by Brian Fuller
Shujaa shook his head and sat down, pulling a Stinger from a jacket pocket and then putting it back again. A jolt ran up Helo’s spine. Where was Aclima’s heart? Did Goliath still have it in her pack? Had she turned it over to someone else? Aclima’s attention was inward. He feared what she might be thinking. She seemed convinced that sacrificing herself was her only path to redemption, and Shujaa might have given her an idea.
Car tires crunching on gravel outside broke the tense silence. A new black Cadillac pulled up beside them, and Corinth and Scarlet stepped out—only Scarlet’s aura beamed Ash Angel white. She was an Ash Angel again! Corinth held Scarlet’s hand as they approached the RV.
He put his hand on Aclima’s face. “Look. It is possible.”
Faramir stood and peered out the window. “So why did they get to come back in a sweet ride while we hoofed it through the woods at night?”
“Commander Crane hates Sicarius Nox,” Helo offered.
“He hates you,” Faramir returned.
The flimsy door opened, and Corinth and Scarlet stepped inside wearing Ash Angel Organization jumpsuits. Helo stood. Scarlet came to him, arms outstretched, and hugged him.
“I’m so sorry about Tela,” she said. “She really, really liked you.”
He nodded, then she pulled away, clearing room for Corinth to bestow a man-hug on him. “Sorry, man. I know you did everything you could.”
“Thanks.”
“How is she an Ash Angel again?” Aclima asked, eyes intent.
Corinth turned to Scarlet, who smiled broadly at him.
“I don’t know,” Scarlet said. “After Helo and Aclima went chasing after Cain, I wandered off along the shore. When Corinth found me . . . I don’t know. I was just filled with such relief and hope. I just . . . changed.”
Aclima nodded. “Got any more of those jumpsuits?”
Goliath pulled herself out of the driver’s seat. “I think there might be some in the cargo hold.”
“There aren’t,” Faramir said.
“I’m going to check anyway.”
Goliath slipped outside, Corinth and Scarlet snuggling up on the couch. Helo smiled. Scarlet was happy. She was taken care of. At least some good had come from Cain’s circus of horrors.
After a few moments, Goliath poked her head back in. “Aclima, I think I found something that might work. Can you come out here for a second?”
Aclima gathered the comforter around her and walked out. Helo trailed close behind, keeping an eye on Shujaa. He couldn’t let Aclima out of his sight. If the AAO didn’t off her, she might do it herself.
The door banged shut, and Goliath led them to the back of the RV. The cargo door hung open, and Goliath’s pack sat on the ground. “Your heart is in there,” she said, “along with some weapons and ammo. Nothing that can be tracked.”
“What’s going on?” Helo asked.
“Look,” Goliath said, lowering her voice. “The Ash Angels are going to lock Aclima up. The order came in almost as soon as the op was done. I’m afraid Mars and Crane are in agreement that Aclima needs to be controlled and then killed. She’s got to run. Can you hotwire a car, Aclima?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Take the Caddy,” Goliath said.
The door banged open. Aclima’s eyes widened, and she leaned over and whispered something to Goliath. Helo peeked around the RV to see Shujaa.
“Shujaa,” Helo said, stepping around and putting up his hands. “Hold up.”
The slap of footsteps on the pavement behind him turned his head, and he caught a glimpse of Aclima disappearing into the woods on the other side of the road in a Speed-powered blur wearing nothing more than her underwear and the backpack.
Helo moved to block Shujaa, but the powerful Ash Angel shoved him aside. Aura flared, Shujaa sprinted forward . . . only to be drilled in the knees by a speeding Goliath in a move worthy of an NFL linebacker. Shujaa flipped and skidded on his back across the gravel parking lot until he hit the pavement and rolled once.
Goliath was on him in a split second. They both had Strength, but Helo knew sheer size would help Shujaa overpower Goliath. Helo sprinted over as Shujaa rose with his rifle in hand Goliath hanging on to his neck, legs around his waist.
Helo boosted his Strength and kicked Shujaa’s knee out. He fell like a tree, crashing down hard on his side to the pavement, rifle slipping free. Helo grabbed it while Goliath slipped off Shujaa’s back. They backed away, Shujaa rising gingerly on one leg.
