Angel on the Edge

By

RJ Seymour

Angel on the Edge

By RJ Seymour

Copyright © RJ Seymour
2015

A Book Furnace Publications
Book

Cover Image: © Pink
Badger/Dollar Photo Club

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"Do you think she even notices us?" Dale asked while
he scratched at the dry dirt with his handheld cultivator.

The earth was bone dry; there hadn't been any rain
in over a month and the crops that still clung to life were showing
signs that this may be the end.

"Why would she?" Kevin answered as he wiped the
sweat from his brow. Replacing his Redskin ball cap with the ripped
visor and sun-bleached emblem, Dale could see the dirt that smeared
over his best friend's red cheeks.

Mid-day had passed several hours ago, yet the
temperature continued to rise. A dry wind whistled across the land
carrying with it sand that scratched at their throats as the two
boys worked tirelessly in the community garden.

"She has to notice someone, why else would she
protect us from the darkness?" Dale continued as he grabbed a thin
stem of thistle and tore it from the ground.

Vegetables and fruits struggled to germinate in the
dry, arid land, yet weeds grew no matter how much they worked the
beds.

"You believe that old wives tale don't you?" Kevin
chuckled as he leaned against the long handle of his rake. "She's
an angel protecting us from the demons that have destroyed this
world. One of the last warrior's sent to save us from the madness
that has consumed us all."

Dale looked up at his friend, the bright sun burning
the light blue sky behind him. Kevin was half a foot taller and
carried himself like his father. Wide at the shoulders, though
their food was scarce the men of his family still filled out their
stalky frames. He on the other hand never knew his father, but it
didn't matter. Everyone said he took after his mother's side. Pale
skin that was prone to burning, his freckles extended from the
patch of red hair that grew over his ears to the ends of his
fingers. Watching the muscles of his forearm move as he squeezed
his hand, he shook his head, too skinny and too hungry.

"Oh my, you do believe them don't you?" Kevin
chuckled as kicked his heels together dancing behind his rake.

"Shut-up!" Dale threw a handful of dry dirt at his
friend before turning back to the row of radishes struggling to
survive. "You've heard the stories just as much as I have. They
can't all be lies."

He could feel the embarrassment swell up behind his
cheeks, which he knew were already burned red from the sun.

"No, but you still amaze me my friend." Kevin knelt
down beside him to reach and pull out a handful of thistle himself.
"The world fell apart decades ago, and we all know why. Terrorists
and wars. Not those children's stories that old grandma Shirley use
to tell us. There are no such things as demon's and angels fighting
to save us from or doom us to damnation."

Kevin stood up, his hands on his hips as he
stretched his back. Sweat stains marked the underarms and chest of
his white tee-shirt though Dale felt as if his shirt was
soaked.

"You never know. She's out there, we all know that,"
Dale whispered to himself, wincing as the sharp needle of thistle
bit into his skin.

"What I do know is there are rumors of a crazy woman
who survives in the Whispering Woods," Kevin said while leaning
forward on his rake. "I haven't seen her, but my father says she's
as rabid as the starving dogs that hunt at night. She isn't some
angel, let alone our savior. You're my friend Dale, but you need to
grow up."

Dale squinted as he looked up with anger and sadness
churning within him.

"Plus, your gardening needs work. Those radishes
look half dead and I heard that the harvest this year is going to
be our worst yet," Kevin said as he leaned his rake against the
rusted chicken wire fence that marked the boundary of the garden.
"Even an angel won't be able to save us if we all starve to
death."

With a pat on Dale's shoulder, Kevin chuckled one
more time before walking toward the dusty homes that clustered
together in the center of the village.

Dale sighed to himself as he watched for signs of
movement within the ghostly confines of the Whispering Woods. White
sun-bleached husks stretched high into the air, the branches
brittle and gnarled as they warped from the sun's relentless heat.
She was out there, somewhere in the shadows, and she protected them
all. It wasn't just a children's story because he had seen her. In
his dreams, she was there, guarding against the evil that
threatened them all. Deep within him, he knew the truth. One day,
he'd prove it to them all and himself. He would find the angel at
the edge of their darkness.

* * *

She walks toward him. Long legs and soft brunette
hair that flows behind her as if blessed by the word of God
himself. Light shines down from above; the darkness pushed back as
she floats through the brush of the hollow trees toward him. He can
no longer move his arms or legs as he is helpless in her presence.
Her face carries with it a smile, one that melts his heart as her
ruby red lips curl ever so slightly upward toward her dark
eyes.

She is an angel, and he knows it to be true. There
is no question in his heart, the darkness itself cannot approach
her. As she nears him, he can feel his muscles tense. There is
power, and it radiates from her and presses against him like a warm
blanket. The evil that permeates the land can no longer harm him,
she is there to protect them all. She walks this earth to protect
God's remaining children. It is her mission; it is her charge.

Warmth fills his chest as she is almost upon him.
Only a few rotten oak trees, brightened by the approach of God's
champion stands between them. He can feel the sweat running down
his forehead. He tries to wipe it away, but his arms are of no use
as he struggles to breathe. She knows who he is, and he knows she
is real. The others do not understand, they do not believe. But
they also do not love her like he does.

