“Cartaphilus gives you this message. You shall not bring about an end to mankind, Archangel. I will remove your messenger and delay the plans of God for another millennia.”
“Holy shit,” Itishree said. She closed her eyes and winced.
Itishree didn’t see what happened over the next few seconds. Mira, the assassin flicked his gun toward Itishree’s head. But before he could discharge the weapon, the gun had turned into metal dust, losing the ability for the metal to bond. Next, Griffin had shot up and struck the assassin in the throat with his opened right hand. The follow through of Griffin’s body sent Mira into the roof of the train car blasting the wind from the assassin’s lungs.
Itishree squealed and fell into the aisle, curling herself to a ball. Griffin blurred and caught Mira as he fell from the ceiling and threw him the length of the train car. The assassin crunched bonelessly against the train compartment’s bulkhead. Griffin bounded into the air and folded back to strike with a hammer blow. But there was no strike. There was no need to strike the assassin again. Griffin stood over the unconscious Mira Kessler.
It was only after a second of silence did Itishree uncover her head and face to peer down the aisle of the train car. Griffin walked the length of the compartment, dragging the limp body behind him. Holding he assassin behind him with his right arm, he bent and lifted Itishree from the floor. A small whimper escaped her throat. Griffin gently sat her down in her previous seat and tossed Mira into the seats across the aisle. With practiced ambition, Griffin sat facing Itishree and inspected her for damage.
“You are unharmed?” Gabriel asked.
Itishree looked about her torso, patting herself down in a physical cliche’. “I’m unharmed.”
Gabriel’s blue eyes changed hue to green.
“Oooooouch,” Griffin said hugging his own arms. Then he slumped over against the train window. “Gabriel popped every joint in my body.”
“Who is that?” Itishree asked pointing at the body across the aisle.
“A thug hired by a bitter immortal,” Griffin said.
“Immortal?”
“Cartaphilus was a shop keeper on the street Christ walked on the way to crucifixion. Christ fell before Cartaphilus’ shop and paused to gather strength. The cross heavy upon his back. Blood streaming down the length of his body. ‘Move along, move along!’ Cartaphilus cried out, stepping out from his shop to throw scraps at Christ. ‘Move along, why do you loiter?’ Cartaphilus continued.”
Itishree caught on that this was Gabriel telling the story and not Griffin. Griffin’s eyes had closed and his face was a in a forced grimace.
“Christ said, ‘I shall rest, but you will go on till the last day’. And, with that, I placed a curse upon Cartaphilus to walk until the end. Encountering such a figure was not in my original instructions. I’m sorry if you have been further startled.”
“I’m going to be fine. What about Griffin?” Itishree asked.
“Griffin has suffered some physical damaged. I apologize,” the Archangel said. “He will need to rest before we reach our destination. He will recover in a few hours.”
Griffin’s eyes opened and looked at Itishree. She had been holding Griffin’s arms and looking intently at him. She could see one of his collar bones looked out of place.
“You should take this time to study your sermon.”
“What about that?” Itishree pointed again at Mira Kessler’s crumpled body across the aisle.
“He faired much worse and will not awaken until long after we have left this vehicle. He cannot harm you. Now, study while Griffin sleeps.” Griffin’s body relaxed and the grimaced was removed as his face fell into a neutral pose. Griffin’s breathing steadied out and deepened.
The United Nations
Itishree woke to light brushes through her hair. The train continued its steady rocking. She opened her eyes to see Griffin smiling down on her. She must have fallen asleep during her studies and Griffin awakened. She sat up next to Griffin. Looking over the aisle she saw Mira Kessler had not moved from the pile he had been tossed.
“Are you okay?” Itishree asked Griffin.
“I’m sore,” he said smiling. “How are you?”
“Rested. But my head is full of wonder and questions.”
“How so?” Griffin asked.
“From what Gabriel taught me. I’m worried and fascinated. How can we accomplish any of this?” Itishree made a sweeping gesture.
