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The Complete Archangel Wars Series: A Shared Universe Series (The Archangel Wars)

Page 7

by Jonathan Yanez


  “Don’t be scared, he’s on our side.”

  Alan looked back at Danielle with every intention of lying and telling her he wasn’t scared. Instead, he asked, “Is Michael a … a … ” He was still having a hard time bringing himself to say the word.

  “Yes, but it’s not like he looks any different from you or me.”

  Alan nodded, gathered his courage, and opened the door. It was a short walk up the stone steps and into the large, ground floor, where a security desk was stationed at the front, with long rows of elevators set on side of the wide room.

  Alan tensed. The building looked too much like the one the wind had pushed him off the first night he learned he had abilities.

  Alan forced his legs forward while people walked to and from the elevators. Most of the building’s inhabitants wore trendy suits. All but a few were busy, either talking on their phone or looking down at handheld devices.

  Alan entered an elevator clogged with suits and briefcases. There were 107 floors, and to Alan’s frustration, it seemed the elevator was set on making him visit each and every one. The ride up gave him time to think about what he’d just seen and what he was doing. I can’t believe she healed me like that. This is so far beyond what I thought was possible. But really, what did I expect? I can run at the speed of sound. If someone came to me and told me that I was an alien or a mutant, would that make more sense? Would I accept that?

  Alan struggled with these thoughts and more as the steel box passed floor after floor. After what seemed like an eternity of bad elevator music, Alan reached the building’s top story. At that point, he was the only passenger riding the elevator.

  The doors dinged open and Alan found himself walking down a quiet, well-kept hallway. No sound, no chatter of voices on phones or clicks of shoes on the wooden floor—nothing.

  Alan walked down the hall, passing empty office after empty office, looking for the stairwell that would lead him to the roof. After peeking in and out of a few empty offices, he found the door he needed, which was marked with the figure of a small man walking up a set of stairs.

  Alan opened the exit and made his way up the last two flights to the rooftop entrance. He placed a hesitant palm on the long, silver latch, took a deep breath, then walked outside. Compared to the inside of the stairwell, it was bright, and Alan blinked to get his eyes used to the sun’s harsh rays. No wind pressed against him, ushering him to yet another descent to the street below, and for that he was thankful. Already the building reminded him enough of the one he’d fallen off of four years ago. Last thing he needed was to be tossed around by the wind again.

  Eyes adjusted, Alan looked around. It was a forest of air conditioning pipes and vents. Every few feet, another metal outlet or steel-topped pipe rose up from the rooftop. Then Alan spotted what his brain told him couldn’t be possible. He blinked and squinted against his rational thought process, but it was still there: a large, brown desk.

  Alan slowly put one foot in front of the other, looking down only for the briefest of moments to make sure of his footing. He was afraid if he took his eyes off the desk, it would disappear.

  As he got closer, the rough image of the desk took on more shape. It wasn’t just any desk; it was a large, dark brown, wooden desk with gold drawings. The pictures were amazing. Images of clouds, stars, and planets played across the desktop as if they were in motion, and behind the desk, a high-backed chair faced away from Alan.

  Alan reached the desk and stared as the chair slowly turned to reveal a middle-aged man with wavy brown hair. His eyes spoke of wisdom as he stood and extended a hand. “Hello, Mr. Price. It’s so good to finally meet you.”

  Alan’s mouth was dry. Not only was he talking to someone sitting at a desk on a rooftop, but the man who now extended a hand was also clearly not of this world. Alan forced his right palm forward and shook the stranger’s hand.

  “My name is Michael. Danielle briefly told me that you are skeptical. That’s to be expected. I know it’s a lot to take in. Please, sit.”

  Michael’s handshake was firm without being aggressive; the complete opposite feeling from when Alan met Dominic Drencher the night before.

