Page 224 of Breathe Like Hell

There were pieces of gravel embedded in my cheek. I brushed them away, fingertips skimming over raw skin on my chin that was quickly healing itself.

My shirt was torn wide open in the back but still plastered wet to my body in the front, blood and dirt staining the fabric. Tears pricked my eyes. I was trying not to dwell on the reality of my situation, but with each inhale, I was less and less capable of ignoring this transformation.

As I breathed deeper, my skin began to faintly glow.

Ultraneon.

More white feathers floated around me in the cool black water.

White, not black.

Panic hovered just beneath the surface of my skin, pressing insistently against my ribs, swarming me. I kept swallowing it back down.

I have to go back.

Micah and Mason were still waiting for me.

My chest tightened.

I remembered the truck and the headlights, remembered clinging to Mason as he dragged me up into the sky, but I remembered little else. Micah hadn’t flown with us up to Heaven, but maybe that was because he had to help whoever had hit me in the car. I don’t know. I don’t know.

The word swirled through my brain. Angelakia.

Apparently, when Angelakia died, they became angels that had to go to Heaven. I wasn’t sure why Micah and Mason didn’t tell me that. We had run out of time, or something.

Now I’d become an angel that had to go to Heaven.

The silence engulfing my senses was starting to catch up to me. It was as if the silence was waiting, waiting for me to move forward, to continue on into whatever place came after this void. It was an expectant sort of silence.

I blinked and rubbed my eyes as I noticed something across the water. A gate, seemingly made of copper, gleaming dully.

Since it was the only thing I could see other than the water, I assumed it was where I needed to go next, my next step in getting back to Earth. I tried to stand up, but I stumbled, almost instantly tipping backwards with the massive weight now hanging off my back.

Dropping to my knees, I took several more deep breaths.

My fingers were visible through the dark water, glowing steadily.

I have to keep going. I have to get back.

I tried again to get on my feet, focusing more purposefully on offsetting the weight on my back, feeling the ache and stretch of my rearranged muscles. I was still wearing my boots and my jeans and torn shirt, but everything was completely soaked through with the water, heavier now as I began to shuffle towards the copper gate.

The more I walked, the more I realized how greatly I’d misjudged the distance between me and the gate. It took me several minutes to reach it, and once I was there, it stood much taller than I’d anticipated, stretching high above my head.

I peered through the bars, trying to get a sense of what was on the other side, before the entire thing began to swing open on its own.

Taking a half step backwards, I waited for the gate to finish opening, then I stepped out of the water, my boots finding dark stone. Right as I put my weight onto the stone, the void disappeared from behind me, being replaced with…Heaven.

The sky had shifted from black to a deep red, the color rippling and shifting in aurora-like waves, all different hues of red. There was no moon, but millions and millions of stars, way more than I’d ever seen on Earth.

I took another tentative step forward, my eyes darting around. It was much darker than I’d expected it to be. In my human mind, I’d expected Heaven to be made of white clouds and glowing sunlight, but instead, it felt gloomy and ancient. Celestial rivers of shimmering scarlet floated in the sky with wine-dark clouds, and all the shadows were less sharp here, darkness smudged on everything.

There was a city in front of me, buildings stretching impossibly tall, ultraneon-bathed angels walking and flying over the roads, crimson illuminating every window, every street lamp.

Every light was a small red flame.

When neon burned, it burned red. Asteria was red, and asteria was everywhere.

I remained standing perfectly still, unable to do anything other than stare at the monumental scale of the architecture.