The Book of Daniel (31 page)

“I thank the Lord for whatever He did that evening that brought me back to timely consciousness—both literally and metaphorically! Mary Jane’s affections might have been a safeguard designed to prevent the dog from turning on its masters, but little did my ‘masters’ know that the dog was wise to their game, and mindful of who its real master was! Yes, the shards of Jack’s heart were tumbling to the ground, but with his placid appearance, the witches suspected nothing was wrong, and their treachery filled me with a purpose that soothed the pain. Unlike Christ, recoiling from His divine appointment on the cross and pleading for the cup to be passed to another, I gladly accepted the task that Adonai commissioned to me. By the time Lilith came to leave, no regrets remained about what I had been shown I must do, only anxiety about the intricacies of the execution. Ha ha, a fine pun, don’t you think?

“In the silence after Lilith’s departure, I was careful to maintain a steady pattern of breathing for a while. Slowly, the sleeping giant awakened, turning to gaze into his beloved’s eyes, a reassuring smile on his lips. He radiates love when all that is within him is hate and crushed dreams. His look says yes, it is safe to approach, dear Mary Jane; his mouth says he is hungry. Perhaps I could trouble you for a little food? Thank you. What’s that? No, I was paying attention, I was merely distracted by the firelight reflected in the blade of my knife. You say you are going to free me? Now? I thought the plan was for me to regain my strength before venturing forth, and in truth, I am still a little fatigued (see how cunning I am not to let her know my true strength!). Forget the plan, you say? You cannot stand by while the Five Sisters treat me this way; let us flee this nest of vipers!

“As you can imagine, Jack was sorely puzzled by this sudden and unexpected development. Oh, that it were true, that dear Mary Jane was as much a prisoner as I, and that I could free her from this infernal company! But as she untied the knots that held me, her talk of escape did not ring as true as the conspiratorial plotting with her bloody sister had done, and Jack knew, he
knew
, that it was a trick. God had not commanded me to run away from these abominations, but to engage with them and purge them from society! So confident in her black art is Mary Jane that she even presses Devorah into my now-unbound hands, urging me to help her open the window and slip away into the night. For a moment, standing dumbfounded behind her as she rattles at the latch, I almost succumb to her sweet temptation, but then Devorah began to sing, and with that, the enchantment was finally undone! With all the strength of the angels of Adonai, I plunged my blade into Mary Jane’s neck, and not just once, either; with my release, a torrent of emotion swept Jack into a frenzy. He hates; he loves; he sings; he sobs; but at no point does his holy knife pause in its work, its gleaming blade furiously sending this most deceptive of harlots to oblivion, piece by piece.”

Jack lapsed into silence, and the familiar sounds of the battle in Purgatory eagerly leapt in to fill the gap. I realised just how little I had noticed their absence; Jack’s story had captivated me just as surely as the witches’ spells he described, and coupled with the fatigue that swam through my body, the whole experience of listening to him was like living through somebody else’s dream. That might be exactly what it was, of course—it was still quite possible that my rescuer had merely deluded himself into thinking he was Jack the Ripper—but if he was who he said he was, then it certainly wouldn’t be the strangest thing I had come across in the afterlife. And if he wasn’t… well, what did it matter? There was no way I could possibly tell truth from madness, and the state I was in, I was happy not to try too hard anyway. My brain had already had enough to be getting on with for one day, thank you, and was doing its best to wrap itself up in the telling of Jack’s story, rather than dwelling on the fact that I had lately been judged beyond redemption.

I was still trying to get my head around the years—the
decades
—that Jack must have been trapped in Purgatory, when he resumed his tale once again. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I could hear tears in his voice.

“I made sure she was dead before I left. Oh yes, nice and sure. Not just because I needed to make amends to Adonai for my transgressions. Not just because I was angry at her deception. And not just because I exalted in being able to practice my craft again, neither, although that was a bittersweet pleasure. No, I had to send a clear message to the rest of the sorceresses: Jack would be no witch’s pet! And they’d better be ready when their time came!

