When Angels Cry

by Marylu Tyndall

  “Do not give up yet, my friend. She is here now.” Baliel smiled at Angelica. “See how bright her light is. She grows stronger every day.”

  “She is indeed one of the Father’s mighty warriors. But what can she do now?”

  “Behold,”—Baliel crossed arms over his mighty chest—“see how the demons retreat when she comes near. She is afraid, but she is finally appealing to the Father.”

  Pesha hoped she would hurry as he watched Death take another step closer.

  Baliel pointed to the phone in her hand. “She is finally calling him.”

  “Who?”

  “The one the Father told her to call.” Baliel smiled. “Don’t you know the Father has a plan for each of His precious children? Do you think this moment took Him by surprise?”

  “Of course not. Forgive me.” Pesha lifted his chin. “But Greg has not yet been adopted.”

  “Yet. Keep your sword steady, Pesha. The battle is about to begin.”

  ♦♦♦

  Daniel hated the leap of his heart when Angel’s name appeared on his cell phone. He hated the way this woman affected him. Both now and twelve years ago. Like no woman ever had. He had kept his distance after she blew him off at the beach, giving her some space, some time to miss him, to rethink his plea to be more than friends. Good grief, he was offering her the world! A way out of her poverty, a life of ease, and a future for Isaac! Still, she hadn’t called him.

  Until now.

  “Angel, hi.” He attempted a nonchalant tone.

  “Daniel, I need you.” Her voice was so agitated, he immediately stood and headed for the front door of his house, pressing the phone to his ear.

  “My friend may be dying. I don’t…I don’t…can you help me? Please help!”

  “Where are you?”

  She gave him the address and he hopped in his Porsche, fired up the engine, and sped as fast as he could through the nighttime traffic. What in God’s name was she doing in that part of town? Fear gripped him as he pulled onto Sistrunk, past seedy bars and strip clubs, and finally to a ramshackle apartment building that looked more like a no-tell motel. He pulled into a spot and locked the door, praying his car didn’t get stolen. Then, taking the stairs two at a time, he halted before a door and knocked, fearing what he would find behind it.

  Angel, face white and eyes frantic, ushered him inside. “Daniel, you came.” Both relief and surprise rang in her voice. “We’ve got to get him up. Help me.”

  The smell of alcohol, dust, and mold blasted him as his gaze landed on a man in his late twenties lying on the floor. Kneeling, Angel grabbed his arm and attempted to hoist him up.

  “What happened? Here, I got him.” Reaching behind the man, he lifted him to a sitting position, then slid both arms beneath his shoulders and hauled him up to stand. He stumbled beneath the man’s dead weight, but caught himself before he fell.

  “The lady from 9-1-1 said we’ve got to keep him walking.” Fear strangled Angel’s voice.

  Daniel glanced at the empty pill container and bottle of booze and figured out the rest. “Are they sending an ambulance?”

  Angel wrapped both her arms around her friend and helped Daniel drag him forward. “Yes, but who knows when it will get here.”

  The man moaned, and Daniel wanted to ask who this was and how she’d ended up in this shady hovel—in this man’s apartment—but instead he remained silent and lugged the unconscious man across the worn carpet. If they could get him to Daniel’s car, he could take him to the hospital. But with only Angel’s help, there was no way they’d make it down those stairs.

  To make matters even more confusing, Angel began murmuring in some foreign language, her voice cracking, her breath coming hard.

  A knock halted her nonsensical mumbling.

  With no care as to whether there was a drug dealer or pimp on the other side of the door, she shouted, “Come in!” He would have to speak to her about being safer later.

  Two men entered, both of whom he’d seen at her home church meeting.

  “Robert! Scottie, thank God!” she shouted with such relief, you’d think they were physicians or even angels sent from heaven.

  “Help me get him to your car,” Daniel ordered the thick, tattooed one.

  “I have a better idea,” Robert said. “Lay him on the couch. Is he conscious?”

  “He’s been moaning, but no.”

  Scottie, the preacher from Angel’s house church, glanced around the room and visibly shivered. “You see them, don’t you?”

