by Aiden James
“Get your dirty, slimy hands off me, assholes!!” shrieked Amy, when one of the soldiers groped inside her blouse.
When Jeremy tried to come to her rescue, another soldier slammed the butt of his rifle against Jeremy’s head. He crumpled to the ground, and from where I stood I saw a small river of blood pour down the side of his head. Amy cried out even harder, trying to reach him while another soldier smacked her in the face.
“Let them go!” Alistair cried out, before I heard another gun-butt crack against his head. Enough to stun him into silence, though his head wound looked less severe than the blow delivered to Jeremy.
“Predictable responses. Wouldn’t you agree, William?” Viktor crowed. He motioned for the assault on Amy to cease.
The soldier grinned in response and pulled back the beret they wore. I was surprised to see it was a female and not a guy, as I had assumed from the attack. Of course, the gender of the assailant mattered little. The mortified look on Amy’s face matched mine, and she tried unsuccessfully to take a shot at the soldier. Viktor raised his hand again, this time to stop the soldier from using her rifle as a club against Amy’s face.
“Stop, Caprea! Leave some fun for all of us,” he said, his tone bearing an unsettling mixture of joy and callousness. “Just let me have a final word with my old friend William and then you all can do what you will with his unfortunate companions.”
Think fast, William...Damn it, THINK!!
It was up to me...and yet what could I do? An aggressive move borne out of misplaced bravado would certainly spell a quicker end of Alistair’s, Amy’s and Jeremy’s earthly stay. No way in hell I’d take such a gamble.
By my estimate, there were nearly eighty mercenaries along with Viktor and a crew of scientists presently making their way around the Tree of Life. The scientists were measuring the crystal’s base. I wondered for what purpose?
Then I watched in further horror as one of the scientists set explosives around the entire perimeter of the tree...spacing them in a radius roughly ten feet from the outer core of the structure. The Russians were planning to uproot the tree! But the loader didn’t look big enough to carry it, so were they planning to harvest only the roots of the crystal?
“Well, then...are you ready to meet your maker, William?” Viktor returned to where I stood. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. “Maybe you should get on your knees and give thanks, that I won’t make this as painful as you made things for our two colleagues you murdered yesterday morning...hmmm?”
The glint of supreme amusement danced within his icy blue eyes. They were lighter than when we last faced each other, in the wee hours of that morning. I wanted to gouge them out, and then tear the obnoxious grin from his face.
“Or, maybe you should just pack up your shit and take your stupid ass out of here along with these other Soviet jerk-offs before the angel who guards this place shows up!”
Not the wittiest thing I’ve ever come up with and I wish I knew where it originated from. Really, I had no prior intention of saying something as silly as this, despite the fact I had been wondering what in the hell was keeping Ophanim from his Garden of Eden duties. Still, the words brought a sense of power, and a sudden feeling of excitement quickened my pulse. One that gained strength despite Mr. Kaslow’s derisive snicker that soon erupted into uproarious laughter.
“An angel, eh? Seriously, William—that’s the best you can come up with?!” He laughed harder, which brought out more of his natural Serbian accent. Even the sullen army gathered around us was snickering. “Perhaps, Petr—soon to be the most powerful man in the civilized world—perhaps he would like to comment on your suggestion.... Petr?”
Similar to the last time we met, Petr Stanislav soon appeared from my periphery. His imposing shadow briefly blocked out the crystal’s light as he stepped in front of me. As before, his lovely breath threatened to draw out the remaining contents of my stomach through my mouth as one explosive attack directed at his noxious person. Since it would only hasten my death sentence, I swallowed hard to keep such an event from happening.
“Yes, Mr. William Barrow, tell us about your angel!” Stanislav sneered, pushing each word at my nostrils, as if he wanted me to inhale his foulness in its entirety.
His light gray eyes seemed even more lifeless than before. I’ve heard there are people born soulless. He could easily be such a man. Subtract his enormous wealth and size and he would be nondescript as a person, sad to say.
