*Chapter Two: The Storm*

Tess' brown eyes gazed absentmindedly out of the kitchen window, and upon the green landscape. The sound of lapping water filled her ears, echoing through her thoughts. Then, as if on cue, her mind turned to her three angel babies. They had been gone almost an hour—why was she worrying?

Worry.

That was the subject that had been bothering her lately, overcoming her mind, and playing her thoughts. Why had she just realized what that emotion was now? Sure, in the past she had experienced worry for her angel babies, assignments, and friends. Why did it feel so different? Something just didn't feel right anymore. And furthermore, why couldn't she answer any of her questions?

Coming back to life from her daze, her skillfully manicured fingers turned the boiler down a few degrees. She checked the oven, making sure that supper wasn't burned.

With another glance at the clock and then at the timer, she sighed. Monica, Andrew, and Gloria had been gone for fifty minutes now. And when the hour was up, the roast chicken would be neatly set on the table.

Realizing how silly her motherly-behavior was, Tess shook off the matter. The three would be coming up the front door steps and through the door in just the next moment, she kept telling herself. Though inside, she knew how false she thought it all.

******

"Wait up!" Gloria's sweet voice called as she joined into the game of "tag" that her friends were beginning. Her hazel eyes glanced up to the sky. Now the clouds and the rumbling of thunder were closer.

"Why don't we stop to rest for a little while. Tess most likely won't be expecting us for another fifteen minutes," Monica suggested in her beautiful Irish lilt that came out of her mouth as a melody.

"Are you two tired?" the angel of death asked, pausing his run to glance back at his two friends.

"My ankles hurt a wee bit. A short rest would be nice. And we could also enjoy this beautiful scenery," the auburn spoke softly. She cast a questioning look to the youngest angel, whose face was beginning to ponder the weather. Seeing the look in Gloria's eyes, Monica also looked up to the sky.

"Actually, our hike might be postponed," the little angel announced. Andrew's emerald green eyes showed disappointment.

"I think you're right," he agreed with a nod.

"We have a whole two weeks," Monica reminded her friends. "I'm sure we can get farther along this trail…"

But an ear-aching clap of thunder sounded through the whole forest, interrupting her speech. Following it was a flash of lightning, and then rain began to fall. The raindrops splashed upon the roots and dead leaves the covered the wood floor, penetrating water onto the angel's faces.

"I think we should continue our game of tag back to the cabin," Andrew hollered, his voice competing with the loud noises of the storm. Monica nodded and grabbed Gloria's hand.

"But I suggest we be careful. This rain on the pine needles makes the ground slippery," Monica spoke. This time, Gloria was the one who nodded.

"Our safety is what matters the most," the brunette said as the three made their way quickly through the forest. The maneuvered their feet carefully, making sure not to trip on any roots that jutted out of the ground. "But if the storm gets any worst, Andrew, Monica," she continued slowly. "We must stop. Lighting is known to strike trees. Being in the woods during a thunderstorm is one of the worst places to be."

"Yes," the blond agreed. He ran his fingers through his hair as he led the way. "Gloria's right. And if, by chance, you do get caught in a bad storm, take shelter in a sturdy place of in a ditch."

"Thank you for the safety lesson, Andrew," Monica joked. She let out a small giggle and continued, "But we didn't come out here to go to school." Andrew chuckled, and Gloria smiled.

"I know that," he said. He jokingly nudged his elbow into her ribs. "But someday, you might need to know that! Now…" his voice trailed off as he paused, shielding his eyes from the oncoming wind and rain. "Tag, you're it!" Andrew exclaimed, tapping the brunette on the shoulder. Gloria opened her mouth in awe and chased after her friend, leaving Monica behind in her tracks.

"Now who's it?" she giggled after half tackling Andrew. His emerald green eyes showed no mercy as he doubled back and tagged the Irish angel on the arm. Soon, all of the angels were caught up in their game, not even noticing which direction they were going, or how terrible the storm was.

"Tag!" Monica gasped in her breathless lilt. The angel of death raced after her, crossing the path, and heading farther away from their destination. Suddenly she stopped, and touched her wet head. "Andrew, we have to get back! It must have been an hour and a half since we left the cabin."

"You're right," he mumbled with a shadowed look overcoming his face. If it was worry or fear, Monica couldn't decide.

"Tess is probably as scared as can be. And look," she pointed to the sky. It was completely black, clouds piling in more and more as the minutes passed. "Hey, where's Gloria?" the Irish angel asked, suddenly. Andrew looked around him as if he had thought he knew.

"She was right behind us, wasn't she? We were running then you tagged me. I took off after you…and…" his words were lost to another clap of thunder and flash of blinding light.

"And? Andy," Monica continued abruptly. "Where's the trail? When I took off, I must have wandered away from it…and…and I bet that's where Gloria is," her voice spoke, almost relieved. But then another thought dawned upon her.

As if reading his friend's thoughts, Andrew questioned, "But where's the trail?" Guilt masked his emotions. He had been the one who said that they wouldn't get lost. He was the one who had found the trail. And now…even though he didn't want to admit it to himself or anybody, he was at fault.

