Shadow Chaser

by Jerel Law

  “Elisha,” said David. “Hmmm.”

  “You guys want to explain what you’re talking about? Or am I just supposed to guess?” Jonah asked.

  “Elisha then was able to use Elijah’s cloak to perform a miracle,” Julia said, rubbing her arm. “There was power in it. My wound is better too, although I still can’t move my arm.”

  Jonah reached up gently to touch her elbow, but she pulled back, holding her arm with her other hand against her body. She was looking over at the empty pedestals.

  “Those creatures . . . ,” Julia finally said. “My father used to read us stories out of the book of Revelation. They were creepy. I remember one about the horsemen coming to overrun the earth. But their horses . . .”

  “They had the head of a lion and snakes for tails,” Eliza said, finishing her sentence.

  They stood in the room and caught their breath for a minute. Jonah thought through all of that and bowed his head in a quiet prayer of thanks. Without Elohim’s protection and the scarf, they would be in seriously bad shape. That thought sent a shiver of cold dread up his spine.

  But a larger question niggled at his brain, lingering. Why did they just leave? They had us where they wanted us. And why didn’t they hurt me?

  “Looks like you made it through all right, Jonah,” Eliza said, without a hint of a smile on her face. David and Julia turned toward him too, studying him up and down.

  “Yeah,” said Julia. “How did you end up being the only one unharmed?”

  “Guys, I don’t know,” Jonah started. “I didn’t mean to get you hurt.”

  “They’re right, you know,” David said. “We could have easily been killed. What were you thinking, out there on the sidewalk?”

  Jonah opened his mouth but shut it again. He didn’t have an answer.

  Eliza sighed loudly, looking at her bent glasses. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  They walked slowly out of the museum. Eliza could see from only one eye, and Julia’s arm wasn’t moving. David’s leg was a mess. He reluctantly let Jonah support him on his shoulder as he limped along.

  Jonah wished he could take all of their injuries on himself. But they were right. It was his fault they’d caught the attention of the Fallen, and for some crazy reason, he was the only one who made it out without a scratch.

  AN UNFORESEEN

  OPPORTUNITY

  A horse pulled the carriage along the cold, empty street beside Central Park, the wheels grating along the asphalt. The only other sound was that of the wind whipping through the trees, bringing a knife of cold air into the streets. There were no other carriages out tonight. The others had finished giving scenic rides to their last customers hours ago, deemed it too cold for more passengers, and gone home.

  The fallen angel waited on the corner as he had been told, watching the carriage move toward him. He didn’t know what to expect, only that he had been summoned in a hurry to the street corner, where he should await further orders.

  The carriage rolled to a stop beside him, driven by a tall, thin man in a black driver’s coat and top hat, holding the reins loosely and looking straight ahead, his face covered by shadow.

  “Get in.”

  The voice came from the passenger seat of the carriage. The fallen angel stepped up two small steps in and sat beside a man in a suit and tie. The man leaned forward enough that the streetlamp caught the side of his face as his eyes fixed on the new passenger.

  The fallen angel’s mouth dropped open. He had been told only where to meet. He hadn’t been notified that he would be speaking with Abaddon himself.

  “My lord!” he said, bowing his head as his hands began to tremble. “I . . . I didn’t know it would be you . . .”

  “Just sit down, shut up, and listen carefully,” Abaddon said, turning now to look out at the trees. The driver took them down a pathway in the park. “We’ve had an opportunity fall into our laps this evening, thanks to our quarterling friends. Specifically, their golden boy, Jonah Stone himself.”

  The fallen one nodded. He wanted to tell the Evil One that he had already received a report of the incident in Times Square, but he was afraid to open his mouth again.

  “It seems that he let his pride get the best of him,” Abaddon said, smiling for the first time. He began to chuckle, which made even the fallen angel smile nervously. “Nothing like a little old-fashioned sin to get you into trouble. It’s time to take advantage of his mistakes and make him pay. His friends are not too happy with him right now. Nor should they be . . . he almost got them killed.”

