Seraphim (25 page)

Actually, it reminded him a little too much of Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” album cover where the bespectacled entertainer was stepping into a picture and onto the road Dorothy and Toto allegedly traveled.

But most of all he was enraptured with those enormous feathered wings, jutting majestically from his back. Elton’s glittered pumps paled in comparison, he thought wryly.

He couldn’t move. It felt as if some kind of refrigerant had been injected into his neck, as the circulation there had grown cold, the iciness now exuding down his spine, tickling every follicle, erecting every hair as it coursed beneath the dermis.

He supposed he’d expected this one to arrive differently than the others; with some fanfare, maybe…noise makers, balloons, streamers, champagne on ice.

The courier continued to rap behind the glass, obviously eager to be rid of the weight of the little girl.

The seventh angel.

Tears welled in Eli’s eyes, and the next eight steps were the longest and most memorable he had ever taken.

17.

Melanie Sands opened her eyes. She was naked, stretched out on her left side. The cement beneath her was numbing in its coldness. Her shoulders ached, and she was incredibly thirsty.

As she pushed herself to her knees, she saw that she’d peed the floor. There was blood, too—

Something behind her retched like a cat.

She turned and, at the sight of the creature, instantly remembered her abduction from Mr. Altman’s front yard. The animal, apparently having roused itself awake by its own vulgar noises, regarded her with a part-startled, part-groggy expression.

Then it licked itself
down there
.

Gross.

It was obviously a boy creature because it had a pee-pee just like Jake, her beagle.

Then, just as Jake would have probably done, the creature leaned forward and sniffed the wet spot on the cement, then proceeded to her crotch.

“Shoo,” she said, her tone only a glimmer of what she’d intended.

The creature tipped its head, considered her for what seemed like forever, then looked down at its privates. And stared. Immodestly, perversely, carnally...

Just. Stared.

But what horrified Melanie was its smile, a thin, calculating, curling-at-the-edges Grinch-grin.

As she backed away, expecting the attack to come at any moment, the creature slowly lifted its head. Still grinning, it followed her with lustful eyes as she scooted along the cement floor.

She eventually backed herself against a joist, cleaving her bare back with its splintered edges. White sparkles of pain danced before her as her heels kept scuffing a retreat. She had no intentions of ever stopping, of ever taking her eyes off the monster. But as her heart settled with the slow realization that she was going to be left alone, at least for now, she relaxed a bit and began inspecting her surroundings more closely, always keeping the creature well within her peripheral range of vision.

The room was about the same size as her bedroom back home, except this one didn’t have any walls, just boards. And through these wood beams she could see the simple floor plan of the basement. Most of it, anyway. To her right was an adjoining room, unfinished as well, and in it was another animal, same kind as the one with her, squatting on a torn-up old mattress. She thought it looked hurt, had maybe been in a fight with a big dog or something. Surprisingly, she found herself feeling a bit sorry for it.

In front of her was another room, this one much larger. And way across on the opposite wall she could see what looked like church windows. She counted three, and got the impression there were more, but her view was blocked by the half-finished section of wall that ran lengthwise down the center of the basement. And on the far end wall, near the windows, she could see an open doorway accessing a wooden flight of stairs.

Stark and shadowy, the overall layout was largely incomplete. There did appear to be an enclosed room this side of, and closest to, the stairs. Maybe half the size of the room she was in. She thought she could see a thread of red light running along its upper edge where the facing wall and ceiling weren’t quite flush.

She then looked down at herself and began inspecting her shoulders, arms, chest…She had puncture wounds everywhere. One hole in her left chest was still bleeding badly.
They should be hurting like the dickens
, she thought. But they weren’t; just kinda throbbed.

She stared accusingly at her captor’s sharp talons, then glanced at the other creature in the next room, not feeling a bit sorry for it anymore.

Then she heard footsteps. Someone coming down the stairs.

