by Terry Reid
“We’re out of time, Christopher. Don’t you see that?” Alex asked, lowering his voice so unwanted ears would not hear.
Christopher looked away but he did not move. “There must be another way…” he said, looking at Alex with pleading eyes. But he found no answers there, no glimmer of hope - only regret.
“You know there isn’t.” Running a hand down his face Alex glanced at the door and then to his little brother. “Look, I’m sorry John has not had the time to become the man you wanted him to be but it is his time to ascend. The prophecy on the piece of paper will not be wrong, regardless of everything else that has changed.”
“But that’s my point, things have changed,” Christopher protested. “People are dead who are not supposed to be and things that were not meant to happen have come to pass.”
Alex looked him square in the eye. “You knew his time was near the first time you read that bit of paper. The prophecies from the House of a Thousand Paper Swans are never wrong.”
Chris lowered his gaze, defeated. Swallowing hard, he swiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. “How are we going to approach this?” he asked with a trembling voice. They both turned when Hayley stepped gracefully around them.
“I’ll speak to him,” she said softly, turning back to the brothers. “I can relate more to what he will be asked to do.”
“You don’t have to be the one to tell him if you don’t want to, Hayley,” Alex said.
“It is fine, my love. Someone must.” With that she vanished into thin air.
******
John stared at her as if she was mad. His eyes were wide and bloodshot. He had been crying recently, she knew. But what that had been over paled to insignificance to what John had just been told.
“You want me to kill myself? Are you fucking insane?”
Hayley closed her eyes and shook her head. “That is not what I said, John,” she said gently, as if speaking to a child.
“Really? Because that’s what it sounded like to me! How the hell am I supposed to go through all that and come back from it as if nothing ever happened? I saw what happened to you when Alex took your soul from your body!”
“Your body will fall into a coma and it can survive like that for some time. You know that.”
“That’s exactly the problem, Hayley! If we’re not back in time I will die!” he yelled, throwing his arms up. With downcast eyes he wrapped his arms around himself and began pacing the room.
“I would not be asking if there was any other way.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, stopping in his tracks. “Michael’s an archangel. He’s probably killed Gabriel by now anyway, and even if he hasn’t, he will do.”
“No, he won’t,” Hayley said sadly, shaking her head.
A chill crawled down his spine. “What makes you say that?” He asked, but he feared the answer.
Hayley held her hand out to him. “Let me show you.” When he hesitated, she said, “The easiest way is to show you the future I have seen. Michael will not survive without us. Let me show you.” John took her hand.
Chapter Twenty One
Michael smacked the wall hard. Pain exploded up his spine and his vision blurred. Hot copper filled his mouth as he stumbled forward. He managed to keep his balance - but only just. The angel had tried to shed his flesh when he had been sent sailing through the air, but Gabriel had blocked his powers.
The enemy came into view. The fallen angel stormed across the frozen, dark grasses of the graveyard toward him, sword levelled. Blades crunched loudly beneath his boots.
A flap of his aching wings carried Michael three feet away from the church wall and put him back on balance. He readied his ancient blade in anticipation for the next attack.
Gabriel stopped a short distance away. Smiling, he allowed the tip of his sword to fall to the grass. “What’s the matter, old man? Did I surprise you with how fast I am?”
Michael held his composure despite the agony of the aches and bruises that covered his body. “You are not as strong as you think.”
Gabriel burst out laughing. “Not as strong? Are you joking?” he shouted between barking laughs. “I can hear you calling them for help,” he accused the archangel, pointing a bony finger. He laughed again, more quietly this time and lowered his hand. “You wouldn’t be doing that, not unless you were frightened of me. Not unless you knew you couldn’t win.”
“I have been going easy on you, Gabriel, hoping you will see sense. You and I were like brothers once.”
“Really? Is that what you have been doing this past hour?” Gabriel asked, squinting at him.
Michael tasted bile in the back of his mouth and swallowed hard. “This is your last chance, Gabriel. Leave this city and never return.”
