Brimstone VS
Episode 313
"Child of Fire"
Written by Joel Rauch
With ideas by Derek Saul, 
Phil Gee, and Greg Lemieux


Chapter One: Death of an Innocent

Ezekiel Stone walked down the hallway.  To call it dirty 
would be kind.  The summer heat was stifling, oppressive 
and unmoving.  Competing odors of urine and mold were 
heavy in the air, a double assault that clung to the 
clothes of those who passed by.  In the thin light from 
the few bulbs that still burned dully, rats and roaches 
scampered through the litter, unafraid of their neighbors.  

Stone kicked at a passing rat.  Strictly a visitor, he was 
no signatory to the truce between man and rodent in effect 
here.  The rat dodged nimbly, then retreated to a safe 
distance and bared his teeth.  Its honor satisfied, the 
rodent ran off down the hall.

Stone recalled a mouse from nine months ago, one that had 
helped him stop Ashur Badaktu's plans of destruction on 
New Year's Eve.  It was the last time he'd seen her, as 
she jumped through a fifth story window to escape an 
impending explosion.  He'd been following her trail since 
then, and learned just how integral she'd been to the 
escape from Hell.  

Always staying one jump ahead of him, Ash had been moving 
frequently, changing apartments and houses every week or 
two.  He'd been looking for a pattern, doing real 
detective work again here in his hometown.  Finally, 
something had jumped out at him.  On three different 
apartment applications, she'd used this address as a 
reference, along with the name Gerry Rush as an old 
friend.  

A door opened behind him, and Stone turned casually.  A 
weathered black woman leaned into the corridor and stared 
at him.  Her empty eyes scanned him, attempting to 
classify him.  Stone met her gaze.  "You from Family 
Services?"  Stone shook his head.  "Baby cries all the 
time," she told him, nodding at a room farther down the 
hall.  "I raised 8 kids, ain't no call to ignore a young 
one like that."  Her wisdom imparted and her curiosity 
satisfied, she returned to her room.

Stone approached the door at the end of the hall, 
apartment 215.  He listened carefully.  No sound of an 
infant could be heard, but there was a faint squeaking in 
the background.  It wasn't the noise of the rodents who 
outnumbered the paying tenants in the building, but the 
rhythmic beat of lovemaking.

He ran his fingers around the jamb.  Some combination of 
his police experience and his increased hell powers told 
him there was a chain holding the door shut.  He tried the 
knob slowly and felt it turn smoothly.  His senses were 
heightened, every nerve alert as the door opened.  

The chain pulled taunt with a three inch gap in the 
opening.  Stone extended two fingers into the crack and 
touched them to the metal links.  He summoned the montage 
of memories that Ashur had shared with him nine months ago 
and concentrated.

A priori images appeared in his mind.  He recognized Arden 
Corvina, riding with a squad of soldiers, and Hector 
Runningwolf's hatred flooded through him.  He witnessed 
his fiancé rutting with his sister, he felt Lisa Kay 
Napoli's anger.  He arrived home from school to find his 
mother dead at his father's hand and experienced Rusty 
Chaine's fear.  

It was a wall of hard emotion, growing stronger and more 
fortified in his mind with each brick that he laid there.  
The first tendrils of smoke twisted upward from the chain.

Time had dulled the sharpness and effectiveness of the 
sequence.  He was forced to review the series twice before 
the stabs of anger and hatred raised his body temperature 
enough to melt the chain.  The links parted, and the door 
swung free.  Stone shook his left hand vigorously, willing 
the heat away.  His right dipped beneath his overcoat and 
drew his gun.  

*

The rhythmic creaking grew louder when he stepped inside.  
He found himself in a living room, with a kitchen off to 
one side.  There were three doors on the far wall; the 
middle led to a bathroom and the others to bedrooms.  

Stone surveyed the room.  The sink was filled with dirty 
dishes, and roaches could be seen crawling among the 
stacks.  Garbage bags were piled in a corner.  Several 
rats stared back at him from the kitchen counter.  One was 
the size of a small cat, its hairless tail a foot long.
 
The cleanest furnishing was the entertainment system that 
was on the wall across from the stained plaid couch.  The 
big screen television flashed scenes of a muted sitcom.  
Dozens of beer cans encircled the overflowing ashtrays on 
the coffee table.  

Gun at the ready, Stone followed the sounds to the bedroom 
farthest from the door.  The beat grew quicker as he 
approached and a woman began to moan.  As the passion 
reached its climax, Stone peered into the room and was 
shocked to see he recognized them.  

The woman was Elizabeth Napoli, his (her?) sister.  He 
(she?) recognized the curls of her brown hair, her high 
cheekbones, her wide open eyes as she realized they were 
caught.  The man turned, and he (she?) recognized Michael 
Fortino, his (her?) fiancé.  Michael, the first boy he'd 
(she'd?) kissed, the man he'd (she'd?) promised to marry, 
was sinning with Elizabeth.

The anger slammed into him like a wave, and he flinched at 
the impact.  But then Ash's influence faded; he blinked 
and the faces changed.  He hadn't been seen, it was just 
part of Lisa Kay Napoli's memories, triggered by his 
repeated use of the montage.  The man, no longer Lisa's 
fiancé, was slightly overweight and had tattoos on each 
arm.  He collapsed forward, exhausted.

The woman underneath him was plain, with tangled blond 
hair.  "Damn, Tad," she said.  "That was great."

"God, I love you, Gerry," Tad replied.  "Whadda we got for 
lunch?"

Stone rapped firmly on the door, startling the couple.  
"Don't move!"

Tad rolled over in the bed, away from the doorway, and 
froze when he saw the gun aimed in their direction.  "Hey 
man, it's cool, it's cool," he said.  "Take it easy with 
that thing."

Stone ignored him.  "Gerry Rush?" he asked the woman, who 
lay there calmly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm looking for someone.  Ashur Badaktu."  Gerry said 
nothing.  "She put you down as a reference.  Said you two 
go way back."

"Couple hundred years.  So?"

"Where is she?"

"You're Stone, right?  She said you'd be looking for her.  
I think she still loves you."  Stone shook his head 
slightly.  "It's a beautiful thing, love.  Tad's made me 
so happy these last few months.  Just let us go.  We're 
meant to be together; don't take me away from him."

"What are you talking about?" Tad asked her.  "Where you 
going?  We ain't done nothing, he can't arrest you."

"She's already been convicted," Stone answered.  "Last 
chance.  Tell me where Ash is."

"There is one thing I'd like to share with you," Gerry 
replied.  Her hand moved underneath the thin sheet that 
covered her.  "Here!"  She thrust it at him, a red ball of 
fire the size of a softball.  Flames trailed behind it as 
it shot across the room.

Stone ducked, but the fire struck him in the shoulder, 
igniting his coat.  He snatched at it, trying to smother 
it.  The momentary distraction was enough, and Gerry 
leaped from the bed, launching herself at Stone.

"Ash doesn't want to be found," she told him as they 
struggled.  Caught off guard, Stone found himself shoved 
backwards, bursting through the cheap plaster wall into 
the other bedroom.  

He slid across the floor and crashed into a crib.  The 
impact caused a flurry of activity, a hasty retreat by the 
creatures there.  The shove had killed the flames on his 
coat, but he patted at the burn marks while he stood up.

He looked inside the crib and immediately wished that he 
hadn't. 

Saying the infant was dead was like calling this building 
dirty.  The child was obviously undernourished, ignored 
even before the final attack by the hordes of vermin.  The 
rats had not been kind, searching for the tasty morsels of 
soft flesh in the cheeks and eyes.  Blood was spattered 
around, stained against the grimy sheets.  

Stone's eyes blazed with hellfire as the rage overtook him 
again.  This was one of the sickest and appalling things 
he'd ever witnessed, on Earth or in Hell.  The people 
responsible would pay.  This crime would not, could not go 
unpunished.

"Just go," Gerry was saying to Tad as Stone ran back 
through the hole in the wall.  "I'll handle this."

Stone grabbed Gerry by her dirty blond hair, and pulled 
her away from her lover.  "You bitch," he said, yanking 
her to the ground.  "How could you do that?"  He kicked 
her savagely.  "How could you let that happen?"  

Tad leapt across the room and tackled him, knocking him 
off balance, screaming, "Get away from her!  I'll kill 
you!"

Gerry clambered back to her feet and thrust a hand towards 
the hole in the wall.  Another fireball shot out, this 
time striking the baby's crib.

Wielding his supernatural strength, Stone threw Tad out 
into the living room.  The brief arc he traced ended with 
a tumble across the plaid couch.  

"Don't mess with my man!" Gerry cried, attacking Stone 
again.  She slammed him against a wall, holding him there 
with a vise like grip against his throat.  But her 
hundreds of years in Hell were no match for the rage that 
fueled Ezekiel Stone.  

He knocked her hand away, and she stumbled back two steps.  
It was all the room he needed.  He crossed his arms in 
front of him, hands and fingers out, straight as a blade.  
As Gerry staggered, he stepped in, raising his hands to 
eye level and uncrossed them with every ounce of strength.  
The scissoring motion passed through the sides of her 
head, tearing open her skull, destroying her eyes.  

Gerry screamed as she fell backwards onto the bed, arms 
and legs falling open as though ready to be taken by a 
lover.  Stone watched without pity as her earthly form 
collapsed, scorching the sheets.  "It's better than you 
deserve," he spat.  The soul, still producing a guttural 
cry, wailed as it descended into the earth, on its way 
back to Hell.  The scalding as Gerry's tattoo burned away 
came as pleasure, not pain.

"Gerry!" Tad howled, dashing toward the bed.  Although 
Stone couldn't see him coming, he swung his right fist out 
to the side and smashed him in the face.  Tad flopped onto 
his back.

Stone spun and knelt, dropping a strong hand over Tad's 
throat.  He gave enough slack to allow him to draw breath, 
but the tension strongly discouraged thoughts of an 
offensive move.  "Was it your child?" he asked 
dangerously.

"My wife's in Riker's," he admitted.  "I tole the stupid 
bitch to leave the brat at her mother's, what do I know 
about 'em?"

"You don't know enough to check when they cry?"  

"She cried all the time," Tad complained.  "I was tired of 
that.  Gerry, she didn't like to stop when we were goin' 
at it.  You know how it is, man.  I didn't mean for 
nothing to happen to Leta.  It was an accident."

"An accident?" Stone snarled.  "An accident is when you 
spill the milk.  This... was... murder.  Nothing less."

Tad turned his head as much as he could allow, catching a 
glimpse of the crib through the hole in the wall.  It was 
burning brightly now, engulfed in flames.  Tad laughed a 
thin sickly laugh.  "So much for your evidence."

Stone brought out his gun and pointed it at the man's 
head.  "You're guilty."

"What you gonna do?  Kill me?  I ain't like Gerry, I ain't 
never been convicted.  Never done time.  Innocent until 
proven guilty, and you can't prove it."  Tad allowed 
himself a smile, but then choked it off.  "Hey!  Hey!  
You're burning me, man!  Stop it!"