His knees grow weak, and he could not rise to his
feet if he tried. She is almost to him as he can feel the smile
that stretches across his face. Yes, he loves her, and he knows
what she does for them. He will make the others believe, he will
show them, and in the end he will be one with her.

Her feet stop a step before him. Pain burns at his
eyes as the light above shines and blocks the beauty of her face.
Her skin is pale enough to be a ghost, her silk dress so thin he
can see every curve of her body as the cloth hugs her tightly.

"Why do you not show them?" He asks before his mouth
goes dry.

There is no answer as she remains still, though he
can feel a shift in the wind. A dry breeze rustles the leaves as it
dances its way through the forest. He can see that her muscles have
tensed though she has not moved. Shadows encroach the light that
encircles them both though its power is still blinding.

"What is happening?" He chokes out before his the
last of his air seeps from his lungs.

She remains silent as she turns to the shadows that
inch out from behind the graves of Mother Nature's beauty. Light
erupts from her beautiful hand as a blade appears as if by magic.
He tries to breathe, but he can't, his eyes lost to the
magnificence of the weapon she holds. Light and power flows through
the blade, a promise of righteousness and forgiveness that carries
down its sharpened edge.

He can feel the darkness clouding his vision. His
eyes struggle to remain open as he watches her step toward the
approaching darkness. He tries to call to her, but there is nothing
to say. In vain he can only reach out his shaking hand, his love,
and his angel is leaving him.

"Find me," her voice carries into his mind before
his world is lost to darkness.

* * *

Dale shot up in bed, his breathing erratic as his
chest struggled to fill with air. Shivers ran down his back as he
swallowed to fill his lungs, and the clammy feeling of sweat clung
to his skin. Looking around, he could see that it was deep into the
night, and he was still in his bed. Running his hands down his
face, the stickiness of sweat still lingered on his palms as he
felt the pulse of his heart slow.

Moonlight streamed in through the open window of his
room, the thin curtains motionless in the night air. Small bits of
dust filtered through the rays as he turned and placed both of his
bare feet on the wood floor. The heat of the room felt stuffy as
his breaths finally returned to a slower pace.

With a stiff push, he lifted himself off of his
straw bed and made his way to the window. Outside their home, the
night was silent and dead. The moon above moved across a sky bare
of clouds, and as dark and devoid of rain as the world around him
was of life. He could see the forest, a land of deceased memories
stretching toward the hills to the west. Darkness filled everything
that surrounded them, a blanket that they could not shake.

"Find Me"

Her words played in his mind. Soft and magical, the
voice was a song that could play forever, and he would never tire
of it. But, there was something there. It was hidden out in the
shadows that held them all to this small village. She needed him,
and he could feel it. It wasn't a dream, nor was it a fantasy of a
young man living with fairy tales he should have given up years
ago. No, this was real, and he could feel it in his heart, he could
sense it down to the deepest part of his soul.

She needed him; she was in trouble, and he was the
only one who knew. No one else would help. With a quick turn to the
worn bunk seated at the end of his bed, Dale opened the lid and
cringed as the rusted hinges scratched into the night. No one made
a sound in the silent house as he waited. Once he was certain he
was still the only one awake, he grabbed his last remaining set of
decent clothes and closed the chest as quietly as he could.

Switching from a colorless cotton shirt and pants,
gritting his teeth against the heat, he put on a thicker wool shirt
and the only denim pants he had left that wasn't torn up to his
knees. The rough material itched at his arms as he searched his
room. It was hidden, and this early in the morning he couldn't
remember where he put it. Working the memories through his clouded
mind, he walked himself through the last time he had seen it.

With a sigh, he sat down on the bed. It had to be
somewhere here in this room. If his mother had discovered what he
hid, she would have beaten him red and turned it into the village
keeper. No, it was still here, he could feel it. Looking back at
the window, he wished he could see his angel again. The confidence
and peace he felt when she was near left him empty when he was
alone, and here within the village of survivors he always felt
alone.

Reluctantly, he knew he could wait no longer. He
would have to venture out without it. Maybe he would get lucky and
find her without being seen. The shadows were thick, and silence
filled the evening air. Holding his breath, he didn't know if he
would be that lucky as he slowly bent to tie his boots. She needed
him, and his time was running out.

Laces tied; he lifted his head from down at his feet
to look out the window one more time. There was a large world out
there, and he didn't even know where to start. For a moment, he
considered sneaking over to Kevin's but he knew better. His angel
was only a story to his best friend. He'd probably try to talk him
out of it, and he could not afford that.

With a shake of his head, he placed his hands on his
knees and went to push himself off of the ground when his eye
caught a small scratching under the windowsill. As quiet as a
mouse, Dale made his way over. Running his fingertips under the
rough wood, he could feel the small markings that cut into its
surface. At the right edge, his index finger pushed through a false
board and with a gasp he caught the cover before it fell to the
ground. Reaching in, he felt for what he knew had to be there.