Reflexively, she straightened against the joist, then began pushing against it, struggling again, hoping and praying she could burst through and fall back down the dream hole that was surely hovering above her nice, warm bed back home.

“My, my,” the man said as he entered the room. “Up from our nap?”

She pulled her knees to her chin. She’d seen those kinds of clothes before, the kind the man was wearing. He was a minister or something. But that didn’t make her feel any better. Maybe even worse.

There was a camera in his right hand.

The man stepped aside, then motioned for the creature to leave.

It snorted its disapproval, then hobbled indignantly through the doorway. It made its way over to one of the church windows, then— magically—jumped inside. And was gone.

She froze as the man knelt before her.

He stroked her hair. “The ones before you were exceptionally pretty. But I just might have to concede that you’re the prettiest of them all.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I guess they saved the best for last.”

She buried her face between her knees.

“Legs down, chin up,” he ordered. “I want all of that beautiful face.”

Knowing that her mind wouldn’t dare move them on its own, she pushed her knees down with her hands.

“What’s your name?” he said brusquely.

She didn’t answer.

“Vee haf vays of maykink you talk.”

“Melanie,” she whimpered.

“Melanie ...
what?
”

“Sands.”

He brought the camera to his face. “Well, Melanie Sands, I’m in something of a hurry, as I have to get back to the church. So, if you’ll just bear with me...”

The flashes were blinding.

She raised her arms to shield her eyes. Voice hitching, she said, “May I have my clothes back?”

“No can do,” he said. “But not to worry. I’ve got something that’s going to fit you
just right
.”

He began circling her, taking picture after picture after picture. Oddly, the electronic whirring noise made by the camera’s auto advance seemed to intensify her thirst.

“Sir, can I please have a glass of water?”

“Very thirsty, are you?”

“Real bad thirsty,” she said, trying so very hard not to cry.

He sat the camera gingerly on the floor. “How about some lemonade instead?”

Melanie nodded, her chin quivering.

“Alright then,” the man said as he began to unzip his pants. “One glass of lemonade coming right up.”

“Eli!” shouted a voice from the stairs, that of an old woman. She raised her cane and aimed it at the man like a rifle. “I’ll get her some water from the tap, so zip it up!”

He quickly obeyed the woman. “Haven’t I warned you about sneaking around, Mother?”

“The world ain’t yours yet,” she said. “Until then, this is my house. If you don’t like it, then go back to your cot at St. Patrick’s.”

Chuckling, he said, “Alright, get her some water then. And while you’re at it, bring me down a beer, will you?”

18.

As if he’d just emerged from an office filled with whining faxes and whirring printers, the sounds of his camera still haunted his ears. And his crotch. Those sounds were, without fail, the only things in this world that could give him an erection—whether he wanted one or not.

After having captured two rolls of black and white images of Melanie Sands, Eli hurried back to the church. The little girl remained in the custody of his deranged mother, who he instructed to begin preparations for the wings. He’d also dispatched two couriers: one to contact Gamble, as he urgently needed to speak with him, and another to search out and recapture the Bently girl.

Now he sat in the confessional, which was feeling exceptionally close today. Christ, it was hot. Five more minutes and he thought he just might smother to death.

Then footsteps.

Finally, the adjacent door opened and closed.

“You rang?” said Gamble.

Eli inhaled deeply. “I believe that Samuel Flannery is going to pursue his findings.”

“You’re referring to the sword imbroglio, I presume?”

“Yes.”

“You have to admit, Father, it’s damned clever. Oh sure, it’s amateurish, puerility at its most basic, yet still manages to deliver its message with discerning
savoir-faire.
Don’t you agree?”

“Um, yes, of course.”

Eli waited uncomfortably for Gamble to speak. Nearly a minute passed before he finally did.

“Very well,” Gamble said cheerily. “I’ll make sure that Flannery doesn’t become the town crier.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing it myself.”

“Nonsense! You have other things requiring your full and immediate attention. And let me just say how proud I am of you. Although congratulations aren’t quite in order just yet, you now have your seventh angel and window, padre! You’re almost there! You’re sliding into home base! Wow! I imagine that you’re extremely excited, yes?”

