by Margaret
Derek was picking himself up slowly from the floor. His hand pressed against his chest; he seemed to be having trouble breathing. Yet, he looked at her; his eyes dark with concern. His love reached out to her, took hold of her, soothed and comforted her.
She slumped to the floor, pretending to faint but she kept her eyes open a slit. She watched as Derek straightened. He picked up the twisted metal of the broken chair and, lifting it like a shield, ran at Zanus.
Zanus fired another blast of hellish breath at Derek.
He lifted the chair, deflected the blast upward. The fiery breath exploded on the ceiling, scorching the tiles.
Derek flung aside the chair. Reaching Zanus, he put his arm around the man’s neck, got him in a headlock, and began to squeeze the life out of him.
Zanus had to pay attention now. He seized Derek’s arms and pulled, trying to break his hold.
Rachel began to crawl across the floor, keeping low, staying out of Zanus’s line of sight. She heard what sounded like the crunch of breaking bones and Derek cried out in agony. And then there was a crash, as Derek kicked Zanus’s chair out from under him. The two men rolled to the floor.
Rachel grit her teeth and kept going. She could hear the sounds of a desperate struggle and she wished she could see what was happening. She had her own task to do first. Then she could help Derek. And here was the desk! Finally! Rachel rose swiftly to her knees. Reaching up, she began to unscrew the cords in the back of the computer.
The thought had come to her that she could simply unplug it, shut off the juice, but then all Zanus would have to do would be to plug it back in. This way, he’d have to figure out which cords went where and that would take time; time he didn’t have. She concentrated on her task that was taking longer than it should have because her hands were shaking. Then she heard Derek give a terrible cry. And then silence.
Rachel was in agony, but she didn’t dare say a word or go to him. She hadn’t finished yet.
Zanus stood up. He was a little mussed and disheveled. His tie was crooked and he had a cut on his head. He started to walk back to the computer.
And then Rachel saw Derek. His face was battered and bloody. One arm was mangled, the flesh shredded, as though it had been in a meat grinder. His shirt was half torn from his body. His breathing was labored. He could barely stand. He wasn’t down yet. He saw what she was doing, knew he had to distract Zanus.
“Hey!” Derek called. “We’re not finished here, you and me.”
Zanus turned away. Derek took a swing at the fiend with his one remaining good hand.
Zanus calmly sidestepped the feeble blow. Doubling his fist, he smashed it into Derek’s face. Blood gushed and Derek toppled over backward.
“Now we are,” Zanus sneered.
He turned around, just as Rachel yanked out the last cord. The computer screen went dark.
“What the—” Zanus breathed. He looked up and saw Rachel.
His black eyes began to glow red, lit from within by an unholy fire. He opened his mouth in a scream of rage and she saw to her horror that his teeth were fangs, dripping saliva. Enormous black wings sprouted from his back. Sharp talons thrust out of his fingers. One flap of his wings carried him up and over the desk. He seized hold of Rachel, claws piercing her flesh.
She screamed and writhed as the fiery pain coursed through her body.
“Sampson!” Derek shouted. “He’s crossed over! We can take him now. Quickly!”
Lights, bright and beautiful, blazed in Rachel’s fading vision. She heard Zanus—or rather, the demonic thing he had become—gibber in fury and rage. He released her, flinging her down, and turned to face this new threat.
Rachel lay on the floor, dazzled by the brilliant light, mesmerized, unable to move.
“I’m hallucinating,” she whispered to herself. “I’m dying and this is all a strange and terrible dream.”
Sampson jumped to his feet, four feet, that were suddenly two feet. The cat’s body morphed, changing shape, losing its orange fur, growing and shifting into the form of a young man, a beautiful young man, with skin like polished ebony, and dark curly hair, and a cherubic smile. The light emanated from his hands.
“I call upon the heavenly host to hear me!” Sampson cried. “Open the gates of Purgatory!”
