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Chapter 11
"No, you're not going anywhere!" Saul held fast onto the arm. "You're not taking her from me."
"She's not yours to have. You've let her down. I won't." The darker angel tried to wrench his arm away, but couldn't; Saul held on, like a dog finding its first ever bone.
"At least let me know where you're taking her! I have to know that she's alright!" The angel paused, eyeing Saul warily. "Maybe I can visit her? You wouldn't deny me that would you? I do love her…you wouldn't…?"
"Your begging is pathetic," spat the angel.
"Imagine if it was you!"
"It could never be me! You're weak, and you haven't got the guts to do what's right, have you? I've never hesitated. I did what I had to for Nathalie, I didn't cry and panic like you do. You make me sick."
Saul was shoved away violently; he staggered back and smashed into the tank which had contained Nathalie, knocking it over and slipping in the thick liquid which puddled on the floor. He jumped to his feet, just in time to see his companion becoming hazy and blurred. With a roar, he leapt onto the angel's back, and the two disappeared from view.
****
Moments later, Angelus came crashing into the room, closely followed by the two security angels.
The room was eerily quiet. Saul, the angel and the soul were all gone and the room was filled with broken glass and a thick brown liquid slicked the floor.
"SHIT!!!"
Cursing Jake under her breath, Angelus yanked her mobile phone from her pocket and flipped open the handset. Taking a few deep breaths to try and still her shaking fingers, she switched the phone on, unlocked the keypad and then punched in a few digits. The tiny screen on the phone lit up. She punched in another string of digits, foot tapping anxiously whist she waited for the data to bounce up onto the screen.
"Got you." She looked visibly relieved as the information appeared in tiny print. She pressed the keypad again, and made a call. "Hi, it's me."
"ANGELUS?"
"I need a trace on these co-ordinates…"
****
Saul dragged himself off the angel, hauled his companion to his feet and held onto him with as firm a grasp as he could manage with hands that were shaking with fear.
"This is where you're keeping them, isn't it?" He stared around at the dusty room, shocked by the state of disrepair he saw around him. He shook the angel. "Isn't it?"
He was caught off guard by the right hook; he fell and landed heavily on his side and was momentarily winded as pain shot through his ribcage. His attacker skittered away, tripping over boxes and furniture in the darkness as he bolted into an adjoining room.
Holding his jaw, he got to his feet, and ran after him, arriving in time to see the angel struggling to drag a heavy chest from underneath a table. Saul launched himself onto the dust smeared back of the angel, and kicked down hard as he landed. He followed up with a few indiscriminate punches, knocking his companion off his feet.
Saul clambered onto the angel's chest, and proceeded to search through pockets, looking for the two souls he knew were there.
A knee between the legs stopped him abruptly. Howling as pain lanced through his groin, he rolled off and was himself pinned to the scruffy, threadbare carpet by the angel.
"You're not having them!" Wild eyes pierced his, and it felt like jets of hate were being poured into his head. Before he knew it, he was grasped by the ears and his head repeatedly pounded onto the floor. He cried out in agony as the thudding in his head magnified.
The angel stood, kicked the stunned Saul aside and continued to drag the heavy wooden box out from under the kitchen table. He opened the lid, and placed Nathalie carefully inside. "Voila, cherie. You're home again now."
To Saul's dazed eyes, the soul seemed to lose some of its stunning vibrancy. "She doesn't want to be here," he gasped, staggering to his knees.
"I know what's best for her," replied the angel without even turning around.
Saul clasped his hands together, drove them down viciously onto the back of the angel's head, and then hauled him to his feet. "You're coming with me. I'm taking them all back." Surprisingly, his companion laughed, and then followed up with another punch to Saul's stomach. Saul faltered, but kept his grip on his attacker's jacket sleeve as the two fought.
"You fool!" screamed the angel, "You don't know what you're doing!"
"I'm saving them!" Saul shrieked back. "It's the only thing I can do for them!"
"Saving them?" The irate brown eyes glared into Saul's. "You are condemning them to death after death. So much for your caring…well, why don't we just get it over with?" With a sudden tug, his arm was freed. In his clenched fist, Saul could see the cobalt shimmering of Judy's soul.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to kill her! You say that souls can die - well, let's see, shall we?" He raised his fist, and gripped his fingers tighter. "You say you want to save her, but you won't let me help. This is the only way!"
"No!" Saul grabbed for the hand, but was knocked back by a shove from a bony shoulder. He could see the cerulean surface of the soul dimpling where the thin fingers of the angel were pressing hard into it. "I won't let you kill her!"