Stone yanked his hand away.  A red welt marked where he'd 
touched Tad's throat.  His eyes blazed with fire as he 
transferred the gun to his right hand and pressed it into 
Tad's forehead.  "You're going to Hell," he whispered, 
looking for the strength to pull the trigger.

The cocky smirk reappeared.  "Maybe.  But that's where 
Gerry is, right?  She was the best thing that ever 
happened to me.  What are you going to do, shoot me?  Come 
on, pal, you gonna shoot me?"  He dared Stone, "Shoot me.  
Come on."  

The words triggered a sensation of déjà vu for him.  He'd 
seen the same smirk and heard the same words two years 
ago, when Gilbert Jax had taunted Bill Nowack in his 
mother's backyard.  Nowack had been afraid to shoot, but 
Stone knew things that he didn't, things about the way 
justice really worked.

He fired five times.

	I was a cop...
	Then my wife was raped.
	I caught the guy who did it,
	And I killed him.
	Two months later I died,
	And went to Hell.
		(evil laughter)
	113 of the most vile creatures escaped.
		They think they'll beat the Devil
		Nobody beats me.
	So, how am I supposed to them back?
		The eyes, windows to the soul.
		Destroy the eyes, and the damned get a 
		 one-way ticket back home to Hell.
		But it's not Hell you should be scared of --
		It's losing your second chance at life on Earth.
	Time to give the Devil his due.


Chapter Two: A Strange Alliance

Rosalyn sat in the quiet of her room, charmed by the 
delicate breathing of her daughter.  Danielle lay quietly 
against her shoulder, her hunger sated and soothed by 
Roz's light rocking.  Roz stroked her child softly.  

Her mother, Susan King, was out for the day, shopping in 
New York City with her neighbor, Janet Miller.  Rosalyn 
had welcomed the chance to spend a peaceful afternoon 
bonding with her daughter.  She looked out the window to 
the front yard below, thinking of how much her life had 
changed in the last two weeks.  

She'd been widowed a second time.  Danielle's father and 
namesake had been possessed by some force beyond her 
comprehension, and tried to kill her and their unborn 
child.  He would have succeeded if not for the 
intervention of her first husband, Ezekiel Stone, returned 
from the grave.

He'd been lost to her for seventeen years, burning in Hell 
for granting a wish of hers; killing Gilbert Jax, the man 
who had raped her in their home.  She'd remembered him for 
all these years as a kind and gentle man, not knowing of 
his dark act.  And now he'd killed Dan, right in front of 
her.  It had been in defense of her, of course, but it was 
a hard thing to see.

A car pulled into the driveway; it was Zeke, come to visit 
her and Danielle.  She smiled as he got out of the 
borrowed car, happy to see him again.  His tread was slow 
and heavy; something was bothering him.  He let himself in 
and climbed the stairs to her room.  "Hi," she greeted 
him, her whisper clearly audible in the silence.  

He said nothing, but knelt in front of her without meeting 
her eyes.  Turning his face toward the window, he rested 
his head in her lap.  He wrapped his arms around her legs, 
hugging them tight, taking comfort in touching her again.

"What's wrong?" she asked.  She lowered her free right 
hand to caress his head.  "What is it?"

Still he remained mute.  There had been a night years and 
years ago when he had come home to her, troubled after 
witnessing a friend being shot.  She'd comforted him as 
best she could, and let him bleed every last drop of pain 
from his system.  

His body shook, as though he were sobbing.  Odd wisps of 
steam rose from his eyes, a side effect of his damnation.  
She said nothing more, only waited and held him, stroking 
his hair.  It pleased her that she could still reassure 
him, even after their long separation.  Holding her two 
greatest loves like this smoothed a rough patch in her 
heart, one she hadn't even known was disturbed.

Finally he spoke, although without meeting her eyes.  "Can 
you forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" she echoed.  "For what?"

"I killed him," he said vaguely.

"Who?" she asked.  

"Jax.  I did it for you.  I couldn't stand to see you 
hurting, knowing he was free.  It was the only way I could 
be sure he would never do it again."

"Look at me," she commanded.  Hesitant, he made eye 
contact.  "I love you for it.  There's nothing to 
forgive."

He hugged her legs tighter, their eyes locked.  "What 
about Dan?" he asked.

She looked away, shifting her focus to baby Danielle.  
"That's a little harder.  Dan really wanted to be there 
when she was born.  He was a good man, loving, caring.  He 
didn't do anything to deserve what happened."

"I know," Ezekiel admitted.  "If I'd gone to prison for 
killing Jax, I wouldn't have expected you to wait for me.  
You wouldn't have chosen Dan unless he was worth while.  
I'm sorry, Roz."

"I would have waited, my love," she said softly.  "I 
waited for years, hoping it wasn't true.  That it was all 
a bad dream, and one day you'd wake me up."  She let that 
stand for a moment, and then continued, "Dan was a 
widower.  I knew he still loved Alexis, at the same time 
he loved me.  And I still love him, even though he's gone, 
just like I cared for you all those years."

Stone was still quiet.  Although she hadn't come out and 
forgiven him for Dan's death, she sensed the barrier 
between them had a different cause.  "Something else is 
bothering you," Rosalyn observed.

"I met a man today," he began slowly.  "The things he let 
happen to his child, well, I can't even tell you.  He was 
scum, he was filth, the world would be a better place 
without him."

"Zeke," she said carefully.  "What did you do?"

"I was so angry.  Hell changed me, Rosalyn, and so has the 
job that I do.  I deal with guilty people, and I destroy 
them.  Finish them.  Remove from the Earth.  I make things 
better, I really do."

"Did you kill him?" she asked, already preparing a 
reaction if he said yes.

"I wanted to," he admitted.  "I was so close.  But I 
thought of you and Danielle, and I couldn't do it.  I 
wanted to, he deserved to die.  But I just fired into the 
wall.  I can't risk my second chance with you."

She stroked his head softly.  "Thank you."

"I have faith now, Rosalyn.  I believe justice will be 
done, in the end."

Rosalyn smiled down warmly at him and he basked in her 
love.

*

Later, they lay together on her bed, spooning and talking 
quietly.  Danielle was resting in her bassinet.  "Will it 
be over soon?" she wondered.

"I hope," he told her.  "I have a meeting tonight with a 
Cardinal of the Catholic Church.  I hope I can convince 
him to help me."

"If you explain things to him, I'm sure he will do all he 
can.  Proof of an afterlife!  You'd think that would be 
great for business."

Stone chuckled.  "We'll see.  I'm just glad I convinced 
you."

Roz thought for a moment.  "How do you know a Cardinal?"

"A friend of mine set it up, a priest.  Father Horn has 
been there for me almost since the beginning."

She reacted to the name.  "Father Horn?  From Los 
Angeles?"

"Yes.  Why?"

She turned to face him.  "Older, black, blind?"

"Right," Stone agreed.  "Why, do you know him?"

*

Cardinal Alan Taylor's office was sparsely furnished, but 
each of the decorations had been chosen with great care.  
Paintings hung on two walls, and shelves displayed various 
statues, mostly of bible scenes or Jesus himself.  Candles 
flickered in various locations.  The Cardinal himself was 
dressed in traditional robes.  

"What I'm asking for," Stone said, "is information.  
You've got priests everywhere across New England; Ash is 
somewhere nearby, I'm sure of it.  I need to know of 
anything suspicious or supernatural.  Time is running 
out."

"Oh yes," Cardinal Taylor said casually.  "The end of the 
world is coming."

"I don't know if it'll be the end of the world," Stone 
said, "but it'll be bad, trust me.  She's determined to 
kill God himself."

"Ah ha!  Then we have nothing to fear, for God is 
everlasting, and will prevail."

"I'm sorry to disagree with you, Father, but I have other 
information, from an Angel I've met and worked with.  He's 
told me that nothing is truly immortal.  Not even God."

"Blasphemous," Cardinal Taylor said, sitting back in his 
chair and looking at Stone across his desk.  Stone waited 
patiently.  

Father Horn broke the silence.  "He's telling the truth."

"Really?" questioned Cardinal Taylor.  "Forgive me for 
asking, but have you seen these beings that your friend 
describes?"

Father Horn knelt his head and touched his useless eyes.  
"Of course not.  In his wisdom, God has taken the gift of 
sight from me.  But I am able to recognize truth when it 
is presented to me, and what this man says is true."  He 
hesitated for a moment.  "I also believe his employer has 
confronted me."

"The Devil?" Stone asked.  This was the first he'd heard 
of it.  "When?"

"In Los Angeles."  To Taylor, "He tempted me.  Offered to 
return my sight, if I would follow him."  Again, he 
gestured to his eyes.  "You can see that I refused him."

"You say that you've met the actual Devil?"  He apprised 
the two men, considering.  "You understand I have heard 
such stories many times.  I would require proof to 
seriously consider making any of the Church's resources 
available to you."

"Like I said, I can't be hurt, unless my eyes are 
destroyed.  My heart doesn't beat; I don't need to 
breathe.  That should be proof, you can verify them easily 
enough."  Taylor said nothing.  Stone stood up.  "Watch."

He walked to a candle mounted on the wall and held his 
hand over it, unflinching, meeting the Cardinal's eyes.  
The Cardinal watched silently.  "I've seen fakirs do the 
same thing."  

"All right," Stone replied, casting his eyes around for 
another prop.  He settled for a knife.  "How about this?"  
He pushed the knife through his arm, the blade jutting out 
the opposite side.  

"In India, they push needles in one cheek and out the 
other."  

Stone replaced the knife, showing the blade had no blood 
on it.  "Feel my pulse," he offered, extending his wrist 
to the Cardinal.  

Skeptically, he wrapped his fingers around his Stone's 
wrist.  He felt around, but of course didn't find 
anything.  "A pool ball in the armpit, pressed against the 
artery, will do the same thing."

"You've got an answer for everything," Stone replied 
bitterly.  "What do you want from me?"

Still holding Stone's wrist, he slid the cuff of his coat 
back.  "These tattoos.  Explain them to me?"

"They're the names of the fugitives that are still free."

"You claim they disappear when you 'destroy the eyes?'"  
He turned Ezekiel's wrist from side to side, and scratched 
at it, as though it might be a fake.

"Right."

"That's the proof I would require," Taylor said, releasing 
his grip, and meeting Stone's eyes.

"You should have been there this morning," Stone 
complained.  "So, what, you want to follow me around, see 
what I do?"

Cardinal Taylor withdrew a business card from his desk.  
"No, not quite.  This is the man who will be my witness.  
He has great experience in this field.  Father Mitzer."

"John Mitzer?"  Father Horn asked, interrupting.

"Yes, that's right," Taylor answered.  He continued, "You 
can contact him, and make whichever arrangements that you 
wish.  I would suggest having him meet you the next time 
you plan to dispatch one of the fugitives.  When he is 
satisfied, you will have my support."

