Chris was watching the interchange with some confusion. Why would Anna's grandson be worried about her safety, especially from him? He knew how small and nonthreatening he was. He hated it, but he knew.
With a heavy, slightly dramatic sigh, Johnny nodded heavily. “You know best, grandmother,” he said and left the room. The judge winked at Anna who laughed silently and then he followed the large man from the room.
“Lock the door, would you please?” Anna asked Chris. He nodded, walked over and turned the heavy bolt. It made a loud snapping sound.
“Now, come over and take a seat, Christopher. Let's not stand on ceremony.”
Chris sat down and Anna rolled her chair over until she was positioned across from him, about four feet away. At this distance, Chris thought he smelled something like flowers and woodsmoke in equal measure. He liked it. She smiled reassuringly.
“Don't be nervous, young man. This so-called test is quite simple. Now, I'm sure that Ethan has mentioned why we are all gathered together here in this house, correct?”
“Yes, ma'am,” Chris said. He was more than a little intimidated by this old woman. She had an air of command that he hadn't encountered before, even with the judge. But he also trusted her instinctively. And he'd come to trust his instincts on the street. They had saved him more than once in the last few years.
“He mentioned angel souls? And the end of the world. It's all a bit confusing, and hard to believe.”
“Yes, of course it would be.” Anna settled herself slightly in her chair and pushed the box on her lap forward slightly so that she could rest her arms on it comfortably. Chris glanced at the box and then at Anna, who smiled. “Yes, the box is important, Christopher. But ignore it for the moment.” She paused as if gathering her thoughts. “Ethan and his ancestors aren't the only ones who can read signs. My people, and others around the world, have been seeing portents of the coming storm for generations. I tell you this in the hopes that you will understand that this is not some oddball belief by a small group of people. Rather, it is well-known, widespread and expected.”
Chris was taken aback by Anna's intense tone. She really believes this stuff, he thought. Her rheumy eyes were fixed on his with an razor-sharp look that the cataracts could not contain.
“Okay, I understand that you and the judge and, I guess, a bunch of other people think that the end of the world is coming. I dunno if that's true but fine. But angels being born inside humans? Why would you believe that? And why would they be?”
Anna smiled again. “Good questions, young man. I appreciate your intelligence. I think I like you, Christopher Wright.”
Her bald statement caught Chris off-guard. “Um, thanks?” he replied feebly. Anna laughed heartily, sounding much younger and stronger than she appeared.
“You are welcome, Christopher. I don't like many people, at least not until I get to know them well. But you? Yes, I like you. Now, the reason that angels, or spirits if you wish to call them that, are coming into the mortal plane is a very deep question. It is one that has garnered much talk amongst those of us who believe in the signs and portents.” She settled back into her chair again, sighing deeply. “My belief, and I think that Ethan feels as I do, is that we have reached a tipping point in the war between good and evil.”
“Tipping point? I don't understand.”
“The concept is simple enough, Christopher. Good and evil have fought over the souls of mankind since the beginning. Evil wishes to enslave and reap the souls of humanity. Good has fought back, trying to maintain a balance that allows humans to choose their own path, no matter where it leads. We believe that evil now has the upper hand. They have tipped the balance, so to speak, and are ready for all out war.”
Chris gaped at Anna. All out war? So that's why they kept talking about Armageddon. But why would they think that would happen now? He asked Anna that question.
“Think about all that has happened to the world in the last hundred years or so, young man. Two world wars. Genocide. Small countries constantly in battle with each other. Hatred based on race or religion or politics. There has never been a bloodier period in all of human history. And now the world has two things that will entice evil more than anything else: over seven billion souls for the taking and weapons of mass destruction that could be used to reap those souls. It is enough to tempt the devil himself. Which we believe it has.”
“And why are angels being born in human bodies?”
