The Rise of the Fallen (The Angelic Wars Book 2) (38 page)

“
I'd imagine it
would be,” Judge Hawkes said with sympathy.

“
Anyway, there was
this one night that I found a place in the middle of some really
dense bushes in a park. It was in August, I think. Warm, at least.
But sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up. Just boom; one
minute I was asleep and the next I was standing in these bushes, my
heart racing a mile a minute.” Chris looked away from the judge
as he relived the memories. “But there was nothing there. As
far as I could tell, the park was empty. No people, no sounds of
traffic. Just quiet.”

He took a sip of his
coffee and frowned. It was getting cold.

“
But I couldn't get
back to sleep. This feeling, like the one I've had for some time now,
kept pushing me, telling me to move, get out of the park. So I
finally did. I found another place a few miles away behind a bus
shelter and slept there.”

He stopped again, lost in
the memory.

“
And?” the
judge prodded gently.

“
And a few days
later I heard that another kid had been found in the park the next
morning, murdered. And not just in that same park, which is bad
enough. They found his body in that exact same clump of bushes that
I'd been sleeping in. Do you get it, judge? That could have been me.
Crap, I think it was
supposed
to have been me. But it wasn't, thanks to that weird vibe. And now
I've got it again.”

“
I see.” The
judge finished his tea and set down his cup. “And is the
feeling exactly the same as it was then?”

“
No sir. It's much,
much worse.”

The sound of footsteps
caught Chris' attention and he watched through the open doorway as
several staff members hurried by. He thought he caught a glimpse of a
man wearing all black and wearing a white priest's collar mixed in
with the staffers. Then they were gone.

“
So what do you
think, Christopher?” the judge asked, breaking into his
thoughts. “Should we postpone this attempt, try for another
night instead?”

Chris stared at the judge.
Was the man actually asking him, a thirteen year old kid, to make a
decision that was this important? The judge's eyes were level and
somber as he watched Chris. Yes, he really was.

“
No sir. No, I don't
think so.” Chris groped for a reason. “I think...”
He ran his fingers through his hair and pushed it off of his face. “I
think that this is too important for that. We have to get Jake and Ty
back. I really believe that. And if Ghost is ready tonight, then we
do it tonight. If the bad guys really do learn that Sariel is here,
well, he's always said that it would happen eventually. It will just
happen a little sooner than he would have liked.” He shrugged.
“No big deal.”

The judge actually laughed
and Chris felt his mood lighten considerably.

“
No big deal,”
the judge repeated. “Thank you, my boy. I like your attitude.
But we both know that it is a big deal if they learn of Sariel's
presence before the sword is made whole again. However, you are
correct. We need those two young men back again. With the three
Angelics that were saved in Luxembourg, and Jacob and Tyler, we will
have ten angels and one archangel to fight on the side of light.”
He smiled a bit. “Almost an army. I think the eleven of you
could face almost anything the Fallen could throw at us. But let us
hope that that battle won't be fought for some time to come.”

He stood up and Chris
hastened to do the same.

“
Get some rest,
young man. I doubt that you will be able to sleep, but relax if you
can. Contact Sariel and bring him up to speed on what is happening,
if he doesn't know already. And meet us in the Infirmary at around
eleven-thirty.” He walked to the doorway with Chris in his
wake.

“
And bring the
sword,” the judge added before they separated.

The hours slid by slowly
as Chris sat in his room, trying to watch television.

He had called Sariel, who
was indeed aware of what was happening. He told Chris that he would
be ready when they called and had reaffirmed the judge's suggestion
that Chris bring the sword when the time came to head to the
Infirmary.

And so Chris sat, trying
not to look at his cell constantly to check the time. He surfed the
TV channels, trying to get into some show, anything to distract
himself from what was to come.

He managed to find a game
show that was so outrageous, people were wearing chicken costumes and
rolling eggs with their noses, that it caught his attention and he
forgot all about the evening ahead and lost himself in the total
nonsense on the TV.

That show was followed by
another, equally insane, and suddenly Chris' phone was ringing,
almost making him jump off of the sofa.

“
Hello?” he
said as he answered the cell.

“
Chris? It's
Natalie. Time to head to the Infirmary.”

He pulled back the phone
and stared at it in disbelief. Yup, eleven-thirty. Where had the time
gone?

“
Okay, Nat. I'm on
my way.”

He hung up, put his shoes
on and went to get the sword.

As he picked up the canvas
package, Chris again felt the power emanating from the weapon, even
through its wrappings. He did his best to ignore it, turned off the
lights and let himself out, locking the door behind him.

On the way down the stairs
to the first floor, Chris ran into Patrick and Francis. The two
friends greeted him with nervous grins.

Both glanced at the canvas
bundle under his arm, but neither asked what it was. Chris suspected
that the word had already spread among the other teens about Sariel's
sword.

“
You ready for this,
mate?” Patrick asked as they walked. Francis poked him and the
redhead looked at his friend in confusion.

“
What? It's a simple
question.”

Chris laughed, lightening
his mood a bit.

“
I guess I'll have
to be, won't I? Besides, Sariel's doing all the heavy lifting. I'm
just along for the ride.”

“
Yeah, aren't we
all?” Francis commented dryly.

When they reached the
waiting room of the Infirmary, the trio found that everyone else had
already arrived.

Anabelle and Alysa were
sitting side by side, talking earnestly under their breaths. Judge
Hawkes and Chef were standing next to the desk doing the same, while
Natalie stood alone, seemingly lost in thought. She smiled when Chris
walked in.

