Exodus: Book Two: Last Days Trilogy (16 page)

Seth peered up. “Worse than I ever saw.”

“See?” Reggie pointed to him.

“He’s just covering for you. You’re fine.” Marcus turned the sword.

“I’m mad.”

“Get over it.”

Reggie gasped. “I can’t believe you’re talking to me like that.”

“Reg, you can’t do anything about him, so why waste your time getting mad?”

“I don’t need him.”

“How are you going to battle Devante without him?”

“Better than with him. He couldn’t care less.”

“Do you blame him?” Marcus stopped hammering and held his hand up to Reggie in a silencing gesture. “Do you? Think about it. How can you expect him to care about saving man when he’s never been man? Being an angel in a man’s body doesn’t make him a man. When he fought with his fellow angels, I bet he cared. Just like when we fight together, you’ll care. But... we can fight to save a species from extinction, but will we fight as hard if the species is not our own?”

Reggie closed her mouth. “I see your point. Probably not.”

“Thank you,” Marcus smiled.

“Can I still not like him anymore?”

“Reg, the guy is learning, give him time.”

Reggie put her hands on her hips. “Why are you defending him so much?”

“Um... Reg, God sent him. Okay? I’m giving him a little leeway.”

“Or, like my Dad says, he came from Harland’s Jell-O pit.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“I’m beginning to. I’ve been praying for God to take him back and He hasn’t yet.”

“Maybe there’s a reason.”

“Yeah, God didn’t send him in the first place.” Reggie shook her head. “I thought about it. If he’s an angel, really an angel, he’d be different.”

“What do you know about angels?”

“I’ve seen movies,” Reggie stated.

“Oh, sure, there. That’s proof. He’s an angel.”

“He’s a guy in a skirt with a dick attitude,” quipped Reggie. Seth giggled. “Watch, bet me he works for Devante.”

“You’re being this way because the guy pissed you off.” Marcus raised his mallet again. But before he could strike, Reggie grabbed it. “What’s wrong now?”

“Thank you.” Reggie stepped closer. “For letting me bitch to you.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, “you do.” She leaned up to kiss him.

“I like getting these kind of ‘thank you’s.’” He laid his hand on her cheek and tilted his head. “Much better than your cookies.”

“I thought you liked my cookies.”

“Not this much.”

The mallet fell to the floor as they kissed, until they found a pair of green eyes invading their space. Marcus jumped back. Reggie looked away.

“What was that you were doing with your mouths?” Michael asked.

Reggie bit her bottom lip, and snapped, “It was a kiss, you moron.”

“Reg!” Marcus covered her mouth.

Michael tilted his head. “It is not what I know a kiss to be. Your mouths connected and stayed. Why do you kiss like that?”

Marcus answered. “It feels good. It’s nice. People that care about each other... they do that. It’s just... a sign of affection you show to someone you’re really close to.”

“Will this be something you teach me, Reggie?”

Reggie laughed. “Yeah, right. No.”

“Why do you laugh?” Michael questioned.

Reggie looked skyward. “Why? Just shut up!”

Marcus recoiled. Reggie was rarely this angry.

“What is this... shut up?” Michael asked.

“Shut up?” Reggie stepped up to him speaking loudly. “Shut up means... be quiet, don’t talk. Say nothing!”

“Why do you not want me to speak?”

“Because I’m sick of you. All right? Sick and tired. I wash my hands of you, Michael the Archangel, or whatever the hell your name is.”

“You doubt my name?”

“Yeah, do you blame me? You haven’t proved it by me, that’s for sure. You come down here with your piss poor, arrogant, ‘holier than thou’ attitude.”

“Yes.” Michael nodded.

Reggie growled.

“Reggie. We should not yell. We are wasting time. We have work to do.” Michael reached his hand out to her.

Reggie swatted it away. “You don’t listen to me. You don’t hear a word I say, do you?”

“I am listening to you now.”

“Good. Then listen to this. I don’t want to work with you. I refuse to work with you. God’s intention or not, I am through with you. So stay away from me.” Reggie started to leave.

