Goosebumps spread up my arms. “What the fuck are you talking
about?” Did he know about the voices?
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His expression grew colder as his eyes raked over me. “Are you
playing stupid, or are you really an idiot?”
How to answer? “Idiot, I guess.”
Cupid’s face broke into a wide grin. “So you really don’t know, do
you?” He laughed. “As much as it would make my day to ruin yours, I’ll
leave it to the Big Guy to fill you in. Good luck, dumbass. You’re going to
need it.” And with those dire words, Cupid disappeared in a puff of smoke
and cabbage fumes.
I waved a hand in front of my face. The stench dissipated, but his
words echoed in my brain. What was he hiding? And more importantly, what
the hell was I missing? Only one way to find out. I picked up the phone, and
dialed the Almighty.
Click.
“The number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please check
the number and dial again,” a voice prompted. A voice that sounded an awful
lot like God.
Fuck.
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Forty Six
I closed my eyes, letting the music of the night surround me. A
police siren screamed in the distance. The screams of two bums fighting over
a nearly empty bottle of booze in the alley rose through the open window.
The sound of glass shattering on the pavement echoed from below.
The bums began to wail, loud, piercing shrieks of loss.
In the apartment next door, a woman prayed with all her might. “Oh,
God. Please. Faster. Faster. Fuck meeee! ”
I shook my head. If God knew anything, it was how to fuck someone.
For eight months, I’d worked my ass off to protect the kid and save the
world. But the second shit went bad, God had turned his back. And why not?
The Second Coming meant nothing. It was a ploy, a gimmick to keep Him in
power. I was a dupe, and Lilith had died for nothing.
My fist slammed into the pillow. The seam split, and a cloud of
feathers spilled from the cotton sheath. The pillow’s meaningless demise
calmed me, even as the grief I’d kept at bay throughout the day surfaced.
Funny that Lilith had come to mean so much to me, yet I never really knew
her, or trusted her.
My hands traced the contours of the bed, remembering the hard
planes and soft curves of her body. Lust mixed with gut churning sorrow. For
a moment, overwhelmed by loss and insecurity, my sanity slipped away.
My feelings for Lilith hadn’t been a mistake like the cotton-candy-
clones I’d married. My love was deep. Pure. Real.
Wasn’t it?
I shook my head. Not like it mattered now. Loving a dead woman led
nowhere, or to jail. Thankfully, I wasn’t desperate enough to fuck a corpse
just yet.
“Mine?” The kid stood in the doorway, moonlight illuminating his
sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks.
“Go back to bed.” My voice sounded harsh, thick with pent-up
emotion and exhaustion.
The kid took a step closer to the bed. It was then that I noticed Bodhi
clutched in his arms like a teddy bear. What was it like to be the kid? To be
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nothing more than a sacrifice? A savior adored by millions, but so alone, he
clutched a dead cat for comfort.
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and pulled back the covers. “Come here.”
Not needing additional encouragement, he raced across the room and
dove beneath the blanket.
“Now go to sleep.” I settled in next to him.
A few minutes later, he fell asleep, the dead cat wrapped protectively
in his chubby arms. I did my best to ignore the smell of decaying feline and
after an hour, fell into a fitful sleep.
The voices started as I drifted off. Loud, hateful voices. She never
loved you, they whispered. I raised my hands to block their words, but had no
fucking luck.
Her blood is on your hands. The voices grew angrier. Just like those
you swore to protect. Your brothers-in-arms who died so you could live...
“No,” I mumbled in my sleep, fighting the rising flood of memories.
The broken body of David Klinger, a nineteen-year-old private on his first
tour in Iraq. His face perfectly preserved, farm boy innocent, but his eyes
were fixed and dilated. Dead eyes.
“Mine.” As suddenly as the voices appeared, they vanished. I opened
my eyes and stared into the sad face of the Messiah. His finger stroked my
forehead.
The image of David’s eyes faded from my mind. “Thanks,” I said,
groggily. A deep sense of contentment filled me. I sighed and snuggled
against the pillow. Everything was going to be fine. Just fine…
~ * ~
Awoke by a loud yowling, I shot from the bed, and slammed my
head into the headboard, almost knocking myself out. Still the pain in my
brain wasn’t as bad as the intense burning clawing up my leg.
I glanced down and screamed like a high school cheerleader on prom
night. A newly resurrected Bodhi cat’s thick claws were embedded in my
calf, and I swear the little bloodsucker was smiling.
I tried to shake him off, but he refused to budge. Instead, his claws
dug deeper, ripping chucks of flesh from my naked leg. Storming into the
kitchen, I pointed to the cat and my bleeding limb. “Next time no
resurrection.” I tugged at the growling cat. “He stays dead, you got me?”
The kid looked up, his mouth stuffed with X-shaped kitty kibbles.