“
Hey you. You made
it. Did you fall asleep or what?”

“
Funny,” Chris
said to her with a reluctant grin. “No, I was watching this
crazy game show on TV. Guess I lost track of time.”

He pulled out his phone
and checked it. Eleven-forty-five.

Chris felt a cold stab of
fear in his stomach, and the sword tucked under his arm seemed to
quiver slightly.

“
You okay, mate?”
Patrick asked quietly. “You're white as a sheet.”

“
I'm fine,”
Chris replied untruthfully. Natalie was watching him with a knowing
eye.

“
Yeah, sure you
are.” She looked at the canvas bundle. “So how's that
sword feeling?”

“
Feeling? What do
you mean, feeling?” Chris asked, He wondered if she knew just
how the stupid thing was affecting him.

“
Oh, come on, Chris.
It's an object of power. A lot of power. Gloriel can feel it even
now, so she says.” Natalie looked at Patrick and Francis.
“Can't your angels feel it?”

Both teens got that blank
expression on their faces that Chris knew meant they were having an
internal discussion with their angelic selves. And both nodded at
almost the same time.

“
Yeah, they feel it.
Definitely,” Francis said. He glanced at the package nervously.
“And they're not all that sure about it either.”

“
What does that
mean?” Chris asked.

Before Francis could
answer, Judge Hawkes walked over to the little group.

“
It's time to get
ready, Christopher,” he said evenly. “We must be prepared
to proceed at exactly midnight, or the whole plan will fail. Follow
me please.”

The man turned and headed
down the hallway toward the room where Jacob and Tyler's bodies
rested. Chris hesitated, saw Natalie give him an encouraging smile
and began to follow the judge slowly. Somehow this whole thing didn't
feel right. At all.

The entire group followed
closely behind Chris and soon all eight of them were standing in the
ward staring at Jacob and Tyler. It struck Chris again how much they
looked like they were just sleeping, that a mere touch, the gentle
shake of a shoulder, would bring them around. But he knew that it
would take more than that; a lot more.

Judge Hawkes stood by
Tyler's bedside for a moment, looking bleakly at both teens. Then he
stepped back and waved Chris forward.

“
This is your time,
my friend,” he said. “We'll stay in the background while
you do your work.”

Chris wanted to protest
that it was Sariel's work, not his, that they were attempting
tonight, but his mouth was so dry that he couldn't form the words. He
walked forward past the judge and stood between the two beds.

Sariel, the time's
almost here. Are you ready?

I am, Chris. Bring out
the sword, please.

He
unwrapped the sword carefully, remembering how sharp the edges of the
blade were. He dropped the canvas sheet at his feet and looked at the
weapon.

There
were gasps and murmurs of awe behind him as everyone saw the blade.
Its glow was even more striking in the stark, white room,

“
Whoa,
mate. Now that's amazing,” he heard Patrick say. Anabelle
shushed him.

“
How
long, your honor?” Chris asked over his shoulder.

“
One
minute, my boy,” the judge answered softly.

Chris
nodded.

It's up to you now
.

Very well. I am taking
over,,,now.

Chris
felt the archangel emerging, that overwhelming presence and choking
sense of power.

His
sight-line began to move upward, and he knew his shoulders were
broadening, his muscles were growing, and two enormous gray wings
were appearing between his shoulder-blades.

When
the transformation was complete, Chris realized that his body was
even bigger than his last transformation. Over ten feet tall, at
least. And in his hand, the hilt with its blade broken halfway down
its length had grown with him.

“
Ah,
I feel it now,” Sariel said aloud, setting the empty glasses on
a bedside table tinkling musically. “The sword knows me again.
Its power has grown.” He looked down at those innocently blank,
pale faces. “Perhaps it will be enough.”

“
Sariel,
the moment is here,” Judge Hawkes said urgently. “If you
are going to do it, please do it now.”

“
Understood.”

Sariel
stepped back one long pace, until he could see both Jacob and Tyler
at the same time. He held the sword-hilt in both hands and flung back
his hair as he spoke in a ringing, resonating voice.

“
And
the Lord said:
I am the resurrection, and the life: he
that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And
whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Jacob. Tyler.
Your work is yet undone, my friends. Come back to us. Live among us
again and serve your God in this holy war.”

Sariel's right wing spread out with a
great sweeping motion, the curtains on the windows rustling. His
hanging left wing merely quivered. But Chris felt a rush of power
flow through him from elsewhere. It was immense and powerful and
terrifying. And it left him weeping quietly inside his own mind. He
was convinced that it had been the touch of God Himself.

There was a moment of absolute
stillness. Chris heard nothing but the rapid breathing of the seven
people behind him, while Sariel stared fixedly at the two bodies.

And then Tyler opened his eyes,
followed quickly by Jacob and they looked around blankly.

“Hey, what's going on?”
Tyler said thickly. He looked down at himself. “Why am I in
bed?”

“Chris? Is that you?” Jacob
stared at him with a frown. “What's with the sword, bud?”

Sariel had departed the moment that the
two boys had opened their eyes and Chris found himself standing with
the sword in both hands, looking in disbelief at his two friends.

He lowered the weapon and took a moment
to drink in the sight of his friends as they saw each other and burst
out laughing simultaneously. Then he cried out and rushed between the
beds to Jacob's side, sliding the sword carefully under the bed as he
did so.

“Hey Jake! How ya doing?”
And he grabbed Jacob in a bone-cracking hug.

“Mmf! Um, I'm fine. Or I will be
when you give me a chance to breathe,” Jacob replied with a
gasp.