He finally saw the opening of the woods ahead. Still not knowing who would be on the other side of it, he stopped and looked back. They weren't on his tail. The teenager let out a sigh of relief. His eyes searched the forest with eagerness. Then he could hear voices surrounding him.

"God," he whispered. "I don't want to die. I don't want to go to jail. Please, just this once, help me." The voices were getting nearer and his heart was beating faster than ever. Did he just pray to God? Was it true that God still had a place in his heart? No, Bobby thought, not possible. God doesn't care about me so why should I care about him?

"Bobby," a male voice asked. Bobby turned around, almost lifting his hands in the air to surrender. Instead, there was a man standing there with a brilliant light surrounding him. He wore a child service uniform, but he didn't seem to want to take Bobby.

"What do you want from me?" Bobby asked, shading his eyes from the light.

"I'm an angel," the man said. "My name is Sam and God sent me to tell you something," Sam said solemnly.

"God sent me a black angel?" Bobby asked, annoyance in his voice.

"Why does that bother you, Bobby," Sam asked, triggering the teenager's emotions. "Why?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Bobby snapped, running his hands through his jet-black hair.

"Of course you do," Sam said. "You've seen an angel before, haven't you?"

"No! Just leave!"

"Didn't you pray to God just a second ago? Didn't you ask him to help you?" Sam asked with a sincere smile on his face. "I'm going to help you if you'll let me."

"Why would I want God's help?"

"You tell me, Bobby, you prayed to him. What's in your heart?" the angel asked.

"What do you mean, angel?" Bobby cried. A few tears ran down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, embarrassed and upset.

"Bobby, think back to the night that you started running. What happened?"

"No! Just leave me alone! I hate God! I hate this world!" Bobby sobbed. He tried to run but only found that the faster he kept his pace, the more he tripped through the brush. And every time he stumbled, Sam helped him back up, beckoning him to listen.

"Bobby Parmeter," Sam began. "God loves you and He'll forgive you for what you've done if you'll only ask him too."

"I might as well die than ask for forgiveness," Bobby cried. "I'm going to be caught in just a moment. My life will be nothing to God after that. I'll just be a jail bum like everyone else."

"No, Bob, God cares about every single thing on this planet. And you want to know why?" Sam asked. "Because He created everything. No matter how far you run and how fast your pace is, God will follow. You can't run from Him. Everywhere you go, God will be there waiting for you, hoping that you'll repent your sins. He loves you so much more than you can imagine."

"Really?" a dumbfounded teen asked, his voice ringing in the darkness. "God loves me even though I killed more than one person?"

"Yes, he really does. Now, I need you to remember past that night you started running. I need you to remember what made you turn your path around. Please, Bobby. If you do, you'll find that living will be a whole lot easier."

"I don't know how, Sam, I just don't," Bobby cried. He buried his head in his arms and sat on the ground.

"Ask for God's help once more and you'll find something greater than life. You'll find love."

Bobby sat in the darkness and cradled his head. For more than a half-hour he prayed, asking and looking for God's help.

"Sam," he called out after a long moment of silence.

"I'm here," the angel replied, laying a hand on Bobby's back.

"Am I going to die?" he asked.

"Sooner or later, yes, just like everyone else on this planet," Sam answered. "But not today or tomorrow."

"Can you tell me about God?" he asked. "I used to go to Sunday School with my parents, but that was such a long time ago. I need to know again."

"I sure can," Sam told him. "Just as long as you listen."

Sydney moaned as a guard pushed her into her cell and slammed the barred door shut. She immediately fell onto the small bed that was provided for her. She didn't feel like doing anything else but sleep. Her one hope was gone-the necklace. Now all that flashed into her mind was memories of her parents. She didn't want to think about them. That was too long ago and it hurt too much.

"So, what you in here for?" a female's voice asked. Sydney peeped her blue eyes open and shot her sight over to a girl about the same ago as her who was in the cell across the room.

"I killed someone, assisted in two murders, robbed a restaurant, and was on the run for a while," Sydney answered with a laugh. "Yours can't be that bad."

"You don't know," the girl answered, gripping the barred door with her fingers.

"What?" Sydney asked, a curious expression creeping over her flushed face.

