Hey, everyone! Here's another chapter! This one's looong, so have fun reading! Sorry, I took a while to update. Life got in the way. Anyway, thanks to…
littleGloriaFaith
GrimlockX4
…for all the reviews. Very inspiring. Enjoy!
A/N: Warning—this one gets a bit creepy!
"Matt, I don't see any 400-speed film."
It was the day after the church meeting and Travis had seen one of the tall, dark men hanging around his hill again. He wanted to be ready the next time the guy showed up, so he drove into town to the local convenience store looking for some film for his camera.
"It's there, Travis." The wheelchair-bound store owner, Matt Kiley, rolled past. He was getting ready to close up shop, so he was making sure everything was clean and in its proper place before he left. "Aisle two. Eye level."
Travis found the correct aisle and began scanning the shelves. He was so focused on what he was doing that he almost ran into someone as he moved down the aisle. He looked up to see who it was and to apologize. He smiled a little when he found Andrew standing there, a bottle of orange juice in one hand and a bag of potato chips in the other.
"Hi, Travis," the man greeted, smiling.
Travis studied him for a moment. "So, this is what you do on your day off?"
Andrew chuckled. "Guy's gotta eat, right?"
"Hurry up, guys. I'm closing early today." Matt called from the front of the store. He had a stick with a mechanical claw at the end in his hand and was busy trying to turn the door sign over so it read 'closed.' "Thinkin' about goin' up to that miracle church. Might get lucky."
The sign came loose and dropped to the floor. He sighed, reaching down with his "claw" to pick it up.
"Here." A young man with long, curly dark hair suddenly appeared beside him. He bent low, retrieving the sign. "Let me help you." He handed the sign back to the owner and at the same time took his hand in his in a handshake.
From somewhere else in the store, Andrew suddenly felt a chill similar to the one he and the other angels had felt at church the previous night. But this one was a bit different. More powerful. The lights flickered momentarily. Then the feeling was gone.
"Andrew, you okay?" Travis asked, noticing the strange look on his friend's face.
"Yeah…" Andrew nodded slowly, trying to shake off that strange feeling. "I'm fine." He instinctively turned toward where the store owner was.
A young man he didn't recognize was there with Matt. He took the claw from him and tossed it aside. "I don't think you'll be needing this anymore."
Then without another word, the man disappeared out the door.
Matt looked like he'd seen a ghost. He was trembling, his eyes wide with shock. Andrew ran up to him, Travis close behind.
"Are you okay?" The angel put a hand on Matt's shoulder and immediately drew it back as if he'd touched something hot. But it wasn't hot. It was cold. So cold.
"What's the matter, Matt?" Travis asked.
Matt didn't answer right away, but did something else instead. Something that took both Travis and Andrew by surprise. Bracing himself on the arms of his wheelchair, Matt slowly pushed himself up to his feet. He took a tentative step forward then another, marveling at the newfound strength in his lower extremities. He looked down at his legs, laughing and crying at the same time. He'd been healed!
Travis' jaw dropped and Andrew just stared. The man who had been bound to a wheelchair for most of his life was now able to walk. Was it a miracle…or something more?
"I didn't even thank him," Matt said, looking out the door, searching the streets for the man who'd done this to him.
Travis looked at him. "Thank who?"
Travis and Andrew followed the man's gaze and looked out the glass door just time to spot a dark figure disappear around the corner. Travis raced outside to pursue the stranger, completely forgetting about Andrew and Matt.
Travis followed the man down a couple of blocks and into the local supermarket where he was met with a very peculiar sight.
The lights were flickering on and off, casting spooky flashes on the faces of the building's occupants. Employees were running around trying to figure out what was going on. And there was a small crowd gathered by the checkouts, murmuring anxiously to one another.
Travis went over to see what was causing all the frenzy and almost tripped over a grocery bag lying on the ground, its contents spilled out all over the floor. Hearing a familiar voice, he looked up and into the center of the crowd. His eyes widened. Dee Henchle was lying on the ground in a puddle of milk, muttering incoherently in a strange language. Her daughter was kneeling next to her, a fearful expression on her face. She grabbed her mother's shoulders, trying to shake her out of it.
Darlene spotted Travis and began to explain what had happened. "Some man touched her and she just fell over."
Even as Travis listened to the young woman, his eyes searched the crowd. A noise from behind suddenly caught his attention. He whirled around and caught sight of someone casually strolling through the back of the store. He went after him. But when he got there, the figure was gone. He glanced around, left and right, between the aisles. Nothing. How could the guy have disappeared so fast?
"There, he went out the door!" Darlene called, pointing toward the front door that had just slid shut.
Travis raced out the door, running right past Sheriff Henchle who'd gotten the call a few minutes ago and had just arrived. He got out to the middle of the street, his eyes scanning in all directions, and found that the guy was nowhere in sight. He was just gone. He kicked the dirt beneath his feet, frustrated, and headed back to the store. The lights were back to normal and Brett was cradling his now lucid wife in his arms.
"You okay, baby?" Brett asked worriedly, stroking her hair. "What happened?"