“Mine?” The kid’s eyes dropped to the cat, and he began to chant happily,
“Mine, mine, mine, mine.”
The cat retracted his claws and leapt into the kid’s open arms. Great,
the two of them had bonded. Now, I’d never get rid of that cat.
Watching the kid and the cat, it hit me. I knew what I was destined to
do, consequences and God be damned.
Today was Jacement day.
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Forty Seven
My eyes scanned the rows and rows of rusted metal, and broken
automobile glass. Headlights, mufflers, and steering wheels littered the
ground below my feet. I sidestepped the rear-end of a Plymouth, narrowly
missing a protruding axel, and followed a giant across the automobile
graveyard.
My mission was simple. Find Lilith’s Gremlin, and get the fuck out
of town. I planned to ditch the angel in the middle of nowhere—Ohio, most
likely—and disappear with the Son of God. The kid deserved a chance, a
normal life. The world didn’t need a reminder of God’s love, not at the cost
of the kid. He’d given enough.
“Did you hear the one about the three Wise men—” the giant began,
his pale eyes glowing with humor. The name patch on his mechanic’s shirt
read Bob, but I had my doubts. No Bob was who he said he was.
“They were not that wise,” the angel argued. “What wise man does
not warn of the explosive properties of Myrrh?”
To hide my laughter, I poked my head into the babypack to check on
my charge. Bodhi hissed at the intrusion, but the kid just smiled,
unconcerned.
Bob stopped walking. “What’s with him?” He pointed to the angel.
“No sense of humor.” I s
hook my head sadly. “It’s a curse really. So
where is the car?”
“Beyond those busted up Pintos.” Bob pointed in a far off direction,
above waves of rusted car parts. “If I was you, I’d leave the baby here with
that weird blond dude. It can get hairy back there, and I wouldn’t want
anything to happen…”
Nodding, I unstrapped the babypack and handed it to the angel. “Do
not let the kid out of your sight.”
“I will give your life to keep him safe,” the angel reassured me with a
blank smile.
Great. I motioned for “Bob” to lead the way, and together, we
climbed the rusted metal piles like trained mountaineers. My boots slid
across polished fenders, crunched over broken windshields, and waded
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through a sea of yellow-foamed seat cushions, finally landing on solid
ground a few yards from Lilith’s prized Gremlin.
The Gremlin looked a little worse for wear, with a broken headlight,
and flat tire, which oddly improved the car’s overall appearance.
“How much to get it out?” I reached into my jeans for a wad of cash
borrowed from Lilith’s cookie jar. It wasn’t like she needed it anymore.
Bob scratched his scraggly beard. “Well there’s the impound fee,
cash in my hand.
“I’ll give you two hundred.” I smiled. “Cash. No paperwork, no fuss.
You give me the keys, and I give you the cash.”
“Deal.”
We shook hands, his lizard like one grasped in mine. Seconds later,
Bob passed me the Gremlin’s key. My throat constricted at the sight of it.
Memories of Lilith rose inside my mind, pictures of her wicked smile
and tattooed limbs. Her scent filtered across my senses, exotic tobacco, and
woman.
I swallowed hard, and took the key. It warmed in the palm of my
hand, heating so rapidly the edges burned my skin. Shoving the key into the
ancient ignition, I pumped the gas pedal and pummeled the dashboard.
Bob stared at me, a look of disgust etched in the lines of his face. A
look that said, ”let her go son. She’s way past her prime.”
As much as I might agree, the Gremlin would suit my needs. I
needed a way out of the city, and the Gremlin, flat tire and broken headlight
aside, would carry the kid and me through the Lincoln tunnel and into the
Garden of Evil State. Once inside New Jersey, I’d ditch the angel and shoot
up I-80, disappearing in the cornfields of Iowa.
Maybe I’d buy a farm some place, raise cows or something. The kid
could have a normal life; have friends and a chance to be more than a
sacrifice. I pictured the kid at eighteen, scared and desperate, as his sixteen-
year-old girlfriend says she might be pregnant. Hell, even that would beat
being stapled to a cross for a second time.
I twisted the key and waited for the gurgling engine to catch. Brrrrrr.
Grrrrr. Click. Click. Click.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Son-of-a-bitch,” I yelled, slamming my fists against the steering
column. I glared at the heavens. “WHY?”
“Sounds like the alternator.” Bob leaned in the Gremlin’s open
window. “Want me to take a look?”
I jerked open the door, causing him to jump back. The hood creaked
as I released the latch. Black, thick oil and grime like a decaying corpse
covered the engine block. Wires stuck out everywhere, and damn if I could
make any sense of it.
Bob had followed me to the engine. He gave a soft whistle. “It looks
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like rats chewed through your battery cables.” Pulling out a red-coated wire,
he shook his head.
Not rats, hamsters. Angry sky-falling hamsters.