"Let's just say that I've been in here for more than ten years," the girl answered in a gruff voice.

"So?" Sydney pressed on.

"I killed two people in a car accident. And if that doesn't sound like something too bad to you, there was a baby in there. She lived-miraculously-without any internal damage done, but it still haunts me to this day."

"Well," Sydney said with a sarcastic awe in her voice. "That's surprising. Did you want to kill them?"

"No, of course not. And you know it wasn't even my fault. It happened right on Maine Street…you know the street that goes to the firehall? Yeah, right at the intersection."

"Whoa, freaky," Sydney said. "There was a crash scene there just a few days ago. I guess a lot of people run that light."

"No, you don't get it," the girl said. "I didn't run the red light, it…" her voice trailed off. "I just don't remember anymore."

"Hey, I know you probably just don't want to admit that you did it. That's how must punks feel after they kill someone."

"I'm not trying to cover up anything, swear. I just don't exactly remember anymore."

"Wait a second, girl, you said you've been in here for over ten years. You're only a teenager like me. And that means that you would've only been four or five when this happened. That's impossible. A four year old can't drive a car."

"I wasn't little," the girl answered. "I was way past that. Maybe in my thirties."

"Okay, girl, if jail did that to you, I'm almost afraid to see what it will do to me. Snap out of it! You're only about fifteen!"

"No, I'm not. I'm way older than that!"

"Whatever!" Sydney said. She rolled her eyes and slumped back down on the bed.

"Oh, Father," Tess prayed. "Please don't let this carry on today. I know you don't want it to and have the power to stop it…" her voice trailed off. "Oh, dear." She watched the scene in front of her. It was an average fire rescue. There was a team of fighters surrounding the flaming house, some with part of the hose in their hands, and others putting the latter up the building.

"Jim! Come with me. I'm going to need help on this one!" Ryan cried.

"Okay!" Jim shouted, playing along. "I'll be right up!" He watched Ryan disappear back into the smoky building. "I'm coming," he grinned.

Inside the house, flames were ablaze every which way. Ryan let out a laugh as he flung his helmet off. He searched the floor, his red eyes glowing.

"Jim," he said his voice now a cruel and haunting tone. "Fetch me the "water"," he ordered. Jim also flung off his mask and helmet and nodded. Jim threw him a pale of a thick, black liquid, definitely not water. Ryan carried it at his side. Suddenly his red uniform turned into a black pantsuit and he walked through the fire, the flames not touching his flesh.

"Ryan," Jim said, his clothes also black. "It looks as if we've got ourselves an opponent."

"Oh, good," Ryan smirked. "I always enjoy those!"

"Well, you won't this one!" Tess said, anger raging her voice.

"Look at what we got here. The woman from the firehall."

"I'm not just your ordinary woman," Tess raged. Suddenly her appearance was white as snow. "I think you know this already, but to get to the point, I'm an angel of God. You have no power in the presence of love! Now, by the orders of the Almighty, set the gasoline down-now!" Tess stormed. Her appearance was angelic, but her voice was demanding.

"The Almighty?" Ryan laughed. "I don't take orders from him anymore. I thought you would've figured that out by now."

"Oh, Father," Tess prayed. "Give me strength!"

"Help me!" a small voice whimpered. All three beings turned and gazed through the fire. In the corner of the room, a little boy sat, holding his legs against his stomach. "Please, help me!" Ryan and Jim both started towards the child.

"Satan, if you touch that child, you will have to answer to the Wrath of God!" Tess stormed; her face beat red in anger. Jim laughed.

"Now, Tess, angel of God, here's your test: answer to the wrath of the devil himself!" Tess almost gasped when Jim's voice switched to a terrifying tone.

"You…" Tess asked, looking back at Ryan. "But I thought…"

"Evil has its way of deceiving," Jim laughed. "Ryan is just my sidekick. He has been helping me for a long time now, faithfully serving me." Tess just stood still and dumfounded.

"I can't believe this. I didn't have any idea," she muttered.

"Help me," the boy whimpered again. Tess tried to brush past the two in front of her, but couldn't budge the invisible wall of hatred in front of her. Had her temper got in the way? Was her loving heart replaced with anger? How could she fight evil without love? The only answer was that she couldn't.