Killing Angels

by Michael McGovern

  Governor Tom Barnes watched the news from his office in Louisiana. He devoured every scrap of information that the television gave him. Tom was sure that the information would soon cease entirely and that humanity would be returned to the dark ages. Just a short year ago he had won a hard-fought political campaign against the Democrat candidate Harold Scott. At his stump speeches, he had often preached the need to bring the people of Louisiana back to God. It was a line fed to him by his campaign manager, and it was a line that helped him win voters who still believed in Christian values. It was enough of an advantage to tip the election in his favour and put him in the seat where he now sat. In all the times he spouted that line he never once thought that maybe God was the one who wanted to get closer to Louisiana.

  Wherever you looked, the news was not good. Governor Barnes gripped his King James Bible tight as he watched events unfold across the globe. Riots in London. Fires in Sydney. Mass suicide bombings in Syria. Pilots crashing planes out of the sky. Wars between neighbourhoods. Brother killing brother.

  “It all looks pretty bleak, doesn't it?”

  Governor Barnes had become so engrossed with what was happening in the world that he had failed to notice the arrival of the angel Abaddon in his own office. He tried to hide his fear of the creature, but it was still there to be seen on his face.

  “Bleak doesn't begin to cover it,” he replied.

  Abaddon nodded his agreement and pointed at the television.

  “This is the true face of humanity. When you are tested, you pull yourselves apart.”

  “We are not all like this.”

  Abaddon smiled, and Tom Barnes had never seen anything so terrifying and beautiful all at the same time.

  “No, maybe you're not. Are you a God-fearing man, Governor Barnes?”

  “I was raised to be.”

  “I have a task for a God-fearing man that wants to get right with his creator.”

  “Anything.”

  “Organise the police force and all the resources you have available. Louisiana will be the next to be tested. I want you ready to meet that test.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Gary Chambers and the captive police officer walked side by side as they were led into the French Quarter. The officer was still gagged and also bore the humiliation of wearing his own handcuffs. Around his neck, he wore a dog collar with a thick, chain leash that Karina had wrapped around her fist as she led him forth with one aggressive tug at a time. She walked ahead with Darnell by her side, while Cormac and Gus brought up the rear with their guns drawn. The guns were to deter the man in uniform from getting any bright ideas, but Gary did worry about the optics of it all. People would see that he had guns at his back and that he was walking beside a man that this community reviled. It was not the kind of first impression Gary wanted to make. He distracted himself away from his worry by paying attention to Wanda. She had been shaking in her cage ever since they arrived. She was not used to so many people all at once. He spoke gentle words to try and put her at ease. It also helped to put himself at ease. Cormac and Gus carried on a casual conversation behind him that was at odds with the guns they carried in their hands.

  “Can you believe that I actually got Beth to do some coke?” said Cormac. “I think the old bat might be lightening up a bit. Good for her. You'll do some of it with me, won't you, Gus? Once we have everything sorted out here.”

  “I don't partake in any of that shit, brother.”

  “And why the fuck not? It's fun.”

  “Oh, I know. I used to do it. Back when I drove a truck for a living, I would take all sorts of crap just to keep me going through the night. That's all in the past though. I've got responsibilities now. I have a little girl to look after.”

  “Yeah, but she's not even yours.”

  “She's mine alright. Maybe more by circumstance than birth, but that little darlin’ is mine, and I'm all that she has. Warms my heart to see her smile. You can't snort that kind of high.”

  “You could try. Most things are snortable if you’re brave enough. Ozzy Osbourne once snorted a line of ants. But yeah, I suppose that you can’t snort children. What good are they really? Wouldn’t be for me.”

  “Perhaps not, but that's because you're an asshole.”

  “If that's the word for a man who loves a party more than children, then that's what I am. How about a drink instead? You'll do at least that much with your best pal, won't you?”

  Gus rocked his head back and forth as he weighed the prospect in his mind.

  “I don't know.”

  “Someone else can keep an eye on the little heart-warmer while you come and get shit faced with me. Come on, have six drinks with me.”

