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[ 3RD POV ]
The inside of the stolen crown Vic, was anything but pleasant.
Gerry Lane was driving like a man possessed, his knuckles white as bone against the steering wheel.
Every time the heavy suspension bottomed out on a pothole, the whole frame groaned, but he didn't lift his foot off the gas. He couldn't. Not with the rearview mirror showing what it was showing.
Kayla was pressed against the back seat, Izzy crushed into her left side, Gerry's two daughters squeezed in on the right. It was a sandwich of body's and panic, but nobody was looking at each other.
They were all looking back. Well, Kayla and the two Infront.
Through the grime-streaked rear windshield, the world was ending. The intersection was a sea of grey skin and gnashing teeth, a tidal wave of nightmares that should have been swarming their bumper.
But they weren't.
They were looking up.
"He's .... he's not stopping," Karin, the women in the front, whispered from her position, her voice trembling so hard it barely registered over the roar of the V8.
Zain was a blur of white hoodie and dark hair moving with a desperate need to escape that made Kayla's stomach fall.
He wasn't on the ground. He was bounding across the gridlock, launching himself from a roof to roof, his sneakers finding traction where there shouldn't be any.
CLANG!!
The sound cut through the screaming. Somehow loud enough to enter all their ears.
Zain swung the rusty exhaust pipe in his hand, smashing it against the metal roof of a UPS truck as he landed.
CLANG!!
He leaped to a sedan, adding a sideflip to a land and slammed the pipe down again.
CLANG!!
It was almost like a dinner bell.
A arrogant challenge.
He was screaming at them without opening his mouth, making himself the loudest, most appetizing thing in the city. And it was working. The horde turned like a school of fish, a singular organism shifting its focus from the fleeing cars/people to the man dancing on the rooftop of vehicles.
"Why is he doing that?" Gerry choked out, his eyes darting to the mirror. "He's drawing them all. Every single one of them."
"He's so fast," Connie, Gerry's youngest daughter, who Kayla heard Karin call her by that name, murmured.
She was pressed against the glass, her breath fogging it up. Her eyes were wide, huge saucers of disbelief. She wasn't looking at the monsters. She was looking at the man outrunning them.
She turned to Izzy, her voice filled with a childish, innocent awe that felt completely wrong for the carnage outside.
"Who is that? Is he... is he a superhero? Like starfire and the teen titans?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Izzy let out a sound that was half-sob, half-hiccup.
She was trembling against Kayla, burying her face into her side so hard she thought she might bruise a rib.
But at the question, she lifted her head just an inch. Her eyes red, spilling tears that tracked through the grime on her cheeks.
"That's my dad," she managed to choke out softly.
If not for the situation, she would of said 'That's my dad' with so pride, Lucifer would step back.
But sadly, she said it with the kind of heartbreak that tears a hole in the universe.
She turned back to Kayla, her small hands clutching on Kayla's hoodie, her fingernails digging into her skin until it stung.
It was like she needed to know her mama was still here.
"Mama," she whimpered into Kayla's chest. "Did .... did I do thi—"
"No, no no. Baby, don't think like that." Kayla cut her off with a whisper, but her own throat felt like a thorn. "Papa wouldn't like you thinking such things. He'll never blame you, dear. Never. If anything, he'll feel proud of himself for saving us and them."
From the tightening of grip and small tremble Kayla felt on her chest, she knew her baby girl was crying again.
Kayla put a gentle hand on her head, stroking it with a fondness only a mother could possess.
Since Izzy didn't seem like she wanted to reply, kayla stared out the back window again.
Zain was getting smaller. A tiny figure against the backdrop of smoke and ruin. But I could still see him. I could see the way he moved --- fluid, disciplined, a drop of reckless with terrifyingly competent.
And suddenly, the smell of the old car and the screaming of the engine faded.
For a second, Kayla wasn't in Philadelphia anymore. She was back in their humble apartment.
Or, parents cave, is what Zain called it.
...
[ FLASH BACK: 1ST POV ]
It was four years ago. When Izzy was five. A memory that felt like yesterday.
It went like this:
A thunderstorm had knocked the power out, and the apartment was consumed by darkness. Izzy had woken up screaming, convinced the shadows in the corner were monsters coming to eat her toes, toys, snacks, and mum and dad.
It was very funny at the time.
Anyway, we had all piled into the big bed. Me, Zain, and a sobbing Izzy.
Unlike me, zain hadn't laughed. He hadn't told her to grow up or that monsters weren't real. I mean, he did say that after but not then.
He had just pulled the duvet up over us, creating a cave, a fortress of cotton and body heat. He lit a single candle, the flame dancing in his hazel eyes, making them look like molten gold.
He looked at Izzy, then he looked at me. His face was stripped of all the tiredness. He looked utterly serious.
He took my hand and Izzy's hand, pressing them together between his own calloused palms.
"Listen to me," he had said, his voice low and rumbly, like distant thunder but warmer. "The world is big, and sometimes it's dark. Darker than darkness itself."
Izzy had sniffled. "Monsters?"
"Yes. But not 'those' mosters, Iz" Zain nodded. "But they don't matter. Not ever. Not if there's a whole army of them either. Because you have me."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against ours.
"I will be your shield and your light, like the holy father is mine," he promised. The words weren't flowery; they were a contract written in blood. "In a world full of darkness, I'll burn it all down just to keep yous warm. I will never hesitate you bring warmth around yous. If I have to bleed to keep yous safe, I won't complain. I won't blame you. I won't hate you. I'll just do it."
I remembered the way my heart had stuttered in my chest. I had grown up thinking love was conditional. That you had to earn safety. But looking at him then, I realized he was only asking for one thing.
Us. No one else but us.
That was the moment. The exact second I knew I was done for. Well, even though I was already done for, buuut I was truly done for.
"I love you, Zain," I had whispered, feeling so much love, warm and worth for the first time in my life.
...
[ FLASHBACK END: 3RD POV ]
"He kept it," Kayla whispered, her voice cracking over the engine.
The cold reality of the car rushed back in. The contrast was physically painful. That warm, candlelit promise vs. the grey, bloody situation around them.
He truly hadn't hesitated. Not for a millisecond. He saw the threat, calculated the odds, and he threw himself into the fire so we wouldn't have to inside it aswell.
"He kept his word."
The car was silent, save for the engine and the muffled weeping of Izzy.
Gerry Lane was staring into the rearview mirror. Kayla saw his eyes shift. He wasn't looking at a crazy guy anymore. He was looking at a force of nature. A man who had just traded his life for a car full of strangers and his wholw world.
Gerry swallowed hard, the focus in his eyes going up a level.
Kayla could see the guilt there, but also a profound, heavy respect. He knew he was alive because Zain wasn't in the car.
"He's .... he's incredible," Gerry murmured, almost to himself.
They took a sharp turn, the tires screeching in that tire way.
Kayla pressed her hand against the rear glass.
In the distance, the figure on the rooftops leaped one last time, clearing a gap that no human should be able to clear, and disappeared behind a brick building. The swarm followed him, leaving the street behind us almost empty.
Save for the ones to dumb to chase.
He was now gone. Only leaving Kayla and Izzy with hope.
"Don't you dare die, you idiot," She whispered to the glass, a tear finally escaping and tracing a line down her cheek. "Because .... I don't know what I'll do without you...."
She pulled Izzy in tighter, kissing the top of her blonde head.
Gerry hit the gas, speeding toward the highway on-ramp. We were safe. Physically, we were untouched. But as the city of Philadelphia burned behind us, the car felt heavy, empty, and terrifyingly quiet.