Confronting the Fallen (9 page)

Chris set aside his anger for the moment. It
wasn't easy. “Yeah, maybe. They approached me a few months
later.”

“And what about the birds?” the judge
asked, watching Chris intently.

Chris was startled again. “Wow, you guys
sure do your homework, don't you? Yeah, the birds.” He waited a
moment, gathering his thoughts. “Stupid birds,” he
muttered, then he looked at the judge again. “I think it wasn't
long after the thing with the puppy that they began to follow me.”

“The birds?” the judge asked as Chris
hesitated.

“Yeah, the birds. Doves, seagulls, pigeons;
it was ridiculous really. It became a joke on the street. 'Chris the
Bird Boy' some of them started calling me. Anytime I'd stop for a few
minutes, some bird would end up landing at my feet, or on my
shoulder.” He gave a snort of self-mockery. “I definitely
looked like a weirdo after that.” Chris thought about it for a
moment. “Funny thing though; it was never any of the black
ones, you know; crows, ravens, birds like that. Pretty strange,
right?”

The judge shrugged. “I wouldn't say that,
Christopher. Many people would envy someone that could attract wild
animals like that. They would consider it a gift.”

Chris laughed shortly. “Yeah, some gift. Do
you know how hard it is to hide from somebody who's after you with a
flock of birds cooing and chirping around you? It's impossible. I
know because it happened a few times. Stupid birds,” he
muttered again.

The judge looked amused but didn't laugh. “Yes,
I see how that could be inconvenient, even dangerous.” He
stretched a bit again and sat back in his chair. “Thank you for
telling me these things, Christopher. I appreciate your candor. As I
said earlier, we believe these talents of yours could help us in the
struggle ahead. You have a way with animals. Believe me, that could
be very useful.” Chris couldn't see how but he didn't
interrupt. “And, even more importantly, you have the gift of
healing.”

“Healing?” Chris was startled. “Is
that what that was, with the puppy?” The judge nodded solemnly.
“Huh. Healing. I just thought it was...well, I'm not sure what
I thought. A fluke maybe, or a coincidence. Well, until the same
thing happened with one of those damned birds.”

“Coincidence is not a concept I believe in,
Christopher. Your touch somehow channeled living energy into that
puppy and healed it. At least, that is my belief.” He cocked
his head to the side. “You healed a bird as well?”

“A couple, actually. Stupid things keep
flying into buildings.” He rolled his eyes and the judge looked
amused.

“So you see? You have the gift, young man.”

Chris was shaking his head. “That isn't
possible, sir. I mean, sure, in stories maybe. But how could someone
actually do that? Heal something with a touch? And what about...what
I did to those guys in the diner? That sure wasn't healing; I
practically killed them.” He stopped and thought deeply for a
moment. “And how did I know that I could do that?” he
said to himself.

“Yes, the diner. Well, I would say that what
you did in the diner was to reverse your healing power; it is the
same thing really. Instead of helping, you harmed.” The judge
gave Chris a piercing look. “I doubt that it was pleasant.”

“It was horrible,” Chris answered
bluntly. “I ended up almost puking not long after that. I felt
the same way after the puppy and the birds.”

“Well,” said the judge, “now we
come to it. The reason that you are here, and the reason that we
believe your help in the coming conflict would be essential.”

Chris found himself holding his breath as he
waited for the judge to explain.

The man caught Chris' gaze. “We believe that
angelic souls are being born into human bodies. And we believe that
you, Christopher, are one of them.”

Chris
stared at Judge Hawkes, waiting for the punchline to the joke he had
just made. But the man simply stared back at Chris calmly, not saying
a word. Finally Chris felt compelled to speak.

“
Sir,”
he said, trying to sound reasonable, ”what exactly does that
mean? Angelic souls being born in human bodies makes it sound like,
well, like angels are coming to life as humans.”

“
Exactly
right, young man. That is precisely what is happening.”

“
That's
impossible,” Chris replied flatly. “I don't even believe
in angels. And as for them being born as humans? If they do exist,
why would they want to do that? We're weak, mean-spirited, not to be
trusted. No one, especially not an angel, would want to be born as
something like that.”

“
I
think you are seeing humanity through the eyes of your experiences on
the street, Christopher,” the judge said gently. “Humans
have many saving graces; their capacity to love, their willingness to
sacrifice themselves for others, their loyalty. The list goes on.
Please don't mistake the evil of some as a definition of the whole.
It is not.”

Chris
sat back, considering the man's words. Was he judging everyone by
some of the slime he'd had to deal with over the last couple of
years? He tried to be objective; tried to think like his Dad would
have. He sighed to himself. The judge was right. He was lumping the
good with the bad, and that was unfair. But still...angels? He looked
at the judge.

“
You're
right, sir. It isn't all or nothing when you're dealing with people.
But to believe angels would be born in human bodies? That's another
thing entirely.”

“
I
understand your skepticism, Christopher. I would be surprised, and a
bit alarmed, if you accepted what I was saying at face value. So, I
suggest that you stay with us for a while. Get to know the staff and
the other young people here. See us for what we are, close up. And if
you aren't convinced that we are telling you the truth, well then,
you can be on your way.”

“
Stay
here?” Chris was suspicious again. “For how long?”

“
Oh,
a week, maybe two. It's up to you. You wouldn't have to attend
classes or participate in any activities that you didn't want to.”
The judge gave Chris another piercing look. “And you are, of
course, free to leave at any time; no strings attached.”

Chris
thought about it for a minute. “So, say I wanted to leave right
now. Could I?”

Judge
Hawkes nodded and looked serious. “If that is your choice, then
yes. Of course. I will have a car brought around and a driver will
drop you off in Ottawa; anywhere you wish.”

