by Skyler Andra
“I think it will be fun.” I tried lightening the mood. “Then afterwards, perhaps we could order some Chinese takeout and play a game of cards.”
I shuffled forward, grabbing the pack I’d stolen from the convenience store. I held them up to show Zak and Mike, feeling a stab of guilt as I remembered I’d accidentally stolen the cards.
“I was hoping you could teach me,” I whispered.
“The lady has spoken.” Uri slammed his hands on his thighs and leapt to his feet.
“Only if we go hunt some rats afterwards.” Zak rubbed his hands together as he stumbled to his feet. “I’m itching for a fight.”
“Oh, hell no,” Mike said. “We might encounter rats at the kitchen, but we’re not fighting any of them.”
Mike stepped over to Zak and threw his arm over the angel’s shoulder.
“This time we’re showing them compassion.” He nudged Zak in the ribs, and he groaned. “Like our namesake here.”
“As long as I don’t have to touch or smell them,” Zak grumbled. “They might make me puke again.”
Comments like this certainly highlighted how he’d lost his compassion. At first, I’d thought him confused, hurt, and angry over the loss of his love Ariel. But maybe it was more than that. Maybe he truly was lost to the darkness as The Dragon had indicated. My chest ached. I didn’t want to think about losing Zak, whom I had come to care for as a comrade, new friend, and once a lover.
“Not only are you touching them,” Mike warned. “You’re kissing everyone on the hand. All of them are gifts of creation.”
Zak muttered under his breath.
I detected Mike was joking, just stirring Zak, trying to wind him up, and I must admit I kind of enjoyed it. Zak had a tendency toward pessimism despite his gift of compassion, and he of all the angels should have been the first to jump at an opportunity like this. Not wanting to touch another, a basic form of human connection, showed how far he’d fallen. Maybe today would change that. I hoped our service at the soup kitchen might stir up his lost grace and bring back his former glory.
7
Jophiel
The next morning, we readied ourselves quickly. I stared at Uri’s t-shirt, which read, “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands.” Underneath the slogan was an image of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
His humorous fashion style brought a giggle out of me. “Nice shirt.”
“Good, isn’t it?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
“As terrible as your jokes,” Zak snipped.
“You’re just jealous.” Uri picked at Zak’s grey shirt. “Boring too. You and Mike need some taste.”
Mike glanced down at his jeans, white shirt, and leather jacket.
Uri clapped a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Let me take you shopping; you’ll have the ladies eating out of the palm of your hands. Trust me.”
“I already do.” Zak glanced at me and winked.
“Delusional,” I replied with a sweet smile. Zak sighed and pressed both hands to his heart, pretending that I’d wounded him.
I looked forward to our easy banter. It was a small source of joy in this dark world. We needed more of it.
We left the apartment, more wisecracks flying around. Being outdoors was a welcome change now that we had a base to operate from. When we stayed in motels, we only resided there for a night or two at a time. We left our bags in the room, but once we moved on, we carried it all again. Now, as we headed into the city, I felt lighter without all our belongings we normally hauled around.
The four of us headed out into the streets where the brisk wind wrapped its cold tentacles around us. Mike and Zak followed behind Uri and I.
“Fuck me dead,” Zak declared, holding out his hands. “Sunlight.”
“Uri did it,” I replied, feeling proud of his efforts.
“I doubt that,” Mike said, adopting uncharacteristic skepticism for someone who had been very supportive of the impact I’d made breaking Luc’s darkness, even if only for a few minutes. Here, Uri had managed to keep the sun shining for two straight days.
Uri’s expression darkened, and he glared at the back of Mike’s head.
I grabbed his hand, squeezing it for comfort.
“After I wounded Luc, I caused a similar effect,” I reminded Mike.
The leader turned his head but kept his gaze low. “Your grace is different.”
How could Mike be so dismissive of Uri’s effort? “The sun has been shining for two days in a row.”
