Wings of Destruction (2 page)

"In a strange way, yes." Martin couldn’t explain why he bore an attachment to Ragnor. His shoulders slumped as he thought of the city meeting its end. It was one thing to choose death, but quite another to decide the fate of everyone else in the city.

"You were about to end your life. Are you saying you didn’t mean to take your own life?"

Martin shook his head. "No, I meant to die. I want out of this wretched world. It’s not for me. Yet the end of the world, the end of everything—do you know how many people will suffer?"

"There is still a chance for a reprieve. If you can show me the redeeming features of this world and its denizens, I can report to Archangel Gabriel that he was mistaken. That’s why I need you, Martin Farrow. I cannot traverse this world alone. I need you to help me in my investigation. Show me why you want to keep this world alive. Convince me, and you may yet save your species."

"How do you know my name?" It was the least of Martin’s concerns, and yet the only one he could stand to contemplate. The world’s fate resting on his shoulders was simply too much of a prospect to consider.

"Angels know a lot of things.”

"Then you know that I’m a freak. You need someone normal to show you around. I can’t speak for the human experience."

"All the better." Anael rested his hand on Martin’s shoulder, squeezing gently. "I want you to be my guide. There are no freaks in the eyes of God, Martin. You are as you are because He made you that way."

"Where was God when I asked for His help?" Martin looked down at his muddy feet.

"He rests between acts of Creation, sleeping for a thousand years on the Sabbath. If your world is to be destroyed, He will awaken to rebuild it again. Everything that happens in-between is the purview of the angels."

"If God destroys this world... He won’t give the human race another try, will He?”

"Probably not." Anael turned away from Martin to survey the scene. "You have been a troubling experiment. Even more so than the dinosaurs. The evil you are capable of is far greater than He could have imagined."

"True enough." Martin looked across the cityscape, thinking about the gangs and the slaves, the murders and the rapes. Would it be such a terrible thing if the world was destroyed? Financial collapse had all but destroyed civilization anyway. Would it be so horrendous to stop the suffering and wipe the slate clean? He turned and looked at Anael, purple eyes sparkling with an innocent grace. What he was about to see could only have one outcome. He was an angel from Paradise who was about to witness the worst Hell had to offer.

"I’ll do it," Martin said. "I’ll show you the worst of this cruel world and then you can decide for yourself."

*~*~*

The rain stopped as they descended Spire Rock. Martin’s first goal was to get them both back to his house without being harassed. Anael would need clothes if he was to survive more than five minutes. Martin needed to get out of the wet garments that now hung from his body like a leaden weight. They stood out like two sore thumbs. Martin was ready to run if they drew attention.

Sure enough, two goons stepped out from behind a building as they entered the city limits. Martin put out a hand to stop Anael. The goons wore gas masks to hide their identities and held nailed clubs in their hands. Matching red uniforms finished their costumes, a red that signified the color of the Scrapers, the gang that ruled these parts.

"What’s the toll?" Martin asked. "I don’t want any trouble."

One of the men chuckled and walked up to Anael, pulling a feather from one wing. "What the hell is this? Some kind of costume?" Anael pulled his wing roughly away.

"Oh, you’re going to give us an attitude, huh?" The other goon rounded on Anael. Chains hung from his pants, and Martin could see he had a small patch of human scalp complete with hair attached to his belt.

Martin grabbed Anael’s hand. "Run!" The pair darted through the city streets, crushing overgrowing weeds and detritus in their path. The gang members had more stamina however, and seemed to be gaining on them at an alarming rate.

Anael grabbed Martin and swooped up into the air, out of reach of the thugs. He landed on a rooftop and set Martin down. The gang members screamed curses at them from below. They climbed up a rusted stairwell, anxious to reach the roof and their prey. Anael readied himself to fight, but the sickening screech of twisted metal interrupted his concentration. He rushed to the edge of the building to see the stairwell hit the ground. The rusted metal had been unable to take the gang members’ weight and they had fallen to their deaths. Anael looked down at the two corpses with sadness, shaking his head before turning back to Martin.

