CHAPTER 17
Thane opened his eyes with a start and knew immediately where he was. He hadn't been here in at least a year or better, but there was no mistaking the inside of Cane's trailer. His brother had an affinity towards rock posters and neon bar signs, and not surprisingly, the thin walls of his mobile home were covered with the both of them. An oversized Matilda Bay fluorescent provided most of the light in the room.
It always smelled like syrup and cigarettes inside his brother's place, and right now was no exception. From the reclined chair he awakened in, he could make out a half eaten plate of waffles on the bar across the room. A discount end table on his left held the guilty ashtray. It was in need of dumping and surrounded by empty beer cans.
The inside of Cane's trailer was cold. Thane didn't mind. He had always been most comfortable with the thermostat turned down a little lower than everybody else's idea of room temperature. It was about the only thing that he had in common with his older brother.
Thane moved himself and the recliner to the upright position. Very patiently he scooted his rump towards the edge of the great chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. An air conditioner vent in the floor blew up into his face, and Thane hung his head low to absorb it. He had always liked that about trailers-the air rushed up from the floor and you could straddle the cold if you wanted to.
The air felt good. It was a bit damp and earthy smelling, but very cool, and very refreshing. Thane ran both hands through his cropped hair and rubbed his scalp. He looked around on the floor by his feet for his cap, and when he couldn't find it, decided that he must have lost it at the hospital.
The hospital . . . Schwann . . . Father Lucas.
Every minute detail of what he had endured earlier flooded his memory. The heart in his chest, which only seconds earlier was steady and soothing, began to race and pound against his breastbone. It had all been real. He should probably be dead. What he was doing in his brother's trailer? Were more of those things were coming after him?
Instinctively he reached for his gun.
Damn.
Next, he reached his hand around to feel the back of his shoulder. His fingers found a tear in his uniform, but the flesh beneath was intact. Nothing hurt. He wasn't sore anywhere, or even fatigued.
Bullshit. I got stuck. Schwann did it.
His heart calmed somewhat as he realized that he was not in any imminent danger— at least any that he could tell. This was Cane's house, and even though he and his brother didn't get along, Thane knew he was safe here. There was, however, so much that he didn't know.
He sat still for a moment longer trying to make just a bit of sense out of everything that had happened to him. He had no answers. He was smart enough to know that there were forces at work here beyond his understanding, and he was smart enough to be thankful that he was alive and apparently well. That would have to be enough for now.
He turned his attention to the television set over his right shoulder. The volume had been turned all the way down, but the screen was bright with life. It was a twenty-four hour news show on the box, and he didn't need to hear the handsome anchorman talking to know what the news was. It had been the same for a couple of days now-the planet Jupiter was getting pounded by comet Shoemaker-Levy 9-and during a slow news week pictures from outer space always seemed to excite people. Thane wished he could share their enthusiasm.
Beyond the television, in the far corner of Cane's trailer, Thane finally saw the other man in the room. For the first time in his adult life he was unable to move.
The man was extraordinary. Thane wouldn't even allow himself to blink as he stared at the fellow. The man was big. He was the largest human being Thane had ever laid eyes on. Somehow he had crammed his colossal frame into the matching recliner across the room and seemed comfortable, but to Thane he looked like an eight- grader in a kindergartners' desk. It was more than just his size however. He seemed more than human. Better. Perfect. Beautiful.
He stared right back at Thane with the faint trace of a grin on his lips. He looked about twenty-five or so, but that was way off. This man was older than that. Much older. Thane could just tell. His eyes were kind and wise like a grandparent, and Thane felt like a child in his presence. He couldn't look away from the man.
The man's dress was curious and unlike anything the young deputy had seen before. For a coat a mantle is what he wore, fastened with a piece of polished bone, and similar to those worn by ancient soldiers. Underneath it a linen vest was gathered close about him and revealed the definition of his chest and limbs. A matching pair of linen pants fit his lower half much looser and actually looked comfortable. The entire outfit was relic, but the material appeared new and clean and the man seemed unconcerned and very at ease with his choice of clothing. The largest sword that Thane had ever seen was fastened to his back. His voice was clear and assuring when he finally broke the silence.
"You can ask your questions Thane. We should be undisturbed here for some time."
"Did you fix my shoulder?"
"Yes. Healing others is not my strong point, but yours was a fairly uncomplicated wound. Severe, but not intricate."
"And you brought me here to my brother's trailer."
"Yes again. I needed to bring you somewhere safe, yet familiar. You've experienced quite a lot tonight, and there is much more that you need to learn. Some of the things that I tell you might be as much of a shock to your system as the hospital attack. The least I could do was offer you a friendly setting."