Stone accepted the card.  "Okay."  

"I'd like to speak to Father Horn for a moment, if you 
will excuse us," the Cardinal said.  

"Of course, thank you."

When the priests were alone, Taylor continued.  "This man, 
he speaks with great conviction."

"John Mitzer will not be an easy man to convince," Father 
Horn said.

"What concerns most me is his claim of being damned.  Has 
he made any attempts to redeem himself?  Has he confessed 
his sins, requested penance?"

"I have not know him to," Father Horn replied.  "I believe 
he considers this mission to be his penance.  He has 
always been respectful of the Church, and he might 
consider it sacrilegious to make a confession in his 
current state."

"Interesting," the Cardinal said.  "I look forward to 
Father Mitzer's report."

*

"Police arrested Tad Tharborough today, and charged him in 
the death of his one year old daughter.  He was found next 
to the body, apparently under the influence of drugs.  
This was the scene when police arrived."

The Channel 4 News showed a hand held camera filming 
inside the apartment.  Tad was naked, his genitals blurred 
on the screen, and hogtied on the floor of the baby's 
room.  His mouth moved, and saliva sprayed as he ranted, 
but the announcer talked over him.  

"Police are still looking for his live-in girlfriend, 
Gerry Rush, and it's expected that she will be charged as 
well.  She's about 35, five foot four..."

At the Hotel Mezzanine, Alexandra Gray used the remote to 
turn the TV off from behind the front desk.  TV news was 
too depressing.  She flipped idly through her law books, 
stacked next to her, and watched and waited to see if 
Ezekiel Stone would come in.  

There were so many questions that she had for him.  They'd 
been good friends for months; it bothered her that he 
hadn't confided in her.  These last two weeks, he'd been 
spending his free time with his wife.  

She wished there was something she could do to help him.  
He was a good man now, she thought, no matter what he did 
in the past.  If anyone deserved a chance at happiness, he 
did.  

The front door opened, setting off a chime.  Three men 
entered, single file.  

Right away, she had a bad feeling about them.  Something 
was off, not quite right about them.  Maybe it was the way 
they walked, or their blank expressions; whatever bothered 
her, she couldn't very well turn away customers if she 
wanted to keep her job.  "Hi, how are you tonight?" she 
asked.  

"Fine," the first one said.  He was a stocky man, in his 
thirties, with a buzz cut and a neatly trimmed goatee.  He 
approached the desk, trying on a smile. 

The other two men circled through the lobby, checking all 
the corners, noting the doors and the elevators.  It looks 
like they're casing the place, she thought, like bank 
robbers.

Alex slid a registration card towards the man.  "Just fill 
this out," she said.  

"No, I'm sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm 
looking for a friend of mine, I heard he was staying 
here."  His smile grew wider.

"I can call his room for you, if you like," she offered.  
Even before he spoke, she knew what name he would say.

"Ezekiel Stone, please."

"Of course," she replied, picking up the phone.  Thinking 
fast, she knew Room 209 was empty.  The man watched 
carefully as she dialed, memorizing the number.  "There's 
no answer," she told him.  "Can I take a message?"

"No, it's okay," the man answered.  "We'll run into him 
sooner or later, I'm sure.  Thank you."

Alex watched the three men walk away.  They were all 
wearing overcoats.  Stone was the only other person she 
knew that always wore a jacket, regardless of how hot it 
was.  Something about damned souls not being bothered by 
heat or cold.  He'd want to know about these guys as soon 
as he got in.  


Chapter Three: The Stakes

"I guess that went as well as could be expected," Father 
Horn said as he and Ezekiel Stone strolled through the 
church.  Father Horn's white cane flashed back and forth, 
constantly checking for obstacles in his path.  Stone 
walked casually beside him, also watching out for anything 
in his friend's way.

"Thanks for setting this meeting up," he replied.  "There 
are only a half dozen or so people who know about the 
damned souls... I really hadn't thought about bringing a 
large group of people in on the story, until you suggested 
it."

"I hope I'm able to help," the priest said.  "If I could 
see, I might be conflicted as to my place in helping 
return these creatures.  After all, God has seen fit to 
let them walk the earth; is it really our place to destroy 
them?"

"It's my place, I'm sure of that."  They approached the 
exit of the church, a large arched door, hewn of solid 
oak.  "Anyone else who helps, well, that's their own demon 
to wrestle with."

Stone pushed open the door, leading them out into the 
humid August night.  Standing there, just outside of the 
building, was the Devil.  He was dressed in his usual 
colors, dark shirt, dark tie, and he smiled broadly as he 
saw Ezekiel.

"God knows I have mine," Stone added, muttering under his 
breath.

"Just the man I was looking for," the Devil said, 
approaching him.  "Although you're not really a man, are 
you?  Just a shell, really.  No heartbeat, no pulse.  But 
somehow, you managed to get Ash knocked up."

"Ezekiel," Father Horn said, reacting to the voice.  "Is 
it...  is that who I think it is?"

"Yeah." Stone agreed.  "I'd introduce you, but I think you 
two know each other."

"Forget about the old man, Mr. Stone," the Devil 
commanded.  "You don't realize that you've done, do you?  
What Ash's child will do?  The system of checks and 
balances, good and evil, heaven and hell, all of it is at 
risk.  Because of your meddling, your interference."  He 
waggled a finger at Stone.  "This was part of your little 
rebellion over New Year's, wasn't it?"

"Why bring this up now?  Why wait until the last minute?  
Although, I guess procrastination is your domain, right?"

The Devil was aghast.  "'Procrastination is my domain,'" 
he mocked.  "How many times have to come face to face with 
her?  You could have destroyed her, if you'd wanted to.  
You're the one who's put things off.  Well, this is it, 
Mr. Stone.  Put up or shut up."  Then, as an afterthought, 
"You know, if she succeeds, all deals are off."

"What?"

The Devil chucked, enjoying Stone's undivided attention.  
"I appreciate your confidence in me, but second chances 
aren't my game.  Our deal is contingent on the approval of 
the man upstairs... and Ash wants to take Him out of the 
picture."  The Devil grinned.  "Without Him, there's no 
second chance for you."

"What do you think Ash will do to you when she has the 
chance?"  Stone asked.  The Devil's smirk faded.  "Tell me 
where she is, and I'll end this tonight."

"Oh, no.  I'm not going to make it easy on you, no matter 
what the stakes are."

"You don't expect me to go door to door all over the 
state, do you?  How about a clue?"

The Devil considered for a moment.  "A man.  A plan.  A 
canal."

"What?"

"Panama!" the Devil finished.  With that final thought, he 
disappeared. 

*

Stone sat in a small diner, watching people pass by on the 
street just outside the window.  The expressions he saw on 
people's faces were blank at best, but most were tightly 
pinched, from stress, anger, or just a defensive reaction 
to those around them.  

A mother with a young child walked by.  The boy had been 
scrubbed clean, and wore nice clothes; perhaps they were 
on their way to apply at a school or pave a picture taken.  
Whatever the destination, the child's face was smiling and 
blissful.  He was happy to be alive, experiencing the joy 
of youth.  And then they were past the window.

What would Leta Tharborough have grown up to be like?  He 
closed his eyes, trying to shut out the image of her 
corpse.  The revulsion to the death of the child was acid 
in his mouth.  

His mission weighed heavily on him.  His son could not be 
allowed to come into existence.  Ash's pregnancy had to be 
aborted, for the safety of the universe.  And if he 
failed, if their child was brought into the mortal plane, 
the very crime he had so despised yesterday would fall to 
him.  He would have no choice; he would be forced to 
sacrifice his own son to save the world.

"Here's your breakfast," the waitress said, knocking away 
his thoughts.  She slid a plate of eggs, toast and bacon 
onto his table.  

"Thanks," he said.  She refilled his coffee and departed.

He'd just begun to eat when his guest approached his 
booth.  "Ezekiel Stone?" 

Stone sized up the man with the white collar.  Father 
Mitzer was in his fifties, with a solid head of white 
hair.  He stood straight, his green eyes warm and 
friendly, just like his tone.  "Father Mitzer?  Have a 
seat."

John Mitzer slid into the booth, shaking Ezekiel's hand 
firmly.  "Thanks for meeting me," Stone said.

"I was told time was an issue, so I've cleared my schedule 
for the next few days.  I trust that should be enough time 
to conclude this?"

"It should be."

"I'd like to be up front with you, Mr. Stone.  I'm a 
skeptic in this case, and the burden of proof rests 
entirely with you.  I can't even count how many frauds 
I've exposed over the years.  There have always been con 
men hoping to help themselves to the church's wealth; I 
assure you, you won't succeed by trying to pass yourself 
off as an angel."

Stone was a little surprised at the hostility.  "I never 
said I was an angel," he replied, defensive.

"Okay," Mitzer affirmed, removing a battered notebook from 
a pocket and opening it to a blank page.  'Not an Angel' 
he wrote in tiny block letters, then looked back up to 
Stone.  "What else would you like to tell me?"

*

"So, do you think things will work out this time?"

Detective Sophia D'Amato smiled at the question.  "I do," 
she answered.  Her fellow police officer and friend, Dee 
Wright, smiled back.  "Will's changed.  He's really opened 
up to me these last few weeks."

"That's great, Sophia," Dee said, leaning against Sophia's 
desk in the station house.  "You two look so happy 
together."  

"We are."  Sophia stood up from behind her desk, and Dee 
followed suit.  

William Kane, Detective from the eleventh precinct, came 
into the room, scanning it quickly, and then walking 
towards her.  Dee spotted him first.  "Speak of the 
devil."

"Hi, Will," Sophia greeted him casually.  "We were just 
talking about you."

"Good things, I hope," he replied.

"Of course.  What's up?"

"I came by to see if you wanted to have lunch."

"I'll talk to you later," Dee said, excusing herself.  
"Nice seeing you again, Will."

"Lunch is good," Sophia replied.  "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion.  Just thinking of you."

She smiled.  "That's sweet.  Okay, let's go."

*

Outside, as they walked down the steps, out of earshot of 
anyone who might be listening, Kane said, "I lied."

"What?"

"We're not going to lunch.  Alex called, and she's worried 
about Stone."

"Alex?"

"The desk clerk, over at his hotel.  Says he didn't come 
home last night.  And there were a bunch of strange guys 
asking for him."

Sophia signed.  "You promised me lunch, but I guess I'll 
take a rain check.  Don't think I'll forget, though."

*

In the town of Maxell, New York, a young woman addressed a 
priest.  They were seated together in a pew, beneath a 
statue of Jesus hanging on the cross.  "What troubles you, 
my child?"

"Father, is suicide always a sin?"

"Always, my child.  Your soul would be banished to Hell 
for all of eternity.  No matter how bad things seem here, 
Hell will be worse."