Anael brushed dirt from his wings as he stood on the rooftop, looking across the landscape. Martin came up behind him. Without warning, Anael grabbed him and took off, landing on the concrete below with expert precision.

"Come on, we should get back to my place. Ragnor is even more dangerous after dark.” Martin led the way through battered streets. Anael looked around him in fear and awe, absorbing the dangerous city limits with a child’s wonder.

"Are those vile thugs a normal problem in this city?” Anael asked.

"Yeah. Most of the residents belong to one group or another. Safety in numbers, or something like that. I couldn’t stomach the thought of being owned."

"Owned?"

"Essentially being a slave, answering the sexual needs of other gang members."

"Repulsive." Anael shook his head. "People voluntarily submit to this?"

“They're scared. Being alone is dangerous. If you have a mate lay a claim on you, it’s not so much of a problem, but I don’t. I’m easy pickings for whoever decides they want me."

"That is why you attempted suicide?"

"Partly, yes. This world is no picnic, Anael. Especially for someone like me.”

"And yet you want this world to be saved? I can feel the reluctance to destroy all this inside of you. Why?"

"I don’t know." Martin shook his head. "I should want this world to be destroyed. It’s brought me nothing but pain. Yet I can’t bear the thought of killing so many. There are good people out there, Anael. People who want to make the world a better place.”

"There is a place in Paradise for all good people. The evil ones will suffer, as they should, but you—I believe there is a better place for you.”

Martin shrugged, the remnants of this morning’s dark cloud washing over him. He didn’t feel like he deserved a better place. Despite Anael’s intervention, he still longed for the peace of eternal darkness.

*~*~*

The house was cold, but Martin was grateful for the slight comfort of home. Anael sat himself down on Martin’s worn, brown couch while Martin changed into dry clothing in his bedroom. Water was leaking into a bucket from a hole in the roof and Martin listened to the steady dripping as he dressed. He found some clothes for Anael to wear and took them into the other room, tossing them to the angel sitting on his sofa.

"You might want to wear these."

The rags hit Anael in the leg. He looked over them as though they were alien to him, holding the t-shirt upside down. ”I have no need for clothing. I have nothing to hide."

"You do in this world. You may have no sexual organs, but that won’t stop the gangs from being interested in you as a sex object. They won’t care if you have the capacity for pleasure."

Anael slipped the pants on, but Martin quickly realized the t-shirt would need some modifications. He produced a knife and cut slits for Anael’s giant white wings, as tall as the angel himself. He gently slipped the shirt over Anael’s wings and head, pulling it down over his body with tender care.

"There. Not much we can do about the wings, but it makes you a little less conspicuous, at least."

"Thank you." Anael flexed his wings, testing the shirt, which stretched tightly against his abs in an almost comical fashion. For a non-sexual being, he was the perfect sculpture of a man. Martin felt the stirring of a yearning that had nothing to do with sexual hunger.

"Would you like something to eat?” Martin asked.

"I have no need to eat or sleep, but you need both. I will stand guard while you rest."

"Thanks." Martin sighed with relief. He’d slept with one eye open since his last mate had left, and the tiredness was wearing him down. With Anael guarding the house, he could sleep in peace. He made a basic meal of grains and watery soup, then lay down on his mattress to rest. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He dreamt of Anael’s wings enveloping him in a protective embrace, and woke with a warm feeling spreading through his veins. He stretched out and stood up, walking into the battered kitchen where Anael was standing at the counter.

"You’re awake. Then I should be on my way." Anael brushed past Martin as he approached. "I’ve decided to go on my own from here. It is not right for me to endanger you for the sake of my mission."

Martin sighed. "I want to go with you, Anael. Please. I know more about this world than you.”

"I can protect myself. I have divine powers.”

Martin rested his arms on the counter, lowering his head. "I want to help you. Just yesterday you were saying that the fate of the world might rest on my shoulders. Now you’re just leaving?"

Anael walked over to the counter. He reached his hand out and lifted Martin’s chin gently, so that their eyes met. Martin saw the wisdom of ages in Anael’s eyes and was awestruck by it.

