Transgression

by Brandy C. Ange

  Yellaina stood over in the corner, undressing in the dark. There were no corners left for Achaia to hide in, nor a way to get to one without passing one of the boys. Achaia closed her eyes and moved her hair all to one side, stepping at least around the headboard of the bed. Then grabbing the bottom seam of her own shirt, she pulled it up over her head.

  When she opened her eyes, Emile was hanging the rope, Noland was tending to the fire, and Olivier was making the top bunk of the bunk beds. Emile looked like he was having a hard time tying the knot.

  Achaia wrung her shirt out and took off her jeans with difficulty. She was glad no one was looking. She ungracefully hopped and tripped trying to pull her leg from the suction-cupped tight wet pants. Then she stood, not knowing what came next in a navy bra and bright orange underwear, so much for discrete….

  She stared down at her feet, feeling the blood rising in her cheeks. She wished she could melt between the wide set floorboards. She yanked and pulled at the blanket under Amelia, but to no avail. So, she squatted down behind the headboard and waited to see what they were all going to do next.

  Noland melted the snow and added a couple more logs to the now growing fire. Emile hung the rope across the room, in front of the fire, for the clothes to dry on.

  Liking his success after the fourth log Noland stood and turned around. Crouching, not altogether hidden, behind the log headboard of the bed to his left, the only person he could see lit by the fire, was Achaia. She was pale, the fire seemed to dance off her skin throughout the rest of the room. Her red hair hung in soaked ringlets over her shoulders, looking almost brown. It struck him how small she was.

  He watched as she folded her clothes over her arm and stood to bring them to the clothes line. Then, there was a sharp pain on the back of his head. His attention snapped back to, and he looked over to see Emile drawing back his hand. “Dude, what was that for?” Noland whispered.

  “Do you really want me to answer that?” Emile whispered back looking him dead in the eye.

  “It was a rhetorical question.” Noland said glancing quickly back over to Achaia to see if she had noticed the conversation. She hadn’t.

  Everyone came over then to hang their clothes on the rope except Amelia who was still passed out on the bed. Noland noticed Emile was shaking all over, looking overwhelmed.

  “Okay that’s it!” Emile yelled after a minute. “That is it!”

  Everyone froze and looked at him with shock and confusion written across their faces. Noland couldn’t help but laugh.

  He watched Emile walk over to the wall where the knot had been tied in the rope and untie it. The clothes all fell to the floor as he drug the rope across the room and tied it to the mantel piece above the fireplace. He then proceeded to walk over to the other side of the room to the second knot. He untied it and walked across the cabin to the wall farthest from the fire. Tying the rope to a deer head hung on the wall.

  “From now on this side of the room,” Emile yelled gesturing to the side with the bunk beds, “is Germany. This side,” he yelled pointing to the side with the larger bed, “is France. I’m building a blockade!”

  Everyone looked at him like he was crazy.

  “From now on, no one crosses the boarder. Not until everyone puts some clothes on! Girls get over there,” He said gesturing to France. “Noland go over there,” He said gesturing to Germany. “Way over there,” he added under his breath. “Germany, France,” he yelled again reminding everyone of their place.

  Noland ducked under the rope to stand in front of the bunk bed, where Olivier had perched himself on the top. Olivier smiled up over the clothes line at Achaia, “Night Frenchy.” He said mock-seductively, winking at her.

  “Frenchy?” Noland asked.

  “Nick name.” Olivier said.

  Noland watched Achaia blush, and rolled his eyes.

  Once the clothes were hung between the countries, no one could see anyone else as long as they were standing. They explored their respective sides of the cabin finding things like pots, pans, and blankets, but no food.

  Yellaina wrapped Amelia up in a thick blanket and Achaia and Noland made beds for themselves on the floor.

  It was a good thing they’d broken the lock to the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, it had been full of quilts, pretty well taken care of. The other boys each got one, and chose a bunk. Yellaina took two and crawled into bed next to Amelia.

