CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: TORCH DOWN

The L.A interstate was a tangled web of concrete and steel, a maze of lanes and exits that seemed to stretch on forever. The sun beat down on the asphalt, casting a golden glow over the bustling highway. Cars and trucks zoomed past, their headlights glinting like diamonds in the afternoon light.

The limo sped down Imperial Highway, Eddie's skilled hands navigating the wheel with precision. But his eyes kept darting to the side mirrors, his gaze locked on the two speed bikes tailing them.

"Lana, I think we're being followed," Eddie said, his voice low and urgent.

Lana's voice cut through the tension. "Why do you think so?" she asked, her tone laced with skepticism.

"They've been behind us for thirty minutes, and they're gaining on us," Eddie replied, his eyes flicking to the mirrors again. "And it's not just two bikes, I count four. This isn't a coincidence, Lana."

Lana's expression changed from disinterest to concern. "Must be the Paps," she suggested, but Eddie shook his head.

"No, I don't think so, Lana. This feels different. They're not trying to get a shot or block our path. They're tailing us, like they're waiting for something." Eddie's brow furrowed, his gut telling him something was off.

The interstate blurred into a sea of concrete and steel as Eddie's words hung in the air, the only sound the hum of the engine and the rush of wind past the windows. "I don't like this, Lana. Something's not right."

—_—

Simon Gilmore's life had been a series of struggles and disappointments. He had always wanted to avoid following in his father's footsteps, but fate had dealt him a different hand. Despite his best efforts, he found himself mirroring the same flaws he had once despised in his dad.

After losing his wife just two years into their marriage, Simon's relationship with his twin daughters had crumbled. They wanted nothing to do with him, and he couldn't blame them. His own life was a mess - he drank excessively, swore like a sailor, and had a string of meaningless flings. Holding down a job was a constant struggle, despite his degree in chemistry.

But then, a glimmer of hope emerged. A former classmate had recommended him for a job at a chemical company in Los Angeles, and Simon had gratefully accepted. He didn't mind starting over as a truck driver, especially since the pay was good. It was a fresh start, a chance to leave his past mistakes in Morristown, Tennessee, and begin anew in LA.

Swerving right, Simon narrowly avoided hitting a motorcycle speeding along Imperial Highway. "Watch where you're going, you can't suckin' sonofabitch!" Simon yelled, oblivious to a silver limo on his right. Simon's outburst was still echoing in the air when he swerved right, colliding with the silver limo. The impact was massive, causing a chain reaction of crashes and explosions. Flames engulfed the limo, and a masked motorcyclist hurled a hand grenade into the vehicle, intensifying the inferno.

Panic erupted as people scrambled to escape the chaos, dragging loved ones, pets, and children to safety. The sound of sirens grew louder as fire trucks and police rushed to the scene.

The highway was now a scene of utter chaos, with flames and smoke billowing into the air. The once-clear road was now a tangled mess of wreckage, debris, and terrified people. Simon's reckless driving had unleashed a disaster, and the consequences were only beginning to unfold.

—_—

Uriel watched as death reapers harvested souls, her eyes widening as Eddie was reaped. A pang struck her heart, a fleeting sense of loss. Eleven mortals lay dead, their lives extinguished in the chaos. Though she hadn't thrown the grenade, she felt a twinge of guilt, knowing her awakening had come at their cost.

With a determined gaze, Uriel pointed her sword at the neck of a nearby reaper, his black cloak billowing in the wind. "Where is my sister Raven? Where is Caz?" she demanded, her voice firm and commanding.The reaper, taken aback by Uriel's sudden appearance and aggressive stance, held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Whoa, easy there, angel. I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just here to collect souls."

Uriel's grip on her sword tightened, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Don't play dumb, reaper. I know you're aware of the recent...harvest. My sister Castiel, where is she?"

—_—

"Here's your coffee, Ms Wellington," Amelia said, handing Castiel the steaming cup. Castiel's frown deepened as she took the coffee, her mind preoccupied with the chaos of the past 48 hours.

"Is everything okay, Ma'am?" Amelia asked, noticing her boss's frustration.

Castiel sighed, her patience wearing thin. "For now Amelia, drop the formalities. You can call me Cordy, not ma'am or anything else."

Amelia's face reddened as she apologized, "I'm sorry, Ms.. Cordy. I forgot."

Castiel's thoughts were elsewhere, her mind racing with the challenges she faced. Samael's plans were a mystery, and she had no intel to go on. She was on the run, accused of kidnapping the president, and her companies were shut down. Asmodeus, the Vice President, seemed to be working against her. The last attack had left her reeling, and she knew Samael had something big planned. She needed help, she needed Uriel, and she needed a plan to win.

Drinking up the coffee in one quick gulp, Castiel groaned in frustration, startling Amelia. "I can't win this war, I don't know what the hell to do!" she exclaimed, standing up and pacing around the room. Amelia jumped in fright, stuttering, "Huh, did you say something, Cordy?" Castiel complained, falling back into the sofa and placing her palms on her forehead. "You just won't understand, no one will." Her head ached like never before, feeling like the weight of the world was crushing her. "Try me, boss," Amelia whispered, her voice barely audible.

Caz stared at Amelia, then sighed inwardly, knowing Amelia wouldn't understand her problems. But Amelia was an excellent assistant, one she had special plans for. She motioned to the space next to her. "Sit, Amelia." Amelia's eyes widened slightly as she hesitated, then nodded and sat down beside Castiel. "Do you believe in the supernatural, Amelia?" Castiel asked, her voice low and serious. Amelia's eyes locked onto hers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, Cordy. I believe."

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