He should have led them back to the cabin and stopped Monica from running off the trail. Now what would he do? Was this it? We're they lost in the forest until the search and rescue teams found them? No, they'd find their way out in no time.

"You mean you don't know?" Monica asked him in a shocked tone. "I thought you said…"

"Monica, I know what I said…and…and I'm sorry," he said in almost a hushed voice. For a moment, there was silence between the two, only the falling rain and the clapping thunder to break the stillness.

"Well, then I suppose we better find Gloria and the trail," the Irish angel suggested. Andrew nodded and held out his hand in front of her. A small grin powered her lips and she accepted his hand, entangling her fingers around his.

He mused and then spoke, "That's a good idea. We should head that way…no…" the words that came from his mouth ceased. "When we left, the sun was up. If it still was, we'd be able to tell which was is West."

"Andy, I'm getting…we're getting soaked!" Monica cried, the words sputtering from her mouth all at once. She touched her wet arm and with longing brown eyes, gazed up at him.

Suddenly, lightning lit up the sky, followed by a loud ring of thunder. A loud crack echoed in their ears, causing Monica to wince. Instinctively, Andrew wrapped his arm around her and motioned for her to follow him. They needed to find shelter fast.

"What was that?" she screamed, racing after him in the storm.

"Lightning hit somewhere close. We need to find a safe place to settle." Noticing the fear in her eyes, he continued, "Sorry, Mon, but this is it. We can't go after Gloria until the storm passes."

"But, Andrew, it could be all night before it lets up. We have to keep going! I'm not going to let Gloria suffer through this weather!" her lilt squeaked.

Stopping for a moment, the angel of death turned around and faced his friend. With saddened emerald green eyes, he gazed at her. His heart almost stopped, realizing how much the younger angel was hurting. Gloria was her friend—their friend. But as much as he wanted to press on, he knew the danger.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Gloria knows that she has to find shelter. Remember, we had that little "school lesson"?" he joked, trying to lighten her spirits.

"Yes, but…but…" The auburn could not find any more words. Andrew grabbed her hand once again and ran as fast as she would let him. And just then, another loud crack shadowed the woods. Lightning had struck again.

******

Gloria slowly opened her eyes, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her cheek was pressed hard in the mud, a few rocks stabbing her side. She was flat on the ground. Her right leg was numb—completely unmovable. Her whole body ached with surging pain. What had happened?

Slowly lifting up her head, she tried to see through the rain. Trees were all around her. She then looked above her. Then it all came to her.

I must have fallen, she though, squinting to make out the scenery.

She was laying inside a ravine, not terribly far below from the trail above. Then she distinctly remembered trying to call out to Monica and Andrew who had been deeply engaged in their game of tag, but failing to cry out loud enough. Her right ankle was coming back to life, throbbing all the more.

I twisted my ankle…then fell into this ravine, her thoughts continued.

"Oh, Father," she whispered, shivering from the cold rain. "Please help me."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but they would have been oblivious to anyone who looked at her because of the hard downpour. Her skin was turning blue, her head pounding, her ankle throbbing, and her whole body was soaked.

Then, as if on cue, a sudden warmth seemed to encircle around her and touch her cheek. That was all she needed for reassurance. Strength rushed through her muscles, awakening them, and putting all of her senses on guard. She remembered Andrew's words about finding a shelter during bad weather…such as this, she realized.

"I need to find something to keep me safe," she managed, deciding to take advantage of her strength while she had the chance.

Finally getting the urge to try to stand, she carefully balanced her weight on her left arm, tumbling slowly onto that side. That was the side that hurt the least. As she stood up, her head pounded even more. But she knew she had to at least try to move. Otherwise, she'd be abusing the strength that the Father had given her. Then she put half of her weight on her right ankle.

Bad idea!

The little angel almost collapsed from the pain that moved its way up her right leg. She'd have to shift her weight to her left side and hop her way to safety. Though the idea sounded quite hilarious, especially to an angel who never had experienced a twisted ankle, the more she pondered it, it made sense.

The rain burned her hazel eyes, her brunette head was soaked all the way to her scalp, and her clothes were practically hanging on her. This was the worst downpour she had ever been in, she decided.

"Thank you, Father," she said with gratitude after she found shelter in a little outgrowth in the ravine. She'd have to wait until her ankle felt more secure and the storm had passed to try and climb out of the low land. Perhaps by then her friends would be out looking for her. She knew Andrew and Monica would already be worried about her.

******

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I was once was lost…" Tess' beautiful voice ceased altogether as another tear rolled down her dark skin. That was the third one she had to wipe away. Admitting that she was scared and worried was not like her. So, in that case, crying did not help.

I once was lost…

"My angel babies are lost," she said gloomily, a frown turning her once lovely smile into a grim line. She didn't even quite know whom she was talking to. Possibly God, possibly herself, she was unaware.

But now I'm found.

A voice seemed to whisper those words in her ears. She tugged on a gold angel earring that hung upon her earlobe.

"When are they going to be found, Father?" the supervisor asked, this time sure of who her listener was. Brown eyes gaped out of the bay window. Lightning almost blinded her eyes as she did so. Lightning, nor thunder, brought hopes whatsoever to her heart. Bad weather just meant a worse chance for her charges, wherever they were.

