Thirty minutes later, as the sun set behind the Smoky Mountains, Angel parked the van among some pickup trucks and off-road vehicles in a clearing beside the road. Peering out the driver's side window, he spotted about twenty people already starting to move into the forest.
In the passenger seat, Charlotte surveyed the scene. "It's crowded."
"That's good. They'll make enough noise that any sound you make will blend in." Turning his chair around, Angel retrieved his duffel bag, unzipped it, and rummaged inside. Drawing out a small box, he opened it and pried out an earpiece.
"Here, wear this," he said, handing it to her. "When you're out there, you'll be able to hear me and respond. If you find the boy—"
"When," she cut in firmly.
"When you find the boy," he corrected himself as he continued to extract items from the bag. "Call me, and I'll come get you."
"How will you find me?"
Unzipping a side pocket, he pulled out a smart tag, identical to the one he had placed on Ben Pry. "This is a GPS tracker. I'll be able to pinpoint your location to within ten feet."
She nodded, slipping the tag into her front hip pocket.
He looked out the window. "Just remember to stay invisible. Even to the kid, or we'll have a hell of a time explaining you."
"I promise. I won't mess up this time!"
"Forget last night, Charlotte. That was a learning experience for both of us."
She nodded appreciatively, pursing her lips. "Thanks, Angel."
He grasped her shoulder and nodded. "Just do your best." As he reached for the side door handle, he tilted his head toward the rear of the van. "Now, hide."
"Got it!"
As she shimmered out of sight, he wondered if he would ever get used to this. Exiting the van, he scanned the scene and saw a young state trooper directing a group of men toward a path. The trooper appeared young, maybe twenty-two. He was tall, thin, with a faint mustache that seemed to struggle to grow. As Angel approached, the young deputy turned and looked him over with sharp blue eyes. He might be young, but his face displayed seriousness and maturity, something that Angel always appreciated in the law enforcement he'd dealt with.
"Officer?" He prompted, extending his arm in greeting.
"Barter." With a firm grip, the officer shook his hand. "And you are?"
Producing his license, he handed it to Barter. "Kevin Collins. Bounty hunter and tracker. I was in the area and heard about the missing boy. I want to help if that's okay?"
After quickly examining the license, Barter handed it back. "We can use all the help we can get, Mr. Collins. We have a grid set up north of here. I can show you which group to join."
"Why this area? The boy went missing south of here, didn't he?"
"Yes, but one of the K-9s in another unit led us north before losing the trail entirely. Since they still hadn't cleared the main area, the team retreated to try to pick up the boy's scent elsewhere. We set this zone up as a secondary search zone."
"Do you have more K-9s coming in?"
"Yes. We're not taking any chances."
"How will the dogs track him?"
"The parents gave us a pair of the boy's socks."
This was the break he had been hoping for. Now for the tricky part. "May I see one of them?"
Officer Barter gave him a curious look. "You have your own tracking dog?"
"No," he smirked. "Something better. It's a military secret, though, if you don't mind. However, it has proven quite effective in my other searches."
Shrugging, Officer Barter went and retrieved one of the socks. A minute later, the officer returned. Handing the sock to Angel, he quipped with a light tone, though it held a probing undertone, "Probably another piece of tech from Area 51, I bet."
Giving the officer a wink, he chuckled, "Something like that. I'll return it in a couple of minutes."
"Sure," Barter shrugged, not entirely convinced.
Angel gestured with the sock, "Thank you." Then he turned back toward the van. Shaking his head softly as he walked, Angel thought, If he only knew.
Reaching the passenger side door, he leaned in and held up the sock. "Here. Can you pick up the scent?"
He heard movement and saw trash bags crumpling beneath the weight of the invisible demon's footsteps. A loud, distinct sniff sounded next to the sock, and he felt her warm breath on his knuckles as her disembodied voice whispered, "It's… sharp. Musky, sweaty. I should be able to pick it out of all the other smells in the forest."
"Okay. I'll leave the side door open for when you get back. Be safe."
He stepped back, moving aside to give her room to exit. Feeling her invisible body softly brush against him as she passed sent an unexpected spark along his spine. Dismissing the sensation, he jogged away to get his assignment.
Seconds passed, and Charlotte had already outpaced all the groups searching the area. She moved fifty yards ahead of the closest team and stopped. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and was greeted by a flood of smells. Trees, bushes, animals, flowers, insects—she could smell everything. But the boy's scent was absent.
Determined, she broke into a full run, cloven feet skillfully moving her through the rugged terrain of fallen branches and jutting roots. She zigzagged along the path, quickly covering about five hundred square yards, occasionally pausing to take another whiff. Then, after nearly half a mile into the dense forest, she stopped as a new sound caught her attention. With eyes closed, she identified the distant rush of a river flowing west of her position. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of water, algae, fish, mud, and—
Her eyes snapped open. The boy's scent mixed with the strong odors of the river. Turning toward the strongest scents, she quickened her pace and ran to the river, engaging her senses to their fullest capacity.
