by Mary May
“So, what happened before I got back there today?”
Sloan shrugged slightly. “Not much really. I had been looking around when I saw Jazzy go into a room with three other people. I followed them only to find out the room led to an underground tunnel. It goes for miles under the city.” Sloan paused to give Jaxon a grim look. “The tunnels are everywhere and they go everywhere. It looks like an anthill. They go to every hospital and every police station, and firehouse. Churches, too, they have the city completely mapped out under there.”
“What do you think they are using the tunnels for, as a way to travel the city undetected, or for something else?”
“I saw all kinds of people coming and going from these places.” He stopped again, giving Jaxon a look that made dread roll up in her belly.
“What?” she asked. Knowing it wasn’t good, she rubbed her forehead. “Just tell me, please.”
“How well do you know Rawlings?” Sloan asked.
“Rawlings? About as well as anyone knows him, I suppose. I have worked for him for six years ever since I joined the force. I know he is married and has two grown daughters. He attends church every Sunday and has always been straight with me.” Jaxon walked over to her bedroom window, pulling back the dark blue curtains to look outside. She was stalling for time and Sloan knew that’s what she was doing. He wouldn’t tell her anything until she faced him. She took in the tree-lined street she lived on. For Detroit, it was a nice, peaceful neighborhood. Lots of families lived here raising kids and living their lives. Every day she would drive down this street and not think about anything, other than what criminal she had put away or had gotten away. Doing her job helped to keep these streets safe for her neighbors, but what did she really know about them? Not much. She kept to herself and they pretty much did the same. Somehow, she knew after hearing whatever it was Sloan was about to tell her, the chance to get to know her neighbors or the chance to do anything else that one might consider “normal” was going to be gone forever. Already her life had taken a sharp turn that she didn’t see coming. She felt his warm hand on her shoulder before he spoke.
“You know I understand that you are giving up a lot to help me. You asked me once why you. I gave you an answer but not all of it. We need your help, Jaxon. We need your help in this fight against evil. You have a fire in your soul that shines bright against any kind of injustice. The Lord created that within you. It’s your gift.”
Jaxon turned and looked up into his face. “My gift? Was my childhood a ‘gift’ as well? If so, then I wish I could return it because as gifts go it was pretty terrible.” Pushing past him she stood at her bedroom door unsure of where to go. She wanted to escape Sloan’s all-seeing gaze, but she had nowhere to run.
“Your childhood was unpleasant; I know and I’m sorry. Unfortunately, not all children live an ideal childhood,” he replied softly.
Jaxon shook her head. “That’s an enormous understatement, Sloan.”
“Listen, do you think this is how he wanted this world to be? This wasn’t his idea of perfect, not even close. But it was the result of giving mankind free will. He could have created another heaven on earth and filled it with people that blindly followed him without thought or question, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to be loved by people who wanted to love him. But with that freedom came the down side of being able to make bad choices. So, which do want, Jaxon? Your free will or a perfect world, because you can’t have both.”
Jaxon stared at Sloan with eyes wide in surprise. She had never thought about it like that before. Ok, to be honest she didn’t think of it much at all, but never in the context of what Sloan had just blasted her with.
“I’m sorry… I never thought of it like that. I guess I thought the world could be better if he wanted it to be better. But you’re right -- we caused the world to be the way it is.” Taking a deep breath, she held up her hands. “Ok, so how can I help?”
“First I need to tell you about Rawlings.” Sloan walked over and sat down in the chair in the corner of the room.
“Do you think that they are ok in there?” Jaxon opened her door and peeked out.
“Yes, they are fine. I told Jazzy to watch him,” Sloan assured her.
“Why do you trust Jazzy so much all of a sudden? Aren’t they on the same team?”
“No, not exactly. Jazzy is a sweet kid with a rebellious streak. Zero is pretty much rotten to the core. He has some deep issues that one day will be his downfall if they are not addressed. But for now, they are both still in the living room.”
“And you know this, how?” When he raised his brow, she nodded. “Oh… another angel trick, huh?”
Sloan chuckled. “Yeah, it is,” he sighed as he leaned back in the chair. The pose was deceptive; while he looked relaxed, Jaxon knew he was capable of being out that chair and across the room faster than she could blink. The look he was giving her made the pit of her stomach start churning.
“Just tell me.”
“Let’s just say that Rawlings wouldn’t be nearly as surprised as you think he would be if we brought Zero in and explained everything.”
“You saw him?”
“He was one of three people that were with Jazzy. He is most definitely in on this. There is no other explanation.”
“No. No… I can’t believe that he would be a part of murders or dealing drugs. You have to be mistaken,” Jaxon insisted, even as the memory of Higgins growling at Rawlings just a few hours ago rose up in her mind.
“I know what I saw, Jaxon, and I understand that…”
Throwing a pillow hard at his face, Jaxon’s hands shook as she spoke. “No! You don’t understand anything! Rawlings is the closest thing to a father figure that I have ever known! He helped me bury my grandmother and helped me to go to the academy. He goes to church every Sunday, for crying out loud! There is no way…no way… he is involved in this.”
