by Bob Williams
“What kind of game are you playing here, Shields?” I ask.
“I… uh…oh God,” she mutters. She looks completely defeated. Like she’s put all her eggs in one basket in the hope that the Network would still be viable. That this one thing could save us all. I, of course, am let down, because I love a big reveal, but I still don’t know what it was, so I can’t be crushed that it isn’t here. Or at least it doesn’t appear to be. I turn to Cole, who doesn’t look disappointed so much as outright furious.
“What the hell is going on, Laura?” Cole shouts. Lexi gallops into the room and stands in front of me. “Is there even a Network? Or was this another one of the Three’s brilliant lies told to spread hope when there wasn’t any?”
“Cole, come on,” she says. “How many times did you see the Network in action? How could you possibly doubt its validity?”
“See what? I saw nothing. I took your word for it. I trusted you, and again you’ve lied to me, and here I am standing in an empty room with nothing to show for my blind faith.”
I start to intervene, because we need to decide on our next move, when Cole’s flashlight starts to flicker. I turn to Cole as he raps it against his palm a few times only to have it die completely.
“What the… seriously?” I say, because this is the perfect cap to some serious bullshit.
Behind me, I hear Cole say in a very odd voice, “What is that?”
I turn to look and I see it right away. Had there been even a shred of light in the room, it would’ve been invisible. But there it is, all the same. A soft glowing light, about the size of pinhead. It’s flickering as it floats erratically around the room.
“I have no idea. Shields?” I turn to her and know instantly that she knows exactly what it is. Tears are cascading down her cheeks. Just her expression says the weight of the world is off her shoulders.
“It’s the Network.” That’s all she says.
Cole walks up and stands next to me as we watch the light bounce around the room. It’s the size of a quarter but growing by the minute. And wow, is it bright. Cole impulsively brings his Mossberg around and pumps it.
“Cole!” I say. “No. Put it away. Shields says it’s on our side. Whatever it is. Just stand here with me and let’s let it play out. I don’t think its gonna hurt us. Besides, I don’t know what else to do.”
Lexi, for the first time since I met her, is actually behind me. I guess some things are just out of the protective duty lists of dogs.
The light is growing exponentially now, in size and illumination. Cole and I both have to shield our eyes with our arms. Still, I can’t take my eyes off it. It’s like one of those things, you don’t know what it is, but if you look away it might disappear and you’ll never see it again.
The light slowly begins to change, morph into a shape. Something is emerging from both sides of the illumination. It isn’t just a light. This is so much more. The radiance is overwhelming us all as we continue to back up all the way to the door. It doesn’t seem crazy at all when I take my sunglasses out of my coat pocket and put them on. When my eyes have adjusted, my brain has to convince me of what I’m seeing.
Wings. Emerging out of the brilliant light are large feathered wings. I drop to my knees in fear of the fact that I am in the presence of an angel. The wings fully expand to about eight feet or so in width, then they gently flutter a couple of times and begin to retract. As they retract, a man’s legs emerge from the radiant light, and a torso begins to take shape. By the time the wings are fully extended, the light has disappeared completely, my flashlight works properly, and there is a naked man standing in front of me. I mean, an actual, real live angel is standing in front of me.
“Lights,” it says. And the lights come on.
That’s when Cole faints.
MALCOLM
“Malcolm!” Shields says enthusiastically through sobs. She runs to him and throws her arms around him. “You’re alive!”
“Yes, Laura. Just barely,” he says. “It takes a great deal of energy to vanish, and even more to return. I won’t be doing that again for quite a while. Ah, yes! Mr. Prescott. Thank you very much. I know you protest to being called that, but that is what I will call you, so don’t bother asking me not to.”
“Hey!” I hadn’t even formed the thought in my head to ask him… it… what the heck am I supposed to call him… it? “How do you even know I don’t want to be called that?”
“One moment, please. I need to address my appearance.” He snaps his fingers and instantly he’s wearing blue jeans, boots, and a navy blue button-up shirt.