  Testing out their beds on the floor, and getting down below clothes-line level, Noland and Achaia realized their beds were only about a foot away from each other. Noland chuckled a little to himself. “You better not snore.”

  Achaia looked mocked offended for about a second. “I don’t. But I know you do. I could hear you all the way down the hall last night.”

  “Ah,” Noland said holding up a finger. “That wasn’t me. That was Olivier.” Noland laughed.

  “What? No!” Olivier objected throwing a black clod of something at Noland’s head which splashed as it made contact– his dirty wet socks.

  Noland rubbed the back of his head where they had hit, and picked up the socks and threw them in the fire.

  “Dude!” Olivier yelled.

  “Have I taught you nothing?” Noland asked. “You never just throw your weapon at your opponent.”

  Emile rolled his eyes. “Everything is a lesson opportunity.”

  Wrapped in blankets sitting on their beds or floors, respectively, Yellaina, Achaia, Noland, Emile, and Olivier sat up to talk. “Life sure has gotten exciting since you guys entered the picture,” Achaia agreed as she laughed off a joke Olivier had made. They were each enjoying a bag of plane crackers for their dinner. Though the crackers weren’t much, they worked miracles on their aching stomachs.

  “Oh yeah,” Emile started, “we never actually explained our spiritual gifts to you.”

  “Right. How do they work?” Achaia asked chewing on her last cracker, sad there wasn’t more. She was still hungry. She tried to ignore the rumble in her stomach by focusing instead on Emile as he spoke.

  “Well everyone gets one,” he started.

  “Or more than one,” Yellaina added.

  “Right, or more than one. It’s something God gives you to help you fight. Something good for spiritual warfare. For some people it’s a physical skill, for others it’s not so much physical as it is mental or emotional. Some people’s gifts help them, and some were meant to help other people.” Emile tried to explain.

  “Okay. So, how do you know what it is? When do you get it?” Achaia asked.

  “Well, you’re born with it. I don’t know I guess you just figure it out eventually.” Olivier shrugged.

  “I don’t think I have one.” Achaia looked down feeling, yet again, left out. She couldn’t think of anything she was particularly good at; nothing she was better at than anyone else. She couldn’t think of anything weird or abnormal about herself, either. She was just an average girl. “Maybe since my mom was human, I don’t get one?”

  “Maybe you just haven’t been put in the right circumstances yet. You’ll figure it out. But you have one, for sure. You’re Nephilim.” Olivier assured her.

  “What’s yours?” She asked looking at Noland.

  “Oh great,” He sighed, “are we going to start playing one of those get to know you games? ‘Okay let’s go around the room and everyone say your name, your age, where you’re from, and your spiritual gift’.” Noland said with mock enthusiasm.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Naw,” he went on still chuckling a little. “I have two, the first one being fire. I can control it, create it, I am it. It burns in me. I think it’s the root of my second one, which is strength and endurance.” He knocked on the frame of the bunk bed to signal to Emile that he was next.

  “Okay, so mine might not be as macho…” Emile started.

  Olivier and Noland chuckled.

  “I’m empathetic. I feel other people’s emotions. I know what everyone is feeling. Which is why I hate
airports. Way too much going on. People coming, people going, people missing flights…way too much emotion in a place like that. Second worst place in the world, next to high school.”

  “So you know what I’m feeling… all the time?” Achaia asked blushing again.

  Emile nodded.

  “Oh great. Thanks for the heads up.”

  Emile smiled weakly and mischievously all at once before tapping the upper bunk with his fist.

  “Oh, my go?” Olivier asked looking down. “Yeah, I’m fast. I got speed.”

  “I kind of guessed yours.” Achaia laughed.

  “You’re telling me I blew my cover?” He mocked being shocked and appalled.

  “You always moved so fast at your locker.”

  “Yeah, I struggle with restraint.” He smiled, then gestured to Yellaina that it was her turn.

