Fallen Angels

by Warren DeBary

  “Leave him alone, Tuli,” Dominick said.

  “What? You when turn ha’ole too?” Tuli smirked. His lopsided grin made his menacing Polynesian face even more intimidating. The other boys laughed, calling George names, using words in their language I was unfamiliar with.

  “George, let me handle this,” I told them as I tried to slide my way out of the booth. George pushed me back down harder. He turned back to the other boys.

  “Yeah Keoki, let him up,” he leered at George, calling him by his Hawaiian name. “I’ll take care of him.”

  “You know I can’t, Tuli,” George answered.

  “You gonna stick up for him?” Tuli asked.

  “Looks like it.” George was a big guy, but compared to Tuli, he looked like a twig compared to an oak tree. I tried again to slide out but George just planted his leg on the side of the booth and I couldn’t move. Strangely, I couldn't speak either.

  “You know what is coming, George,” Tuli said.

  “I know,” George answered.

  “Then, let the ha’ole out.”

  “You know I can’t,” George answered.

  “Can’t or won’t”

  “You know the answer.”

  One of the boy’s behind Tuli shouted out, “Kick his ass, Tuli!” But the large Hawaiian turned and with a sharp right, punched the boy directly in the face, dropping him to the ground.

  “I give the orders around here, Paku. You understand?”

  Paku’s nose was bleeding and starting to swell but he nodded in silent acquiescence.

  Tuli turned back around, snarling. “It’s our time, Keoki. You know what is coming, right? Did they even tell you that much? It’s our time, not theirs.”

  Suddenly, my pendant felt warm under my shirt, quickly becoming so hot it was burning my skin. I took it out and was about to see what was making it burn, when Tuli sharply inhaled, forcing my attention back to him. That’s how I saw his eyes flash with a bright, red light. It was quick, so quick I thought it had been my imagination but George flinched at the sight of it as well.

  “What did you do, Tuli?” George asked, his tone pleading. “What did you do?”

  “It is our time, George. They’ve had their chance. Don’t you see?”

  “What did you do?” George muttered again, visibly shaken by whatever it was we had both seen.

  Just then, Mr. Ching came out of the kitchen, a dirty dishrag in one hand and a thick, wooden spoon in the other. Tuli glared at the wooden spoon like it was a gun.

  “Eh, what you boy’s doing here. You like some take out?” Mr. Ching asked. Tuli flinched, like he’d been threatened. But he visibly regained his composure.

  “Kahu, this is not your business,” Tuli said.

  “Maybe,” Mr. Ching’s eyes peered over his thick-rimmed glasses. It would have been almost comical if he didn’t look so deadly serious. “But, I think you should go.” He stared and for a moment, the huge Hawaiian’s sun-darkened face paled. Another of the cooks came out of the kitchen.

  Tuli smiled then laughed, a great crackling laughter. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Pretty soon you’re done, old man. The new Era has come, one rid of the Malakhim. Let’s go boys! See you later, ha’ole! That’s a guarantee!” Tuli fled the restaurant, the other five boys following quickly behind.

  Suddenly, I regained the ability to move and slid out of the booth. Amazingly, I also regained the power of speech. “What the hell was that about?” I asked my friend but George just stood there looking uneasy.

  “Those guys are always causing trouble,” Dominick said.

  Mr. Ching laughed, “I remember when their parents were little kids and I’d give them rice cake. I remember when you came in the first time too, George. You used to like the plum candy. Here, have some but you boy’s better get to school,” he said as he handed George a roll covered in brightly covered paper. George silently accepted it and made his way out the door with Dominick following quickly behind.

  “I’ll see you later, Mr. Ching!” I grabbed my board and backpack and quickly followed George and Dominick.

  I could hear Mr. Ching behind me “Don’t forget to ask about the wine!”

  I half expected Tuli and his gang to be waiting out front but they were nowhere in sight. George must have expected the same because he was scanning our surroundings like a convict in the prison yard. He must have come to the same conclusion as I did because he shrugged and turned toward school.

