2
Leo
He came to the door with his mask off. Don didn't open the door all the way. He just propped his elbow up on the frame and stared out at me. "I'm in the middle of something really important, Leo, what is it?"
It wasn't like him to get impatient or snap or rude either, but there it was. I held in my sigh. Sighing, at this stage, would just upset him. "I have a mission I want us to take on," I said slowly. "There's a woman who might be in danger."
Don looked at me. He had a Dr. Pepper in his hand. He continued to look at me while he took a long swig of it. Very blasé. Very cool.
"This is part of your 'Tribulation Project', isn't it," he said at last. Raphael had been sharing notes, studying Revelation together. We'd tried to share it with Don and April too. Both of them knew that I had plans towards doing something about it.
"Yes, it is," I said. "You promised me three weeks ago you'd stick with us no matter what though, regardless of your beliefs. Are you going back on your word now?"
He pushed back from his frame. "No. I'm not. Just tell me where and when to go."
He slammed the door in my face. I found myself staring at it. It was a good thick door, painted red. All the doors in this house were painted a different color, as if the previous owners had wanted to distinguish themselves. It was a dark red, and the paint was starting to peel. I had the sudden urge to paint his door for him. It wouldn't have been such an eyesore if it had been open – ever. But it practically never was.
Time for Raph's room. His door was open. I knocked twice on the frame anyway, but he motioned me in. He was balanced on his right leg – the same leg he'd been shot in. Nanites or not it was weak. I could tell the exercise was putting him in massive amounts of pain. He'd refused all medicines. I stared at him. Before the Rapture, before our faith, before everything, to see Raphael exhibiting anything like discipline, anything except skill fueled by raw anger and borderline hatred, would have been extremely rare. Not that he'd ever had trouble with pain. But he would have gotten frustrated with his shaking and trembling balance, and he probably would have stomped off to go brood about it. Now, when he wobbled, he put out a hand to steady himself and began again.
I got into a little more depth with Raphael, covering everything that Buck had said. He finally set down and nodded, a dark, troubled emotion passing over his eyes.
"We'll find a way to help Casey," I promised. "I just don't know how yet."
"He won't even speak to me these days."
Shortly after Raphael had tried to grab Casey away from Nicolae Carpathia, he'd tried to call Casey to deliver the warning over the phone that he hadn't managed in person. Jones had hung up on him.
The war for souls was coming. I was all geared up to battle for them. Yet I couldn't figure out, other than prayer, the best way to go about battling for the souls of three of the most important people in my life.
Don, April, and Casey seemed to be falling farther and farther away from us with every passing day.