Sloan sat there holding the thrown pillow in his hands, watching her. He didn’t say anything; he just let her absorb what he had told her. After a minute or two she sat down on the edge of her bed.
“Are you positive that he wasn’t there undercover perhaps? Are you positive that there really is no other explanation?”
Lifting his head, he looked at her gravely. “I’m sure.”
Twenty minutes later Jaxon was back in her living room watching as Sloan questioned Zero some more about what he knew. For someone who was supposedly such a bad boy, he really was kind of whiny. Glancing over at Jazzy, she smiled at the girl who had stayed very quiet.
“Honey, where do you live? Where are your parents?” she asked.
“I don’t have any parents. They died when I was seven,” she said with little emotion.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Who were they?”
Sloan glanced up from questioning Zero. “Go ahead, Jazzy, tell her what you told me.”
Without lifting her head, she told Jaxon her story.
“My dad was a bishop at Saint Catherine’s Church. Because he was a high -ranking bishop, we had housing provided for us there on the grounds of the church. Unlike now, the church itself was always left open so people could come and pray whenever they liked. The house that we lived in was nice but there was no air-conditioning. On really hot nights I would sneak out and sleep in the sanctuary of the church. It had concrete floors and was always cool inside. I had my favorite spot where I would sleep. It was in the choir loft high up in the back of the church. No one ever came up there at night so I knew I wouldn’t be caught.
“One night the sound of loud angry voices woke me up. I recognized my dad’s voice, so I scooted on my belly until I could look out between the rails of the loft. There were four men and my dad down in the sanctuary, and they were arguing about something. I couldn’t understand all they were saying because a couple of the men spoke in a different language. But from what I could understand, they were angry with my dad about not doing something. He kept saying that he was sorry and that he would do it, but
the other men just got more and more angry with him. One of them pulled a gun and shot my dad.”
Jaxon’s eyes found Sloan’s across the room. He nodded slightly, clearly thinking the same thing that she was.
“You said you couldn’t understand all of what they were saying. Could you understand some of it?”
“Yes, from what I could understand, they were upset at my dad for not doing something. He kept pleading with them to just wait and let him find another way, but they kept shaking their heads and getting angrier. Finally I guess they realized my dad wasn’t going to do what they wanted and they shot him.” Jazzy stopped to wipe the tears from her eyes before she continued. “The sound of gunshots must have woke up my mother because she came running into the sanctuary. The man turned and shot her, too. I lost everyone that night.”
Jaxon got up and walked over to the chair where the young girl was sitting. Dropping to her knees, she placed her arms around Jazzy’s thin shoulders.
“I’m so sorry, Jazzy. That’s something no child should ever have to witness. Did they catch the killers?”
“No. I was able to identify one of the men from a mug shot, but they were afraid to use me as a witness against him. The police said that the men didn’t know about me and to keep me safe they needed to keep my existence quiet.” Jazzy looked up at Jaxon and Sloan. “I didn’t question that too much when it happened because I was so young, but now it doesn’t seem right. Don’t they put people into protective custody when something like this happens?”
Sloan nodded. “Yes, that’s how it usually works. I don’t know the details of your case so perhaps they had a valid reason for not using you as a witness.” He paused as he gave Jaxon a direct look. “I promise we will find out more about it. If the men are still out there, then they need to be brought to justice.”
Jaxon gave the girl a reassuring smile. “That’s right. I’m sure that there was a good reason for not using you. Where did you live afterwards? Did you have more family?”
“I moved in with my Aunt Sharon, my mother’s sister. It’s ok there, I guess. They didn’t have to take me, but they did. I know they try to make me happy.”
“But it’s hard to be happy after seeing what you did, isn’t it? I bet that’s the reason you turned to life on the streets. Am I right?”
Jazzy shrugged at Jaxon’s question. Jaxon squeezed her hand gently. “It’s ok, kiddo. That’s enough for today.”
A loud knock on the door brought Jaxon to her feet, reaching for her sidearm. Sloan placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Relax, that’s the help I was telling you about earlier. His name is Rocko. I will let him in.”
Zero snorted from his chair in the kitchen. “What kind of name is Rocko?”
Jaxon leveled a look at the young man. “That’s funny coming from someone who calls himself Zero. I know your mother didn’t name you that. What’s your real name?”
A sneer crossed the boy’s face as he shook his head. “Right, like I’m going to tell you that.”
“You don’t have to tell us. I already know who you are. Craig Alex Morgan, born December 15th, 1999. To an Emory and Sonya Morgan in Delbourne, New Hampshire. You have three tattoos -- one is on your left arm of a green dragon, one on your right shoulder of four Aces and another on your left calf of your street name. You also have three scars. Two are on your left arm from a bicycle accident when you were nine and the other is on your backside from sticking your behind to a coal heater on a dare when you were thirteen. You have a tendency to have trouble with allergies in the springtime and you don’t have a driver’s license because you can’t pass the written exam. Would you care for me to continue, because the rest of what I have on you might be a little embarrassing?”
All of this came from the dark-haired giant that now stood in Jaxon’s living room. Swinging her head around, she spotted Sloan grinning at her from behind the wall of solid muscle.
