Chapter 15 #2
“You believe so strongly,” Dina murmured as he flapped his wings, slowing his glide but looking ahead at the brown dust of the Earth, the shrubs, and the cacti with pickled pears gleaming, “in God's love.” He didn't know why he said it like he didn't understand. Dina was an angel, and yet faith felt so foreign to him. He supposed there wasn’t much to have faith in if you’d seen the Lord’s face.
Angels didn’t need to believe in God; they needed to fear him.
“Thank you. I do. It’s what helps me find peace.
Life hasn’t been easy for me, and— Uh. Well, when I— When I returned from the dead, I wasn’t like this.
I spent an entire year here, in this place.
I ate the cactus, and I ate snakes, and I ate soldiers.
I was so angry that I thought I’d die. But then I returned home, and I stole from every place I went to.
I didn’t care who I hurt. Joana found me.
After that, I also started going to mass again.
It was the only thing that would make me feel better.
I told myself that at least God loves me.
At least God will accept me. He made this beautiful world, and we must keep it beautiful.
And He put us here to fight. My father used to say we’re here to work, and that’s true.
He also said we’re here to take care of our home and each other; that is what He made us for. ”
“I… hope you are right. I hope that is what the Lord has always wanted.” What else could Dina say? “I would like to think so.”
They didn't encounter anyone, though they did hear a faraway buzzing that they assumed was from the faraway road. Many times, the angel turned back, and he’d catch some grass rustling, and a few instances, he considered flying closer, but the boy would kick his horse into a gallop and Dina would choose to follow.
It was surely just an animal — a javelina or a deer or a snake.
He didn’t mind that. Thus far, he’d found animals to be wondrous and kind.
If Heaven were full of animals, it would indeed be Heaven.
At sunset, the boy, horse, and angel settled by a sprawl of prickly pear cactus and agaves.
Tadeo reached into his backpack, retrieved a foldable silicone bowl, then set it over the ground.
Then, he reached for one of the jugs of water attached to the horse and uncapped it to pour into the bowl.
“Drink,” he urged the mare, who whined at him, stomped her foot. “Please.”
Above, the sun was creeping toward the horizon with a crowd of yellowing, pinkening, and every shadow was leaking out further from its source, as a stroll of wind ruffled the feathers of Dina’s wings.
He hadn’t tucked them in yet and they cast a dark silhouette on the ground that distorted the shape of his body into something larger than it was.
Beside him, Tadeo opened the pack with the food he’d rolled up in aluminum.
He’d brought a portable stove, but the boy didn’t bother using it today.
Instead, he began setting up the tent, at the same time he took bites from a cold, bean and cheese taco, asking Dina if angels slept in beds up in Heaven.
“We invented beds,” Dina answered softly. ‘We invented most things… first.’
Apsinthos finally spoke: ‘All that humans have done are derivatives of what angels have done.’
‘You sound like Uriel,’ Dina replied, setting down into a crouch, watching the Azteca nuzzle her nose against the water. ‘But maybe he was right that the humans were created to replace us.’
With a huff of exhaustion, Tadeo moved between his tent and outside, removing his hat and fanning his face for a moment just as he was turning to Dina, opening his mouth and waving the last of his taco, before he faltered.
He blinked, eyes widened, as he looked at something right beside the angel.
“What–?” left Tadeo’s mouth, then, “Hey! I saw you, fucker!” Dina turned back curiously, listening to the sharp noises of the mare beside him at the undeniable sound of feet padding the ground, of someone hurrying back.
“Oh my fucking God, it’s you?” In his dark green pants, hefty black boots, and the same open army jacket he’d donned as he shot Tadeo to pieces — the soldier was cursing, reaching down to grab the bike that he’d dropped. “Dante?”
“Fuck you,” snapped back in an instant.
Stomping over the uneven, rough terrain, Tadeo left behind the curious angel and stuffed his dinner into a pocket as he said, “You followed me? All the way here? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Dante succeeded in lifting his bike off the ground and grunted, his face still pointed away from the anti-Christ, mouth settled in a pout.
Now that Tadeo was closer, he saw the folded sunglasses over Dante’s tank, right beside the dog tags, and the bandaged stump where his left hand should be.