Gabriel’s smile vanished and he shook his head. “Not until the War Child is dead!” he shouted, pointing his sword at his former comrade.
“She is dead, Gabriel, in the way you knew her. I have sent her and Alexander home. They are no threat to you. So why do you still persist in this madness?”
Gabriel lowered his blade again and blinked, staring at Michael as if he were crazy. “Then she isn’t dead, is she? He will just send her back as a human again at some point in the future.”
Michael shook his head. “No, it is as I said. She is no threat to you.”
Gabriel gritted his teeth. “She is a threat to everyone on this planet for as long as she exists!” Engulfed in rage, he screamed and swung for the archangel.
Michael caught the swing midflight and with a hard push sent the fallen angel staggering back. Screaming, Gabriel lunged again. This time when he raised his sword, however, it caught a stray bolt of blue lightning. Releasing his blade, the black winged angel stumbled backwards, clutching his burned hand. He looked at Michael with wounded eyes. The archangel had lowered his blade and was slowly backing up, but a flit of his dark eyes skyward gave the game away.
Raising his hand, Gabriel called his sword back. Retrieved, he readied himself for the attack. But none came. Instead, something much worse descended; a rain of angels. Three of them. They landed on silent feet, forming a ring around him. A quick glance around the faces and Gabriel scowled. Alexander threw his hand out - shooting a bolt of lightning - but it only struck the grass, sending a large shower of dislodged dirt and frozen grass skyward.
“Go after him,” Michael shouted. Alex nodded his way, then he, Hayley and Christopher disappeared. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
******
Gabriel reappeared at the foot of North Hanover Street. Flaring black feathers, he threw his hands out. Christopher was the first to re-emerge from the ether - wielding bolts of white lightning at his fallen brother. Gabriel caught two on the palm of his hands - having anticipated the move - and twisted around to fling them at Alex as he appeared on the pavement behind him. Alex vanished before it could hit and it struck the ground, vaulting a tower of tarmac and stone into the air.
At the same moment Christopher flung his sword, sending it barrelling hilt over blade. Gabriel threw an arm out and caught it by the cross guard without looking. He turned his head to look at his little brother, the corner of his mouth twisting into an evil grin. In his distraction, he did not react fast enough to avoid a large block of tarmac Alexander had thrown at his head. But the attack did nothing more than make Gabriel grimace.
Grabbing the hilt of Christopher’s blade he vanished and reappeared behind Alexander. Dropping his own sword, Gabriel threw his hand out and flung lightning at Alex. The guardian turned in time to catch it on his hand, using his sword as a lightning rod to ground it.
Abandoning the attack, Gabriel swung his newly acquired blade. Alex caught it on his own sword and forced his brother away. Separated, Alex swung hard - only to miss as Gabriel stepped back - slicing the air. Overreaching, Gabriel reached out and grabbed Alex by the throat. Alex tried to raise his sword but it was wrenched from his hand by invisible forces. Gasping and clawing desperately for air, Alex
spread his wings and flapped frantically, but Gabriel had him by an iron grip. Alex tried to return to his energy state, only to fail. He looked into Gabriel’s mad eyes and saw him raising Christopher’s sword.
Suddenly he fell to the ground, released. Alex looked up in time to see Gabriel being wrenched backward down the street. He landed in a jumble of black feathers and tangled limbs, dumped unceremoniously by whatever force had flung him there. A pinprick of red at the top of the sky caught Alex’s gaze and he looked up. In a few short seconds the angry crimson star had turned into a large fireball - racing towards the earth. Going down onto his knees, Alex wrapped his wings around his body. Christopher did the same. The fireball hit Gabriel square on, sending a mighty shockwave of road and lampposts every direction. Windows on nearby buildings shattered and the earth rocked beneath Alex’s feet.