Zak turned his head and winked at me. “Good point.” His gaze swung to Michael, boring a hole in him, demanding an answer.
“Luck I guess.” Mike shrugged.
Heat shot through my body. I felt it rise up in Uri too. Instead of defending himself, though, he pressed a hand against my chest and shook his head at me. A signal to calm down. Why wasn’t he fighting this?
We walked in silence for a long while. With each step the fire inside of me lulled, but it didn’t dispel all of my anger. I began to understand why Zak butted heads with Mike. Why Zak let his frustration spill over and he lashed out at Mike. Our leader thought he always knew best, and it irritated Zak. Mike needed to listen to his warriors because each had their own contribution to offer the mission. Maybe if Mike weren’t so righteous, Zak might not react the way he did.
The quiet held a tension that tightened around my chest until eventually I had to break it and get everyone talking again. “It’s so strange that the humans don’t seem to think something needs to be done to break the darkness.”
“Oh, they do,” Mike responded, and a little of my residual anger flared. I hadn’t really wanted to hear from him. I’d have preferred to chat with Zak and Uri. “Greenpeace, Plastic Pollution Coalition, vegetarianism to stop the cruelty to animals when they’re killed for meat. The humans are trying their best, but it’s not working.”
My inquisitiveness burned a hole in me. I wanted to learn everything I could about this bizarre new world. “Why not?”
Uri stuffed his hands back in his pockets, his eyes narrowing and posture tensing. “Because you can’t stop every single human from killing animals or putting plastic in the oceans any more than you can stop the hatred that seems to be growing by the day.”
This time both Zak and Mike nodded. I was a bit surprised Zak didn’t have a sarcastic comment to make.
“You can’t stop them from discriminating who crosses borders and who doesn’t,” Uri added. “The irony is that they’ll save the endangered animal and parts of the environment then bomb each other. That’s what he wants. To create division, chaos, suspicion, and overreaction based on high emotion. There’s no heart in any of the decisions they make.”
“He?” I asked. “Lucifer?”
He nodded again, curling his shoulders forward.
“It makes everything else a futile attempt,” Uri said. “If the humans continue to hate each other, nothing else they do matters much.”
I understood what he was saying. If only I’d seen what the world used to be like before the darkness erased the beauty, before the humans became so self-absorbed that they stopped reaching out to each other. Earth must have been a beautiful place. The Most High had referred to it as the emerald of the Milky Way galaxy.
We reached the soup kitchen and entered, immediately getting hit with the scent of bread, a stew of some sort, and coffee. Body odor, dirt, alcohol, urine, and smelly shoes mingled with the aroma of the food, competing for attention and creating a somewhat nauseating combination of smells.
“God, I can’t breathe in here,” Zak complained, obviously referring to the pungent odors.
Some of the homeless people glared at him.
I did too. He could be so brash and inconsiderate sometimes. It made sense that if these people were homeless, they’d lack the basic sanitation and hygiene of most humans and wouldn’t smell fresh and clean. I pushed that thought aside to concentrate on the reason we’d come here.
“Are you gonna cry to mommy about
it?” Uri teased Zak, jabbing him with an elbow, and he exhaled sharply from the impact. “Want some cotton balls for your nose?”
“Fuck off, asshole.” Zak smiled at the retort.
I was less than impressed with his behavior. I’d have told him, too, if Uri hadn’t thrown in a joke to suggest Zak was being childish and discourteous.
A short distance away, a handful of homeless people sat at tables, talking animatedly. Several glanced up at us, their eyes beady and cautious. Dark prints on the floor suggested demons had been here, although none of the humans present moved like them.
One human in particular struck me. He wore a beige coat over faded jeans with a woolen hat over his head. White flashed in his eyes for a second, overlaying his dark grey irises. The man pulled out a pen from his pocket and clicked it a few times, all while staring at me. Then he hunched over a piece of paper and started jotting down notes.