“We?” Griffin asked.
“Humankind. I would love to see mankind come together but I am deeply skeptical.”
A shadow feel across the train. They had entered a tunnel and the train had slowed considerably.
“You’ll know soon. We are about tens miles outside of New York,” Griffin said. His smile was unmovable.
“Oh crap,” Itishree said looking down at her hands in her lap. Crushing anxiety gripped her. The proximity to New York City had brought the realism of her divine task crashing around her.
“Babe, you are going to be awesome. I have faith in you.” Griffin lifted her chin and gave her a warm confident kiss.
Itishree couldn’t remove the look of worry from her face. She nodded and extended her mouth into a line.
“I can do this,” she said. “What do we do with Mira Kessler?”
“Leave him. He moaned a few times while you slept. From his ragged breathing I would guess he has several broken ribs. Maybe a concussion.” Griffin shrugged. “People have come in and out of this car, but no one back this far. Nobody cares.”
Griffin straightened and Itishree saw his eye color change. But even though she was certain Gabriel had taken control once again there was the slightest wince. Griffin was in considerable pain.
“An Archangel sits before you. Sent by the Heavens to Earth. Your species must rise above themselves or be vanquished. God calls for the righteous. The fruit of humanity. Will you answer for all your kind?”
“I shall. I am. It will be me,” Itishree swore.
“Do not fear. I will be your shield and your sword,” Gabriel said.
The look of Griffin’s face was fierce. Primal. Confident. The resolve gave strength to Itishree. Her back straightened too. She squared her shoulders and blew out a long breath.
Griffin reached out and kissed the back of Itishree’s hand. Minutes later they arrived at Penn Station. The station was busy, ancient, and boxy. Both Itishree and Griffin gawked at the internal contemporary splendor for a moment crossing the main hall. The seeming acres of criss-crossing people was distracting to them both. But the pair managed to find their luggage and make their exit onto West Thirty Third Street.
The early afternoon heat crashed over them as they walked onto the sidewalk. Itishree shrugged it off but Griffin made a gruff sound of disapproval. People rushing back to work, from lunch, filled the streets. This effect bothered Griffin too but not Itishree. She was used to the public hordes of India. But, it took considerable effort for Itishree to fall into rhythm and walk without bumping into or being bumped by the waves of Americans. She noted they had a style all their own. Her native culture was used to closer quarters and tighter movement. Americans were mobile aggressors.
With Gabriel’s guidance they circled the block and found the Affinity Manhattan Hotel. After handing over their identification the hotel clerk had declared them Lark and Melissa Gibson. Itishree and Griffin smiled over this again. They would never get used to Gabriel’s wit. Once they had deposited their luggage into the room, Itishree and Griffin selected as little baggage as possible for their two mile walk. Griffin took nothing but his wallet and hotel card key. He left his new cell phone in the hotel. If they suffered an unimaginable fate, the cell phone wouldn’t help. Itishree took her small purse. Gabriel had requested she wear a scarf loosely over her hair. She complied.
The was an awkward moment when they both realized they had nothing more to do than leave and carry out their mission. They stood in their room’s entry staring at each other. Itishree kne
w what Griffin was thinking.
“Are you ready?” she asked Griffin.
“Am I ready? Today is yours Itishree. Are you ready?” Griffin asked. A small amount of concern dented his brow.
“Yes. I answer God’s call. It will be me,” She said. And she believed her confidence.
“You sound like an old school baptist preacher.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Never mind” Griffin replied.
By now the sidewalks were missing the lunchtime crunch of workers. Griffin was thankful the sidewalks here were wide. The city seemed ten degrees cooler without the masses crowding around him.
“Is it this way?” Itishree asked pointing down West Thirty Third Street.
“Yes, we have a mile and a half before we turn left down First Avenue,” he said. Or, at least, that is what Gabriel had told him.