Alex folded his wings back, knocking loose the thick film of brown dust that coated them. The sound of distant sirens and screaming car alarms greeted his ears. As he rose he saw her there through the veil of dust: an angel made of flames laying into his fallen brother with fiery fists and sword. He looked to Christopher, who had also seen what he had. The two of them took off running towards the fray.
The flaming angel was hammering into the black-feathered traitor. Gabriel had managed to regain his feet and was attempting to retreat. But running backwards was proving difficult, even more so with trying to fend off the raging newborn’s lightning fast sword blows. Each time Hayley swung her flaming blade, Gabriel barely stopped it. His wounds were also slowing him. He grimaced as the skin on the side of his face itched - healing the black charred flesh Hayley had given him when her fiery white knuckle had made contact with his eye socket. That time he had managed to strike her in the chest, sending her tumbling back several yards. It had not been much but it had been enough to allow him time to regain his feet and recall his fallen sword to hand - he had lost Christopher’s somewhere along the way.
Screaming, Hayley launched herself at him, wings flaring in a fan or orange and red flames - their ends rippling madly behind her in a blur of beautiful, but deadly light. Gabriel raised his sword just before Hayley’s downward strike found metal. The blades rang out and she flapped her flaming wings, carrying herself back a safe distance as Gabriel threw out his left hand and sent a bolt of electricity surging towards her. It missed as her rippling form shifted to one side like a mirage.
What are you doing, kindred? You’re going to ignite! Alexander screamed inside Hayley’s mind.
Forgetting Gabriel, she turned her molten white eyes on her soul mate running up the street. This is the way it must be, she scolded him. She sensed Gabriel vanish but had no want to give chase. For some reason she could not take her eyes off Alexander.
He stopped in his tracks. Without taking his eyes off Hayley, the old guardian slowly walked towards her. Shattered tarmac crunched beneath his footfalls and clouds of ash rose with every step, but all the while still he never lifted his eyes from her. Stepping so close that any normal man would have burned, Alex placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her. Her fire went out like a light. Hayley gasped, falling into his arms, white feathers folding limply against her. Alex held her up with his thick arms. “I’ve got you, kindred, I’ve got you.” She looked up at him with big, tired eyes.
“Gabriel,” she said, twisting in his arms, her voice taking on renewed urgency. Alex gently held her back.
“Christopher has given chase,” he said, getting her attention.
“We must help him! Let’s go!” She tried to pull away but Alex held her tight.
“No, he’s running scared,” he said, his eyes drifting into the distance. Alex looked back at her. She had already stopped squirming. “You frightened him off.”
Hayley’s eyes narrowed. “I was going to kill him if you hadn’t of stopped me.”
“You almost destroyed the whole city. We agreed only to use your star fire if it was the only way to stop Gabriel. The last resort, remember?”
Hayley looked away for a moment. Drawing a deep breath she looked back at her soul mate and nodded. Spreading his wings wide, Alex leapt into the sky, carrying her with him.
******
Gordon Sloan peered through the door to Stacy’s room. Light from the hallway flooded in behind him through the narrow crack. Seeing she was sleeping soundly he quietly stepped back out, shutting the door. A quick glance up and down the corridor showed no one. Drawing a deep breath the old copper resumed his seat by the door. He groaned and stretched. His back was stiff from having sat on the plastic chair for so long. Something about its shape didn’t agree with the curvatures of his back. Shuffling about a bit more he glanced at his watch. It was just pushing midnight. He was disappointed. He had thought it was much later. Sighing, Gordon ran a hand over his tired face, scratching at his itchy, dry eyes.
Gordon Sloan had made a point to take every available shift he could to guard Mrs Hughes’ door. He felt it was the right thing to do - the only thing he could do - since his house had been blown up three nights before. Gordon also felt he owed Stacy a debt. Her son was missing and earlier that evening he had been told Hayley Foster was dead. In his desperation he had tried calling Hayley’s home phone to get Alex. There was no answer. He had even shouted at the top of his lungs for Alex and Christopher, but there had been no reply. He had pondered long and hard about other ways of reaching them before he had finally caved into defeat. I’m just a fat, middle-aged policeman. I can’t fight monsters no more than I can fly. He sighed and scratched the back of his hand. A dark shape in the corner of his eye made him look up. His heart stopped in his chest.
