The Fallen

He yanked on the collar of his sweater, pulling it down over his right shoulder to expose unusually pale flesh—and something more. A strange, fleshy protrusion, about six inches long, jutted from the old man’s shoulder blade. It was covered in what appeared to be a fine coat of white hairs—no, on closer examination it wasn’t hair at all—it was covered in downy, white feathers. Aaron jumped back as the protrusion began to move up and down in a flapping motion. Something similar on the other shoulder moved in unison beneath the sweater.

“What the hell is it?” Aaron asked, both fascinated and disgusted by the wagging, vestigial appendage.

“It’s all I’ve got left of them,” Zeke said softly, an almost palpable sadness emanating from him in waves. “It’s all that’s left of my wings.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Y’know what, I’ve had enough,” Aaron said as he threw up his hands and backed away from Zeke. “I’m done.”

He felt as though he were falling farther and farther into the depths of insanity, only with Zeke’s addition, he had a buddy for the trip. Even the voice of reason inside his head was begi

Aaron called again for his dog. “C’mon, Gabriel,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go for a ride.”

He continued to walk away from the crazy old man, and his equally crazy delusions.

“Aaron, please,” Zeke pleaded. “I have more to tell you—to show you. Aaron?”

He didn’t turn around. He couldn’t allow himself to be ensnared in this madness. Yes, Zeke was pretty convincing and knew all the right buttons to push, but angels? It was just too much for Aaron to swallow. Space aliens, maybe—angels, not a chance. He would see Dr. Jonas later today and then set up an appointment with the doctor’s friend at Mass General. Between the two of them, a rational explanation for his condition—could it actually be called a condition? he wondered—a rational explanation for his current situation would be found. At this stage of the game a tumor might not even be so bad. At least it was some kind of concrete explanation that he could accept, understand, and deal with.

Angels. Absolutely friggin’ ridiculous.

Aaron looked down to see if Gabriel still had his ball. It was the Lab’s favorite toy, and Aaron could see himself here at ten o’clock tonight with a flashlight searching for it.

The dog wasn’t with him.

He looked around the common. Had the dog become distracted, as he so often did, by a squirrel or a bird or an interesting smell in the grass?

Aaron caught sight of him on the other side of the common where a section of the pipe fence was missing. The dog was standing with Zeke. He took a few steps toward them and wondered how they could have gotten way over there so fast.

“Hey, Gabriel,” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice. “C’mon, pup, let’s go for a ride.”

The dog didn’t pay him the least bit of attention. He was standing attentively alongside Zeke, staring up at the man with his tail wagging. An uncomfortable feeling began somewhere in the pit of Aaron’s stomach. He’d felt like this in the past, usually right before something bad happened. He remembered a time not too long ago when he had experienced a similar feeling and discovered that Stevie had turned on the hot water in the bathtub when nobody was looking. If he hadn’t searched out the source of his uneasiness, the child would surely have scalded himself badly. Aaron felt kind of like he did then—only worse.

Aaron began walking toward them. “Gabriel, come here,” he said in his sternest voice. “Come.”

The dog glanced his way briefly but was distracted as the old man held up the ball for Gabriel to see. Zeke looked in Aaron’s direction, ball held aloft.

The awful feeling squirming in his gut got worse and Aaron began to jog toward them—and then to run.

Zeke looked toward the street outside the common, checking it out as if getting ready to cross. It was getting later in the morning and the traffic had begun to pick up. Zeke again showed the ball to Gabriel and Aaron could see the dog’s posture tense in anticipation.

“Hey!” Aaron yelled, his voice cracking. He was almost there, no farther than twenty feet away.

The old man looked into the traffic and then to Aaron. “I’m sorry,” Zeke said, raising his voice.

Panic gripped him and Aaron began to run faster. “Gabriel!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “Gabriel, look at me!”

The dog paid him no mind, his dark eyes mesmerized by the power of the ball. Aaron was almost there.

“There’s no other way,” he heard the old man say as he again studied the flow of oncoming traffic—and threw the ball into the street.

Aaron saw it as though watching a slow-motion scene in a movie. The te

They were the most sickening sounds Aaron had ever heard, brakes screeching as tires fought for purchase on Tarmac, followed by the dull thud of a thick rubber bumper co

“Oh my God—no!” Aaron screamed as he ran to his pet.

He fell to his knees beside the animal. There’s so much blood, he thought. It stained the Lab’s beautiful yellow coat and oozed from the corners of his mouth. It had even begun to seep out along the ground from somewhere beneath his body.

Aaron carefully wrapped his arms around his best friend. “Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,” he cried as he pressed his face to the dog’s side.

He placed an ear against the still-warm fur and listened for a heartbeat. But the sounds of horns from backed-up traffic and the murmur from curious bystanders was all he could discern.

“Will you shut up!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, lifting his head from the dog’s side.

Gabriel shuddered violently. He’s still alive. Tears of joy streamed from Aaron’s eyes as he bent down to whisper in his friend’s ear. “Don’t you worry, boy, I’m here. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Aaron?” Gabriel asked, his voice a weak whimper.

“Shhhhh, you be quiet now,” he told the dog in a calming tone. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be all right.”

He stroked the dog’s blood-stained fur, not sure if he believed what he was saying. He wanted to fall apart, to scream, rant, and rave, but knew that he had to keep control. He had to save Gabriel.

“Aaron…Aaron, hurt bad,” Gabriel croaked, and began to spasm as frothy pink blood bubbled from his mouth.

“Hang on, pal, hang on, boy. I’m going to help you.”

Aaron tried to pick him up, and Gabriel let out a heartrending shriek so filled with pain that it affected him like a physical blow.

“What do I do?” he asked aloud, panic begi

The thought of praying strayed into his head, and he was considering doing just that when he realized that he wasn’t even sure how.

“If you want Gabriel to live, you must listen to me,” said a voice from behind.