“Jaxon, I would like for you to meet my best friend Rocko. Rocko, this is Jaxon Malone and Jazzy, and you have already met Zero.”
Jaxon felt her mouth try to hang open at the size of Sloan’s friend. Sloan was a big dude himself, but Rocko made him look like an underdeveloped schoolboy.
“Hi, umm…I guess Sloan filled you in on our situation?” she asked while trying not to gape.
“Yes, he did and I’m more than happy to help in any way that I can.” Rocko looked over at Jazzy who was staring up at him with eyes as round as saucers. He smiled at her as he approached. Dropping to one knee so he wouldn’t be as intimidating, he reached behind her left ear and pulled out a yellow daisy.
“A pretty flower for a pretty girl. I know I’m big and ugly but I’m really a teddy bear. So, don’t be scared of me, ok? I’m here to protect you.”
Jazzy blushed as she took the flower. “You are big, but you’re not ugly at all.”
Rocko gave her a dazzling smile. “Yeah? You don’t think so? Well, thanks! Blondie over there always called me ugly. So, I might have a slight complex about it.”
Rocko glanced over at Sloan with a pitiful expression on his face. Sloan rolled his eyes as he watched his friend charm the young girl. The friendly charming expression was quickly replaced by a stone-cold stare when he approached Zero.
“Just so you understand, I’m not here to protect you. I’m here to make sure that you stay wherever Miss Jaxon tells you to stay, understand?”
Zero nodded as his face slowly lost its color.
A few minutes later the three adults gathered on the front porch. They had made sure that Zero was secured in the spare bedroom. She didn’t think they would have any problems with him. Rocko had put the fear of God in him…literally. Jaxon knew without being told that Rocko was another angel. Rarely do men grow as large as he was. She also knew without being told that it wasn’t something to be discussed. There was only one burning question in her mind.
“Rawlings is covering up the murder of Jazzy’s father, isn’t he?”
Sloan didn’t look surprised that she had put the two together so quickly. “Yes, I believe so. I think that he is covering up a lot of what goes on here.”
Jaxon studied him for a long moment. “That’s also the reason why you are needed on the force, isn’t it? To uncover what is going on?” When Sloan nodded, she blew out a deep breath as she slumped against the porch railing, filling them both in on her suspicion about Rawlings and the Wallace boy.
“This is going to get very ugly, isn’t it?” she asked.
Sloan didn’t bother answering. He didn’t have to.
The next morning Jaxon walked into her kitchen to find a pot of coffee already made and Rocko standing at the counter. Looking beyond him, she saw Jazzy still sound asleep on a pallet she had made her in the living room floor. Sloan wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
“Morning, did you sleep well?” Rocko asked with a smile.
Reaching for the biggest mug she had, Jaxon nodded as she yawned behind her hand. “Yes, as well as I ever do anymore,” she admitted. Sitting down at the table she studied the man before her. As intimidating as Sloan could be, Rocko was more so. She was grateful that he wasn’t the one chosen to be her… what was Sloan to her? He wasn’t her guardian angel, and he wasn’t really her partner either.
“He is your Mor-Reh or teacher. He is to teach you how to help us protect the human race.”
Jaxon blinked when she realized that Rocko had answered her questions without her voicing them.
“Can you read my mind?” she asked with a suspicious look.
The giant at her counter laughed softly. “No, I don’t have to. Your face is like an open book. You may want to work on that.”
“How can I help it? This is all so far outside of anything that I can possibly understand.”
Pulling a chair out at the table, he took a seat across from her. “What has Sloan told you?”
Briefly Jaxon told Rocko what she knew. When she finished, he nodded.
“The battle has been go
ing on for ages. It will continue until the Almighty decrees that it is finished. No one knows when that will be, not even us. What we try to do is keep the balance in check. When evil grows too quickly in one area, we are sent to dispatch it. Sometimes where the darkness is the most dangerous we will enlist help from special people. People such as yourself.”
“Why am I so special? Sloan said something to the same effect, but I still don’t understand.”
“Jaxon, you are a born warrior. The Creator instilled in you the burning desire to curb evil. You may call it a sense of justice, but what it really is, is righteous fury.”
Jaxon arched a brow at his comment. “There is nothing righteous about me. I don’t even attend church on a regular basis, or at all really. At least not since I was a teenager.”
Rocko looked at her intently before touching her chest just over her heart. His touch made her chest tingle and burn. “There was a seed planted; we had to give it time to grow. You are special, Jaxon. You are one of the few that He placed that seed into.”
The sound of nails clicking on the hardwood floor announced that Higgins had awakened as well. The dog placed his head on her lap, begging for attention. Jaxon ran her fingers over his head, letting his soft ears slip through her fingers. She got up and poured some kibble into a large mixing bowl. She guessed she needed to actually buy some pet supplies if she was going to have a pet. Once she was seated at the table, she looked over at Rocko.
“You know that he is special, too, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, the Creator placed a special spark in him as well. He was placed here for you. He will assist you with detecting evil spirits.”
“You know this might have been easier to accept if I was at least asked about all of this before my world was flipped upside down,” she grumbled.