"I have to go. It wouldn’t bode well for me to become too attached to the species I may very well have to destroy." Anael let go of Martin’s face, turning away and heading for the door. Martin watched as he left, wanting to follow, but haunted by the ghost of Anael’s touch. Nobody, even his former mates, had touched him with such tenderness and care. Stunned, all he could do was watch as the angel who had saved his life walked swiftly out of it.

Martin paced his house. Food was running low, but the thought of going outside alone to forage for more terrified him. His sleep was restless, and he spent most nights wandering around his broken shell of a hovel, wondering what might have become of Anael. Was he safe? Had he been captured? The world hadn’t ended yet, but that was the only thing Martin could be sure of.

He wished he had followed Anael the day he had walked out, and now it was too late to follow. Martin wouldn’t know where to begin searching for him if he tried. A week had passed and he could be anywhere. Anael might not even be in Ragnor anymore. Perhaps he had passed on the Apocalypse and given the human race another chance.

Or perhaps he had been captured.

The thought of what the gangs might do to a beautiful being such as Anael made Martin sick with worry. He woke from a restless slumber and shuffled into the kitchen. He froze as he heard a can hit the ground and ducked behind the sofa. A figure in a dress looked around the kitchen. Martin wondered if she was foraging for food. He grabbed a stick that he kept in lieu of a real weapon, and cursed as he kicked a discarded bottle in his haste.

The woman turned around in the half-light, the moon overhead shining into the broken kitchen window and casting her in silhouette.

"I mean you no harm!" The woman’s voice had a low timbre to it. “Are you Martin Farrow? Anael needs your help."

Martin dropped the stick and darted forward, grabbing the woman’s large shoulders and resisting the urge to shake them. "Where is he?"

"He’s a captive of the Scrapers gang." The woman pulled herself free from Martin’s grip. "Anael helped me escape from them. The things they’re doing to him..." She produced something from inside her dress and handed it to Martin. It was a bloodstained white feather, torn and battered.

"Take me to him." Martin felt a surge of courage build up inside of him at the opportunity to take action.

"You’re going to rescue him?” The woman scoffed and shook her head. "No. Anael’s request was for you to go to Spire Rock and call for Gabriel. He said something about calling for the end. I’m Sarah, by the way. The Scrapers were keeping me as a concubine." Long, dirty blonde hair covered scars on her face and shoulders. Her face was no picture of beauty, her jaw too square to be feminine, yet there was a grace in the way she held herself that said she had no time for self-pity. A red scarf covered her neck and a well-worn dress dragged the ground.

"Sarah, Anael has come here to assess this world for destruction. He’s a real angel, sent by God to initiate the end of the world."

"The end of the world, you say? About damn time, don’t you think?" Sarah shrugged.

"We’ll all die," Martin protested.

"Anael came from Heaven, right? There has to be a place for us. Something much better than this. I think even Hell would have nothing on Earth right now. At least the flames would be warm." Sarah looked down at the ground, hiding her pain.

"It would spell the end of humanity, forever."

"Look around you. Humanity already ended. These are the final days. I think Anael must agree, right now. If you care for him, you’ll do as he says. Every moment in that living nightmare stains his immortal soul."

Martin fumbled with a crack in the wall, pulling away the drywall to retrieve a small box. One of his mates had given it to him for self-protection. He opened the box to reveal a handgun. Martin had thought he could never use such a weapon, but he knew where he was going it was do or die. He loaded the bullets as he had been shown. He wasn’t confident he could shoot someone, but it felt good to have some kind of weapon just in case.

He only hoped he could save Anael, or he’d die trying. Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. Better than the emptiness of his life, at any rate.

*~*~*

It was raining again as the unlikely pair headed out onto the streets. Martin didn’t like to venture into the dark. He could hear the howling of wild dogs and the gang members who mimicked them in the distance. Once upon a time, they had liked to run people down with motorcycles, but the last remaining gas had long since run out, leaving the hunters to chase down their prey on foot.