Chapter 4
Istare at her in my - arms, limp, arching - too vicious and vulnerable at the same time. She’s breakable despite her willingness to protect and fight. Her physical and mental strength are as dimmed as I’d expect from the jaded nature of humans now.
This introduction hardly bodes well.
Death, Pestilence, War, and Famine are regrouping and I don’t have a single place to put her. I don’t know where I am, don’t recognize a single thing other than the four horsemen trying to claim her. Which gives me one option.
Bundling her in my arms, I spread my hand over the back of her neck, making sure we’re touching skin to skin so I can absorb some of what she knows of this world.
Light pulses under her skin and spreads along the tendrils of her dark hair until it shines bronze.
Thanks to that touch, I understand the things she’s had to learn and now takes for granted in this life.
She has the halls memorized and the map is so clear that it doesn’t require thinking.
Thankfully.
Then I see a memory of me, laying on her slab, the mix of attraction and confusion swirling around her, a spark of lust …
I push it away and focus on the moment. I slide my hand into her pocket to pull out her car keys.
I heft her into one arm, so her head lulls on my shoulder, I head towards the exit.
I move my hands away from her skin while digesting the knowledge I’ve gained from her.
It drains me, making my muscles ache, my skin sizzle with the lingering burn of my most recent sacrifice – my wings burning as I fell, perhaps a punishment for my indecision and my argument.
The open wounds reverberate with agony that reminds me of the suffering that will befall everyone if I fail when it comes to this woman specifically.
My legs shake under the weight of my body. The exhaustion of fighting the horsemen sinks into my chest like an ache of something missing.
More sulfur stains my nose.
How many times can I scrub away stains before the shreds of my divinity are gone too?
A soft breath draws my attention to the woman I must protect, change, and cleanse. Another messy human unwilling to follow a plan when it's so clearly laid out.
Her name is Charlie based on the tag on her shirt.
Her hair is tamed in a bun now, showing more of her elegant face.
Gorgeous, big brown eyes, soft, inviting lips, a lovely nose and high cheekbones.
Her thick brown hair. Her doll-like features are delicate and warm.
She’s luxury and grace twisting together.
Temptation, just as God warned.
Temptation I won’t submit to.
There’s only the mission.
But when I move, unfamiliar pain lances through my back and I stumble.
If I don’t have the strength to get her out of here, how can I shoulder the mission?
Shaking my head, I push the doubt away and heft her in my arms again. I’m weaker than I’ve ever been with a more monumental task on my shoulders. I’m not sure I have the ability to carry her, let alone carry the weight of humanity.
“Code red travel advisory. Earthquakes, floods, and mudslides incoming. Seek immediate shelter. Follow safety guidelines as follows ...”
I turn off the radio with a shake of my head. I don’t need the constant reminders of the consequences of having five seals broken. Not when the last hope and the potential destruction of the world is passed out beside me.
“Zombie man,” she slurs as she starts to come to. “Or … are you an angel?”
I glance at her as another earthquake rattles the ground beneath us, making second floors slough off buildings, sending traffic lights to the ground in a thundering crash.
I ignore her and try to get us out of the main city where things are falling and fires are trying to start only to be momentarily put out by the pelting rain.
“I … This isn’t- You have to let me out,” she says, her voice shaking as she backs towards the door.
“Not happening,” I say firmly.
“Yeah, that’s a decision two people make if it’s legal. I’m leaving. Stop the car or don’t, doesn’t matter,” she decides.
I hit the child-lock button as she tries to rip the handle off the door. She’s breathing so hard that the interior of the car is getting noticeably hotter. Her panic might as well be tangible waves that crash into me again and again.
I grit my teeth against the annoyance.
The ground rumbles under us and I turn quickly to avoid a building crashing down on top of us. Charlie lets out a scream as she looks behind us, squirming in her seat as if she can find another exit.
She pants. “You can’t keep me here. You can’t hold me against my will! It’s illegal. Sane or insane. Alive or dead, there are laws!”
“The laws of man are meaningless,” I counter, while trying to steer us away from the city. I find a paved road that only has streetlights to worry about. They tremble, but don’t fall, even as the power flickers in and out.