“What else could fight a demon? Humans can only do so much. Only the greatest force for good can battle the greatest forces of evil. God is making his last throw to save the human race. We are blessed, although it may have come too late. But this is humanity's world, young man. And so, humans must lead the way. The angelic souls are bound within the mortal body and are at the command of the human that they are a part of.” She indicated the box on her lap. “And so we come to the test, Christopher. We believe that your soul is that of an angel. Your powers all point to it. But there is only one way to force an angelic soul to reveal itself. And that is by confronting it with great evil.”
Chris stared at the box in apprehension. He had had a bad feeling from the simple-looking thing since Anna had entered the room. It made him uncomfortable, squirmy; like an itch that he couldn't quite scratch. He watched as she slid her hands down to the front of the box. There was a sturdy metal clasp holding the lid closed. Chris stood up abruptly and backed away from Anna, almost knocking his chair over in his haste.
Anna stared at him in surprise. “What is it, Christopher?”
He pointed a shaking finger at the box. “It's that thing. I...I don't like it, Anna. Please don't open it. I have a bad feeling about it.”
“Now, now, young man. Don't worry. I've used this box in several tests. It's perfectly safe. It won't harm you.”
“No, no. It's not me I'm worried about!” Chris was almost babbling. “It's not me, it's you. I'm afraid of what will happen to you if you open it.”
Anna chuckled. “I'm not afraid of the contents of this box, Christopher. Trust me.” And she slipped the clasp open and lifted the lid.
“No! Don't! You can't...” But it was too late.
Chapter 10
Whatever was in the box caused a wave of nausea to course through Chris' body. He wanted to vomit, but the feeling was swept away by a red-hot fury that suddenly burned in his mind. Blind, primeval hatred. Revulsion. A desire to strike out, destroy. And then Chris was no longer in control of his body. It was as if he was pushed aside, a mere observer of events. He was mute and helpless, just watching in terror.
The room was blazing with a blinding silver light. Instead of staring almost eye to eye with the seated Anna, Chris was towering over her; staring down at her as though he was suddenly twelve feet tall. From over his shoulders he heard a heavy flapping. Wings? He had no way to look but somehow managed to get a glimpse of his torso as he stared at Anna.
He was wearing armor; thick, heavy iron armor. It looked dented and rusted but it glowed a dull red, as though it had just been pulled from a forge. And then there was a voice, but it wasn't his. It was deep and hollow, as if it rolled up from the ground, and the sound shook the room so that Anna grabbed the sides of her chair to keep from falling out.
“Unclean!” roared the horrific voice. “Accursed before God! You dare bring that abomination into my presence?” And suddenly Chris saw two massive hands, clenched tightly. They swung up and over his head. Oh no, he thought. She'll be crushed! Close the lid, he wanted to scream. Close the lid on that damned box.
Anna was staring in shock at the figure that towered over her. Over the echoes of the terrible voice, Chris thought he heard someone pounding on the door, trying to break in. Anna tore her eyes away from whatever she was seeing and fumbled with the box, trying to get it closed. Chris felt the massive arms swinging down, the fists passed into his field of vision. Stop it, he yelled inside of his head. He couldn't even look away. And just as she was about to be smashed
to a pulp, Anna slammed the lid shut and slid the clasp home.
Chris was suddenly kneeling on the floor in front of Anna. He fell forward on to his hands trying not to throw up. The door smashed open and Anna's grandson leaped into the room, followed closely by the judge and Martin. Without a moments hesitation, the huge man ran straight at Chris, obviously thinking he was a threat.
“Johnny, stop! Do not harm him!” Anna's order caught Johnny in mid-stride and he almost fell over as he skidded to a stop. “I'm not hurt, grandson,” she continued, her voice strained and quivering. “Chris is not at fault here.”
Full of concern, Johnny hurried over and checked to see that Anna was all right. She pushed him away gently.
“Don't fuss. I said I'm fine.”
“What happened, Anna?” Judge Hawkes asked. He was very pale and kept looking at Anna and then back at Chris.
She shook her head in seeming disbelief. “What we never dreamed would happen, Ethan. I can barely believe it myself and I saw it with my own eyes.”