“Angel Born!” he yelled. “You know better! She cannot live. The world can never be truly safe while any of them live.”
Then Rapture.
Since he hadn’t prepared his mind, the light flooding him was a pale shadow of what he had experienced back at the base. It was welcome but feeble in comparison. But it would heal Shujaa. When his senses returned, Shujaa was turning toward the woods. Helo raised the rifle, sighted through the scope and got blasted in the back. The rifle fell as he dropped, spinal cord blown in two between his shoulder blades. Shujaa Sped away into the trees. Goliath knelt down, her healing energy pouring into him.
“Stand up slowly,” Argyle said. “Both of you. Turn around.”
“It’ll be okay,” Goliath said to Helo, catching his eye. Faramir leaned out the door, Corinth poking his head out behind him. Argyle leveled a Big Blessed Rifle at them.
“In the RV. Now,” Argyle ordered, face sober. He herded them inside and pushed them all the way to the back and the bed Aclima had recently vacated. “Start talking, Goliath.”
Goliath sighed. “I let her go.”
“We let her go,” Helo said. “I am not going to let the Ash Angels imprison and kill her. She can be an Ash Angel again. I know she can.”
“That is not your call!” Argyle said, frowning, brows furrowed. “Goliath, were you not ordered to deliver her for detention?”
“Yep,” Goliath said, face carefree. “Couldn’t do it. I’m with Helo on this one. Look at Scarlet. She returned. So can Aclima.”
“They should give her a chance,” Scarlet said.
“Yep,” Corinth added.
Argyle turned on them. “Again, this is not some kind of democracy. We have our orders, and the reason the Ash Angel Organization works is—”
Helo surged forward and punched him in the back of the head with a Strength-powered blow that caved in his skull. Argyle dropped, and Helo ripped the comm piece out of the man’s ear. Goliath picked up the rifle and pointed it at Faramir’s face.
“Hey!” Faramir said. “I’m, like, totally with you guys. You know? I won’t say a word. I’ve always secretly liked Aclima. Helo, too, really.”
Goliath rolled her eyes and blew his head off, punching a big hole in the RV wall behind him. Scarlet yelped.
Helo turned to Corinth, who tossed him the keys to the Cadillac. “Good luck, Helo. They can track it, so you’ll want to switch cars as soon as you can.”
“Tell them we threatened you,” Helo said, throwing him Argyle’s earpiece. “Call it in. Give us a little head start if you can.”
Corinth nodded.
“What if Shujaa kills her out there?” Scarlet asked.
“He won’t,” Helo said. “She’s too good.”
Goliath opened the door. “Apologize to the team for me. They really are good Michaels. I’ve always wanted to shoot Faramir, though.”
“Let’s get out of here before Shujaa gets back,” Helo said. They jumped in the Cadillac, and Helo gunned it out onto the two-lane highway. Goliath lowered the passenger-side window and threw her phone out.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Helo said. “You only have a year left.”
Goliath raised the window. “I only had a year left, so I had to do this. It’s not like there are any retirement benefits if you stay with the AAO. I believe in what you’re doing. I’ve seen you and Aclima together. I think you can bring her back. She deserves the chance.”
“Thank you,” Helo said. It felt good to have an ally. “Sham
e about Sicarius Nox.”
“Well, it was all right, I suppose,” Goliath said. “Wasn’t much fun because you kept hogging all the Shedim for yourself.”
He smiled and put the visor down to shield his eyes from the rising sun. “Did Aclima say where we should meet her?”
Goliath threw Argyle’s rifle in the back and reclined her seat. “She said she was looking for redemption. Said you would know where to find it. Do you?”
Helo grinned. “I do.”
Chapter 39
A Way
Helo trapped the salmon-colored paper under his scuffed, expensive shoe as he crossed the deserted parking lot of the Redemption Motorcycle Club. It was one of several fliers scattered around the building, most flapping against the chain-link fence surrounding the lifeless structure.
Helo picked up the flier, angling it toward the streetlight so he could read it.