Sampson spread his hands wide and, as he did so, a gate made of gold and silver appeared before him. It swung open, revealing a landscape that was bleak and blasted, with stunted trees and charred plants; a landscape that looked as though battles had raged across it for centuries.
Derek rose from the floor. With his last strength, he seized hold of the archfiend. It was like grabbing hold of a lightning bolt. Jolts of fire shot through him as Zanus fought to free himself from Derek’s grip.
Derek endured the pain and kept hold of the demon. Black wings beat in his face. Talons shredded his flesh. He grit his teeth against the torment and dragged Zanus, shrieking and flailing, toward the gate.
Once there, Derek drew in a breath and let it out in a battle cry.
“Knights of the Lion, to me!”
Warriors, tall and stalwart, clad in shining silver armor, bearing swords that flamed with blessed light, came running at Derek’s cry.
“Commander!” one shouted. “We come at your call!”
“Take this thing back to Hell where it belongs,” Derek ordered. “I’m sure its master will be glad to see it.”
Zanus broke free of Derek’s weakening grip and tried to flee, but the silver-clad knights ran through the Gate, caught him and held him fast. He writhed and howled in their grip and tried to bite them.
“Take the fiend away,” ordered one of the knights and the other two dragged Zanus off.
Derek slumped to the floor. Blood dribbled from his mouth.
“Commander, let me help you,” said the knight, kneeling down. He started to touch Derek, then he drew back his hand. “Heaven forefend! You’re…”
“Human,” said Derek. He collapsed, rolled over on his back. “Go back to the battle, Wilhelm. That’s an…order. And take Sampson with you. He’s…been promoted.”
“Yes, Commander,” said the knight and he raised his sword in salute.
“Thank you, Commander,” Sampson said in a choked voice. Kneeling down, he took hold of Derek’s hand. “I hope you have your wish, Sir. I hope you will be promoted, as well.”
Derek smiled and squeezed the cherub’s hand. Sampson turned his gaze to Rachel.
“Goodbye, Rachel. I’ll always remember you,” Sampson said.
“Goodbye, Sampson,” Rachel whispered, bewildered. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you!” Sampson said. A tear rolled down his cheek. “And the liver treats.”
“Stop sniveling, warrior,” said the knight sternly. “You are a holy knight now. Come with us. The battle awaits.”
Sampson gave Rachel a swift kiss and then, waving his hand, he accompanied the knight through the Gate.
White light flashed, blinding Rachel.
When she could see again, the Gate was gone.
“Rachel…” Derek’s voice was very weak.
“Derek!” she cried. She tried to stand, but she was too weak. She crawled over to him. “Oh, my God!”
He was covered in blood. His breath came in gasps. His eyes were shadowed with pain. Yet, when Derek looked at Rachel’s face, they seemed to clear.
“Are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
“I have a…fat lip,” she said, trying to smile.
“Your lips are beautiful,” he said. “You’re beautiful. I want to…say goodbye myself.” Blood frothed on his lips. He coughed. “Though I never got…any of those liver treats…”
Rachel gathered him in her arms, and held him fast. “No, Derek,” she cried brokenly. “You can’t die. You can’t leave me. I love you too much!”
“I love you,” he whispered. “And I will not leave you. I have been…promoted…You need a guardian…”
“Here now!�
� said a voice. “You can’t be telling this mortal our secrets.”
Rachel looked around wildly to see the last person she would have ever expected. The homeless guy, in his shapeless and battered hat, walked into the room.
William squatted down beside Derek. Taking off his hat, he began to fan him with it.
“You did good, son,” William said, then he sighed. “The war isn’t won, not by a long shot, but you dealt them a blow. It will take them some time to recover. The fiends are still here on Earth, though. They still mean to enslave humanity, plunge the world into darkness. But they won’t have any ally in Heaven any more. Michael’s been cast out, sent off to serve his evil master. Who probably won’t be too happy to see him.”
Derek smiled. His eyes closed. “God did not fail me this time,” he said softly.
“He didn’t fail you the last time, did He, son?” William asked gently.