Dee looked up at him, still in a bit of a daze. "It was like—like a jolt of electricity just went through my whole body."
"That's what it felt like when it happened to me, mom," Darlene said, knowing exactly what her mother was talking about.
"Who did this to you, huh?" the sheriff said, helping his wife to her feet. "Who you talkin' about, babe?"
"Well, I don't know who he was, but he looked like…" Dee's brow furrowed as she recalled the man's face, only now realizing who the guy reminded her of.
"Like who?" her husband pressed.
"He looked like Jesus?" She answered, unsure.
Before Brett could reply, he heard a lanky man in a plaid shirt and overalls saying, to no one in particular, "Weren't no Jesus. His name's Brandon Nichols. Brandon dropped her like a sack of potatoes—like in a kung fu movie!"
Travis turned to him "You sure you can identify him?" he asked, speaking up for the first time.
The man nodded, looking a bit annoyed. "Yeah. Brandon just stole my job as farmhand for Miss Macon. The old crow canned me and hired him, after all I done for her. I seen him cross the street, so I followed him over here to give him a piece of my mind."
"I don't like nobody layin' their hands on my wife." Brett's face turned red. Clenching his fists, he headed toward the door. "I'm goin' out there."
He hurried outside to his cruiser and the crowd followed. They were all curious to see this seemingly powerful stranger.
Unknown to them, two figures had been standing nearby watching the entire scene unfold before them, unseen by human eyes.
"What just happened here, Andrew?" Monica asked, a deep crease in her brow.
The blonde angel did not respond and just stared after the crowd, his face mirroring that of his friend.
Fifteen minutes later, the sheriff arrived at Miss Macon's farm. The sweet, elderly lady directed him to her barn where the young man was busy working. He hiked over to the old wooden building, followed by Travis and Nancy Barrons, a journalist from the local newspaper. They were the only people Brett allowed to accompany him.
Peering through the barn doors, they found a young man busily moving and stacking bales of hay. He wasn't particularly handsome or anything. He didn't look special. He was just an average guy in his early twenties with a dark, mop-top hairdo, dressed in a black shirt, dirty blue jeans, muddy boots, and thick, leather work gloves.
No one noticed the three figures that had appeared in a corner of the barn, unseen. Monica and Andrew, now accompanied by Gloria, had followed them. The youngest angel was so busy marveling at the big wooden structure that she wasn't watching where she was going and backed up and fell into a pile of straw. She rolled into it, head over heels, half disappearing under the swishing stuff.
With an embarrassed look on her face, Gloria sat upright, brushing the straw off her arms and shoulders. The two older angels laughed at their friend goodnaturedly from their perch atop a towering stack of hay bales. The young angel rolled her eyes up at them then suddenly appeared beside them, untangling pieces of straw from her hair. Monica reached over and began to help while they all focused in on what was going on at the other side of the barn.
The young man noticed he was being watched and set down the bale he was carrying to approach his visitors. "Hello," he greeted, a friendly smile on his face.
The sheriff frowned. "You Brandon Nichols?"
"Yeah, that's me.
Brett switched into interrogation mode. Something his job had made him really good at. "Were you at Mack's Supermarket twenty minutes ago?"
To everyone's surprise, Brandon nodded, nonchalant. "Yeah, I was actually. How's your wife? Is she okay?"
"Fine." Brett eyed him warily. "I'm not sure you are, leaving the scene of an accident."
Brandon arched an eyebrow. "An accident?"
"Yeah." The sheriff glared at him. "She fell down when you touched her."
"Doesn't Dee have a reputation for being slain in the spirit on a regular basis?"
"Yeah, but how do you know about her reputation?" Brett demanded, narrowing his eyes at him suspiciously. "For that matter, how do you know her name?"
Brandon smiled mysteriously. "Well, I observe people closely and I make assumptions."
Once he finished speaking, he moved out of the way so his visitors could come and join him inside. Brett, Travis, and Nancy tentatively stepped into the barn, glancing around curiously as they did. Brandon went back to work, picking up the bale of hay he had set down earlier and putting it in its proper place. He then went over to the water spigot and began filling a pail with the cool liquid.
"Do you know anything about the mysterious strangers appearing around town?" Nancy asked, walking up behind him. She pulled out her notepad, ready to jot down his answer.
The angels' ears perked up. Maybe now they would get some answers.
"They mean no harm," Brandon assured her.
"They made several statements to people, including myself," Brett said, recalling a visit he'd had the night of the church meeting. He'd offered a ride to one of the strangers unknowingly on his way to the church. The man had vanished as soon as he'd delivered his unusual message. "Scared the crap out of me. About someone important coming. Did they mean you?"
"I guess you'll have to ask them," the young man answered, though he seemed to know more than he was letting on.
Just as he shut off the water, the barn door suddenly swung open and Miss Macon made her way in, a tray with four full glasses balanced in her hands. "Who wants lemonade?" she offered, setting the tray on a stack of hay bales. She gave her new farmhand a pat on the shoulder. "Brandon here's a real handyman. Not like that lazy good-for-nothin' Nevin Sorrel."
"Now, now," Brandon said, claiming a glass and taking a sip. "We're all his children."