  “Yes, too many to count,” Angel replied.

  See what? Were these people insane? “He needs to get to the hospital,” Daniel announced with authority.

  Robert took over for Angel. “Hospital can’t help him.” He and Scottie tried to lower Greg to the couch, but Daniel remained standing, his grip on the man’s back unyielding. “He’s going to die. Do you understand? We need to get him to your car.”

  Angel laid a hand on his arm. “Let them do their work, Daniel. Trust me.” She looked up at him with such strong appeal, such sudden peace, that he relented and helped the men position Greg on the cushions.

  This isn’t right. This isn’t right. He backed away, anger rising at these fools. He should call the police, have them all arrested before they allowed this poor man to die.

  But then Angel would be arrested too.

  He hesitated. And in that hesitation, he felt something dark, something sinister pass through the room…a cloud of icy mist that sent a shiver down his spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

  Greg moaned. Robert and Scottie knelt by his side while Angel stood at the head of the couch, hands gripped beneath her chin, mumbling.

  “Greg, can you hear me?” Robert said.

  The man moaned again. His eyelids fluttered, and the barest of desperate words squeaked through his lips. “I don’t want to die…”

  Scottie squeezed his shoulder. “Good. We don’t want you to either. And neither does God. He loves you, Greg. So much.”

  Greg shook his head, his breath coming hard and ragged.

  “Do you know how much God loves you? He sent His Son, Jesus, to die for you, so you could be healed, have a fresh start in life, and one day live forever with Him in eternity.”

  Give me a break. Daniel ground his teeth. These uneducated crazies were preaching to this guy when he needed a hospital? “Enough of this!” He stormed forward, intending to hoist the man in his arms and attempt the stairs alone. Better to risk falling than let this man die.

  Greg’s eyes popped open. They widened as he stared into the empty space above him. “Help me!” His body began to convulse. “They’re coming—they’re coming for me!”

  Daniel froze. Sounds poured from Greg’s lips that were not of this world. Groans and gut-wrenching screams, raspy shouts of agony, deep, malevolent voices that were metallic, guttural, male, and female—voices that should not come from a human.

  Swallowing a lump of terror, Daniel backed away. What the heck? Something very wrong, very evil was going on here. He should leave. Get away from these psychos. The room began to spin around him, and his legs grew weak. He sank into a chair, trying desperately to make sense of what he was seeing, to find a speck of reason on which his thoughts could land.

  Robert prayed boldly, “Lord Jesus, cover us all with Your powerful protection.”

  Scottie added, “In Jesus’ name, I command all evil spirits to be silent while we minister to Greg.”

  The pandemonium stopped instantly, although Greg’s body was rigid and tense.

  “Jesus died and rose again in power to conquer all evil,” Scottie continued calmly. “He has the authority to rescue you. Do you believe this?”

  “I… I do…” Greg sputtered.

  “Do you repent of your rebellious ways against God?”

  Greg coughed and moaned. “I…do…yes.” He gasped for air, his chest rising and falling as if he fought a battle within. “Oh, Jesus, please…save me!
”

  Robert gripped Greg’s shoulders. “Demons, I command you to leave this man at once in the mighty and holy name of Jesus.”

  What? Daniel could only stare.

  Greg convulsed.

  “I said at once, demons!” Robert raised his voice. “He is no longer yours. He belongs to the Father now.”

  One more convulsion and Greg released such a tormenting scream, Daniel was sure the neighbors would come running. Unfortunately, that was not the end of it. The next twenty minutes passed in excruciating slowness as Robert called out at least five more demons from Greg—Alcoholism, Insecurity, Fear, Hopelessness, and the final one, Despair. Though they resisted at first, each one finally left with either a scream, seizure, or heavy sigh from Greg.

  Finally, Greg’s breathing returned to normal, color returned to his face, and his eyelids fluttered shut as he whispered, “Thank you, Jesus.”

  Everyone but Daniel broke out in happy exclamations.

  Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Daniel took a minute to collect his thoughts. Surely this was all just an act—a morbid joke in order to get a reaction out of the famous pastor. Why was he even still here? The entire charade was ridiculous. Pushing against his knees, he rose, and lifted his hands to clap at their performance when a flash caught his eye, and he turned to see what looked like the tip of a very large sword—a glowing sword—sweeping through the air. It caught the edge of a shadow…no, not a shadow—a black, empty mass—that instantly dissipated.

  Blinking, Daniel rubbed his eyes and stared back at the spot.

  Nothing was there.

  What was going on? He was more than relieved to hear the faint wail of sirens in the distance.

  ♦♦♦

  Pesha and Baliel both shouted a “Hallelujah!”, gazing toward heaven where much rejoicing was now taking place.

  A skittering noise, like the sound of a legion of cockroaches filled the air, and Pesha watched dozens of demons fleeing Greg’s body. They filled the room in a swirling mass of darkness, uttering a cacophony of malicious shrieks and desperate groans, unhappy they’d been cast from their host.

  Spotting the angels, the demons drew weapons and advanced in retaliation. Nazare and two other warriors fought them back, away from the humans, sword against sword, blade against blade. The clang of metal filled the room, the grunt of exertion, the groan of pain as blades hit their mark. Soon, the defeated hordes left, licking their wounds and slinging curses and blasphemous insults at the warriors. Only the strongest of them remained—Death, Suicide, and the Warden.

  Pesha leveled his sword at Death.

  Baliel planted his mighty legs before Suicide, while Nazare blocked the Warden. “You have no hold on him. He is now a prince of the Most High.”

  “We shall see, mighty warrior, we shall see.” Black ooze dripped from Death’s spiked fingernails as he drew a curved blade stained red with the blood of the lost. He slashed it through the air, then vanished.

  Suicide gave a maniacal laugh and plucked a long knife from his belt… laughing, always laughing, this one…but he fled right behind Death.

  The Warden remained behind them, furiously writing in his book before finally disappearing as well.

  The angels rejoiced as the room filled with brilliant light, and they joined the joyous sounds of humans praising God for another soul plucked from the darkness and transferred into the light.

  Chapter 24

  And to her it was granted to be arrayed in fine linen, clean and bright, for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints. Then he said to me, “Write: ‘Blessed are those who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb!’”

  Revelation 19:8-9 (NKJV)

  Once again, Daniel stared blankly at the words on his computer screen, unable to gather his thoughts enough to finish his speech. He had to get it done by tomorrow at the latest in order for his staff to be able to complete their edits. He knew this would be the most important speech of his life, a career maker—or breaker—Thomas kept reminding him. And he was right. If Daniel nailed this, everyone at the Presidential Prayer Breakfast—which included every important spiritual leader in the country—would know his name. Not to mention the most powerful members of government. And the President himself. A success in that man’s eyes would seal the deal of Daniel’s appointment as his spiritual advisor.

  This was the chance he’d been waiting for. The chance of a lifetime.

  But the words he’d just written might as well have been “Jack and Jill went up the hill” for all the impact and charisma they contained. He’d even taken a break and worked out in the church gym, then grabbed a kale salad. Still, his mind found no focus.

  Honestly, after the incident last night, nothing else seemed to matter. If what he’d witnessed was true. And that was a big if —

  A knock on the door brought a welcome interruption.

  Until he saw Rubio enter in his flagrant, hysterical way.

  “What is it now, Rubio?” Daniel sat back in his chair.

  Rubio extended his bottom lip. “I bother you too much. Of course.” He turned to leave.

  “No, I’m sorry. I’m just busy today.”

  “Well, that makes two of us!” Rubio began, clearly seeing Daniel’s apology as an excuse to blather. “I simply cannot work with the pianist you gave me. She’s immature, catty, and refuses to play the piece the way I suggested.”

  Daniel would like nothing more than to toss the mind-numbing whiner from his office. Instead, he listened to Rubio’s complaint and promised he’d talk to the woman. Thankfully, that seemed to appease him, for after wiping a tear from his eye, he promptly left.

