by Steven Swaks
Valaxahr stood at the top of the mountain, high above the accident scene. Two dozen reptilian dogs sat next to him, drooling jaws snapping in anticipation. Valaxahr smiled. He truly liked his victim. She was a real fighter.
There was no rush. He enjoyed the spectacle of humans trying to save a life, but he did not understand what the point was. There was another seven billion of them. What difference would one life make? The concept in itself was so strange, almost ludicrous. They should thank him for the clearing effort, even if one less wouldn’t make a difference. By the time she died, another five humans would enter this overcrowded world. In that sense, wars were marvelous. They were even better than a single disaster. Wars unleashed the human potential for hatred and devastation. In this logic, the early twentieth century was a master piece, a work of art in utter destruction.
On this nostalgic note, Valaxahr felt Tracy’s heart pounding. He could sense her unsaved soul fighting for survival. Poor young little thing, she was acting like a fly caught in a cobweb. Soon, hypothermia would set in, she would cease fighting, and would drown in her own car. She would swallow some water first in a vain attempt to breathe. Then, she would quit trying. Her heart would beat for a moment. Deprived of oxygen, it would stop. Her soul would be his. It would be beautiful, a communion with the unfaithful.
Valaxahr looked up to the opposite mountain top. Multiple balls of bright lights flashed.
“Welcome, my angels.” The demon took a deep breath and smiled.
~
“Where’s the truck?” Ben blustered.
“The fire truck’s here!” Brady Butler said in relief.
“We need the ladder truck, the big one,” Alex told him, “they’re the ones with the jaws.”
“Did you feel this?” Ben asked Alex over the roaring water.
“What?”
“The car’s moving!”
~
“Go, my children!” Valaxahr ordered the reptile-dogs.
The small creatures, the same as the ones who had come to the hospital, rushed down the mountain to finish up the job. All 24 of them, the girl had no chance.
Five armed angels stood tall on the opposite top. At over eight-feet tall, Jabril, the oldest, stayed in the middle. The evil from the other side never ceased to amaze him. He might have appeared old with white hair and a white beard, but he was an ageless spirit as worthy as Zeus might have been in his time, if he had ever existed. His hands rested on his sword, upright over the earth.
Jabril glanced at the four angels standing at his side. Without a word, he erected his silver sword. He deployed his large white wings, rose above the ground, and dove to encounter the demons with the other angels following close behind him.
They dove into the valley beneath them, the tree tops rushing beneath their silver armors, their polished swords pointing into the ramming air.
The first pass was lethal. The five soldiers lowered their weapons and slashed in half five creatures without slowing down. They rose into the sky in a continuous arc, like fighter jets after a bombing run.
Eight of the demons were already on the car, jubilating at the coming death, howling and snarling in ecstasy.
Still standing on the top of the mountain, Valaxahr pointed to the side of the car. The creatures jumped in the water and began pushing the car downstream.
~
Unable to see the ongoing fight, Alex and Ben were powerless spectators in a drowning.
“The car is sliding!” Alex said hardly holding a shout.
Ben glared at the Good Samaritan, “Get back up on the road! It’s not safe here!”
The man trudged to the edge of the water.
“Alex, we got to go upstream and secure the car!” Ben looked up. “The truck is here!” He told one of the firefighters climbing down the ravine to relay a message to the truckies–the firefighter working on the ladder-truck–for straps.
“How are you doing in there?” Alex asked Tracy after tapping on the car.
There was no answer.
~
Next to them, but in what could have been a world away, eight demons worked together in their maleficent enterprise. They giggled like children at a block party, enjoying themselves and basking in their maliciousness.
It would take a single pass to erase them. Lost in their exhilaration, they didn’t even notice Jabril coming behind them. The angel wiggled his index finger in a circle and turned them around to face him.
Their sneers vanished in incomprehension. The fun was over. His long blade sliced through their bodies in a single motion. One by one, they vanished in a small black puff of smoke. The sight was almost comical if it wasn’t so loathsome.
Another four creatures hid on a tree top during the fierce battle. Hardly able to contain their excitement, they waited for an angel searching for them to fly by.
The beautiful white being glided beneath the tree, white wings extended in a quiet slide to search for the remaining creatures.
The dark dogs jumped on his back, one of them digging its sharp teeth into his neck, drawing bright silver blood out of his immaculate skin. The angel cried in a silent scream of pain. His sword slid off his hand and fell into the burbling stream.
With demons gnawing on his white-feathered wings, the angel could not fly. He tried to flap, but the devilish creatures snapped his articulations. He fought and thrashed, but was unable to shake the monsters off his back.
With broken wings, the angel fell down the canyon, the demons still on his back. He hit rocks and tumbled farther down until he came to an abrupt stop, the devil’s disciples howling in a victorious clatter.
Jabril stopped in midflight after killing another few enemies. Three other angels were fighting, but one was missing. He looked around the valley for a minute before he spotted the wounded soldier. For the first time in a long time, fear stained his eyes.
