by Ching, G. P.
“What if there isn’t anyone left here?” he pressed. “I can hardly remember what a decent human looks like.”
God sighed. “This gift must multiply a characteristic that is already in the heart. If I force generosity, I am no better than a Watcher influencing a human. Free will works both ways.”
With a disenchanted grumble, Gabriel repositioned the pie tin and leaned back against the building. Thousands of people had passed them since they began this campaign to find a generous heart. They’d been kicked, spat on, pummeled with garbage, but no one, not one person had offered them anything but this advice: Get off your asses and allow a Harrington mark on your hand. They’re hiring down the street.
Frustrated with the lack of compassion, Gabriel tugged his coat tighter around him. He was less convinced than God that there was anyone left in the city worth saving. In fact, he’d lost a good dose of faith in humanity over the last two days. The Soulkeepers were all but starving in their under-church safe house. The Wicked Brethren now worked for Lucifer, and Damien had wasted no time taking control of most of the businesses in town, if not directly then indirectly by pressuring the owners. Finding anyone to stand up for what was right wasn’t going to be easy, especially considering that doing so meant they might never eat again.
Slush sprayed across the sidewalk as the car parked in front of them pulled into traffic. As Gabriel glared through the window at the departing driver, a young man on a bike took the open parking spot. Dressed in jeans and a shiny blue down coat, the young rider looked directly at Gabriel as he adjusted his bike helmet, an expression of unadulterated empathy warming his chilled expression.
Blink, blink. A surprised Gabriel lowered his sunglasses. The young man’s dark eyes darted to God and then back to Gabriel. Shaking his head, he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the delivery cart attached to the back of his bike. With both gloved hands, he retrieved a large package wrapped in brown paper, then locked the cart again. He waited.
Gabriel wasn’t sure if he should do something, maybe say hello or smile, but since God hadn’t reacted to the young man’s presence, neither did Gabriel. A moment later, another man arrived with a hot dog cart. The cart owner parked and opened his umbrella.
The bicycle man walked to the vendor and handed the package to the other man, who quickly but smoothly transferred it inside the cart. In exchange, the vendor provided the first man with an identical package that gave off a subtle fog like hot breath against cold air. The men exchanged words.
A queue had formed behind the bicyclist, men and women who pulled off their gloves in preparation to show their marks. But Gabriel noticed the vendor did not remove his gloves. Nor did the bicycle deliveryman. No one in line seemed to question this because of the extreme cold and the vendor’s more permanent station on the sidewalk, but Gabriel did. Especially when the vendor wrapped three steaming hotdogs in brown paper and rested them on top of the deliveryman’s box. No money exchanged hands. No gloves were removed.
While the vendor began doling out hot dogs to the waiting customers, the young man returned to his bike and rested the large package and the three hot dogs on the curb. He unlocked his cart and put the large package inside. Then he approached Gabriel.
Gabriel stiffened as the man neared. Could this be it? Could this be the one they were waiting for? Two of the hot dogs landed in the tin. Gabriel almost cheered.
“You gotta keep movin’, you two. You stay in one place too long, and they find you.”
“You have a kind and generous heart,” God said, tilting his face up. He removed his glove and offered his right hand.
Entranced, the young man accepted, whispering, “You better keep those gloves on. There are only a few of us left. We’ve got to be careful.”
“Generosity is more contagious than you might think,” God said. “Perhaps all you need to expand your operation is a leader.”
Gabriel watched the coupled hands glow slightly, and the man’s dark eyes light up from within. With his free hand, God reached into his coat and presented the young man with a copy of Tom Sawyer, an original by the looks of it. The illumination of their touch passed to the book. The man blinked rapidly and released God’s hand to accept the gift.
“Listen, uh, we will be at Randolph and Franklin tomorrow, same time. The carts always move. Never the same place twice. I’m sorry, but I can’t guarantee anything beyond that. My brother and I need to stay ahead of the law.”