What the fuck? Am I in the presence of the most metrosexual angel in history?
“No, you are not, Mr. Prescott, in the presence of the most metrosexual angel in history. I just threw something on.”
“Hold on!” I say. “Just hold the fuck on for a second.”
“Language, Mr. Prescott.”
“Let’s start over.” Cole stirs on the ground and Shields goes to check on him. “You are an honest to goodness angel, yeah?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Why am I not freaking out right now? Or spontaneously combusting? Or I don’t know… freaking out?”
“You have seen, first hand, the demon Chaos enter your father and speak through him. You have also witnessed the essence of Chaos enter the bodies of other Regulars and become the creatures so eloquently called Freaks. You are not freaking out, Mr. Prescott, because your brain has already surmised that angels are the next logical step. The missing piece. In fact, you have never said it aloud before, but you have wondered where we were. The angels. Isn’t that true?”
“Yes. It’s true. Okay, so… yeah. You’re an angel named Malcolm. How do you know so much about me, Malcolm?”
“We have much to discuss, Mr. Prescott. And you have much work to do. But first, let’s get our friend Michael up and about. We should find another place to talk. I believe, Laura, that you have set up camp in the student union? I must vacate these premises. Despite the fact that the MSZ was my home, I can no longer stay here. The pain and suffering that took place here is weighing heavily on my soul.”
Cole is still not nearly returned from la-la land, so I pull him up and put his arm over my shoulder. Shields—I can’t bring myself to call her Laura—takes the rest of his weight and we slowly make our way out of the building. The miracle of interacting with an actual angel and the sheer excitement of it all is quickly forgotten as we once again make our way through the sea of bodies. Is there any possible way to make what happened here right? Will killing Kade be enough? One life for hundreds. No, it isn’t a fair trade. Kade’s death will not bring these people back.
No, it will not, Mr. Prescott.
What? Get the fuck out my head, Malcolm!
Language.
Shut up.
Mr. Prescott…
Quit calling me that!
I’ve been in your head since you walked into The 88. Your thoughts have been my words. We are linked, Mr. Prescott. My, oh my, it was quite the bone-chilling evening, wasn’t it? The weather gets much warmer, even in December, the farther south you come.
“Shut. Up!”
Shields, from the other side of Cole, says, “Huh? Nobody said anything. What’re you on about?”
“Oh… uh… nothing. I musta got carried away with my internal debate,” I say, sounding nuts.
“Care to share the topic of your internal debate?” she asks.
“The weather, actually. Just wondering why it’s so much warmer here in December than Chicago.”
“It’s the evil, Mr. Prescott,” says Malcolm. “There’s more of it here.”
“Well, that is certainly debatable,” I say.
Once we are out of the morgue formerly known as the Murfreesboro Safe Zone, we all feel like we’re breathing new air. Clean air. The air of life! The entire time I was in the MSZ I felt like I was inhaling death and exhaling life. As if every breath I took in there was time off the clock and, if
I didn’t get out of there, I was going to die.
Shields and I carry a still semi-conscious Cole back to the student union. Shields and I set up a makeshift bed for Cole on one the couches I found earlier. I tell Lexi to stand by and watch Cole while Shields and I go to get food and supplies from our vehicles.
Oh, and Malcolm the angel, who I am still having a good ol’ time taking in, disappears after casually saying he’s going to go have a look around. I’m pretty sure there’s no heavenly magic or something going on, but his wings simply emerge upward from behind his shoulders and expand outward in a most staggering display. It’s nearly impossible to not get caught up in it. He lifts himself effortlessly a few feet off the ground and glides towards the doors of the student union. He touches down ever so briefly, pushes open the door, then vanishes right before my eyes.
“He does understand that he’s just revealed himself to me, us, as an angel, right? He can’t just fly off like that. I have questions!”
“He… does that.”
