by Mark Romang
Banks bit his lip. He wanted to let loose with a triumphant roar, but suppressed it.
Bixby looked over at Jimmy. “Let him have a quick shower and then take him to the cafeteria. If you need me, I’ll be in my office working on reports.”
Jimmy nodded and motioned for Banks to enter the door leading to the showers. Kiefer Bixby left them and stalked down the corridor. Banks let out a deep breath and entered the shower room.
Jimmy placed a hand on Banks’ shoulder. “Go into the fourth dressing stall. You will find a change of clothes there. Undress and put them on. Do not tarry.”
Banks felt warm pinpricks ripple up and down his body. The pinpricks started as soon as the angel laid his hand on Banks’ shoulder.
Banks could hardly breathe as he strode to the fourth stall. His hand shook as he opened the door and entered. He shut the door behind him. Hanging on a hook next to the toilet was a correctional officer’s uniform complete with a cap. Shoes rested atop the toilet tank. The uniform looked exactly like the one Jimmy wore. A UWC patch was sewn over the right pocket on the shirt, a shiny silver badge pinned over the left pocket.
Banks shook his head in shame. His faith in God was so puny, so infantile. There was no reason for him to feel so anxious. Jimmy the angel had every detail all planned out. Banks stripped out of his slippers and orange jumpsuit and put on the UWC officer’s getup. The clothes and cap fit him perfectly. So did the shoes.
He left the stall and joined Jimmy. “What about my jumpsuit? Shouldn’t we dispose of it?”
“What jumpsuit?”
Banks turned his head and looked back toward the dressing stall. The orange jumpsuit he’d discarded in a pile on the floor had vanished. Somehow Jimmy had made the prison attire disappear, or even more amazing, transported it from the physical realm to the spirit realm. “Okay, forget that I ever asked about it.”
“We want it to appear that you are back in your cell. Leaving the jumpsuit there would ruin the scenario.”
“But guards always check my cell. They shine a light into the cell every night to see if I’m there. And tonight they will see that I’m not.”
“Another angel will take your place in the cell, Nathan.”
“Well, I hope this angel doesn’t look like you: tall and golden-haired.”
“He will morph into a human form similar to yours. His hair and skin color will match yours.” Jimmy looked at Banks sternly. His cobalt eyes bore into him. “Wherever we go, walk by my side, Nathan. Make it appear that we are coworkers conversing.”
“What is the plan for leaving this place?”
“It’s simple. We walk out the front door. A whole shift of correctional officers is leaving now. Their shift is over and they’re going home. We will go out with them.”
Only one more question resonated in Banks’ mind. And it was a big question that frightened him too much to ask. Where is my home?
Chapter 34
“You act nervous, Nathan. Try to relax.”
“I am nervous. I’ve never escaped from a prison before,” Banks said under his breath. As they walked down the cellblock, hollow-eyed prisoners reached their scrawny arms through the bars and yelled obscenities at them. Banks tried not to look at them. The skin-and-bones prisoners were so close to death they looked like spirits. Their poor condition made him wonder what he looked like. He hadn’t seen his reflection in several years.
“Only one more cellblock to go. You can do this,” Jimmy said.
Banks watched his angelic rescuer produce a key and unlock an imposing door separating the cellblock from the administrative offices. Jimmy inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the heavy steel door. They entered another long corridor. This corridor contained no cells, just offices and conference rooms. Jimmy shut the steel door behind them. The door made a loud thud as it closed and relocked. Banks took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He tried to ignore the security cameras mounted near the ceiling and recording their movements.
At the far end of this corridor, a gaggle of correctional officers headed for the building’s front exit. Banks had to hand it to Jimmy. His simplistic escape plan was a work of art. No hacksaws or drills, no crawling through ventilation ductwork, no scaling down a wall using a rope made from bed sheets, and no digging through dirt and rock like Edmond Dantes had to do at the Chateau d’lf.
The closer Banks got to the prison’s front doors, the happier he became. He had to fight off a goofy smile from overtaking his face. Confidence at pulling off a prison break arose from his heart like a sunrise over the horizon.
