Genesis of a Hero (9 page)

“Almost killed me,” John breathed and did his best to let the Spirit soak into the
many wounds across his body. His head was pounding and blood trickled into his right eye. He experimentally spread his wings and winced as a jolt of pain convulsed both.

“Stay still,” Denise urged. She glanced around the area. John heard more howls and growls, but the sounds had faded from the tumultuous roar they’d been a few minutes before.

“How we doing?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“It’s almost over,” she said eyeing the different gashes on his arms and back.
“Some of these are pretty bad.” She closed her eyes and from her palms the Spirit glowed.

At once the wounds begin to mend.
Stitching together under God’s great direction. John laid back and let her work, not mustering the energy to throw out even the smallest joke. Instead, he allowed himself to enjoy the sheer nature of the pretty face hovering only inches above his.

“The wings will take some more work,” Denise said after a few minutes.

“Thanks,” John sighed. He swept forward and kissed her fully on the lips. The heat in her return was mixed with a sprinkle of tears. “What’s wrong?” he asked after reluctantly pulling away.

“I thought I’d lost you for a second,” she said with the tiniest quiver. “The
sinna jabbed at you with its tail, but the Spirit wrapped you in a cocoon, or something, and it deflected away. When you stabbed it, I cut off the tail. You were less than an inch away from being in heaven.”

John smiled and
chuckled happily. “Guess God didn’t want my company yet.”

She laughed and it was like a rain of sunshine in the dreary, stinking warehouse. All around pools of blood and heaps of disintegrating demons were scattered
, but here before him was pure love.

“How did it happen?” John questioned as he saw Jan tending to a wound on Ed’s face. Harold was
standing over the dying body of a reidlos. His teeth were barred in wrath at the beast.

“We met that Franklin guy from England,” she ans
wered as she continued squeezing around his chest with shaking arms. “Five other people were with him… but two of them were fallen. That Rodrigo guy… I’ve never seen anyone move like him. He cut down Franklin and another angel before any of us could even move. Then the demons came. It was all I could do to survive the first charge. I didn’t even have time to think about calling you, but then I heard your voice.”

“We were at the Justice Minister meeting,” John said thoughtfully remembering what had happened. “Seraphim’s Trumpet came from my scepter and I got a vision of you in trouble. First time anything like that has ever happened…”

“Thank God for miracles,” Denise said. “We wouldn’t have made it another minute if you hadn’t shown up.” Her eyes darted from one scene of blood to the next. “What about Aaron and Xavier? Did they make it?”

“I saw Aaron fighting with a fallen,” John pointed to the far wall near an office area. “It had to be the Rodrigo guy you were talking about. I never saw Xavier.”

Together, they walked through the remains of the building. Black scorches and crumbling holes pockmarked the warehouse. Rebar and chunks of concrete had fallen in piles of dust and iron. Ahead of them, kneeling wobbly over a prone form, Aaron was praying. Alive and well, but with a nasty break in his right wing. The whispered hush of his prayer was interrupted by a hateful string of choking Spanish. John made to head that way, but Denise grabbed his arm and yanked him towards a cracked support beam.

“Xavier,”
she hissed and ran in the direction of a bloody hand sticking awkwardly from a jumbled pile of demons and broken concrete.

John followed at a sprint. The air left his lungs when he came upon the angel. Xavier’s face was covered in bruises and his skin was split open from his temple to his jaw.
The spiky, blue angel marks on the left side of his head had been halved by the cut. A bone was protruding from his upper, right arm. John reached with the Spirit and felt a trickle of life. He breathed a sigh of relief and said a quick prayer of thanks.

“Help me,” Denise said as divine energy glowed from her hands. They tossed aside rocky slabs of concrete and four dead reidlos.  Denise immediately went to work on the broken arm. John gently touched the angel’s ribs which made him stir and jitter in pain.

“Warn… Aaron,” Xavier said weakly.

“
Shh,” Denise urged. “Don’t move. We need to heal you first.”

John continued bathing wounds with the Spirit, but when he moved to a gash on Xavier’s thigh; a sparkling vision popped in his eyes.