“I was trying to hitch a ride out of town.” He paused.
“But the trucker I was calling got pulled over by a bunch of criminals, and they stole his gas right in front of me. Then, I saw you. I saw you and—” He turned his head, and his gaze landed on Dina. “An angel.”
“I told you,” said Tadeo, “that I had an angel with me. You didn’t believe me.” He finally reached the soldier and stopped, unsure what to do with his hands, just how threatening he was supposed to be.
“Now, why the fuck would I?” Dante laughed, spreading both arms at his sides as if to gesture at all the absurdity of the world.
“Forget about the angel,” Tadeo snapped, feeling his face twitch. “Why did you follow me? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You can turn into a giant monster, dumbass. You think I don’t worry watching you run off into the sunset?
I wanted to see where you were going and what you’re trying to do, but now I’m stuck in the middle of the damn desert.
” ‘It’s actually not a desert,’ Tadeo resisted saying.
“And I’m going to die of thirst because of you out here. ”
“And what?” Tadeo laughed, deciding to turn around, begin heading back toward his tent, all the while the angel continued standing there beside the horse, saying nothing.
“Do you want me to give you water? Why don’t you just go back into town or get back on the road and find a truck to take you somewhere else?
You don’t believe in God, so I don’t expect you to believe in what I’m trying to do. ”
Dante clicked his tongue. “Wouldn’t Jesus offer water to an enemy?
” Tadeo stopped again, facing his angel and horse, seeing now that the sun had almost wholly fallen past the flatland horizon.
If he’d gone south, he would have reached mountains many hours ago, but he was headed toward the sea, somewhere he hadn’t visited since his father was alive. “So? Come on, church boy.”
Tadeo clenched his teeth, then crouched for one of the plastic water bottles he’d left at the foot of the tent. “I didn’t bring much, so try not to finish it.” He lifted his body back up, twisted back, then extended it with a scowl.
Dante, suddenly, smiled, moved toward Tadeo, and took the water bottle.
“Thank you.” He unscrewed the top, looked to the angel Dina, then said, rather politely, “I’m Dante Perez.
” He offered his un-bandaged hand, which Dina blinked at before reaching out, touching his fingers.
“Oh—” the soldier breathed just as the angel took hold of his palm and gave him a gentle shake.
“You’re really an angel. I already saw your wings, but…
wow.” He was quite stout, the angel noticed, but he was handsome with a sharp face and a large grin.
Tadeo snorted and began fiddling with the tent, trying to ensure the dual sleeping bags had been set up, before finally returning to his dinner.
“Tomorrow, you’re going to head back.” Dante released the angel’s hand and opened his mouth.
“Don’t ask questions. You’re not going to understand, and I don’t want to bother. ”
So, the soldier turned to the angel instead and called, “Beautiful,” though he used the feminine suffix. “Can you explain what’s happening for me?”
Dina felt his cheeks warm and, flustered, smiled. “We’re trying to travel halfway to Hell.”
“Dina,” Tadeo sighed in irritation, but Dante’s laugh cut him off, and the anti-Christ finally stuffed the last of his dinner into his mouth.
“Really?” the soldier said, removing his jacket, then setting to plop onto the ground so that he could sit over it. He brought the water bottle to his mouth as he settled, chugging down as much as he could.
“Yes,” said the angel because the star in his head wasn’t telling him to be quiet. “We plan to free the Watchers. They are angels who were bound for their actions that led to the great flood that nearly ended humanity. We’re trying to stop the final apocalypse.”
“Wow,” commented Dante, then his stomach grumbled, and he glanced down at it like it was a beast of its own. “Well, I hope we stop for some more tacos before we go.”
Tadeo jolted. “What—?” Once again, he started walking toward the soldier, who didn’t lift his face to Tadeo.
“We? Tomorrow, you’re going back home. Do you fucking hear me?
” It was darkening extremely quickly, far from civilization as they were, and the angel was turning his face up to the sky to see the twinkling beads of light on a black canvas — and this went on for several seconds of silence.
“Hey? Answer me.” Dim, difficult to make out as night took hold, the soldier’s face was expressionless, his eyes distant. “I said to answer me.”