  Alan broke the handshake. “Sit? Sit where?” The question faded almost down to a whisper as Alan looked behind him to see a chair where there had not been one just moments before. He twisted his head back toward Michael, giving him a wary look.

  Michael smiled from his eyes to his mouth. “Sorry, too soon? I couldn’t resist. You should see the look on your face right now. Please, sit. I have your answers for you.”

  Alan nodded and settled into the comfortable leather chair.

  “I’ll start at the beginning for you, Alan,” Michael said as he, too, took a seat. He leaned forward with both elbows on the desk, hands clasped together. A hint of mirth in his green eyes said he could be trusted. “After that, if you have any questions, I’d love to answer them all. Would you like to hear the story with effects or without effects?”

  Alan felt his eyebrows furrow all on their own. “With effects, I think.”

  “A man after my own heart.” Michael winked. “Here we go.”

  Out of nowhere, the sun’s bright rays faded. In seconds, the sky turned black and everything fell away. All that remained were Michael, Alan, the desk, and the chairs on which they sat. Fear began to creep slowly down Alan’s spine; his heart started beating faster and faster. He looked at Michael to see the man still smiling and now pointing to the dark sky.

  As Michael again picked up the conversation, images made out of golden outlines followed events that he described, performing like trained dancers across the dark sky. Alan’s mouth dropped, eyes fixated on the beautiful scene playing out overhead as Michael started his story. “I’m going to date myself here, but a very, very long time ago, when the Earth was still young, a battle took place in Heaven. The battle waged for the fate of both angels and man. One third of Heaven’s angels sided with a usurper who staged a coup for the rule of Heaven and Earth. He was mad with thoughts of grandeur and power.

  “The fighting was beyond bloody; it was horrific. The death toll for both sides surpassed the total of survivors of the engagement. The war went on for years. Finally, the power-hungry angel was defeated. He was cast out of Heaven with the rest of his followers, who were stripped of their wings and sentenced to wait their final judgment on Earth.”

  Alan stared at the open sky as images following Michael’s words continued to play out overhead. He wanted to smile in awe, and probably would have, had the circumstances of the supernatural light show been under any other condition. Instead, Alan held his lower jaw firm and contented himself with tracking the amazing bright lights acting out scenes of the forgotten past.

  “To ensure that casualties of this magnitude could never happen again,” Michael continued, “all weapons capable of killing an angel were destroyed. My brothers, sisters, and I now watch over Earth. The Creator has not abandoned humankind to live under the rule of the Fallen.

  “With inferior numbers and strength, the Fallen on Earth will not engage us directly. In return, we are content for them to live out their sentence quietly here on Earth, until their day of judgment comes.

  “However, just because they won’t defy us directly, doesn’t mean our troubles are finished. Over the centuries, tactics have changed. The Fallen have found their own followers to do their bidding. They have given certain powers and abilities to humans whom they manipulate to do their will. It’s a loophole they have found to avoid physical conflict while still getting what they want.”

  Michael paused here as the scenes in the sky faded and the darkness regressed. In seconds, the sun was out again, and Alan felt himself breathing a bit easier. “They thought they were so smart. Little did they know that we are capable of the exact same thing. So now, instead of a full-out war, we are playing out a kind of shadow game on Earth. The Fallen have their wayward followers, and we have those whom we have chosen to represent us in this col
d war.”

  Michael leaned back in his chair with his arms open. “So, there it is, as honest and as plain as I can put it. You have the truth. Now, feel free to ask any questions I’m sure you have.”

  Alan’s mind was blown. Dozens of questions were pushing to the front of his mind while he struggled to accept his new reality. The question that came out first was the one he’d wondered about since the first night he knew he was different. It was short and simple, but one that had haunted him for the past four years. “Why me?”

  Michael nodded as though he was aware it would be Alan’s first question. “You need us. You need us as much as we need you. We saw an opportunity to help each other.”

