by Dima Zales
4
“So you don’t have enough money to buy a caramel apple, but you can afford a laptop?”
I leaned over the side of the kitchen table, plugging the landline for the Internet into my laptop. Couldn’t afford wireless yet but I was working on it. “It’s called saving up. Considering the nature of my work, I knew I’d be needing one unless I wanted to schlep to the library every time I want to search for something.”
I plopped down in my chair and opened the Internet browser, taking me straight to Google. Michael propped his elbow on the back of my chair, leaning in to see. I typed in “Michael O’Brien Albany NY 518 555-8762” and hit Enter. The page exploded full of entries. I read through the headlines that included pictures and none of them were the dead man standing to my left. However, one of them caught my eye because it had to do with the club Chloe had mentioned, Devil’s Paradise.
Underground Band ‘Throwaway Angels’ Smash Hit in Devil’s Paradise
“Gee, is there enough symbolism here for you?” I muttered. Michael snorted with laughter. I opened the article and began to scan through it, particularly the first couple paragraphs.
August 5th, 2010—Local talent Throwaway Angels hits it big at club Devil’s Paradise in Albany, NY. Tonight was the first performance to sell out tickets more than a week in advance for such a small establishment and the response through email, phone calls, and Tweets suggests that fans are begging for more.
The band, consisting of five members, is of the garage rock variety: showcasing strong vocals by the femme fatale Casey Beck and the hunky Michael O’Brien, dual guitarists Kate Levitz and Stanley Cooper, and drummer Martin Cunningham. Michael O’Brien founded the group over a year ago and had been strategically planning performances ever since until they were able to secure a gig. He has not released a statement as to whether or not they will do a follow up to their explosive concert.
“Well, this explains my Guitar Center visits,” Michael said.
The rest of the article went on to describe which songs they played, which wasn’t terribly useful, so I copied and pasted the article in a Word document for safekeeping. “If we’re lucky, we can figure out an address from this information. If you really did that well at the club, someone will try to find you in order to get a statement or invite you guys back.”
I paused, frowning. Michael tilted his head at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I was going to say we need to contact your band mates, but…they probably don’t know you’re dead.”
He shrugged. “For all we know, one of them did it. Think about it: with such a successful debut, what if one of these guys wanted to gank me to become the new leader of the band?”
I shook my head. “That’d be a damn stupid thing to die over. Playing at a football stadium during the Superbowl is worth killing for but Devil’s Paradise in Albany? Not so much.”
Michael raked his bangs away from his face with a sigh, his expression somewhat melancholy. “It’s just a theory. Couldn’t hurt to write the story in case it turns out to be true.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “Who are you? Richard Castle?”
He flashed me a roguish grin. “Only if you’ll be my Beckett.”
“I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“A little bit, yeah.”
I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms over my head before pressing them over my eyes to think. The best course of action now would be to contact the writer of the article to see if they had a listed address for Michael. I’d hate to go snooping around his apartment if the killer was hanging about, but any other method would involve alerting the others to the fact that he was dead. It would be much harder to recover his memory and get him crossed over with cops covering all the angles of the case. Honestly, I should have just enrolled in the Albany police academy for all the trouble I went through with deaths in this city.
“What are you thinking, Beckett?”
I didn’t bother telling him not to call me that. Instead, I removed my arms from my face to stare up at him from upside down. “I’m thinking we should contact the author of the article to see if we can get an address. With any luck, no one is there and we can figure out how to get inside.”
“What if my body’s in there?”
“We’ll pretty much have no choice but to call the cops. Things will get sticky, but not impossible. Every day that passes is another day for you to potentially get your memory back.” I sat up straight and scribbled down the email address of the article writer posted on the right-hand side of his name—Vincent Dreyfuss. I typed the most innocuous email possible asking for Michael’s address to send him fan mail and hoped he would reply sometime soon. For now, we would have to wait.
“Now that we have some free time…” Michael sat down in the chair next to me, fixing me with a sobering gaze. “Why don’t you tell me about how you got into this mess you’re in?”
I lowered my eyes to the keyboard. “I’d rather not.”
“Jordan.” He spoke just my name with a tone that was both firm and gentle at the same time. There wasn’t really a defense I had other than it was my own damn business. Part of me knew I needed to face my past at some point. After all, little harm could come from telling it to a dead man.
I let out a long breath. “Two years ago, I was home alone when some sort of demon came into my apartment and tried to attack me…”
Crazed teeth gnashed inches away from my face. The eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. Spider-like fingers strained for my throat. I screamed and ran towards the bedroom.
I slammed the door shut and dove for the nightstand, hands shaking as I checked the chambers to make sure the gun was loaded. The door flew open with a bang. A second bang followed. Then all was silent.
The phantom was gone, but in its place stood a man in a suit beneath his dark grey duster. His hair was black and his face was growing paler by the second. He reached out his hand. My panicked eyes spotted the scarlet speckled across the palm. The room had gone silent because the gun had deafened me. The barrel was still smoking and now I could see the hole I had put through the man’s chest.