"How can you stop me? Kill me?" laughed the angel, his voice dripping with contempt. "You can't kill me…you can't kill me - I'm an Angel of Death!"
"True," came a new voice from behind. The angel paused, momentarily startled. "But I can."
"Who are you?" he asked, craning his head around but seeing only a shadow in his peripheral vision.
"I'm THE Angel of Death."
His neck was gripped, and the soul of Judy Foster plucked from his suddenly nerveless fingers. He screamed his protest, an agonising, piercing sound that scorched through Saul's head. The young angel stood frozen against the wall, mesmerised by the grim expression on Angelus' face as she held the twisting, squirming being.
"Surrender, while you still can," she commanded.
"You can't stop me! I'm doing the right thing…I'm doing God's work!" He turned to face the newcomer, his face twisting with righteous anger at the thwarting of his plans. "Don't you understand that?"
"Don't make me do this…" Saul was shocked to hear a faint pleading note creep into Angelus' voice.
"You can't stop me…I'm chosen!! Nathalie said so…" With a final wrench, he was free and lunged towards his former captor and the soul she still held in her hand.
Saul watched in amazement as Angelus' expression turned cold and her eyes grew flinty, sending shivers down his spine. She raised her arm quickly and grabbed him. It seemed to Saul like it all happened in slow motion - one moment, the angel had lunged at Angelus with his mouth open, screaming prayers and epithets at her, and the next he lay slumped on the floor, his eyes staring glassily ahead and spittle drying on his pale lips.
Angelus just stared impassively down at the dead angel at her feet.
"How…how…?" stuttered Saul, slowly starting to unfreeze. He couldn't drag his eyes from the grotesque tableau at his feet.
Angelus flicked a weary glance at him. "Never mind. It's over now."
"You killed him…?"
"It's over."
****
Epilogue
She lay slumped over her kitchen table. Stretching out an arm, she plucked another chocolate digestive off the plate in front of her and then indulged in her latest human joy - dunking it into a steaming cup of tea.
She licked her fingers free of melted chocolate, and then did it again, noting with a careful eye that the formerly heaped plate was now just a mass of crumbs and slivers of leftover chocolate.
"Damn, I think that's my last packet, too."
"WELL NOT TO WORRY, YOU CAN ALWAYS LICK THE PLATE." Robbie Williams was rudely interrupted on the radio. She sighed. "HONESTLY ANGELUS, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THE GYM MEMBERSHIP IS COSTING ME?"
She shrugged, slid the empty plate towards her and began picking up the chocolate crumbs.
"OH DEAR."
"Did you want something?"
"ONLY TO TELL YOU THAT THE SOULS YOU RESCUED ARE ALL COMING ALONG NICELY. WE'VE LEARNED SOME VERY VALUABLE LESSONS FROM THIS… INCIDENT. APART FROM ANYTHING ELSE, WE REALLY NEED TO HAVE A CLOSE LOOK AT OUR INVENTORY AND ACCOUNTING PROCEDURES. THANK YOU."
She grunted in response. "So did Saul decide what he wanted to do yet?"
"YES, HE DECIDED TO GIVE THE HOMICIDE SQUAD ANOTHER SHOT. YOUR RECOMMENDATION SHOULD PUT HIM BACK IN THE DIVISION'S GOOD BOOKS AGAIN."
She nodded. "He's a good kid. He just needs to decide what he wants to do."
"EXACTLY. AS DO YOU."
"Are you cancelling my leave?"
"NO, NO." There was a moment of silence, and Angelus felt a definite…hesitation…in the air. "HOWEVER, I DO THINK THAT… UMMM… YOU HAVE CERTAIN… HOW SHALL I SAY? UNRESOLVED ISSUES THAT YOU NEED TO WORK THROUGH…"
"What the hell are you talking about? I don't have unresolved issues…"
"YOU HAVE A CUPBOARD FULL OF MARS BARS, AND YOU'VE PUT ON AT LEAST A STONE IN WEIGHT OVER THE LAST WEEK. I'D SAY THERE'S SOMETHING GOING ON THERE."
"Oh, please!" Angelus spluttered. "So I like eating… and it's my… y'know… time of the month thing…"
"YOU DON'T HAVE A TIME OF THE MONTH, ANGELUS. I SPARED YOU THAT. I'M WORRIED ABOUT YOU. I WANT YOU TO SEE SOMEONE…"
A slip of paper materialised from thin air, floated gracefully down and landed face upwards on the plate. She picked it up. It read; 'Dr. Ruth Westheimer, MD. 52 Landerson Avenue, London SW12.'
"What… you want me to see a bloody shrink??" she squealed, her voice rising in indignation.
