The bloody, mauled body of Mr. Kenners, his realtor, lie before him, his brown briefcase punctured with holes. Papers flitted in the breeze and blew across the grass. Blood streaked across the man’s shirt and the surrounding grass. Tarik’s phone slipped from his hand, and he fumbled it back into his pocket. He stood over the copse, examining the nature of the gory wound in Kenners’ belly. It appeared somewhat fresh, the blood not yet congealed. Tarik shifted nervously around the eerily quiet backyard and cautiously hunched over the well, seeing only his skewed reflection in the shallow water within. He scooped out a black feather from inside and pinched it between his fingers. His heart started thumping.

“Dark angels…” Tarik’s breathy whispers huffed out of him as his eyes frantically scouted the backyard. He flicked the damp feather from his finger and scooted around the vicinity. Only a few remaining feathers drifted nearby, but not indicative of a possible direction from where the terror had come. With fear chinking away at his ability to rationalize, Tarik raced back up the ramp and ran in the house. He hurried into Niko’s old room and grabbed the remaining boxes. He peered outside, then hurried to the truck. “No time for this. Kori?”

Tarik moved all across the field, crushing through some shrubs and branches as he entered the woods. Upon stepping through a bush, his boot mashed down on the fleshy head of a Ragurgi man-eater plant. Its prickly roots burst through the soil and wrapped around his leg. Tarik tripped onto the dirt, coming face-to-face with the ghastly, fanged flower. Five others grew nearby, their heads splayed open like bear traps. Tarik reached across his belt to grab his army knife and slashed through the man-eater’s root, then rolled back up and stormed through the clearing.

“Kori? Where are you?” He jumped over rocks, stray man-eater plants, and logs as he anxiously searched. “Damn it, boy! You better listen to me!” Tarik eventually came through a break in the foliage and found himself in a clearing by the brook, a spot he instantly recognized. He ran past a hilly mound of dirt lined with rocks where Verna’s grave lie, barely catching a glimpse of it.

On the other side of the meadow, Kori walked near the water carrying a long stick, poking it in the dirt as he stepped. He saw some rabbits bouncing across the ground, knocking tiny leaves around their trails. “Man, why’s Grandpa so grumpy lately?” He found a tree stump beyond the foliage, and brushed his way into the woods. Kori plopped down and started snapping the stick apart. “Easy for him to be tough, he’s a million times stronger than me.” He tossed a twig into the bushes and saw a yellowish mound peeking from it. “The heck’s that? Looks like a mushroom.” Kori poked it with his finger, and the jaws of a Ragurgi snapped at him. He screamed, and tripped backward. Before he could get up, one of its roots slithered from the leaves and dragged him by the ankle. “Let go!”

Kori got dragged through the prickly brambles as the man-eater snared him closer. Its nasty mouth opened, revealing its sticky, toothpick-like fangs. He rolled aside to avoid its jaws and wriggled his leg. “Help! Grandpa!”

The Ragurgi’s head came down on him again. With no other option Kori quickly grabbed a nearby rock and shoved it inside its mouth. He jerked on the vine to free himself, cutting his hand in the process. After temporarily subduing the plant, he scrambled out of the bushes and ran across the terrain. Kori came back to where he came from and ran outside of the foliage, keeping his eyes ahead of him. He stopped upon seeing another unusual object nestled in the grass. At first glance it looked like just a stick. Curious Kori inched over and kicked it, and it rolled slightly. He picked up the wooden item, confused by its odd markings.

“What is this?” He tried twisting the hefty top head of it, but its rusty, metal latch didn’t budge in the least. A spindly ribbon-like flap hung loosely over its shaft. “It’s shiny. Wonder where it came from?” As Kori’s hand wrapped around it he could feel the vague, round depressions on it as his fingers easily slipped into them. Tiny holes ran alongside the handle, making it almost look like a primitive flute. “Wait’ll Grandpa see this.”

He started running when a hair-raising cry rang across the sky, halting him in his tracks. Tiny black feathers wafted eerily down to the ground, and a shadowy blur surrounded him. Kori looked up to see a dark angel hovering overhead, its foul mouth gaping and red eyes burning through him. With a scream he took off across the field, but the angel clasped his vest with its slender feet and snatched him high into the sky. A sudden outpouring of birds nearby caused Tarik to jump in a panic. He looked up and saw the birds flying past, followed by the fuzzy silhouette of the angel. Kori’s yelping stung his ears, and he trailed behind it as he rushed through the woods.