Last night during our celebration and commiseration at the bar, Uri had taken plenty of photos of us posing together. Arm in arm, Zak licking my ear, Uri kissing Mike, and many other memorable moments captured. Each time the flash—as Uri termed it—went off, it illuminated our eyes for a split second. It left me blinded and dazed for a few seconds too. Perhaps someone in the room had taken a photo that caused the man’s eyes to flash white. I scanned the room but found nothing. The homeless men and women were preoccupied with eating, not taking photos.
If nobody had taken a photo, the flashing eyes could be a supernatural effect or possibly the result of a reflection from somewhere. I didn’t think it was a cause for concern at the moment, yet something about this man told me to watch him. Not in a sinister way. But to see if there was more to him than met the eye.
“Damn,” muttered Zak. “No rats.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I challenged, irritated by the direction the conversation had taken. “After yesterday’s outcome?”
“For them, yeah,” Zak agreed with me for once. “Not for me.”
I didn’t understand his resentment toward demons or his ‘bloodlust’ for wanting to hurt them; it was almost as if he regarded them as something to take his frustrations out on. I feared if we encouraged this behavior, then it would only get worse and support his darkness. We had to save him from Luc’s infection before it was too late.
Heat scalded the back of my neck, and I clamped down on my irritation again.
“That kind of talk does nothing to break the dark curse on this world,” I reminded him before stepping past him, deeper into the hall.
He grunted behind me, and I imagined him sulking, crossing his arms and scowling, but I didn’t dare look at him. My words and turning my back on him were a clear enough message about my stance on this matter.
Behind the counter, a dark-skinned, female volunteer wearing an apron and tense expression served food from one large vessel. A clip pinned her grey streaked dark hair behind her head.
A man wearing glasses with lenses as thick as his little finger fussed behind her. He hunted in boxes and checked below the counter as if he’d lost something. When he gave up and stood upright, his shoulders sagged from the great burden pressing down on him. He tasted the contents of a large, silver pot.
“The soup’s gone stale,” he muttered, throwing up his hands. He squeezed his slanted eyes shut and rubbed his forehead as if afflicted by a sudden headache. “We don’t have enough to feed any more people. Shut the doors.”
“We can’t, Xing Fei,” said the woman. “There’s more people lined up outside.”
“We have to,” the man said, a frustrated flush staining his weathered skin.
“Can we help, sir?” Uri approached the counter. “What do you need?”
The man ran a critical eye up and down the angel. “More volunteers for one,” he huffed, scratching his head and ruffling his thick, black hair.
“Well God just blessed you with four extra helpers, I myself being the best looking.” Uri gestured to Mike, Zak and, I. “But these ugly mugs can help you too. Tell us what you need us to do.”
“I’ll give you an ugly mug.” Zak jostled Uri as a game until Mike whistled at them for attention.
The man put his hands on his hips. “We need more food, but we’ve run out of funds.”
“Let us contribute to that.” Mike pulled out what he called his wallet and slid out his silver charge card.
“Thank you.” The man’s voice wavered. “Can you pitch in some muscle to collect the food too?”
“I’m Zak, and I’d be happy for some fresh air.” Zak gave the man a charming smile that contrasted his sarcastic tone.
I rolled my eyes. Anything to get out of working directly with the homeless we were here to help.
The man’s mouth opened and closed. The woman behind him nudged him, and he grabbed a set of keys.
“I’m Xing Fei,” the man said. “Come on, Zak. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch all your names.”
Mike introduced us then added, “Zak you’re with me.”
“Thank the Most High,” Zak murmured.
I cut him down with a glare of my own. We were here to assist, not complain about the status of these poor people’s hygiene. Their circumstances were not entirely of their own doing. The society they lived in had failed to care for them. Failed to provide basic shelter, food, and medicine to make sure they didn’t fall between the cracks and suffer a life of starvation and poverty.
“I’m Gloria,” the woman said, her smile easy, although her deep-set brown eyes were sad.
“Jojo and Uri.” I gestured to us both.
