Fallen

Chapter 2(edited 4/8/19)

Sam's Shack wasn't fancy. You wouldn't find it on anybody's list of five star restaurants, or anywhere on a list of tourist eateries. Still, I didn't go to the place for its ambiance or for its novelty. I went there because Sam knew his stuff better than anyone else in the city, and his stuff was sandwiches and beer, the two things that I so loved about the modern age. Well, those and rock music. Justin Bieber could go suck it. Give me some Def Leppard any day over that techno dance bullshit that these idiots peddled as music.

"Hey, Sam," I said, taking a seat under the awning that hung over a row of stools outside of Sam's stall. There was room for a dozen people around the former ticket counter, but I was the only one there. "Give me the usual."

"Coming right up," Sam replied, setting to his magic. Sam was a simple man. He was sturdily built, his arms thick and shoulders broad. His hair was dark and streaked with gray, but he still looked younger than his forty five years. His hands moved with practiced ease as he began grilling sliced steak and cheese together with onions and peppers for my sandwich. Not taking his eyes off his work, he struck up a conversation. "How's life?"

"A bitch," I replied, tapping my fingers on the weathered bench, tracing one of the symbols that had been carved artistically into the surface. Sam was one of the few people alive who knew what I was and what I did, and it didn't bother him. As long as my money was good and I didn't cause any trouble, he was perfectly fine with me. "Same as it's been since the beginning of time."

"I hear ya," Sam said with a chuckle. "Anything going on that I need to be concerned about?"

"Not really," I said. "Just business as usual. The city has been pretty quiet lately, for both sides."

"Isn't that a little strange," Sam asked, constructing my sandwich and putting on the final touches. "I thought there was always some chatter buzzing around out there about something."

"Usually," I replied, sniffing the savory aroma floating along on the air. I'm not ashamed to admit that my mouth had started to water. "But things have gotten quiet before. It's nothing to be worried about."

"I can tell when you're lying," Sam asked, pulling a cold beer out of the ice behind him and placing it and my food in front of me. I pulled  a ten dollar bill from the pocket of my dark leather jacket and pushed it his way.

"Don't tell anyone your secret. You'll ruin my reputation."

"Mmhm," Sam grunted with a raised eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. I picked up my sandwich and took that heavenly first bite. Oh man, only if I could save that feeling and pull it out at any moment. Life wouldn't suck so much. I chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before continuing. "I'm not exactly in the loop. I'm just enjoying the quiet."

"Why do I get the feeling that quiet should be scarier than you're letting on?" Sam asked, pushing. Ugh, I liked Sam, but he could be pretty inquisitive when he really wanted to be. One of the curses of being able to see too much I supposed.

"I don't know, Sam," I said, knowing that it wasn't the comforting sentence that Sam had been hoping for. "The last time everything suddenly went silent like this was before your lifetime. I won't go into details, but an important artifact turned up and got into some weird Austrian artist's hands and all hell broke loose. Still, it all died down after a decade or so."

"That's a little longer for me than it is for you," Sam replied dryly. I chuckled and sipped my beer fondly.

"Eh, don't worry about it," I said, waving off his worry. "All the major stuff is accounted for as far as I know, and what isn't accounted for wouldn't cause something like that. You've got nothing to worry about."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," said another familiar voice from behind me. I didn't turn. The owner of that voice came up and sat beside me. "Sam."

"Father," Sam replied with a reverent nod. "You want a beer?"

"Would love one," the  young priest said warmly. Sam popped the top off another bottle and slid it to the father. He took a drink and sighed contently. I decided to bite.

"What's up, Nathan?" I asked tiredly. The young, blonde haired priest winked one blue eye at me and took another drink. "Are you really gonna make me drag it out of you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," the priest smiled. "I just thought you'd like another second to enjoy your dinner."

"I would, but we both know I won't be able to now" I replied in frustration, brushing a few strands of my too long white and black hair away from my face.   "So come out and say your piece so we can get this shit-storm started."

"Such profanity in front of a priest," Nathan joked, taking another sip from the bottle.

"Don't start. Out with it."

"Fine," Nathan answered, pulling something from the breast pocket of his habits.  It was something made of an odd paper that could only come from so many sources. He unfolded the paper and smoothed it out on the counter. Sam leaned in with a puzzled expression.

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked, looking up at me. I grabbed my own beer and drank deeply before answering him.

"Yeah, it's Enochian," I replied grimly, quickly reading the note and scratching the rough stubble on my chin. "And it's the angelic dialect. Should I even ask where you got this?"

"A messenger came with it today," the priest answered. "Apparently it's big enough for them to go out and recruit anyone they can. Even you."

"Please," I replied while rolling my eyes. Here was life being a bitch yet again.  "They don't need an excuse to ask me for anything. They just assume I'll do it without them having to ask."

"But if they are officially asking for your help, then we both know it's something important," Nathan said grimly. "I know you read the message. It is a general call to action, true, but this one specifically mentions that I should seek you out."

"Yeah, it does," I agreed, wiping my mouth with a napkin. "I guess that's my cue. The sandwich was great, Sam. I wish I could stick around to finish it."

"I understand. Duty calls," Sam replied, taking the food he'd so perfectly prepared and stuffing it in a paper bag. He offered the bag to me. I took it gratefully and turned to Nathan.

"Ready to go?" I asked the priest. Nathan nodded and we both stood, almost even in the averageness of our height.  I grabbed him by the shoulder and looked around to make sure nobody was looking. I snapped my fingers and Sam's Shack disappeared. In its place was the interior of a church, pews lined up in neat isles before a huge depiction of a crucified Christ. Tapestries of the saints hung from the walls in majestic purple and the light of thousands of candles flickered around the huge room. There wasn't a soul around, except for one woman knelt before the altar reverently. To a regular onlooker, she would have looked just like another parishioner offering up a prayer to the Almighty. That wasn't the case for either Nathan or I. We could see the shimmering light that surrounded her. When she stood, she flexed her shoulders and flashed off her bright white wings which she then folded up and allowed to disappear. She'd just wanted to rub my face in it. The woman turned around,  gazing at us with stormy gray eyes so similar to mine and an empty smile. 

"Hello, Gavin," the angel said familiarly. "It's been a long time."