by Tiffany King
Sam giggled at her words.
Lynn may be all Goth, but she had a serious obsessive compulsive disorder when it came to germs and food preparation. She had major issues with eating food after it sat out too long and made waiters at restaurants bring her food as soon as it was prepared. I found the whole thing funny and teased her about it constantly.
"I would be more worried about not having a sink to wash my hands in," I said teasingly.
"Ha, never fear, I planned well for that," she said, pulling a package of antibacterial wipes out of her bag.
Sam giggled and I grinned, but we both took one willingly. The thought of all the different things I had handled that day that others had touched, made even a normal person like me blanch.
"I like these wipes better than the gel," Sam said, wiping the fronts and backs of her hands. "The gel doesn’t help get the dirt off like these do," she added, holding up her dirty wipe for us to inspect.
"Gross," I said, looking at my own grubby wipe.
"See, you guys are loving my OCD now aren't you," Lynn said mockingly.
"We are, we are," Sam said, dramatically throwing her arms around Lynn. "Oh, thank you for saving the day sweet child," she added, in a long drawn out country drawl.
Lynn and I burst out laughing at her antics.
"What did we miss?" Shawn asked, juggling a tray of food as he maneuvered under the branches to sit next to Sam.
"We were just appreciating how fabulously smart Lynn is," Sam said cheekily, making Lynn and me laugh again.
"What's so funny?" Mark and Robert asked in unison joining us in our sanctuary.
"Obviously an inside joke," Shawn grumbled.
His disgruntled words set us off again. Finally, after a few moments of laughter, we were able to fill in the guys between giggles. By the looks they shot us, it was obvious something had gotten lost in the retelling.
"I guess you had to be there," Sam said, unwrapping her burger. "Any ketchup?" she asked, removing the top of her bun.
"Pretty sure it's against the law to eat a burger, or fries for that matter without, ketchup," Mark said, pulling a handful of ketchup packets out of the pockets of his cargo shorts. He handed several to me for my fries and I smiled at him appreciatively.
"Thanks," I said, touched that he knew me so well.
Lunch was delicious, and much to Sam's dismay, both Lynn and I dug into our gyros with gusto, enjoying the tender meat and tangy white sauce that drenched the top.
The afternoon moved quicker than the morning, and before I knew it we were storing our belongings into the Navigator and heading toward the revival. Dusk was upon us when Mark pulled into the crowded parking lot that had been vacant the night before.
Mark, Sam, Shawn, and I piled out of the vehicle, leaving Lynn and Robert behind. They would wait to exit the SUV until we were inside the brightly lit tent. We had decided the night before when we made our exhaustive plans that they should skirt the property acting as lookouts. We thought it would look less suspicion if only four of us entered the tent together; after all, it was perfectly acceptable that Mark and I would drag a couple of friends along. Four extra friends, though, seemed to be pushing it.
Mark reached for my hand as we slowly strolled toward the tent with Shawn and Sam next to us. We appeared to be nonchalant, but in truth, adrenaline raced through us all. I worked to keep myself as calm as possible, trying to focus on the emotions that filled the dirty massive canvas tent in front of me. My apprehension from the night before came crashing back again as I felt the oppressive weight of the emotions around me.
Shawn reached out and pulled the flap of the tent aside so we could step into the brightly lit area. I wrinkled my nose when the smell of moldy canvas assaulted my senses. I had gone camping once with my parents when I was growing up and had gotten ferociously sick while we were surrounded by nothing but wilderness. The smell of the tent we slept in had only compounded my nausea, and to this day the smell of canvas still made bile burn its way up my throat.
The space we stepped into was crowded, with mostly guys standing around talking. I spotted several girls as we made our way toward the back row of the rough manmade benches, but none of them were the girl from the night before.
"Do you see her?" Shawn asked, leaning in to whisper in my ear.
I shook my head "no" and continued to scan the crowd. The emotions of those in the tent swirled, around us in a sort of haze that I felt I could touch if I tried. I had been around despair and animosity before, but not all at once. I found myself working hard to keep my own emotions at bay as the other emotions in the room threatened to overwhelm me. Mark kept my hand firmly in his giving me the support I needed.
After several minutes, the lights in the tent dimmed and everyone began to take their seats. A guy around our age sat next to me, and once again I had to fight back nausea. He took grunge to a whole new level, wearing jeans that I was pretty sure could stand up on their own, a shirt that was as holey as it was dirty, scuffed up combat boots that had duct tape wrapped around the toes and long, dark, oily hair that rested against his pale sunken-in cheekbones. Once I could get past the stench that surrounded him, I focused on the emotions that he was experiencing. By his appearance and glowering expression, I had expected to feel deep animosity flowing around him, but was shocked that despair seemed to fill every available space inside him. I fought the temptation to let his emotions inside me, curious about what had made such a tough looking guy feel so lost. I felt bad that I had instantly stereotyped him.
"Don’t let him in," Mark sent the thought my way after pulling my conflicting thoughts from me. "We have to get a lay of the land first before we show our cards," he added, dropping my hand so that he could pull me snugly into his arms, allowing me to feel his steady heartbeat against my shoulder.
