Evolution of Angels

by Nathan Wall

  * * *

  Jarrod wandered through the crowd, silently pushing through the horde as he searched for Claire. He looked at the clock on the street corner to his left. It read ten-thirty. He was where he needed to be and it wasn't like Claire to be late. His mind naturally started racing through a million possibilities. None of them good.

  He leaned against the clock and tilted his head back, looking up to the sky. A set of fingers brushed along the back of his arm. He turned on a dime and stood motionless, gazing at Claire. After a few seconds, she leapt into his arms.

  He lifted her from the ground, spinning her around and set her down. Their cheeks pressed together. A smile overcame him as he stepped back to take a good look at her.

  Her dark-as-ever straight hair was scrunched up just the way he liked it. A royal blue plastic headband held her soft, flowing hair back. A similar colored cardigan was draped over her shoulders and back and flowed halfway down her forearms. Her cream and sunflower-yellow sundress hung below her knees, matching her white sneakers.

  “You've gotten bigger,” she said, rubbing his arms, shoulders, and chest. She tilted her head back and looked him over in an exaggerated fashion. “I guess I can't complain too much about the results.”

  “Well, it's not like I needed to join the Army to get buff,” he laughed.

  “But you did anyway.” She put her hands to her hips and rolled her eyes. “I guess you thought you had too much of a good thing.”

  “No, that was never the case.” He shook his head, moving toward her to give her another hug, but she stepped back and pushed him away with one hand. His eyebrows lowered and his forehead wrinkled up. “What's wrong?”

  “I may be happy to see you, but I'm still pissed as all get-out.” She shook her head, biting her lip. “I haven’t gotten a letter from you in months. I had to call you just to hear your voice. You have some little Afghan floozy on the side?”

  “Oh my God, really?” he laughed, rubbing the back of his head. “I was kind of busy fighting a war.”

  “Uh huh and leaving your home base open for enemy invasion,” she pointed at herself and smiled, smirking with her eyes, “if you catch my drift.”

  “Say what?” Jarrod's jaw dropped and his face went white.

  “I'm kidding,” she laughed, pinching him and slapping his arms. “But I'm still mad. I could hit you in the face or kiss it.”

  “I like door number two better.”

  “I bet you would.” She grabbed his hand and started walking through the slow growing crowd. “Come buy me a bunch of useless crap that I'll never use as a form of punishment, and maybe I'll give you a peck.”

  “How about a full-blown frencher?” He tugged her back, spinning her, and pressed his lips against hers. Her hands slid through his hair as she pressed her body against his and bit his lower lip. He pulled back. “That hurt.”

  “Sorry, I lost myself.” She smirked, looking him up and down. “Come along.”

  “Hey, Jarrod. Welcome back,” the voice of an elderly man called out.

  “Great to see you’re well.” Another voice entered the fray. “You're a true American hero.”

  Large numbers of people walked along, patting Jarrod on the back, calling out to him and congratulating him on fighting for their freedom. Claire kept pressing forward and he tried his best to not look rude as he moved through a crowd that largely came to wish him well.

  Jarrod and Claire made it to a side street away from the crowds and ran down the road as fast as they could, laughing aloud. They made it to another street corner with the town park on the other end of the street. Jarrod noticed a large blanket draped over an unfamiliar-looking shape.

  “What's that?” he asked, tilting his head to the right.

  “It's a surprise.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his back. “You'll have to wait and see.”

  “I wanna see now,” he chuckled, stepping into the street. She tugged him back and he stumbled over the curb, working to regain his balance.

  “You were always the most impatient person.” She rolled her eyes.

  “I wouldn't say so.” He put his thumb and index finger to her chin and lifted her face. He leaned into her, once again giving her a deep, passionate kiss. Their lips unlocked and her face blushed. “For you, I'm forever patient.”

  “You know how I feel about it.” She tried her hardest to hold back a smile, batting her eyelashes at him. Just as quickly as a smile was plastered over her face, it vanished, and her eyes welled up. “But I need that special someone.”