Chris sat back on his heels, breathing heavily. The nausea had passed but he felt exhausted, as if he had just run flat out for a mile. He listened closely to what was being said, but he didn't know what was going on.
“He has the soul of an angel, Grandmother?” Johnny asked as he looked at Chris dubiously.
Anna shook her head. “No, not an angel,” she said faintly. Chris felt a moment of despair. So what the hell had just happened?
“What then, Anna?” the judge asked. Chris wondered if he heard suspicion in the judge's tone.
“Something far more terrible and glorious. He has the soul of an archangel.”
The room grew quiet. Chris stared at the old woman. A what, he wondered.
“”Are you sure, Anna?” The judge sounded both awed and excited. “We never dreamed that Heaven would allow such a powerful being to enter this world.”
“Didn't you hear him, Ethan?” She asked, now sounding faintly amused. “I have never seen one, even in visions. But I know what it was.” She turned to looked at Chris. “I hope you are all right, Christopher?” she asked. Chris just nodded. He was too tired to even speak. “Good. You see, what normally happens during the test is just a revulsion, a sickening feeling from the person exposed to the contents of the box.” She patted its lid.
Chris found the strength to murmur “But what's inside there?”
“It's an ancient relic, Christopher,” the judge answered instead of Anna. “My ancestor discovered it in his travels, buried in a hidden crypt deep underground. We believe it is the claw of a demon.” At Chris' look, the judge nodded. “Yes, a real, physical demon. Before such a thing, an angel cannot help but react. We didn't realize that an archangel would be so powerful in his reaction.” The judge paused and then added ruefully, “Of course, we never believed that the soul of an archangel would be born on Earth at all, so I suppose we can't really be blamed for our carelessness.”
The judge walked over and gently helped Chris to his feet. Chris swayed for a moment and the man steadied him until he could stand on his own. “I'm okay now, sir,” Chris said a little more strongly. He was embarrassed by his weakness but the judge just looked at him with understanding and patted him gently on the shoulder.
“Sit down, Christopher. Take a few minutes to recover.” He turned to look at Anna. “Are you sure you're fine, Anna?” he asked a bit anxiously. She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Of course I am. Really, Ethan. I'm not the important one here. See to your charge, judge. He's the one we need to be concerned about.”
Anna's grandson rolled her chair over until she was sitting next to Chris. He looked at her a bit apprehensively. He was worried about what she might think of him after what had just happened. Her tone was reassuring though.
“Be at ease, young man. I am well aware that you had no control over that event.” She reached out and patted him gently. He returned her smile gratefully. Anna then looked back at the judge, seemingly a bit puzzled and perhaps worried.
“As I said, I have never seen an archangel before; no one has. But there was something wrong with the figure I saw.” She rubbed her palms across the box on her lap. “It was...twisted. Broken. I couldn't see very well through the light that blasted from his face, but the wings were wrong.” She glanced at Chris, looking sad for some reason. “ One of them was...crippled? Twisted?” She shook her head. “Something wasn't right. That's all I could see.”
The judge looked confused. Chris had never seen that look on his face before.
“Twisted? Crippled?” The judge sat forward and looked down at the floor. He was quiet for a moment. “No,” he said. “That's a new one on me. The only maimed angel I've ever heard of was...” He and Anna exchanged looks.
“The Angel of the Morning,” she whispered and covered her mouth in shock.
“No!” Judge Hawkes said emphatically. “It is not him. He is buried deep and will not dare to enter this world until the end is near, if then.”
Chris looked between the two of them. “The Angel of the Morning? Wait. Why does that sound familiar?” He thought perhaps he'd heard his father mention that title before but he wasn't sure.
“That was the original name of the devil, Christopher,” the judge said quietly. “He was an archangel before God cast him out. Now he is our adversary, the cause of this march toward Armageddon. The story is that he was crippled in some way before he fell, but the details are hazy at best. Supposition and guess-work mainly.”
Chris' eyes widened. “The devil? Wait a second.” He looked at Anna. “You think I have Satan inside me?”