“From now on, you will display a sign—the book I’ve given you and others like it. The book will be the symbol of your secret society.”
The man laughed, running his palm over the cover of the book. “We don’t have a secret society. It’s just us. Two brothers who don’t want to be owned.”
“Not anymore,” God said. A warm breeze originated from God and spiraled around the man, who inhaled deeply, staring at the book as if he were seeing it for the first time.
It was done. The fourth gift had been given.
In a fog, the young man returned to his bike, blending into the edge of traffic.
“The gift is given, Gabriel. See that the Soulkeepers get the message.”
* * * * *
Jacob’s stomach growled, loud enough to garner Malini’s attention. She veered closer on the busy sidewalk, rubbing her mittens together.
“The cereal wasn’t enough for you?” she asked.
“Uh, no. A bowl of Fruity Pebbles is not dinner. I’m starving,” Jacob whispered.
“I know,” she said sadly.
The box of cereal and some milk was all Ghost could carry, and every time Father Raymond drove him around, he took a chance of getting caught. He was thankful for what little they had, he really was, but it was taking its toll. Everything was harder. He’d lost weight and felt tired all the time.
“It’s almost over. Help is coming,” Malini said from behind her scarf and dark glasses. She’d been visiting the In Between for any sign of impending relief.
“But you don’t know how or when.”
“No.” She shrugged. “Please refrain from quaking in the presence of my awesome power.”
Jacob laughed as they turned the corner toward Grant Park. Lillian was their third tonight. She’d circled a few blocks over in an effort to lure Watchers into the open.
“That’s strange,” Malini said.
Jacob followed her line of sight. A sophisticated woman in a white peacoat and heeled black boots sat on a park bench reading Tom Sawyer. “What’s so strange about that?”
“It’s four degrees out, Jacob. Kind of cold for reading outdoors.”
“I guess.”
“And why Tom Sawyer? It’s not exactly a popular book these days. I haven’t even found a bookstore open since the Watcher invasion.”
“Huh.” Jacob looked right then left. “Uh, Malini?”
She was still staring at the book. He grabbed her chin and turned her face toward a vendor’s cart at the end of the block.
“That guy is glowing,” she said.
“Yeah. Like an angel.” Jacob walked toward the cart, his gloved hand automatically finding hers.
“Pizza,” Malini said wistfully.
He pulled her into line behind a man who already had his right glove off. His branded symbol shimmered in the moonlight, the black worm she’d heard about causing his skin to ripple.
“What are we doing?” Malini asked under her breath. While the angelic glow from the vendor did seem like a sign from God, this was dangerous. People who had sworn allegiance to the Devil surrounded them. Watchers around every corner might smell them and attack. Killing Watchers was their goal tonight, but since the fourth curse, they had to be careful not to draw human attention, too.
Jacob nodded toward the angelic glow behind the cart and shrugged. Hunger kept him in line, and Malini seemed resolved, as well.
“Should we try to bring some back?” he whispered.
“Too dangerous.”
By the time they reached th
e cart, Jacob’s mouth was watering so much he couldn’t speak. Luckily, Malini could. “Two slices of supreme please.” She held out a twenty.
The man glanced down at the money in her gloved hand and paused. Jacob prepared himself to run. Had he imagined the glow? A trick of the moonlight by a hopeful and starving mind?
The vendor nodded and reached into his cart. “Good to see you two again.” He grasped the money from her hand and handed each of them a gigantic slice. “Don’t forget to visit us in the future at the locations listed on the napkins.” He handed them each a generic paper square as blank as it was brown.
Greedily, Jacob snatched the plate, while Malini nodded and accepted her change. Wrapping his gloved hand around the greasy slice, he raised the pizza to his lips. The cheese burned the roof of his mouth as he scarfed down a bite, but he couldn’t stop. Hunger drove him to swallow chunks without even chewing, the spicy sauce staining the skin around his mouth. When he’d eaten enough to remember she was there, he glanced at Malini and noticed she was doing the same.
