On Unfaithful Wings (20 page)

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Authors: Bruce Blake

BOOK: On Unfaithful Wings
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I thrashed, I yelled, I cursed at the pressure building in my body. She kept pushing, burying me deeper and deeper into the mattress until Poe stood miles above me, forcing me into my grave with an arm extending from the sky.

Finally, she let go. I rolled off the bed, tumbled to the floor, and crawled for the bathroom. It seemed a long way off, but I got my head over the toilet before my guts detonated. I heaved and retched, spewed cloudy fluid out my mouth and nose while tears dripped from my eyes. The excruciating pain in my belly felt like I’d puked my intestines out, possibly through my nostrils. When it subsided, leaving me shivering and dripping sweat, I opened my eyes and wiped tears and snot away on the sleeve of my shirt. A warmth spread through me and I became vaguely aware of Poe’s hand on my back. Comforting, healing. I stared into the bowl at the puke and blood and heroin muddled together, ebbing and flowing across the toilet water like an oil slick in a marina. Poe reached over my head and pushed the handle. The water swirled away, sucking my old life back down into the sewer where it belonged.

***

I woke to a cold cloth dabbing my forehead. In spite of their vehement protest, I forced my eyes open to see where I was and what was going on. Poe smiled when she saw me awake. The sight of her brought me warmth.

“How do you feel?”

“Like an elephant drove a train over me. Twice.” I wiggled my fingers and toes. Everything worked and everything hurt. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She dragged the cloth across my cheek. “You’re safe now.”

I breathed deep through my nose. No foul odor. I glanced down, realized my nakedness beneath the covers and didn’t know how I’d gotten that way. Innuendoes came to mind, but I set them aside to satisfy other curiosities.

“How long?”

“How long what?” The nervousness normally evident in Poe’s voice was absent. “How long did you sleep?”

“How long was I gone?”

“About a week. You are difficult to find, after all.”

“That’s because I was lost.” I looked around the room, surprised to discover the same room I’d rented for the month. A mix of relief and disappointment filled me. “Does Mike know what happened?”

She nodded once and looked away.

“Is he angry?”

“He hasn’t said anything except to take care of you. It’s hard to tell what Michael’s thinking.”

“Well, who can tell what an Archangel is thinking?”

“Sometimes I wish I could.”‘ Her smile had withered but now returned and brought a giggle along for company.

“Thanks for saving me.”

She looked at me questioningly.

“For pulling me out of that alley. If I’d stayed, I would have died. Again.”

“I didn’t pull you from the alley, Icarus. I found you here.”

I sat up abruptly; the movement gave me vertigo.

“Then who?”

She shrugged and touched my shoulder gently, pushing me back down onto the mattress. I didn’t struggle against her wishes--couldn’t. I swallowed nausea back into my gut.

My eyes slipped closed as I enjoyed Poe’s proximity and the feel of the cool cloth on my face. After a while, sleep claimed me the way a fog bank insinuates itself on the land: one minute everything’s clear, the next...pea soup. I slept a dreamless sleep and woke alone, missing Poe. The heat burning my flesh subsided, the ache in my bones disappeared. Alone in my empty room with only my thoughts, my regrets and another scroll to keep me company.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

The name on the scroll turned out to be Phil’s.

No surprise; at Sully’s, I’d figured he didn’t have much time. Cancer, I assumed. I read the date and time listed below the address--City Hospital, the same place where I expired--and sat staring at the name for a while remembering his quiet demeanor, the good times we shared. An alcoholic haze obscured many of the memories, but I’d always like Phil.

After a few minutes, I realized my sojourn removed from the world had left me without knowledge of what day of the week it was, never mind something as insignificant as the time. The alarm clock beside the bed flashed, indicating the power had gone out during my absence. Panic clutched at my throat.

What if I missed it?

Phil didn’t deserve to go to Hell.

After a minute searching for the remote, I finally gave up and walked the two steps to the TV, clicked it on and flipped through a few channels before finding one showing the date and time. Still a couple hours before Phil’s fuel gauge hit empty. I sagged back into the chair and noticed a note from Poe on the bedside table. It said she’d meet me at the hospital fifteen minutes before Phil’s scheduled time of departure. Thanks for flying Icarus Airways. Buckle up and enjoy your death.

The day was cool but sunny so I left the Escort wherever the hell I’d parked it in favor of hoofing it. A bit of a hike but, with plenty of time until my ‘appointment,’ I relished the opportunity to clear my head.

I breathed cool air deep into my lungs, savoring the way it tingled in my chest. After my days lost in the alley, I felt surprisingly good, maybe better than before it happened. Whatever Poe had done, she should bottle it.

My body ached, to be sure, but with the ache of healing and physical exertion instead of unfulfilled hunger. This job was harder than I imagined it would be. If I was going to harvest enough souls to get another chance at my life, I’d need to invest in a set of weights or a gym membership. Maybe a return visit to “ ocky’s 24 Hour Fit ess Center.”

As I walked, I looked closely at the faces passing by, seeing more in them than I’d ever seen. Not merely eyes, nose and hair style, but colors and light, like I’d seen around Phil the night at Sully’s. Auras, I think the new-age freaks call them. Phil’s was dim and murky, more sensed than seen, a sickly aura for a dying man. After that, the colors faded from the world and I’d thought nothing else of it. Until today. Now they radiated everywhere, lustrous, scintillating. The Aurora Borealis of emanations brought a smile to my face despite of my grim work ahead.

A bird flew overhead, twittering as it went. Then another. A group of three more raced by, wheeling across the sky.

“Hello, Gabe.”

She slipped her arm through mine like we’d known each other for decades, perhaps dated. The thought didn’t disagree with me.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Mmm.” I glanced down at her face raised toward the sun and my stomach clenched.
Does she know what happened?
“You don’t get out much, do you?”