"I know, Father.  I was raised Catholic.  But I was hoping 
you could help clarify what exactly is and isn't suicide.  
If a man held me prisoner, and promised to kill me if I 
tried to escape, would it be suicide if I attempted to get 
away?"

"Of course not.  You wouldn't be killing yourself."

"But my actions would lead directly to the end of my 
existence.  Would I be damned for that?"

There was a heavy silence.  "Taking your own life is a 
mortal sin, no matter what round about way you do it."

"I understand."  She looked up at the crucifixion statue, 
at the tormented look on Jesus' face.  "But what if it's 
to protect others?  What if was to stop the end of the 
world?  Could one still get to heaven?"

The priest smiled warmly to her.  "My child, have faith in 
God's justice.  Obey Him and His commandments, confess 
your sins, and He will welcome you with open arms."

*

"Tell Susan I said hi," Stone said, speaking into a small 
black cell phone as he entered the Hotel Mezzanine.  
Several cars were parked out front, including an old 
station wagon.  "I love you, Roz."  He smiled at her 
reply.  "Bye."

He flipped the phone shut and tucked it into an inside 
pocket, then looked up.  William Kane, Sophia D'Amato, and 
Alexandra Gray were all waiting for him.  "What?" he 
asked, in response to their stares.

"Where have you been?" Alex demanded.  "I've been worried 
sick."

"Any leads on Ash?"  Will asked.  

"Not yet," Stone answered, ignoring the Alex's glare.  "I 
couldn't get anything from Gerry Rush.  Father Horn set up 
a meeting for me with the church last night; it didn't go 
too bad.  I've got to convince one of their priests, and 
then we'll get their help.  But he wants to see an actual 
damned soul get returned."

"So do I," added Alex.

Everyone ignored her.  "So, how do we do that for him?" 
Sophia asked.

Stone flashed the cell phone.  "They gave me this phone to 
use."

"A cell phone!  Welcome to the twenty-first century, 
Zeke!" Alex joked.

"I'll give him a call when everything is in place," Stone 
continued.  "I got the impression he's just looking for 
any reason to pass this off as a hoax, so everything needs 
to go smoothly."

"Do we have any suspects?" Sophia wondered.  "Where do we 
start?"

"The Devil gave me a clue," Stone explained.  "It was 
about a man, and the Panama Canal."

"Theodore Roosevelt?" Alex said.  

"Roosevelt Island?" suggested Kane.

"That's what Rosalyn came up with last night," Stone 
agreed.  "I was going to head out there next."

"Zeke, don't you want to hear about the strange men 
looking for you yesterday?" Alex said.

"Who were they?" Stone asked.

"Oh sure, now I get your attention.  You know, I could 
help you out more, if you'd let me."

"Just tell him about the three men," Sophia said.

"Fine," Alex pouted.  "They were all wearing overcoats, 
like yours, and they acted real suspicious.  Like they 
were going to rob the place."

"And they asked for me?" Stone said.

"Yeah.  I knew you weren't in, so I called an empty room 
instead, so they didn't get your room number.  What do you 
want me to do if they come back again?"

"Just call my room, I'll come down," Stone said.  What 
makes you think they're related to the damned souls?"

Alex leaned forward over the desk, lowering her voice.  "I 
got that vibe from them, you know?  That same one you give 
off."

"What's that?" Kane asked.

Alex sighed.  "It's just this feeling I get sometimes.  
I've always gotten it from Mr. Mystery here, but sometimes 
it doesn't mean anything.  Like that woman, Arden Corvina?  
Nothing was strange about her."

Slowly, Stone told her, "Arden Corvina was a damned soul."

"What!!" Alex yelled.  

"When else have you had this feeling, Alex?"

"That old guy who gave me the cross, the one with the 
funny name.  Luskus Delph."  The realization hit her.  
"You told me to leave.  You were going to kill him."  

"It's not killing.  It's just returning them to where they 
belong."

"And there was another guy who came in, asking about you.  
Funny looking, said someone told him that you two looked 
alike.  I never saw him again, but he gave off the same 
vibe."

Stone exchanged a glance with the two detectives.  "I 
think she might be on to something."

"Sounds that way," Kane said.

"Finally, something to our advantage," Sophia said.  
"Alex, does this 'sense' of yours have a range?"

Alex shrugged.  "I've never really paid attention to it 
before.  I didn't know it meant anything, you know?"

"Can you remember anyone else that you've had this feeling 
about?" Sophia asked.  "Anyone, anywhere that might be a 
lead?"

"Hmmm..." Alex said.  "Oh!  There's a bar uptown.  The 
bartender there."

"Where at?  What's his name?" Sophia wanted to know.

"I'll show you," Alex promised.

"Aren't you working right now?" Stone pointed out.  "We'll 
go check out Roosevelt Island first, and come back after 
work."

"It's not problem," she replied.  "I'll get someone to 
cover for me.  Rob owes me a favor, let me call him.  She 
picked up the phone and dialed.


Chapter Four: The Hunt Begins

Alexandra, Ezekiel, William, and Sophia climbed out of the 
taxicab.  "Eighteen fifty," growled the driver, and Kane 
paid him.  

"Here it is," Alex said, pointing.  "This is where he 
works.  Palindrome."  The name was written in neon letters 
across the windows.  

Stone stared at the brightly lit sign for a minute.  
"Which one's a palindrome?" he asked.  "Is that where you 
rearrange the letters to make different words?"

"That's an anagram," Alex answered.  "A palindrome is a 
word or sentence the same forward and backward.  Like 
'Murder for a jar of red rum.'"

"A man, a plan, a canal.  Panama," Stone said, slowly 
repeating the Devil's clue.  "It fits.  It's a 
palindrome."

"So, this is the right place?" Kane said.

"Alex, I promise never to doubt your hunches again," Stone 
told her.

She beamed.  "You buy the first round, and all is 
forgiven!"

*

The bartender, Khalid, was an olive skinned man with dark 
bushy eyebrows.  Alex talked flirtatiously with him, while 
the others rested at a table in the back, sipping their 
drinks.  

"These prices are terrible," Kane complained, taking a 
swig from his amber bottle.

"A lot more expensive than Mario's," Stone agreed.  "Too 
bad we got kicked out of there.  I liked that place."

"Speaking of expensive," Sophia said, "I just got my car 
out of the shop.  You are never allowed to drive it 
anywhere, ever again."

Stone held up his hands in apology.  "I said I was sorry."

Alex returned to the table.  "I got his number," she said 
proudly.  "He actually seems like a nice guy."

"You think he's marriage material or something?" Sophia 
wondered, stirring her drink.

Alex flipped a folded bar napkin at her.  "Trace the 
number, and you'll find out where Khalid lives.  Then we 
can stake it out."

"Not bad," Stone said.  "But we can handle it.  It could 
be dangerous.  You should go back to the hotel.

"Hey, Zeke, I came this far," she argued.  "I got his 
number.  I want to be there for whatever happens next."

Stone slowly nodded in agreement.  Alex flashed a winning 
smile, then turned serious again.  

"He gets off in two hours," she said.  "We'd better move 
fast."

Sophia got out her cell phone and started dialing.  "I'll 
get on it," she said.

* 

Outside the bar, Stone waved for a cab.  One immediately 
cut across two lanes of traffic and pulled over, hitting 
the curb and ending up with two wheels on the sidewalk.  
Stone climbed in the back seat, speaking as he did, "My 
friends will be right out.  Just wait here for a moment."

Ignoring him, the taxi leapt back into traffic.  A 
familiar voice said, "So you figured it out, Mr. Stone.  I 
was sure you'd be running around for days, looking into 
canals."  

"Hey," Stone protested, "Let me out.  I've got work to 
do."

"We're only going around the block," the Devil reassured 
him.  "I just want to talk with you for a moment.  We 
never seem to have any private time anymore.  You're 
always hanging out with your new friends.  Really, it 
hurts, sometimes, Mr. Stone."

"What do you want?" Stone shot back, ignoring his rant.

"I just wanted to give you a friendly warning about your 
quarry.  You don't know anything about him."

"So what else is new?" Stone complained.  

"Khalid was a fierce warrior in his day," the Devil 
explained, taking a right turn.  "He fought off the 
Christians who invaded Constantinople, 800 years ago.  He 
slaughtered hundreds before finally falling.  Think twice 
before going after him, Mr. Stone." 

"Sometimes I wonder if you want Ash to succeed," Stone 
suggested.  "Maybe you turned a blind eye to her escape, 
knowing she might be able to do what you never could; get 
back into Heaven."

"It's a boring place," the Devil said.  "It's too white, 
not enough color there.  And the harps; very annoying.  
I've thought about making them one of my tortures down 
below, but He'd probably complain about copyright 
infringement.  Forget Heaven.  Better to reign in Hell, 
I've always said."

"Even better to have both, right?  That thought ever cross 
your mind?"  Running a yellow light, the Devil pulled a 
sharp right turn that sent Stone sprawling in the back 
seat.

"You really should wear your seatbelt, Mr. Stone," gloated 
the Devil.  He steered the cab back in front of The 
Palindrome; Alex, Sophia, and Will were standing there.  
"No charge," he said.

Stone climbed out of the cab.  As soon as his first foot 
hit the sidewalk, the cab pulled away, tumbling him to the 
ground.

"Where'd you go?" Will asked.  

"A test drive," Stone replied, standing and brushing 
himself off.  "Let's take a different cab."

*

The address they arrived at was a huge apartment complex, 
reminiscent of ancient fortresses.  Sheathed in brick, the 
structures were six stories tall, and encircled a large 
center courtyard.  

"He's in building three," Sophia said.  

"We've got twenty minutes until Khalid is off work," Alex 
said.  "and another twenty until he arrives home.  Let's 
get a look around."

"Father Mitzer will be here in thirty," Stone said.  "Keep 
an eye out for him."

They were cutting through the courtyard, walking in pairs, 
Stone and Kane, Sophia and Alex behind them.  Children 
played, enjoying the final weeks of summer vacation.  

A woman strolled toward them.  She wore a short red skirt, 
and a thin blouse.  Stone and Kane were transfixed, 
staring as they approached her.  She smiled at them, 
perhaps hinting availability.  

"Stone," Alex hissed.  "Look at her!"

"What?" Stone asked.  The warning was too late.  With a 
snarl, she attacked, lunging at them.  She grabbed Stone 
by the jacket and shoved him into Kane, both men falling 
backward.

"She's one of them!" Alex finished as she backed off.  
Sophia's gun was out already, aiming for the eyes as the 
woman advanced.  

Stone picked himself up just in time to see Sophia fall 
backward, knocked down by their attacker.  He charged her, 
striking her in the back.  Her arms flailed as she tried 
to regain her balance, Stone snatched them and pulled them 
behind her back, twisting her limbs as high as he could.

"Kane," he called, struggling to hold the woman immobile, 
"Shoot her!"  Kane was still getting up from the fall, and 
fumbled with his gun.