"I know. I just feel bad. I'm not sure I have ever felt so much despair from one individual."
"Don't worry were going to fix it, we just need a plan."
I nodded my head slightly, showing that I agreed with him. Taking my focus away from the forgotten soul next to me, I glanced around the tent trying to gage the emotions of the other occupants. My surveying was interrupted when an individual entered the tent from the narrow opening in front of us.
There was no need to stereotype the individual in front of me. I could feel the evil radiating off him from where we sat. I glanced at Sam wondering if she was feeling the same thing. By the way she raised her eyebrows at me, I could tell we were on the same page.
Outwardly, his appearance was about as ordinary as you could get. He wore faded jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and non-descript running shoes. He topped of his wardrobe with a worn-out Yankees cap pulled snugly over his head. It was glaringly obvious that he deliberately dressed the way he did to draw people in. He was as unthreatening as they came, especially with the genial smile that he plastered across his face. My gifts made it easy for me to see through his ploy right away and see the monster that lurked below the innocent exterior.
We watched him approach the pulpit and wave to some of the people in the audience like they were old friends.
"Good evening everyone. I'm Alan, as many of you already know," he said in a welcoming and engaging voice, judging by the rapt attention he received. His voice had the opposite effect on me, making my skin crawled just hearing it.
"I'm so glad to see so many new faces here this evening," he said, sweeping his eyes out across the makeshift room. "If you're sitting here tonight it's because you’ve decided to take control of your life," he added as everyone around us starting clapping. We joined in reluctantly after exchanging looks.
"Are you fed up with how the government handles your hard earned money?" More applause followed his words.
"Do you get sick of illegal aliens coming in and stealing your jobs?" This time whistles sounded out along with the clapping.
"Do you hate following rules and regulations that are set by people you never voted for?" Several individu
al stood up while they clapped harder.
"Do you wish you could do something about it?" Everyone except for my small group rose to their feet hooting and hollering. Shawn and Mark surged to their feet, pulling Sam and me up fluidly with them so we wouldn’t stand out. Everyone clapped for several minutes before Alan finally motioned for us to sit.
Once the rowdy crowd had settled down, Alan continued, "That's why we're here. It's time that the underdog finally finds his voice. How many times has life slapped you down? How many times have those you counted on the most disappointed you, yet again? You're better than that and you can make a difference. You will no longer be the underdog anymore. I will show you and guide you to take control of your life. I will give you the incentive you need so you're not a doormat anymore." His words resulted in more applause.
I could now see how he had gained followers. He used the pain and suffering they had endured against them, letting it fester into something else. The grunge guy next to me was the first to applaud each of Alan's sentiments, and yet his despair seemed to multiply with every word Alan uttered. I could not comprehend how one individual could handle so much negativity without lashing out.
"I think that's what Alan uses. He builds their negative emotions up and presents himself as the answer to their troubles," Mark's thoughts filled my head as I nodded in agreement. The only question was what did Alan do to them once the emotions reached that level? We had come here to save one person's soul, but it was glaringly obvious that we had stumbled into something much bigger. Haniel had been right, we were untrained to handle an operation of this magnitude. I wouldn't even know where to begin, I couldn't help thinking as I glanced around the room. We definitely needed our Archangel's guidance and expertise on how we should proceed.
We were going to have to convince Haniel we were needed here.
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur and before we knew it the meeting came to an end. We watched Alan make his way through the crowd, stopping to talk to several individuals. It was only then that I finally saw the girl from the day before. I watched as Alan grabbed her hand and led her out the back of the tent.
Mark, who was following my every thought, spotted her mere seconds after I found her. "We can't do anything tonight," he sent me silently.
"I know," I agreed grudgingly. Glancing around one last time as we exited the tent, I made eye contact with a massively huge guy with bad acne standing on the far side of the space. He was dressed in clothes that were a size too large for him and had obviously been chosen to camouflage his weight, but instead they only seemed to enhance it. His hair was long and covered his head like a string mop that had seen better days. The most startling feature about him though, was the hatred that not only flowed around him, but also penetrated through you when your eyes met his.
Mark once again intercepted my thoughts and glanced briefly in his direction, but quickly looked away.
"Let's go," he said quietly, leading me from the tent.
Shawn and Sam were already climbing into the vehicle by the time we walked out into the cool night. The moon was full overhead as we silently walked toward the vehicle. We kept our pace casual, although we yearned to flee the scene behind us. The oppressive emotions had grated on me and I felt shaky as Mark finally helped me into the passenger seat.
He started the vehicle and pulled out of the dirt lot.
"Did you guys find anything?" I asked Lynn and Robert, turning sideways in my seat.
"Not much. We walked around the tent a few times, but all the action was pretty much in with you guys. We saw a couple guys come out and smoke cigarettes, but other than that, no one else left the tent. We wound up standing outside the opening at the front of the tent so we could hear everything that was going on. The guy in there sounded like a complete loon," Lynn answered.
"Yeah, talk about government hate," Robert added.
