“Ouch!” Gage hollered, giving his shoulder a rub. He was breathing heavily; the wind was knocked out of him, but only slightly.
“Good to see all those shoulder raises you did are finally paying off for something other than the ladies,” said the voice he heard in the darkness, now much clearer and totally recognizable.
Gage let out a beastly groan as he stood, stumbling a few times before propping up against the trunk. He took a few more breaths, enjoying the smell of pine trees around him. On the last breath, he turned.
“Well that just goes to show ya, I can see the goddamn future,” Gage replied with a beaming smile. “Though I gotta say: I never would have foreseen this happening… Dad.”
For sure, Gage wasn't hallucinating. Charles Crosse was standing in front of him amidst the forest. The hood of his tattered robes was down, showing off his long and disheveled silver hair, while his face was looking a far more scarred than Gage remembered. However, after seeing Death wearing his look before giving him the weapon, Gage had a few doubts.
He noticed that his dad looked a little uncomfortable, growing red in the face.
“Son,” he said. “As proud a dad as I am seeing your massive manhood catching the breeze, do you think we can pop it behind some clothes before we carry on?”
Gage raised an eyebrow then looked down. He was completely naked to the world, not a scrap of fabric anywhere on him. Something soft hit his chest a second later and he caught it. It was another set of robes, some of his dad’s, which he managed to put on in record time.
Charles laughed seeing Gage’s cheeks so red. He started to move in for a hug, but Gage stepped back, fastening the robe closed before holding up his hand.
“Whoa there,” he said, “not so fast. I appreciate the clothes and all, but how do I know you're the real deal and not some freaky monster lookin’ for kicks?”
The clouds above them churned. It was ominous, like a monstrous storm, yet there was no rain or strong winds.
Charles held out his withered hands and took a step back, his head slightly lowered.
“That happen often with you, son?” he asked. “I’d be cautious too. Can’t say that I blame you, though. I'd be doing exactly the same thing if our roles were reversed. A lot of things in the worlds aren't what they appear to be.”
“Apt words,” Gage agreed. “Especially when dealin’ with this particular monster. But seriously, I trust ya; I just need assurances that you’re really him.”
Charles bobbed his head while letting out a long exhale.
“Alrighty then, ask me anything.”
Gage searched through his memory and after a few minutes had a question, asking, “What were the words ya told me when we last saw each other?”
Charles hobbled over to a nearby stump – by far not the man Gage had seen sprinting down the hill with Adrienne during her rescue – and sat down. Flinging back his robe he kicked out his left leg, scratching at a shiny scar across the shin. It had healed messily.
“Damn thing itches like a motherfucker,” Charles said before clearing his throat. “Well way back when, before your mother and I met our fate at the hands of the demon Camio, I seem to recall a brash young man without a single tattoo or care in the world setting off to live life on the road as a trucker. I told you to be very careful out there, mainly because things and people are never what they seem to be at first glance – always filled with agendas of their own – and that you would always have a place to call home back in Denver with your mother and I.”
Gage was visibly stricken by the comments, breaking his seriousness with a wobbly smile. Those were his dad’s words alright.
“Now, if we’re going to go by the last written thing I said to you, it would be from that damn letter I left in the cellar. Thing made me tear up pretty badly while writing that thing, by the way. It’s something I never told your mother and she doesn’t need to know. But I digress; the last thing I said in that letter was for you not to fret, since your mother and I weren't going down without a fight. I told you that we both love you and that we always have and always will.”
By this stage Gage was restraining a sob, already making his way over to the stump.
“Let’s see now, the actual last time that I saw you was when we were outside that Peruvian gate between here and Earth. We had rescued your lady, Adrienne I think her name was, and I handed off that little toy truck of yours. My feet could find that thing in the deepest carpet or tallest grass it seemed. Before I was… taken… I told you that your mother did well to get you as far as she did and that once again…”
“I love you,” Gage finished, reaching over to give his dad the biggest damn bear hug anyone had ever received.
They stood there embracing for a while, both subtly sobbing beneath the cover of their robes.
Gage pulled away, his eyes shiny with tears.
“D-dad,” he sputtered. “How did I end up here in the Astral Plane?”
“I wish I knew why,” Charles said, using his robe to wipe his runny nose. He stared deep into his son’s green eyes. “Though I am so glad you’re here son, you really shouldn’t be. Gah! The more that I think I understand how all of this works, the more I realize that I know nothing at all.”
“Isn’t that life, though?” Gage asked. “I seem to recall ya saying that it keeps ya humble.”
“Yes, and of course I told you that!” Charles snipped. “When one realizes there is always something that they don’t know, it does keep you humble! However, being humble isn’t going to get your ass back home, is it? So fuck what your dad said about that for now.”
Gage chuckled, watching his dad go into deep thought, summoning his staff out of thin air for some extra support as he stood.
“When Adrienne was brought here, I thought that it had to deal with the Seal of Solomon and your need for it, which her essence locked onto and was drawn in the Astral Plane. Of course with it, we were able to contact you and bridge the gap between the worlds.”
