling out about 50 feet above the ground. He zoomed to the left, heading down the street away from Dew and Travis. But Dew remained crouched and ready.
The wings twisted again and gave a big flap and the man quickly changed direction and headed straight toward them. The wings continued to flap and the man flew down toward the street. His angle of descent was a sharp one and he hit the ground hard, tucking himself into a tight ball and rolling once he landed.
Travis winced as he saw the man hit the street. Oh, shit! he thought. He half expected Dew to say something smartass, but the demon remained still, his eyes following the rolling, winged man as he tumbled past them.
The man came to rest on his stomach about 30 feet from the alley. He lay there motionless for a few moments. Then he showed some signs of life as his wings twitched. Some soft moans emanated from the feathery mess. And very slowly the man pushed himself up and leaned back until he was kneeling, his upper body slumping to the right. His body shook in sharp spasms as he tried to gather enough air. The spasms subsided as he took a deep breath and exhaled, gaining control over his breathing once again. The man then sighed and stood. He was a little wobbly at first and stumbled over to the side of the street and grabbed hold of a lamppost for support. He hung his head, shaking it from side to side.
Travis wanted Dew to do something. Wanted the man to do something. Wanted someone to do something. So he did. Travis took a hesitant step toward the man. “Jesus, man. Are you alright?” he asked meekly.
Dew put his hand on Travis’ chest, shaking his head.
The stranger straightened up and twisted his neck to look at his newfound appendages. He reached up with his right hand and pensively touched the left wing as if it were a strange dog that would bite him at any second. After a few soft strokes of the wing he relaxed some. He dropped his hand and flapped each wing separately; then both
“Don’t move,” Dew ordered.
Travis did as he was told. But Dew’s massive claw tightened even more over the small man’s face and Travis began slapping Dew’s arm, mumbling in panic beneath the demon’s grip. “Shhh. I don’t want to be seen.” But suddenly Dew let go, realizing it was already too late. They had been seen.
Travis remained silent, looking up, confused. Then he saw it—something plummeting through the night sky…
down, down, down…
…to the street—the street right in front of the alley where Travis and Dew now stood.
««—»»
Travis didn’t think Dew could get any more tense, but he did just that. Dew crouched down as if preparing for an attack.
It quickly became apparent that the falling figure was that of a man. He seemed to fall for a long time. He remained upright, his feet approaching the ground rapidly. For an instant Travis thought that dropping off the side of the building had been a bad idea. This guy was gonna be splattered meat in a few seconds. But at the same time Travis just knew that wasn’t going to happen. And he was right.
As the man reached and then fired past the 15th floor his back erupted. A soul-shattering cry filled the night sky and Travis heard Dew mutter, “Fuck me!” But Travis kept his eyes trained on the man. He continued to scream as a golden light encircled his body. And as he drew closer to the ground he seemed to grow larger. But Travis soon realized it wasn’t the man himself getting bigger, but something behind him. Are those… Travis’ thought got cut short as he realized that, yes, what he was seeing was real and that the man had sprouted a set of large, white wings.
The winged man’s descent slowed, but it was obvious he didn’t know how to use the wings on his back. He wobbled around in the air. His drop became more of an agitated jig as he jerked around, his wings seemingly trying to slow him down. The wings twisted and soon the man was leveling out about 50 feet above the ground. He zoomed to the left, heading down the street away from Dew and Travis. But Dew remained crouched and ready.
The wings twisted again and gave a big flap and the man quickly changed direction and headed straight toward them. The wings continued to flap and the man flew down toward the street. His angle of descent was a sharp one and he hit the ground hard, tucking himself into a tight ball and rolling once he landed.
Travis winced as he saw the man hit the street. Oh, shit! he thought. He half expected Dew to say something smartass, but the demon remained still, his eyes following the rolling, winged man as he tumbled past them.
The man came to rest on his stomach about 30 feet from the alley. He lay there motionless for a few moments. Then he showed some signs of life as his wings twitched. Some soft moans emanated from the feathery mess. And very slowly the man pushed himself up and leaned back until he was kneeling, his upper body slumping to the right. His body shook in sharp spasms as he tried to gather enough air. The spasms subsided as he took a deep breath and exhaled, gaining control over his breathing once again. The man then sighed and stood. He was a little wobbly at first and stumbled over to the side of the street and grabbed hold of a lamppost for support. He hung his head, shaking it from side to side.
Travis wanted Dew to do something. Wanted the man to do something. Wanted someone to do something. So he did. Travis took a hesitant step toward the man. “Jesus, man. Are you alright?” he asked meekly.
Dew put his hand on Travis’ chest, shaking his head.
The stranger straightened up and twisted his neck to look at his newfound appendages. He reached up with his right hand and pensively touched the left wing as if it were a strange dog that would bite him at any second. After a few soft strokes of the wing he relaxed some. He dropped his hand and flapped each wing separately; then both
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