"Completely," Sam said. "You should have been inside the tent. It's glaringly obvious that he preys on those that haven’t had a break their entire life. The poor girl next to me was a mess. Her despair was enough to make me feel pukey."
I had been so focused on the guy beside me and the freak up front spouting his words of wisdom, I hadn't even paid attention to who was sitting on the other side of Sam. "The guy beside me was the same way," I told them.
"What are we going to do?" Sam asked.
"I think we need to talk to Haniel again. I agree with him. Now that we scoped out the place, we are ill equipped to handle a situation like this," Mark said as he merged onto the highway.
"I agree also. I think we need to convince Haniel to show us what we need to do," I said, quietly pondering how we were going to talk him into it. "What do you guys think?" I asked Sam and Shawn.
"We feel the same," Shawn said, glancing at Sam for confirmation. She nodded her head before sinking back into a more comfortable position. "Sam sensed the majority of the room was filled with forgotten souls. Did you get the same vibe Krista?"
"Pretty much. All but one guy who I couldn’t quite gauge. I noticed him watching us when we were leaving. The aura of hatred surrounding him was out of control. I can't tell if he is a forgotten soul or just a henchman of Alan's, but he definitely gave me the creeps," I said.
The rest of the drive was quiet as we all digested what we had learned that night. It was a little disheartening to feel under-skilled at something. For years we had excelled at school and were used to things coming easier to us.
Mark pulled into his driveway and the headlights cut across the exterior of the building, illuminating Haniel's tall, imposing posture. He was obviously not happy
Chapter 9
None of us spoke as we filed out of the car and headed toward the front door that Haniel had disappeared behind.
My anxiety began to claw uncontrollably through my body. I used my handy tricks to fight it back, but could only barely hold it at bay as we walked into the living room where Haniel stood. I kept my eyes on him as we all found seats on the two couches. Though his expression or emotions didn’t deviate from what he normal, I could sense that he was disappointed in us. I felt sick for defying him and yet my soul ached for those we had been unable to save. It was a double-edge sword for me.
"Did you achieve the results you set out to accomplish tonight?" he asked, making it clear he already knew the answer.
"No, you were right. The situation was more severe than we had anticipated," Mark said, still standing. "But that doesn't mean we're giving up. We just need your help to prepare the girls."
"It would take many moon cycles to prepare you for a situation such as this."
We all exchanged looks. Haniel made it seem like he knew more about the situation than he had originally let on.
"Yes, we have been aware of the situation for some time now, but more crucial circumstances have demanded the attention of the Guides and Protectors," he said picking the thoughts from our heads.
"Then why don't you prepare us?" Sam asked, jumping to her feet to pace in front of us.
"I am training you, but we do not send Guides and Protectors into a situation that they cannot handle," he said in a dismissive voice.
"You didn't seem to care this much when it was our parents. Where was all this concern when they were being slaughtered?" Shawn asked in an uncharacteristically angry voice.
My eyes filled with tears at the pain in my brother's voice. The death of our parents was a subject we often skirted around, and I felt his pain keenly.
For the briefest moment, I thought I saw pain flash behind Haniel's beautiful blue eyes, but it was gone before I could be sure. "Your parent's death was the greatest loss we have ever suffered and is the reason we proceed with caution and great deliberation before we assign a mission," Haniel said in his normally passive voice that worked its usual magic and seemed to instantly sooth the anger radiating from Shawn.
"Haniel, how can we ignore them?" I finally asked. "My soul can't seem to let her go. I don’t think I could liv
e with myself if we didn’t at least try. We need your help, please," I begged, brushing away a stray tear.
He studied me for a moment and finally nodded his head. "We begin tomorrow afternoon," he said simply before he abruptly left us.
My emotions swelled at his words as hope erased the last traces of anxiety from me. We would save the forgotten souls and we would do it the right way, with the help of our Archangel.
"You okay?" Mark asked, sitting beside me on the couch, gently rubbing my back.
"Yeah, I'm just glad Haniel agreed. I didn’t want to have to hardball him, but truthfully, I knew one way or another we weren’t going to just leave them."
"Well you certainly got through to him. I think he likes you."
"Oh gross, he's like a father figure to me," I said, horrified at the suggestion.
"Not romantically, silly. I meant he likes you because you're special," Mark said, nudging me with his shoulder.
"I'm not any more special than any other Guide," I said, indicating my two other friends who were too busy playing the Xbox with the guys to pay attention to our conversation.
"You're wrong Krista," Mark said passionately. "We all see it, and one day you will too. You're like a light we're all drawn to."
"That's sweet, but you just feel that way because your heart and soul are connected to mine," I said embarrassedly, trying to take the spotlight off of myself.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Mark said chuckling, letting the uncomfortable subject drop.
***
School the next day was torture as I anxiously awaited the opportunity to beef up our training. Every moment that the forgotten souls remained with Alan would make it more difficult to win them back. We had exactly three afternoons of training to get into tip top shape before my mom was released from the hospital and my free time was cut drastically.
I had mixed emotions about my mom returning home. Part of me had missed her immensely during the month she had spent in the hospital, but a bigger part of me would miss the freedom I had begun to take for granted.