The niggling doubt he had of stumbling into Kiefer Bixby all but faded away. The corridor ended at another door. Jimmy punched in a lengthy and complex numerical combination on a keypad. The door opened on its own.
Up ahead Banks could see twilight through glass exit doors. He and Jimmy walked by a guard seated at a desk. The guard looked up at them sleepily, and gave them only a cursory glance. Their official uniforms gave him no pause.
And then they were outside. The fresh air almost startled Banks when it greeted his face. This was the first time he’d been outside since he came here a little over three years ago.
Banks breathed in the fresh air and savored it. When he finally exhaled his breath vapor swirled up into the crisp air. His eyes welled up. It felt so good to be outside.
“Almost there, Nathan. Now we head for the parking lot.”
Banks looked over at the lot filled with cars. Some of the departing correctional officers were already climbing into their cars. “Which vehicle is yours?”
“The third prisoner transport van on the front row.”
“You drive that ugly van to work every day”
“I never drive, Nathan. I just show up.”
“That makes sense, I guess. But why can’t you just teleport us out of here? You are an angel.”
“If you were a spirit in the spirit realm I could do that. But you are still a mortal, Nathan. And you are governed by the laws of the physical realm.”
Banks nodded. “But not for much longer, right? The seven years will run out in less than three days.”
“No one knows exactly when Christ will return. Only God the Father knows. But I feel you are right. The second coming seems imminent.”
They walked up to the long, white prison van. Jimmy climbed into the driver’s seat. He pushed the seat as far back as he could to accommodate his long legs. Banks climbed into the passenger seat. “I take it you know how to drive?”
Jimmy said nothing and started the vehicle. He backed out of the spot and pulled into a line of departing cars. A minute later they pulled up to a guard hut. Jimmy handed the guard some papers. The guard took several moments to scan the papers. He never even looked at Banks. “Going out to bring in another rebel, huh? If you ask me, they need to execute them faster. We’re already overcrowded.” The guard stamped the papers and handed them back to Jimmy. “Maybe you should have an accident on the way back, if you get what I mean. One less rebel to feed.”
Jimmy didn’t respond and drove off when the guard activated the gate. They traveled down the winding road leaving the prison. And then they turned west onto 154th Street. Soon they merged onto State Route 522 and headed south toward Seattle.
Awkward silence became a third passenger in the van. Banks didn’t know what to say. What do you say to an angel? A few minutes later Banks noticed a glow seeping out from underneath Jimmy’s hands. The steering wheel looked like it had caught flame. “I’m sure you already know this, but your hands are glowing,” he said timidly.
The angel nodded. “It’s not easy hiding my glory. It takes a great deal of concentration.”
“Forgive me for asking, but what is your angel name? Jimmy doesn’t fit you all that well.”
“My name is Trislio.”
Banks watched his traveling companion turn on the van’s headlights. He didn’t think Trislio needed the headlights to see. But he was glad the angel turned them on. Banks wouldn’t
be able to see anything if Trislio hadn’t. Scanning the empty road ahead, Banks couldn’t get over the lack of traffic. The road was eerily deserted. Only sporadic traffic whizzed by them from the oncoming lane. And the towns and suburbs they drove through looked much the same way: dead, deserted, and rundown. Only a few people ventured outside to show themselves.
Planet Earth still orbited the sun, but it looked and acted as if it suffered from a terminal disease.
The whole evening—from the prison break to now—had a Twilight Zone feel to it. Banks kept pinching his arm. Somehow he had to be dreaming this. “So are you my guardian angel?”
Trislio glanced over at him. He nodded his handsome head. “I was your guardian from the moment you left your mother’s womb. But then you reached the age of accountability and made no move to accept Christ’s forgiveness. So I was assigned to guard another child.”
“But now you’re here with me again.”
“Every believer has a guardian angel. When you became a Christ follower I was reassigned to protect you.”
“You’ve been with me for the last three years?”
“Yes, I’ve never left your side.”
