2: Flood
Bonnie ran her hand down the unicorn's silky pelt. It was perhaps a little premature to plan ahead, but she thought that she'd like to own a petting zoo in the distant future.
She watched as a pair of regal elephants were gently heaved onto the Ark. The animals were exceptionally quiet as they shuffled their weary feet. As if they knew the end was coming.
"Yikes. All those creatures below deck. Makes me feel sorry for the guy who has to clean up."
Bonnie did not turn around. Maybe he would go away if she stood very still.
Malachai reached out to pet her unicorn. He ran his fingers along the length of the horn with an appreciative hum.
Bonnie glanced at him surreptitiously. She did not want to betray her surprise. He hadn't popped in to say hello in quite a few years. He still looked perennially boyish, if a little sunburned. His short locks were trapped under an anachronistic baseball cap and he was wearing a most horrid pair of cargo shorts. He looked out of place, out of time too. Modern in a way she did not understand.
Bonnie prided herself on blending with the locals. She adjusted the veil over her forehead. "You're going to draw unnecessary attention to yourself."
Malachai looked up. "Well, you're wearing lip gloss."
Bonnie blushed furiously. "I'm not! I would never."
Yes, angels and demons could dip their toes in the well of time, but the whole thing was very risk-prone. They couldn't control the essence of time: there were limits to their reach. That was why she enjoyed being a leisurely observer of history, not galloping through it foolishly, wreaking havoc. But he was a demon and this was his calling, after all.
"Then your lips must be naturally lush." He winked.
Bonnie wiped her mouth self-consciously and rolled her eyes. "You're full of it."
"Full of what?"
Bonnie blinked. "I…you know what."
"Angels can't cuss, can they?"
Bonnie really wanted to prove him wrong, but it was true. She settled for a small huff.
"So, what exactly is going on here?" he asked, nudging his chin towards the Ark and the submissive rows of humans and beasts surrounding it.
Bonnie pursed her lips. "I thought you had mastered the past and the future."
"I'm only a demon, Bonnie. You give me too much credit."
Of course he would twist her barbs into compliments. She wrinkled her nose. "What does it look like to you? It's an exodus, obviously."
"Okay... but this Ark can't possibly house that many icky mortals."
"It's just the animals and a handful of humans," she mumbled.
Malachai sniffed. "Handful? What about all the other folks hanging around?"
Bonnie surveyed the caravans of men and women and children milling about, all their earthly goods heaped haphazardly behind them.
"They, uh, they're not going to make it."
Malachai blinked and it was an odd thing to see, since he rarely did it. His serpentine eyes never failed to spook her. Though a part of her rather liked the peculiarity of his orange orbs, aesthetically speaking. She sometimes got a little tired of the white appurtenances of angels.
"Not going to make it?" he echoed. "Ha. Sounds more like a threat. Isn't that my specialty?"
Bonnie shifted awkwardly. "It's not a threat. It's divine justice. There's a flood coming, a big one. It will wipe out all of humanity. The All-Mighty wants to, um, make an example of the people on Earth. They've disobeyed him one too many times."
"Holy shit. That's feral."
Bonnie cringed. She should not listen to this talk.
"It's divine justice," she repeated. "A clean slate. "
"A clean slate...sure, like that's not insane. All these people, even the children? Come on, he won't kill the children."
Bonnie forced herself not to look at said children. "I'm afraid there can't be exceptions."
"Wow, not even that old fart Beelzebub is that vindictive. Sure, she makes me fetch her lattes from Starbucks, which, by the way, is a twentieth-century concoction of true hellish proportions, but -"
"God understands the need for sacrifice," she interceded quickly. "He will make it better for the new generation. Noah and his family will survive."
"Who's Noah?"
Bonnie pointed him out in the crowd.
Malachai shrugged. "Looks as weak-willed as the rest of them."
Bonnie bristled.
"Why do you care so much? Shouldn't you be enjoying the impending destruction?"
Malachai smiled. "Oh, I am. I just wanted to point out your side's hypocrisy."
"Thank you for your invaluable input," she muttered, wishing sarcasm felt less comfortable on her tongue.
The unicorn neighed sweetly between them. Malachai removed his hand from the horn.
"You never told me what punishment you got for "losing" the flaming sword."
Bonnie stiffened.
"The All-Mighty, in his infinite justice, saw fit to forgive me."
Malachai cocked his head. "And?"
"And what?"
"There's got to be more to it than that. He "forgives", but there's usually a catch."
Bonnie felt a strange current, like foreboding, traveling down her spine. She panicked inwardly, wondering if he could tell, if it was visible.
"I, um - nothing out of the ordinary."
He grinned. "Did he also make you get lattes?"
Bonnie chewed on her lower lip. So, he was only teasing. He had no idea.
Malachai's smile grew oddly ominous. His serpent eyes blinked. "Worse?"
Bonnie shook her head. "No, he was very fair. And - that's enough. I don't have to tell you anything anyway."
Malachai narrowed his eyes. "No, suppose you don't. But I'll find out. Heavenly gossip always finds its way downstairs."
"Can't you just let me be?" she said, and because she said it softly, without bite, it stung a lot more. The demon's features sharpened. Some of that ugly rage which had kindled his Fall rose to the surface now. He hissed at the unicorn. The frightened creature raised its horn and pushed past them, galloping quicker than the wind.
Bonnie turned to him. "What did you do that for?! We need the animals in pairs for the Ark! God's plan can't be-"
"Ruined? Sorry," he shrugged. "Forgot about God's ineffable plan. I guess this'll throw a wrench in it, huh?"
Bonnie glared at him. Technically, he was doing his job, wasn't he?
Malachai smiled easily at her, but she could still see the rage bubbling underneath and she wasn't sure what he was angry for. She didn't want to guess. Suppose hellish creatures were made to be furious because they'd lost their place in God's kingdom.
Malachai didn't seem that cut up about that, though.
No, she wouldn't guess. She wouldn't think about it.
"See you around, Angel. Don't get those robes too wet."
He slithered past her and disappeared into the desert heat.
Bonnie opened her mouth, closed it. She'd have the last word next time.
If there was a next time.
Bonnie stared at the giant Ark. The wooden belly groaned with the weight of innocent soulless animals. She felt a sense of useless loss.
But she wouldn't let a demon in her head. It was already crowded enough.