  They drove past a couple of overstuffed trash cans reeking of garbage yet to be emptied. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell, and continued.

  “I want you and your crew to do whatever you can to turn his friends and his family against him. Use this incident to make sure they are very angry with him. And make sure he knows he is totally, utterly alone. I want him to think that not even Elohim Himself can help him get his friends back.”

  The fallen angel nodded, working up the courage to finally talk. “If I may, my lord, what of Jonah himself? A well-placed arrow by one of my most talented men would certainly do—”

  Abaddon turned quickly, his face growing bony and grotesque, eyes blazing red, just inches from the underling’s face. “I told you what I want you to do! Do not, under any circumstances, deviate from my orders. Is that clear?”

  The fallen angel cringed, pushing himself back against the side of the carriage and looking down at his hands. “Yes, my master. Forgive me.”

  “Don’t worry about the boy,” Abaddon said, backing off, but clearly still annoyed. “I have someone specifically assigned to him and his family.”

  As he said those words, the driver turned to face them, grinning wickedly, his face suddenly morphing from a bearded human to only a greenish mist and fierce eyes.

  The fallen angel drew in a sharp breath, seeing for the first time who it was. The driver slapped the reins down, and the horse stopped.

  “Yes, sir! Consider it done, my master,” the fallen angel uttered, scrambling to get out of the carriage as fast as possible.

  “Very well, then,” Abaddon called out. “I hope that’s the case. For your sake.”

  He watched the carriage continue down the dark street and heard the laughter of two voices trail away through Central Park.

  EXAMS BEGIN

  The walk home was as quiet as it was slow. Eliza, David, and Julia were angry, and Jonah didn’t blame them. He knew better than to try to talk to them right now. They needed time to cool off. The priority now was getting them back to Camilla and the nuns, who hopefully could help them with their injuries.

  He was mad at himself too. Why had he decided to show off? He knew better than that. He’d almost gotten all of them killed.

  Camilla took one look at the three wounded quarterlings and ushered them into one of the small offices in the convent, where there were a couple of chairs and a cot. Marcus and Taryn emerged from the back door and into the hallway.

  “Get Samuel!” Camilla barked at Marcus. “And Bashir and Sister Patricia! Now!”

  She studied their wounds, then turned to Jonah with a cold gaze. “In a few minutes, you’re going to tell me everything, but right now, you’d better start praying.”

  He did as he was told, closing his eyes and offering prayers to Elohim for his friends. As his heart quieted and another wave of reality hit him, he had to blink back tears, especially as he prayed for Eliza’s vision to return.

  Soon, Pastor Bashir and Sister Patricia joined him in prayer, the tendrils of light from their prayers joining together in the hidden realm, pouring upward through the ceiling. Samuel was carefully studying their wounds, grave concern on his face.

  “No doubt this is the work of the Steeds of the Horsemen,” he said, standing up. “No human medicine will help. Their healing is in Elohim’s hands.”

  Camilla and Samuel joined the rest in prayer. After what felt like more than an hour, Camill
a said, “Amen,” and summoned the Angel School instructors into her office. Jonah walked out into the hallway behind them. He knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “I’m concerned that we are putting these kids in harm’s way by even having them here.” The distinct voice of Pastor Bashir rose above the others. “You all know that I am all about faith and risk, when necessary. But we need to make sure we are wise as well.”

  Another voice spoke, but it was softer, and Jonah couldn’t tell what was being said.

  “The animals certainly fit the description of those described in Revelation,” came Samuel’s higher-pitched tone. “They were certainly Steeds of the Horsemen, no doubt about it.”

  “Which means,” a strong voice interrupted—Jonah thought it was probably Marcus—“that we need to go after them now, before they do any more damage! If Abaddon is using those creatures to do his bidding, there’s no telling what else he’s planning to do with them.”