The
man picked up his phone. “You might want to head back to your
room and grab your belongings. You can meet the car down at the front
entrance.” He started punching in a number.

“
Whoa,
wait a second!” Chris said quickly. “I didn't say I
wanted to leave. I just asked if I could.” The judge stopped
dialing and Chris shook his head. “Gees, sir, you don't waste a
lot of time, do you?”

The
judge put the device back on the desk. “Of course not,
Christopher. I told you; you aren't a prisoner here. I will not have
someone thinking that we are some sort of military organization, or a
shady criminal group, or something even worse. We are exactly what I
have said we are. No more and no less.” The man sat back and
glanced at his watch. “Now, for the moment, I need to know if
you wish to stay or do you want to go?”

“
I...I'll
stay, sir. For a little while. You're right. I do need to get to know
you all before I make a decision. And I hope you don't think I'm
ungrateful for what you've done for me. I just...need a little time.”

The
judge smiled warmly. “I appreciate your candor, young man. Take
your time, look around. I promise that you are safe here.” His
smile widened as he picked up several papers. “At least stay
long enough for Chef to feed you up a bit.”

Chris
laughed. “Yes sir, I'll do that.” As he headed for the
door, Chris suddenly remembered something and turned back to the
judge.

“
Um,
sir?”

Judge
Hawkes looked up from his papers in surprise. “Was there
something else, Christopher?”

“
Yes
sir. One of the guys I met earlier mentioned something about a test?”

“
Ah
yes.” The judge frowned slightly. “It isn't something we
usually discuss. However, yes, there is indeed a test that we
administer before we accept a new member.” The man smiled
again. “But until you decide on whether you wish to join us or
not, there is no need to worry about it.”

“
Oh,
okay.” Chris realized that the man wasn't going to explain
further and thanked him and turned to leave.

The
judge wished him a good day and Chris left the office, surprised at
how much better he felt. He was actually looking forward to spending
some time not looking over his shoulder, like he did most days on the
street. He had learned to keep his emotions in check and put thoughts
of Talon and of his parents aside for the time being.

It
should be an interesting few days, he thought and he headed off to
find the games room.

Chris
spent the rest of the afternoon playing video games, after having a
great lunch with Tyler and Jacob. Occasionally, another teen or two
would wander into the room, say hello and start playing a game. Two
older girls smiled at him when they entered and got into a serious
game of chess. Chris stopped playing for a while and watched. They
were very good. He was called on his phone to remind him when dinner
time rolled around and he headed off happily, looking forward to some
more of Chef's excellent cooking.

Once
the amazing lasagna was polished off, Chris headed back to the games
room, accompanied by his two new friends. They played for an hour or
so, then Tyler reminded Jacob that they still had a lot of homework
to do. So, after some grumbling, the two boys said good night to
Chris and left.

Chris
looked around the room. His phone showed him that it was only
seven-thirty, but all the other teens had already headed off to do
schoolwork. He felt a bit lonely and was surprised at himself.

You've
been alone almost three years, he thought. What's the big deal now?
You're safe, you're fed and you can do whatever you want. So what's
the problem?

He
had no answer to the question but the games room suddenly felt too
big and empty to spend any more time in. He thought about the library
but he wasn't really in the mood to read. What I need, he thought, is
to get some fresh air.

He
wondered whether he would be allowed to go outside and look around.
The judge had said he was a guest, but did that mean he could come
and go as he pleased? Chris decided to find out.

When
he left the room, he checked the map on his cell to be sure he knew
the route to the front door. Even so, he took a few wrong turns
before finally reaching the big, central room with the two staircases
that he had seen on his arrival. From there, it was a straight walk
down the main hall to the entrance.

Chris
saw another woman sitting at the desk next to the front door. When he
approached her, she looked up from her computer screen and nodded
amiably.

“
Good
evening, Mr. Wright,” she said briskly. “I'm Ms. Quaid.
What can I do for you?”

“
Um,
hi,” Chris said hesitantly. “I was just wondering if it
would be okay if I went outside.” The woman raised an eyebrow
and Chris hurried on. “You know, for some fresh air? I'm not
used to being cooped up inside all day.”

Ms.
Quaid smiled and looked like she understood how he felt. “Certainly,
Mr. Wright. This house can be a little...overwhelming for newcomers.
One needs to get out on occasion, clear one's head. You aren't locked
in, after all. But I will ask that you check in with whomever is
manning the front desk, as you are doing now, when entering or
leaving.” She tapped a few words into her computer, then looked
back at Chris.

“
When
you exit, there will be someone near the door. Tonight it should be
Mr. McKenna. Just tell him who you are, and he'll take it from
there.”

She
obviously noticed Chris' look of confusion and said gently, “The
Nest is kept under tight security at all times. We have patrols on
the grounds and Mr. McKenna will have to notify them that you are out
and about, so you aren't stopped and questioned.”

“
Oh,
I see,” Chris said. He had wondered why he needed to check with
anyone if all he was doing was getting some air. “No problem,
Ms. Quaid. I'll make sure I talk to him first thing.”

“
Excellent.
Well, off you go. Enjoy your stroll.” She nodded and went back
to staring at her computer screen.

Chris
headed for the door. It was huge but opened easily and smoothly,
making no noise at all. Once outside, he looked around for the man
that Ms. Quaid had mentioned. But before he had a chance to do more
than glance around, a tall, dark-skinned man with black hair, wearing
the usual dark suit that most of the staff seemed to wear, was
standing in front of him.

“
Good
evening,” the man said with a polite nod. “May I help
you?”