  Alan slowly shook his head. “But my depression, the anger I feel, the—”

  “All reasons we’d chosen you.” Alan’s confusion must have shown, because Michael continued. “Think about it, Alan. You battle with depression and loneliness. You were bullied, beat up, and abandoned, and yet here you stand. Here you are, still living and breathing, as strong as ever. What you have thought of as your weaknesses your entire life has made you stronger, Alan. The battles you fight day in and day out have forged your will into something few people possess.”

  Alan laughed to himself. “It doesn’t feel like a blessing.”

  “Regardless, it has made you stronger than the people beside you who don’t battle with these issues.”

  Alan slowly nodded, letting the new information sink in before he asked his second question. “Are there others like myself and Danielle?”

  It was Michael’s turn to nod. “Yes, a select few spread across the globe. It is an honor to be chosen. Very few are or will be. We select from where the need is the greatest, where the Fallen have chosen to actively recruit.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “For now, we need you to learn and train. Speed is just the first of the many gifts you have at your disposal.”

  Alan remembered the beating he endured at the hands of Dominic Drencher. “Strength is another one and—” Alan was reminded of the first night he found out he was different. “Flight?”

  Michael shook his head. “No, unfortunately not flight—I mean, it is very unlikely for a human with our powers to be able to fly. That ability has been reserved for angels. No human has been able to do it before.”

  “Then how did I…” Alan realized the answer to his question even as he asked. He looked at Michael with newfound respect. “It was you, wasn’t it? You saved me that first night.”

  Michael shrugged. “Everyone needs a helping hand. Besides, you didn’t jump. The wind pushed you. Even then, whether you knew it or not, you were fighting to survive. You are a survivor, Alan.” A sly smile spread across Michael’s lips, showing perfectly white teeth. “I’m proud of you, despite the places you’d chosen to borrow from—banks, grocery stores, clothing departments, malls, outlets, car dealerships, amusement parks, gas stations, and zoos. Really? Alan, a zoo?”

  Color rushed to Alan’s face, and as if on cue, he felt his palms begin to sweat. “Oh, I … uh. I—” He felt as though he’d been called into the principal’s office on a celestial level.

  “It’s okay,” Michael said. “I wished you would have found your way on your own, but nobody’s perfect. Just reassure me that your thieving days are over.”

  Alan swallowed and nodded. “And for what it’s worth, I returned that monkey back to the zoo.”

  Michael started to laugh. “Yes, I know you did. I’ve been keeping my eye on you.”

  A comfortable silence followed as Alan worked through this new revelation on his own.

  “That’s it?” Michael asked. “No more questions?”

  “Besides training, what do you want from me? What am I training for?”

  The smile slowly disappeared from Michael’s lips. “I wish I knew, Alan. Something is happening; an extra coldness to the night, the darkness coming just a little bit sooner and lasting a few minutes longer. The Fallen have increased their activity, and their followers’ numbers are swelling. Something is coming down the pipeline. Rumors are spreading; talk of some kind of forgotten demonic leader is preparing to return to power is making its way to our ears. Whatever it is we would like you and Danielle to be ready for it when it comes.”

  “And the Fallen? What if—”

  “No, you don’t have to fear them. They haven’t made an attempt at open war on us or one of our chosen since the conflict in Heaven. They know they don’t have a chance. You only have to worry about the humans they have corrupted, like Dominic Drencher. Danielle will have more information for you and certain tools you’ll be able to use to keep you safe. Trust me, once you tap into your full potential, people like Drencher won’t be bothering you.”

  Alan sat quiet. Everything—all of the questions he’d wondered for the past four years were slowly being answered. Far from the answers he’d expected, but still answers.

  “You are not alone, Alan. You never were. Take some time to adjust to the truth. Danielle is assigned as your support. She can answer any other questions you have. And I am always available to you, as well.”

  Alan stood, sensing an end to their meeting. He felt numb from the crown of his head to the bottom of his feet, still trying to process the twist on history and draw connections to how his life would continue.