KADE LEARNS THE SCORE
About thirty-five miles up Interstate 24, sitting in his office at the Hard Rock Cafe, Kendrick Kade suddenly, and rather violently, vomited. What he didn’t know was, but at the exact moment of his eruption, Malcolm the angel was making himself known to the Regulars at the Murfreesboro Safe Zone. Kade had been sitting back in his rolling office chair, one that he finally really liked, with his feet crossed and resting comfortably on his desk.
In his lap was a plate. The spoils of victory, he told himself. There were several grilled fingers and a few slices of Regular thigh. He’d earned this. Then his stomach turned and vomit shot from his mouth, hitting his boots and splashing everywhere. Kade threw his legs off the desk and flung himself to the floor as the vomiting continued. His stomach was heaving in a dramatic fashion, and his eyes bulged in their sockets. Kade thought he was close to death for sure.
Then, just as quickly as it began, the sickness was over. He was on all fours, still heaving, trying to regain his composure. He truly hoped that Ortiz hadn’t heard any of it and wouldn’t be bursting in to check on him. Kade rolled over onto his butt, brought his knees to his chest, and dropped his head. He had never felt to so disgusted. If anyone were to see him on the floor covered in vomit, they would die before they could tell.
Then, just as suddenly as before, a new and extremely unwelcome feeling came over him. It was as if a current of a thousand individual snakes was slowly sneaking and creeping into his body. His long, pitch-black hair stood on end. Whatever darkness that caused his heart to beat felt as if it could explode any minute. As the current grew stronger, Kade curled into a ball and hoped he would somehow survive.
His head whipped backwards as if someone had yanked his hair. His arms shot out to the sides and when they were stretched as far as they could go, each arm jerked several more inches and both shoulders dislocated. Kade screamed in agony, a sound he’d never heard come from his mouth before. He had not felt pain like this even when he had been tortured by The Black Hand prior to joining the cabal. Kade’s body levitated until he was very nearly standing. Then the surge in current grew and his right foot crossed and rested on top of his left.
Kade was afraid. He felt admitting this to himself might, in some way, help. It did not. He shot backwards and savagely slammed into the wall. Across the room was a rather extensive collection of knives that Kade had liberated from various Regulars he had murdered over the last couple of years. Out of the collection of knives rose three very sharp and very deadly blades. The three blades floated in the air for only a brief moment before spinning across the room towards Kade.
Two of the blades went straight through the centers of his upturned palms. The other speared his feet. Kade spit up blood; he’d bitten his tongue from the pain. He was being crucified by a force far greater than he could ever imagine.
His door opened slowly, and Ortiz stepped in. He crossed the room, the door closing of its own accord behind him, and stopped two steps away from Kade. His eyes locked on Kade’s, and he simply stared at him for several seconds, cocking his head ever so slightly in judgment.
“Well, don’t just stand there, you fool! Get—”
Then the eyes that were so intently focused on Kade’s turned blood red and started glowing. His ears stretched outward and grew pointed, and his teeth morphed into fangs. To crown the transformation, he grew four feet in stature, and his skin turned black as night. The thing that had been Ortiz waved its hand and Kade was rendered mute.
A voice clearly not Ortiz’ came from the mouth of the apparition. “Shut your foolish mouth, Kendrick Kade.” The voice was a low growl that reverberated throughout the room. “You stand on the cusp of victory, but your arrogance will be your downfall.”
It waved its hand once again. “What are you?” Kade spat.
“It is I, Kendrick Kade. Chaos. The one to whom you pledged your life. The one who’s given you this wonderful bounty you enjoy. The one who can very easily take it away if you fail me.”
“Master, I don’t understand! Why have you done this to me? My men and I have just returned from a great victory. We gave thanks to you! We honor you with blood, murder, and destruction. We annihilated the Murfreesboro Safe Zone and killed every Regular there. All for you, master!”
“Yes. I am aware. Your Black Hand spy was a true martyr to the cause. The destruction of their precious Network and the dismantling of all medical equipment has crippled the efforts of the Regulars in this region. They will scatter and our forces will grow. And we will continue to spread our message of hate, destruction, and death, until every last Regular is destroyed or converted.”