“Reggie?” Michael’s face showed surprise.

Marcus leaned into him. “Michael, I wouldn’t....”

“Reggie.” Michael repeated. “We are to be as one.”

Reggie stopped at the door. “Why would I want to be as one with someone I can’t even stand to be in the same room with?”

“I thought we were doing well,” Michael said, his voice faltering.

“No, we weren’t,” Reggie snapped. “Understand? I was being nice to you. Nice. It was an act. You get on my nerves. I don’t like you. You’re pompous and someone’s given you way too much credit. And if you are who you say you are, then you’re a big disappointment. You aren’t even one-tenth the hero you claim to be. You want to save mankind, Michael? Then save face and do us all a favor and bow out now! We’ll beat this on our own. We certainly don’t need you.”

Still raging, Reggie spun around, slammed opened the door with both hands and barged out.

Michael wrapped his arms around himself, his body twitching, as if trying to control his movements. His eyes closed tightly and his head started lowering. He gasped for breath, panting and turning white. He literally froze in his tracks.

“He has arrived,” Devante bellowed from atop the truck. He addressed the throng of people gathered at the camp, his voice thundering through the multitude. “Right now, he struggles with those he seeks to trust him. But this will change. He is sent from the dark side to steal my believers from me.” Devante paused and took a breath. “Fear persecution. Fear slaying. It is this dark one’s intention to build forces and strike out against you, my followers. And he will do so...” Devante bowed his head. “...in time. And without mercy. This is one reason I am here. To warn you. I look out amongst you and I listen. Some still do not believe. Why? You were spared while your homes burned. You are safe while the rest of the world lives in terror. Do not think you can hide. God sees you. And shortly, you will carry the mark of your disbelief, a thick mark of hatred, that shines to all those who believe in me. And for those who believe in me, when your sun rises tomorrow, you will see that I have stopped what your world of technology threatens you with. But not completely. In a few short hours, the ice of those countries will begin to melt. Flood waters will bring forth to the surface all those who have perished. And still one spark of their flame will fly. Only one.” Devante held up a finger. “It will strike against a city whose walls are packed with nonbelievers and wipe out the army that is two million strong against us.” Devante scanned the crowd slowly. “And when you see this, when you see that you are still standing, I exhort those of you who are yet undecided to join with us in building our own Army against this warrior who has come to see the destruction through. For though his army will be small, it will be strong. Our President has worked hard to secure those who fight to bring us down. He has imprisoned thousands of the evil ones, but he is only one man. You, my friends, are many. Our prisons are filled and we must prevent these prisoners from ever again seeing the light of day. The evil warrior seeks to free them, so they can turn against you and join his side. Tomorrow I will move on to the next camp and begin to build my forces. Tomorrow... I pray that you will join me.”

As Devante lowered his eyes and raised his arms to the crowd moaning his name, a spark, bright and blinding, shone upon him. Devante raised his head. He watched the sparkle of the sun behind him dance in the pale brown eyes of a man in the crowd.

The man stared back at Devante. As he did, Devante bent over ever so slightly and moaned, as if stricken with a knife in his gut.

The man in the crowd nodded arrogantly and smirked. He walked from the crowd and into the badlands next to the camp, alone.

Devante followed.

The man with the brown eyes was dressed simply in faded blue jeans, a tee shirt hanging over his belt. He was of average build, and stood about five foot six. His wavy hair extended just past his neck. He wandered far and didn’t stop until the people were in the distance.

With a determined expression, Devante strove to keep up with him and finally caught up to him. “You came into my camp,” he said.

The man stopped and faced Devante with a crooked smile, shrugging. “You came into mine.”

“You blend right in.”

“When haven’t I?” he snickered. “Your people call me... James.”

“You are smug. You take a great chance with so many of my people.”

He smiled and shook his head. “They can only kill the body.”

“Why is it that you do not fight in this great battle?”

“Me? I’m no expert. Spirit will defeat you. And the people you battle will have that spirit.”

