Afterlife BoxSet Page 3

  Turning a little to the side, I start to reprimand myself. I have to work on my skills and learn how to focus better. I’ve just made my first mission much harder. Now I’ve to be especially careful that no one notices me following Joya. The mothers would certainly be watching me closely.

  I watch through my peripheral vision as they start to fold into the crowd. Having to face in another direction is proving difficult to keep a good eye on them, especially now that they’re starting to move among many people. I’m considering turning invisible again when I hear someone calling.

  “Joya! Joya!” It’s young Sadia calling. She sounds lost.

  Maybe Sadia has been separated from the small group. I know that she’s not the one I’m sent to protect, but I’m not about to let Joya’s friend come under danger. I turn, stepping closer to where I’d seen them not long before. I search the crowd for the group. Finally, my eyes fall on Sadia, beside her are the two mothers. She’s safe. I see Joya’s mother turn to see why Sadia is calling. After spotting Sadia, her eyes start to search for her daughter. Panic crosses her face.

  She calls, “Joya! Joya!”

  Trepidation begins to rise. She must be here somewhere. I search the crowd, scanning face upon face with each additional one becoming a blur, but still no Joya.

  I begin to move around to search, and the large crowd hinders me. It’s too thick. I can hear the mothers and Sadia still calling out as I press farther away, searching, but there’s no response. I’m starting to panic. Where’s she gone? I can’t lose her. She’s only a little girl and my first mission.

  I call out, “Joya! Joya!” My concerns over being noticed vanish as I call louder. “Joya!”

  All that I receive for my effort is stares from strangers. I continue to search frantically. Finding an alley, I stop on the corner. Searching this way isn’t working. Leaning against the cold brick wall, I breathe deeply, trying to think. I still feel panic, but it subsides a little, so my breathing becomes more normal. My eyes start to clear, and my body calms. Something twinges from my core. A warm glowing sensation starts to build. Curious, I continue to breathe deeply, feeling the warmth grow. When it consumes my entire midsection, I feel the urge to walk farther down the alley. I follow the sensation. I don’t know where I am, but I don’t care. Following the pull, I pass a couple walking hand in hand, lost in their personal world.

  I stop them. “Excuse me.”

  They look at me, alarmed that a stranger would approach them. Ignoring this, I continue, “Have you seen a little girl pass this way?”

  The man looks to be in his twenties. He’s freshly shaven and wearing strong cologne that makes my eyes water. Clearly he’s trying to impress his lady. Doing my best to hide my reaction, I look farther up the alley, then back at the couple.

  The young lady is shaking her head, and the man answers in a strong English accent. “We haven’t been here very long and haven’t seen anyone else but you.”

  Not wanting to waste any time, I mutter, “Thanks.” But the warmth is still pulling me down the alley. I continue. I don’t know where the warmth comes from—perhaps it’s from the glowing bean that Archangel Michael gave us before our mission. Perhaps, just perhaps, it’s Joya’s life essence—a connection to her that helps us find our Innocent if we become separated. I’m going to go with this hunch; it makes sense.

  I rush farther down the alley. I can no longer hear the desperate cries of Sadia and the mothers, but if my hunch is correct, they’re still calling. A chilly breeze whips past me. I look at the bit of sky I can see through the gap between the buildings. The day has turned overcast. How fitting, it’s just like my mood.

  Suddenly, I feel the urge to stop and find myself looking at a weathered door with peeling paint. I reach for the knob and am surprised when it turns. As I push the door open, the hinges squeak. I grit my teeth and hope that the sound didn’t alert anyone. Afraid, I remind myself I’m no longer human, and I press forward.

  I close the door behind me, and surprisingly, it doesn’t squeak. I search the entrance. Strips of wallpaper fold toward the floor. Underneath are exposed patches of the original plasterboard. Mold is growing on the wallpaper strips and the wall. To the left is a tight corridor leading to a dingy kitchen in the back. A stale stench hits my nose. Unwashed dishes are piled on the bench. Before the kitchen, doors veer off to the side. They don’t look to be in any better condition than the one at the entrance.