It took only a couple of minutes to reach the water's edge. Standing by the riverbank, she studied the flowing waters, her eyes tracking the current. The sun had set, and twilight was spreading over the cloudy sky. As she looked around, she perked up her ears and took a breath. Immediately, two sensations struck her: the smell of fear and the distant sound of crying.
"Angel?" She whispered into the earpiece.
After a moment, his smooth tone flowed into her ear. "I'm here. I had to move away from the others first. You have something?"
"I got his scent! Can't tell how far off he is, but I think he's near a river. I smell water."
He hissed urgently, "Go! Find him!"
Without responding, she took off. With a heavy heart beating against her chest, she followed the smell and sound for nearly three hundred yards downstream, venturing beyond the assigned search area.
After a bit, she stopped, closing her eyes to concentrate and pinpoint the direction she needed to go. Instantly, the sound of crying rose above the river's noise. She was nearly there! When she opened her eyes, her irises lit up with a hazy red tint, drawing in as much light as possible. The forest brightened around her, revealing the riverbank just over a ridge ahead.
Sprinting, she arrived at the embankment's edge in less than a minute. As she crossed the ridge, Charlotte glanced down at the flowing water and gasped. Holding onto a fallen tree that jutted a third of the way into the rapid current was the boy.
Gauging the scene, she figured he must have fallen in somewhere upstream, and it was sheer luck that the tree had caught him at all. The current was too powerful for him to escape, and she could tell that he was quickly losing strength. If she didn't act immediately, he would drown.
"Angel!" She radioed. "I found him! He's in the river!"
He answered immediately, "Hold position. I'm on my way!"
"Can't wait! Track the tag! I have to get him out! Now!"
Anxiously, he responded, "But—!"
"If I wait, he'll die!" she growled.
"Understood! Stay safe!" The earpiece fell silent.
He trusted her, and she was determined not to let him down. She scanned the area around her, fear creeping in as she desperately tried to figure out how to get to him. Fuck! Wings would be so useful right now!
She cursed her limitations but pushed those thoughts aside, having to make do with what she had. Sliding down the embankment, she ran to the water's edge beside the fallen tree. She guessed he was about twenty or twenty-five feet away, and the only way to get to him was to crawl along the thick trunk as far as she could.
Climbing onto it, she began to creep along the surface, which was narrowing beneath her. She had only gotten halfway when she heard it crack, threatening to snap apart under her weight. The tree could no longer support her weight.
Thinking quickly, she wrapped her tail around a thicker branch and, with just a hint of hesitation, plunged into the surging water. The current was stronger than she expected, and her body was slammed violently against the thick bark of the tree.
Involuntarily, she yelped from the impact, which caught the boy's fading attention. His frightened eyes were swollen from tears, and he whimpered. Cursing herself, she bit her lip and reached out her hand to him. She thought that if she could carry the boy around the tree and swim to shore, he might believe the current had swept him there.
She stretched out as far as possible, but he was still beyond her grasp. Scanning the tree to see if she could risk moving closer, Charlotte noticed a broken six-foot-thick branch caught among the other limbs. If she'd only noticed it before and grabbed the branch, she could have used it to get to him.
For a brief moment, she gazed longingly at the branch, wishing she had it, when suddenly she felt something solid in her clawed hand. Glancing down, she was stunned to see the branch now firmly in her grip.
How!? It didn't matter how. Time was critical, and she knew she had to act quickly.
Adjusting her grip, she held one end of the branch and pushed it through the water until it gently nudged the boy. He flinched. Seizing the moment, she spoke just loudly enough to cut through the roar of the churning currents. "Grab the branch."
The boy, startled, struggled to speak. "Wha—?" His eyes flickered, and his hold on the tree loosened.
She raised her voice, full of urgency. "Please, sweetie, grab hold. Trust me, please, please?" She refused to lose him. The boy would have to believe he merely imagined the sound.
Reaching out with one hand toward the voice, the boy's fingers curled around the branch. Then, bravely, he let go of the tree and grabbed the branch with his other hand. The current immediately seized his legs and yanked. Charlotte was now in a tug of war with the river.
Louder, she yelled, "Hold tight!" and began to pull steadily against the rushing water, drawing him closer to her.
Once he was near enough, she retracted her claws and caught him by his green and white T-shirt with her human hand. After releasing the branch—which was immediately swallowed by the rapids—she coiled both arms around the boy. It was just in time, as his eyes closed and he passed out.
Shifting her body toward the shore, she poured all her strength into her tail, using it to pull until her waist broke free from the raging torrent. Hoisting the boy higher and growling fiercely, she leapt with all her might, soaring clear of the water and landing hard on the river's muddy bank.
