by Mirren Hogan
Now wasn’t the time.
He lifted her hand and let go, causing her hand to drop to her side. His reply was clear and firm. “No.”
This time when he stepped around her toward the cavern’s exit, his back nearly glowed from the moonlight filtering in from the cavern’s open ceiling. Bright red blood smeared across his back and dripped from his wounds. Sand clung to the wetness and his wounds looked painful enough that she was surprised how straight and strong he stood.
As she watched him move away from her, down the narrow trail, her thoughts were monopolized by memories of her fiancé. Of how he got in his car and she watched him drive away. Hoping she had done enough, but knowing, deep down, she hadn’t even tried to help.
Tears threatened her eyes, and she pushed her way out of the cavern, after the fallen angel.
Chapter 3
Jocelyn rushed onto the narrow path behind the angel and grabbed his arm. She snapped her eyes closed and focused, sending him visions of a future where he was healthy, happy, and healed. The vision of him at the water fountain watching the children play and of him older, sitting at a kitchen table at home.
The man shook her hand off, and when she opened her eyes, she thought she saw a smile. “You are a persistent one.”
She rubbed her hand. “You saw yourself, right? Saw how happy you were? See, you have another future where you don’t die.”
He laughed and shook his head. “That’s not happiness. What I saw was loneliness. I sat on the bench at the fountain with nobody beside me. In my eyes was longing as I watched the children—wishing I was someone else. Then I sat at my kitchen table, alone again. My house hadn’t changed one bit, despite the gray hair on my temples. That’s not a life I want. Do you know what it’s like to be alone?”
Jocelyn thought about her empty apartment. She knew all too well. The photos of her family that lived so far away. Of the one she still kept of her fiancé, reminding her happiness is out there. Of her Friday night dates with her remote control.
He continued. “Well I’ve been alone for decades. That’s not the life I wish to live.”
Jocelyn’s hands closed into fists, but she forced them to relax. “Come on. You’re not even giving life a chance. If you don’t want to do this for yourself, do it for me. Can you imagine how I’ll feel if I just leave you here?”
“Fear not. I’m not worth saving.” He twisted around, giving her a good view of his back. “Do you know what I did to lose my wings?”
She hadn’t thought about it.
He turned to her, pointing at a shadow underneath his eye. “This black eye is minor. Just a little token of the fight, but do you know what happened to the other man?”
She shook her head.
“He almost died. I forgot how strong I was in comparison.” He shook his head. “But my strength is gone now, and I have nothing left to offer.”
She examined his eye. What would cause this gentle and somewhat timid man to beat someone almost to death?
He tilted his chin as if reading her thoughts. “It was over a woman.” He turned his back to her again and resumed his way down the narrow path, twisting his body and wiping blood from his back on the rocks. “But that’s not your problem.”
With a clenched jaw, she returned to the cavern and gathered her backpack, washcloth, and spilled water bottle before heading after him. “No, it’s not my problem, but our current situation is. I’m going to help, whether you like it or not.”
He twisted around, giving her a focused stare. “Even if I let you, you’re out of water.”
Was she getting through to him? She thought about the river she walked beside earlier and was glad she had an antiseptic soap along as well. “I’ll get more water. There’s a river down the trail. Here, follow me.” She slipped out of her backpack and walked to him, placing her hands on his waist. She guided him to a larger opening, then pushed herself around his warm body on the narrow trail. Her foot caught his, and she stumbled, but he caught her hips. Jocelyn’s hands slid to the bare skin of his waist as she regained her footing, and her heart quickened. Her cheeks heated, and she looked away, pushing ahead on the trail.
She led him the way she came, glancing back to ensure he followed.
The trail elevated alongside the river. Jocelyn hugged the stone wall until she found a few large rocks leading down to the water. She hopped from one large rock to another, finally kneeling to refill her water bottle and wash the cloth with the antiseptic soap. The whole setup wasn’t sterile, but the spring fed river, antiseptic soap, and antibiotic creams were the best she had. When she stood and turned, the angel was gone. She listened but heard only rushing water.
He had intentionally distracted her! She clenched her fist, and water dripped from the washcloth.
She took a deep breath, admitting to herself that she had done everything she could. His future was in his own hands. She had shown him what would happen if he did nothing, and what would happen if he cleaned himself up. She had been persistent—annoyingly persistent.
What else was there to do?
Those were the same thoughts she had when she tried to persuade her fiancé not to go to work that day. She had thought she’d done everything in her power, but she hadn’t. With this angel, she hadn’t either.
She could search for him. Spend all day here until she could no longer walk. Scanning the path, a moving branch caught her eye. Was he hiding?
She tightened the water bottle’s cap and took off on the trail toward the parking lot. Arriving where the branch had moved, she scanned the landscape with her flashlight, only to see a squirrel hopping in the tree.
She continued down the trail.
