The Angel Alejandro

by Alistair Cross

  “Madison! You are bleeding!” Alejandro started toward her.

  Madison held up her hand. “No. Nick needs you.”

  “Help him,” Beverly cried, her eyes imploring. “He’s dying. Nick’s dying. You healed him once, Nathaniel. Heal him again!”

  There was so much blood. His face was gray with death. Tom crossed himself as Nathaniel knelt over Nick Grayson’s body and laid hands on his chest. A soft glow encompassed the area.

  Nick stirred, coughing.

  Then Madison’s vision flickered and she toppled to her side. Memories of the battle played behind her eyes - the things she’d seen, the injuries she’d sustained.

  “Madison?” It was Alejandro’s voice.

  Then his hands were on her. She felt the buzzy warmth of his healing light moving through her body - just as it had been after she’d fallen in the pond. “Alejandro,” she said.

  “You will heal now.”

  She struggled to sit up and with Alejandro’s help, got to her feet. With each passing second, she felt the life returning to her; her fingers and toes tingled with it. The pain in her leg eased and the bleeding stopped. She looked at Alejandro, still unable to fathom him.

  Beverly still cradled Nick’s head. His color was returning as the rain continued washing the blood away from his torn uniform. It was taking him much longer to heal - the wound must have been a mortal one.

  “The demons,” Tom said. “Are they gone?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “Not precisely. The lesser demons had borrowed human bodies. Those bodies have been destroyed and my brother and I have returned the demons’ souls to their proper place, far away from here. But the Dream Reaper - he is in his natural form and will not be so easily removed.”

  Tom looked up at the building. “So now what do we do?”

  “We wait.” Nathaniel’s eyes were fixed on the burning building.

  His words made Madison shudder.

  Nick coughed again, his breathing returning to normal. “Thank God,” whispered Beverly, stroking his cheek. “Thank God.”

  * * *

  Then Beverly’s relief turned to terror.

  The doors of the exhibit hall burst open and Gremory Jones strolled out of the building, backlit by the fire that raged beyond him. Smoke rising from his trench coat, his hat at a jaunty angle, the walking stick under his arm, and his black briefcase smoking at his side, Jones grinned, and even from this distance, Beverly could see his face was not the same. Where the once-handsome features had rested so casually, so perfectly, now there was only horror. Blade-sharp cheekbones jutting under paper-thin skin, sunken, hollowed eyes filled with a hateful glee that glinted like a razor’s edge, and a twisted, ruined mouth, filled with jagged stumps of dirty yellow teeth.

  It was a face that would bring nonbelievers to their knees, praying for deliverance from evil. A face that, if watched too closely, if stared at too long, would loosen the moorings of the mind and snap the psyche in half as if it were no more than a fragile twig between gnarled, bony fingers.

  Jones’ head rested atop narrow shoulders, bobbing and jerking with his movements as if it would tumble from his neck if a solid wind picked up, and every edge of him - his elbows, knees, fingers, and shoulders, were all sharp bones, stick-like. He brought to Beverly’s mind terrible images of masks, of corpses, of jesters and clowns, of scarecrows, of praying mantises and other insects - he was horror, all horror, every horror, confined in a single body that moved toward them like a clot in the blood making its way to the heart.

  Nick struggled to sit up, but still wasn’t able. Beverly stroked his forehead.

  Alejandro turned to Nathaniel. “Make me human.”

  “What?” Nathaniel’s eyes flashed. “I cannot do that.”

  “Alejandro?” Madison said. “No, don’t.”

  But he ignored her. “You can do it,” he said to Nathaniel. “If I am human, I am of no value to him. I know you can do it. I know you can!”

  “That is not an option, brother! It would mean a fall from grace. You would have no powers! And your body … it would grow old and die, just as every mortal body dies.”

  Gremory Jones had slowed, watching them with curious eyes. Nick squeezed Beverly’s hand.

  “It is what I want,” said Alejandro. “It is my choice.”

  “The memories of your existence before this will never be returned to you. Not until you leave this body. You won’t even remember your own name!”