  “You've been waiting for me all this time.” Jarrod frowned, puzzled. “I thought I was your special someone? You’re mine.”

  “I didn't mean special to me, Jarrod. You are. I meant more along the lines of THAT special someone.” She nodded, running her hand down his chest. “But you chose a different life over me. Noble or not. A promise or not. Whatever the reasons were, it was over me… And that's hard to live with. And I know one day you'll try and make your way back to me for good, but...”

  “But what?”

  “What if you don't?” She looked past him, wandering to the side of an electronics store. Jarrod followed her, his eyes briefly looking at the coverage of the Moscow incident which had been playing nonstop on news stations for the past three weeks, and then back at her. She pressed her back to the wall, sighing. “I know this home visit isn't forever. You're time commitment isn't up and soon you'll be back on your way, leaving me again. What if this visit is your last?”

  “It won't be...”

  “I'm yours as long as you'll have me, but I have more to lose in all this.” She shook her head, turning away from him. “You've got all the control in this situation. This is my way of controlling what little I can because once I give who I am to someone, I don't want it given back to me in a pine box.”

  “If you think that sex makes up all of who you are, then you're wrong.” He gently tugged at her arm. “If there's one thing I've learned since leaving, it's that you should always appreciate who you are and not what you think you should be. It's a hard lesson to learn when you realize what you've had to go through and uncover in order to grasp it. I'm sorry. I am.”

  “But our decisions aren't our own anymore.” She slowly looked up into his eyes, gently gnawing her tongue and taking a deep breath.

  “I held up my promise,” he said, leaning against the wall next to her. “Austin is alive and well. It's time he and I confront the monsters of our memories and move on. I'm not going back.”

  “You can't control that...”

  “Yes, I can,” he said, smiling and trying his best to explain a situation he didn't want her to become fully aware of. “I'm done with it all. I've gotten my dismissal. And even though I've finally made my way back to you, understand that I'll continue to be patient.”

  “Why don't you let me control your meat suit for a while?” Charon laughed, sliding up behind Claire. Jarrod's jaw went tight when Charon's hand slid over her breasts. “To feel the succulent touch of a woman once more. I can show her how a true man can work it. She won't have to deal with an inexperienced little boy.”

  Jarrod closed his eyes and then opened them again. Charon was gone. His face started to sweat. His hands shook as a tingling sensation shot up his left arm. A wretched pain in his chest burned, bringing him to his knees.

  “Jarrod, baby,” she said, grabbing onto him. “What's wrong?”

  “I'm fine.” He grimaced, looking away from her as his eyes started to glow. His fingers stumbled around his inner coat pocket, searching for his sunglasses. He pulled them out and slid them over his face. “I need to rest. Can we go somewhere?”

  “Sure. I'll take you back to Aunt Liv's,” she said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

  “No,” he yelled, shaking his head. He pulled his keys out of his jean pocket and handed them to her. They slowly stumbled to his car and he sat in the backseat, pressing in on his temples and lying down. “Just somewhere out of the way.
”

  * * *

  Sanderson reclined with his feet propped up, channel surfing. He looked for anything that wasn't the constant, mindless drivel about Moscow or the latest escapade that they weren't a part of in London.

  He thought about what happened in London. Was it connected to Moscow? To him? To the Double-Helix? Or was it something else entirely? Could it be they left a doorway open to the other realms when they finished the battle in Moscow? Was something far more sinister lurking in the shadows? His curiosity got the better of him and he switched back to a news station.

  “Not that again,” Sarah said, bringing him a sandwich. She walked into the living room and sat on the couch adjacent to him. “There's really only so much I can take. The news never changes.”

  “You mean to tell me you haven’t given it any thought about what else is out there?” He glanced at her and put the toasty sandwich in his mouth. “We can't hide away in this small town forever.”

  “Why not?” she asked, nibbling on her food. “It's worked well enough for the past eighteen years.”

  “You can't protect him from everything...”

  “Yes, I can,” she snapped back, throwing her food back onto her plate. “He made it back to me, William. Can't you see that?”