******

"Look, over there!" Andrew called loudly. He let go of Monica's icy-cold hand and pointed towards a rock wall that he estimated to be about one hundred feet high. But what he specifically pointed to was a small cave. It wasn't at all large, but it was suite for a few number of people. "Hurry!" His emerald green eyes stared at Monica and told her to head inside.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'll be right in. Now go!" he urged her. She accepted his instructions with only a bit of hesitation.

Almost falling onto the floor of the small cave, the Irish angel gave a sigh of relief and gasped for clear air only to find a musty and dirty smell flow into her nostrils. She wrinkled her nose and sat up. Then her gaze turned to her friend who tugged on a few average-sized boulders outside of the cave. Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling sound and some of the rocks that lined up the entryway of the cave collapsed.

"Andrew!" Monica screamed, covering her mouth. The angel of death tumbled into the cave, a few rocks falling from the top of the cave and onto his body. He stumbled on, trying his best to ignore his fresh wounds. Without warning, he leapt over Monica, shielding her from the rock fall.

A few moments passed, seeming to be long, countless minutes, to the Irish angel. Finally, she felt Andrew's weight shift. He slowly unwrapped his arms from her, then fell flat a few feet away from his friend. At first, she was afraid to move. Only darkness surrounded them, and that musty smell that made her wince. The light that once crept in from the entrance was diminished. Rocks had fallen everywhere.

"Andrew?" she called out in a frightened whisper. She reached out a shaking hand and felt around for him. Then she found his hand and squeezed it. Movement stirred next to her and she felt him squeeze back.

He was alive!

"Mon…Monica?" he groaned.

"I'm here, Andy. I'm here," she comforted, sitting up. She tried to make out his limp image in the darkness. "But I can't see anything."

"The rocks collapsed. Are…are you alright?" the angel of death asked Monica, moving his blond head towards her.

"I'm fine. But you? You were in it…what happened…?"

"Nothing my arm just…"

Without any notice to him, she leaned down and touched his arm. He jumped, moving away from her. She could barely make out soft whimpers that escaped his mouth. Then she felt bad—terrible. She could almost feel the pain that he was experiencing.

"You're crying?" After a moment of silence, she spoke again, "I'm so sorry, Andrew. I feel so bad."

"No, it's not your fault. It's mine," he admitted, his voice shaking from the pain that he felt flowing through his left arm and all the way up to his shoulder.

"What are we going to do? We're trapped in a cave! There's no one near by, and only God knows how far away Gloria is—and the cabin," she added in a frightened Irish lilt.

"Yes, Monica, only God knows. And that's all that matters. If He didn't know, where would we be? What would we do?" the angel of death managed to sputter out. Monica's lips formed a small smile.

"You're right, I guess. I'm a wee bit afraid, Andy." Her auburn hair hung in her face, but she gave no hint of a care. Then she felt his cold hand on her cheek. Even his wet skin gave her comfort—it always did. No matter where, when, or how. She reached over and touched his easeful hand that stroked her cheek softly.

"It's alright to be afraid, but maybe we should ask the Father to help us…I mean, he does know where we are, remember? Perhaps he'll help us find our way home," his low voice suggested. Monica scooted down and rested her head gently on his chest, hoping not to hurt him.

"I think you're right, Angel Boy," she told him sincerely. Then, whispering a small prayer, she closed her eyes, and dozed off. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Tomorrow we'll look for Gloria," he said.

"But what if we can't get out of here? We'll suffocate," Monica told him. "She's probably so afraid. What do you think she's doing now?"

"I bet she's saying a prayer, asking God to help her. She can't be that far away. I mean, we didn't run that far when I was chasing after you. And we didn't go that far to find this shelter. If she didn't go wandering off a ways, then I'm sure we'll meet up somehow."

"Somehow?" the Irish angel asked, raising her head. "Somehow? How can you say that? Why not 'for sure'? Andrew, anything can happen while we're in human form—anything! We're just at as much risk as any human is. You don't think that God would let Gloria…" her angered words trailed off.

"Die?" the blond asked his friend, stroking her wet auburn hair. "I can't give you an answer, Monica. All I can say is that God is in control."

Just then, feeling the warmth of his hand, she backed up, that strange feeling arising in the depths of her soul. Surprisingly, he did the same, noticing her comforting closeness. What was this all about?

"What's…what's the matter?" he asked her, trying to cover up his move.

"What do you mean?" she replied. Her brown eyes tried to see as deep into his that she could in the darkness.

"You said anything can happen when we're humans, right?" Andrew asked Monica solemnly.

"Yes," the Irish angel answered. "Why?" she muttered.

"Even…this?" he asked her in a nervous tone, leaning towards her, a little hesitation faltering his movement. He stopped short a few inches in front of her face and cupped her chin in his large hands. Then, when she didn't move back, he pressed his lips against hers. For a few moments, they stayed in the same position, until a loud blow of thunder rumbled overhead. She pulled back, unsure of herself. They both sat still, pondering what had just happened.

Was this the strange feeling that they had been having? they both wondered.