1606010611-When-a-Good-Angel-Falls-Kougar.doc (2 page)

Sixty-one years of age, she no longer had the stamina needed for that noble sacrifice. The New Rebels were always on the run, or attacking. Nor did she have the tech expertise, the brilliance to manipulate the big brother chips and the Darth Vader
web systems.

Having no family left, and not much of anything left, with her land stolen by the police state since it still produced crops, Sedona helped out wherever she could. And merely existed. Now she drove to a friend’s hidden sanctuary, invited when they’d managed to talk over a shortwave radio.

Sedona grimaced at the irony of driving through Sedona, her namesake. Now deserted, the new age haven had been brutally wiped out by the New World Order’s bio-terrorism. Yep, the message had been cruelly delivered to all those who believed in sacred-creating an enlightened global order.

In 2012 fear reigned. For most everyone.

Seeing no one, she drove in silence. Even having an old radio on, if a signal could be snagged, upped her chances of being caught. “Run silent, run deep,” she quoted, ignoring the eery chill in her gut.

“Fear rules everything. Okay, maybe not for those lucky enough to be at Maya Toga Days,” she mumbled, half-elated, half-repulsed by the idea. “Maybe a big fat miracle or two. The great solar flare of enlightenment courtesy of sun cycle 24.” She took a breath, musing. “I don’t suppose they have Christmas tree lights on the pyramid. Serpent lights, yeah, that’s the ticket. The ticket to paradise. The tree of life. Let’s all jump for joy. It’s a new kind of holly jolly Christmas. The garden of Eden returned, where the feathered serpents are Santas, delivering toys.”

“Oh no.”
Despair settled in her stomach like a rock. Her van slowed, clunking offensive loud noises. “It’s a good day to die. Good night to die.” Her own whisper knifed her insides, as she guided the rolling van toward the crumbling edge of the neglected highway. “Maybe the coyotes will get me first. Rather feed the wildlife,” she muttered.

Slowly the van died, pathetically coughing, and obviously on its last wheels. Finally she rolled to a dead stop. Sedona breathed for a few moments, her hands glued to the steering wheel. She had to get out, and leave. Any stopped vehicle was immediately investigated. Already the road sensor beamed the signal. Pulling on two jackets, she grabbed her one huge bag of belongings, stepping out quickly.

For a few moments, she leaned against the van, gazing around, trying to make some sort of decision about where to go, what to do. If it mattered. Ultimately mattered. In the shroud of scorched ash and night, she couldn’t see where to go. Or not go. Maybe an asteroid would just strike her down—a fiery puff of flesh, like human combustion—and it would be over. Lights out. Lights on in heaven.

Sedona hissed a sigh. Too damn bad, the asteroids weren’t striking close enough. She tried to figure out how long she could walk along the highway before they found her. The few isolated towns, ranches or homesteads still left in the area, wouldn’t be safe for a stranger, no matter which side of the fence she claimed to be on, anti-government or pro-government. And she saw nothing, no lights of any kind.

By habit she silently spoke prayers for help and protection. Hoisting her bag, Sedona shivered in the cold desert air of December.
Gee. Only about three days to the end of the Mayan calendar. Do you think I could walk to LA in that time?
Wondering what would be the easiest, quickest way to die in this circumstance, she slowly walked in the direction she had been driving.
Maya Toga Days, here I come! Beam me aboard, feathered serpents. Just don’t serve me for dinner unless you do it humanely.

Before Sedona could take more than a few steps, the cycle rider appeared, a whispering hum of sound. No lights, the cycle and the rider’s garments blended in with the night. Ten feet in front of her, the rider seemed to wait for her to approach. Obviously, this was no Homeland Nazi. She would have been on the ground, tasered, and probably dead. Certainly twitching in agony.

Tensed to escape, she watched the rider remove his or her helmet. His helmet. He looked young from what she could see. Not a whole helluva lot, since the darkness ruled all.

“Get on,” he invited. “Looks like you need a friendly lift.”