Derek shook his head. “I failed Him. I was consumed by hatred. I had forgotten how to love.” He opened his eyes, looked into Rachel’s.
She sobbed and kissed his battered face, over and over.
“When I think of the centuries it’s taken to beat that into your thick skull…” William eyed Derek.
“Thank you, sir, for having faith in me,” said Derek weakly.
He looked at Rachel. “There won’t be anything in Heaven quite so lovely…”
He sighed, softly. His eyes closed. His body went limp in Rachel’s arms.
“No, no, no. You can’t leave me.” She was sobbing now. “I just found you! I can’t go on without you.”
She slumped over Derek’s lifeless body.
“Yes, you can, Rachel. You must, for his sake.” William raised his hands to Heaven. “Blessed be the name of Lord. Amen.”
William’s prayer was soft, barely heard, but it resonated like a throbbing drumbeat inside Rachel. She could see the holy words glowing as they passed William’s lips and shower down on her body like glittering stars. She looked at him and she did not see a homeless man in a tattered raincoat and beat-up hat. She saw a radiant being clad in snowy white robes, enveloped in an ethereal white light. She remembered the vision of Derek she’d seen, kneeling over the dying cat, who hadn’t been a cat at all.
“An organization,” she said softly. “Derek said he worked for an organization…You’re angels!”
“Derek never could keep a secret.” William smiled. “Neither can I, though. Yes, he is an angel. So is Sampson. So am I. You’re not supposed to know, though. Heaven has a reason for keeping its secrets. And so, I’ve been authorized to make you forget all this, Rachel. I can take away the grief, the pain…”
“You mean, you can make it so that I never loved Derek?”
“Yes, if that is what you want.”
Rachel shook her head. She leaned over, kissed Derek gently, and spoke softly, talking to him. No matter that he was far from her, she knew he could hear her.
“You told me once that love ‘should make you feel as though you want to do great deeds, be brave and heroic. You want to strive for perfection, for the sake of the one you love, not your own. That way, if anything happened, and you lost the person you loved, you would feel pain, but you would also feel pride and gratitude, for you would know that because of the loved one, you are better, wiser, stronger…’”
Her voice broke, choked with tears, but she managed to smile through her sorrow.
“God help me,” she said. “I will be.”
She turned to William. “I don’t want to forget. What you told Derek about the battle, about the evil powers trying to plunge the world into darkness. I’d like to help you in that fight if I can. “
William was shaking his head. “That would be too dangerous—”
“I know. I’m not afraid. Not anymore,” said Rachel. “I want to do something with my life. Something good to make up for all the bad. After I get out of prison, of course.”
William gave her an intense look, as though he could see right through her to her very soul. Which, she realized, he probably could.
“That might be arranged,” he said in thoughtful tones. “I’ll talk to my superiors, see what I can do. Here, now. What am I doing? You’re hurt and you’re exhausted.”
William put his arm around her and Rachel had the sensation of being enveloped in soft, white, feathery wings.
“It’s time to go home,” said William.
Twenty-three
Rachel woke the next morning to find that she’d slept so deeply, her arm had gone numb. She’d fallen asleep with her arm over her eyes and now she couldn’t move it. She drew her arm away from her face and felt the stinging-nettle sensation that foretold the blood rushing back to her fingers.
She felt numb as her arm and she waited, tensely, for the stinging sensation to come back to her. It did not take long. The pain of Derek’s death rolled over her like a tank, seeming to crush the life out of her.
She felt empty and lost and alone. So very alone. She’d even lost Sampson. He wasn’t there to lick her tears away. Rachel let the tears and sobs come and she wept until she couldn’t cry anymore.
The memory of last night was vivid. She recalled how William had told her he could make that memory go away and how she had refused. She recalled her brave words to William last night, but she didn’t feel very brave this morning.
She rolled over on her back and lay there on the bed thinking for a long time. Derek had given her a gift—her life. Rachel was lying here sobbing and breathing, because Derek had sacrificed himself so that she could continue to do those things.