“I left the room all neat and tidy—after a fashion, heh heh—and stole away into the night, right out the front door. There were no other guards to hinder my passage, and the fact of their absence proved Mary Jane’s mendacity. Why else would she encourage us to leave through a window, if a perfectly good door was to hand, unless it was to lend credence to her deception? You may say she did not know, and wished to avoid any risk of being seen as we escaped, but I will hear no such words. I know I was right!

“My soul sang at the rediscovery and revalidation of its purpose, ah, but perhaps a little too loudly, for I did not notice the sound of my approaching doom until it was too late.” I felt myself lifted high as Jack took a deep breath and let it out in an enormous sigh. The part of my mind that was not entirely consumed by Jack’s tale noted that as my body shifted, there was now only a resentful mutter of pain instead of an urgent scream. “Yes, that very same night, I, too, met my end. Not at the hands of the coven, no. I like to think my sudden disappearance led them a merry dance. Instead, a humbling, inglorious way for Jack to die. After all his struggles against the armies of the unholy, after all the battles in his crusade, he meets his end in a dim Whitechapel alleyway at the end of the knife of a common cutthroat. How’s that for cruel irony? One moment I am the sharp point of God’s wrath, the next I’m flat on me back with a knife hole in my gut and some vagabond whistling off down the street with what little money he found in my pockets.

“I lay there in the dark, bleeding, dying, weeping, life ebbing out of me, I know not how long for, and all the while wondering what I had done to invoke Adonai’s wrath so shortly after He had freed me to resume His work. But I should have known better than to doubt Him. Jack was not being removed from the battle, no, but was being promoted instead, here, to the front lines, in Purgatory! This is where the real war is fought! My work in Whitechapel was all well and good, but here, ah, just look at the banquet of opportunities there is to feast on! Praise God for His blessings! Praise God!”

I myself felt disinclined to do so. I could not tell whether the ache in my chest was due to the sword I had so recently stuck through it, or because the chances of seeing Jo again looked smaller than ever, but it didn’t seem to matter either way. The cold fact remained that God had completely abandoned me, and despite all the progress I thought I had made during my time in Purgatory, I was right back where I’d started from. Or worse. The conclusion to Jack’s tale filled me with a leaden sense of despair. I had hoped that his story would give me some kind of hope or understanding, but in the end, his was just another case of someone who had placed all his faith in God, and for what good? If he hadn’t already been mad before he came to Purgatory, then the decades trapped here had done the job instead, and if this was the fate that I had to look forward to now that I was stuck here too, then perhaps I was no better off than if Jack had left me to the demons after all.

Chapter 20

I
must have passed out around that time, because the next thing I knew, we were back inside the city again. Jack gently lowered me to my feet and stood back. I fully expected to collapse in a bleeding heap, but my legs were steady. I took an experimental breath. No trace of pain remained. If it hadn’t been for the glut of half-dried blood across the front of my armour, I wouldn’t have believed I had ever been injured, let alone close to death. I looked up at Jack, my disbelief clearly written on my face, judging by his joyful laugh.

“Amazing, is it not? As good as new! But now you must promise me that you will take better care of this body of yours, this gift from Adonai. He did not give it to ye to squander, but to serve Him with. Suicide is not the answer!”

“I hate to disappoint you, Jack, but God doesn’t care what I do with this body anymore. Right before you came to my rescue, one of the angels told me that God won’t save me ever again. I’m damned if I’m going out there on the battlefield again; quite literally, if any of the demons catch me.”

“Pah, what do the Silvertops know? They told me long ago that Jack was out of favour with God, but just look at me! Every day I cut a swath through Satan’s rabble, and every day I return safely to Jerusalem.” A sly look came into his eyes. “You know something? I suspect the Lord is testing us, my friend; only the greatest of His warriors are challenged to face such impossible odds. But with faith, prayers and a good blade in your hand, how can you fail?”

“No offence, Jack, but I had enough of God’s ‘tests’ in my old life, and none of them did me any good. Forgive me if I’m having trouble seeing this latest development as somehow being the best possible thing that could have happened to me.”