  “They were being foolish.” Taryn’s voice rose. “Jonah was showing off. If they hadn’t gone out, none of this would have happened.”

  “She’s right,” the weary voice of Camilla finally said. “They took a risk and almost paid a high price for it. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I will discuss this with them. Marcus, there is no need to go on a wild-goose chase. I’m sure Abaddon has the creatures far away by now. If he has something planned, he won’t want to risk us putting a stop to it. It was a blessing that Jonah had Abigail’s scarf, no doubt. In the meantime, no students are to leave the convent. Is that clear?”

  There were murmurs of approval, and Jonah quickly backed away from the door.

  The angels emerged, along with Pastor Bashir. Marcus glared at Jonah but passed by without a word, like the rest.

  “Jonah!” Camilla’s voice called. “A word, if you please.”

  After ten minutes of being reprimanded by the angel in her office, he wanted to run for the door. She threatened to call his parents, scolded him about putting the entire school in danger, and informed him that because of the incident, no one would be allowed to leave school property without heavy supervision from the angels.

  She dismissed him with a flick of her wrist. “That will be all.”

  That was fine with Jonah. He found David, Julia, and Eliza ambling down the hallway toward the stairs.

  “Thanks a lot, Jonah,” Eliza said. Since it was Eliza, Jonah wasn’t sure if she was more upset at the lack of vision in her eye or that he’d gotten them in big trouble with all of their instructors. She had never made a teacher mad at her in her entire life.

  “I’m sorry,” he said slowly, in almost a whisper.

  She turned back toward him, her features softening. Her mouth hung open for a few seconds as if she was thinking about saying something.

  Just then, Jonah heard a faint sound, almost a whisper, but not quite. He turned to Eliza’s left, where it seemed to come from, but saw nothing. Suddenly, Eliza’s mouth snapped shut, and she turned her back on Jonah again, continuing down the hall with Julia.

  Jonah stood in the hall for a few seconds, blinking. His gut told him something wasn’t right. Quickly, he prayed, entering the hidden realm.

  A flash of darkness shot out of the corner of his eye. Before he could see what it was—if it was anything—it was gone. Jonah ran down to the corner but only found an empty hallway.

  Jonah leaned his head on the wall, pressing his hands against it as he prayed again. He reentered the visible realm and watched as David followed Eliza and Julia, limping down the hall.

  “David,” Jonah called out. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

  David rubbed his leg and didn’t look back. “I’m sure you didn’t, Jonah. But still . . .”

  Jonah heard him clunk his way up the first flight of steps. Leaning back against the wall, he pressed his fingers against his temples for a few seconds. He was exhausted but didn’t feel like going to his room yet to face David. He wandered downstairs, made himself a cup of tea, and flung himself into an easy chair.

  Rupert, Ruth, and Carlo were studying quietly at a table in the corner and barely looked up at Jonah. The written portion of their exams was set for nine o’clock in the morning. And thanks to him, his friends were in no shape to study. They were going to be even angrier with him when they realized that. The feeling of being unprepared only made him sink lower into the chair. I’ll study, he told himself. But his head was throbbing again. I just need to close my eyes for a few seconds.

  When he opened his eyes, the other quarterlings were gone and sunlight was streaming through the few small windows near the ceiling. He groaned and closed his eyes again. If it wasn’t for midterms today . . .

  Midterms.

  Jonah sat up and looked at the clock on the wall. It couldn’t be.

  The clock read 8:56 a.m.

  “No, no, no!” he said, jumping up and running for the door.

  Frantically, he tried to remember everything he had studied the day before as he ran down the hallway. But his brain seemed to be moving in a hundred directions at once, and yet not heading anywhere. And his head was hurting. With each step he took, the pounding grew worse.

  He ran into the boys’ bathroom and splashed some water on his face.

  “Ow!”

  The water stung the boils, which had multiplied once again. With his hair sticking out in every direction, his eyes half-open, and the red splotches on his face and body, he shook his head in disgust.