“What’s it say?” Goliath asked, Big Blessed Rifle in hand.
“It’s announcing the closing social,” Helo said, folding it up and shoving it in his pocket. “It was earlier this evening. Dolorem’s supposed to ascend tomorrow. Too bad we couldn’t make it. He does a great barbecue.”
Goliath nodded, and they headed for the quiet building. A pang of sadness hit Helo as they approached the front door. Dolorem had so badly wanted the place to continue after he was gone. Helo had thought about fulfilling the wish of the Old Master who had helped and cared for him. But the idea of giving sermons day after day made him shudder, even if the barbecue was good, and now he was hunted by the AAO.
“I don’t think anyone’s home,” Goliath said. “We might have beaten her here.”
Helo peered through the slats of the window. “There’s a light on back there, so somebody’s—”
The door opened, Aclima and her red aura filling the frame. Dolorem had found her some ill-fitting, worn jeans and a loose T-shirt—and she looked on the verge of tears. Helo had half hoped she would have returned to an Ash Angel somewhere on her journey, but for now he would be happy she had escaped Shujaa.
He wrapped her in his arms while Goliath slipped past him and headed inside.
“Thank you for coming,” she said. “I knew you would.”
He squeezed her harder.
Dolorem stood in the aisle, a wistful grin on his bearded face. Sadness roosted in his eyes. “Get in here and shut the door, you two. Never know who’s watching. Both the Dreads and the Ash Angels know about this place.”
Helo let go of Aclima and shut the door. She took his hand and led him forward.
“And who’s this gal?” Dolorem said, indicating Goliath, who had taken a seat on the last bench. Aclima joined her while Helo hugged Dolorem, whose portly biker gut was covered with a barbecue-sauce-stained T-shirt.
“That’s Goliath,” Helo said. “She was the team leader for Sicarius Nox. She decided to ditch the AAO and help us.”
“I like her already,” Dolorem said. “Nice to meet you, Goliath. Big name for someone your size.”
Goliath shrugged. “My spirit is taller.”
“Well, welcome all to the Redemption Motorcycle Club,” Dolorem said, taking a seat on the bench in front of the women. Helo sat by Aclima, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Aclima’s filled me in about Cain and what happened,” Dolorem continued. “Glad he’s gone. I can’t believe he killed my Tela.” He choked up for a moment and then cleared his throat. “I didn’t receive a vision that could have helped, which is strange. Promise me you’ll find her grave. Digging up a body and burning it isn’t pleasant, but do it. Go back there on winter solstice and spread her ashes. If there’s any chance she can become an Ash Angel . . .”
“We will,” Helo said.
Dolorem nodded and swallowed hard, pausing for a few moments. “So what’s the plan for your and Goliath’s last year?”
“Make Aclima an Ash Angel again,” Helo said. “Whatever it takes. I was hoping you might have some ideas.”
“You think the Ash Angels will hunt her?” Dolorem asked, pinching his beard.
“Yes,” Goliath said. “She’s a Dread Loremaster. Even if she turns, they want her dead.”
“Make sense,” Dolorem said, face thoughtful. “They’re worried she’ll turn back into a Dread and return to her old ways.”
“If I manage to become an Ash Angel again, I will want to pass on quickly before the anger consumes me again,” Aclima said.
“You won’t turn again,” Helo said. “We can run. We’ll go someplace where—”
“Helo, no,” she said softly.
He frowned. “You can’t give up like this. This doesn’t have to—”
“It’s not giving up, Helo,” Aclima argued.
“But—”
“Settle down, Helo,” Dolorem admonished. “Hear her out. I think I know where she is going with this.”
He knew where she was going with this. Just because the AAO was hunting her didn’t mean she couldn’t stick around with him. As Blanks they could straight-up disappear, enjoy what was left of their lives.
Aclima took his hand. “I’m not giving up, Helo. If I die as a Dread, I’m going to hell. Without question. I’d be going back to Cain and all the rest of them, to eternal suffering and torment. The AAO is afraid I could be turned again. I am too. I . . . I am weak. Weak with anger. Weak with self-hatred. I don’t want to take the chance. If I can become an Ash Angel again, I want to die. I want my chance at redemption. I want peace. And then when you ascend in a year, maybe I can be there waiting. I’m still not convinced becoming an Ash Angel again is going to save me, not after what I’ve done.”