Covered in dust, the bleeding angel had a blank stare, the evil creatures thrashing on his back, their long claws digging into his flesh.
Jabril lurched to the rescue, his long silver sword pointing like a dagger. It transpierced a first demon and immediately sliced a second one.
The other two escaped in a frantic run toward the top of the mountain at the encounter of their protector, Valaxahr, their claws at the end of stubby legs gripping onto the rocky grounds. They rushed in a vain effort to run away from danger.
Their master was standing straight, arms crossed, amused by the dismal spectacle. His little demons were dying or running for cover. What a pitiful sub-race, he thought without anger.
A slight sneer erased from his leathery face when he spotted Jabril behind them. His personal safety was coming into the equation. Jabril was a strong warrior, and so was he, but he was smarter than the old angel. He was a master in warfare with better values, starting with his own life. A fight against five–wait, now four–angels was not worthy of his time. What about the last two despicable creatures? They could fend for themselves.
Still watching Jabril flying after his two dogs, Valaxahr smiled, opened his arms, and tilted his head back.
He was gone.
Chasing the last two demons, Jabril didn’t notice Valaxahr’s departure. The angel killed the two beasts in a swift move, not by anger, but to eliminate the threat.
Jabril stood in midair, his wide wings flapping in a gracious motion. He looked up the mountain and realized that Valaxahr had left, not surprisingly. In Hell, there was no honor, no pride of looking after one another. It was a place where the self only mattered above anything and anyone else. He had never been to the dark side, but he knew from centuries of fighting against the evil kind how they functioned.
Jabril slowly turned to the fallen angel. The other three were around him. He knew.
A bright beam of light rose from the victim’s body. He would be at peace now, beyond the pearl gates. The other angels ascended with him as an ultimate escort. They were not sad. They would miss him, but they rejoiced in his destiny next to their Creator.
> Jabril stayed behind, as his duty was not done on earth.
~
Tracy’s car stopped sliding.
Mid-thigh deep in water, Alex tried to feel for an opening, his fingers running down the door up to the crushed front passenger window. There was no way he would be able to get to her without some heavy equipment. The truckies were still up on the road, pulling out their tools.
He stood powerless by the car. He banged on the door to arouse the driver, if she was still alive.
Ben shook his head. There was no hope. If the girl had not drowned, surely hypothermia was doing the grim job.
Alex hit the car with the palm of his hand, frustration simmering in his mouth in a bitter taste. He was a medic. He was supposed to save lives, not watch people die in front of him.
He dove his hands back in the water to feel for the narrow opening. He was not hoping for anything, but he felt compelled to act. Alex glanced at Ben with a decisive look.
“What are you doing?” Ben asked, knowing that Alex was about to do something stupid.
Alex didn’t answer, and dove into the cold stream. The paramedic reached far inside the inverted car, his hands flailing to find the girl. Eyes closed in the sandy water, Alex felt Tracy’s hand. He squeezed.
She responded with a weak grip.
Joy and hope flooded him for an instant before realizing that she still might not make it. It would take time to bring down the equipment and set it up before they would be able to extricate her.
Alex began shivering. He had not been in the water nearly as long as she had been, but he was already becoming hypothermic, and he couldn’t even comprehend how cold she could be.
Alex was running out of oxygen, but he didn’t want to let go of her hand. He stretched as much as he could to break the surface of the water. He gulped some cold air. He was not even supposed to be in the water. He was a medic, a healer, not a rescuer. That was for the truckies.
Inside the car, Tracy closed her eyes. Her face was against the inverted car’s floor, her mouth hardly able to breathe some stale air. The end was near, she knew it, but she was at peace. In a few minutes she would be with her sister, she hoped, or she would be on the other side. Now she knew, she had made fun of Jessica, but she finally understood there was something bigger.
~
Humanly invisible, Jabril kneeled next to the small car. It was so divinely easy. He set a silver boot on the top of the roof, now on the bottom of the stream. With one hand, he reached the opposite side of the window and spread it open as if it was cardboard. The crushed metal access complied with his will and parted with a minimum effort on his part.
~
For a faint moment, Tracy and Alex only witnessed a bright ball of light in the murky water, but it could have been anything in that traumatic scene. Tracy was losing her battle. It didn’t matter anymore. She was enjoying her last few breaths before the end.
Alex dove one more time. In an incomprehensible physics, the medic palpated a much wider opening.
Ben yelled at the truckies walking down the embankment, hands loaded with rescue equipment, “Come on, guys!”
Alex’s head emerged out of the water, “I can get her!” He dove one last time without waiting for an answer. Eyes closed, he felt around the murky waters to find her. He touched the floating seat belt, the opened glove compartment, and small objects wandering about the car to the will of the current and swirls. His fingers ran into her arm in a cold and blind world beneath the surface. He pulled her out, completely unable to assess any of her condition. For all he could see, she had been hardly able to maintain her mouth above water in a tight space. Taking her hands, he gently guided her out of the car through the window, and pulled her out of the water.
Ben took over and tugged her to the edge of the stream.