  “I'll have one drink.”

  “Four, and a shot of something. That's my final offer.”

  Gary saw up ahead that they were being led towards Cafe du Monde. He had often stopped there in the past on his trips through New Orleans. He would sit, and people watch while munching down on one of their world-famous beignets and drinking their delicious café au lait. It brought back many fond memories as he looked upon the green and white, open canopy exterior.

  “Remy Laveau holds court in Cafe du Monde?” he asked.

  “No place better,” said Darnell.

  “Is it still in business?” asked Gary, failing to mask the hope in his voice.

  “Of course. Cafe du Monde has been making coffee and beignets for over 150 years. Hurricane Katrina couldn't shut it down, do you think the angels are going to? Some things are better than God, and a Cafe du Monde beignet is one of them. It just isn't New Orleans without it.”

  “But you call this place New Sodom now, don't you?”

  “A rose by any other name is still New Orleans. We only changed the name to piss the true believers off. Remy made it a priority to keep Cafe du Monde open so we could keep a little something of the old life. Motherfucker wouldn't keep McDonald's open for me though.”

  “Enough about the Big Mac already,” said Karina.

  Indeed, Cafe du Monde was still in business. New Sodom residents met up under its canopy and sat in the open air to socialise and forget about their troubles for a while. It was a little piece of civilisation at the end of civilisation.

  Gary and the captive were led to the only empty table in the entire place and told to sit down. Gary placed Wanda on top of the table and tried not to make eye contact with the handcuffed man beside him. It seemed that he was the only person in the place not trying to. He could see people all around the cafe staring in their direction and giving the most ill-intentioned looks towards the man in uniform.

  They were left under the guard of Karina, Gus, and Cormac while Darnell went to find the man in charge. Gary tracked Darnell as he politely pushed his way through the crowd and found Remy Laveau by the order counter. Gary had never seen a man quite like him. He was tall and muscular with thick dreadlocks falling from his head and almost reaching down to his waist. The only thing that he wore up top was a long, black coat that was opened to proudly display his bare chest where many gold ornaments and talismans hung around his neck, as well as an enormous albino python. Gary could feel Remy's eyes on him as Darnell pointed out the table where they sat.

  When Remy Laveau walked, he walked with presence. Every eye in the cafe tracked his movements as he walked towards the table. He did not have to push through as Darnell had done. The crowd sensed that he was near and parted for him. In one hand he twirled a serpent-headed cane, in the other he carried a rolled-up document. An elderly, bald, black man wearing a bright, purple, three-piece suit and a dickie bow tie walked on ahead and pulled out a chair for Remy before taking a seat for himself. The man's face was covered in scars and so gaunt that he looked more like a skull than a person. Gary found him hard to look at, but the skull man with the dickie bow tie had no trouble looking back. His eyes were glassy and dull. Eyes that had seen a world of shit and lived to tell the tale. As Remy approached, Gary stood up and extended his hand
in friendship.

  “Hi, I'm Gary Chambers.”

  Remy ignored the floating hand and sat down at the table.

  “You will sit and wait your turn,” said Remy as he placed the rolled-up document on the table. Gary broke into a sweat as he did what he was told. The python on Remy's shoulders extended out towards Wanda's cage and flicked its tongue with great interest. Gary promptly moved the cage from the table to the floor. Zombi almost looked disappointed. A large tray of fresh beignets covered in powdered sugar arrived with enough for everyone at the table. The tray was served with one cafe au lait per person. Gary was thankful for the distraction as he took a trip down memory lane by biting into the warm and fluffy centre of a beignet. He smiled, contented by the fact that the taste hadn't changed one bit. Gary was allowed to enjoy the pastry uninterrupted as Remy's attention first fell on the captive police officer.

  “Lose the gag,” Remy instructed, and Gus moved to obey.

  “I'll kill you, voodoo nigger!” said the cop, wasting not a moment with his tongue loose for talking. A wry smile touched Remy's face.