Helo got up and paced the center aisle, letting her words sink in. Cain had taken just about everything from him, and now Aclima would leave him too. She was right. She was always right. He hated it. Aclima snagged his hand when he wandered back in her direction.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it’s not what you wanted, but I’ve thought about this for a long time, even before I came and found you at the theater with Magdelene. The only thing that held me back from ending it then was wanting to thank you and to help end Cain. He’s gone now. You’ll be gone in a year. I want to be gone too.”
Helo sat down heavily, bench popping under his weight.
“Do you understand what she’s saying, Helo?” Dolorem asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.” She leaned her head back on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. “How do we get her back to an Ash Angel?”
“Let’s look at what we know,” Dolorem said. “Aclima, when you became an Ash Angel for the first time, what do you think did it? Driving King out of Cain?”
She shook her head. “I did what I did to save Helo. He got to me that night in the Hammer Bar and Grill. I was six thousand years of jaded, but somehow he punched through it with the cliché damsel-in-distress bit. I’d abandoned the typical Dread Loremaster life long before then, but when he did that simple act of kindness, it . . . I don’t know . . . just woke me up.”
Helo couldn’t help but feel proud of the memory, but it always surprised him how important it was to her. For him, what he had done was as natural as breathing used to be.
“That is so awesome,” Goliath said, sounding a little misty.
“Good,” Dolorem said. “Now the harder question. Sorry if it’s personal. What did Cain use against you to turn you back into a Dread?”
“He had a Sheid torch me over and over,” Aclima said, eyes distant. “Made me relive my worst sins. Made me hate myself for them. Made me angry at myself and at him to the point I thought my heart would explode and kill us all. I got so angry so fast. Too fast. I was surprised how weak I was. I wanted revenge upon him, just like I had for thousands of years, and that’s when it happened.”
Dolorem nodded. “I work with a lot of addicts here, and being around old hangouts, old company, and old hurts sucks them back into the bottle or the needle so easily. It’s
like riding a bike. What you need is time, an opportunity to do good, and some of Helo’s awesome sermons. He was good at it.”
“I sucked at it,” Helo said, remembering how his lame attempts put the parishioners to sleep in no time flat.
Dolorem winked. “Anyway, like I said, the most important thing is to do some good. And fortunately for you, I have just the thing. You probably know there are organized groups of Ash Angels who don’t fight Dreads for a living and devote their time to serving their non-angelic brothers and sisters. I’ve got a list in my office of a few. Helo, why don’t you come into the office with me. I need a word with you in private, if you ladies don’t mind.”
Stepping into the office was like coming home. The old metal file cabinets, the copious amounts of fast-food garbage, and the ancient computer still humming away on the beat-up desk—all of it so familiar and comforting it its own way. The room smelled more like a garage than an office, a faint tint of oil on the air.
Dolorem closed the door behind them and sat on the swivel chair in front of the computer. Helo leaned against the file cabinet and folded his arms, remembering his days trying to eke out sermons under Dolorem’s tutelage. After the last few weeks, he kind of wished he had stayed.
“Hey,” Helo said. “I wanted to thank you for teaching me that meditation technique.”
Dolorem’s eyes popped. “You kept doing it? You didn’t seem too interested.”
“I did,” Helo said. “Once I figured out the secret, it was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever experienced.”
Dolorem furrowed his brow. “Secret? You mean it works?”
Helo chuckled. “Yeah, it works. You didn’t think it would work?”
Dolorem leaned back, chair squealing. “Wow. I just thought it was something calming. So what’s the secret?”
“Can’t tell you,” Helo said. “That’s part of the deal.”
“Oh, come on. I leave this mortal coil behind tomorrow!”
“Then you’ll find out tomorrow. So, what’s up?”
Dolorem breathed out heavily. “Okay, first off, see the broom over there? Get it and push open the third ceiling tile away from the door.”