“I feel so guilty,” she said around a mouthful. “The others must be starving. But I can’t stop. I’m so hungry.”
“Maybe they can get their own.” Jacob glanced back to see the vendor’s glow leach from his body and disappear into the streetlight above him. “I think the vendor was possessed.”
“By an angel,” Malini said. “You couldn’t smell him?”
“I smelled Heaven, but I thought it was the pizza.”
She nodded, chewing. “We have to find a way to bring more to Sanctuary.”
“What was that about the list of locations on the napkin? Mine is blank.”
“I have a theory about that. Come. There are too many people here.” She led him deep into the park, off the path, and inside a cluster of evergreen trees. “I used this once with Abigail. Blessed ink. Only appears with help from one of us.” She handed him the empty plate and removed the mitten from her left hand, her healing hand. Gripping the napkin, her power flowed into the paper in veins of pale yellow that bled out through the fibers, wet paint sinking into canvas. When the spreading blotch reached the corners, words appeared on the napkin, addresses. The title of the list read, The Tom Sawyer Society.
“Are all of these people working together?”
Malini’s grin shone in the moonlight. “I think so. Jacob, this is the fourth gift. This is what we’ve been waiting for. The people who have refused Lucifer’s mark are organizing. They are subverting Lucifer’s power.”
“You know that from a list of names and addresses on a napkin?”
“Tom Sawyer, Jacob.”
He stared at her blankly.
“You never read it?” she whispered.
He shook his head.
“Tom Sawyer is all about rebellion. It’s about understanding that society and the people in power can be wrong. Over the course of the book, Tom goes from a spoiled boy to one who stands up for his friends at his own personal expense. The Tom Sawyer Society is doing the same thing. They are standing up for their right to their soul and refusing popular opinion that Harrington’s way is the only way.”
“That’s good news.”
“Do you know what this means?” She grabbed his face and kissed him, lips coming away saucy. She wiped her face on her sleeve and laughed. “Everyone is going to eat tonight.”
The corners of his lips lifted but never successfully accomplished a full smile. A wretched moan from the other side of the tree grabbed his attention. Jacob covered Malini with his body and moved her deeper into the branches. Through the gaps between limbs, he saw a Watcher pulling its victim into the park. The human was still alive, her head bouncing against the frozen grass.
“Time to get started on that quota,” Jacob whispered. He reached for the flask on his ankle while Malini tucked the mitten she was holding and the napkin in her pocket. Side by side, they silently jogged along the tree line, the snow barely dusting in their wake. The Watcher paused, leaning down to cup the weeping woman’s neck and pull her limp, wasted body toward his teeth. Her hair was already matted with blood, and she was so thin, Jacob was sure she couldn’t survive if she lost much more. Maybe the thing had tortured her before tonight. She already looked like a corpse.
“Now,” Malini said.
With practiced execution, Jacob bolted directly at the Watcher, raising his sword. As expected, the thing dissolved into a ripple of darkness. Also, as expected, Malini was there, circling to the back of the beast while it was distracted with Jacob’s attack. Her hand caught the middle of the ripple, wrenching it from shadow and slamming the smoking black flesh to the snow. Jacob leapt to avoid the victim as his sword swept downward. The snakelike face had a moment to register terror before its head was detached from its body. Malini released her grip on its chest and buried her burnt hand in the snow next to the bubbling black remains.
“Good job.” Jacob wiped his boots on clean snow and channeled the sword back into his flask.
“Jacob?” a weak voice cracked. “Malini?”
He turned toward the victim, whose raspy voice came from a heap of skin and bones curled on its side in the snow. When he approached her, he tried to help her up, but she was too weak. He ended up kneeling in the snow with her cradled in his arms.
“Do I know you?”
Dull green eyes met his.
“You don’t recognize me anymore?”
His heart turned to lead and sunk into his stomach. “Katrina?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, Jacob,” she rasped. “About everything.” She closed her eyes and went limp in his arms.