“Thank you for offering to help,” she said as she led us to their work area, which was crammed with empty boxes, plastic wrapping, and food scraps. “Sorry about the mess.”
“That’s okay.” Uri scooped the scraps into a box and packed the plastic away. I helped him fill another two. He carried away four and deposited them out back, out of the way.
“You’re such an angel.” Lines crinkled at the corners of Gloria’s eyes when she smiled.
“That I am.” Uri gave me a knowing smile and I laughed.
She held her hands out, looking around helplessly. “We’ve run out of meat and only have carrots and potatoes left.”
“Let’s prepare the veggies,” Uri suggested, placing a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder, and her tense back softened. “God will provide the rest. A good deed never goes unrewarded.”
I smiled, appreciating his way with words to cheer up the stressed woman.
Gloria nodded, on board right away. “You’re right.”
She handed out aprons to the two of us, and we stood behind the prep tables. “I’ll get some water for the soup.”
I stared across the kitchen to the dining area to watch the homeless man whose eyes had lit up. He sat entranced as he scribbled something with his pen and paper. When he stopped for a moment, he clicked his pen a few times, as if it helped him to think.
Uri crossed the kitchen area, looking for something, and he eventually returned with a funny-looking device and a potato. I recognized the vegetable from one of the meals the Nephilim had made for me.
“We take the skin off like this using this peeler.” He brushed the peeler along the outside of the vegetable, removing the skin. “The skin doesn’t taste nice.”
I watched the razor-like edge of the device, and my heartbeat raced. Any sharp implements reminded me of being stabbed by the little boy in the diner. The fresh memory of Uri’s shooting sparked in my mind as well. I grabbed my hand and stepped backward. My heart pounded in my chest so hard it hurt. Darkness swirled in my grace, brought on by my fear. Day by day, like a parasite, it fed off me, flourishing from my darker emotions. I had to find a way to conquer this before I transformed into something else, or someone as lost as Zak.
8
Jophiel
“You okay?” Uri asked me, his voice distant over the pounding in my ears.
“Yes,” I lied. My breaths came shorter and faster, maski
ng the prick in my grace. My wrist ached from squeezing my hand so tight. I didn’t want to mention the stabbing incident or his shooting and spoil his good mood.
He glanced down at the hand I clutched. Slowly, he took my hand, running a thumb over the scar on the back of it. “Did you get stabbed?” His words were careful, measured. “By a rat?”
How did he know? Had a demon stabbed him too? I couldn’t get a word past the thickening in my throat. I nodded sharply, studying his neck and hands, any available skin.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice soft and soothing. “You can just sit and watch me.”
The moment he collected the peeler, I remembered the darkness feeding on my fear and how I’d vowed not to let that happen again. “No. Show me how to use the peeler.” I held out my other shaking hand.
He glanced reluctantly me. “You can stop at any time. It’s okay.” He passed me the tool and I inhaled, readying myself.
He gave me a strained smile and picked up another vegetable. “You hold the sharp edges against the carrot and drag it down like this, similar to how I peeled the potato.” He demonstrated for me, shaving the skin off the vegetable.
I collected another carrot from the bench even though my hand was numb. We were about to make a big difference and bring some cheer to people with nothing. I couldn’t let my fear get in the way. My hand shook as I practiced, copying him on my own vegetable. A couple of times I slipped because of the slipperiness of the carrot flesh beneath the skin. On the fourth motion, I nicked my skin and the shallow nerves along the joint below my thumb stung. I hissed and clutched my hand.
“It’s okay.” He grabbed a towel and pressed it to my hand. “Leave the rest to me.”
No. Determined to beat this fear, I squeezed the peeler and kept breathing deeply until the pain eased.
Uri’s eyes darkened with concern. He pulled the towel away; my wound had already healed over. His long finger traced the pink mark, the only reminder of the small wound.
“Try it again,” he suggested. “It’s the only way to build confidence.”