Eli managed a smile. “Excited is not quite the word I would use.”

Gamble let go with a charitable laugh. “Just don’t wet yourself prematurely, Father. Keep painting by the numbers and we’ll all come out well.”

“Melanie flies tomorrow.”

“Does she? Very well, then. But don’t forget about Katherine.”

“Oh, I haven’t,” he promised through clenched teeth. “I have another courier looking for her this very moment. That little cow’s going to rue the day she was born.”

Gamble pressed his face against the screen. “I think you meant to say
days
.”

“
Days
, yes, of course,” Eli said, rolling his eyes at Gamble’s affinity for the arcane. “Also, there’s one thing I’ve been…been meaning to ask you.” His hands were trembling in his lap.

“Yes?”

“It’s about Katherine Bently. You see, I can understand how...how she might have easily remained secluded from
me
these past years. But I was curious as to how she got past...
you
.”

The burgeoning silence began to liquefy and was soon a cold, drizzling dread saturating his skin, leaching the air from his lungs, numbing his soul like Novocain. Eli could not enlist so much as a wheeze to verify that Gamble had not already turned him into a bloating corpse. Or worse.

Gamble cleared his throat. “That’s a valid question, Father. In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t approach me about this earlier. Well, I imagine you were somewhat fainthearted to confront me with such a quiz. Am I right?”

“Y-yes.”

“Well, the truth of the matter is, I
did
know of Katherine’s whereabouts. Naturally, when she didn’t show up after her nasty fall, I went looking for her. I eventually found her, but in a place, shall we say, that was not graciously accessible to me. So, I just left her alone, knowing that she’d rear her ugly head eventually.”

“So, may I be...absolved from any negligence regarding the little bitch?”

“Exculpated, vindicated, exonerated—why, Father, consider yourself pardoned.”

“Thank you,” Eli said, near tears.

“You’re welcome. But if you don’t catch and keep her this time, I’ll personally handpick the bacteria necessary to ensure that the excruciating ingestion of your flesh not only endure eternity, but also its successors.”

“Of course,” Eli whispered.

19.

After his meeting with Gamble, Eli hurried back to his mother’s house.

He stood once again before the seventh window, enraptured.

Knowing that he shouldn’t, but unable to resist the urge any longer, he pushed his hand through the window. Instantly, he was passing through stratums of time, his fingers resonating across the layers as if he were strumming the cords of a vast celestial harp. Pushing onward, his groping fingers began to feel planets revolving around alien suns, galaxies teeming with life, infant universes growing on the frontiers of creation, suckling from the pulsing lifeblood of that which is eternal.

The mobiles of gods.

The tactility he was experiencing was not suggestive in any way. He was actually feeling these things on so literate a scale as to be acutely unimaginable; touching not with the fingers of his hand, but with the phalanges of something so powerful, so omnipotent, that the light of creation would be snuffed with one little pinch should the decision be made to do so.

Oh, how superbly grand!

He smiled triumphantly. He would be ruler of these realms once Gamble released him.

He withdrew his arm, which he’d submerged up to his elbow, and studied it. Although it looked no different, it felt bewitched with a sensation of denseness and hollowness at the same time; here and not here.

Grand, yet humble.

Within seconds, however, the arm felt like its old self.

Eli was intoxicated.

The fruition of his many years of hard work was about to be fully realized.

20.

As Rachel and Duncan left the room, having just tucked her in, Kathy said, “Thanks for letting Juanita come with us.” She sat up suddenly in bed. “I mean, you did tell her she’s coming, right?”

“Of course we did,” Rachel said.

Duncan scowled. “I had to give her my window seat. She started blubbering about having never flown before, wants to ‘see
thee
world from a
beeg
height,’ so...”

“See,” Kathy said. “Amy didn’t believe me when I told her that you really
liked
Juanita.”