I couldn’t breathe, but somehow I could still talk, and my lips were whispering one word over and over.
“No, no, no, no…”
The man said nothing as he fell to his knees in front of me, his azure eyes locked on mine as if he were trying to tell me something, but the strength was ebbing from him in crimson rivulets. I dropped the gun and fell to my knees as well. My fingertips grazed his face as if I could bring him back to life with one touch, but we both knew it was too late. He laid a rough, scarred hand to the side of my cheek where hot tears had fallen, his lips parting to whisper in a soothing voice.
“Don’t be afraid. They’re going to come for you, but please don’t be afraid.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please…” I managed to gasp out in between sobs.
The man merely smiled and closed his eyes. “Don’t be. I’m ready.”
He swayed forward and I caught his heavy body, feeling his blood soak my shirt. He slid down until his face rested in my lap, drawing in a few more shallow breaths before going completely still, empty, lifeless. I sat there with my coated hands stroking his hair, still whispering over and over for him to forgive me.
Golden light poured in from all angles, nearly blinding me, and I could just barely see the outline of a man with wings.
When the light dimmed, a blond man stood in front of me with white-gold wings that stretched nearly from wall to wall of my small bedroom. His tanned body was wrapped in white linen and his skin seemed to possess an ethereal quality, glowing like he had some unique source of inner radiance. Blue eyes like twin suns shone down on me with kindness and empathy. A new feeling of shock and reverence gave me enough strength to speak.
“W-Who are you?”
“My name is Gabriel. I am the archangel of the Lord God.” His voice had an echo to it that seemed to sooth
e and agitate me at the same time. The angel folded his wings into his back and knelt beside the dead man in my lap. His fingers hovered over the wound the bullet had left through the man’s back.
“As I thought…he is dead.”
More tears poured as I tried to explain. “I-I didn’t know it was him. There was a monster chasing me. I got scared. I’m so sorry.”
Gabriel’s face fell into that of a pitying expression. “You are human. It was only natural for you to be afraid. However, the Father cannot overlook what you have done. The man before you is a Seer—one of the few humans in this world who can see angels, demons, and spirits. He was hunting the demon you saw a moment ago.”
“Please, I don’t want to die. I’ll do anything to make this better,” I whispered, bowing to the angel.
He touched the crown of my head in comfort. “There is something you can do to make amends, my child. You must take his place.”
I looked up in shock. “What?”
“You are a Seer, Jordan. Your abilities had not awakened until just now. That is why the demon was drawn to you. Your time to serve the Lord is now. In order to pay for the crime of taking this man’s life, you must help one hundred wandering souls cross from this world to the next. If you do not finish this task two years from this day, I am afraid your soul shall be sent to hell.”
“H-How? How do I even know which people are spirits?” I stammered in protest.
“The dead have no feet to walk upon because they are no longer tied to the Earth. Your task is to discover how they died and help them fulfill their final wish. Do not fear, for I will teach you how to free their souls. After this is done, the soul will go to the next world and I will write down the name in the Book of Penance.”
He held out his hand and a red leather book materialized, spelling out my name in gold cursive across the front. It managed to be both beautiful and macabre. Gabriel placed it by my side and carefully rolled the man over onto his back. He plucked a feather from his wings and pressed it over the man’s heart.
“Rest in peace. The gates of Heaven are waiting.”
I watched with wonderment as the feather dissipated into tiny flecks of light and felt warmth as something nearly transparent rose from the body. I realized with shock that it was the man’s soul. He hung in the air between Gabriel and me for a moment before floating upward and out of sight. His body faded seconds later, leaving only the bloodstained clothes behind. My fingers closed over the grey duster, which was still salvageable in comparison to the shirt and pants.
“I shall be watching over you always, Jordan Amador. Do your very best and above all, have faith.” He rose upward on those amazing wings once more and was gone.
“Wow,” Michael murmured. “That’s…pretty damn heavy. So did you ever learn the guy’s name who you…y’know?”
I shook my head. “Gabriel said it wasn’t important, but…”
I stood and walked over to the counter, opening the first drawer on my right. From it, I found a manila folder and tossed it to Michael. He flipped the cover open, reading the file name.
“Mr. N?”
“N as in unknown?”
“Geek,” he said. Inside were several news clippings I had collected that told of a nameless man who performed exorcisms around the world and appeared at the scene of a crime days in advance. No one knew anything about him or where he lived. He was as much a ghost as any of the spirits I had met.
“This guy was a serious bad ass. I hope you find out who he is someday.”
“Me too.”
He paused. “Wait, so you’ve been on your own doing this for two years? What about your family? Parents?”
“I never knew my father. My mother…” I took a deep breath. “They took me away from her when I was five. She was put in a psychiatric hospital and committed suicide not long afterwards.”
“Jesus.” He started to say more, but I just shook my head.
