Princes of Arkwright (5 page)

“
Where are we going?” asked Tucker, dazed and still doubled over in pain.

“
I would vouchsafe that those ruffians are looking for blood – yours,” said the stranger, as he threw open the door. “We have to make an exit with great celerity, and this distressed automobile will have to do.”

“
That’s my car,” muttered Tucker.

“
Oh,” said the stranger. “It is aesthetically unpleasing.”

He carefully put Tucker inside, then hopped into the driver
’s seat.

“
I really shouldn’t let you drive,” protested Tucker, but the stranger ignored him and started the engine just as the four men came exploding out of the bar. They jumped into a black sedan as the stranger stepped on the accelerator. He hit the brake and cut the wheel, spinning the car around, and started heading back over the bridge.

“
I can’t believe they’re pursuing us,” said Tucker with great effort, clutching his back. “The police station isn’t far. I’ll just radio for help.”

The black sedan was close to the police car as both picked up speed across the bridge. As Tucker reached for the microphone, the stranger turned sharply, and the car smashed through the railing, careening off the bridge. Tucker felt his heart in his throat as he saw the
rocky river rushing toward him. He closed his eyes and braced for the crash. He waited an eternity. Still he felt the car accelerating forward. The face of every crash victim he ever saw flashed in his mind. Every punctured lung, every decapitation, and every mangled corpse he ever beheld sped through his thoughts. Still he felt the car accelerating forward. He had just enough capacity for rational thought to know the fall wouldn’t take this long. He slowly opened one eye. Tucker doubted his senses  when he saw the car speeding along the surface of the river and kicking up a translucent spray of water on each side of the car.

His
mouth fell open and he turned to the driver looking for an answer. The expressionless features and burning iridescent gaze told Tucker that the stranger hadn’t suffered the same horror. He said nothing, but concentrated on the watery highway. Tucker couldn’t be hallucinating this time. The pain in his back was all too real. He cringed in his seat, drew his knees to his chin, and let out a little whimper.

He stared intently at the stranger, who appeared to be scanning the riverbank for something. He hit the brake, the curtain of water fell, and the car turned onto a boat launch, coming to a stop on a dirt road in the middle of the woods.

Tucker suddenly wished he hadn’t gone looking for the stranger after all. What had he expected to find out, anyway? That he was crazy? He obviously hadn’t thought this through. Tucker was staring through the windshield at nothing in particular when the soothing baritone voice of the stranger broke into his thoughts.

“
Be not afraid,” he said. Tucker jerked his head and shrank under the fiery stare of his companion. It was too much. He burst open his door and fell onto the gravelly dirt. The stranger slowly opened his door and walked around the front of the car, kicking up dust that created green sparkles in the beams of the headlights. He knelt beside the prostrate form of Tucker, pressing his open palm against the detective’s back. At the first touch, the pain of the kidney stones vanished. Tucker looked up at his rescuer, who was silhouetted against the moon that had just broken through the clouds. His appearance was completely ordinary, save that he was fringed with an almost imperceptible glow.

“
Who are you?” Tucker asked at last.

“
My name is Uriel,” said the stranger, “one of the seven archangels who enter and serve before the glory of the Lord.”

6. APPEARANCES

T
ucker was now lying on his back in the dirt. The pieces of gravel dug into his elbows as he propped himself up slightly. It was not an easy task, for his limbs had committed mutiny and were no longer taking orders from his brain. His companion reached down to offer assistance, but Tucker winced at his near-touch, and drew back.

“
Archangel?” repeated Tucker, with just a hint of the usual intensity in his eyes.

“
Yes,” said Uriel.

The world was swimming before him as in a dream. But the cold gravel made him just uncomfortable enough to abort the idea that he was dreaming before he even had it. Tucker was one of those people who equates pain and discomfort with reality. And he had experienced just enough of both to keep him grounded.

“And what brings you to Arkwright, archangel?” he finally asked.

“
I have a job to do – and to protect you.”

“
To protect me?” said Tucker, suddenly back in possession of his arms and legs.

“
That’s a small part of it,” he replied. “I have a task to perform.”

“
And what is it?” asked the detective, now rising to his feet.

“
I do not yet know.”

“
I see,” said Tucker, pulling on his ear, as he often did when interrogating suspects. “And do archangels always just go around announcing who they are to everybody?”

“
Not everybody,” he said. “Just to some people.”

“
Do you think it’s wise to just go around telling people that?”

“
It is wise to keep the secrets of a king,” said Uriel. “But the works of the Lord should be made known.”

“
I don’t believe in God,” snapped Tucker, losing his last trace of fear. Uriel let out a quick laugh that sounded like a muted trumpet blast. “I do,” he said.

Tucker
’s only response to this was to walk around to the driver’s side of the car.

“
All right,” he said at last. “I’ll drive us back downtown – if that’s OK with you.”

Uriel sat in the car and closed the door while Tucker started the engine. He was familiar with the area, having fished here several times, and had no trouble finding the highway.

“So,” said Tucker, after a minute’s silence, and with a sardonic smile on his face. “How long have you been an archangel?”