Her hypothermia was overwhelming. She was not feeling her extremities anymore, not even her broken leg. Her blue lips hardly moved when they spoke to her. She figured they were asking some medical questions about her pain or how she was feeling. She really didn’t know what they were talking about. A dry blanket in the heated ambulance felt good. The oxygen mask wasn’t bad either.
The images and people around her became a jumble of colors and strange sensations, until everything spun into a black hole.
~
“The job should be done by now,” Gina said with a satisfied grin, enjoying the distress in the young girl’s eyes.
John came out of the woods behind Jessica.
Gina frowned, “It looks like you have some company, the more the merrier,” she said without conviction.
A deep growl came from the tunnel behind her.
“I’m sorry, Gina,” John said with a sad expression.
Gina’s scowl deepened. “I guess the elimination didn’t go so well, after all.”
Two massive humanoid beings with wolves’ heads walked out of the shadows. They split and walked on each side of the ledge.
“I don’t take it I could come to your side.”
“You know you cannot, Gina.” John’s face was grave, aware of the pending outcome.
The two beasts growled, their clawed feet stomping on the dried dirt with impatience. They glanced at each other, exchanging short snorts.
“My master is waiting for me… and I failed him, again. I should have finished that cop, and I should have stopped your summons, somehow. Things aren’t looking so hot for me right now. Maybe I can sweet talk him.”
John nodded with a sad stare, unconvinced.
“I’m deeply sorry, Gina, but it was your choice,” John said unable to help her.
“That’s alright, how bad can it be?” Gina said with a last prideful stance. She glanced at the sprawling meadow, and the narrow river running through it. “Nice place you got there, Jessica. Mine won’t be as cozy.” She gave a quick smile and turned around. She entered the tunnel, the two creatures escorting her.
A lone man dressed in a black suit and hat came out.
“Who’s that?” Jessica asked.
“His name is Valaxahr…” John put his hand on her shoulder. “We should go, Jessica.”
She nodded and looked up where Gina Hawkins had stood a minute prior.
The old man turned around and walked back onto the path snaking through the lush woods. She followed him.
They didn’t dare look back. They only wanted to leave the abyss and its sadness. Soon, the forest would be cool and familiar, with pine scents surrounding them in a waltz of aromas.
John walked beside her without a word, knowing full well what was about to happen.
After a minute, a long and strident female scream of deep terror rose from behind them.
Epilogue
Feet on a desk, Ben was on an office chair in dispatch, his right hand mastering a mouse in a relaxing internet browsing spree.
Alex was on another desk, watching television with Jennifer behind her console.
“I didn’t even ask you. Were you guys busy today?” She asked.
“Nope, it was nice and slow, the way we like it,” Ben answered without looking at her. He turned to them, “It’s the fourth or fifth shift like that.”
“And you’re complaining?” Alex asked.
“I’m just saying.” Something unsaid floated in the room.
“We haven’t heard from Gina in a while,” Alex finally said as if it was small talk.
Jennifer shushed him.
Alex chuckled. “What did I tell you? You didn’t want to believe me, but my priest did a great job.”
~
Not so far from Medics Ambulance’s headquarters, Tracy Miller was lying by herself on her purple bed sheets, her right leg wrapped in a white cast with a few hand-drawn skulls and tombstones. She picked up her bone-shaped receiver and dialed Pastor Rich’s number.
He answered, surprised that Goth Tracy Miller would volunteer to call him.
They greeted each other for a short moment, and yes, she was feeling better after her wa
tery ordeal.
“Tracy, I’m glad you called. You know, the pastoral staff was praying for you and your family this morning. How are you doing about your sister?”
“It has been difficult, but I know that she’s ok now.”
“She is.” He took a deep breath, “Tracy, I don’t mean to pry, but do you know if the police have found anything?”
“They thought they’d a suspect for a while, a homeless man. But he’d nothing to do with her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It would have brought some closure.”
“I’m starting to think that they will never catch him.”
“There is a divine justice, Tracy, you have to trust Him.”
“I do now.” She stayed quiet for an instant. “Pastor Rich?” She asked without saying anything else.
“Yes, Tracy?”
“Would you mind if I volunteered for the Cubbies?”
“I would love you to.”
“I’ll be there on Friday.” She hung up and stared at her ceiling. She smiled.
~
Without direct–or indirect–family to inherit, the state had put Jim’s Repair & Body Work up for auction. Hardly able to assess the property with a quick walk through, two young entrepreneurs had purchased the business at a fraction of the market price.
Unwilling to waste any time to resell the property for a quick gain, they were spending countless hours cleaning up the old office before doing some cosmetic remodeling, mainly new paint, cabinetry, counter top, recess lighting, and flooring. They sorted out what was sellable, mostly old tools or equipment, and threw away the outdated furniture and records.
Dressed in a t-shirt and blue jeans, one of the two young men opened another drawer in a dusty metal file cabinet. He picked up a stack of manila folders and shoved them in a black industrial trash bag. He picked up a hanging file folder and did the same. The man took out a single white sneaker out of the drawer and showed it to his friend.