“Kori!”

“Grandpa?”

“Let him go!” Tarik followed in hot pursuit, his arms thrashing as he burst through the bushes and reentered the field near the house. He raced over to the truck and jumped in, then hit the accelerator and tore down the road, desperately trying to watch the sky and the road. Tarik drove frantically for nearly a mile before coming to a divergence from the dirt road to the main roads. “I can’t follow it from here…Kori?” The boy’s cries fell on his ears, only to be silenced as their distance grew wider. “Shit! No, this can’t be happening!” Tarik kicked the door of the truck, helpless to do anything from there. Before he got back in, another foreign object came buzzing across the air. “What the hell’s that thing?”

From his vantage point he couldn’t see it clearly. A round, metallic apparatus soared on the same trajectory as the angel, appearing to follow it. From within the odd machine emerged a series of bullets. A short chamber protruded from beneath it, firing onto its target. The angel turned its head, shooting glistening magic beams at the impending object. It flew faster, evading the magic waves. A grey sensor over the front of the machine lit up with two orange lights, like eyes. It sped up and followed close behind, firing more shots.

Some of the bullets struck the angel’s backside, and it dropped Kori during the recoil. Before falling, the angel swiped the machine and damaged one of its panels. Both of them plummeted down into the fields below. Kori slammed onto the dusty ground and rolled to a halt. He lifted his head up and saw the angel near him, writhing erratically. He found the odd item he picked up, tucked it in his pocket, and hurried across the field. Before he could get too far the beast stood back up, still disoriented from the impact.

Kori ran across the field and took refuge behind a hay bale, beyond which stood a tall farmhouse. He could see the angel stomping in his direction. Using the scattered hay mounds as cover, Kori weaved through the empty field and approached the building. Hearing the snarling behind him, he crouched around the corner and watched silently. With no other options, Kori turned to run and tripped on a tree root, then flung himself over the fence and tumbled down a slope. He slapped down on the leaves at the base, and shakily stood up. Kori moved as quickly as his fatiguing body could carry him through the wooded terrain, leaving no trace except the tears falling down his face.

CHAPTER FOUR:

“Come on, hurry the hell up!” Tarik said hostilely.

Traffic started picking up, and after he just merged back onto the main roads, Tarik found himself in a steady stream of slow-moving cars. He leaned his head out the window, anxiously scouting the skies. He squinted past the sun, but couldn’t see a trace of the winged interloper who kidnapped Kori. His eyes drifted between the sky and the road in front of him, and he finally swerved into the left-most lane, kicking up a dust cloud in his wake. Tarik drove in the emergency lane and barreled past the other cars. As he passed along the road he found a separate shoulder and pulled out of traffic. He stood near the guardrail and kept his eyes on the sky. Beyond the railing lie an empty field that led into a small commercial area down from the highway. Puffs of smoke whispered along the skyline from some of the rooftops. Still unable to see anything, he angrily shook the metal railing.

“Shit…if only he’d listened to me!” Tarik turned around and watched the oncoming traffic from behind, then looked back over to the field. A factory warehouse stood out in that open area, but amid the scattered machinery parked outside its walls, something drew his eye. Hints of smoke dragged along the grass like a brushfire. “That doesn’t look good.”

He daringly vaulted over the railing, slid down the grass, and ran across the field. The closer he neared, he could make out details in the smoky vapor. A white machine rested beneath the haze, covered with dirt and grass marks. The fumes seeped from a gnash in the anterior part of the apparatus, its cracked, black frontal screen flickering sporadically with yellow lights. Fragments of the machine’s side rudders littered the area. Tarik carefully picked up the heavy machine and flipped it over onto the grass, knocking various screws and bits from place.

“What is this thing?” A small panel displayed on its backside, littered with codes, serial numbers, and bar coding. He wiped some dirt off it and inspected the label. “This some kind of satellite? Never seen anything like it before.”