  “Those memories are not mine even now. I do not know my real name. I am Alejandro, and that is enough for me.”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “No.”

  Alejandro glanced at the approaching Gremory Jones. Something in his eyes went stony. Beverly couldn’t look away from him. “I am in human form now, am I not, my brother? And humans have free will. It is the law. And this is my will.”

  That brought the demon to a stop. He paused, bent to set his briefcase down, and continued to watch.

  Nathaniel looked incredulous. “But-”

  Madison shook her head. “Alejandro. Please, no. You’ve already done enough. You were going to die for me! I can’t allow you to-”

  He looked at her. “Yes, I would die for you. But I would rather live for you.”

  Gremory Jones appeared uneasy, his long, stick-like fingers working nervously in front of him, his eyes sparking with madness and uncertainty.

  Alejandro looked back to the other angel. “It is my will.”

  Nathaniel was silent a long moment.

  Beverly looked from Madison to Alejandro, seeing the love between them, and recognizing how rare such love was. “Do it.”

  Nathaniel looked at her.

  “I think you should do it,” Beverly repeated.

  “Yes,” said Alejandro.

  Nathaniel closed his eyes and for a moment, seemed lost in thought. “Very well,” he said at last. “Kneel before me.” His voice was rough and full of emotion.

  “I will be yours always,” Alejandro told Madison, then turned and knelt before his brother, head bowed.

  Nathaniel laid his hands upon Alejandro’s golden hair and as he began to speak in the ancient language of angels, his wings appeared, spreading behind him, pure gold but without fire. As he spoke, Beverly saw a white mist - energy - rise from Alejandro’s blond head, curling around Nathaniel’s fingers, disappearing into his hands. It’s his grace. It’s leaving.

  The moment seemed suspended in time, but it was only a matter of seconds before Nathaniel lifted his hands. “Rise, brother.” His voice was quiet and sad. “Rise and taste mortal life.”

  Alejandro stood, a fine tremor in his hands. His eyes came open - wide with new wonder - and they no longer shone silver. They were blue-gray - the color of faded denim. He tipped his face to the sky, letting the rain wash it clean. “Thank you, brother.” His whisper was charged with emotion.

  Madison had stepped back, watching in awe, and when he faced her, she broke into tears and fell into his arms.

  Beverly looked down at Nick. He was watching Alejandro, his expression stunned. His color had fully returned, giving him a healthy glow. He was, right now, the most beautiful thing Beverly had ever seen, and without another thought, she swept wet hair from his forehead, bent, and kissed him. His arm came up and pulled her into him.

  * * *

  From Alejandro’s embrace, Madison stared up at Gremory Jones. She was prepared for him to strike, to kill them, to take all of their souls just to spite them - but he didn’t. His face, rather than angry, looked tired, defeated.

  He brought his hands together and tipped his head. “Ah, love. There is not much that can triumph over that. Such a tired cliché - but nevertheless, it also happens to be true.” He sighed regretfully, stepping closer, revealing more of that hideous face. “A good player knows when the game is over and a gentleman knows how to lose graciously.” He looked at Alejandro, then Nathaniel. “And I am nothing if not a gentleman.” Quickly, his gaze touched Madison, Beverly,
Nick, and Tom. “I bow to you, the victors.” And he did bow. “Well played.” Jones tipped his hat, gave them a brilliant grin, and picked his briefcase up. “Perhaps our paths shall cross again.”

  “Be gone, demon,” said Nathaniel. “May you never lay eyes upon any of us again.”

  “You angels. Always so fatalistic.” Jones tipped him a wink. “You should never say never, my friend.” He turned and walked into the night.

  Madison heard the haunting tune he whistled and the tinkle of tiny bells as darkness swallowed him whole.

  A Blaze of Golden Glory

  Gremory Jones was gone and he’d taken the storm with him.

  Nathaniel, Alejandro, Madison, Nick, Beverly, and the padre stood, battle-scarred and silent.

  At last, Tom spoke. “Where will he go?”

  “Back to where he came from. And after that ...” Nathaniel’s smile was resigned. “Harvesting dreams is his trade, and there is no shortage of dreams in this world. Where he will travel, none of us can predict.” He stared into the empty dark where Jones had stood moments ago.