  To the right of the entrance is a staircase. Torn carpet with pulls hanging over the stair lips attempt to cover the wooden steps. At the top, the protective railing is coming loose and falling to the floor, leaving the edge of the next level exposed to the danger of the ledge.

  I hear a creaking sound from the level above. I work my way across the entrance, glad that it had remnants of carpet buffing any sound from my heels. I progress up the stairs, trying to step where the nails are secured to avoid making noise. When I’m near the top, a light cough and sniffle sound from the room on the far left. The door is slightly ajar, so I creep up to it and peek through the gap. I hold my breath.

  I see Joya sitting on the dirty, carpeted floor. Her beautiful, dark-olive face is streaked with tears, and puffy red walls surround her eyes. She looks confused and scared, but for a six-year-old, she’s handling the situation well, although I think the full reality of being abducted hasn’t set in.

  Next to her, I see movement. I push the door open the slightest bit, praying for no creaks. I exhale. No creaks, but then I hold my breath again. Sitting beside Joya is another little girl about the same age. This little girl is very pale skinned. Her light, pink dress is dirty, and her curly blonde hair falls matted to her shoulders. Smudges of dirt cover her cheeks, with lines running directly from her eyes along the inside of her cheeks to her jaw. The two girls are holding hands. They know they’re in this together whether they like it or not.

  Inside of me, the anger is welling. Emotions are something I haven’t mastered even though I’m an angel. I’m supposed to be objective and follow the rules to protect the Innocents. My anger begins to boil. I shrug. I guess I’ve a lot to learn. As I barge into the room, I’m no longer worried about being quiet. The two girls glance up in shock.

  Standing in the middle of the room, I take in the surroundings. Near the two girls is a mattress against the wall. It is dirty and sagging in the middle. There are no clean sheets or blankets. In fact, there are no sheets or items of warmth. Above the mattress is an uncovered window. It’s closed but has no curtains or blinds to keep out the cold. I turn to the right in time to see a man stand up. He’s alarmed but plasters a sneer on his face. He looks me up and down. I want to be sick.

  “Hello, gorgeous!” He smiles and shows his astonishingly clean, straight teeth.

  He wears new blue jeans and a black leather jacket. He appears to be in his late twenties and doesn’t look poor like this house. In truth, if I saw him on the street, he’d look like a semidecent person. It pains me to think this way, knowing what he’s done. I’m confused.

  He steps toward me, still wearing that horrid smile. The girls scurry backward near the mattress under the closed window. The man continues my way. I can see on his face that he thinks he can dominate me.

  Turning to face him, with my feet firmly placed, I ask, “What’re you doing with these girls?” Anger is still churning inside of me. The closer he gets to me, the more it rises.

  He clicks his tongue away from the top of his mouth and scoffs. “Oh, darling. You don’t need to worry your pretty face over them. They’re my nieces.”

  I can’t believe he’s trying to charm me. Yeah, right! Like that’s going to work. I know he’s lying. This guy is getting on my nerves. I step forward and say, “Of course they are—the family resemblance is so strong.” I shake my head and screw up my face. “Seeing we’re telling the truth, let me tell you my truth.” I slowly take another step. “I’ve been sent by Archangel Michael to protect this little girl.” I point at Joya. “The ang
els foretold that she’d become exposed to evil.”

  He looks at me like I’m crazy. To be honest, I don’t blame him, but that was my tactic. I step closer. His eyes start to hold some uncertainty.

  He laughs, and it sounds a little nervous. “So, sweetheart, you’re telling me that you’re an angel?”

  I nod.

  He slaps his thigh and chokes out a laugh. “Well, would you look at that? You really fill in the cliché of looking like an angel. You may be a little nutty, though. Don’t worry, I like them a little on the crazy side.” He winks at me.