There stood Xavier watching Aaron fight. The warehouse was hazy and demons jostled for killing blows. The fog blended and swirled, but John saw Xavier standing in front of four reidlos. An arched smile on his face. No fear. No worry. Only a calm purpose.

John blinked and turned his concentration to the vision. He pushed, but instead of getting clearer; it
dissolved like sand through an hour glass then spun into woman cowering in the corner of a carpeted room. He’d seen the woman many times before. Brunette hair that tumbled onto petite shoulders. Cheeks, that were overly chubby for her size, to accommodate a gigantic smile. Sherry Wells. Xavier’s wife.

In the vision, her hand reached pleadingly into the air. White wings were stained red. A broken scepter lay at her feet. Her own sword was sticking through her upper leg. John wanted to turn away. He closed his eyes but the vision remained. Four reidlos charged and death followed.
Through the vision, Xavier’s voice cried out at the top of his lungs in sheer agony.

Breathing heavily, John wrenched himself away from the images. Xavier’s eyes were focused on him.
The angel’s lips moved soundlessly in silent prayer. John swallowed and went back to work healing the injured leg. Over and over he heard Sherry’s screams. Quivers of fear and disgust crawled down his spine. He prayed for the wails of death to end. Softly with almost a sweet calling of his name, the Spirit pressed peace into his raging mind.

Chapter 7: Love and Separation

“That was some move you pulled off when we got here,” Jan called. No smile lifted her lips but pure respect carried with each word. It had taken them two hours to clean up the mess. In total, five angels had ascended to heaven to sit forever beside the Lord God Almighty. Franklin and two of his companions from England; along with Dustin Hagler and Katy Tipton – both Justice Ministers. Another angel had his arm ripped out at the shoulder joint. John would never forget the sight of his blanched face and the torn, bloody flesh.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Ed added in his deep voice with an improving nod. “You about knocked the whole building down. I thought you’d killed yourself, but you came out of it without a scratch.
Fly right through a wall… I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m in a hurry to get somewhere.”

John shrugged as he watched three
Justice Ministers carry the peaceful bodies of their downed companions. So much death and tragedy; all because of the lust and greed of Lucifer who had brought sin to the world and started the Great War.

“We’re going through the gate to London tonight,” Jan continued. “We need to meet with the Ministers there to see what’s going on. We don’t want their
troubles spreading here. If this group joined with Charles and the Nightwalkers, we’d have a major problem.”

Behind her, Aaron climbed through one of the gaping holes in the concrete wall. With his right arm, he helped a limping Xavier. The Spirit had done its work to heal the angel’s injuries, but pain remained on his face. A thick scar was now carved across his cheek.

“Let us know what they say,” Aaron said. “Hopefully those two were some of their main assassins.” He motioned over his shoulder with his head. John knew he was talking about Rodrigo and the other dead fallen angel. He watched the leader of his group with newfound respect. The blazing swords of Aaron and Rodrigo kindled in his memory. A tough, deadly fight. One that he wasn’t sure he would have survived if he’d been in Aaron’s place.  “Hopefully Charles and his group won’t be a big problem,” Aaron sighed. “We can’t have many more fights like that. Lucifer can spare losing a couple of hundred demons. We can’t keep losing angels like this. We’re spread thin as it is.”

“Amen,” Xavier breathed and stood tall on his own weight.

The vision, from when he was healing Xavier, pulsed in John’s head. It had seemed so… strange. An eerie calmness in the midst of violence and death. He relaxed and let the Spirit reach into the deepest parts of his mind. There was Xavier standing and watching Aaron struggle against Rodrigo and the other fallen angel. The reidlos were hovering at the edge of the blurry images. Not attacking, but hissing and snapping. Ready to strike death, but waiting to charge.

John pressed, but as before, the vision swirled and switched to the horrific scene of Sherry’s death.

“You okay?” Denise asked and nudged him gently in the ribs stirring away the vision. “Do your wings feel better? I saw Jan trying to heal them too.” She looked at the petite Justice Minister out of the corner of her eyes. There was a definite slyness to the gaze that made John want to laugh.

“Check out her ring finger,” he whispered lifting his bearded chin to point. “
Her and Ed are set to get married.”