  “Okay right, and you know mine. Linguistics. I can speak every language, spoken or otherwise,” She said signing everything she was saying.

  “Interpretative dance?” Achaia asked jokingly.

  Noland snorted. “Please explain that to me, it’s a mystery.”

  Yellaina laughed. “I wish I could!”

  “Now that one would be handy!” Achaia laughed. “Actually, they all sound handy.” Achaia observed looking around the room at all of them.

  “That’s kind of the point. But, not all of them are a blessing.” Yellaina said sounding mournful.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not every gift is given for the benefit of the one who possesses it. In fact, some are more like curses.” Yellaina explained.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Amelia.” Noland interjected.

  “She feels other people’s pain. Physical pain.” Emile went on, “We’re twins. I got the emotional side, she got the physical side. She feels other people’s pain. Only hers isn’t for everyone. Her gift is based upon how much she cares about the person. When she feels their pain, they may bleed, but she suffers.”

  “Which is why you were all fine after the crash. She felt it for you. Because — she loves you.” Achaia realized now that though they were all bumped and bruised none of them were so much as even limping. She put her hand to her side under the blanket and felt a whelp forming on her rib. Amelia didn’t know her. She couldn’t have felt her pain. After bringing her attention to it, her rib grew sore. “That’s awful.” Achaia pressed on her bruised side and felt the ache. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to feel that much more pain for four other people in addition to her own. No wonder she hadn’t woken up yet.

  “Well hey, I think that’s enough talk for one night.” Yellaina said yawning.

  “She’s right, we have to hunt tomorrow to try and find some real food. All we have are plane crackers for breakfast.” Noland added lying down on his mound of quilts. “We’re going to be here a while. This storm isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

  Everyone chanted goodnight and laid down in their beds. Achaia laid down with her back to Noland, trying to avoid awkward eye contact. He however didn’t seem fazed by the idea and laid down facing her.

  Achaia woke up in the middle of the night shivering. The fire had burned down and was a mere flicker of a flame. She curled in on herself trying to warm up against her own body heat, but even her arms and legs were cold to the touch. She could feel the draft coming in from the gaps between the floorboards.

  Half-awake, half-asleep, she felt her covers yanked from where she had tucked them under her. The air that rushed in was freezing. She shook even more violently. The floor creaked the tiniest bit as Noland moved across it. He tossed his blanket over hers and slid in behind her. She stiffened in surprise, but his body was warm, really warm. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck, his mouth resting gently on her bare shoulder. Her entire body warmed in seconds. She shivered a little more and sighed as she fell back asleep.

  8

  Into the Wood

  “Meet me at midnight

  In the forest

  Of my dreams.

  We’ll make a fire

  And count the stars

  That shimmer

  Above the trees.”

  -Christy Ann Martine

  Achaia woke up to the wind howling and hissing while it was still dark outside. She felt as if she’d been asleep for hours; her body, well rested, warm and grateful.

  Opening her eyes, she saw a muscular forearm draped over her waist. She jerked awake, startled. The arm flinched squeezing her tighter for a moment before pulling away from her.

  “Are you okay?” Noland whispered in her ear.

  “What —Why…?” Achaia was speechless.

  “I’m sorry.” Noland took his arm away from her and quickly backed away. “I woke up and you were shivering. You were so cold — your lips were blue and I…”

  “No, it’s okay. I just…” Achaia stopped whispering and rolled over to face him.

  His eyes were bright despite the darkness of the room. She found it hard to look directly at him. It was like looking into the sun. She wanted to touch him. His skin was so warm. He was so beautiful.

  Woah! It’s just early, she thought. She tried to shake the thoughts out of her head. “I just…” Her eyes flicked up to where Emile lay sleeping.

  “Right. I got it.” He whispered pulling farther away from her back to his makeshift bed on the floor. “Germany and France, right?” He smiled.

