The Day of Legion (20 page)

Patricia found herself watching the truck ram her parent’s car repeatedly. Her father died on the first impact. She knew this, because she saw him leave his body and stand by the car, waiting for her mother. His form was light and glowed slightly in the late afternoon sun.

Moments later she saw her mother leave her body and walk to her father, where he grasped her hand and whispered something in her ear. She smiled and turned, looking directly at Patricia. They knew she was there, and knew they had done the right thing.

The truck driver got out of the cab and walked to what was left of the car. He bent over and looked in, whistling. He was proud. He then walked to the tree the car was pinned to and urinated at its base like an animal marking its territory.

The black form stood near her mother and father, but wouldn’t approach them. He just stood and watched, waiting for something. Patricia smelled smoke at first, then the rancid smell of decaying meat.

A dark angel appeared above her parents in the air. Black wings twice as long as its body extended towards the sky. Its leathery skin twisted tightly across its muscles as it extended its hand toward them. It tried to smile, to fake friendliness, but its red, vengeful eyes left it exposed. It curled its lips back and showed its black, rotting teeth over a raw, red tongue.

A light appeared suddenly around her parents, so bright the dark angel and other dark figure had to shield their eyes. Patricia watched as a white angel gently wrapped them both in the protection of its wings. The angel was the opposite of the beast floating above them. Its wings extended high above it. They were strong and thick. Its skin was white as snow; the light radiating from it was warm and loving. It wore a flowing white robe that waved as though in a gentle current. Slowly the three of them faded away. Patricia knew they were safe and happy.

The dark angel looked directly at her. Its eyes narrowed, its mouth curled into a snarl and it charged down at her through the air, leaving a trail of black smoke behind it. As it got closer she could smell it, feel its anger and hatred for her. The angel was huge beside her.

Just as it was about to collide she jumped...and found herself standing next to Elizabeth.

She realized she had been explaining to David and Amanda everything she had just remembered. Amanda had tears in her eyes and David looked pale. Jason was asleep on the sofa. Elizabeth smiled warmly.

“She can see like Albert,” Amanda said, amazed.

Elizabeth looked at them all. “The time is approaching.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Matthew Roper lay fast asleep, dreaming about running. He always ran in his dreams, but had no idea what he was running from. He can remember dreaming about running as a child and, according to his mother, he was the most restless sleeper she had ever known.

She told him once that when they picked him up at the orphanage after the adoption had been completed, he’d fallen asleep in the reception area waiting for them. She laughed when she told him his little legs were pumping as he lay asleep, as though running.

He awoke suddenly, a sharp pain shooting through his lower back like a bullet. He winced and rolled onto his side. Looking at the clock, he saw it was midnight.

He cursed quietly, trying to remember the last time he slept through the night. Usually he got to at least three in the morning before waking. He was about to roll onto his other side, when he thought of the man at the crime scene that day.

He sat up in bed and turned on the light. The old nutter told him he would wake up at midnight with a pain in his back. He smiled at the coincidence and got up to stretch his back muscles.

He walked to the window and placed his hands on the sill. He had found that, if he stretched his arms on the window sill and bent over, he would get enough of a stretch in his lower back to ease it and could get back to sleep.

As he was about to bend over, he looked out the window. He saw a man standing on the street outside his house, under the streetlight. He was making no effort to hide. He didn’t look suspicious, but looked very familiar.

The man looked at the window and waved. Matthew opened the window, but before he could open his mouth, the man spoke to him.

“Sore back at midnight?”

“Mister Baker,” Matthew called out. “Wait there.”

He thought he saw a smile on Baker’s face, but wasn’t sure. He pulled on jeans, a t-shirt and shoes and went outside. Baker was still standing there smiling. Matthew had questions, but asked the most important one first.

“How do you know where I live?”

Baker nodded as though he agreed that was the appropriate first question.

“Mister Roper, you have been watched by the light your entire life. We have kept you safe until now, but the darkness is planning something. You are in danger.”

“I think you should go, Mister Baker, before I call my associates and have you arrested for stalking a law enforcement officer.”

As Matthew started to walk away, he stopped dead in his tracks at the question posed by Baker behind him.

“Do you think your back is sore because you run in your sleep?”

Matthew spun around. “Have you been in my house?” he asked angrily.

Baker smiled. “No. In your dreams.”

Matthew just stared. He regretted coming outside, he should have called a patrol car.

Baker took a step closer to him. “Think hard, Matthew. When you’re running in your dreams, you have always felt someone there. You’ve felt someone protecting you and holding back what has been chasing you all of these years.”

Matthew wanted to deny it, wanted to tell him he was crazy, but he was right. If he thought about it honestly—and he often did—he had always sensed someone next to him, protecting him from whatever it was he was running from.

“How...do you know what I dream about?”

Baker moved right in close and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“As hard as this is to understand, I am your guardian on earth. I have been since you were in Saint Michael’s orphanage. I’ve protected you. That’s my job.”

Matthew nearly laughed, but thought that might upset him.

Baker spoke again. “Remember when you started in the police force, about a week into the job, you went into an abandoned house on Lexington Avenue?”

Matthew nodded suspiciously.

“You remember hearing a voice telling you to ‘stop right now’ and you did? A man jumped out of the shadows with a knife, and if you hadn’t stopped, you would have been stabbed in the face?”

He didn’t wait for Matthew to answer.