  “What was that about, George?”

  “Huh?”

  “You know, in there? With Tuli? That was just weird, man,” I said. It worried me that George seemed so distracted. He was always good for a comeback, but right now he just looked confused. Slowly, he seemed to resign himself to whatever was troubling him and he just grinned.

  “Nothing, Matty-Boy. He was just trying to intimidate you. You know how the local kids can be,” George said. “Anyway, when do you leave tonight? I still wanna borrow one of your boards.”

  “No way!” I knew he was just trying to change the subject. He was rough on his boards, always trying to do airs and hopping outcrops of reef. There was no way I was going to let him take one of mine. I’d never see it in one piece again.

  “C’mon, Matt! It’s not like you’re gonna be able to use it up there,” George said.

  “Yeah, keep trying,” I said as we reached the coral rock wall separating the street from the school. St. Peter’s was built from coral and dark, lava rock, making it seem like it had risen right out of the island itself. I turned into the wrought iron gate when I noticed George wasn’t following us in.

  “Where you going?” I asked.

  “Gotta take care of something. I’ll meet you guys after class. Cruise with you home.”

  “Yeah, okay. But you’re not using my board!”

  George just grinned.

  “You just watch out for those guys, they’re trouble. I’ll see you in a bit,” he said as he turned back in the direction of Mr. Ching’s.

  Chapter 3 – St. Peter’s

  The benches lining the walkways into the school were filled, students trying to get that last bit of studying before test time.

  “Ok, Matt, see you later,” Dominick said as I reached my school locker.

  “Hey, wait for me here after class gets out,” I told Dominick as I threw my board into the locker. “Maybe I’ll let you use on of my boards. But don’t give it to George.” Dominick was learning how to surf. His coordination wasn’t very good, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. I figured a whole summer of practicing would make a world of difference.

  “Thanks Matt! I’ll be right here,” Dominick said and he disappeared into the swirl of students heading to class.

  School passed quickly, I had two easy classes that were basically just show up and get an A but I had a test in the last class; World History taught by Dr. Mdou. A refugee from the country of Niger, he was a Tuareg, descendant of the nomadic people of Northwest Africa. Although he was raised Muslim, the Catholic Church took him in and educated him when he was very young. Now he taught World History like it was the most important thing in the world. His passion for the cultures of Greece and the Romans, the Persians and the Ottoman’s were apparent every time he gave a lecture.

  It was easy to get wrapped up in his stories of Spartans defending the Greek Nation or the Huns, crossing over the Alps to attack the Greco-Roman homeland. He showed us films of Venice with their entire city built on the coral reefs of the Northern Mediterranean as well as the Crusades and its affects on World Religions.

  Mr. Mdou especially enjoyed discussing history that you couldn’t read about in the formalized history books. He brought in slides of amazing temples in the middle of the Sahara desert and structures built from megalithic rocks weighing hundreds of tons sitting on top of mountain plateaus in the Andes Mountains of Peru. Magnificent and unbelievable that any ancient culture could have built those with just the use of bronze adzes and no wheel in sight.

  I enjoyed
his lectures, but he was kind of a tyrant, expecting nothing less than total expertise in his subject. But, at least he kept it interesting.

  “Now, the most fascinating thing is that fifteen thousand years ago the Sahara was green and had many of the fauna we find further south on the African Continent. There is proof that at one time, large lakes and even a tributary of the Mediterranean Ocean ran right through the Sahara connecting it with the Atlantic.” Dr. Mdou pulled up a slide that showed a gigantic geographic structure on what looked to be Africa. It looked like a series of three concentric rings.

  “This is the amazing Richat Structure found in the modern country of Mauratania in the western part of the Sahara desert. This picture was taken during the Columbia Shuttle Missons and can really only be seen from space,” he said. “Does the concentric circle remind you of anything?”