Devante chuckled. “Not from what I see. Michael is failing. I see his supposed ‘chosen one’ hating him. Hating him.” Devante brought his face closer. “Is that in the plan?”

“As a matter of fact... yes. It works. It will work. It builds strength. There’s no hatred.”

“Not yet.”

“Never.” He winked. “Remember, I know all.”

“Still arrogant.”

“Hey...” He tossed up his hands and stepped back.

“You are frightened,” Devante said.

“Hardly,” he snorted.

“You will beg me to stop.”

“Oh, please. I doubt that...”

“Then why are you here... James?” Devante asked.

“To give you one last chance to back down.”

Devante laughed. “So, I see you came to amuse me as well.”

“I’m being fair. Since this time, your being will be destroyed forever.”

“I will win this. I am already on my way.”

“You think?” James nodded. “There are more out there than you realize.”

“There won’t be when I’m finished.”

“Continue to live your delusion. Go on. I’ll just...” he pointed backwards to the desert “...head on out. I just wanted to... antagonize you? Better word? Yes. I’ll be back with another good word to irk you,” he smiled. “But for now, goodbye.” He turned and started to walk

“You will return only to surrender.”

The man called James raised his hand and waved as he walked toward the high desert. The wind whipped up sand, and the heat wavered in the strong breeze like ghosts, distorting his figure as he disappeared from Devante’s sight.

Michael kept rubbing his eyes and looking up at the sun. He smacked his chapped lips over and over. He moistened them with his tongue, but they still stuck together. Marcus watched him flounder, silently, as Michael walked a few steps toward the backyard where Reggie was, then a few steps in retreat. When it looked like he had finally summoned enough nerve to confront her again, Marcus warned him.

“I think you’d better stay in the house, away from her, a little longer,” Marcus smiled.

“I am not certain I can, Marcus. I feel strange, as if I am pulled. It frightens me.”

Marcus shook his head dolefully. He understood.

Michael walked around in front, his mouth opening as if to call, but whatever it was could not escape his dry mouth. When he finally made it out back, Reggie was sitting in the grass in the distance. Michael froze, his head tilted awry, his breath failing him, and his hand went to his chest. He kept it there as if gauging his heartbeat, then approached Reggie, whose back was to him. He stopped again a few yards later, this time palming his gut and grimacing. His expression grew resolute and he kept moving toward her, but the second she seemed to sense him, Michael’s body twitched. He looked up to Heaven and whispered, “God, there is something wrong with this earthly form you have given me. It is becoming defective.”

Reggie heard him, but didn’t let on.

He continued over to the now reclining Reggie, who ignored him. He stopped. She didn’t look up as Michael opened his mouth. His attempt at speech produced only a few garbled cracks. His mouth opened and closed, his dry tongue once again licking at his dry mouth, his face expressing a sense of panic.

He cleared his throat weakly and plopped down next to Reggie. She huffed her displeasure and turned away.

“Reggie,” he said.

Reggie started to stand up.

“No.” He grabbed her arm. “Please do not go. Sit. Please.”

Reggie sat back down quietly.

“I know you do not want me to talk. I know you want me to do this ‘shut up’,” Michael said. “But I need to speak, although I do not know the exact words. May I try?”

Reggie fluttered her hand, assenting.

Michael grabbed at his throat, his head twitching again, and gazed down at Reggie. “I have wronged you somehow. A mortal wrong on my part, worse than any I could have done during my short visit to earth thus far. I have broken this spirit you carry, this spirit that lights a room. And for that I am sorry. Very sorry.”

“You didn’t break my spirit, Michael. You pissed me off.”

“I will take it that is another phrase for anger?” Michael questioned.

“Yes.”

“And I am sure, because I was this… ‘dick’?”

“Very much so.”

“Tell me Reggie, did I...‘suck’ as well?”

“That, too.”

“Can you not, as my teacher, tell me how to not suck anymore?”

“You can... you can just leave me alone and go away.”