“That voice was me. Just like it was me telling you to stop at the green light on View Terrace, when a car ran a red light that would have hit you in the driver’s door. It was me, telling you to draw your firearm before going into the factory on Mason Street, when the woman burglar was waiting with the baseball bat. It was me who told you to step back from the junkie last week when he suddenly swung at you with his needle. You sent it off for analysis, and it was reported as being full of HIV-positive blood, but you already knew that. Because I told you.”

Matthew was stunned. “You can’t know all of this! How are you doing this?”

Baker replied quietly. “Think, Matthew. You have been given the ability to see things, to use your energy for good. You just have to remember how, because you’ve suppressed it for so long.”

A strong wind came up suddenly. All the lights exploded down the street, the pops sending sparks flying. Darkness filled the space once occupied by the dull yellow glow of street lighting. The only illumination now came from the crescent moon.

Matthew jumped. Baker stood still, his eyes fixed on him.

“They’re here, Matthew,” he had to shout over the wind. “You can see them, but you have to look.”

Matthew saw nothing except rubbish blowing up the street. He looked above him, and only saw the night sky.

“Look with your soul,” Baker shouted. “You have to see before it’s too late. I can’t do anything to help you now.”

Matthew saw something out of the corner of his eye. It was a dark flash that whizzed by. Somehow it was darker than the night, but when he tried to focus on it he couldn’t see it.

Then he saw another flash and another, until all he could see were dark masses flying above, around and around faster and faster.

Then he heard them: hundreds of voices calling his name, evil and anger mixed with strained, hoarse tones. “Maattheeew. Come home to usssss!”

Slowly, figures came into focus. Matthew, frozen in fear, could see their bodies and faces. They stared at him with red, dangerous eyes as they flew about. He could see long black wings trailing them. The smell of rotten flesh filled his nostrils and he gagged, knowing this was what he had been running from. These things had been watching him; he could sense them in his dreams. They were the temptations he felt, they were the little voices telling him to break the rules, but he’d always fought them. He fought to be righteous.

The beasts continued to circle, but a large one dropped low and floated in front of the two men. It put its face right in front of Matthew’s. He could feel its hot breath and smell the foul odor. A hot wind pummeled Matthew with each beat of its black wings.

It had the distorted features of a man. Matthew could read its past in its eyes. He saw the man’s birth in the early 1700’s. He was beaten regularly and molested by two uncles, willing participants with the darkness. He saw the boy in his early teens, strangling a kitten and discarding the body under the trees. He saw his first rape, his first murder, his first armed robbery and his first opium high.

He saw him rape young men in prison and stab a guard when his back was turned. He saw his death: executed by hanging. The darkness claimed him. Now he wore the image of his soul. Black, leathery skin, red angry eyes, distorted features and a foul odor.

Matthew was too scared to move. The beast looked him in the eye, his chest heaving with each breath and his wings slowly flapping back and forth, hovering in front of him.

“Matthew, the light promises everything. They say love and compassion is everything, you just have to live righteously. They say the darkness is cruel and mean, but the darkness is real. Darkness lets you do what you want: kill, maim, take what you want and do what you want with no recourse. What is more real than that?”

Matthew could feel himself being drawn in. He felt temptation like never before and it felt fantastic. He felt his nerves tingle, his skin crackle. His senses came alive and he felt immense pleasure flowing thickly through his veins.

The beast smiled. “Feel the power of the darkness. Feel what the light calls bad. Come to us Matthew. Come to your destiny.”

He heard another voice. It belonged to Baker. “Matthew, fight it! Fight what they offer you. What you’re feeling is false. Look into its soul!”

The beast turned its head quickly and spat black phlegm at Baker. “Shut up, traitor! He has made up his mind.”

Matthew fell backwards on to the road. He looked up at the beast hovering above him and knew exactly what his destiny was. This was what his entire life was leading up to. He could see it clearly now, could feel it in his blood.

The beast, sensing his thoughts, became enraged. It rose above them, raised his wings and plummeted downwards, its hind talons pointed at Matthew’s chest.

Matthew rolled to the side. The beast struck the asphalt of the road, cutting through it like butter, and spat at him while scrambling to its feet. It shrieked, calling for the others, but they continued to circle, afraid to help their fellow angel.

Matthew got up and walked slowly toward the beast. He felt guided, as though he were standing outside his body watching, but moving all the same. He reached out and grabbed the beast by the throat.

At first it thought it could break free, so it smiled defiantly. When Matthew’s grip tightened and the beast felt itself being choked, it began to panic. It flapped its wings frantically and attempted to plunge its talons into him, but this had no effect. It released a shrill squeal, spit blood and saliva into Matthew’s face, but he held on and tightened his grip.

A light shot forth from his body, uncontrolled. It showered the beast in the pure white energy that had been suppressed for years. It screamed as flesh peeled from its bones. Its eyes widened and burst. Its body shook violently, then disintegrated to a pile of dust on the ground.

Matthew released his grip, allowing the remains in his hand to fall. He fell backwards, drained of energy, unconscious and unmoving. Baker, who had been standing to the side, looked up. The other beasts had fled as soon as they saw what was happening.

He crouched down and picked Matthew up, and sat him in the back of his car. He lifted him easily, his strength that of ten men. He turned around to look at the road. The beast’s remains were nowhere to be seen. He looked back at Matthew as he lay on the back seat. He knew what was coming.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Patricia lay on her bed thinking. She had just woken up from a dream-filled sleep and could remember everything. She saw the long-suppressed memories of her time with Albert at the sanctuary. The memories were fractured, but they were slowly building a total picture of what she had been through as a child.