  “It looks exactly like that,” Kimberly Weber pointed at a poster of the mythical continent of Atlantis Dr. Mdou had put up, complete with concentric circles of the city divided by water filled moats.

  “Wait, does that mean they know where Atlantis is?” Kimo Keawe asked.

  Dr. Mdou scoffed. “No, they have no idea where Atlantis is. This site is thirteen hundred feet above sea level, but we do know that the sea levels have lowered and risen cyclically over millions of years. We also know that landmasses do move by volcanic and tectonic forces. Even right now, Antartica is rising by the rate of three inches per day. If it continues to rise it would only be 12,000 years until it would rise to an elevation of 1,300 feet as well. Right about how long ago Atlantis allegedly existed.”

  “Well, I know Atlantis is supposed to be out in the Atlantic Ocean, under the water,” Joey Clemente said.

  “You know?” Dr. Mdou asked.

  “Yeah, everyone knows that,” Joey answered.

  “Is that right? So then mystery of the ages is solved, Mr. Clemente knows exactly where it is. Maybe you could point it out?” Dr. Mdou waved toward the map of the World hanging on the back wall.

  “Well, c’mon?” He admonished when Joey didn’t move. “Sufficed to say, no one knows where Atlantis is and as usual with the truth it is always best to think than to just know, isn’t that right Mr. Clemente?”

  Joey shrugged.

  “That being said, I hope you’re ready for your test because here you go.” The class groaned as Dr. Mdou passed out the test.

  An hour later, I finished and it wasn’t easy. Fifty multiple-choice questions with ten essays on everything from Explain Steps Leading to the Fall of the Roman Empire to What Were The Underlying Factors Accelerating the Industrial Revolution. I was confident that I did well, but I guess I would just have to wait and see.

  Grabbing my bag, I was just about to take my test up to Dr. Mdou when I saw the Dean’s secretary, Ms. Chen, walk into the class. That was unusual as she rarely left her office on the 3nd floor. She glanced at me and nodded, she then spoke to the Doctor.

  I dropped my test on the pile sitting on his desk and was about to walk out when my teacher stopped me.

  “Matthew, Ms. Chen needs to speak with you,” Dr. Mdou said.

  “Huh, I was just about to leave,” I responded. Being sent to the Dean’s office was not a good thing. I wondered if Dad was upset enough to have called the Dean. I knew I should have waited for him this morning, but c’mon. This was ridiculous.

  “Come with me, Matthew,” Ms. Chen said as she left, not even looking to see if I was following. I looked at Dr. Mdou but he just glanced at the disappearing secretary pointedly.

  “Be safe, Matthew,” I heard Dr. Mdou say as I ran after the secretary.

  Chapter 4 – The Attack

  In my Father’s House there are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.

  John 14:2

  The third floor was the realm of the administrators: Principal, Vice Principal, and Dean.

  Ms. Chen turned down the hallway to a muted glass door with Dean of Students in black lettering. She knocked on the slightly open door and stuck her head in. “Willy, he’s here.”

  I heard the Dean’s raspy voice. “Send him in, please.” The smell of cigar filtered out into the hallway.

  As I entered the room, I could feel Ms. Chen follow. In front of me was a large desk with two chairs, both of which were empty. Behind the desk was a huge man, built like a power lifter. His forearms, visible under his rolled-up sleeves, were almost as thick as his biceps, and his barrel chest was giving to flab. Mid-length hair flowed around his ears in salt and pepper swirls and dark circles ran under his eyes, accentuating heavy folds of skin three or four tiers deep.

  His face was buried in my open file with a glare only seen in seasoned ring boxers and hired thugs. I could tell it was my file because Rising was written right across the top of it.

  “Um, sir, I’m supposed to be at the airport afterschool.” I thought maybe I could talk him out of the detention I suspected was coming although I still had no idea why I was in his office.

  “Change of plans, Mr. Rising. The airports are out of the question. They’ll have that covered; the shipping harbor, same thing. We have taken great pains to evaluate the situation, and I’m afraid there isn’t much that is safe for you now.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. There must be some mistake.”