He had her pinned, Stone thought.  But her figure blurred, 
holding its rough shape but losing all the details.  When 
the focus returned, she was facing him, staring right at 
him.  The gleam in her eye was that of amusement.   

Now her arms could bend, and she jerked them apart.  Stone 
tried to hold onto them, and succeeded.  But with his arms 
spread wide, he was completely unprepared for the knee to 
the groin.  She hit him squarely and he crumpled to the 
ground.  

Alex was still watching from a safe distance, afraid to 
engage herself in this fight.  Kane and Sophia had moved 
around the woman, twenty feet off, weapons aimed, trying 
to force her back against one of the walls.  

"Ready, Will?" Sophia called, needing some contact with 
him.

"Ready," he answered back, his voice strong.  

They began to move forward, forcing the woman to either 
retreat or come at them.  She chose the latter, rushing at 
Kane.  "Hold it," he called.  Behind her, in his line of 
fire, were several children on the playground.  Unwilling 
to take the chance of a shot going wild, he stood his 
ground as she reached him.  

The woman reached across and grabbed his gun hand with her 
left, raising it up, pointing the barrel harmlessly into 
space.  She made a fist with her right hand and punched 
Kane in the jaw, underneath the bridge their arms formed.  
He began to fall backward, losing his balance. 

She crooked her right arm and brought it upwards, pulling 
Kane's gun arm down with her left.  The two met with a 
great force and a loud snap.  Kane allowed himself a short 
scream when his forearm broke.  Finally, he released his 
grip on the gun.  The woman was already kicking out, her 
red skirt flashing, and her foot caught him in the ribs.  

Kane continued to fall, throwing his good arm back in an 
attempt to break his tumble.  Quick as lightning, she 
struck out with her left hand, the one holding Kane's gun.  
The handle caught him in the temple.  When he hit the 
ground, he lay still.  

Sophia had not waited to see the result of the fight; she 
had run up behind the attacker and had had her own weapon 
pointed at the back of the woman's skull.  The first shot 
blasted through her left eye from behind, effectively 
shattering it.  

Crying out, the woman whirled on Sophia.  A spinning kick 
caught Sophia in the midsection, and their attacker turned 
and fled, clutching her wounded eye.

Stone was over Sophia in a split second.  "I'm going after 
her," he yelled.  "Stay here with Will and Alex."  Without 
waiting to hear her response, he ran into building four, 
thirty seconds behind the woman in the red skirt.

*

Inside, there was a long corridor in front of him, and 
stairs immediately to the left.  He chose the stairs and 
bounded up them two at a time.  There was a loud clamoring 
from upstairs, and he knew he was headed in the right 
direction.

On the fourth floor he stopped.  He thought of submarine 
warfare, how enemy positions were marked with circles, a 
perimeter centered on the last point of contact and 
expanding at best possible speed.  She could be anywhere 
now.

Her abandoned shoes rested on the stairs leading up to the 
fifth floor.  Was it a feint, to fool him into going the 
wrong way?  Or was she trying to lure him upstairs into an 
ambush?  Carefully, he made his way upstairs, gun at the 
ready.

He saw nothing on the fifth floor, and decided to go up to 
the sixth, and work his way back down.  Taking his time, 
he worked his way up, peering around the corner to see if 
it was clear.  No one was there.

The roof access was locked with an unbroken padlock, so he 
made a quick search of the sixth floor, scanning for 
broken doors or other signs of violence.  Then he returned 
to the fifth floor.   

He had just started down the hall when he heard a footstep 
behind him.  He whirled, ready to fire.

It was Alexandra.

"Zeke, it's me!  Don't shoot!" she whispered.

He lowered the gun fast.  "Don't sneak up on me like 
that," he said. 

Alex pointed down.  "She's on the fourth floor," she said 
quietly.  "I can tell."

"Lead the way," he replied.  As they went down the stairs, 
he asked, "How's Kane?"

"Don't know.  Ambulance is on its way," she told him.  
Softly, she added, "Hopefully, he's just unconscious."

The room Alex led them to was in the center of the 
hallway, right across from the elevators.  "Stand back," 
he whispered.  "I'm going in."  Taking a deep breath, he 
prepared to kick in the door.  

Alex waved furiously at him, telling him to stop.  "What 
is it now?" he demanded.

"Remember how you promised never to doubt my hunches?"  He 
nodded.  "There's three of them coming up, right behind 
you!"  She pointed to the elevator.

The lighted numerals above the door continued to climb, 2, 
3, 4.  There was a ding, and the doors began to open.


Chapter Five : New Allies

Stone got on one knee, aiming his gun at the opening 
elevator doors.  Alex backed up down the hall.  

The doors opened, and Stone held his fire.  "Lukas?" he 
asked, lowering his gun.

Three men stepped out of the elevator.  "You know them?" 
Alex asked.  "These were the guys looking for you at the 
hotel."

"Stone?" Lukas asked.

"Yeah," he said.  "These are friends of mine from LA.  
Lukas, Khris, and Scarecrow, this is Alexandra."

Her eyes shifted across the faces of the three men, still 
unsure who they were.  Still, she trusted Stone's 
judgment.  "Call me Alex," she told them.  "You're...?"

"They're angels," Stone summarized, "sent to track down 
rogues who have left heaven."

Khris wasn't happy to see him.  "Stone, you can go home.  
The professionals are here now, we'll handle this."

"Wait a minute," Lukas said.  "Stone, who are you looking 
for?"

Stone gestured toward the door behind him.  "There's a 
woman right through there, she attacked us outside.  Now, 
I didn't get her name,"

"Hephzibah," Scarecrow supplied.

"Hephzibah?  That's a mouthful.  Okay," Stone continued, 
"She messed up Kane pretty bad.  I'm not walking away."

Lukas took him to one side and spoke quietly with him.  
"She's a rogue angel," he explained.  "A powerful one, 
too.  We think she's working with Ashur, but we don't know 
for sure.  Most of them are."

"How many?"

"Too many," Lukas said.

"Look, let's work together on this.  She doesn't know 
you're after her, just me.  You can still have the element 
of surprise."

Lukas nodded.  "What exactly are you suggesting?"

Stone glanced around the hallway.  His eyes fell on a fire 
hose coiled near the elevator.  "I think I've got a plan."

* 

Up on the roof, Alex and Stone stood near the edge.  The 
fire hose had been unrolled, and Stone held the nozzle in 
his hand.  "You tied this off good?" he asked her.

She nodded.  "Zeke, you sure about this?"

"Yep."  He glanced over the side, looking at the ground 
six stories below.  "Wish me luck."

With that, he leapt off the building.  The hose guided his 
descent, forcing him into an arc that terminated in 
Hephzibah's window.  He broke through into her apartment, 
shattering the glass.

*

In the hall on the fourth floor, the three angels waited 
with their guns drawn.  The sound of breaking glass was 
clearly audible.  "He's in," Khris said.

*

It only took a second for Stone to get his bearings, but 
it was enough time to Hephzibah to attack.  Her injured 
eye had healed; she was at full strength again.  She'd 
been waiting, expecting entry at the door, but quickly 
whirled on him.

"You fool," she said, punching him.  Stone was knocked 
back two steps.  He went for his gun, but she grabbed it 
and twisted it away from him.

Disarmed but undaunted, Stone charged at her, driving her 
back into a set of shelves.  They collapsed, dumping 
various knickknacks to the floor.  

Hephzibah wrapped her hands around his throat, he did the 
same to her.  She spun him around, slamming him into the 
wall.  

*

In the corridor, the wall shuddered with the impact.  
"Should we go in after her?" Scarecrow asked. 

Lukas shook his head.  "Give him a minute," he said.  
"He'll flush her out."

The door to her apartment exploded, wood shards spraying 
everywhere.  Stone flew out, stopping only when he hit the 
elevator doors on the far wall.  He slumped there, 
weakened by the impact.
 
"Tag," he told the waiting angels, "Your turn."

Hephzibah leapt through the doorway, trailing blue fire.  
She landed in front of Stone, ready to finish the job.

"Hey," Khris called.  She turned, seeing the three angels 
waiting.  Recognition of her defeat blossomed in her eyes 
just before they opened fire.  The first two shots were 
successful, and the windows to her soul were punctured.  

She screamed as blue light burst out of her sockets, and 
continued to shriek as her form collapsed.  It melted into 
the floor, gaining speed as it rushed downward.

"Nice job," Scarecrow said.  He offered a hand to Stone 
and helped him up.  

"Thanks," Stone answered, brushing himself off.  "Now you 
owe me one."

"We don't owe you anything," Khris shot back.

"Hey," Lukas said, "I'll handle this."  To Stone, he 
asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"There's a damned soul in the complex too, the one we came 
here for.  I want your help with him."

Lukas shrugged.  "As long as we're here," he said.  "We 
can do that."

Alex came down the stairs and rushed over to the group.  
"Did it work?"

Scarecrow grinned at her, holding up a hand for a high 
five.  "Scratch one rogue angel," he told her.

* 

Back out in the courtyard, the angels rested on benches, 
basking in the afternoon sun.  Alex paced, as Stone spoke 
into his cell phone.  "Okay, I'll check back with you, 
Sophia.  Tell Will to hang in there.  We're doing okay." 
He punched a button and ended the call.

"Kane's going to be all right," he told Alex.  "Broken 
arm, and a concussion.  They're going to keep him 
overnight, but he should be out in the morning."

"Good," Alex said.  She stopped walking back and forth, 
and seated herself on a bench next to Lukas.  

"Father Mitzer should be here any minute," Stone said.  
"Remember, he's got to witness this."

"No problem," Lukas said, brushing at his goatee.  Khris 
scowled.  "We're happy to help."

"So you guys are angels?" Alex asked.  "What's heaven 
like?  What's God like?"

Lukas thought for a moment.  "God is great," he said 
simply.  

"So why are angels leaving him?  Why do they go rogue?"

"Different reasons.  Boredom, sometimes.  Right now, some 
are betting Ashur will succeed, and they want to be on her 
side."  To Stone, he said, "If you hadn't stopped that 
escape attempt last month, even more would have deserted.  
It's never been this bad before."

"Hephzibah is the fourth one we've hunted down this week," 
Scarecrow added.

"Does Ash have angels with her now?" Stone asked.  

Lukas nodded.  "Two, at least.  Obadiah, surprisingly.  
He's from the second circle, very powerful."

Khris spit on the ground.  "Servant of God, my ass," he 
said.

"That's what his name means," Scarecrow explained to Alex.  
"For millennia, he was one of the most faithful.  His 
defection inspired others."

"Like Nasya," Lukas said.  "Another grigori.  We believe 
she's at Ash's side constantly now, helping prepare for 
the birth.  I knew her, before.  She took the role of 
healer, here on earth.  A kind and gentle soul.  I don't 
understand her decision, but God's rules are clear.  She 
must be returned for judgment."

"So you know where Ash is?" Stone asked eagerly.