  “Jarrod's natural inclination isn't to be cooped up forever. What he is—”

  “—Who,” she said in a stern voice. “He's not a what.”

  “The universe will come looking for him.” Sanderson looked at her, leaning over to touch her hand. She pulled away and he sat back in his chair, annoyed. “It's only a matter of time before the people I work for realize we didn't die in Moscow and come looking. Or something else comes poking around.”

  “I've dealt with those things before,” she said, turning to face him. “I've made him the way he is... I've seen the things behind the wall which scared you all those years ago. I know I can hold them at bay and make him normal again.”

  “You think you made him this way?” Sanderson stood and moved around, kneeling in front of her. He grasped her hands and squeezed them tightly. “No, Sarah. You didn't do anything to him. He made you this way.”

  “What are you saying?” She pulled back, slipping her fingers out of his grasp. She stood and walked around the ottoman.

  “When you were unable to get pregnant, the doses I gave to you in order to make your body more conducive for his conception... those are what gave you your abilities. You didn't transfer them to him.” He stood, rubbing the back of his head and looked at her. “He was... he wasn't of us, Sarah. He wasn't supposed to ever exist beyond a lab. When you carried him, he enhanced you.”

  “I know all that.” She smirked, shaking her head. “What I'm referring to is the tsunami inside his mind that I've blocked for such a long time. I've done nothing but try and protect him from himself for all these years, so I actually became more of a warden to him than you were when he was younger.”

  “Now I'm confused.”

  “You were right to be afraid, William,” she said, sitting on the floor. “The voices and spirits which used to call out freely when he was a kid… I barricaded them. But I'm afraid that they're slowly chipping away at the wall, fighting their way out. And what happens if they do? I can't let him face it alone. What if he can't handle it?”

  “What if he can?” he asked. She looked up, pale. “What if they won't leave him alone until they're free?”

  “Not all of them want to just get out,” she said, shaking her head. “Some of them want to control him. To live as him.”

  “We can't just build those walls forever.”

  “Then what would you have us do?” She looked up, her nose running. “Lock him away again?”

  “No.” He knelt next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “We help him fight.”

  * * *

  Claire drove to the place in the woods where they used to hang out. The bend, they called it. She looked in the backseat. Jarrod still held tightly to his ribs. She stopped the car, quickly got out, and pulled him from the vehicle. He gently pushed her aside and stumbled around, crashing forward into a tree.

  “Jarrod, what’s going on?” Her voice cracked as her face turned red. She pulled at her hair and knelt down next to him, hesitantly placing her hand on his body. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “Tell her we're raping your brain,” Charon laughed, squatting over Jarrod and thrusting his crotch toward Jarrod's mouth. “Tell her when we're done with you, she’s next.”

  “Just leave me,” Jarrod groaned, rolling away from her. “Just go.”

  “No, I not leaving without you,” she said, rolling him onto his back. She pulled the sunglasses off his face and tossed them aside. She pressed her hands on his cheeks. “Open your eyes.”

  “No.”

  “Open them, damn it,” she pleaded.

  Jarrod opened his eyes and a solid blue beam shot out, casting everything around in the same bluish hue. He closed his eyes, covering his face with his left arm.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped, scurrying backwards on her back.

  “Not quite.” Argus laughed, lying next to her with his head resting on his left hand. “But I could be.”

  “Leave her out of this,” Jarrod yelled.

  “Who are you talking to?” she asked.

  “You're the one who got her involved, Jarrod, my boy.” Charon clapped sarcastically. “Of course, neither Argus nor I would be here if you didn't go and absorb souls you can't control.”

  “Jarrod, talk to me,” she said, hesitantly grabbing him.

  “Yes, Jarrod. Talk to her,” Charon cackled, plopping onto the ground and leaning up against a tree. “This would be a hoot.”

  “You're not you.” Jarrod shook his head, pushing himself off the ground. “You're not here and you don't talk like this. You're something else.”