“Master,” said Kade, “we have returned with two of three members of their command structure. They are called the Three. One of them was at large when we executed our attack. But thanks to Bixby, we knew the identities of the remaining two and brought them back. It was my intention to torture them for any remaining information we hadn’t received from Bixby.”
“Save them. Here are your instructions. There is one named Prescott who lives. He narrowly escaped my grasp in Chicago, mere days ago. He is misguided and out for revenge. He poses a great danger to us, Kade. He is a pawn in a much larger game, and one with far reaching ramifications for us if he is not stopped. Revenge is a very powerful weapon. He must be captured and killed with great haste before he plays his hand. He is with the last two remaining survivors of your attack. You will draw them here using their friends as bait, and tomorrow evening you will capture them, you will hurt them, and you will sacrifice them all to me in a grand ceremony fit to glorify all eighty-eight demons. Are my instructions clear, Kade?”
Kade had been hanging on that wall for what felt like an eternity. He had lost a lot of blood and his body had been ferociously abused by Chaos. “Yes, master, glory to The Eighty-Eight! The Black Hand serves!” He could barely lift his head.
“Good. Remember what I have told you. Do not disappoint me, Kade.”
A knock on the door startled Kade from his slumber, and his now-cold plate of food slipped out of his lap and fell to the floor. He sprang from his rolling office chair and ran to the mirror on the wall opposite the door. His face looked normal. His hands were fine, and his feet were all right. He turned and looked at his office. Pristine. No vomit, no blood, and no holes in the wall.
“Come in,” he said.
It was Ortiz. “It’s time for your evening address, Boss. Have you thought about what you’re gonna say?”
Kade broke into a rather sinister-looking smile. “As a matter of fact, I have. Let’s go.”
PRELUDE TO SHOWDOWN
Cole finally wakes up from his fainting spell, with a new knot to add to his collection of cuts and bruises. I personally am not looking to add any more, but know that’s unlikely, not with the mission ahead of us.
“So, what did I miss?” he asks. “Did y’all get a chance to see what that light was all about? I went down early.”
“No
, you saw it. Just say it out loud. Shields already knew. I saw it and talked to it. Lexi even saw it. She peed herself, but at least she remained conscious. You saw what you saw, Michael. Now just believe it.”
“It looked like… an… angel,” he says, completely unsure of himself.
“That’s because it was, Cole.” We don’t have time for this.
“How is possible that an angel is not only here, on Earth, but working for us?” Cole asks incredulously.
“Is it that far out of the realm of possibility, Michael? Demons caused the Descent, so, what? Angels can’t exist?”
There’s a whooshing sound and the door of the student union flies open. Malcolm walks in, his wings completely outstretched. He retracts them and they disappear behind his shoulders. He walks casually towards the three of us.
“Be calm, Michael Cole, and know that all of your fears will be addressed shortly. I will answer all of your questions, and yours, too, Mr. Prescott.”
Stop. Calling. Me. That!
I don’t understand what your issue is with your name, Mr. Prescott. It is a very nice name. I don’t particularly enjoy calling you Mister, either. You certainly haven’t earned it. However, if I can’t call you by your name, what would you have me call you?
Just Prescott will suffice.
Oh, very well.
“Hey! What the… Where did you come from?” says Cole.
“Michael Cole, you saw me appear before your eyes while inside my quarters in the MSZ. Your mind couldn’t comprehend what you were seeing, so it shut down. You are clearly awake now and more amenable to accepting your new reality.”
“But… but—”
“You know what,” I say, “I’ll start. How did you end up here? And are there other angels in the playing field?”
“A fine question to begin with. I was dispatched by my superior to come and observe the activities of the Murfreesboro Safe Zone. At this juncture, Heaven has been knocked down by a stiff uppercut. We got up, but we’ve been given a standing eight count.”