Good Lord, his voice melted her insides. The movie star caliber of Tom Cruise, only better. Or what used to be considered movie star sexy. Not anymore. You might as well have Hitler speaking English in the current horror offering of movies to the mind-numbed public.

“I could be dangerous,” she answered, trying to decide—not like there were many options. Him or Homeland, or run toward land she couldn’t really see worth an effing damn. She took a few steps toward him. If he was going to kill her, maybe it would be quick.

“The Nazerazzi are more dangerous,” he offered, his tone practical. “And on their way. Enough room behind me for you and your bag.”

Sedona sighed loudly, and decisively moved toward him. “Old Spice.,” she awe-muttered. “Where did you find that?”

“Dad’s stuff.”

Reaching back, he slid open the compartment, and Sedona stuffed her bag inside. “Goddess!” she warned. The searching lights of Homeland Security Hummers blazed in the distance Instantly, he closed the compartment, and she swung behind him.

“Tight,” he commanded as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Rebel?” she asked, just before he peeled out, then veered away
from the advancing headlight’s phalanx. Sedona squeezed her eyes closed, feeling the wind whip over her. When she opened them, they flew over the land. And off the highway. No wheels beneath them.

Cool as rare cucumbers, she thought.
Rich rebel?

Behind them she heard the drone trackers, the slight whistling. If she screamed to him about their presence, that would only make it worse, and make tracking them easier. Suddenly they soared through a narrow rock arch. And she heard the drones smash like giant wasps. Relieved, she sang inside with the temporary victory.

Slowing his cycle, her maybe rescuer executed a ninety degree turn to the left, then they streaked through an immense canyon. Sedona only knew because he beamed his lights, a dim wide-sweeping radiance. Slowing again, he slid them through a small cave entrance. Quickly they cruised a winding irregular path through cave tunnels.

Fear began in the pit of her stomach. But it was too late now. Was she about to be blood sacrificed to one of the New World Order cults? Their underground compounds snaked throughout the continent.

Her blood freezing at the thought, she also knew part of her didn’t care. Goddess help her, she was so tired, and so horribly worn out. The long sleep of death, who would care? Or, waking up on the other side to loved ones seemed more than welcome, just given her probable future. Too bad and so sad, in a bizarre way. From what she could feel clinging to him, the young man would be as movie star sexy as his voice.

Mmm-mmm, he did feel hunk-delicious.

Sacrificed by an evil could-be movie star, to the rise of the New World Order. There was something hideously ironic about that. But she couldn’t think clearly or cleverly what. Just too bad this wasn’t one of her fantasies. Where he starred as the good guy who wanted her body, wanted her real damn bad. Like Rhett carrying Scarlett up the stairs, bad. Wanted her body as it had once been, and hotly, passionately ravished her. Yeah, too bad.

Everything was too bad. The whole world was too bad, now. She tried to forget about her life, what had been. She tried to forget everyone, everything she’d lost. God, when she remembered, the horror of it all ripped through her, unbearable excruciating pain. Sedona wondered if the blood sacrifice would be as painful.

Most days she wondered how she even stood up, and kept going. Maybe her life, everything she’d endured, would be worth it, if she could save the world. Maybe worth it. Sedona had her doubts. Still, how often had she wished she could save the world, and truly help people? The number of stars in the sky? Oh, how she’d tried her best and with her whole heart. Now, she was just too darn old.

They stopped inside a small empty cavern. Warm, it was luminous enough to see. The cycle settled perfectly, and remained upright.

“We’ll walk the rest of way. Are you okay?” He removed his helmet and turned back to her when she released his waist.

“What are you going to do with me?” She leaned back, stared at his features, handsome and adorable. Almost magical.

“Protect you, angelic one.”

Sedona blinked, his voice inflection utterly unfamiliar
to her, not to mention the kindness of his tone. Swinging her leg over, she slid off the cycle. “You don’t want me for some sort of sick blood sacrifice?”

“I am not your enemy, Sedona.” He gleamed a brief smile, then easily dismounted. Opening the compartment, he took out her bag.

She stepped back, and kept staring. “How do you know my name. Or the name I now use?”