You are alive, so now what do you do? Keep feeling sorry for yourself? Throw yourself off the roof like Zanus wanted? No, you’re weak and you need help, and William’s not here to pray for you and spread his wings over you.
Rachel wiped her face free of the tears. She closed her eyes and she slowed her breathing and she prayed.
“Dear Father, please hear me. I’m one of your charges and I need to ask for your forgiveness. I’ve been weak. No, I am weak and I need your help to get through today. I let myself become seduced by greed and power. I was afraid and I stumbled. I lost faith. Please forgive me. Oh, and please watch over Derek. I love him. Keep him near to you. And tell Sampson I said hello and I miss him. Thank you. Amen.”
Rachel opened her eyes. Resolved to feel something, anything, she climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom. Her face was red and puffy. Her eyes bloodshot. Remarkably, though, she felt fine physically, despite the beating that Zanus had given her. Her lip was still fat, though. Rachel took a long, hot shower, and then dressed to go to the office.
She went down the elevator and emerged into the lobby. It looked foreign to her. She stared at it as though she’d never seen it before. This wasn’t her lobby. Something were missing.
“Derek is missing,” she whispered.
A stranger—a new doorman—looked up at her. He rose, walked toward her.
“Good morning. I’m Sean…”
Rachel ran past him, not saying a word. She pushed open the door before he could manage to reach it and hurried down the stairs. She’d told the car not to pick her up this morning. She’d have to take a cab and she wasn’t about to ask the new doorman to call one for her.
Given what she planned to do this morning, she’d have to move out of this expensive building anyway. She found herself feeling almost grateful. She walked down to the end of the block to catch a cab.
Rachel stood outside Mr. Freeman’s door. She hesitated just a moment, just long enough to steel her nerves.
“Love makes you strong,” she said to herself and she knocked.
“Hello, Rachel, please come in.” Freeman looked very grave. Maybe he already knew everything.
Rachel seated herself in the chair opposite Freeman’s desk. She clasped her hands tightly, drew in a deep breath. She’d gone through the scenario of what she would say to him in her head a thousand times today already. That didn’t make this any easier.
“Mr. Freeman…”
“How did you hurt your lip?” he asked.
“I…uh, bumped into a door. Listen, I’m not going to make this any more difficult for both of us than it has to be. I’m just going to rip off the ban dage, so to speak.” Rachel cleared her throat. “I made some illegal trades recently for a client of ours.”
Rachel watched the color drain from Freeman’s face. He stared at her. A nerve in his jaw twitched. He was seeing the ruin of his company come crashing down around him.
“I want to assure you,” said Rachel, “I’ll take all the blame. You won’t be implicated. No one here will.”
“Which client? How many trades?”
“The client was Mr. Zanus. You can view the trades in his account on your computer.”
Freeman blinked.
“Zanus! What Mr. Zanus? We don’t have a client named Zanus.”
Rachel sighed. “You’re in denial, Mr. Freeman. Mr. Andreas Zanus is in the system. Go ahead and look him up and you’ll see.” Rachel gestured toward Freeman’s computer.
Freeman started tapping in the name. “Zanus. Z-A-N-U-S. Is that the correct spelling?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
Freeman shook his head. “I’m not finding him.” He looked back at Rachel, who was staring at the computer screen.
He was right. There was no Zanus there.
Freeman looked back at her. “Why don’t you sit down, Rachel,” he said gently. “Here, let me pour you a glass of water.”
Rachel sat down. She lifted the glass to her lips, but she couldn’t take a drink. Her head was spinning.
“But what about the Euro? The markets? Yesterday…the disaster…”
“Disaster?” Freeman was staring at her in perplexity that soon changed to concern. “Rachel, you’ve been working awfully hard lately. I’m afraid you’re suffering from burnout. I’ve seen it before. Not enough sleep. Not enough to eat. Maybe you should take some vacation time and rest up. Please don’t take offense, but you don’t look well.”
Rachel set the glass on the desk. “Maybe you’re right, Mr. Freeman. I haven’t been sleeping.”