Ahead of her, the trail split. One path led to the parking lot, and the other was more rugged, hugging the river with stairs made of boulders. The ping of a stone tumbling against a rock, then a splash, made Jocelyn spin around and swipe her flashlight over the path.
There, on a ledge above the river, was that man…that angel.
Chapter 4
Jocelyn sighed and gathered the fight left in her. “You took off on me!”
“I told you I didn’t want your help!” The angel stood and began to climb the boulders, putting more distance between them.
She tucked the water bottle in the side pocket of her backpack and climbed the rock outcropping. Another wolf howl filled the air, causing her heart to pound and her arms to hug the rocks as her foot slipped against the wet surface. She stepped on one rock, then another, ensuring sturdiness in her footing. Ahead, the angel climbed farther down the river. Why was he so stubborn?
After both her and the angel maneuvered farther down the path, the angel ran out of rocks to climb, as the path dead-ended. She was almost there. A few more boulders, and she could reach him. A throbbing pressure filled her head.
“No, no, no!” She flung one hand to her temple as she eased down on the ledge, but the ledge was not wide enough. Her body tensed and when she involuntarily stretched out, she toppled into the icy, rushing river below.
Her vision was like nothing she ever had before. She didn’t just see what was going on, she experienced every detail with all five senses, like she was there. This was the first vision she was physically in rather than just observing. She was seeing her future for the first time.
Jocelyn stirred a pot of red sauce in a familiar kitchen—the angel’s home from her earlier vision, only different. Paintings of parakeets decorated the walls, her favorite animal, and her old, lime green toaster rested upon the angel’s countertop. She set a hot pad in the center of four plates on the kitchen table—a much larger table than in her other vision with the angel.
“Dinner’s ready!” she announced.
Two dark-haired little girls, about six years old, came into the room, Their hair perfectly straight, like her own. The stubborn, fallen angel followed with small creases around his eyes and distinguished grays at his temple. His lips curled in a smile that warmed her and made her forget his
one-mindedness. She felt unmistakable love, a love she hadn’t experienced since her fiancé died. At that moment, she knew the angel’s name—Blaze. She knew everything about him and knew he knew everything about her. She loved that feeling.
“Spaghetti!” One of the girls yelled.
The other hugged her leg. “Thanks Mom!”
Blaze came up beside her, putting an arm around her back as she set the pot on the table. He pressed his body to hers and whispered into her ear, “Thank you.” He brushed his lips against hers. His warm, soft kiss sent a shiver down her spine.
Her eyes jolted open when her vision ended. Her lungs burned and her body twisted in misery. Water rushed over her head and cold numbed her limbs. She flailed her arms against the hard stones while she tried to push to the surface for a breath. She scraped her elbows and knees, fighting for her life.
Once she broke the surface, a wave crashed over her head again. She kicked off the bottom of the river, but now she was so dizzy, she struggled to know which way was up. Attempting to calm herself, she rose to the surface and tried to cough the water in her lungs, but they stung and she couldn’t move air.
Another wave crashed over her head and her body hit a rock, deflating her lungs. She attempted to grab something, but nothing was within reach.
When her knee slammed another rock, she twisted again, grasping at any hard, unforgiving rocks along the shore…
But her arms caught something soft. A hand wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her against something warm. She blinked the water from her eyes to see Blaze’s beautiful face before a coughing spell hit her, bringing tears to her eyes.
She focused on clearing the water from her lungs, allowing Blaze to take care of her. He cradled her in his arms before lifting her over his shoulder, struggling to get out of the rushing water. She pried her eyes open to see the clean wounds upon his back. Two jagged slits, free from dirt and debris.
How long had he searched the river for her?
He climbed the rocks, then laid her upon a large stone. She twisted, coughing and spitting fluid from her lungs. Blaze glided his hand up and down her back, and when she couldn’t cough anymore, she laid back on the rocks, remembering the love she felt in her vision. Longing for it.
The man responsible for that love sat beside her, staring out over the water. His back was cleaner than it had been, and he might survive. Could she now leave this forest? Was her duty done?
She didn’t want to leave him. She wouldn’t leave him. The emotions in that vision made her love him. She knew him inside and out. Their lives intertwined.
“Thank you,” she croaked.
He nodded toward the river. “I had no choice. You were drowning.”
She sat up. “There’s always a choice.”
They stared at the hypnotic rushing water while the sun rose and her lungs returned to normal.
Eventually, Blaze stood and helped her onto the main path.
“The parking lot is that way.” He pointed down the trail.
When she nodded, he took a step in the opposite direction.
Jocelyn followed him. “Where are you going?”
“It’s none of your business.”
The words broke her heart. This couldn’t be the end of the road. She had seen his future…their future together, and it was beautiful, but he hadn’t seen it. He hadn’t fallen in love with her like she had with him.
She took his hand, turned him around, and pulled him closer while her heart pounded. “I have one more thing to show you.” He pulled away, but she gripped his hand tighter, not letting go. “A future where you aren’t alone. Where you are loved.”