  Before Daniel could get back to work, Marley entered. A much more welcome visitor. The man always set Daniel at ease, and this time was no exception as he stood before his desk and studied him. “You look tired, Daniel.”

  “I am. Have a seat.”

  “Naw, won’t stay long.”

  And he didn’t. Not more than five minutes, during which time he asked Daniel about the youth group taking a possible trip along with Isabel Garcia, the missions director, to give food to the homeless downtown.

  “Proselytizing is illegal,” Daniel said, leaning back in his chair.

  “We’re just handing out food. That’s it. And offering a smile and a prayer. You know, helping orphans and widows like the Bible says.”

  Did it? Daniel didn’t remember that verse. But as Marley continued explaining the trip, he couldn’t help but notice the man’s excitement, his enthusiasm for showing the youth what he called pure religion. Another phrase from the Bible that Daniel didn’t remember.

  Yet something else was different about his friend. There was a look in his eye Daniel couldn’t place—a new passion, or maybe it was just peace. Whatever it was, Daniel envied it.

  He finally agreed to Marley’s plan and said they’d work out the details later, then sent the youth pastor on his way.

  After another hour of staring at the screen, Daniel rose to get a cup of coffee. This wasn’t going well. He longed to contact Angel, ask her about what happened, make sure she was all right. The last time he’d seen her she was waving at Greg as they lifted him on a gurney into the back of an ambulance. She, Robert, and Scottie planned to meet him at the hospital, so Daniel decided to go home. He’d seen enough insanity for one night.

  And still, he had no idea what it was he’d actually seen.

  “Hard at work, I see.” Thomas’ sarcastic tone grated over Daniel as he poured a cup of coffee.

  “I have been. Just taking a break.”

  “Almost done?”

  Daniel turned to find Thomas peeking at the computer screen.

  “Almost.” He lied. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.” Thomas brushed past Daniel to pour himself a cup.

  “Do you believe in demons?” Daniel blurted out.

  The cup slipped in Thomas’ hand and landed in the sink with a clunk. “What?” He picked it up, thankfully not broken, and re
-poured his spilled coffee.

  “Demons…you know evil spirits, emissaries of Satan?”

  “Oh, come on, man. You don’t believe that stuff, do you?” Thomas took his coffee and sat down, a deep crevice forming between his brows. “What’s going on with you lately?”

  Daniel lowered to a chair across from his friend. “But didn’t Jesus Himself cast out demons?”

  Thomas snorted. “You and I both know what they called ‘demons’ in the original Bible were mental illnesses, nothing more. No Satan, no evil spirits lurking around every corner. We know better now.”

  Daniel nodded. He’d been searching the Scriptures all morning. He vaguely remembered a few references from his early days in seminary, but either he couldn’t find them or the word disease had replaced the word demon. He blew out a sigh and set down his cup. “I don’t know. I saw something last night I can’t explain.”

  Thomas sipped his coffee, alarm appearing in his eyes.

  Regardless, Daniel continued. “I think it was a demon deliverance.” Not to mention a sword and a shadow that shouldn’t have been there. But he wouldn’t tell Thomas that.

  A low growl emanated from his friend’s throat as he all but slammed down his cup on the table. “You were with Smokes, weren’t you?”

  Daniel flattened his lips.

  “This is getting ridiculous, Daniel. It’s got to stop. Do you hear me? Do you know how hard I fought for you with the board this week? After Harold Jakes and Mrs. Brinkenburg exposed your association with Smokes to them?” Punching to his feet, he began to pace. “I told them you were only trying to help her escape a cult. That you weren’t dating her. And because of me, they dismissed the charge. And here you are seeing her again!”

  “She called me.”

  “I don’t care. Don’t pick up the phone. It’s obvious she wants your money. Why are you so dumb?”

  Anger brewed in Daniel’s stomach. He wasn’t used to being called dumb by anyone, especially not his friends. He rose to his full height. “Listen, she needed my help and I went. I’d do it again, too. She’s my friend. And I won’t have the board or anyone else telling me who I can and cannot be friends with.”