“Not like this. I can’t feel the warmth unless I have a body.”

“What brings you today? I already have my next project.”

“Michael asked me to drop in and check on you.”

“Tell Dad I’m fine.” I smiled through the embarrassment coloring my cheeks without really meaning it. Mikey made me nervous. “I thought you were the messenger.”

“I am.” She stooped to pet a dog tethered to a bike rack, nearly pulling me off my feet with the sudden stop. “Hello puppy. What a good puppy.” The dog accepted her rub behind the ears with enthusiasm. I tugged at her arm to get her moving again.

“So what’s the message?” I asked as we left the dog behind to whine at her absence. I understood how he felt.

“No hard feelings.”

This time I pulled her to a halt. “That’s it? He sends me to Hell, threatens to put me there for eternity and then says ‘no hard feelings’?”

“Umm, I don’t think he meant that. He did that out of love.”

“Love?”

“Yep. He wants what’s best for you.”

“Right.” I chuffed a laugh through my nose. “And Hell is what’s best for me.”

“No, but knowing the consequences of your actions is. Besides, I think what he means is he forgives you for your slip.”

“My slip?”

Does she mean the drugs or the priest?

“Both, I think.”

“I--”

“It’s okay.” She pulled me on again. “What is it you mortals say? Shit happens?”

“But father Dominic--”

“Sometimes things happen for a reason, Icarus.”

I thought about inquiring further but stopped myself. The more I thought about what happened with the priest, the more disappointed I felt for letting a soul slip through my fingers.

I could have been one harvest close to Trevor.

We walked for a while, saying nothing. Gabe looked in shop windows, waiting for me to speak. I couldn’t. I wanted to be angry at Mike for his attitude, but burning guilt and embarrassment halted my tongue. I couldn’t muster the anger any more than I could be mad at Sister Mary-Therese for her disappointment in me.

“Tell Mikey I’m cool,” I said finally. “I appreciate his concern.”

“Good.” She pulled my arm to stop me again, stood on her toes and kissed me lightly first on one cheek then the other like we were Parisian amies. The touch of her lips sent a prickling sensation through my head. “My job’s done. Thanks for the walk.”

“There’s still time, Gabe. Tell me how I can save Phil.”

“Can’t be done. Once the words are on the scroll, the fate is sealed.”

She released my arm and left me standing in the middle of the sidewalk, pedestrian traffic flowing around me like a rock in the middle of a stream. Were I a dog, I’d have whined a little to mourn her departure.

***

By the time I found Poe sitting on a bench outside the hospital’s main entrance, I’d given up wondering why Mikey didn’t seem more upset about me letting Azrael take Father Dominic’s soul. Some things we’re not meant to know.

When Poe saw me, she smiled and tapped her wrist in the place where a watch would be if she wore one. I smiled in return.

“Sorry. Ran into Gabe.”

“Oh.” Her teasing smile sagged. “What did she want?”

“Nothing. Just a message from Mike.” I tilted my head as I looked at her. “What’s the look about?”

“I was worried she might have given you a different assignment, that’s all.” Her tone suggested that wasn’t it at all. “What did Michael have to say?”

“‘No hard feelings.’”

“Oh. He didn’t mention me?”

I raised an eyebrow, both at her comment and the twinge of jealousy it created in me. “No. Should he?”

She shook her head briskly, ponytail flapping at the back of her head. I thought about pursuing her comment, finding a juicy tidbit with which to tease my guardian angel, but Phil’s time approached. It would have to wait.

Hospital sounds and smells ambushed me as we stepped through the sliding glass doors, making me queasy. After dying amongst the odor of medicines, the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum, I’d rather avoid them but, given my new vocation, it might prove difficult. Hospitals ranked as my least favorite places. Check that: I hated jails more. Generally speaking, only your medical insurance provider tries to anally rape you in the hospital.

“What?” Lost in my loathing, I didn’t hear Poe when she spoke.

“The target. We should ask what room he’s in.”

“The scroll said he’s in eight-twelve. And the target has a name: Phil.”

She gasped and put her hand on my arm. “Phil? Your Phil?”

I nodded and pressed the elevator call button.

“I’m sorry, Icarus. He was a good friend.”

I shrugged her comment off like a tough guy as the elevator doors slid open and we stepped aboard, riding to the eighth floor in silence.

We stepped off the elevator into a waiting area decorated sometime before my birth. Three haggard-looking adults sat on the green-upholstered couches while a boy of about three-years-old played with blocks on the floor.

“Come on,” Poe said yanking my arm.

As we headed down the short hall toward a set of doors, I glanced back over my shoulder toward the waiting area. Two of the adults in the waiting room, I didn’t recognize; to my surprise, the third was Marty.

The words ‘Intensive Care Unit’ were etched ominously on the frosted glass windows set in the doors at the end of the hall. To the left, a sour-looking woman in her mid-fifties attended the nurses’ station. She wore one of those annoying multicolored tops which had supplanted the good, old-fashioned white uniforms. Too bad, I found those old uniforms far sexier than the new clown suits. Mind you, lingerie and plastic surgery probably wouldn’t have moved this particular nurse into the vicinity of sexy.

I turned my thoughts back to more pleasant things--like Phil’s death--then pulled Poe aside before we reached the sourpuss.

“It’s I.C.U. They won’t let us in.”

She regarded the nurse at her station. “I can get us in.”

“No, I’ll do it.” If she could, so could I, my ego insisted. “Wait here.”

I sauntered down the hall, brushing hair out of my eyes and putting on my most charming smile. I stopped in front of the surly-looking nurse and waited for her to look up from her paperwork. She didn’t.

“Ahem.”

“Can I help you?” Eyes still on papers.

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