"SHE'S NOT A SHRINK. SHE'S A COUNSELLOR," came the somewhat defensive reply.
"A fucking SHRINK?? What the hell am I supposed to tell her? 'Hello, Doctor - I'm the angel of death…?'"
"SHE'S VERY GOOD."
"How the hell would you know?"
"WELL…" Again there was a short and very pregnant pause. "LOOK, YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO FINDS IT ALL A BIT MUCH SOMETIMES!"
Angelus could feel her mouth gaping, but seemed powerless to close it. The Almighty's been to a...? "Bloody hell…"
"YES, OKAY… LET'S NOT MAKE A BIG DEAL OUT OF IT. SHE'S EXPECTING YOU AT 2.00PM TOMORROW. WILL YOU GO? PLEASE?"
She sighed, stared at the empty plate and sighed again. "Yeah, I guess… it can't hurt, can it?"
"EXCELLENT! NOW LISTEN TO ME, WHATEVER YOU DON'T EAT ANY MORE CHOCOLATE."
"Aw! But it's the only pleasure I get now!"
"NONSENSE. ANYWAY, YOU'LL NEVER FIT INTO THIS IF YOU DON'T STOP NOW."
A white plastic carrier bag appeared in front of her. "What is it?" she asked, but got no response save an eager GRUNT. She slid it over and emptied it onto the table. Velvety blackness pooled onto the table top; she reached out and ran the material through her hands, savouring the fuzzy sheerness of it. "It's beautiful. Thank you. But what's it for?"
"EVERY WOMAN NEEDS A LITTLE BLACK DRESS. IT'S FOR YOUR DATE TONIGHT."
"But I don't have a date…"
"YOU DO NOW. JAKE WILL BE PICKING YOU UP AT EIGHT. ENJOY YOURSELF ANGELUS. AND DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE KISSING THING THIS TIME… I'LL TAKE CARE OF IT."
"Really?" She grabbed up the dress eagerly. "I can kiss him?" She felt the air around her nod. "If it's okay to kiss him, is it okay to…?"
"NO! BLOODY HELL WOMAN…!"
*****
Saul picked up his assignment slip and filed it away with the others. He was working three months ahead, now that he was a fully fledged member of the squad. He didn't know how he'd managed it, but passing his probation had been a breeze once all the… other business was over. He'd asked no questions; he'd just buckled down and got on with it. He rifled through the file, picked out his assignments for the day and marked them in his diary, then gathered together the ones that had come through the post that morning.
Reading through them quickly, he put all but one away.
Moments later, he was at the bedside of Dmitri Kouriakinos, a young property owner who was slowly and systematically being poisoned by his ambitious and - as it happened - unfaithful wife. 34 years old, and handsome in the dark, Mediterranean way, Dmitri was rapidly losing his health and his spirit as the corrosion inside him took hold and sapped his strength. Saul knew that he had another two months of suffering, where he would gradually lose control over all bodily functions as his muscles grew weaker, leaving him further at the mercy of his wife.
Dmitri had soiled himself for the first time today, and Saul had seen despair, shame and hopelessness in his hollowed eyes as he'd watched Dmitri's wife berate him. She didn't, however, clean him. He'd begged at least for the services of a nurse, and she'd refused, telling him they couldn't afford one and anyway - wasn't that her duty? As his loving wife?
Saul knew that it would get much worse for Dmitri over the coming months.
He moved closer to the prone man in the bed, seeing how the sallow skin sagged as the cheeks started to lose their plumpness. "I'm so sorry, Dmitri," he said, feeling utterly helpless.
Dmitri's green eyes slowly opened, and stared glassily ahead at the white plastered wall of his bedroom.
"You know what's happening to you, don't you?" mused Saul. Dmitri's eyes sank wearily shut again. "Another two months of this… what will that do to you? All your dignity, all your spirit - killed slowly and inexorably. Something like that… it must leave a mark on your soul."
He stood, listening to the slow breathing that echoed around the small room.
"And all for what? To be reborn - and have to do it all… over… again. Is it worth it?" He touched Dmitri's forehead gently, feeling the clamminess of his skin. "Is it really worth it?"
'They're catalogued, stored and reallocated, and then thrown out to do it all again. There is no respite, no rest. Lifetimes upon lifetimes of struggle, and hurt'
The angel's voice purred in Saul's ear, it buzzed through his cranium like a fly trapped inside his mind. He shook his head, but the voice chattered on…
You can save him…sometimes, that's all we can do…end the torment. An eternity of suffering…and pain…is that what you want for him?
Saul's hand stretched out towards Dmitri's chest.
You can help him…you can save him…
*****
The end.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 - conclusion
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