Denise followed his direction and her eyes went wide then softened. “Oh… that’s good,” she said with a small smile. “I’ll have to make sure to congratulate them.”

“Tell them to have kids as quickly as they can while you’re at it,” John said as he looked again at the dead angels. Soft hymns were pouring from the companions carrying them. Tears of grief fell at the loss - even with the knowledge that the dead were now basking in all the glory of paradise. “We’ll need the numbers,” he added sadly.

“That’s unfortunately true,” Harold
said as he sidled up to John’s left. His brown eyes were clouded as he watched the procession. “And Lucifer only gains more power when the fallen are killed too.” He turned and looked at the two forms covered by white sheets on the concrete floors inside the warehouse.

“Come on,” Denise said
bossily and guided them across a lonely street. To the west, the sun was preparing to set over the city of Boston. The blue skies of the day were giving way to the reds and oranges of the evening. “I’m tired of this place. Let’s go back to California,” she called with her left arm encircling John’s waist. “Leave this mess behind.”

John nodded and didn’t resist as she led them away. However, his eyes stayed locked on the warehouse.
A place of pain and anguish, but also where he realized for the first time that he truly loved the wonderful woman at his side. The words,
I love you
, sounded in his head, but didn’t leave his mouth. They would be for another time. A place of peace and quiet… and hopefully smiles and kisses.

“We’re supposed to be leaving for the Revival tomorrow,” John griped at his scepter. “We’ve had this planned for quite
a while.”

“I know,” Jan Gibson’s voice said. “But the
Nido del Diablo group is getting out of control. They need our best fighters in Europe right now... And you’re one of them.”

A
frustrated breath hissed through John’s teeth. A vase of two dozen red roses was standing on the small wooden nightstand in his dorm at Whispering Trees. He’d gone through the gate to heaven and brought them back in secret only an hour before. They’d been bundled as a surprise for Denise tonight when they went out to eat. Something he hoped would help lead him to a verbal declaration of love.

“How long will we be in Spain?” he grumbled.

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “It’s what we signed up for when we joined the Justice Ministers though. Peter stationed Ed in Paris…”

John bit back another retort. He knew it wasn’t Jan’s fault, but to him, the timing couldn’t be worse. He’d planned the whole month with Denise.
A time of prayer and songs of worship – all of it with her right by his side. “Are you and Ed still going to go through the marriage ceremony… or waiting until you get back?” he asked.

“We’re doing it tonight,” she answered. “Not exactly what I had in mind… but better than waiting.”

“Well… congratulations,” John said hoping it sounded heartfelt, because he meant it. He was worried her foul news was still evident in his voice though.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “And I am sorry you’re getting pulled away from everything you have going on out in California. I know you’ve been leading the charge against Charles, but we’ll try to make sure to stay on top of it while you’
re gone.”

“Yeah,” John cleared his throat
and tried to shake away the depressing thoughts of missing out on his plans with Denise. “That will work… so I’ll meet you and Ed out there in Chicago at 8:00 tonight?”

“Yes, we’ll go straight to London then to our end destinations from there. The fighting is supposed to be really bad where you and I are going…
make sure to ask for prayers. And say good-bye to anyone… close, just in case.”

“I will,” John said
with a heavy breath. “See you in a few hours.” He let go of the Spirit and thrust his scepter, under his shirt, into the leather pouch that held it. For several minutes he paced the small room. The roses beckoned and mocked in beautiful splendor. With a disgruntled snort, he picked up the vase and left the room at a fast march.

The babble of students filled the hallways outside his dorm. Boys of all ages scrambled out of his way with gawking eyes at the giant medley of flowers. There were a few snickering chuckles, but those were silenced with a sideways glance from John.

“Hey John,” Harold waved. “Whoah… uh, are you looking for Denise?”

John nodded trying to lift the scowl
he knew was darkening his face. “I got a call from Jan,” he said going slowly so he wouldn’t growl the words. “The Justice Ministers are reassigning me to Spain for now. I leave tonight.”