“Good evening, Constable Sloan.”
Gordon rose to his feet and drew his gun.
Chapter Twenty Two
Christopher tasted the bile at the back of his throat. He could feel the electricity in the air. The hallway was silent, deserted, but he knew death had recently stalked here and had walked these very steps he did. He could smell blood. Christopher had no desire to see it; he had not wanted to even set foot inside the hospital, but John’s conscience had spurred him inside. Despite his own apprehension and his own worst fears, the teenager had wanted to see what had happened for himself. Christopher had conceded; the teenager had been braver than him, despite his young years.
There was blood smeared across the floor leading into the doorway of the room they now stood outside of. Christopher froze, his breath catching in his throat. He placed a shaking hand on the hilt of his blade; driven by John’s rising fear. Taking a deep breath, he rounded the door and stepped inside. His hands came to his mouth. John’s mother was gone - her bed empty, but another innocent victim had been butchered by her bedside and left for dead.
Gordon Sloan sat slumped beside the bed, his back pressed against the wall, his head tipped forward. He sat in a crimson pool of blood where the ghastly trail from the corridor ended. Large lacerations scarred his thick forearms, a testament to his last moments trying to defend himself. His gun lay strewn across the floor.
The angel vanished, teleporting across the room to where his friend lay. Crouching down beside him, he placed a hand on the hideous gash on Gordon's stomach and one on his head. Shuffling his wings, Christopher shut his eyes and focused. Gordon’s head slammed back and his eyes shot open. He gasped at the air, sucking at it as if he had never had any in his lungs before. Christopher had to hold the large man to stop the officer from lashing out in his frightened panic. His strength left him in a few shorts moments, draining away with more of his life blood. He slumped back against the wall, drawing ragged breaths. He looked at Christopher with big, confused eyes.
“Be still, it will be all right,” the angel said softly, not taking his gaze from the policeman’s belly. He had been slashed deep but the damage was not beyond repair. Gordon gasped and winced as his stomach began to ache beneath Christopher's fingers. “It is ok, it’s healing.”
Gordon made an effort to sit still after that. Several min
utes slipped by and the pain gradually subsided. He felt strangely better - in his stomach at the very least if nowhere else. He twisted his head round so he could see the angel better. In a ragged breath, he muttered, “Thank you.”
Christopher gave a slight nod but his expression remained grim. “I have repaired most of the damage. You will be fine until help comes. They will sort out your arms and legs.”
Gordon looked up at him, confused. “Fix me properly, please,” he begged. “I want to help you.”
Christopher shook his head. “There is nothing you can do.”
Gordon starred at him but said nothing between his ragged breaths; he knew he spoke the truth. He turned his head towards the bed. “Stacy…”
“He’s taken her.”
“Why?”
Christopher wiped the tears from his eyes. “I don’t know.” He swallowed hard, fighting back his worst fears, as well as John’s. “Probably to torture her. To get to us.”
Gordon’s gaze grew hard. “Let me help you. This bastard needs to be put down!” He tried to get up but Christopher stopped him with a hand to the shoulder.
“No, you have already done enough and suffered for it.”
“He doesn’t know I’m still alive and kicking, we have the element of surprise,” Gordon said defiantly. “He’s clearly not very good at this killing thing, is he?” he said with a forced smile. It was lost on Christopher, however, and all the angel’s sullen expression reminded him of was the gravity of the situation.
“He would have killed you if he wanted to. You were only spared to leave us a message, a warning.”
“What do you mean? He never told me anything.” Christopher slowly reached across him. Gordon looked down. Clutched among the numb fingers of his right hand was a soaked red piece of paper. Christopher carefully slipped it from them, nervously peeling open the soiled note. Gordon watched him with hazy eyes. His head throbbed. “What does it say?”