“The worst thing you can do is feel sorry for me. It’s a small price to pay for my soul so I’ll pay it.”
“So what? You think you deserve to be completely alienated from every aspect of humanity because you accidentally killed someone?” The disbelief in his voice was nearly palpable. I merely shrugged.
He let out a bitter chuckle, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re a piece of work, alright. There are a lot of things you can do wrong in this life, but killing someone in self-defense is not the worst crime ever committed.”
I hardened my gaze. “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t remember your life. I highly doubt with your rock star status that you ever killed someone and sat there watching them bleed to death in front of you.”
My throat tightened as the mental image of his blood on my hands flashed through my head. I brushed the thought away as quickly as I could. “I don’t care if I never have to speak to another human being again as long as I can pay for my mistake.”
“What’s the point of saving your own life if you do nothing with it?” he asked, stunning me to silence. The truth in his words rang like bells through my head. He was right. The arrogant son of a bitch was right.
I closed my eyes and let my breath out slow. “We’re busy enough trying to save your soul. Please don’t try to save mine.”
He didn’t call out to me as I turned and went back to my room, shutting the door. I collapsed on the bed face first. There was no reason to listen to him. The only things that mattered were the last two souls that still needed saving. Faintly, I heard the front door open and close. I shut my eyes and told myself not to care.
My dreams were almost always nothing but fractured memories of the night I killed the man who saved me, but this time I didn’t see my room. There was a long hallway with a white door and a gold knocker. I stood there in this pure isolation, transfixed as a soft voice spoke into my left ear.
“Open the door.”
My head snapped around to look but no one was there. “Who’s there?”
“Relax, my dear. Don’t worry. Everything you’ve ever wanted…everything you’re waiting for in this life…is beyond that door. The only thing you have to do is open it.” The voice caressed my ears as if it were made of silk.
I felt relaxed, almost euphoric. My bare feet could hardly even feel the cold of the tile as I began to walk down the hall to the door. Black satin from the dress I wore curled around my ankles as I continued, one hand reaching for the elegant glass knob. My body came to a stop.
“Open the door, Jordan. You will suffer no longer. Don’t you deserve to be happy?”
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling the weight of its words. “I’m so tired.”
I turned the knob and the door swung inward, exposing nothing but a vast darkness. From it, a hand wearing a black glove stretched towards me. Surprised, I took a step back. A tall Japanese man stepped out of the shadows, clothed in a black tuxedo with tails. His hair was midnight black and framed both sides of his pale face. He bowed formally at the waist, speaking with a seductive purr.
“Please come with me. I need your help. Yours and yours only.”
He held out his hand, palm upward, with a patient smile. I had no idea who this man was, but for some reason, I believed him. I reached my hand towards his, but then hesitated. Something about his smile made the tranquil feeling retreat. He opened his eyes and I noticed that they were the palest blue I had ever seen, nearly white. Stranger still were his pupils, which weren’t round but thin slits like a snake’s.
“What’s wrong, my pet?”
“Where are we going?” I glanced furtively into the dark abyss behind him that now seemed ominous. At first, all I could think about was disappearing with the gorgeous stranger, but now my surety had melted into uncertainty.
He smiled again. “What does it matter? Don’t you want to be happy? Don’t you want to be freed of your burdens?”
“Yes, but not if I’m walking in blind.”
“I will be your eyes, your ears, your mouth. Rely on me only, Jor
dan. I am but your servant.”
My fingers hung in the air, mere inches from his, but something in my gut told me to pull away. I pressed my hand to my chest, shaking my head.
“Please, just tell me where we’re going.”
The man’s smile faded, leaving his once pleasant face colder than ice. “You have opened the door. There is no room for doubt or hesitation.”
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him. I screamed and tried to yank my arm free. I turned to run back down the hallway but it seemed to stretch for miles with no end in sight, no door on the other end to run through. The man folded my arms across my chest and held me against him with inhuman strength, his lips brushing my ear.
“Make no mistake. I will find you and you will help me. Your Father is not the only one with a plan.”
He dragged me, kicking and struggling, backwards towards the darkness.
I woke up, groping in the dark for my gun when I noticed someone in front of my bed.
“Jordan, calm down! It’s me!” Michael strode into the moonlight cascading in from the window opposite the bed. How long had I been asleep? I slid the gun back underneath the pillow and pressed my hands over my eyes, trying to slow my breathing. The effects of the nightmare still raced through my body like a drug. I hadn’t felt such intense fear before, not since the night I killed that man.
“Nightmare?” Michael asked, casting a concerned look over my shaking shoulders. I rubbed my arms to settle the goosebumps and merely nodded, still too bothered to come up with a sarcastic remark.
“You have them every night, don’t you?”
I glanced up at him, frowning. “How did you…?”
He pulled out the bottom drawer of my nightstand. I winced. There was a small glass and a large bottle of strong whiskey inside. One of the few perks of living next to a liquor store. “Just a guess.”