  “Thank you.” She mouthed silently, smiling, before rolling back over and trying to fall back asleep. She missed his warmth. She was already shivering again.

  Noland lay awake for a while watching Achaia breathe. It was a few long minutes before her breathing settled, telling him that she was asleep. Finally, he sighed and rolled over to fall back asleep himself.

  Why did he feel like this? Whatever this was? It wasn’t a knowing… but it was a liking. This wasn’t supposed to happen to Nephilim. Especially not when the girl was potentially set aside for your best friend. “Stupid!” Noland let out in a frustrated yet nearly silent whisper. Gripping his face in his hands. It’s a good thing Emile is asleep, he thought to himself. If he felt him beating himself up so much there was no telling what he’d say.

  “She’s not mine.” Emile whispered looking down on him from the bottom bunk.

  “Dude!” Noland said in a loud whisper, jumping up into a sitting position. “Warn a guy before you do something like that. Jeez!”

  “I’m sorry dude, but that feeling is awful and I want it gone. It woke me up.” Emile said looking down on him with pity. “As far as I know, she’s not mine.”

  “But the two of you are…”

  “She’s been on an emotional roller coaster. She needed some calming down. I needed some calming down. It comes with the territory. She might be mine, but as far as I know, she’s not. Stop worrying about it. Just let it play out. Now go back to sleep. We haven’t slept enough in the last couple days.” Emile sounded concerned but grumpy.

  Even when the guy was downright pissed he couldn’t be inconsiderate. When he was mean to someone else, it was like being mean to himself. He still felt the pain. He actually had to treat others the way he wanted to be treated. That made him one of Noland’s favorite people.

  “Okay, I’m sorry.” Noland said jokingly, then laid back down and closed his eyes.

  Naphtali stood in a room of clouds, facing a man who was not quite his equal in stature. Where Naphtali was tall and dark, and possessed of brute strength, the man before him was fair and slight of build. However his ferocity was of wit. “Why will not you tell me of Shael ben Yahweh’s whereabouts? You must, of course, possess the knowledge, you who possess nearly all knowledge.”

  “Flattery will not suit you here Naphtali. Do I not know your motives? That you would seek to save the traitor!” Tabbris was rigid. “He chose his fate, and sealed it with his own will.”

  “His will was broken. He had just lost his wife!” Naphtali could no
longer hide his frustration. He couldn’t find a single soul in Heaven willing to help him.

  “He spurned Heaven itself!” Tabbris spat.

  “What would you have done if Amorriah was ripped from you?” Naphtali asked.

  Tabbris fell silent. It appeared he had never once taken the time to view the situation from Shael’s point of view.

  “Shael’s heart was broken open, and the darkness creeped into the void. Do not even the purest of hearts struggle to spurn shadows?” Naphtali’s voice was soft. “Shael may have rejected redemption through penance, but not justice. Where is your mercy? Are you not amongst those closest to the Lord’s heart? Shael’s time has not yet come. Will you not help me establish justice, and remind Satan of his place, that the Lord, not he, is ruler still?”

  Tabbris stepped back, humbled and silent. He looked unsure for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was uneven. “You seek to beguile me with manipulation.”

  Naphtali sighed. “Not at all brother. I would have you see truth. I would have you cease to view life itself through a narrow lens!” Naphtali knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing.

  Tabbris’ face hardened. “You think you know better than I!” His face shook in anger. “That you are privy to knowledge that I possess not?”

  “Perhaps only that of pride, and its pitfalls.” Naphtali said, knowing he would not get the help he had hoped for. “Rest assured, I will find Shael. I will discover how to reach him, and I will pluck him from Hell itself. And when that feat is accomplished, it will have been without any aid from you. And in the books of life, there will be no mention of you in the telling of it.”

  “You would enter Hell for that traitor?” Tabbris asked, completely at a loss for comprehension.

  “Yes. Because I call him friend.” Naphtali said. With that, he released his wings, and departed into the clouds.