Quickly, Charlotte hastily rolled onto her back so as not to crush the boy under her weight. He coughed harshly, and she instinctively patted his back to help clear his throat. After a moment, he calmed down, and his breathing became steady and rhythmic. Tightening her grip protectively around his body, she swore, I won't let anything happen to you. I won't let anything happen to anyone!
She had lost track of how long she lay there, her body pressed into the cold, wet mud, with her cloven hooves splashed by the water lapping at the river's edge. Finally, she heard Angel approaching and sniffled in gratitude. Craning her neck, she tried to locate him, but even with keen eyesight, she lost him in the darkness and began to panic.
"Ange?!" She squeaked.
"I'm here."
She followed his voice and saw him coming down the embankment opposite where she'd first looked. Heaving a sigh of relief, she closed her eyes, fighting back a sob that tried to break free.
From his viewpoint, Angel saw only the boy, hovering just inches above the ground, with a humanoid impression pressed into the mud below him.
He dropped to his knees, whispering, "You okay?"
Exhausted, she croaked, "Take him."
Without another word, Angel slid his arms under the boy, his knuckles brushing against her breasts, and gently lifted the child off her. Carefully, he stood up, cradling the boy in his arms, and whispered, "You can come out now."
The mud shifted, yet she didn't appear. "I—" Her voice faltered. "I'll meet you back at the van." Her tone was clear. She wanted to be alone.
He understood. "Okay. It'll take me about twenty-five minutes to get back to the clearing. I'll see you then." With a firm grip on the child, Angel started the trek back to the meeting point.
Once they were out of sight, Charlotte rolled over and pressed her palms into the cold, slimy mud and pushed herself up. Standing, she hugged herself, feeling the muck slide down her back. Her blonde hair was stained muddy brown, and despite her demon blood, the moment left her trembling in the biting cold.
Taking steady, deep breaths, she called upon her power, causing her body to sizzle as steam billowed from heated skin, warming and drying her off. Though still dirty, the chill in her bones had faded.
Regaining her composure, Charlotte cracked her neck, swept her hair away from her face, and took off in a dash.
Angel returned to a crowd of cheering people and barking dogs. An ambulance had arrived at the scene, and the paramedics took the boy away from him to tend to the child's needs. Officer Barter was impressed and expressed his admiration, while others approached to clap him on the back, shake his hand, and some offered to buy him a drink.
He waved them off with a smile and a laugh, reassuring them that he was just doing his job, and all he wanted now was to get some rest. After a few minutes of debriefing by Officer Barter and exchanging phone numbers for potential follow-up questions, he was free to leave.
Slipping the phone from his pocket, Angel sent a message to Cassie to let her know everything was okay and that he'd call the next day. When he reached the van, he noticed the passenger-side door was closed, indicating Charlotte had returned first. He slid into the driver's seat and shut the door, listening for a moment. "You there?"
"Please—" From the rear of the van, she sounded soft and pleading. "Get me out of here?"
With an imperceptible nod of agreement, Angel started the van and guided it onto the two-lane road, its headlights cutting through the darkness. Movement in the rearview mirror caught his eye as Charlotte shimmered into view. In the dim light, he noticed the mud and grime coating her. If the situation had been less serious, the twigs and leaves tangled in Charlotte's hair would have been humorous.
Carefully navigating through the trash bags, Charlotte gripped the captain's chairs for support before collapsing into the passenger seat, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion.
"Memories be damned," she scoffed, clicking her seat belt, "but I don't think I've ever been that scared in my entire life."
"Are you okay?"
"I guess?" Shrugging, she sniffed. "If I feel this way when I save someone, I don't know what to do if I fail."
Memories flooded his mind, and torrents of pain washed over Angel. He let out a slow breath. "I've failed before."
"How do you handle it?" she whispered, sniffing again.
"I curse God."
"I thought your family was Catholic?"
"My parents are. But I lost my faith long ago, Charlotte. I stopped believing." Angel shook his head in bemusement. "But now that you're here, I'm forced to think that if demons exist, so must angels and Heaven, and that makes it even worse."
"How?"
"Because," he sighed deeply, "if you don't believe in God or the Devil, you can curse man for his evils. But if you believe, you must wonder what strings they're pulling and why. If all this suffering is 'God's work' or 'The Devil's doing,' you start to question if any of it is worth it. With what happened, I couldn't think of a reason God would have allowed it, and I refused to give the Devil his due, so it was easier to stop believing in either of them."
"What happened to you, Angel?"
"It's not something that I'm ready to share." Angel softly shook his head. "But maybe, in time, I will tell you."
Charlotte desperately wanted to know so she could understand him better, but the pain in his voice was heavy, hiding the mystery behind a wall that wasn't ready to fall. The mystery reflected the ache in her soul, and it was overwhelming. With a quiet sigh, she rested her head against the window and silently watched the shadows of the trees flicker past as they drove into the night.