His eyes widened, and she placed her free hand against the stubble on his cheek. He leaned into her hand, and she closed her eyes, sending him images and feelings from her vision—of their children, the sweetness of their kiss, and the love they shared.
Blaze’s warm breath fell across the top of her head. She leaned into his chest, feeling his heartbeat against her cheek. She felt his love, and the promise of a beautiful future made her relax into him.
When she opened her eyes and stared into his dark blue eyes, she realized he felt the same way. Lifting onto her tippy toes, she placed a kiss upon his lips.
“Is it that easy?” he said after she pulled away.
“It can be, if you don’t fight it.”
He wrapped an arm around her. “I think I’m tired of fighting.”
She traced a hand down his arm and gripped his hand. “Then follow me. I lost my glasses and could use someone to drive me home.” She winked at him.
With a nod and a heart-warming smile, he let her lead him out of the forest and to their new life, together.
If you liked this story from Joynell Shultz, you can read more from her in Rogue Skies. Preorder for 99c.
Thank you for reading One Possible Future. This story is one of many about the Angels of Sojourn. Learn more here: www.JoynellSchultz.com/Books
About the Author
Joynell Schultz writes romantic speculative fiction, from fantasy to mystery and even some science fiction. Discover more (including how to get more stories like this one for free) on her webpage: www.JoynellSchultz.com
Copyright © 2019 by Suzanne Hagelin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The Last Beer
Suzanne Hagelin
The Last Beer was first published in the Northwest Independent Writers Association 2018 Anthology.
“Welcome to the ECJF Carnival!” A booming, circus style voice projected in Ray’s direction. He had been screened and recognized as a legitimate registrant of the Annual Emerald City Job Fair.
Several people in line behind him hooted, trilled their tongues, or belted out mariachi calls, cheering him on as he stepped successfully through the break in the laser net.
Bells and whistles blasted, colorful lights whirled, and the pink and purple gates dropped into the ground before him. Ray trotted through just in time before it slammed shut with a simulated dungeon door crash and macabre cackling. The chaos in the waiting line outside was nothing to the jamboree within. Jazz music from multiple bands rolled around, melding and vibrating; laughter, like cymbals and drums breaking through the din; costumes that bridged all human history and creativity in a sea of gaudy regalia.
This was the place where everyone gathered to celebrate their job wins and the excitement in the air was tangible and intoxicating. To hear their own propaganda, the ECJF Carnival was a wildly successful event where dreams came true and impossible matches were made. Serfs and imperial-worthy companies faced off in good-natured encounters where all job and employee interview norms were irrelevant.
Many people claimed the costume was the key and spent months researching and creating the outfit they believed could get them the job they wanted. One guy he knew had landed a position testing mattresses in orbit, which included regular trips into space, by donning a 1920’s gentleman of leisure’s smoking robe, slippers, and a monocle. The glass of whiskey and curled mustache were clever, but it was his air of self-indulgence with a hint of arrogant amusement that charmed his employer as he strolled around finding chairs to relax in.
Ray’s only attempt at adornment was a black beret with a small green feather added to his usual office garb: slacks and a shirt. No mask or makeup. He hoped to win job offers on merit rather than getup.
Popping in the program-guide contact lenses provided at the door, he scanned the map of the Seattle Center.
“Not the food court!” he murmured, though he would be hungry soon. There were a ton of opportunities for interplanetary food service workers, but he hated the carnival insanity of the court’s jousting tourneys and food fights. And he didn’t cook. The dancing arena was a lot of fu
n but there wasn’t a single company there he cared to check out.
“Where would I find off-world opportunities?” he queried the guide in a whisper. A number of events and competitions flashed on the visual, all taking place in the amusement park.
Hmm… CE was running trials at the Spacer, a popular Seattle Center ride that Ray had spent a fair amount of time at in the past. Groups of applicants would be cycling through every twenty minutes trying out for trans-orbit piloting jobs.
The Gravity Hall of Mirrors, built on the site of the old Experience Space Project, was a completely new ride opening that very day. It would be run for the evening by an interplanetary head hunter scoping out candidates for a variety of opportunities.
He scrolled down a ways. “The Drowners’ Trap,” he vocalized, “Sounds like space vacuum work… Maybe?”
A human whip of party goers swept past him, linking his arm and swirling him into the crowd. He disengaged himself with a chuckle and made his way out of the party toward the rides. Buttered popcorn, cotton candy, and caramel apples filled the air with aromas that made his stomach growl.
“Flinger” was the scariest ride in the center and he went there first. It seemed like a good place to prove his ability to handle space challenges. The stream of people moved quickly down the line, were sent in, elevated up twenty meters while the harness was attached to their torsos, and then at the top they were flung out across the surroundings in something of a boomerang arc; crazy gees, a gut-wrenching yank, and a tug back to the descent tower. All the rebound momentum was absorbed by the slam-cushion, then a corkscrew slide shunted them back to ground level.