  “No, we are here. We are a part of you now.” Argus pressed down on Jarrod's shoulders, shoving him into the dirt. “We're all one.”

  “The new trinity,” Charon howled. “As bad as you can be, I can be badder. I can do anything badder than you.”

  “Jarrod, I'm going to call for some help.” Claire stood and walked to the car to pull her phone out.

  “I wouldn't let her do that.” Charon tilted his head side to side and spoke in a musical tone. “Otherwise, I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

  “No, you won't,” Jarrod grunted.

  “Yes, I will.”

  Charon dug into Jarrod's head. A cold, jagged sensation tore through Jarrod's gut until finally he was lying on the ground, watching his body stand. To his left, Argus sat on the ground in awe.

  “You did it,” Argus gasped.

  Jarrod's body turned and looked down at him. The face morphed into Charon's and then back again as he walked over to Claire. He grabbed her hip, gently pulled her out of the car and pressed her against the door.

  “I was just messing with you,” he laughed, kissing her cheek.

  “Are you serious?” She slapped his arm. “That wasn't funny. How'd you do that thing with your eyes?”

  “Claire, that's not me.” Jarrod stood, but she didn't respond.

  “She can't hear you, Moron.” Argus grabbed Jarrod by the neck. He shifted into Minotaur form and lifted Jarrod off the ground. “It's time you and I had some real fun.”

  Jarrod punched Argus, but did little good. Argus tossed Jarrod, charged forward and rammed his shoulder into Jarrod. When the two got at a good distance from Jarrod's body, everything went black.

  They stood in an empty void where nothing echoed and sound couldn't escape. Jarrod slowly pushed himself up and it felt like he was walking on air. Argus looked around in a panic.

  “Where are we?” Argus screamed. “What is this place?”

  “I don't know.” Jarrod shook his head.

  Argus slammed a haymaker down on Jarrod’s face. He kicked Jarrod in the gut, sending him flying through the black void. Jarrod crashed into a larg
e stone wall and tumbled to the ground.

  He recognized the wall. It was in a dream of his. It was the last remaining section left standing after a siege on a city. He remembered a boy he would try and rescue from a burning building.

  Argus lumbered forward and towered over Jarrod. He picked Jarrod up and slammed him repeatedly into the wall. Small cracks in the wall formed and white light seeped through. Jarrod stuck his hand up and absorbed the light into his fingers. He drove his knuckles into Argus’ jaw, shattering it.

  Jarrod stood over Argus and repeatedly bludgeoned him with the same fist until the Minotaur passed out. He looked back into the light and saw millions of hazy figures walking toward the crack. Their collective chatter was like a thunderous roar, and in the distance, the largest figure remained seated.

  The light that escaped through the cracks manifested in the black void, forming people he'd never seen before. Many of them cried, some of them rejoiced, and a few of them were angry. However, the white halo that surrounded them now surrounded Argus. Jarrod pressed his hand against Argus and absorbed him, just as he had done with the light. He stuck both hands out and one by one the people were sucked into his hands. He turned around and pressed against the wall, forcing all the people back to the other side.

  The imposing figure in the distance stood and sprinted toward the wall. With just a few halo-drenched people remaining on his side of the wall, Jarrod absorbed them and then used their energy to reform the wall and patch the cracks. A loud thud rang through the wall and Jarrod stumbled to the ground.

  When he landed, he was lying at Claire’s feet and next to his own body. It was as if time hadn't passed as Charon still had Claire pressed gently against the car door. He stood and his hands were still glowing. He reached inside his body and pulled Charon out, immediately taking control back. His body quivered, but he quickly regained his composure.

  “How?” Charon said, breathing hard. He looked around in a panic. “Where is Argus?”

  “Where he can't help you,” Jarrod whispered. Out of his eyes and hands, the blue light emanated. A corresponding blue halo grew around Charon until he vanished. The energy surged through Jarrod’s body, giving him a euphoric rush of adrenaline. He looked at Claire, his eyes still glowing, and smiled. “There's so much to tell you. I don't want you to be afraid.”