  Nick watched the seven-foot angel, still wrestling with the new reality of his world. “So … it’s not over?”

  “For us, it is over.” Nathaniel’s broad chest expanded as he breathed deeply and sighed. “But for humanity … it is never over.”

  Nick thought of the town, the bodies, the ruin. What will become of the infected?

  Reading his mind, Nathaniel said, “The Greed - the virus of corruption - will leave with the Dream Reaper. Your town and its people will return to what they once were.”

  “Thank heaven.” Beverly was beside Nick, close, and it seemed to him that she’d belonged there all along. She touched his hand and he took it in his own. It was a perfect fit.

  He glanced at Alejandro, who had his arm tight around Madison and they, too, fit perfectly together.

  Nathaniel looked at each of them in turn. “What you saw tonight … it must never be told.”

  “The Vatican wouldn’t believe it.” The padre looked tired, humbled … a little older and a lot wiser.

  “Ditto the police force,” said Nick.

  “My lips are sealed,” Beverly added.

  Nathaniel moved to Alejandro and embraced him. “I will miss you, brother.”

  “I will miss you, too.” Alejandro hugged him back, hard. “Will I see you again?”

  “Eventually, yes.”

  Nick saw tears glitter in Nathaniel’s golden eyes. They slipped freely as he touched Madison’s cheek with his finger. “I know how much you love my brother. I can feel it when I look at you.”

  “I do love him.” Madison held Nathaniel’s gaze. “More than I can say.” She seemed to have a new wisdom about her.

  Nick looked at Beverly, saw the same, and tried to identify it: It wasn’t in the demeanor exactly, perhaps just deeper understanding that shone through the eyes. We’ll never be the same after tonight, none of us. How could we be?

  Nathaniel stepped toward Tom, put a hand on his shoulder. “You did well. Your faith is profound. And quite terrifying.” He smiled. “I’m glad you’re on my side, Father.”

  Tom nodded. “I’m glad I could help.”

  Nathaniel moved to Nick and Beverly, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “And you, Beverly, take good care of Nicholas.”

  She reddened. “I, uh … I will.”

  Nathaniel gave her a knowing smile. It embarrassed Nick. “And you, Nicholas. Always believe. Always.”

  “I don’t think I have much choice at this point.” But already, Nick was trying to rationalize the things he’d seen. But he was failing.

  “It is easy to forget how to believe.”

  “Just no more hauntings, okay?” Nick realized he was going to miss Nathaniel’s presence around the house, terrifying though it had been.

  “I shall haunt you no longer.” Nathaniel pulled Nick into a hug. It was like being crushed in a car compactor - but it was nice, too. “Goodbye, all of you.”

  Nathaniel took a deep breath, turned his face skyward, and brought his arms out like a man relishing freedom after long imprisonment. And maybe that’s what it is, Nick thought. Maybe the human body is a cage for the soul and, one day, freedom will come for all of us. Nick had never been philosophical and was taken aback by his own thoughts.

  Nathaniel gave him a smile - a smile that said he’d read Nick’s mind. Again. “Always believe.” There was a great golden light that glittered fiercely, beautifully, around Nathaniel, then exploded in a sunburst of color. The ground grumbled, just a little, and overhead, clouds broke revealing silver stars. Then, like a comet, the golden light - and Nathaniel - shot into the sky and disappeared.

  * * *

  “What the-?” Shawn Barzetti didn’t trust his eyes.

  Beside him in the Octopus car - which was suspended at its highest point - Bobby Beckstead stared at the sky, watching the impossible. “That was ... epic.”

  There was no other word for the shooting streak of gold that had been a tall man with gleaming wings just moments before. “It really was epic.”

  “What the fuck is going on around here?” Absently, Bobby popped a Pucker-Button into his mouth.

  Shawn thought back on the past days - they seemed like a dream now … or rather, a nightmare. He vaguely remembered seeing Roxie’s Diner explode - vaguely recalled setting off the bomb. Did we really do that? He couldn’t be sure. They’d done some messed up shit in their day, but it was one thing to take a leak on the merry-go-round and quite another to kill people. “I don’t know. I can’t really ... remember.”