“But it is, don’t you see? A sword does not become strong without being plunged repeatedly into the fire and beaten with the hammer. It is not that Adonai hates you, sir, but that He wants to forge you into a mighty instrument of His will! I recognised that spirit of steel in you the first day we met, and what I’ve seen of your work on the battlefield since that day—yes, I’ve been watching—only confirms it.” Jack laughed. “Even a stupid thing like sticking a sword through your own ribcage takes the kind of courage that few men ever know! Ah, if only I could get it through to you. All ye need do is recognise that your hardships are what bring you closer to God; that’s precisely why he puts you through them. Once you understand that, you can release the resentment that you harbour and fulfil your true potential. The demons would not stand a chance!”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I’m in no rush to get myself killed fighting for a God who’s given up on me.”

Jack’s frown was like a winter cloud. “Such fear does not suit you well, sir.”

“It’s not fear—at least not of what’s out there. It’s pragmatism. I don’t have the kind of faith in God that you do, Jack, and Him having just turned his back on me doesn’t exactly make me want to burst out singing ‘Jesus loves me, this I know’. I just can’t figure it out. I really thought I was beginning to understand what He wanted of me, but then suddenly He turns everything on its head again and leaves me feeling like shit. The only thing I’m certain of at the moment is that running around a field full of demons without any kind of safety net is a good way to get myself killed, permanently, and I’m not going to be any good to my wife like that. That’s the only thing that scares me, Jack: that I won’t ever get to see her again.”

“Ah yes, the woman I see fighting by your side so often. I understand your concern. You are a lucky man!”

“No, that’s not my wife, that’s Harper. My wife’s name is Jo. She went to Heaven almost straight after she died, whereas I got stuck here instead. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get back to her ever since. I know what you’re going to say, and it’s the same thing as everyone else in this damned place: trust in God, make your peace with Him and everything will work out just fine. Believe me, I’ve tried. I really have. And what do I get for my trouble? ‘Sorry, Dan, not good enough. Game over.’ Now all I’ve got to look forward to is Hell, or an eternity trapped in this fucking shit heap, which amounts to pretty much the same thing.”

“But you discount the third possibility: that you will yet be reunited with your love in Heaven. I see the look on your face, but do not be so quick to give up, my friend! You are closer than you know. If Adonai has sent you a direct message—of whatever kind—then He has been watching you, and has chosen this moment in your journey through the afterlife to set this new challenge before you. All you must do is ask yourself what the correct response should be. But I tell ye this much: I am sure that the answer is not to give up.”

Maybe my brain was suffering from all the blood I had lost, because with these words, I suddenly found myself agreeing with a lot of the crazy shit that Jack was saying. Just as God had done to my life, He had also done to Jack’s: taken away everything he had and abandoned him to his fate in Purgatory. Yet the difference was that Jack remained faithful. Instead of turning away from God, he seemed to be thankful for his misfortunes—even to
embrace
them—and his reasons for doing so even seemed to make a wild kind of sense. And it was a sense that applied just as well to my own situation; after all, if God is omnipotent and doesn’t make mistakes, then His decision to abandon me, or at least to
tell
me that He’d abandoned me, must have been for a deliberate purpose. If His mercy was as great as Jo and Thomas and everybody else kept saying, then surely there should
always
be hope for redemption. Of course my brush with death was still shockingly fresh in my mind... but if I stopped to think about it, was it really that close a brush? Despite the angel’s words, Jack had turned up at exactly the right moment to save my hide, even in the face of my own best efforts to cheat the demons out of their dark pleasures. I again found myself wondering if, beneath his wild appearance and protestations to the contrary, Jack really was an angel himself… and being more fully in control of my mental faculties than the last time I wondered this, I decided to ask him once more.

As before, the question seemed to amuse Jack greatly, and he threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Ha, I did not know that your head had been injured, too, my friend! I already told you that Jack is no angel! And I know precisely why God has not yet promoted me into the Heavenly Host, too: because He knows that as soon as I have all the powers of a Silvertop at my disposal, very soon there wouldn’t be enough demons left to go around! Ha!”