“Yeah, I recall,” said Gage woefully, thinking not only of Ady but of his lack of a similar method of escape. “We can’t use the same way to get out since that route is closed off from us.”
“Right,” Charles agreed, “it was the Seal that was able to make the connection and form the vortex, allowing…”
He saw something shimmering between a set of nearby trees, like air does above pavement on a blistering summer’s day. He pushed ahead of Gage, who turned with concern on his face.
“Stay behind me Gage,” Charles said as he held the staff aloft, ready to summon a shield if the need arose.
“What is that?” Gage asked.
“I don’t know,” Charles replied. “In all my time here I have never seen anything like –”
There was a loud boom and the area filled with an intense white light. Charles wasted no time and tapped his staff against the ground. An azure shield surrounded Gage and himself, humming as it appeared.
“Who are you?” Charles demanded, seeing a shape moving within the brightness. It was oddly brighter than the surroundings. “What do you want?”
The voice that replied was intense, the words rippling their bodies.
“Do not fear,” it said, “for I am not the enemy.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Gage mockingly. “How about ya turn off the light show then, let us see what ya look like then?”
As requested, the area instantly returned to normal, except for the blue light coming off Charles’ shield. Standing not ten feet away from the edge of the spell was a large man dressed in an expensive suit. Gage didn’t recognize him at all, but based on the set of six wings stretching out from his body, he damn well knew what he was.
“T-thanks for listening,” said Gage, a bit flabbergasted. This was his first time ever seeing an angel. Up until now, even though he’d been fighting demons nonstop for months, he didn’t really think angels existed.
“My pleasure, Gage Crosse,” the angel replied, taking a slight bow. He made
sure not to bend over too far in order to avoid ripping his suit. As he righted himself, those wings disappeared with a sound like thousands of flapping birds.
“That’s a big guy,” Charles whispered back toward Gage. “His vessel must like to work out like you.”
Gage ignored the fact that the angel was bigger than he was by quite a lot.
“W-what do we call ya?” he asked courteously, not wanting to get punched, or worse.
“Azrael will suffice,” the angel replied, iced eyes looking at the both of them. “There is no need for the barrier. I mean you no harm.”
Charles didn’t hesitate, dispelling the shield and resuming his lean on the staff. Gage stepped toward Azrael, still looking him over judiciously.
“Ya may want to think about scaling up those threads,” Gage told him.
“Yes!” Azrael replied, already loosening his tie. “I just haven’t had the time, all things considered – looking over things as the apocalypse heads Earth’s way.”
“Maybe afterwards then,” Gage said, “I’ll go with ya.”
“Let’s hope that is possible.”
“Definitely so.”
So it was that the three of them moved back toward the stump, allowing Charles to sit for a bit. Azrael spoke at length with them both, telling what he knew about Death and his plans, including the new information and concerns that his sister Kahli had expressed. Likewise, with nothing more to lose since he was already dead, Gage recounted his own meetings with Death both in the physical plane and in what he learned was the dreamscape. All the men ended up more confused now than they were before, unable to ascertain why Death had singled out Gage for all those years, nor if there was any validity to Kahli’s concerns.
“If there is an ulterior motive, then both it and you Gage are tied together,” Azrael said.
“That’s not very reassuring,” Gage responded, swiping both hands through his hair.
“Neither is the Grim Reaper’s interest in you, son,” said Charles with a high level of parental concern. “We’re not just talking since the Noctis kicked up at the end of 2015. We’re talking years before any of that.”
“Right,” Azrael stated, “yet despite that, I cannot shed the thinking that the simplest answer is the correct one. That is: Death discovered Gage to be one that could wield his weapon after the accident with the child and subsequently kept him going in order to end the threat of an apocalypse, by whatever force happened to try and open the door to Hell. For us, that is Dajjal.”
“I suppose you could be right,” Charles conceded, “but there’s still the curveball of the Grim Reaper giving the blade to Dajjal. That seems like the complete opposite thing to do – kicking off the apocalypse versus stopping it.”
“That bugs me too,” Gage said.
“All I can think of to explain that is that Death was weighing the cosmic balance, making sure the approach of using Gage was the right one. We have to take some sort of action based on what we know,” Azrael advocated, “because Dajjal is not going to wait while we debate this ad nauseam in your Council or in the Chorus.”
Gage and Charles couldn’t disagree.
“So what next,” Gage asked, “assuming we’re helping Death out with this?”
“We have to get you out of here for certain,” Azrael stated. “I am sure that you are the only one that can wield the blade successfully against Dajjal.”
“How do we do that?” asked Charles.
“I could take Gage out of here myself,” Azrael answered, “but there is no body for him to go back to. Because of that, we will have to let Death take care of it. He can rebuild your body so you’re able to reside in the physical realm.
“N-no b-body left?” Charles shuddered, thinking of his son’s pain.
Azrael nodded and Gage knew it was true.
“Okay,” Gage agreed. “I’ll wait for Death to show up and rebuild me so I can go back. But I tell ya Azrael, I am not gonna have my dad stay here all by himself. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I left him here in this horrible place.”
“I was waiting for you to say something,” Azrael said, smiling brightly as he turned. “I stopped home to find something for this very purpose.”