“
Your questions will cease now, son of man,” said Uriel, turning his fiery gaze upon Tucker. The detective jumped a little at the authority in his companion’s voice. And they continued their short journey in silence. Tucker was determined to stay flat-footed on the ground, though he had no immediate explanation for the things he had witnessed. He had heard people say a lot of strange things over the years. Just last week, a junkie walked into the police station saying he had silver implants throughout his body that he wanted removed. But those people sounded nothing like the steady, confident voice of Uriel. Tucker pulled the car into the police station lot, relieved to get it back in one piece.

“
Well, I guess this is where we part company, angel,” said Tucker. “It’s been a long night and I’m barely up for the walk home.”

“
I will accompany you, son of man,” said Uriel; and the two began walking up Station Street.

“
Why do you keep calling me that?” asked Tucker. “I have a name, you know. It’s Tucker Bromley.”

“
Well, Tuckerbromley,” returned Uriel, “Why do you keep calling me ‘angel’? I have a name. It is Uriel.”

“
Right,” said Tucker. “My apologies.”

As they approached
St. Michael’s Church, Tucker stopped and looked at the imposing edifice.

“
Isn’t this where you stay?” asked Tucker, hoping to separate from his companion, since he really didn’t want Uriel to know where he lived.

“
What is this building?” he asked.

“
It’s a church,” said Tucker slowly. “Don’t you know what a church is?”

Uriel opened his mouth to speak, but the sound was cut off by a cry for help. It was the voice of an elderly woman and seemed to come from a small alley next to the church. Tucker and Uriel ran to the head of the alley and saw the shadowy figure of a woman defending herself from an attacker. Tucker sprinted down the alley. As he got closer, he could clearly make out the features of the shabby man he almost hit with his car earlier that day. He was grabbing the old woman
’s wrist while she was trying to fight him off with her cane. Tucker grabbed the man on both shoulders and pulled him away, throwing him against the wall of the church.

“
You see, these are the things we humans have to deal with, Uriel” he said, casting a glance back over his shoulder. Uriel’s face was expressionless as he approached the bent form of the elderly lady. Suddenly he pulled back his arm and landed a violent punch squarely on the old woman’s face. She let out a shriek and fell backward as Tucker and the shabby man watched with mouths wide open. Both were paralyzed with horror as Uriel fell on the woman, landing blow after blow on her tiny, frail body. Tucker relinquished his grasp on the shabby man, who bolted, muttering to himself as he escaped. Uriel finally relented and the crying woman began crawling away.

“
Uriel, what the hell are you doing?” yelled Tucker, still shaking at the sight. “What is wrong with you?”

The detective started after the old woman, but the voice of Uriel commanded,
“Wait!”

Tucker stopped, but kept his eyes fixed on the old woman, who continued to crawl away. She hobbled on her hands and knees. After a few seconds, she seemed to be moving a little faster. Then, still on all fours, she sped off, scurrying across the yard and up the church wall like a cockroach. Tucker shivered and tried to speak, but he could only manage a whisper.

“Uriel, what is this?”

In response, the angel reached out and touched Tucker on the arm. The old lady transformed. She was shiny, maroon and scaly, with cloven feet and backward-jointed knees. From the top of her head grew two horns that curved back under her ears. As Tucker watched the creature with horror, she stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. Her face was twisted and disfigured. Two slits served for nostrils beneath her beady red eyes, and her teeth were oddly shaped fangs that grew past her lips and pointed in all directions. The next moment, she had scurried along the top of a wall surrounding the churchyard. When she reached the part of the wall closest to the river, she disappeared over the opposite side.

As Tucker watched this Kafkaesque transformation, he had slowly retreated until his back was squarely against the church wall, clinging to it in desperation. He tried to let out a sound, any sound, but his voice was choked and he could barely breathe. Uriel walked toward Tucker, the moon shining brightly on the angel’s face. His face remained expressionless, and his heavy eyelids looked more tired than ever.

“
That, son of man,” said Uriel, with the air of a schoolmaster, “was a demon. It is something we angels have to deal with.”

Once again, Tucker collapsed and whimpered.
It was a few minutes before he was able to recover. A cloud moved in front of the moon, and the darkness of the alley was palpable. The wind whistled around the church’s twin spires, and Tucker groped his way back toward Station Street. The angel walked beside him as if he saw just as well in the dark as in the light.

As Tucker reached the sidewalk and the safe glow of a streetlamp, he sat down on a low brick wall, tightly clutching the iron fence that surrounded the front churchyard.

“It’s true,” said Tucker. “It’s all true. I was so sure. I thought there was no way. I didn’t …”

“
That is very interesting, Tuckerbromley,” said Uriel, still peering into the darkness of the church alley. “You have witnessed the majesty of God, been saved by his hand, and conversed with a prince of the presence. But it is only now that you have met a scurrying little subdemon that you are ready to forswear your beliefs and offer a profession of faith. Humanity is sick-making.”

Throughout this lecture, Tucker had been studying the angel with growing admiration. He stood up, looking up and down
Station Street, but couldn’t spot another soul.

“
I was just about to arrest that man and charge him with felonious assault on the elderly. I would have testified that I saw him do it with my own eyes, and he was completely innocent.”

“
Appearances are sometimes deceiving,” said Uriel.

“
And to think, that little old lady was a demon,” said Tucker his eyes wide open as he replayed the scene in his mind. “Are all old ladies demons?”

“
Do not be stupid, Tuckerbromley,” said the angel, grabbing Tucker’s arm and pulling him farther up Station Street.

“
Hold on,” Tucker protested. “I don’t think I can walk right now.”