“Thank-you. I’m sure I’ve given you difficulties.”
“I’ve had tougher assignments. But don’t thank me, thank Yahweh. He is your true protector. He knows all his sheep by name. And no one can snatch them out of His hand.”
Banks felt his skin crawl with excitement. He and an angel were conversing. While he had the opportunity he wanted to assuage his curiosity. “Do you split your time between Earth and Heaven?”
Trislio shook his head. “I’ve spent the bulk of the last six thousand years on Earth. I only occasionally go back to Heaven. I am a guardian. Those in Heaven don’t need a guardian.”
Banks looked at the dark road ahead. The yellow lane markers had faded badly. The road needed resurfacing. Trislio did a good job of dodging the potholes. “You must miss Heaven a great deal.”
“I do miss my heavenly home. But serving the Lord gives me great satisfaction. Someday I will spend eternity in Heaven, as will you. I can wait until then.”
“So I can tell we’re headed toward Seattle. But where exactly are you taking me? And what am I supposed to do there?”
“I am taking you downtown. You must be very careful not to get caught. I advise you to spend your days in the storm drains and sewers. Once the sun sets you can venture out. There are plenty of abandoned buildings all over the city. But don’t go in them. The buildings are traps. The UWC check them on their rounds.” Trislio paused. “I cannot tell you everything you will do. But your primary assignment is to comfort Brooke Mason.”
“Brooke Mason, the sister of Tanner and C.J. Mason?”
Trislio nodded.
“Why does Brooke need comforting? And why would they leave the peninsula to come here. The goldmine is a perfect hiding spot.”
“They were discovered. UWC officers apprehended Tanner. He is slated for execution. C.J. and Brooke are coming to Seattle to try and rescue him.”
The good vibes Banks had been reveling in since leaving the prison, exited the van. The terrible news struck him hard. Somehow Banks had avoided an execution these past three years. But it sounded like Tanner wouldn’t be so lucky. It didn’t seem fair. But then life never picks favorites. “That’s horrible news. But how can I comfort Brooke?”
Trislio looked at him oddly. Banks shivered. The angel’s eyes were so blue and penetrating. “Brooke loves you. I believe you are to love her back.”
Banks thought about that. Seven years ago he’d been happily married to his wife Jenny. But then the Rapture happened and split them apart. Then he met Brooke, who he felt a strong attraction for. For the past three years he’d thought of Brooke almost daily, much more than Jenny. It was an odd situation. Banks didn’t know if his marriage vows still held up or not. He vowed to love Jenny till death did them apart. But his vows didn’t contain anything about the Rapture.
Banks lifted his left hand and showed his wedding ring to Trislio. “Um, I don’t think God would approve. I’m married to a woman named Jenny. She was caught up in the Rapture.”
“You are no longer bound to your marriage vows. Jenny is a saint. She is an immortal. She can longer give herself in marriage.”
The angel’s words left Banks feeling torn. Jenny had been an incredible woman. They’d shared an amazing relationship, albeit a short one. But you heard what Trislio said. Maybe it’s time you say goodbye to Jenny.
Banks pondered Trislio’s words. He allowed them to sink in and resonate. So much had changed in the past seven years, including him. He was no longer the same person.
The trip from Monroe to Seattle takes about 41 minutes. Their 41 minutes had just about expired. Trislio merged onto Highway 5 and headed for downtown. Banks set his gaze on the Space Needle in the distance. The Needle was all lit up and glittered like a jewel against the night sky. Unlike other landmarks, the iconic skyscraper looked the same to him.
He could only imagine what the waterfront was like. Shops and countless eateries lined the bustling waterfront. Banks doubted that they were still in business. Who wanted to stroll along the piers when the water was blood-red and emitted a foul stench? Certainly not me. And Pike Place Fish Company, one of his most favorite places in the world? It had to be defunct. Fish and seafood could no longer be harvested because of the contaminated oceans.