As Reggie started to stand, Michael gasped in pain. She looked at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“There it is again. Reggie.” He looked at his chest. “My earthly form falls apart. Look.” He held up his hand. “It shakes. I cannot stop it. And feel...” Michael grabbed her hand and placed it on his throat. “Do you feel? I believe there is something in there. Uh!”

“What!”

“There it is again. This chest. Feel....”

“I don’t want to feel.” She tried to pull her hand away.

“Reggie, please.” Michael laid her hand on his chest. “Do you feel that? It hits me fast and hard. A thump.”

“It’s your heart,” Reggie said softly and pulled her hand away.

“What is wrong with it?”

Reggie closed her eyes. “Nothing. It’ll do that from time to time.”

“I fear something is wrong. This body feels... it feels bad… from the inside.”

“Michael,” she whispered.

“Perhaps your prayers are answered. Maybe God is calling me back. I don’t like this feeling.”

“I can try to make you better.”

“How?” Michael asked. “Do you think you can?”

“No promises, but...” Reggie brought her knees up, wrapped her arms around them and glanced at Michael. “I didn’t pray for God to take you back. You made me mad, but I’ll get over it. Okay? I’m not mad anymore. Just a little disappointed. In you and myself. And, we should try working together again.”

“You do not want me to leave?” Michael asked.

“No.”

“Ah.” Michael laid his hand on his chest. “Amazing. I feel better. Reggie, you are magical.”

“No, Michael, I am human.”

“Then we will work together again?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Reggie.” Michael turned toward her. “I must tell you something. You spoke falsely when you said I couldn’t care less if you lived or died. Reggie, I care very much if you live. I want you to know that.”

“Thank you.”

“It is the other men of this...”

“Michael?” Reggie interrupted. “Don’t,” She shook her head. “Don’t say that. Saying something like that started this.”

“It is a... ‘suck’ thing to say?”

This caught her unaware. She fell back on the grass, laughing uproariously.

Michael gawked at her. He laid backwards and rolled on his side, his face inches from hers. “What happened to you? Why did you lose your balance so quickly?”

Reggie laughed harder.

Marcus’s hand trembled at the kitchen curtain as he peeked outside at Reggie and Michael laying in the grass. He wanted to let go, wanted to quit this cheap eavesdropping, but he couldn’t. His eyes stayed glued to them laughing on the grass, eyes just inches apart.

“Punishment.” Eliza stood behind him, pouring a cup of coffee.

Marcus closed his eyes.

“I remember a seventeen-year-old boy telling me that he loved his best friend and he didn’t know what to do about it,” Eliza continued. “I believed you then and the love’s grown as you have.” Eliza paced over to the window and pointed to Reggie and Michael. “But now, look,” Eliza spoke coldly. “Your family’s gone and now that you finally have her, she’s going.” She turned to Marcus in indictment. “You’re losing her. Punishment, Marcus, and God’s making you watch the whole thing.”

Marcus swallowed and said nothing. What could he say? Part of him believed it. He was in a daze, listening to his mother as she left the room, and then suddenly he felt a fragile hand on his. With a painful smile, Marcus looked down. It was his Aunt Rose.

“You don’t listen to her. She’s talking through her grief.” Rose squeezed his hand. “It’ll be all right. But she keeps it up, I’m gonna have to yell.”

“She’s right. Look at them.”

“Marcus. I don’t need to and neither do you.”

“I can’t help it. I just got her and I’m already losing her,” Marcus said.

“Things happen for a reason. If you lose her, it’s for a reason. God may want this, but I believe it will pass.”

“Pass?” Marcus laughed. “I doubt it.”

“Well then, you look back out that window. Go on. But when you do, you see who he is. When you realize that, step back, take a breath and be patient. It will pass.”

Marcus glanced down to the old lady’s hand as she gave him one last reassuring double pat. Then he returned to his masochistic vigil.

“And ‘I bet’ is the phrase I use when I agree?” Michael asked.

“Yes. Well, no. Sort of. You’ll understand soon enough.”

“I will learn. From you.”

“Yes. And though these are common things, I’m glad to instruct you.”