Printed in tiny lettering at the left side of the label read: Property of Aiga Innovations, LLC. Manufacturing ID: 002:A

“Aiga…” After snapping some photographs of the odd contraption, Tarik hefted it under his arm and made his way back to the road. He tossed the machine into the back of the truck and got back in. Tarik wiped his eye briefly, turned on the ignition and merged back onto the highway. “I’m gonna kick myself, but this might be my only lead now.” While he sat at a stop light near an intersection, Kori’s backpack in the passenger seat caught his eye. His geology book lie there along with the half-drunk soda can. Tarik gripped the wheel. “If anything happens to him…please…”

The sun passed along the sky overlooking the highway beyond Senigot City. Rush-hour traffic crept along the intricate highways. Tarik passed through a toll booth, dropped some coins in the receiver, and kept driving until he diverged onto the exit ramp. He approached some of the security booths near the end of the winding roadway. “They tore the walls down?” After pulling along one of the security stations, an officer waved him down. He rolled down his window and looked down to the woman. “Evening, Officer.”

“Where’re you headed, sir?”

“I’m actually looking for a police station. I’ve got an emergency.”

“I can help you with that, although be aware you were riding in an unauthorized lane,” she said.

“What? Where?”

“This lane is only to be used by security personnel. Did you not see the exit sign?”

Tarik sighed. “Apparently not. I’m sorry, I haven’t been here in years. Didn’t even know this was here.”

“Your license, if you will, sir.” He begrudgingly took out his wallet and handed her his ID. “Tarik Sandori? And you say you haven’t been here before?”

“No, I used to come here all the time. Is there a problem?”

She gave him back his ID. “As I mentioned, this offramp is only to be used by authorized personnel. What exactly is your emergency?”

“My grandson was just kidnapped!”

“By whom?”

“It…oh God, never mind, just tell me how to find the police station. I need to find my friend.”

“Your friend?” He looked at her awkwardly, becoming increasingly clammy behind the collar. “Mr. Sandori, please exit the vehicle.”

“Are you…?” Tarik reluctantly got out and stepped down while she held a hand by her firearm. He held up his hands. “Look, I’m not dangerous.”

The guard took out her flashlight and stepped up into the truck. “Just stand over there for now, Mr. Sandori.” She searched the vehicle and came across the damaged machine in the rear. “Sir, what is this you’ve got in here?”

Tarik turned around. “What—oh, crap.”

She walked back over to him. “Hands over your head. Where did you find this?”

“It was lying in a field about thirty miles from here.”

“Why did you take it?”

“Ma’am, I don’t even know what the hell it is! Can you help me out here?”

She reached around her back. “Well, I’ll help you out right now. You're under arrest. Hands behind your back.”

“For God’s sake.” Tarik allowed himself to be handcuffed, and slid into the woman’s police car. She stood behind the truck and took out her radio.

“Car #14, I got a suspicious object in a blue Fortin pick-up truck by the front station. I need your car down here to haul it back to headquarters. Have them run a search for Tarik Sandori.”

“Copy that, Olivers. On my way now,” the officer responded.

She sat back in her car. “So, Mr. Sandori, tell me more about this kidnapper,” Olivers said, staring into the rearview.

“I could tell you a thousand times and you still wouldn’t believe me.”

Olivers raised her brow. “Unless he was taken by a magic, floating demon, I doubt that’s the case.”

Tarik rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what it was. Shit, you called that one. Why ain’t you readin’ palms in an alley somewhere?”

“If you want to entertain me, go ahead. If you really need help you’ll tell me where you got that suspicious device. Your choice.”

The other police car arrived and pulled beside her. The officer got out and saluted Olivers. “This the truck here?”

“Yeah. We need to get it analyzed. Take it with you while I book Mr. Sandori.”

“Roger.”

Olivers turned on her lights and drove down the road past the security station and into the city.

“I assume I’ll at least be able to explain myself?” Tarik said.

“You’ll get your time to talk, don’t worry. Just make sure you get your story straight before we get there.”

They eventually pulled outside of the police station down the block in the executive part of town. She escorted Tarik up the steps and into the building, then entered her clearance code on the grid and greeted some other officers.

“Olivers, is this the man you told us about?”

“Yes. Car #14 is coming with the vehicle and object in question. If you can call the lieutenant we can finish the report,” Olivers replied.

“I’ll get on it.” He approached some other workers behind the glass windows and had them call their superior’s direct phone line. “Here’s his file. Quite more than I expected.”

“Sure is. Nice work. Hopefully this case won’t take long.” Olivers directed Tarik over to a bench and had him sit. “Lieutenant Golda and I are going to speak with you privately.”

Tarik’s head rose up. “Golda?”

“Something wrong?”