Banks rotated his right arm. He rubbed his wrist. He could feel the RFID chip underneath his skin. He looked over at Trislio. “I want to cut the chip out. I don’t want it in me when Jesus comes back. And besides that, I can be tracked. I don’t stand a chance at evading those searching for me.”
If I was you I would refrain from performing surgery on yourself. Your chip was placed in a delicate area. You might bleed to death.”
“Brooke is a nurse, or I should say, was a nurse. Maybe she could remove it for me,” Banks said.
Trislio nodded. “Yes, Brooke is more qualified than you.”
“You don’t think God will hold it against me because I have the marking chip, do you? I never consented to accepting the chip. I was drugged, and when I was unconscious, someone implanted the chip in me.”
Trislio said nothing for a long moment. “You couldn’t help what they did. And I have never seen you bow down and worship Henrik Skymolt’s image. But have you ever done it silently in your mind?”
Banks shook his head vigorously. “Never. And that’s why they put me in solitary in the first place, and left me there. I kept refusing to worship Skymolt’s image.”
“You have done well to this point, Nathan. Continue to worship only the Lord. For God is a jealous God.”
Banks peered out his window. They’d reached the downtown area. He swallowed hard. The decline overwhelmed him. Busted windows, piled-up trash, and vacant buildings served as testaments to the poor leadership doled out by Henrik Skymolt’s worldwide dictatorship.
Trislio turned onto Pine Street, the traffic here almost nonexistent. They quickly neared Westlake Park. Banks could see the carousel all illuminated. The garishly painted horses bobbed up and down, but no one rode them. It made him wonder where all the people had gone. He had never seen the city so empty.
He was a little confused. The carousel used to only come out right before Christmas and stay up for the holiday season. But then he suddenly figured it out. The world doesn’t celebrate Christmas anymore. That’s why the carousel is still up.
Trislio pushed a button on the dashboard. The Plexiglas partition behind them disappeared into a track. “There is a satchel hanging on a hook in the back. Please retrieve it.”
Banks unfastened his seatbelt. He left his seat and entered the prisoner area. He found the satchel hanging from a hook as Trislio mentioned. He took the bag down and examined it. The satchel was about as large as a small backpack and appeared to be made from a tanned animal hide. Banks returned with the satchel to his seat. “Okay, I got it.”
“You will find items in the satchel that will help you. Use them wisely. One item is a schematic of the storm drains. Until you can remove the chip, you need to go underground. Put as much concrete and rebar over your head as you can.” Trislio turned down 3rd Street. He pulled into a city parking lot and stopped the van. “This is where you get out, Nathan. You won’t see me like you do now. But I’ll be close by.”
Banks placed his hand on the door latch. “Where do I meet up with C.J. and Brooke?”
“Myrtle Edwards Park. Be there around 3:00 AM tomorrow morning.”
Banks nodded. “I will be there. Thank you for helping me, Trislio.” Banks opened his door and climbed out. As he shut the door he saw an intense light—every bit as dazzling as a lightning bolt—begin to fill the van’s interior. Banks shrank back in terror and hid his eyes. He heard the van pull away and enter the street.
Banks mustered his courage and looked up just in time to see the prisoner van vaporize into the night air. One moment the van was there, the next it disappeared like it never even existed. He stood there on wobbly knees, a bit shell-shocked. But then Trislio’s warning to go underground shook him from his trance. Have to get moving, he thought.
His head on a swivel, Banks left the parking lot. He walked at a fast clip, a destination in mind.
Chapter 35
Tel Aviv, Israel
“You should be used to it by now, Vito,” Henrik Skymolt said. “I’ve allowed you access to all my kingdom. You’ve been given privileges no one else on Earth has. And yet you still blubber like a baby whenever Zarkien visits me. Please pull yourself together.”
Vito Abbadelli’s pudgy face turned red with embarrassment. He straightened up in his chair. “My Lord, I appreciate everything you have honored me with, the riches and esteem, and especially the power to perform illusions. But I wish you would take away one honor. I no longer want to see the spirit world. Your demons terrify me. And when you leave your host body I nearly faint from fright.”