“Is it someone famous, like Gabriel or Michael? Or, maybe it is the legendary Raphael who is said to guard this place?” he continued to taunt. “It does appear that he failed to do an adequate job of keeping ‘evil doers’ out of Eden! Maybe he should retire. Or, better yet, trade shifts with the Mormon’s Moroni, whom everyone can see atop their famous Tabernacle back in the country you should’ve never left, you foolish man!”
Like Viktor, his initial chuckles soon swelled into an unpleasant surge of uproarious laughter. Then he requested the slim Glock in Viktor’s hand.
Before he simply pointed the barrel at my forehead or heart to end my illustrious existence as William Judas Barrow, I had one last chance to say something that could change my fate. Even if it bought just another thirty seconds while he and Viktor chuckled some more.
“You’re wrong about the angel’s name, and you’d better hope you haven’t pissed him off for your sakes! His name is Ophanim, and I’d be willing to bet your wealth and mine that he’s more than a tad upset that you’ve carelessly changed the décor around here!”
For a moment, Petr Stanislav glared at me in angry silence, while a slight smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth. I thought for sure this would be when he raised the pistol and placed a searing bullet through my head or into my chest. But he chose instead to laugh again, and as Viktor joined in, the laughter quickly spread to everyone. Everyone, I should say, other than Amy, Jeremy, and my son who had regained consciousness.
But then another sound overrode the laughter, though it started subtly. It sounded like a high-pitched whistle, barely audible I’m sure, except to someone with my set of ears. But as the whistling noise grew louder, everyone’s attention was drawn to the northwestern corner of the cave. A slender orange light appeared in the air. The light resembled a vertical pole or staff, and as it drew nearer to us the brilliant image seemed unstable as if it were flickering.
“What in the hell is that?” Alistair squinted his eyes. No doubt, he missed having his favored eyewear on hand. “It looks as if someone’s holding a light...someone very big!”
Someone as big as Goliath...although opaque, and barely visible. Someone who could fly through the air with ease.
All eyes were drawn toward the figure, whose speed picked up considerably once it spotted the hundred or so humans gathered near the Tree of Life.
“Is that Ophanim?” Amy’s tone clearly revealed her astonishment—especially as the figure suddenly bore down upon us.
She had seen some pretty spectacular things already in the presence of ‘yours truly’. But, sadly, I can’t compete with the unearthly beauty and fierce presence of this kind of immortal being—one whose age easily runs in the tens of thousands of years.
“Yeah, it is!” said Jeremy, his countenance revived. “He’s come back to protect the sacred garden!”
The siblings Golden Eagle looked like matching Hummel figurines—at least that’s what they reminded me of, with upturned gazes in quiet fascination. And who could blame them? Ophanim’s majesty is almost beyond description. And when I say ‘him’ it is in a very loose sense. Guardians like this one are far too splendid in their beauty and raiment to be considered pure ‘males’. Keep in mind also that only a few breeds of angels can actually propagate. I’m sure any avid readers here have either heard or read about the creators of the human giants mentioned in the Talmud, or Old Testament of the modern Bible. Those angels are not of the same ilk as one like this.
Almost godlike in his comeliness, his facial fea
tures were aglow within light bronze skin. For the moment, his skin was translucent, as if this wonderful and fearsome being was partially invisible. Think of a fine cut-glass statue when the sun’s rays hit it. Ophanim’s current appearance was like that. His deep lavender eyes were aglow with intensity that many might mistake for friendliness. But I knew better, personally knowing the passion such a being brings to heavenly assignments.
He was pissed...royally angered, to the point the violet, gold and white feathers in his near twenty-foot wingspan fluttered in irritation. Like a proud barn owl, whose nest had just been pilfered by a band of rodents. I should also add that such beings are superior readers of danger and ill will directed toward the innocent...or to them.