  Michael extended a hand. Alan took it as Michael made eye contact. “I’ve been around for quite a long time. There are just some things I know. I know you’re stronger than you think you are, Alan. Trust me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “How’d it go?”

  Alan took a moment to gather his thoughts as he closed the car door behind him. He sat silent for a moment, staring at the grey car dash before answering.

  “Oh my gosh, you’re in shock! Alan, Alan, are you okay?” Danielle turned to him and placed a hand on his arm. Her eyes were huge as she searched for an answer on his blank face.

  “I’m not in shock. I’m fine. I mean, as fine as I can be after having a heart-to-heart with an angel.”

  “Archangel.”

  “What?”

  “Michael is an Archangel. He’s like the boss of all the angels. I just kinda left that part out. I figured you had enough on your plate. You should probably start reading up on this stuff.”

  Alan raised an eyebrow in Danielle’s direction and noticed she still had her hand on his arm. Danielle must have noticed it at the same time, because she retracted her arm as if she’d been burned. “Oh, sorry. Um… So yeah, crazy stuff, right? I remember when I was first told the truth.”

  Danielle pulled into the busy midday traffic and headed back toward Alan’s penthouse. “So, first things first. We’ll go to your place and gather your things. Since they know where you live now, it won’t be safe there anymore.”

  At Danielle’s words, Alan was woken up from his daze. “Wait a minute, I’m moving? Where?”

  “Yep, we can’t have you stay at your penthouse anymore. You’ll move in with me, into the facility the Organization has provided for us. It’s pretty cool, lots of—”

  “You’re still going to call them ‘the Organization,’ even though I know they’re angels and I’ve talked to Michael?”

  Danielle shrugged as she switched lanes. “Why not? Unless you can think of another name we can safely use in public without drawing attention. And it’s really not that far from the truth; they are a kind of celestial organization.”

  Alan had to admit she had a point. They couldn’t go around talking about angels and demons in public, at least not without a fair amount of stares. “What are we called now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yeah, we have angels, who are apparently real and our employers, and the Fallen are demons. But what are the humans, who’ve entered this war on both sides, called?”

  “Nephilim.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “The technical term for us would be Nephilim. We refer to those re
cruited by the Fallen as dark or demonic Nephilim. It’s a Hebrew term. Depending on what translation you believe, it either describes the combination of angels and humans, or giants among men. I mean, it’s not a perfect translation, since we aren’t half-breeds or ogres, but it’s the closest word we have. You know the saying, ‘When you have oranges.’”

  “I don’t think you’re saying that right.”

  “Of course I am. When you have oranges, make orange juice.”

  “It’s lemons.”

  Danielle turned from the road and fixed Alan with a stubborn look, realizing she was wrong but not willing to admit defeat. “Let’s agree to disagree, Alan.”

  Alan let out a deep breath as he stared out the window. Danielle’s insistence wasn’t bothering him, not after his conversation with Michael. Life would never be the same. He looked at unsuspecting people walking to and from stores. He saw hands hailing cabs, drivers tuning radios and talking on cell phones. They had no idea what was really going on, and now that Alan did, life for him would only become stranger.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Don’t worry about packing things like a toothbrush or shampoo. We have all of that,” Danielle said as she wandered around Alan’s penthouse. “Sweet place, by the way. You really went all out with that stolen money thing.”

  Alan was in his room, throwing clothes into a dark duffel bag. He smirked as he was reminded of how he’d thrown money into that same bag years before. Then a thought crossed his mind. “Danielle?” he said over his shoulder as he tossed another pair of jeans and socks into his bag.

  Danielle popped her head into his room. “You have a home gym and a library?”

  Alan looked up at her and smiled. “Yep. Lifting and reading—two great things to do to pass the time when you’re a loner. Hey, I’ve been wondering about something. What about all the money I took?”

  “What about it?”

 

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