“I can maybe rig it so it’ll start.” Bob shrugged, his giant shoulders
bobbing up and down like the Golden Gate Bridge in an earthquake.
I closed my eyes, and took a Zen-calming breath. It didn’t help.
Fuck. “Do it.” I shoved another hundred dollars at him.
He glanced down at the money and smiled. “You ever hear the one
about the soldier and Saint Peter?”
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Forty Eight
“Okay boy, you hold that wire tight while I start her up.” Bob nodded
at the red wire clutched in my grease-coated hand.
I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead. “I’m not going to get
fried, right?” As much as I wanted the Gremlin fixed, I couldn’t shake my
distrust of the overly friendly Bob. What kind of mechanic only charged a
hundred bucks?
Bob grinned at me and my perspiration covered sweatshirt. “You got
insurance?”
I shook my head. “The car’s not mine.”
“I meant life insurance, boy.” His booming laughter bounced off the
metal stacks of cars, making my head ache. “Now you hold tight,” he said,
crawling into the driver’s seat of the Gremlin.
A sudden shock of electricity curled around my body. My arms
danced, jerking like an electrocuted toad as the wire dropped from my burnt
fingers. The unattended wire sparked once, twice, and went still.
The Gremlin’s engine followed suit. It jerked once, twice, and with a
sputtering cough died. A slow whistle of steam burped from the radiator, but
that was the extent of its resurrection.
Fuck.
“Damn, I thought we had it.” Bob maneuvered his large frame from
the driver’s seat. “Did you let go of that wire, boy?”
like you said.” For the most part. “How about we try it one more time?”
“Fine.” Bob raised an eyebrow like he didn’t quite believe me. “But
if I see you let go of that wire, I’m gonna pound ya.”
I grinned. “Why don’t you hold it, and I’ll start her up?”
Instead of answering, he dropped back into the Gremlin and gave me
a thumbs up. I closed my eyes, grabbed the hot wire, and prepared for a few
thousand volts.
Buzz. Zap.
The skin on my fingers melted into the red-coated plastic. Pain
seared from the battery to my brain, every nerve ending sparking with
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General Electric power.
Bzzzzz. Crack.
The ends of my hair danced high above my head. Electrical sparks
shot from my toes, scorching my black leather boots and the ground beneath
them. My teeth slammed together, crunching under the brutal assault.
Boom!
Fire exploded underneath my hands, and the Gremlin vaporized
before my eyes. Simmering waves of hot air and a violent barrage of Gremlin
parts and Bob epidermis splattered me.
Fuck.
A bomb, I thought, seconds before blackness devoured me.
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Forty Nine
“What the fuck did you do to my car?” a woman screamed in my
newly restructured eardrums. The blast had scrambled all five of my senses,
and even addled my sixth sense.
I now saw dead people.
And boy did Lilith look angry. Beautiful, but pissed. But appearance
could be deceiving. Or not, I thought as the palm of her hand smacked me in
the bac
k of the head.
“Lilith?” My voice sounded overused, like a teenaged girls favorite
CD. I rubbed away the black soot staining my eyes. Was I dead? Had the
explosion killed me?
“No, stupid.” Lilith chuckled, swiping at her mud covered sleeve.
“You’re not dead, and neither am I. Next time make sure the resurrection
didn’t take before you bury me.” She bent down beside me. “Your pant leg’s
on fire.”
“God, I missed you.” I slapped at the burning denim, and smiled.
Having her next to me felt right, like the world was finally in order. Of
course, I’d just cheated death, so that might have been part of it.
“I missed you too.” She pulled me to my feet, and held me while my
equilibrium caught up with the rest of my body.
My fingertips traced the curve of her neck, feeling the tattooed ink
under the pads of my fingers. The blood rushing in my ears dispersed lower,
filling my thoughts with lustful visions of Lilith naked under me.
Again she read my mind, and pushed my wayward hands away.
“Now’s not the time for a reunion. Someone just blew up my car.”
I weaved back and forth, shaking Bob parts from my ear canal. “And
Bob too.”
“Who’s Bob?”
“That’s Bob.” I pointed to a blackened spot on the ground where
pieces of charred Bob had landed. “He looked better before, but not by
much.”
Lilith shot me a look, anger burned in her eyes. “How can you joke?
You nearly died.”
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I shrugged. “I’m getting used to it. Bright white light. Sweet smell of
roses. Saint Peter and a harp.” Frowning, I added, “Tell me, when did
Heaven start smelling like a whorehouse?”
Softly Lilith’s hands brushed the battered, broiled skin of my face,
running over the edges with careful grace, or dare I think it, love. “Are you
sure you’re all right?” she asked, biting her lower lip.
No, I wasn’t all right. My dead lover was alive, leaving me with a
thousand questions and a million insecurities. What if our feelings had been a
fluke, a desire to protect the kid that turned into more? What did I really
know about my demon lover?