The scientists murmured amongst themselves while the mercenaries aimed their weapons at the angel. Even Petr Stanislav and Viktor Kaslow took an aggressive stance. Stanislav pushed out his chest like some territorial gorilla, and Viktor took back his beloved pistol. He pointed it at Ophanim’s midsection, just above the angel’s golden tunic. Meanwhile, Amy and Jeremy drew closer together, and I made a protective move toward my son. Even for the uninformed, it would’ve been easy to tell the angel-fearing foursome from the infidels.
I doubt the vast majority of the men and women gathered in the open cave right then would’ve ever guessed what was to come next. I’ve come to believe that none of them understood that the glowing shank carried forward by Ophanim was a weapon, although surely they should’ve known to stay clear of the molten shaft of metal that looked like a giant fiery sword which had just been smelted on an anvil and not allowed to cool. It would make sense—perfect sense. Instead, once the angel was within a few feet of the first victim in the carnage that followed, Viktor ordered his mercenaries to shoot it.
Oh, what a regrettable decision!
Thousands of bullets from the latest automatic weapons bounced harmlessly off Ophanim’s near-transparent body. Some of the errant gunfire chipped one of the few cave stalagmites in the area, not far from us. The crystal tree’s luminance grew slightly brighter from the stray shots that glanced off its surface. Of course, a few of the soldiers and one scientist were also hit, collapsing to the ground or falling into the stream. They were the lucky ones.
Ophanim’s eyes flashed brightly with anger, and then the angel disappeared...or so I thought. But two rows of mercenaries soon collapsed where they stood. Cut down in pieces, some were decapitated and the rest were simply cut in half through their midsections.
The burning stench of flesh, blood, and other things that make us human filled the air. It almost entirely drowned out the floral fragrance I admired so much upon our arrival in the garden.
“Don’t move, Ali—stay down with me!” I warned my son, when his primal instincts to run for cover kicked in. “Submission is the only thing that an angel will understand as a peaceful gesture.”
“Not so fast, William! Come with me!!”
Viktor grabbed the back of my shirt collar in an attempt to lift me to my feet. He only had one hand to work with as he held a rocket launcher in his other hand. I glanced over at Amy and her brother. The towering figure of Petr Stanislav loomed above them, threatening them with a rifle.
My immediate thought was this must be Viktor’s and Petr’s ‘Plan B’. They didn’t sound like they believed in angels earlier when they disparaged my mention of Ophanim, and perhaps they still didn’t. But evil conniving miscreants are the same as the not-so-bad cunning guys—like me. Sometimes we have no choice but to come up with an alternate plan of action on the run. Hey, if it works for star quarterbacks and parachuting CEOs then it should work fine for the rest of us. Right?
Just as long as it doesn’t mean trying to outfox the more powerful beings in the immortal world. I’d much rather go toe-to-toe with the oldest, most blood thirsty vampire than an angel who’s been scorned. Hell, maybe that’s where the popular adage comes from after all.
“Petr, bring them to me!” Viktor advised, motioning with his arm holding the rocket launcher for his boss to bring Amy and Jeremy to a nearby Jeep where he was attempting to drag me. Meanwhile, Ophanim was ripping through the rest of the mercenaries still trying to follow their boss’s orders to bring the angel down. “We need to crack the crystal to get the djavol to stop!”
Huh?
Apparently our Russian counterparts do believe in something—just not a protector assigned by God. Just another instance where accepting the devil is an easier deal than God Almighty.
Petr Stanislav picked up Amy and Jeremy with no more effort than a nursemaid holding a couple of newborns. But before he took a step toward the Jeep, the angel was upon him. Unlike the shimmering blur that had nearly destroyed his entire army, Ophanim rose into the air above him, eyeing Stanislav in anger. Even the angel’s full wingspan mimicked its owner’s disdain, twitching noticeably. The sword gleamed in his left hand as he pointed it at the Soviet billionaire.
“Fuck you, djavol!” Petr sneered, aiming his weapon at the angel’s face.
He laughed contemptuously while Amy and Jeremy squirmed to escape his gasp. Jeremy’s determination allowed him to slip free, and that was enough to distract Stanislav. Before he returned his gaze to Ophanim, the angel had brought the sword down, severing Stanislav’s arm at the shoulder. The gun fell harmlessly to the ground, as did Amy.