Together they set off at a brisk pace. Itishree had started out in a hurry. A part of her wanted to just get there, no matter where there was or what would happen. She just wanted to face her new reality, and wrestle it to the ground. Griffin was lagging behind, she noticed. After they had crossed the next block Itishree decided to slow her pace and enjoy the afternoon. Why not? She asked herself. She checked Griffin with a glance and saw he was carrying a wrinkled brow and was beginning to sweat.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Griffin seemed distracted but looked down at Itishree. “Yes, Gabriel is going through an incredible amount of information. It is overwhelming. I can almost hear thousands of people think, talk, interact.”
Griffin was beginning to appear like a person suffering from a migraine headache.
“Darling, can you suppress yourself and let Gabriel take over. I don’t know how to explain it. Hang back inside and not expose yourself to Archangelness?”
“That isn’t such a bad idea. Gabriel agrees,” Griffin said.
They had been walking and talking and when Itishree chanced another glance, Griffin’s face had relaxed and the blue eyes of the Archangel had taken Griffin’s emerald green.
West Thirty Third Street was a one way - three lane street with additional space for parking against each curb. They were walking against the traffic on the southern sidewalk. Vehicle traffic was moderate and, of course, exceeding the posted speed limit.
“Itishree?” Gabriel said.
“Yes, Mr. Archangel.”
“You will be the mother of a new humanity,” Gabriel added.
“I will? And, how am I to do that, Mr. Archangel?”
Foot traffic around them stopped both walking with them and against. Itishree didn’t stop moving forward, and at first, didn’t notice the pedestrians come to a halt in unison. Then, a woman turned and looked upon Itishree. Her face looked as though she was seeing a great work of art and realized the greatness for the first time. Mystery, reverence, almost awe cast over the stranger. Itishree walked past her lingering her own gaze until it craned her neck to do so.
“You will speak to the masses, in every nation large and small. You will comfort and educate the planet,” Gabriel said.
She turned to look up at him.
“Gabriel!” she shouted.
“Gabriel?” a man leaning up against a brick wall asked. Itishree turned to look at where the question had come and saw a middle aged man looking around, acting with confusion.
“Gabriel, I can see you!” Itishree squealed. She made pawing motions as if to dispel vapors.
Other pedestrians were stopping and gawking at Itishree and Griffin. A few began to reluctantly reach out for Itishree. But, they pulled back as if scolded by an invisible parent.
Itishree looked up at Griffin again. Waifs of blue-white light were breaking through the boundary of Griffin’s body. He was literally leaking Gabriel. Itishree stutter stepped to look at Griffin’s back and saw the outline of wings casting away the afternoon sun. As taller buildings cast shade onto Gabriel the effect was magnified. Gabriel was losing containment within Griffin’s body. And they were drawing a following. Itishree could hear gasps now from onlookers.
“Itishree, do not be afraid,” Gabriel said.
“I’m not afraid. But, you aren’t making this stroll easy.”
“Step into the street,” Gabriel said. Griffin had stopped and was pointing into the street.
Itishree turned not understanding the request and not seeing Griffin next to her.
“You want me to walk into the street?” She looked again into the street and saw the traffic had not slowed or lessened by any measure.
“Yes,” Gabriel said as he took Griffin between two parked cars.
“No!” Itishree shouted. “You said we would be safe!”
“How can God trust you to deliver his words when you have no faith in one of his servants?” Gabriel demanded.
“..I” Itishree looked from Griffin, now outlined completely by Gabriel. Itishree looked to the street, moving traffic, and then back at Griffin. She could see Gabriel’s eyes against Griffin’s forehead.
“Itishree, on this day we three will stand and you shall speak. By the end of the day the world will have listened,” Gabriel roared.
Itishree was witnessing Gabriel go bat shit crazy and taking Griffin along for the ride. She ran out into West Thirty Third Street and into traffic, to shield Griffin’s body. Tires squealed. Itishree squealed. People cried out. Griffin’s arms raised to shoulder height and Gabriel blossomed out in a flash of blue-white light. His nine feet and proportional mass eclipsing Griffin’s six feet silhouette, in which Gabriel encompassed Griffin. For the moment, Itishree lost awareness of her own danger and was totally enthralled by Gabriel’s exposure. It was the most majestic sight she had ever witnessed. And she had seen quite a few interesting events these last few days.