“I am on assignment. My sacred duty is to protect you.”

He lifted her bag beneath one arm, then faced her. Reaching out, he removed her hood, his touch extreme gentleness.

“Why?” she stammered, as much from his touch, as by his extraordinarily beautiful eyes. Purple
midnight
, silvered. He wasn’t merely Earth human. Whoever, whatever he was?

“The future of Earth depends upon it.”

“Are you sure?” Sedona cocked her head as strange tingles seized her flesh.

He smiled, beatific and devilish. “Haven’t you prayed for protection? A protector?”

“Sure, who hasn’t? I’ve also prayed to die.”

“Not time,” he murmured, compassion emanating from him, warm and comforting. “Are you hungry?”

“Always, these days. Haven’t mastered becoming a Breatherian.”

“Me either. We can eat, rest here for awhile. Then we’ll have to leave. They’re coming for you, Sedona. The Dark Masters of this world.”

“Dark Masters?” She let him take her hand, and walked beside him. “Do you mean the evil leaders of the New World Order?”

“Their Masters. They mistakenly believe if they eliminate Earth of the angelic ones, they will rule.”

“Won’t they? Not saying I am, what you seem to think I am.”

“For a splinter of time, only long enough to remove the entire population of Earth.”

“Another flood?” Sedona’s belly churned. Her head spun. She noticed they moved toward a bubble-like sphere. Somehow her feet stayed with him as he brought her inside. “Do you have a name? Geez, your hand feels strong.”

“All the better to protect you. Winds, Sedona. Unrelenting winds.”

“Oh.” She watched him put her bag down, perform an action that looked like he sealed them within. How silly, her hand felt empty without his.

“Temporary haven,” he explained. “By now, they’ll know I’m here.”

“And you are?” Suddenly lightheaded, she pressed her hand to her forehead.

He shook back flowing sable hair, and grinned, reminding her of Tom Cruise again, his role in Top Gun, not that he actually resembled the actor turned rebel leader.

“Call me Volcano here.”

“Here?”

“On Earth. Better if you don’t know my divine name.”

“Sure,” she half-mocked. “What’s in a name?”

“Frequency. Recognition. When you think of me, practice thinking of me as a human friend only.”

“Right, Volcano. I would have a human friend named Volcano.”

“Don’t a lot of you change your names now?”

“Yep, any tactic to fool big brother and get off the grid.”

He sat down lithely, cross-legged. “My lap?” he invited, smiled intimately, as a friend would.

Once her slight case of shock ended, Sedona shook her head ‘no’.

“Food,” he enticed, reaching into the side pocket of his jacket. Producing two wrapped bars, he held one out to her.

“What is it?” she asked, taking the foil-wrapped, Hershey-sized bar.

“Manna. You’ll like it.”

“Do you mean ‘manna’ from heaven?”

“Yep.” He seemed to taste the word. “Only a different flavor.” Unwrapping his bar, he bit off a large chunk as if he showed her it would be okay.

Sedona shrugged slightly, unwrapped, then sniffed the creamy bar. The fragrance of coconut made her drool. She took a teensy bite. It was manna from heaven, manna mai tai. She consumed it quickly, licking her fingers afterwards.

When the foil wrapper evaporated from her fingertips, she stared, mesmerized.. “Back to the ethers?”

“Sit on my lap, little girl,” he quipped. “And I’ll give you another one. Different flavor.”

“Little girl!” she began, but he smiled boyishly, waving the bar like a dog treat.

“Why your lap?” she demanded, then glared for good measure.

“I need your frequencies mixed with mine. More effective protection.”

The earnest brightness of his eyes, and her hunger, did her in. Sedona moved closer, and knelt down. After handing her the bar, he reached out, lifting her onto his lap. Tenderly, he positioned her so she faced outward.

“You’re comfortable, Volcano.” Entranced, Sedona watched the gold foil evaporate as she unwrapped the bar. “Good for the environment.” Tasting, she savored each bite. “Mocha.” Sedona nibbled slowly. “Can’t get this taste without being chipped.”