Petr Stanislav fell to his knees, screaming in agony while he struggled to grab his severed right arm with his left. I expected Ophanim to finish the job on him, perhaps bringing the sword straight down again and splitting the hefty Russian in half. But the angel ignored him and leapt over to where Viktor was losing his battle to get me to cooperate.
Ophanim glared at all three of us, and for a moment, I thought he had decided to kill all trespassers instead of sparing the ones anointed by Zoran. Instinctively, I moved to shelter Alistair, fairly certain I could survive the attack from one of God’s special servants. But don’t think I wasn’t praying harder than I had in years...centuries, actually.
For the first time in I don’t know how long I cringed, like a mange-infested dog about to get kicked. I even almost closed my eyes...but I didn’t. Good thing, since I would’ve missed all the fun of Viktor Kaslow’s death dance with his djavol.
I have to hand it to my nemesis. He somehow managed to keep his wits long enough to point the rocket launcher at Ophanim’s midsection as the twelve-foot angel towered above him. But before he could get the damned safety released, Ophanim knocked the launcher out of his hands. Viktor’s death would’ve happened quickly, perhaps even painlessly at that point. If only the release on his weapon had remained closed.
It didn’t. As soon as the rocket launcher fell to the ground, a rocket screamed past Ophanim’s head. The swerving sucker raced toward the Tree of Life. When it hit the upper ‘branches’ of the immense crystal, Ophanim let out a gut-wrenching cry and immediately flew toward the gaping wound in the Tree of Life. A blast of glowing crystals flew out of the tree in all directions. Sharp shards ranging in color from brilliant green to soft purple flew all around us. Most were fairly large, measuring several feet in length, though I saw some fist-sized fragments whiz by. As tempted as I was to linger on the angel’s extraordinary image as it drifted toward the brilliant hole in the Tree of Life with its full wingspan glowing in magisterial beauty, the survival of Alistair, Amy, and Jeremy overrode all else.
A large stalagmite I’d noticed earlier offered the best protection. Before the heaviest onslaught of shards reached us, I urged everyone to race over to it with me. Luckily, the stalagmite bore a crevice on its eastern side with just enough room to shelter us all. Jeremy pulled his leg inside it as a barrage of crystal splinters began to fall around us.
Like a heavy hailstorm, the assault lasted for nearly twenty minutes until the eruption from the Tree of Life finally waned, which gave us a chance to loosen and remove each other’s bonds. Luminous fragments rested in haphazard piles around us. Being the one with the least chance of getting hurt,
I ventured out from our shelter first.
The stillness was unsettling, and even the birds and other singing creatures from earlier were dormant...or did they even survive the crystal shard assault? When I looked around, the army of mercenaries and scientists lay dead around me. Even the hole created by the FGRs had shrunk significantly, as apparently the fragment shower had somehow affected the time it took to reverse the fusion machine’s effects.
Petr Stanislav lay motionless near the Jeep, a deep crimson pool still spreading around the back of his head.
Dead.
At least the world was a better place again, although time would tell if it was safer. It would be only a matter of time before some other megalomaniac obtained this technology and used it for ill gain.
I ventured a short distance further to make sure the area was safe enough for the others to emerge from their present hideout. As I turned to go back and let them know the coast was clear, I saw Viktor Kaslow lying in his own pool of blood. One of the crystal shards had pierced his heart and he was near death, his eyes already glazed over.
“So you win...you win this time, William,” he whispered, between coughs of blood. “Perhaps it will be different when...when we meet again....”
That was the last thing he said, and I could almost see his spirit withdraw. To Sheol, or do other cultures have their own hell to reside in? I don’t know...maybe it’s all the same. Both for hell and heaven. I’d like to think so.
As a gesture of respect, I squatted down beside him and closed his eyes. Then I called to the others, letting them know it was safe enough to join me. Amy and Jeremy ventured first, followed by my boy—always the gentleman.