Holding out his hands, fingers and thumbs touching in the shape of a diamond, there was a soft hum followed an ethereal howl. In the center of the formation, a blue light shone and a moment later Azrael released his hands. A glowing diamond remained suspended in the air, which Azrael drove forward with the gentlest of blows from his lips. It floated out into the forest, growing ever wider and more energetic until it formed a rippling portal, not unlike the one Azrael arrived through. This time all the light was contained inside and beyond; a billowing figure in white stood at the threshold.
Charles gazed inside, squinting his eyes to get a better view. Slowly the light dimmed and there stood the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. So much so that he asked her to be his wife, and she accepted.
“Madeline…” Charles cried. “Honey, is that r-really you?”
She nodded, her voice unable to carry across the portal into the Astral Plane.
Charles’ eyes welled with tears and soon overflowed. He mustered the energy to rush to Gage, giving him a long and heartfelt hug.
“My boy, I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing you haven’t already, Dad. Now go, Mom’s not one to keep waiting.”
Charles smiled and turned to Azrael.
“I cannot thank you enough for this,” he said.
“There is no need for thanks,” Azrael replied. “You were always meant to be there – trust me if anyone were to know, it would be me. I feel the universe had other plans for you to fulfill and now that you have done so, your part has now ended. So Charles Crosse, go with haste to see your wife. Enjoy each other’s company once more, now and forever.”
Charles didn’t have to be told twice, dashing off with newfound strength to the portal. He looked through it at Madeline’s welcoming face and it was soft and beautiful just like the day they first met.
She mouthed ‘I love you’ and he did the same, stepping across into the light and at last, beyond.
JOEY WAS SNORING so loudly that it was a miracle anyone aboard the Odyssey could sleep, never mind the ship stay intact from the steady barrage of noise. It must have been the pillows that saved them all, no fewer than three stacked on each other, in which his head was sunk. His open mouth, shuddering with each intake of breath, also dribbled from its crooked corners. The remains of a sugary feast were strewn across the bed, hinting at how Joey was able to lure himself to sleep that night. Chocolate bars and far too many candy wrappers littered his new Pirates of Dark Water comforter, crackling noisily beneath his arms as he shifted positions to get more comfortable.
Earlier that same evening, it had been a completely different story. Memories of Marcus and visions of Gage once again ruthlessly assaulted him, flooding his thoughts all the while threatening to drown him. He prepared himself for a long and restless night, since the hour spent in the hall outside the engine room didn’t even make a dent in his woes.
When all ship-bound attempts at finding sleep failed, Joey ventured out into the city for a brief walk along Front Street. Marcus and Gage were still accompanying him and as much as he loved them both, he hoped the walk would free him of them, if only for a short time. Venturing southwest along the darkened street, he buttoned up his long coat as his breath fogged in the cold air. His soft skin, illuminated by what few streetlamps were actually on, lost all of its natural color while glowing oddly, making him look like a ghost as he wandered along the pavement alone.
Crossing Peck Slip, he continued on for a few more blocks until he arrived at Fletcher Street. There, he knew to turn left if he wanted to go toward the East River. There was a pier there that Marcus had brought him to once before for coffee and a quick snack. It was during the day, between one of the endless meetings they had, and Marcus hinted that the view at night was be
tter, even if it was from ground level. Sadly, the chance at seeing it together was never to be, but Joey decided that now would be a good time to take a look.
As he arrived, walking across the noisy wooden planks, he spotted a young couple down at the far end, enjoying the very same view but in each other’s company. Joey gave them a couple of quick glances – the place was empty otherwise – and to his surprise he was not envious, nor angry at the sight. He was happy for them and as he settled on one of the hard, modern benches, he actually smiled. The view was exactly as Marcus had promised, the Brooklyn Bridge spanning the river off in the distance beneath an ethereal sky lit by the city lights. It was exactly what Joey needed and at last he managed not to think of anything distracting, quiet for the longest time just staring in simple wonder.
Back on the Odyssey, the slumbering Joey stirred once again, knocking most of the wrappers to the floor in a heaping mess.
There was a flutter of warmth, and of light, Joey opening his eyes to find himself on the edge of a cliff wearing nothing but the sweatpants he had fallen asleep with. Beyond, high mountains rose beneath a watercolor sunrise and all around, painterly trees swayed in a gentle breeze.
“I can’t thank you enough for the view,” said a deep voice.
Joey snickered, turning around at once. Sure enough, there was the person he expected to see. He was dressed in the same outfit they had met in, complete with newsboy cap, pointing out toward the horizon.
“Well, I always knew that you liked views from high up,” he replied. “After all, you lived on an airship of all things. Marcus… I… it’s so good to see you, words can’t express how much, even if this is only a dream.”
“Well, there are other ways to express yourself,” Marcus replied with a grin, feeling Joey’s fingers as they made their way through his thick beard. “Like that for example. It feels pretty damn real to me.”
“Me too,” said Joey, also smiling softly, not wanting to let any of this go. His face softened, partly drooping into sadness. “M… I have to know why you did it.”
Running on Empty (Journeyman Book 6) Page 7