“You’re just a fucking … monster! I’ve been through enough. You either start explaining or I’m going to make you regret taking me,” she threatens.
“Sit down, be quiet, and obey. I’ll make sure you have a fighting chance,” I order.
“Against what?” she hisses. “Rapists? Crazy necrophiliacs that probably wanted you more than me?”
There’s no point in arguing with a human who’s refusing to believe the obvious.
She unbuckles and narrows her eyes at me for a long moment, but I see a calculating edge to her eyes.
“What was that back there?! Who were they?! Why did they want me! You were dead! Fucking dead!” And now she’s losing her grasp on control.
“Why did you take me? Where the fuck are we going?! I NEED ANSWERS AND I’LL SCREAM IF YOU DON’T-”
“No one will hear you.” I mutter.
She shoves my shoulder. “That doesn’t matter. You’ll hit the brakes and let me out. I’ll walk home.”
“You will not,” I say evenly.
“I’ll be fine! I have my …” she trails off and looks around. “Did you steal my purse too!?”
“That doesn’t matter,” I almost scoff.
Her false bravado, perhaps self-inflicted denial, is already wearing thin. How am I supposed to help her gain redemption when she doesn’t believe, when there’s so much spite filling her?
“I have a taser. It does plenty. If I had it, you’d already have wetted yourself while spasming into oblivion,” she snarls. “It’s a pretty great mental image.”
I shake my head and focus on getting us out of here.
We need to be away from people and safe from falling objects.
That’s all that matters: keeping her safe and alive.
Comfort is secondary – only worth the effort if it builds trust to allow me access to her mind.
I just need to find a safe spot while avoiding the wildlife running, the lightning that keeps striking the ground, and the aftershocks of each earthquake that threatens to rip apart the earth below us.
“I’m not letting another man decide how my night is going to go!” Charlie yells as she grabs the wheel and jerks it towards her.
I lift my elbow to try to dislodge her grip. Her bloody hands tighten round the wheel, her nails digging in as we fight for control over the car.
“I’m not letting you take me anywhere. I’ve heard of secondary locations. I don’t care if it’s the apocalypse, you’re letting me go, or we’re dying here and now!” She screams.
I turn my gaze from her hands to the road and see a large stag stopping and staring, the headlights reflecting off the empty gaze. I hit the brakes hard, my foot driving the pedal to the floor, but it’s too little too late.
Throwing my arm out in front of Charlie’s chest, I try to push her back into her seat.
She claws my arm as the impact jostles the car, nearly sending her through the windshield.
We’re still skidding. The deer slammed into the bumper, but didn’t stop there.
It’s carving a path for itself through metal and blood.
“FUCK!” Charlie screams as the car flips, rolling into a ditch.
Everything goes as foggy and cracked as the windshield.
After blinking a few times, I realize that the radio is static, the windshield is shattered, and we’re upside down.
Turning my head is painful, makes my eyes go blurry, but I see Charlie.
She’s limp, her leg twisted at a bad angle, her head hanging against the passenger window where blood drips along the spider-webbing of the cracked glass.
Pulling her towards me, I manage to get us both out of the car. It’s not easy, and her hoarse scream reminds me of an important lesson.
‘Gentle’ isn’t what angels are built for.
“Hold on!” She yells as I swing her up and into my arms, spotting lights within walking distance. She hits my chest and tries to push away from me. “Manhandling is- HEY!”
I ignore her thrashing as I keep her in my arms. She pushes against my chest so we’re face to face as I continue walking in the direction we need. She keeps struggling, no matter how much pain it causes her. I’m going to have to bind and gag her to have a chance at success at this rate.
Messy, feral humans that have forgotten the basics of respect and good-will.
“This is kidnapping,” she says, her words starting to bleed together. “Is bad.”
“I’m keeping you safe,” I say evenly.
“I’m not falling to some kind of fucking Stockholm Syndrome. You’re just …” she turns in my arms and dry heaves for a second before going limp. “I’ll stab you if I have to.”
She’s what humans would call a ‘dumpster fire’. Ready to rage and burn everything, including herself as long as she gets her way. I can fix that as long as she’s in my arms. If she’s with me, she’s beyond the devil’s reach and I plan to keep it that way.