The angels gave each other a look. There was something off about this guy.
"Oh, right he is." The sweet, old lady smiled affectionately at the young man. "He has the true calling. Brandon's even gonna hold some good old-fashioned revival meetings right in this barn."
"Really?" The sheriff looked Brandon over with a sneering, judgmental eye. He just couldn't picture a guy that looked like that leading a revival.
Miss Macon nodded proudly, turning to leave. She reminded Brandon to lock up when he was done then disappeared out the door, humming happily to herself. But those words had roused Travis' interest. And the angels' as well.
Travis arched an eyebrow. "So you think you have a message people should hear?"
"Well, you should come see for yourself," Brandon answered smoothly. "Why don't you be the judge?"
"Are you planning to advertise your revival in our newspaper?" Nancy asked hopefully.
He inclined his head, considering her proposal. "Well, I rely more on word of mouth. But with your journalism background, I should probably hire you as my publicist."
She laughed shyly, her cheeks turning pink.
Brandon chuckled. "I'm serious. You could talk to lots of wonderful people far and wide." His demeanor suddenly changed and he looked her square in the eye with an intense gaze. It was almost as if he were looking into her very soul. "A lot better than those lonely nights spent in those lonely Internet chat rooms."
As he spoke, the angels felt everything around them grow cold. Something entered that barn. Something so dark and powerful that it made all their senses go haywire. Gloria winced, not used to this sort of sensory overload. Monica gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, letting her know that she felt it too.
Brandon held his hand out to the lonely reporter and she took it without hesitation. She gasped in surprise then the expression on her face melted into one of pure content. Brandon released her hand, satisfied, and approached the sheriff.
"Brett, about the growth in your cranial lobe?" He looked Brett straight in the eye, unafraid, which irked the man that was otherwise not easily intimidated. "No longer in remission."
Brett's jaw tightened. He felt as if his privacy had just been invaded. "I told my doctor to shut up about that."
"Fifty percent chance of survival even after operation. But you've never been much of a gambler, have you?" Brandon continued, giving him a knowing look. "So, you keep dulling the pain away with that discount aspirin eating away a hole in your stomach." He held out his hand to the dying man. "I can make those odds disappear forever."
Brett looked down at Brandon's outstretched hand then up at its owner, uneasy. But the desire to be well won out over reason and he grasped his hand. He took in a sharp breath then felt his ever-constant headache ease until it was completely gone. Brandon let him go and moved on to Travis.
By now, the angels were starting to feel very uneasy. They were witnessing something that was—should've been—impossible. This Brandon guy was a displaying a sort of power that no normal human could possess.
When Andrew saw Brandon heading for Travis, he disappeared from Monica's side and reappeared next to Travis, unseen by anyone but his friends…or so he thought.
"Well, it might not be as sensational as bringing a loved one back," Brandon began, walking up to the ex-minister. "Travis, I can help you." He sounded sincere. "All you have to do is ask."
"This isn't right, Travis," Andrew whispered, speaking to the man's heart. "Don't listen to him."
Travis eyed Brandon suspiciously. "How do you know my name?"
"If you have an open heart, anything is possible," Brandon responded, easily dodging the question. He held his hand out for the heartbroken man to take.
Travis gave him a look then lowered his gaze toward the hand he was offering.
"Travis, don't do this," Andrew pleaded, seeing the indecision in the man's eyes. "You know in your heart that everything about this is wrong. Listen to it."
Then something happened. Something that the angel of death would never forget. It happened in the fraction of a second. Brandon was looking at Travis and then suddenly he was looking straight at the angel. For one horrible moment his mad, blazing eyes burned into Andrew's, and the hatred he saw there froze him to the spot.
Then Brandon's eyes were on Travis again as if nothing had happened. Travis looked at the young man one more time, took a deep breath, and turned away. All three angels breathed a sigh of relief though Andrew was still shaken by the way Brandon had looked at him.
Brandon pulled his hand back, giving Travis an icy glare. "Well, I guess we're not all ready yet." He turned his back on them, his friendly demeanor waning. "You have to excuse me, I have to get back to work."
With the girls now down on the ground with Andrew, the angels watched as Brett, Travis, and Nancy exited the barn. Travis had a troubled look on his face while the other two seemed to be floating on cloud nine. Brandon had returned to his chores, hauling two pails of water in each hand toward the door. Monica couldn't help but watch him for a moment. Something about the young man seemed strangely familiar. But then her attention was drawn to her best friend who'd become very quiet ever since he'd gone to help Travis.
"Andrew, are you okay?" she asked.
The blonde angel turned to face her, still looking pretty shaken up. He seemed to have been truly frightened by something. "He looked at me…he looked right at me. He knew I was there."
"What???" Both girls stared at him in shock.
Tess suddenly appeared beside them. "I think it's time I told you the truth." A moment later, Rafael materialized next to her, a puzzled look on his face. "All of you."
None of the angels noticed the resentful look Brandon shot in their direction before leaving the barn.
Wow…did you really read all that? If you did, you're amazing! Really! What do you think is really going on? What will Tess tell them? Review for the answers!