  “Spoken like a true man of the law. I bet you were the kind of cop to shoot unarmed kids in the back for the crime of being young and black. That uniform you wear combined with the colour of your skin used to mean there’d be no consequences for that kind of thing, but you’d best believe consequences are waiting for you now. Very real consequences. I guess you guys didn't hear or get the memo out in the swamp you live in, but black lives matter. Especially right here, where you sit. Look around you at all these people here, and you will see people who can conduct themselves in a civilised manner. I am also a civilised man so I will introduce myself to you in order to set an example for you to follow. My name is Remy Laveau. And you are?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Officer Fuckyou. Is that Japanese? Fuckyou, I am going to give you two options. The first option is talking to me right here, nice and civilised like. The second option is not as pleasant. You will talk to my friend sitting to the right of me. His name is Raimond, and people don't really like talking to Raimond. I am much better company. You might not want to talk, but he will make you talk. He has a talent for such things which is why we keep him around, even though he scares the children. He was a bit of a drug kingpin in a past life, so this life of violence is nothing new to him. He was already an expert at hurting people while you were still playing with your G.I Joes. Now, I know that you think you have a place in Heaven waiting for you, but trust me when I say that there is a whole lot of Hell left for you to crawl through before you get there. So, what is your name?”

  The cop hesitated but gave Remy a name.

  “Greg. You can call me Greg.”

  Remy clapped his hands together.

  “Progress. Glenn, is it? Do you see how easy things are when you participate in a civilised conversation, Glenn?”

  Greg did not answer, so Remy pressed ahead and unrolled his document out on the table. It was a map of the swamps surrounding New Orleans.

  “Now, I know that Governor Barnes is hiding out somewhere in the bayous with the swamp people. I know his location is somewhere on this map, but what I don't know is the exact location. I want you to point it out for me. Point it out for me, and we'll go kill your friends while you sit here eating beignets in the sunshine. No one here has forgotten what you did to us. You and your brothers in blue. You massacred hundreds of your own people at the New Orleans Arena two years ago. People that you had a sworn duty to protect and serve. All because what? Some angels told you to do it? That piece of shit Governor told you to do it? You’re a pathetic, weak man and you’re barely worth my time. But I’m offering you a chance to redeem yourself. Tell us where they are. You know they deserve it. You know they have it coming. Let it be them instead of you.”

  Greg looked at the map and appeared to think it over. He extended his index finger out to point, but then quickly switched to the middle finger and flipped Remy off instead.

  “Fuck you, nigger.”

  He sat back in his chair with a smug smile on his face. Remy smiled back at him like they shared in a common joke.

  “You don’t even know how stupid you are, and that’s the tragedy of it all. Take him away, Raimond. It appears that he prefers your company.”

  Raimond silently rose from his chair and took hold of the chain around Greg's neck. He pulled at it roughly and dragged Greg right out of his chair. Greg gasped as the collar tightened around his neck. He tried to get back to his feet, but Raimond pulled the chain again and used the pressure to flatten Greg out on the ground. Once Greg stopped resisting, Raimond threw the chain over his shoulder and dragged him out of Cafe du Monde. Greg clawed at his own neck and kicked at the ground the whole way. Gary audibly gulped the last of his beignet and wiped the powdered sugar from his lips as Remy finally turned his attention towards him. Zombi slithered from his shoulders and down towards the cage of the startled Wanda. His head danced as it followed the bird’s movements about the cage, tongue flicking in and out.

  “Barry, was it?”

  “Actually, my name is...”

  “My snake doesn't seem to like your bird, Barry. Do you have any idea why?”

  “I don't know. Snakes like to eat birds I guess.”

  “Yes. They do.”

  Remy sipped on his cafe au lait and let the words hang there as Gary waited on the next ones. Gary's eyes wandered from Remy and to the table behind him. There sat a man that was covered in sweat, his food untouched. He was looking over at their table, but unlike everyone else, he was tense - waiting. Eyes only for Remy.

  “Do you believe in God, Barry?”

  “I guess that it's hard not to right now.”

  “Do you believe that these angels represent him?”

  “I... I don't know. They're very convincing.”