  But there was no time to do anything about it now.

  He burst into the classroom across the hall just as Samuel was passing out the test to the quarterlings, all sitting at desks. Every head in the silent room whipped around to see who it was. Eliza looked him over for a few seconds, scowled, and turned back toward Samuel.

  Frederick raised his eyebrows. “Dude, you look like—”

  “I said complete silence is required for this test,” Samuel interrupted, glaring at him. “Now remember, class, there are different tests for the different age groups. The midterms are specifically designed for you.”

  Jonah slumped into a chair in the back, shielding his face from everyone for a minute as he tried to gather his thoughts. Samuel placed a thick stack of parchment paper in front of him. The cover page said:

  Midterm Examination

  Jonah Stone, Quarterling

  In spite of the fancy lettering and paper, it didn’t look that different from tests he had taken in school. He breathed in deeply, picked up the pencil on the desk, and began.

  Four hours later, mentally and physically exhausted, he set his pencil down. The only student who hadn’t finished yet was Eliza. Jonah figured she was probably going over it for the third or fourth time, just to make sure she got every answer right.

  Jonah, on the other hand, wasn’t sure he’d gotten anything correct. His head hurt, and as he stood up, he felt light-headed. He grabbed onto the back of the chair to steady himself.

  “Jonah, are you okay?” Samuel asked, stepping forward to take his test. “You look a little pale.”

  “I think so,” he said, trying to appear tough. But then he added, “I don’t know . . . my head is hurting. It’s probably just all the stress and excitement.”

  Samuel studied him carefully. “Perhaps. I imagine it would do you a great deal of good to get some fresh air.”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled as he headed for the door. “You’re probably right.”

  Jonah sighed loudly as he walked down the hallway alone. He felt as if he had struggled with every part of the test. Even the stuff he knew that he knew—like the order of the books of the Bible, the names of the twelve disciples, and the Egyptian plagues—didn’t come to him like it normally did.

  He trudged up the stairs, hoping he could get some sleep.

  “Jonah,” came a voice from above him in the stairwell.

  He spun his head upward, jumping a little more than he norm
ally would have.

  “Sorry to startle you,” the voice said. Nathaniel, the lieutenant colonel of the Second Battalion of the Angelic Forces of the West, stood above him on the steps, wearing his glittering silver armor.

  “Nathaniel,” Jonah said. “I was . . . I was just heading to my room to get some sleep. I had a long night. And then the midterms and everything . . .”

  “Your presence is requested,” he said, ignoring Jonah’s comment and glancing upward. “Upstairs.”

  ROOFTOP ENCOUNTER

  Jonah blinked. “Oh, okay. Do you need to talk to me about something?”

  “Not me,” he said. “My orders are to retrieve you and escort you to the roof. Someone is waiting to speak with you there. That’s all I can tell you. Now, if you will . . .”

  He motioned for Jonah to follow him.

  Jonah’s curiosity suddenly grew stronger than his desire to take some aspirin and get a nap. They arrived at the top level of the convent, and for the first time, he noticed a metal ladder on the wall in the stairwell. It led up toward a rusted trapdoor with a handle. Nathaniel grabbed the rung of the ladder, pulled himself upward until his feet could grab the bottom rung, and began to climb.

  “I guess this is how we get to the roof,” Jonah said softly. Soon he was pushing his way through the trapdoor. He wondered who needed to see him on the roof.

  The hinged steel door slammed down on the asphalt roof with a clang so loud that it made Jonah freeze. He looked around but couldn’t see anything except an air-conditioning unit right beside him and a short wall on the other side. Jonah stepped up onto the rooftop.

  “This way,” Nathaniel’s gruff voice called out to him.

  Jonah walked forward, looking all around. Even though the building was low, he was able to see several large skyscrapers towering in the not-too-far distance. He figured they were part of Rockefeller Center, which was several blocks north.