"You said undisturbed. You mean from those things . . .those . . . well, whatever they were that tried to kill me."
"Those and others."
"They weren't just a bunch of sick convicts. Something else fueled that attack. Something unseen. Something beyond me."
"Evil has many faces Thane," Armaros stated with an understanding look worn on his face. "Those men were only vessels, you're right about that. Whether it was their weakened physical condition or their corrupt morality I can't say, but those inmates were easily controlled by other, darker, forces, who in turn were led by the darkest force of all."
"You mean Satan?"
Armaros shook his head ever so slightly before answering. "Satan is a spoiled child. He is vain, powerful, and the purveyor of much pain and suffering, but he still loves his Father. Everything he does, he does it for his father's attentions. Of course those attentions will never come. They have gone elsewhere. He knows it, but he cannot accept it. He blames man. He is jealous of mankind and that is why he attempts to thwart the advancement of your people every chance he gets. But know that he would stop it all-the temptations, possessions, advancement of sin-if only the Uncreated would take him back, forgive him, and tell him that he was right all along about man."
"Right about what?"
"Lucifer never believed that mankind was worthy of God's love. He was perfect. Man was not. Why should he serve a creature so flawed just because his Father could not see the shortcomings of his latest creation?"
Thane wore a puzzled expression on his face as he listened to the big man ask his question. He spoke with little emotion but a hint of authority. He reminded Thane of his favorite college professor, only younger looking and much, much bigger. How did he know all this stuff?
"Who then?"
"I'll explain many things to you soon enough."
"You seem to know an awful lot about the devil, me, and everything that's going on around here. That's good, because I don't. I'm a deputy sheriff, and I'm already in above my head friend. I don't know who are what you are, but if you can just take all of this away, make me forget everything that has happened so far or something like that, I would be grateful. I don't think I'm up for whatever I'm about to be pulled into."
"You're much more than a deputy sheriff Thane. What you choose to do for employment does not define who you really are. Especially not in your case."
"I can agree with that, but the point I'm trying to make is that I'm not up for this. I don't kn
ow what "this" is, but I know it involves demons, dark forces, and . . . well, whatever you are, we haven't even got to that yet. I'm no grand adventurer. Please find somebody else and put my life back like it was."
The big man shifted in the chair. It protested with sounds of wood creaking and springs straining, but still it held. He was all lean muscle, but his weight must have been significant in order to fill out such a massive frame. He seemed to sympathize with Thane as he spoke.
"I'm sorry Thane. I really am. I know this all may seem . . . well, odd to you to say the least. But I can't snap my fingers and make it all go away. Believe me; if I knew how to erase a memory or wipe a mind clean of undesirable retention, then I would have freed myself from my own history thousands of years ago. It just doesn't work like that. Besides, you're not being accurate in your assessment."
"My assessment of what? And who are you? I think it's time I knew."
"Of yourself Thane. I don't believe you have any idea what you're capable of. I've watched you since the day of your birthing, and have always marveled at your combination of intelligence and physical prowess. Yet nowadays, especially since your parents' death, you've grown . . . well, complacent. You've stopped moving forward Thane. You're not really living anymore. Not like you used to."
"Ahh . . . so you're a giant, funny dressing psychiatrist," Thane whispered with his head bent, thinking only he could hear.
"I'm many things Thane."
"How about telling me some of these things. I don't like being in the dark, and you seem to know an awful lot about me. That kind of gives you an unfair advantage don't you think."
"You're right. Perhaps I am stalling. But who I am is a big story Thane. I've watched you for over twenty-four years now, knowing that this day would come, but it's still not easy for me. I want every word to be perfect, every thought to be clear. It's imperative that I communicate to you a story which at times will seem both conceivable and impossible-a story of such enormous scope that your head will ache just trying to grasp some of the information I give you. And I am going to give it to you Thane. All of it. The truth. You've already been chosen. That part wasn't up to me. I do, however, feel like it's my job to help you understand everything as I know it, as I lived it, as I was taught it. I don't know why it's you Thane Connally, but it is. Perhaps we may even discover why together at some later time. I hope so. First, however, I hope you hear my story without prejudice or pre-conceived notions. Perhaps then you will accept what is fated."
"I'm listening. I mean I'm really listening," Thane stated flatly.
"Good," the great man said as he closed his eyes and stretched some of his lower facial muscles. "You asked me who I am, and now you will know. I was created by the hands of the Father, yet I have lived in hell. I am older than myth. Demons fear me and Angels whisper my name. I am called Armaros, and this is my account."
The Peacock Angel: Rise of the Decarchs Page 27