  “Me neither.”

  Shawn felt anxious. “I think we need to get out of this town.”

  Bobby moved closer. “Agreed, dude. We’re electricians! We can get work anywhere, right?”

  “Right.”

  They stared over the lip of the car, watching as the cop and all his friends left the amusement park.

  Six Months Later

  The smallish crowd broke into applause as Tom presented Nick with a blue chip.

  “Six months of sobriety, Bullet.” Tom wrapped him in a bear hug. “Keep coming back.”

  Bright red and beaming, Nick made his way to his seat, where Beverly waited, her pride apparent.

  Alejandro, seeing the kiss she planted on Nick, turned to Madison and put his lips on hers.

  It wasn’t their first kiss - not by a long shot - but for Madison, it always felt like it.

  “Congratulations, Nick.” Madison patted his shoulder.

  Nick twisted in his seat and faced them. “Thanks for coming.”

  “Congratulations to you.” Alejandro held his hand out for a proper handshake. The hand patting had been a stubborn habit to break, but he was learning.

  Becoming human hadn’t changed him much, and for that, Madison was glad. He still guzzled honey, still had a lot of questions about the world around him and, as evidenced by the bright purple and silver polka dot “Aunt Vanessa” sweater Nick had given him, he still had a penchant for bright shiny things.

  After Dette’s death, he’d begun working at the rock shop with Madison, which helped his social skills. He enjoyed being with the public now that the media had moved on from the Disrobed Daredevil. And the public still loved him - though in a much tamer way.

  As for Nick and Beverly, Madison thought they were perfect for each other. They’d grown close after the fair - they’d all grown close - and Madison was happy to see them both in love.

  For the first time, I have real friends in Prominence. She smiled.

  Last weekend, Tom had read them the first chapter of a book he was writing about the Sierras. After some long and wonderful conversations with Madison, Tom wanted to continue her father’s work, writing about the places Christopher O’Riley had never gotten the chance to. The book was off to a fine start, and Madison knew her father would approve.

  Tom had buried the silver necklace at St. John’s as Nathaniel had requested, and si
nce Gremory Jones had left Prominence, life had been so ... normal. There’d been plenty of funerals, but the corruption - the “Greed,” as Nathaniel had called it - had vanished. Indeed, the lives of the townspeople were returning to normal.

  Except for one.

  Madison thought of Rebecca McNair, who’d been tried and found guilty of manslaughter in the case of Howard Blackburn. It didn’t seem fair. Evelyn Vang fled after the disaster and the surviving members of Rosemary Hess’ herd all testified that it had been self-defense.

  Madison doubted that was true and so did Nick, but given the influence she’d been under, Rebecca deserved her freedom - and Nick had been working doggedly to get it back for her.

  Prominence itself had become the sleepy little town it used to be. Tourists were flocking again, not because of the dark times, but because the spring wildflowers were in full bloom, carpeting the desert with yuccas standing tall above them like candles, their massive blooms seeming to glow at twilight. It was a banner year for wildflowers - on account of the floods - and O’Riley’s Rocks and the other businesses were profiting from Mother Nature’s exuberant displays. Madison glanced at Alejandro, wondering if the land’s prosperity had less to do with floods and more to do with having an angel in town.

  To her, Alejandro was still an angel; he always would be. She pulled out her phone, opened her Life Lessons, and typed, Always patch your roof in the rain.

  Epilogue

  “Rebecca McNair?”

  She looked up. “That’s me.”

  “It’s your lucky day.” The female guard slid a chunky key into the lock, and slid the door open.

  Rebecca stepped out of her cell. “Thank you.”

  As she followed the guard down the long hall, Rebecca floated in a fog of unreality. Her memories of the days before her incarceration were muddled, a hazy blur. She’d killed Howard Blackburn with a straight razor - she knew because people had told her she’d done it - but it didn’t feel true. On the advice of her lawyer, she’d admitted it and claimed self-defense, but in truth … she just didn’t know.