“Malini, I need your help.”
Chapter 11
Sanctuary
Jacob had his doubts Katrina would live. He’d only seen one other person look as far gone as she did, and that was Dane, the day he floated into Eden after his time in Hell. She was a skeleton, hunched and gray, hair thin and dirty.
“Cord, hold her up and give her healing energy,” Malini ordered. “Jacob, you feed her this.” Malini handed him some soup they’d obtained from the Tom Sawyer Society after calling off the night’s patrol.
“It only works if I can touch her skin,” Cord said.
Malini unzipped Katrina’s jacket, covering her nose at the smell of body odor that escaped as she removed it. The sleeves got caught on her gloves, and Malini reached down to remove them. She paused, holding Katrina’s right hand.
“What if—?” Jacob started.
Malini shook her head. She yanked off the glove. An audible sigh of relief filled the room as everyone saw Katrina’s skin was unmarked.
Cord adjusted Katrina in his arms, causing her head to loll to one side. A soft glow radiated from the angel, through the exposed skin of Katrina’s back, lighting her torso from within. Her eyes fluttered. Jacob raised the spoon to her lips.
“Keep it up. We need her conscious.”
“Malini, perhaps we should gather a team to go obtain more supplies from the Tom Sawyer Society,” Lillian said.
Grace, who was bouncing Hope on her hip, nodded. “Everyone is starving. We must go sooner or later.”
“Perfect,” Malini said. “I’ll go too. It’s almost dawn, and there will be too much for one team to carry. You can’t call attention to yourselves. Wake Father Raymond. He can take one team and the others can go on foot. Leave Hope here with Dane.”
Malini glanced over to the bed, where Dane snored peacefully.
Grace nodded.
A few moments later, Sanctuary was bustling with Soulkeepers readying themselves for the mission, and then the room emptied. The quiet left behind was almost deafening.
Jacob spooned another helping into Katrina’s mouth.
She woke with a start, took one look at Cord, and screamed.
The angel broke apart, leaving Jacob to catch her falling head. “Relax. Katrina, chill. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“I thought I saw … Cord. Oh my God, am I hallucinating?”
“Uh…” Jacob sat her up, propping pillows behind her back on the bed they’d made for her. He spooned another bite of soup and brought it to her lips. She opened her mouth like a baby bird. “Where have you been, Katrina?”
A deep breath rattled in her chest, fighting against whatever muck had taken root in her lungs and sending her into a fit of coughing. Jacob backed off a little, hoping to avoid the germs.
“When I left home at Christmas, I went back to school. My roommate didn’t want to let me back in my dorm, but it was paid up for the year. I lived on Elysium until they stopped giving it away a few weeks ago.”
She paused, suddenly intent on her soup. She lifted it from Jacob’s hands and spooned in another bite.
“Then what?” he asked.
“I had a friend who also relied on Elysium. He suggested we go to where Elysium was made to try to find a clinic or something to get our medicine. So we came to the city.” She paused again, her face going stony as if she were blocking out some unwanted memory.
“And then what?” Jacob prompted.
“I’d rather not talk about how I survived until now.” She finished the soup and set the empty bowl on the table. “Earlier this week they changed the rules, and you had to get that brand thing on your hand to buy any Elysium. I swear to God, Jacob, that was my wake-up call. I didn’t mean for it to get this bad. I didn’t.” A tear navigated the corner of her eye and worked its way down her cheek.
Jacob ran a hand through his too-long hair. “I’m glad you didn’t get Lucifer’s mark.”
“They tell you before you get it,” she said, voice breaking.
“Tell you what?”
“At city hall. I went all the way to the chair. You sit down in this plastic chair with the built-in desk, the type they have at the DMV, and this man comes in and says, ‘Katrina Laudner, do you commit your soul to Milton Blake and all of his aliases for eternity?’ What type of corporation asks you to commit your soul for eternity?”