“They think I’m dead,” answered Dante, then finally turned to look at the anti-Christ. “I called my mother, and she cried and said that they told her I disappeared during a drug bust operation in the south. They told her there had been explosives, and that I was definitely in the rubble. They told her that they would send what was left of me as soon as they could.” He stopped, then shifted to plant his remaining hand behind himself, lean back on it, and then inhale slow.
The air was chilled, and yet he’d removed his jacket to show his muscled, lean arms. “It was all bullshit.” His stump of a wrist was on his lap.
Tadeo swallowed, then asked, “You don’t think it was a mistake?”
“They knew about you, obviously, some of the higher-ups. If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have sent us to kill you, but now I think they’ve known exactly what you are for a long time, that you’re a demon-thing.
” Tadeo’s eye twitched, but he didn’t bother correcting him; instead, he found himself stepping back, turning halfway.
“Maybe they also know exactly who you’ve been killing — which soldiers and which criminals.
They’re keeping a lot of secrets. And don’t misunderstand — I know better than anyone that the state is a lying piece of shit that covers up corruption, but lying to my own mother, covering up where I went, who I was trying to kill.
Why lie about that? Why not say I died up north in a shootout?
This is more than they’ve ever done. They don’t want the people to know about you. ”
Tadeo wished he’d lit the electric lamp that was still attached to the horse’s saddle; the darkness was tiring him. “You should go home to your mother.”
“I really should. I should tell her about this stupid fuck who tore my damn hand off, that lost me my job, that is responsible for how she’s going to have to get back to cleaning houses.
” At that, Tadeo tensed, and he wanted to say that he didn’t mean to take it that far, but he knew that he had.
“And well.” Dante chuckled a little. “I’ll stay dead for a while.
I don’t want them to find out I’m alive yet.
” Before Tadeo could ask — “I only joined the army because I didn't want to get dragged into trafficking.” He named the town he’d come from.
“I was like you back then. I thought we could all just kill the right people to make things better and that if I traded the criminal gun in my hands for a soldier one, then I’d do good, but in the end, I was still holding a gun.
” He faced Tadeo more gravely, then said, “So you and the angel are trying to stop the world from ending, right? Is that even still possible? Everything is so fucked.”
The two humans turned to the angel, who stared at them, his eyes as silver as the full moon over his head.
‘Oh,’ Dina thought, ‘I suppose they want my reassurance.’ A churn of guilt turned his stomach, but he tried to smile, to nod, to angelically hold his own hands.
“Yes, there is hope. The world can still be saved, but we must act. This is God’s will.
” ‘Oh, I really don’t like that, telling lies. ’
“Hm,” said Dante, “I don’t want the world to end.”
Tadeo quirked a brow. “You’re going to help me?”
“No. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Dante laughed. “But I want to see more of what’s going on, whether you want me to go or not.” Then, the soldier yawned and rolled his shoulders, murmuring, “Let me sleep an hour, then I can keep watch all night.”
Tadeo scoffed, then stepped toward the tent. “Keep watch of what? The cactus? Get some sleep instead. We should all fit in the tent, but leave the middle section to the angel because that’s the most cushioned part. Are you hungry? I have another taco in my bag and a stove if you want to heat it.”
The soldier waved a hand. “I’m just tired. How early are we waking?”
“Dawn.”
Dina dipped his head and crawled into the tent, the rocky ground barely cushioned by the thin lower fabric, even though Tadeo had thrown some blankets inside.
Without another word, the angel laid down, pulling his knees a little closer to himself because he was too tall for the flimsy little home he’d have for a few hours.
There were times all he could do was breathe out nervously, realize how far from Heaven he truly was and how much his life had changed after a hundred million years of stagnation.
His star was quiet today, but he sent him a loving prayer, then allowed his eyes to flutter shut. His wings ached beneath his skin.
Outside, Dina heard:
“No, dawn is fine. We’re really going to Hell? Really, really?”
“Yes.”
“Pfft. To be honest, I still don’t believe in Heaven or Hell or God even if angels are real — but I’m willing to look. Hey, don’t make that face at me. You should be excited, güey. You’re going to be the first saint that goes to Hell.”