  Grr! He’s giving me the creeps. I step even closer and smile sweetly. “Wow, so quick to believe me. I never thought it’d be possible.” I make sure I wiggle my hips. “Tell you what, seeing you’re so happy to accept what I am, let me pass on the special message to you from the archangels.” I hold out my hands and place them on his temples.

  An anxious look passes across his hazel eyes. He steps back quickly and swipes my hands to the side. He shakes his index finger at me.

  “Ha, ha, no touching the head, sweetheart. That’s only a privilege for people I trust.” He reprimands me while stepping back. He strokes his dark-brown hair into place while looking a little jumpy.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Don’t you want your message from the archangels?” I feign innocence. “It’s just a simple message.” I take another step forward.

  He steps back and stands in a defensive mode. “I’m starting to think you’re a little crazier than my type, so it’s time to leave.” He points to the door.

  I sigh. “I wish it were that simple,” I say, with my expression turning serious. “But I can’t leave until I’ve passed on this message.” I take another step forward, closing him into a corner.

  Panicking, he starts to lash out and throws a fist at my face. I twist slightly to the side, watching it pass without hitting its target. His mouth drops. It’s clear to me already that he’s not trained to fight. He tries to kick me, but I catch his lower leg and scoop it up, breaking his knee with my other hand in a downward strike. The sound of bones cracking and tendons ripping reach my ears. He screams out in pain and clutches his knee, falling to the floor.

  Now is my opportunity. I’m not here to kill, no matter how deviant the person is. I lean over him, my long dark-brown hair falling forward, blocking the edges of my view. I’m no longer under threat and neither are the girls. I place my hands on his temples. Ignoring his screams of pain, I continue. I release the “message” with a white light that penetrates from my fingertips into his brain. He throws his head back, and I see his eyes properly for the first time. They play me his life story, including the horrible plans he had for the two little girls and many girls following them. I want to be sick, but I continue passing on the message.

  The message I’m giving this man, and will be giving many others in the future, is a conscience. It doesn’t sound like much but try to imagine living without one for a night and then waking up with it the next day. Imagine your torment when you remember all the bad you did that night. Now picture what it’d be like for a person who’s lived without a conscious for a very long time and then was suddenly given one. Their conscience would be burdened by all the horrible things they’d done.

  After the white light fades and the unforgivable parts of his life have passed before my eyes, I release my hands. Backing away, I look at his face. He’s spooked. I rummage through his pockets quickly for his phone and dial the emergency hotline, calling him an ambulance. I place his phone back in his pocket and see he’s not moving. Yes, his leg would be in excruciating pain, but the look on his face says he’s not going anywhere soon. The torment is eating him inside. This look concerns me. It makes me feel queasy and unsettled. I saw all he did in his past, along with his plans for the future. I agree 100 percent he used to desire evil, but I still saw some good. Perhaps, given the correct guidance, he may change.

  After casting him one final glance, I turn to the girls. I give them both a cuddle and look them in the eyes. “I’m taking you back to your families, girls.” I smile. Joya looks relieved, and the other young girl lets a few happy tears run down her face. She throws her arms around me again. When she releases me, I ask, “How long have you been here?”

  “Three sleeps,” she croaks. Her eyes are hopeful.

  A mixture of sadness and happiness floods through me. “Then let’s get you home. I’m sure your mommy and daddy will be missing you.” I stand and take both girls’ hands, and we walk down the stairs and out the door.

  - Chapter Four -

  By the time I return Joya to her home, her mom and visitors are frantic. The wailing travels to the street. They’ve given up the search outdoors, leaving it to the police. I step forward, knock on the door, and then retreat while watching Joya, making sure she remains safe. The door opens slowly, and the tear-streaked face of Sadia’s mother appears. She looks down and sees Joya and starts to yell into the house while scooping Joya into her arms.

  The warmth in my stomach explodes to full capacity, heating my whole body, then dies away. It is like it’s telling me I’ve completed my mission. I return to the street, grabbing the little blonde-haired girl by her hand. I turn back to Joya’s house. Her mom is there, hugging her and crying tears of joy. Next to her is Sadia’s mother; she spots me, and I can see the recognition in her eyes. Her face is full of questions. She can see that I’m not going to stay, so she mouths the words thank you. I smile and walk away, hand in hand with the remaining girl.