Lukas shook his head.  "She's moving every few days.  She 
knows everyone is looking for her.  She'll give birth any 
day now.  And when she does..."

"I think we should work together," Alex said.

"I agree," Stone said, addressing Lukas.  "Ash is my 
responsibility, I'm clear on that.  But since you're 
looking for Nasya and Obadiah, we should be able to join 
forces."

The three angels exchanged glances, quickly conferring and 
reaching an agreement.  Khris seemed less than pleased 
with the decision.  "As long as you understand the damned 
are yours," Lukas said.  "Our mission has strict rules.  
But the child of fire threatens everyone."

"Done," Stone confirmed.  He held out his hand, and Lukas 
shook it solemnly.  

Across the courtyard, Father Mitzer walked toward them.

"The priest is here," Stone said.  "Anything I shouldn't 
tell him?"

Lukas shrugged.  "Tell him whatever you like.  You're not 
bound by our rules."

"Mr. Stone," Father Mitzer called as he arrived at the 
benches  "Good to see you again."  He glanced over the 
strangers.

Stone shook his hand.  "Father, hello."  He made 
introductions, establishing only names for the angels.  
Mitzer took out his notebook and wrote them down 
carefully.  

"You said you had a demonstration arranged?"

Stone glanced to Alex, who shook her head, saying Khalid 
hadn't arrived yet.  "His name is Khalid," he began.  
"I've been told he was one of the defenders of 
Constantinople, 800 years ago."

Lukas looked startled at the name.  "Khalid?"

"Right," Stone confirmed.  

"He's a hell of a fighter," Lukas said.  "He defeated a 
Grigori who joined the crusades."

This caught Mitzer's attention.  He stopped writing in his 
notebook and asked skeptically, "You're saying angels 
fought in the Crusades?"  

Lukas nodded.  "Many were banished to Earth for succumbing 
to temptation.  Some misguided souls thought the Crusades 
would be a way to curry God's favor, and perhaps return to 
Heaven.  Corydon was one of them."

Scarecrow took up the story.  "Khalid was there when the 
walls of Constantinople were breached.  He wielded a one 
hundred pound scimitar, named Anwar.  He held back the 
advance, single handed, for a few moments, killing left 
and right.  But then Corydon entered the city.

"The two greatest warriors from each side fought for an 
hour, battle raging all around them.  Corydon found almost 
every attack he made was parried.  His greatest 
inflictions were mere scratches, drawing less blood than a 
mosquito.  But as the sun lowered, Khalid began to weaken.  
Corydon pressed on, and finally ran him through.  He stood 
there, Khalid impaled on his sword, enjoying the victory.  
But Khalid made one last attack, arcing Anwar high over 
his head, splitting open the skull of Corydon.

"Anwar means 'shafts of light' in Arabic, which is what 
appeared as the windows to Corydon's soul were shattered.  
The battle halted, and everyone watched as his soul was 
destroyed.  The defenders recovered the sword, which they 
thought had mystical power.  Even now, it is showcased in 
Istanbul."

"And what happened to Corydon?  Did he return to heaven?" 
Alex asked.

"Hell, no," Khris answered.  "The slaughter of His 
children wasn't taken as a compliment.  Corydon was sent 
to Hell."

"All right, we're off topic here," Stone said.  "Let's get 
back to Khalid.  He's in building three, apartment 212.  I 
want Khris, Lukas, Alex at the east stairwell.  Father 
Mitzer, I want you and Scarecrow following him as soon as 
he comes near.  Don't get too close, just be casual.  I 
want you to hit him just as he enters his apartment.  Get 
him inside and we'll be right behind you.  We'll take him 
out, Father Mitzer will witness, and it's bye bye Khalid."

"You make it sound easy," Khris said.  "But we're strictly 
backup.  Scarecrow can't take point like that."

"I'll take that chance," Scarecrow insisted.  "Sounds like 
a good plan."

"Okay, let's get ready," Stone said.

"One thing," Father Mitzer said to Stone.  "The tattoo.  I 
must witness its disappearance."

"We might have a small snag there," Stone said.  "I don't 
know which one represents Khalid's name."

Father Mitzer raised his eyebrows.  "So, how do you 
propose I verify what you claim is a supernatural event?"  

Stone shrugged.  "How's this?  I'll take my shirt off.  As 
soon as it starts to burn, you'll know what to look at."

"No, I'm afraid that's not acceptable," Mitzer told him.  
"I insist on examining the tattoo as it is currently.  
Allowing you to 'call it' later is not proof."

"I don't know which one it is," Stone repeated, 
frustration creeping into his voice.  "If I did, I'd tell 
you.  But it'll be just as much a surprise to me when it 
happens."

"My only other option is to document every one of your 
tattoos," Father Mitzer said.  

"I don't think we have time for that," Alex said.  "Don't 
anyone look, but here he comes now."


Chapter Six : Confrontation

Khalid strode across the courtyard, unaware he was being 
stalked.  He was still in uniform, a blue long sleeved 
shirt embossed with the Palindrome logo.  The wind tugged 
at his dark hair.

His eyes rested for a moment on the six allies grouped 
around the park benches, then slid away.  Alex kept her 
back to him, not giving him a chance to recognize her.

"Okay, here's the revised plan," Stone announced, his 
voice light, "As soon as he goes into the building, we get 
up and follow him.  Father, Scarecrow, you go up the west 
stairwell, and walk down the hall after him.  The rest of 
us will go up the east stairs, and try to come out right 
behind him.  We've got to get him into the apartment.  
Let's go."

*

Inside Khalid's apartment, the door burst open.  The Arab 
man crashed to the floor, off balance, with Ezekiel Stone 
right behind him.  Stone tackled him, punching him 
repeatedly in the face.  Khalid got his legs up, and 
kicked Stone backward.

The trio of angels who followed him caught him, keeping 
him on his feet.  Their quarry was already up, and he 
kicked out at Khris, the closest.  His foot struck square 
in the chest, and Khris hit the wall next to the door.  A 
short row of coat hooks was there, and he was impaled in 
the back of the head.  Khris cursed in an un-angel like 
fashion as he pulled himself free.

Khalid grabbed a floor lamp.  It was a six foot steel 
shaft, with a weighted base.  He snapped off the light 
fixture and swung it experimentally.  The cord flew wildy, 
he pulled it free as well.  "Six against one?" he said.  
"You really should have been better prepared."

Stone circled to the left, Lukas to the right.  "Watch 
him," Stone directed.  "In case he tries to run."  Alex 
and Father Mitzer entered the apartment, closing the door 
behind them and retreating to the far part of the room.  

The target laughed.  "Run?  I am Khalid Shareef, cowardice 
is not in my bones.  I shall kill you all and have my way 
with the woman."

"Not a chance," Alex sneered.  

Stone stripped off his jacket, then removed his gray 
sweatshirt, revealing dozens of black and white tattoos.  
His problem in establishing Khalid's name had still not 
been solved.  "Hey," he demanded.  "You know which one of 
these is yours?" he asked. 

"I will give you nothing," Khalid said.  He twirled his 
staff.  

"Let's dance," Stone said.  He stepped forward, hands out.  
Lukas did the same, ready to immobilize him.  

Khalid held the broken end of the lamp and swung the 
weighted end at Stone.  He leaned back, but Khalid dipped 
low and clipped him in the right knee.  Stone crumpled.  
He continued the circle, thrusting toward Lukas, knocking 
him down with a blow to the jaw.  

Khalid let out a battle cry.  His immediate attackers 
dispatched, he advanced, swinging the rod around over his 
head.  Scarecrow saw he was the intended target, and 
caught the lamp base before it reached him.  Khalid had 
allowed for it, and pulled Scarecrow forward at the same 
time he thrust out with his right foot.  The kick shoved 
Scarecrow backward into Khris, who was again impaled on 
the coat hooks.

Father Mitzer reached for his notebook and began to 
scribble furiously.

Scarecrow still clutched the lamp base; it had snapped 
free.  Khalid jabbed out with the shaft and stabbed him in 
the right eye, then the left.  "One!" he shouted 
triumphantly.

Struggling to his feet, his knee burning, Stone cringed as 
Scarecrow screamed, the final sound he would ever make on 
earth.  His soul burst forth in a spray of white, and 
spiraled upward to Heaven.  Father Mitzer dropped his 
paper and pencil, and stared, disbelieving.  Alex's face 
held unmistakable sadness, as a man she had just met was 
lost.

Khalid whirled back, his lust for battle whetted.  Lukas 
was up now, and Khalid, still wielding the staff, impaled 
him through the midsection.  With a savage grunt, he 
lifted the angel off the ground and spun back towards 
Stone.  Another thrust skewered him on the pole as well, 
his chest to Lukas's back. 

Khalid released the rod, twisting it as he did, causing 
the two men to fall on their sides.

Khris had moved in to attack while Khalid was busy.  He 
kicked the damned soul in the back with all his strength, 
propelling him toward the far wall.  

Khalid accelerated along the vector, jumping and spinning 
before reaching the wall, striking it with his feet first.  
He LEAPED back at Khris, trailing blue fire as he flew 
across the room, hands extended threateningly.

"Get ready to join your friend," he announced, wrapping 
his hands around Khris' throat as he knocked him back 
against the wall.  

Crash!  A vase smashed into Khalid's head.  Alex stood 
behind him, holding the neck, the largest fragment 
remaining.  "Get off of him," she screamed.

Khalid threw the angel to the ground and turned on Alex.  
Her attack, ineffective in causing him any physical pain, 
nonetheless got a reaction from him.  "What are you 
doing?" he snarled, his eyes blazing hellfire.  "That was 
from the fourteenth century!"

Alex stepped back, realizing who she was dealing with.  
"Sorry?" she squeaked.  Khalid raised his hands, forming 
two meaty fists.  

"Gotcha!" Khris pounced, snaking his hands underneath 
Khalid's shoulders and locking them together behind his 
neck.  The Arab man bellowed, but Khris held tight.  

Stone stood up.  "You ready, Father?" he asked.

"What?" Mitzer said.  "Oh, yes, this has gone far enough."  
He knelt and retrieved his notebook.  

Lukas rose, a hole torn in his shirt where the steel rod 
had passed through him.  He gripped the pole tightly in 
one hand.  "Wait," he said, pointing with his other hand.  
"That's Khalid's name, right there."  

Stone touched the indicated mark.  It was an infinity 
symbol, intersected by three parallel horizontal lines, 
each ending in a small circle.  "You can read them?" he 
asked.

"Yeah.  Show it to the priest."

Khris still held their target in a full nelson.  Khalid 
continued to struggle and rage, slamming the angel against 
the wall, but the grip did not weaken.  "Any day now," he 
called.

Mitzer scratched at the mark, rubbed it with his thumb, 
satisfied the ink did not smear.  As he tested Ezekiel, he 
kept a wary eye on Khalid.  "It appears real," he agreed. 