  Ms. Chen sniffed behind me.

  “No mistake, Matthew,” he glanced at Ms. Chen and I could hear her fiddling with her watch. “We have kept you safe for a while, but now they’ve found you. We are not sure how, but they know you’re here and we need to get you somewhere safe.”

  “Willy, we’re out of time,” Ms. Chen said.

  “There never really was much time.” He stood up and moved next to me, his girth barely fitting by the desk. “Matthew, let me see that pendant.” I was shocked when my gold medallion popped out of my shirt collar and leapt to his hand, the gold chain straining against my neck.

  He closed his eyes and waved his palm over the ruby pendant. The jewel burst into bright, red light and a steady hum filled the room. Then the light and sound disappeared and the heavy metal fell back to my chest. The room was now eerily silent.

  “That should take care of that,” he said.

  “What did you do?” I asked, staring at the now inert pendant, wondering exactly had happened. Before anyone could answer me, there was a loud banging at the door.

  “Well, it’s about damned time.” Dean Alena gestured toward the door. “Rising, open that.”

  I turned the handle and was almost impaled by the round knob as George slammed the door open. “What the hell!” I snapped at George. He looked frantic, frazzled, like he’d just been running a long way.

  “They’re here!’ He yelled

  “Who’s here?” I demanded. But before he could answer, the entire world exploded.

  Chapter 5 – The Beast

  Let him who have understanding reckon the number of the beast: for it is a human number; its number is six hundred and sixty-six

  Revelations 13:18

  The sound was so loud it was a physical thing; a pressure wave that shook the building and rattled the room.

  A heavy clang of a steel gate slammed shut, then a staccato of other noises. A harsh rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat of a sound I was familiar from training with my dad but never heard echoing from the school walls before. The report of an assault rifle ripped at you and clawed at your psyche if you didn’t expect it.

  Dean Alena clicked a button on the metal microphone behind the desk. His voice echoed over the PA.

  “Code Red, Code Red. This is not a drill. I repeat: Code Red.”

  Someone pounded on the door. George opened it to find Dr. Mdou there. His usually perfectly placed hair was in disarray.

  “Willy, they’ve got guns, automatics. Rudy’s down, I don’t know how bad.”

  “Where are they, Anir?”

  “Front entrance, making their way down the main corridor.”

  “How many?”<
br />
  “Near as we can tell, two.”

  “Make sure.”

  “I hope he’s worth it.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” the dean said. “Save who you can.” Dr. Mdou nodded and ran down the hallway.

  “Is that gunfire?”

  “Yes, Mr. Rising. They are after you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, if they find you, they will kill you,” the dean reached for his cigar but must have thought better of it as he rubbed his forefinger and thumb together. I stood there in shock at what the old man just said.

  He opened his desk drawer, pulling out a leather-strapped sheath and threw it at George. “Mr. Koa, they have to follow you both off campus.”

  George wrapped the leather straps of the sheath around his torso and buckled the ends at his side. He pulled his polo shirt down to cover it. “Matt, we gotta go,” he said.

  “Are you nuts? I’m not going anywhere!”

  “What? You afraid of a little gunfire?”

  “Hey, screw you!” I shook my head. Sometimes peer pressure can get a person into a lot of trouble, and I was afraid this was definitely one of these times. But I’d be damned if I’d let him think he was braver than I was.

  “We have to get them away from the other students. So they have to see us. Then we run like hell to the Rabbit Hole,” George said.

  All the students knew about the Rabbit Hole. It was an opening in the back of the athletic storage building that led to the sewers. It was out of sight of the main building and was perfect for cutting class.

  “The Rabbit Hole? You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. Why? You got something better to do?” George asked as a volley of shots rang out in the hallway beneath us.

  “How will we be seen without getting shot?”

  “Glad you asked. I’ll let you know once we get there.”

  “Which means you don’t know and are making this up on the fly.”

  “You got it.” He grinned.