“What?” Harold blanched. “I haven’t even heard anything at all about where they’re going to assign me. Jan just said that I could stay here in California until they officially put me with a group. I told her that I’d like to permanently be your partner…”

“That would be good,” John said gratefully trying to work the anger out of his system before finding Denise. “We’ve been in lots of bad spots together. Kind of know how each other move in a fight.”

Harold laughed and shook his head. “The only thing I know is to stay out of your way when you get going. Like slamming through the wall thing the other day…” he let out one of his funny whistles of appreciation. “Something like that would never cross my mind.”

“That’s why I need you around,” John said reaching for the Spirit to help calm his nerves. “You actually sit back and think about stuff before you do it. I need someone with brains around me so I don’t get into too much trouble.”

They walked together towards the
atrium at the front of the training camp. Several girls gave John bright smiles and appreciative nods as he strolled by with the bouquet of roses.

“I would imagine she’s either meeting with Aaron in the dining hall or down in the basement guarding Christy and Melody,” Harold said echoing John’s thoughts on Denise’s location. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” John said with a short salute and turned to the dining hall. Sure enough, Harold was correct. As soon as John pushed open the door, he saw Denise sitting with Aaron and Xavier at the long table. Maps and flyers were spread out on almost every inch of the reflective surface. On the walls were dates with lists of activities bulleted for reference points at the Revival.

All three of the angels looked up at John’s arrival. Denise’s mouth flew wide open. Aaron looked taken aback at the rosy spectacle, but quickly recovered and looked down at the papers again. Xavier only smirked and let loose a quiet snort.
The scar on his cheek had faded in the days since the battle, but a noticeable line would forever run through the angel marks on that side of his face.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” John stammered. “Could I speak to Denise for a minute?”

Denise scrambled from the table without so much as a peek back. “What’s up?” she said with a bright smile. She quickly guided him out the front doors of the Cathedral. A brilliantly blue sky was shining rays of light through the tall trees of the forest. John breathed deeply of the pleasing smell of the woods.

“I wanted to give you these,” he said and thrust out the vase. “I… was going to give them to you at dinner tonight, but that won’t be possible now.”

The gigantic, wondrous smile scrunched a little at his words. Her nose was gently pressed into the middle of the flowers. “What do you mean?” she asked pulling herself away from the sweet aroma.

John cleared his throat and leaned against one of the mammoth trees. A few students were strolling around the camp and he heard whispers about news they’d
received regarding the war.

“Eight angels have died in the last month,” a teenage boy in round glasses said to his friend near the sparring arena. “And my dad told me that he heard we have a bunch of fallen angels as prisoners here at Whispering Trees. Can you imagin
e? I wonder where they’re holding them?”

“Probably down that hallway nobody is allowed to go through on the other side of
the Seraphim classroom,” a red-headed girl squealed. “That statue of Timothy always changes the subject when we ask about it. They-”

John pulled himself from the conversation and looked at Denise. Her eyes bored into his and he wondered for a second if she was going to try to read his mind with the Spirit. But nothing flared against his conscious.
Only her continued stare. “I got a call from the Justice Ministers,” he explained. “They’re sending me to Europe to help fight the Nido del Diablo.”

“What?” she barked.
“We’ve been planning all this stuff at the Revival for a month.”

“I know,” he said not daring to look away from her now accusing eyes. “I told her everything we have planned.”

“Who?” she snapped making drops of water spray from the vase.

“
Jan… of course. But it wasn’t her decision. She was only the messenger. I guess the story about the fight in Boston got spread around and they think they need all their best fighters in Europe right now.”

“Tell them no,” Denise said
flatly. Her cheeks were flexing in agitation. The striations pulled on her straight angels marks making them curve from their usual unbent line. “You can’t drop everything you have going on and fly off wherever they command. You’re not a soldier.”

“But I am,” John sighed. “It’s what I signed up for… I’d rather stay here, but I can’t back out on the vows I took.”

“You can stop being a Justice Minister whenever you want,” she fumed. “It’s not like the rest of us don’t fight. You can tell them at any time that you don’t want to be part of their little group anymore.”

John nodded and closed his eyes. “I could,” he said. “But I’m not going to. Not right now, at least.”

“Why?” she said. The question sounded sad as it came from her mouth, but flashing anger was beginning to twist her pretty face.