“I am grateful. Though common, these will be useful when we gather soldiers. They will understand me better. Like how when I am angry or mad or want to exclaim surprise, I say,” Michael deepened his voice and exclaimed heartily, “Shit!”

“Good. It helps to be on their level.”

“Which is important,” Michael nodded. “I do remember the special Marcus line. When he is kind to me, or says something nice, I tell him he is a jerk.”

“Good. Now... how about you teach again? Battle skills.”

“I bet. First, I worry about your size. You are small.”

“My size?”

“Small,” he repeated. “I will teach you skills to defend and fight against bigger foes, so your size will work in your favor. Those who challenge you will be bigger. Stronger.”

“Yeah, but my Dad raised me. I can hold my own.”

“Hold your own what?”

“Another slang term. It means, I can do well for my size. I want to learn these skills, but don’t underestimate me. I have brought many men to their knees. So to speak.” She winked.

“You have brought men to their knees. Were they small men?”

“No.”

“What sort of weapon did you use?” Michael asked.

“My hands.”

“Your hands brought big men down? Were they injured in your defeat of them?”

Reggie gasped. “No,”

“I do not believe you can bring a man of my size to the ground. How?”

“Like this.” Reggie spun her back to Michael, stepped into him, reached back, grabbed his arm and, with a quick bend of her knees and a grunt, flipped him over her shoulder. He landed hard on the ground.

“Ha!” Reggie pointed down to him. “How’s that?”

Michael slowly rolled to his hands and knees and looked up at her. “Reggie, you must not move with such haste.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes you will have to flee from your hasty deed.” Michael glared at her.

When Reggie saw the look in his eyes, she said “Shit,” and took off running. Twenty-five yards away she felt, literally felt, Michael behind her. The ground vibrated as he closed in. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Michael running like a runaway train, just seconds away from her. Reggie braced herself for a tackle that would probably kill her. She felt her body jolt as Michael’s arm connected to the small of her back. But, it didn’t hurt, merely took her breath away. Then she felt only air beneath her feet. She elevated in a quick motion as Michael secured her waist and rolled her into him, chest-to-chest, and a rush of air filling her head as they soared horizontally.

She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. The two of them moved upward with exhilarating speed as she clenched Michael’s arms and held on.

“See, Reggie?” He looked into her eyes with a smile. “Do you still doubt I am an angel?”

Slowly, they stabilized, their speed diminishing, as he raised their bodies vertically and lowered them to the ground.

Reggie stumbled and clutched Michael as she felt the soft, sinking earth beneath her feet. She looked at him in awe. “You fly. Oh shit. You fly.”

“I do better with wings,” Michael said.

“Oh, wow.” Reggie trembled, laughing and in shock. “Oh shit.” She grinned wide.

“I assume you liked that?”

“I loved that,” Reggie gasped. “And…” She pointed to him. “You smiled.”

“I smiled?” Michael looked confused, then seemed to understand. “Yes. I smiled. I am glad I could share that with you. It is a step in our closeness. I must tell you though, in our embrace I felt...” Michael hesitated, lowering his voice. “I felt your chest thump against mine.”

“Oh, my heart was beating, all right.”

“Were you guilty? Feeling bad?”

It took Reggie a second before she understood his meaning. “No. See, a heart can beat fast for many reasons. Nervousness. Excitement. Fear. Happiness.”

“Which one of those was your reason?”

“All of the above. In a good way. That was really great. Thanks for sharing it with me.”

“I am glad you did not find that it sucked.”

Reggie laughed. “No, not at all. It made me feel good. Free. Like nothing I’ve ever felt.”

“You would like to feel it again?”

“Oh.” Reggie breathed out. “You bet.”

“Good. Because Reggie... walking would take quite a while.” He pointed over her shoulder.

“Huh? Holy shit.” Reggie looked behind her, they were on top of a cliff, miles of ocean.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” Reggie took a breath and stepped into Michael’s arms. “Hold onto me tight. Okay?”

“You bet.”

With one hand around her back, the other to her head, the Archangel Michael clutched her to his breast. Spinning rapidly, they lifted from the ground.