Stone nodded to Lukas.  "Would you like the honor?" he 
asked.

"I would enjoy it tremendously," he answered, "but this is 
not my fight.  Please, finish him."  He offered the staff 
to Stone.

Stone plunged it into Khalid's left eye.  Blue light 
erupted, and he gave another yell.  This was no battle 
cry, but the sound of a defeated man.

"Where's Ash?" Stone demanded.  

"You may have beaten me," Khalid snarled, "but Ash won't 
go so easily.  Enjoy your last days, fools.  She's going 
to reshape this world."

Stone held the staff out, the jagged metal tip two inches 
from his eye.  "Last chance," he warned.  "Where is she?"

Khalid said nothing, but lunged forward, puncturing the 
other window to his soul.  He howled as his form 
dissolved, and his naked soul descended.  Khris flinched 
but never released his grip.

To the smell of burnt flesh and a sizzling sound, the 
tattoo that represented Khalid Shareef dissolved.  Father 
Mitzer scribbled furiously in his notebook.  "Amazing.  
It's just as you said."

"Are you convinced?" Stone asked.  

Mitzer looked around the room, verifying that its 
occupants had been reduced by two.  "I have never before 
witnessed such a thing," he said.  "You've met the 
Cardinal's request; I'll report to him right away."

"Thank you." Stone said.  

"Yes, yes, of course."  To Lukas, he said, "I'm sorry 
about your friend..."  He consulted his notebook.  
"Scarecrow."

"So are we," Lukas answered. 

"Forgive me, but are you... angels?" 

Lukas nodded.  "The danger is upon us.  All of us must do 
our part to stop Ashur from entering heaven."

"I understand.  The Church, of course, will do everything 
in its power." 

Alex was prowling through Khalid's apartment.  In the 
kitchen, next to the phone, was an answering machine, with 
a red LED flashing the number one.  She pressed the play 
button.  

"Khalid, it's North Ratare.  Ash wanted me to warn you; 
Stone's in your neck of the woods.  She doesn't know if 
it's for you or for Hephzibah, but get out of there.  
We'll be in touch."  Another beep signaled the end of the 
message.

"Hey guys," she called.  "I think you're going to want to 
hear this."  

Alex replayed the message, then held up the Caller ID box.  
"No name or number, but you see the time stamp?"  Stone 
nodded.  "This call was made before we got here."  Alex 
stared at Father Mitzer.  "I'd say it was about five 
minutes after you called him and told him where to meet 
us."

*

Stone awoke in the morning to a knock on his door.  He 
crawled out of bed and opened it.  It was Father Horn.

"Come in," Stone offered.  "You're out early."

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," the priest said.  "I 
thought we needed to talk." 

"Have a seat," Stone told him.  "The couch is at your ten 
o'clock, about three steps."  Father Horn maneuvered his 
way to it and sat down.  "Want some coffee?" Stone asked.  

"That would be fine, thank you."

"There is something I'd like to talk about," Stone said.  
"Last summer, you knew Rosalyn was looking for me?  And 
you didn't say anything?"

Father Horn looked ashamed.  "I did," he admitted.

"Why?" Stone demanded.  "Why?  You knew we both wanted to 
reunite.  All you had to do was say something."

"The Devil asked me to," Horn told him.  "I couldn't go 
along with him."

"What about later, when you gave her my address?  Why 
didn't you say anything to me then?"

"You were already in New York the next time we spoke.  
What good would it have been to tell you out there?"

"What good?  I'll tell you what good," Stone shot back.  
"I wouldn't have gotten involved with Ash if I'd known Roz 
still loved me.  If I'd known there was any chance of 
being with her again.  And we wouldn't be rushing around 
now, trying to stop her."

Father Horn's gaze, although unseeing, had been in 
Ezekiel's direction.  Hearing these accusations forced him 
to turn away.

"So, you know, I have to wonder if there's anything else 
you're not telling me."

"Ezekiel, I'm sorry," the priest said.  "I did what I 
thought was right.  If you feel this whole crisis is my 
fault, I apologize."

Stone was silent for a moment, disarmed by the priest's 
agreement.  He sipped his coffee and brought a mug to the 
priest.  "I could have contacted her in Los Angeles," he 
admitted.  "I did what I thought was right, too, to 
protect her."

"How is Rosalyn?" Father Horn asked, guiding the 
conversation elsewhere.  "And her daughter?"  

"They're fine." Stone smiled.  "Danielle is beautiful, 
just like her mother."

"Good, good.  I wanted to congratulate you on proving your 
case to Father Mitzer yesterday."

"Thank you.  I hope it pays off; the cost was high.  
Detective Kane is in the hospital, and another ally lost 
his chance on earth."  

"Ezekiel, if the risks are great, so is the reward.  How 
many deaths have these supernatural creatures caused?  And 
how many will be prevented if you can destroy the eyes of 
the ringleader?"  Stone did not reply, and the priest 
continued, "A shepherd must protect his flock.  You are 
charged with helping all of mankind."

"But what about my friends, my partners?  Kane almost died 
yesterday, because of me.  He'd be better off if he wasn't 
involved."

"It's his choice, Ezekiel.  Respect his decision."

Stone hesitated before asking his next question.  "How 
well do you know John Mitzer?"

"I knew him in seminary," Father Horn answered.  "Why?"

"We were betrayed yesterday," Stone said, his voice tinted 
with anger.  "The evidence points to him."

"I find that hard to believe," Horn replied.  "Does he 
deny it?"

"Someone contacted Ash and told her where we were headed.  
Just five minutes after I called Father Mitzer with the 
information, her representative phoned the damned soul we 
were after and warned him away.  That's a big 
coincidence."

Father Horn thought for a moment.  "When I knew him, there 
was a painting in Boston that appeared to weep.  You know 
the phenomenon to which I refer?  It was a picture of the 
Virgin Mary.  On several occasions, tears formed, as 
though she cried over the death of her son.

"We visited it together, eager to see it with our own 
eyes."  He smiled at the memory.  "Many flocked to the 
church, hoping to witness a miracle."

"John Mitzer believed this was a sign from the Almighty.  
I was not as convinced, and he chastised me for what he 
perceived as a lack of faith.  We argued good naturedly 
over it, until a Church Scholar investigating it declared 
the tears were just condensation, the union of air vent 
and a cold water pipe in the wall."

"So you were right?" Stone asked.

"There was no right and wrong, Ezekiel.  Saying that a few 
drops of moisture had not been placed there by the Lord 
Himself was no proof that the phenomenon was always 
fraudulent.  There have been well documented cases.  But 
John took it as a personal insult, and dedicated his 
career to disproving events that hinted at the 
supernatural.  He considered it a calling, to prevent 
others from misplacing their faith.

"He still seems skeptical, even after what he witnessed 
yesterday," Stone confirmed.

"Just as should be expected, for a man with his 
responsibility.  But you posit that he is firmly in league 
with the forces of evil, conspiring to kill the Lord.  I 
can not believe such a thing, Ezekiel."

"He's the only one who could have contacted her," Stone 
said.

"The only one?" questioned Father Horn.  "What of your 
employer?  Did he know who your target was?"

"Yes," Stone said slowly.  "The Devil is the one who 
picked him out."

"Is it possible he has aligned himself with this woman's 
cause?  Passed information to her to further her plans, or 
even to have you eliminated?"

As Stone considered, his cell phone rang.  "Hello?"

"Mr. Stone, this is Cardinal Taylor.  I may have some 
information that could be helpful to you.  Would you be 
available for a meeting?"

"All right," Stone agreed, "I'll be right there.  Could I 
ask, does Father Mitzer know what you have for me?"

"No, the report just came in."

"I'm on my way," Stone said, hanging up.  "Father, I've 
got to run."

"Of course."  Stone grabbed his overcoat as the priest 
made his way to the door.  "Would I be in the way if I 
came along?" the priest asked.  

Stone grinned.  "A man of God is never in the way.  Let's 
go."


Chapter Seven : Council of War

This was the most people he had ever had in his apartment.

Stone worried about what the day would bring.  The forces 
that were aligned against them were powerful; Scarecrow's 
destruction yesterday had been on his watch.  More deaths 
could follow, and he valued each of his friends here.  
Stone looked to each of them in turn.  

Father Horn sat on the couch with Sophia D'Amato and 
William Kane, whose intact arm was slung around his 
girlfriend.  Sophia leaned into him, finding comfort 
there.

Lukas and Khris stood, leaning against the wall.  Their 
manner was solemn.  Scarecrow had been with them for the 
last year, and his passing was a terrible reminder of what 
could happen to them.

Alexandra Gray, recent inductee into this supernatural 
world, sat in a chair.  She watched him closely, waiting 
to see where this meeting would lead.

"The church has provided us with a good lead," he told 
them.  "A woman matching Lizzy Darke's description 
consulted a priest yesterday morning, asking about the end 
of the world.  She's part of North's Dozen, and the 
remaining souls in that group would be logical defenders 
for Ash in her weakened state.  

"I spoke with the priest, and he repeated her questions to 
me.  The impression I got was that she might be 
considering taking out Ash herself, even though her own 
soul would be destroyed along with it.  

"That suggests to me that not only is she around Ash, but 
still a trusted member of the inner circle.  That's a 
little surprising, considering she's actively worked 
against her several times in the last month.  Maybe Ash 
can't conceive of anyone working against her, knowing 
they'll go back to Hell if they succeed.

"She hasn't contacted me through my message service for 
several weeks either, not since she returned Lillian 
Castillo.  So she must be struggling with her decision.  
Anyway, it'll make our task easier if Lizzy sends Ash back 
to Hell, but I'm not counting on it."

"So you know where Ash is?" Kane asked. 

"We think so.  It's a town called Maxell, a couple hours 
west."

Lukas spoke, "There are two rogue angels that are working 
with her.  Nasya will most likely be acting as a midwife 
for Ashur, a last minute replacement.  She'll be of 
moderate strength, although I don't know what role she 
would take in battle.  Obadiah is extremely powerful.  His 
abilities include manifestation, the ability to call 
simple weapons, such as knives and other blades, into 
existence.  Khris and I will take responsibility for the 
rogues, but I want you to know what's out there."

"What would happen if Ash does give birth?" Sophia wanted 
to know.

Stone nodded to Lukas, indicating the angel should 
continue.  "This has never happened before," he said, "but 
this child of fire will be a powerful creature.  First, 
he'll be born with the complete memories of his parents, 
at least up to the time of his conception."

"What?" Stone asked, disbelieving. 

"He won't be an innocent child, but reasoning and aware."  
Lukas let that sink in.  "Second, he will have advanced 
control of his powers, even greater than that of Ashur, 
because he will never experience the limitations of the 
human shell.  Third, his growth will be self regulating.  
I'd expect him to age rapidly until he is no longer 
dependant on others, slowing in his late teens or early 
twenties."

"Wait a minute," Kane protested.  "If that's true, why did 
it take nine months for him to be born?  Why not do it in 
an afternoon?"