  “I'm going to kill them, Barry. I'm going to find every last angel and pull their wings off like I would an ant. What do you say to that?”

  But Gary was not paying attention to Remy. He was paying attention to the sweaty man rising out of his chair behind him. A man that no one else seemed to notice because all eyes were on Gary and Remy.

  “I think that there is more to this than we know,” Remy continued. “God is supposed to be all-powerful, but his servants can't do their own dirty work. They make us do it. All they do is whisper in our ears and make us fight each other. Why do they even want to kill us at all if Judgement Day is coming anyway? Why can't we touch them? There are so many unanswered questions, and something doesn't quite add up to me. They have purposefully created a mystery, and that shows to me that they are afraid. If a mystery exists it is because they are afraid of us knowing the truth. If they are afraid, then there is hope for the final battle. This all doesn't have to end. This cafe could yet stand for another 150 years.”

  Gary looked past Remy and saw over his shoulder as the sweaty man drew his weapon, his eyes still locked on Remy. Gary didn't think, he acted. He turned and caught Karina by surprise as he pulled one of her pistols right out of the holster. Remy's eyes went wide in his head as everyone rushed to restrain Gary, but Gary was fast and got a shot off before they could slam him onto the table. The bullet sailed past Remy's face and over his shoulder, straight into the arm of the would-be assassin. The assassin cried out in pain and dropped his gun to the floor. Screams of shock rose from all around Cafe du Monde, but one by one they came to the realisation of what had just happened. They set onto the assassin like a pack of hungry wolves. They were former teachers, construction workers, musicians, and cab drivers, but now they were killers. They swarmed the assassin. They punched and kicked him as he begged them to stop, but they didn't. They had seen his like before, and people like him always killed the people they loved. They stomped him down to the ground and left nothing but a barely recognisable body when they were done. The crowd parted as Remy moved in to take a closer look at the dead assassin. He crouched down over the body and shook his head.

>   “Damn. Fifth one this week.”

  “I told you,” said Darnell. “The time is getting closer, and they are getting desperate. You are the snake, and they want your head. We need round the clock security on you. People you trust.”

  “No. A leader that is afraid to walk his own streets is no leader at all. Who was this man?”

  “Marvin, I think his name was. He arrived here about six months back.”

  “I want you to ask around. Find all of his known associates and make sure that none of them have been influenced. I want to know that this is contained.”

  Darnell nodded as Remy stood back up to address the circle that had gathered around him.

  “You all came to my aid when I needed it, and for that I thank you. We are everything that they seek to destroy. Family, community, hope. Know that together we are stronger. I know that the angels still speak to some of you, and sometimes they can be persuasive. Marvin here, he was persuaded to throw away his life for the promise of paradise. There is no paradise but the one we make right here, right now. Don't use the promise of some reward to shrug your responsibilities to the friends and family who love you. Only cowards do that, and I don't see any cowards here today. Marvin betrayed this community and Marvin died alone. I want you all to reflect on that the next time you see a pair of wings. We only survive together, and today it is me thanking you for the gift of another day. I hope that I can repay you all.”

  Remy walked back to the table where Gary had been allowed to sit back up.

  “Gary, was it?” said Remy with a smile.

  “Gary Chambers. Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “I thank you too, Gary Chambers.”

  Remy extended his hand and Gary shook it enthusiastically.

  “Welcome to New Sodom.”

  THE BOOK OF REMY

  There was a good crowd to be seen as Remy Laveau peered through the curtain at the Mister Sister drag queen bar on Bourbon Street. They sat expectantly with excited chatter, drinking their daiquiris and waiting for the night's entertainment to begin. The lights dimmed as 'I Put A Spell On You' by Screamin' Jay Hawkins played over the club speakers. Remy strode out onto the stage, a white spotlight instantly illuminating his presence. The crowd gasped as they glanced the massive, albino python that slithered over his broad shoulders and around his neck. He swayed and danced in time to the music, holding the python he called Zombi out in front of him so everyone could get a good look. Zombi's forked tongue greeted their lingering eyes.