Gabriel walked over to Itishree and looked down on her. Inside the brilliance of his form she could see Griffin, mimicking Gabriel’s movement. The Archangel outstretched his left arm in a gesture for Itishree to continue walking, but now down the middle of the street. She looked up at Gabriel’s face and saw the Archangel manage a smile before dropping the invitation to continue towards their destination. She smiled back and turned east.
“Crazy Mr. Archangel, crazy,” she mouthed under her breath.
Every car within Itishree’s sight had stopped. Around them there was silence. She could hear car horns participating in a chorus of complaints, from what must have been blocks away. But, near her, drivers and passengers alike were out of their cars, standing with open mouths. Engines, people, even their dogs were silent.
Itishree resumed her walk. What else could she do? Gabriel followed. The energy entombed form of Griffin came with the Archangel. Together they walked among the strewn cars and onlookers. The sidewalks had filled with people and more were pouring out of the surrounding buildings. Store fronts stood open. Cell phones were held aloft by the few disenchanted. Some whispered to themselves. Others talked quietly. Strangers coming together in interesting times.
From Itishree’s left a large German Shepherd trotted up and sat, wagging it’s tail. She reached for it and stroked the dog’s head and jaw but didn’t break her stride. The dog made a gleeful whine and struggled to remain seated.
“Good dog,” Itishree said.
The German Shepherd stood and began to cantor in place from excitement. Its movements were almost a staggered series of jumps. Griffin’s arm shot out from Gabriel’s storming figure and patted the dog too.
“Hi Barnabas, good boy!” Griffin said.
Itishree was taken aback at hearing Griffin’s inflection coming from within Gabriel’s mass. She shook her head slightly and continued down the center of the street.
What happened next took Itishree completely by surprise. From the gathering masses a nun walked out into the street. She wore a black summer habit. In her hand she held a rosary of white beads. Her face was masked in a stern expression. The nun walked in an arc threading her way between stalled cars and the smattering
of passengers. Itishree slowed her pace unsure of what to do or what would happen next. She fell to her knees five meters ahead of Itishree, just off to the left of their path. Itishree walked up to her and stopped, looking down at the nun. At first the nun’s head was bowed. The, the nun raised her head to look up at Itishree. The nun began to weep. Itishree began to cry, cupping the nun’s cheek with a hand.
“Your courage is noted and appreciated sister. Thank you,” Itishree said.
The nun gathered herself and said, “Bless me for you walk with an angel of God.”
Itishree placed her hand on the nun head. The act seemed natural to Itishree but she didn’t know why. “Blessings from God, his servant Gabriel, and his prophet, Itishree.”
The nun smiled. A tear slid down her cheek.
“The Prophet of God!” Gabriel boomed with Griffin’s voice.
The sound made Itishree jump. She felt the pavement shake beneath her. The parked cars, lining both sides of the street, gave warning alarm chirps. Glass crashed from several nearby windows. And, everyone fell to their knees.
Itishree gave the nun one last smile and then left her there, kneeling. She had thought the street was quiet before but now, Itishree thought she could hear whispered prayers coming from the multitudes kneeling. Never before was she able to hear bird songs while on the streets of Pune’. She turned around to check on Griffin. Gabriel followed her. The Archangel gave almost a menacing stare as he walked. His head rhythmically checked left to right. “Great,” she thought. “Mr. Angel is scaring the people”. She checked their stares and indeed most were looking at Gabriel and not her. Fear upon most. Reverence on a few.
She stopped and turned again to Gabriel. Itishree affixed her most serious face. She looked up and straightened her arms by her sides.
“Gabriel,” she whispered. “You’re scaring people. Stop acting like you’re on patrol.”
Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) Page 26