  An enormous joy fills my heart, knowing that I’ve succeeded with my first mission. Not only that, I’ve also managed to save another little girl as a bonus. Her angel hadn’t made it in time, if she’d an angel allocated to her. The world is short of protection angels these days, with the rising corruption and lack of people with a conscience. I shake my head. What’s happening to the world? It used to be a more caring place.

  I pick up the girl and cuddle her, placing her head against my chest and cover her eyes. “Sleep, little one.” I say. “You need your rest. I’ll carry you there.” The girl must be exhausted. In no time her body goes limp in my hands and heats up, her breathing becomes deep and even. Now she’s asleep. I turn myself invisible and spread my wings, cradling her in my arms as I fly her home. She needs to get home as soon as possible.

  As I fly, my mind wanders back to their captor. I did what I was instructed to do by giving him a conscience. I agree he needed intervention and needed to learn to do the right thing, but the whole process is unsettling. Something seems off about it all. Something makes me feel as though it’s a cruel way to punish him. I know I shouldn’t have any feelings of sympathy for him, as he was the scum of the earth, but there’s something else I saw during the process. I don’t know why I’m concerned. I guess it’s the way he looked after I’d finished transferring the conscience.

  The girl stirs in my arms, and I hug her closer. The breeze is much cooler up here. My eyes search around below. It looks to be the place. I lower myself to the ground, fold my wings away, and in a sheltered place I turn visible again. With the girl still in my arms I step forward and onto her street. Her house is in the distance. I kiss her on the forehead, which is still full of dirt with the tear marks still evident on her face. I’ve thought about cleaning her up before taking her back, but I know her family won’t care—they just want her back. Her eyes, as blue as a clear sky, flutter open.

  “Hey,” I say. “Time to wake up. I think you have some people who want to see you.”

  She turns her head and looks around at the houses. “Home,” she croaks. A deeper peace spreads across her face.

  I nod and stand outside her house. After putting her down I knock on the door. “Take care little one,” I say. I kiss her on the forehead again and walk away, keeping an eye on her to make sure she stays safe. When I reach the corner of the property’s fence, the door opens. A pale-skinned man in his thirties stands at the entrance. He’s thin, and his face is downcast and
worn. When he first opens the door, he looks annoyed at the intrusion. The irritation is replaced with excitement when he looks down at the little girl. Instantly he bends down and scoops her into his arms. Tears of joy run down his face. His eyes search the street, but he doesn’t see me. I’ve turned invisible. Happiness fills me while watching the homecoming.

  I turn to leave. I’m supposed to go back to the remote island base, ready to receive my next mission. I still can’t shake this pestering feeling. If I’m quick, maybe Archangel Michael won’t know I’ve taken a detour. I know there will be penalties if I don’t have a good reason, but I have to risk it. I have to check on the girls’ kidnapper. I need to see how he handles his newly acquired conscience.

  I open my wings and fly. I can’t resist the urge even though it’s slower than teleporting. I love feeling of the wind beneath my wings.

  As it’s still daylight, I remain invisible and fly toward the Royal London Hospital. It’s the closest to Brick Lane, so I assume that’s where he is.

  Once there, I make myself visible and search the newly admitted patients from the emergency ward. Looking for the familiar face, I study each patient. My shoes click softly on the polished floor, mixing with the noises from the health staff and patients. It’s a depressing place, with all the sickness and injury. Thankfully for most of the people here, they’re only in for a temporary visit. I continue to travel among the rooms. I’ve checked every room, and I’m certain that I must look lost or suspicious.

  A nurse in her blue uniform stops and asks, “Are you looking for anyone in particular?”

  She’s slightly plump. Her skin is fair and her eyes hazel and kind, but they also threaten consequences if someone aggravates her or her patients. Her unspoken threat doesn’t bother me, but I’m not here to cause trouble.