She shook her head firmly. “Of course not, young man. I said the only one I had heard of was...that demon. But that doesn't mean there weren't others. Angels are, after all, the soldiers of God. And the archangels are his generals. In their battles against evil, surely many have endured injuries that perhaps even God's power cannot heal. How can we know?”
Chris sat back, feeling a little relieved.
“We know so little about them, even now that they have arrived to help us,” the judge said with frustration in his voice. “Tales from revelations made by seers and prophets? How many are mere fantasy? Or the products of delusional minds?” He stood up abruptly and everyone stared at him in surprise.
“We must do better!” the judge exclaimed. “If Christopher does indeed carry the soul of an archangel inside of him, we have to know all there is to know about them, speculation or not.” He looked over at his assistant. “Martin, call our sources. Get our researchers on this. I want all material on archangels collated and on my desk by tomorrow morning.”
As Martin started to protest, the judge cut him off. “Yes, I know it's asking a lot in a short time. But that is the point; time is short. An archangel, Martin. Think of the ramifications.”
Martin nodded. “Yes, of course, your honor. I will contact them immediately. We'll get everything available to you as soon as possible.” He started to walk to the door.
“Tomorrow morning, Martin,” the judge said firmly.
Martin sighed but kept walking. “Yes sir. Tomorrow morning.” He left the room and closed the door behind him.
“Now, Anna,” the judge said and knelt down beside her chair. “Fine or not, you've had a shock. I'd like you to get some rest. Your usual room is prepared for you and you know you need only call the front desk if you need anything.”
Anna looked like she was about to protest but then nodded wearily. “Perhaps you're right, Ethan. I need to sort out everything that's happened anyway.” Johnny looked relieved as he approached Anna's chair. She looked at Chris with a strangely gentle expression.
“I think our young friend could use some rest as well.” She reached out a hand and Chris quickly took it in both of his. “Christopher, I foresee a long road ahead of you, and a hard one. But you have friends here now. And I count myself among them. Remember that.” She patted his hands and smiled.
Chris felt himself blu
shing but smiled in return. “Thank you, ma'am,” he said gratefully. “I'll remember.”
With that, Johnny turned Anna's chair and headed for the door. Before they left, the large man looked back at Chris and, for the first time, smiled slightly at him. Chris felt a rush of relief as he returned the gesture. The big man made him a bit nervous.
Judge Hawkes returned to his chair behind the desk and sat down. “Anna made a good point, Christopher. You look a little done in. Maybe you should go to your room and get some rest.”
Chris was going to argue but then he stood up again and a wave of exhaustion flooded over him. “Um, yeah. I think you're right, sir. If you need me for anything though, just call me.”
“Why, thank you,” the judge said. “We'll have a lot to talk about tomorrow, I'm sure. Once those notes come in and I go through them, I'll want to discuss them with you. You need this information as much as we do. Until then, good evening, Christopher.”
“Night, sir” Chris replied and slowly left the office.
He staggered back to his room. Once inside, Chris locked the door behind him and made his way into the bedroom. He had just enough strength left to take off his shoes and then he collapsed on to the bed and sank into a deep, dark pit of sleep.
Chris didn't know how long he'd been sleeping, but he woke up sprawled on his bed in the pitch darkness. He groped around until he found the lamp beside the bed and switched it on. He pulled his cell phone from the charger and checked the time. Three o'clock. He was sure that he hadn't slept enough but he was wide awake now and hungry. Maybe a quick trip down to the kitchen? Chef said he didn't mind late night snacks as long as the dishes were put away in the dishwasher. Chris' mouth watered suddenly as he wondered if there was any of the banana cream pie left that Chef had made for dessert. He stood up quickly and grabbed his shoes.
Out in the hallway, he turned left and headed for the kitchen. It seemed a bit strange that he didn't run into any of the inside guards, but he didn't pay too much attention to this. After all, there had been nights where he'd snuck down to the kitchen and had only seen one or two people in the distance, usually walking across a connecting corridor.
Confronting the Fallen Page 10