"Because the development of the fetus is under the 
mother's control.  Ashur's weakness is certainly a sign 
that the child, almost of age, is fighting against her for 
control.  Once the umbilical cord is cut, the child will 
be on its own."

He waited to see if there were more questions, but no one 
spoke.  Lukas continued, "Fourth, at some point, he will 
be able to create a portal leading to Heaven.  This may 
not be an innate power, but with Obadiah there, working in 
concert, it could be possible almost immediately.  When 
this happens, all is certainly lost."

There was silence in the room, except for the sounds of 
the city in the background.  Kane pulled Sophia a little 
closer, Khris stared at his feet.  

Alex broke the silence.  "So what are we waiting for?  
Let's go get her!"  She rose from her chair.

Stone looked at Kane.  The bruises on his face had turned 
the color of rotten grapes, his right arm hung in a sling, 
and there were bandages on his head.  Kane was lucky to be 
alive after yesterday's encounter; but he was still ready 
to go on.

"I want to make sure everyone understands the danger," 
Stone said, looking at Alex.  "If these were a half dozen 
armed humans against us, we'd send a SWAT team in after 
them.  These creatures are more powerful; it's likely some 
of us won't be coming back."

"Ash is the key, right?" Sophia said.  "Dispatch her, and 
all the rest go back?"

"All the damned souls will be returned to Hell," Stone 
agreed.  "But not the rogue angels.  They're independent.  
But the point is, I'm the only one responsible for this."  
He looked over the mortals.  "You four can walk away, if 
you want."

Kane spoke first.  "They killed Charlie.  Count me in."

"I'm doing it for my dad," Sophia said.  "I want to make 
things right."

"Whatever I can do to help, I will," Father Horn said.  

"It's the right thing to do," Alex finished.  "So what are 
we waiting for?"

"The van's downstairs," Khris said.  "I think we can fit 
everyone in there."

"Oh, no," Sophia said.  "I just spent three days in the 
back of a van on a stakeout.  No way I'm doing it again, 
especially not in August.  I'm driving too."  She looked 
around.  "I can take a couple more people in my car," 
Sophia said.  "Alex, would you ride with us?"

"Cool," the desk clerk said.  "How about you, Father?  I'd 
like to hear how Belle and Amanda are doing."

The priest smiled at the mention of Amanda's name.  "She's 
quite a child.  I'd be happy to."

Lukas nodded to Stone.  "Guess you're with us."

Stone shook the angel's hand.  "I appreciate your help," 
he said.  "Thanks for doing this."

Lukas shrugged.  "We're going after Obadiah and Nasya, 
that's all."

"Right.  Let's get going."

The seven filed out of the room.  Stone took one long look 
back at his apartment.  It had been his home in the city 
for nine months.  Now, he feared he would never see it 
again.  

*

The angels were still driving the same Dodge van that they 
had had in Los Angeles.  Khris was behind the wheel as 
they headed west on State Highway 17.  Traffic was light 
and smooth.

"This could be it for you," Lukas suggested from the 
passenger's seat.  "Your mission could be over by dinner."

"You don't know how my second chance works, do you?" Stone 
asked.  "I told Rosalyn I'd be living and breathing again, 
but I've never been quite sure."

Lukas shrugged.  "That's what happened with Lazarus."

"I've been wondering if it's worth it, if someone gets 
killed," Stone killed.  "Like Alex.  I don't know if I 
could live with that.  At least you and Khris, you know 
the risks involved.  It's why you're here."

"They know the risks, too," Lukas said of the mortals in 
the trailing vehicle.  "Who's to say why any of them are 
here?  Maybe God brought them together with you to give 
you support."

"What about you?  Are you helping me because God wants you 
too?"

Khris and Lukas exchanged a glance.  "Not exactly," Khris 
said.  "It's against our rules."

"To help me?  Why?"

"Because He said so," Khris replied.  "You don't argue 
with Him."

"So now I'm putting you at risk too?"  Stone exclaimed.

"We're technically within the rules," Lukas argued.  "We 
didn't offer our help to you.  We're not returning any of 
the damned souls, we're only going after the angels.  All 
we're doing is coordinating our efforts with yours, for 
greater efficiency."  

Khris rolled his eyes.  "Can you tell he's been practicing 
his excuses?"

"This isn't one of these technicalities that depends on 
what the definition of the word 'is' is, right?" Stone 
asked.

"Just send Ashur back," Lukas told him.  "That is what's 
important."

* 

In Sophia's car, the discussion was along much the same 
lines.  "So, what exactly happens if Ash gets into 
heaven," Alex wanted to know. 

Kane shrugged, then winced at the jarring of his injured 
flesh.  "Lukas would be a better one to ask," he said.  

"But he's not here," Alex pointed out.

"The universe could end, if God dies," Sophia theorized.  
"But I don't think Ash would want that."

"Unless that was better then going back to Hell," Kane 
said.

"If God is not truly immortal, if he can in fact die," 
Father Horn said, "He would know that truth.  So why, in 
His wisdom, would He destroy us?  He would want His 
children to outlive Him, I'm sure.  What father wouldn't?"

"Speaking of children," Alex said, "How's Amanda and 
Belle?"  Belle had been a prostitute in New York City that 
Ezekiel Stone had helped by getting her a fresh start in 
Los Angeles, through a program Father Horn ran.  Amanda 
was her young daughter.

"That child is a blessing," the priest said.  "She picks 
flowers and brings them to me, knowing if I could not 
enjoy their beauty, that the fragrance would brighten my 
day."

"She was a sweet girl," Alex agreed.

Father Horn dug beneath his collar, and displayed a golden 
cross on a chain.  "She even gave this to me when I told 
her I was leaving.  Amanda said it had kept her safe on 
her trip across the country, and it would do the same for 
me."

Alex stared at the cross the priest held up.  She 
recognized it; it had been a gift from Luskus Delph, a 
souvenir of London that he had intended for his daughter.  
But it had passed to her, and from her to Amanda, and now 
to Father Horn.

She thought briefly about telling him its history, that 
had been brought into this world by an escaped soul.  But 
a man of the cloth would likely reject a trinket with such 
a shady past.  Better to let him enjoy it as a present 
from a young girl.

*

Maxell, New York, was a small town a few hours northwest 
of New York City.  Not far from Ithaca, cradled in the 
Finger Lakes, it was home to eight hundred and thirteen 
people.  Unknown to them, seven supernatural creatures had 
taken residence there as well.

The Catholic Church there was attended by Father Pirastis.  
He had received Cardinal Taylor's communication, asking 
priests to be on the lookout for anything of a 
supernatural nature.  He had immediately thought of a 
conversation with a young woman the day before, and her 
concern that the end of the world could be coming.  

Father Pirastis had passed this information back through 
channels and, to his surprise, has been taken seriously.  
He'd spoken with Detective Stone on the phone, and his 
description of the woman had sparked recognition.  Stone 
and his team were on their way.

Unsure what to expect from his guests, he'd spent the last 
few hours cleaning the church.  It was good, simple work, 
keeping the hands busy and allowing the mind an 
opportunity to think.  He'd also made discreet inquiries 
around town about the woman.    

Although he suspected it would give birth to rumors, 
Father Pirastis had contacted Eugene Passos, who handled 
most of the real estate transactions in town.  A home had 
been rented out by a group of three men and five women 
from the City.  Eugene had speculated that they might be 
some sort of a cult, but Eugene was prone to wild 
speculations.  He had, however, provided an address.

While taking out the trash, Father Pirastis discovered a 
man loitering about.  Drifters were rare but not unknown 
in Maxell, and this stranger had clearly been on the road 
for days.  A patchy growth of beard clung to his face, and 
an odor lingered that encouraged the priest to stand 
upwind of him.  

Father Pirastis offered to help the man, to exchange his 
help in cleaning for a meal and a shower, but the drifter 
declined.  He seemed reluctant to approach the church, 
casting a wary eye on it as they talked, as though it 
might suddenly attack him.

Two vehicles arrived in the parking lot, and the drifter 
faded back.  Father Pirastis went to greet his guests.

*

Ezekiel Stone opened the side door of the van and climbed 
out, his joints creaking after sitting in one place for 
several hours.  Lukas and Khris fell in place behind him, 
and they approached the waiting priest.

"Father Pirastis?" he asked.  "I'm Ezekiel Stone.  We 
spoke on the phone."

The two men shook hands.  "Pleasure to meet you."

"It's vitally important that I find the woman you spoke 
to," Stone told him.  "Is there way you could help me do 
that?"

The priest reached into a pocket and withdrew a scrap of 
paper.  "I believe this is where she is staying," he said,  
"along with several other men and women."  

"Would you happen to know if one of the women is 
pregnant?"

Father Pirastis nodded.  "So I'm told."

Stone turned to the group behind him.  Sophia's car had 
emptied, and they waited, Father Horn guided by a grip on 
Alex's elbow.  "This is it," he announced.  "They're 
here."  Murmurs and smiles greeted his declaration. 

Another vehicle arrived in the parking lot, a sleek gray 
luxury car.  Everyone watched it approach.  A single man 
was behind the wheel, he parked next to the van.  

Unsure of the stranger or his intentions, Sophia touched 
her gun, making sure it was ready.  Lukas, however, 
recognized him.  "It's the priest," he said.  "Father 
Mitzer."

Mitzer approached, grinning.  "Hello again," he said to 
Stone.  "I must have just missed you, leaving the city."

"It was intentional," Stone said.  "How did you know we 
were here?"

"I'm here to represent the church in your undertaking."

"We already have a priest," Alex said, nodding to Father 
Horn.  Her expression of distaste made it clear what she 
thought of Mitzer's presence.

"Cletus, I haven't seen you years," Father Mitzer said to 
his fellow priest. 

"John Mitzer," Father Horn said, recognizing the voice.  
"Likewise."

"Well, we'll have to catch up," he told him.  To Stone, he 
said, "But for now, I am here as the official observer for 
the church, to document the conflict."

"You still haven't explained the warning Khalid got 
yesterday.  Why should we trust you?"  

"I've given you my word, I had nothing to do with it," 
Father Mitzer replied.  

Stone sighed.  Father Horn had vouched for this man, to an 
extent.  He glanced among the group, meeting eyes with 
each if them.  Alex appeared ready to speak, but made no 
objection.  "All right, you can come."

"May I suggest you don't leave your car here," Father 
Pirastis said to Mitzer.  "There's a drifter hanging 
around, and I wouldn't want to tempt him."  He motioned to 
where the stranger loitered, under a group of trees at the 
edge of the property.  

Stone stared.  "I don't believe it."  He strode toward the 
man.  "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Stone," the Devil said, pleased to be 
recognized.  "I'm here to see the end of your quest, one 
way or another.  Will you finally return Ash to Hell, or 
will you and I be spending all eternity together?"

Stone sniffed the air.  "Did you roll in something?" he 
asked.  "You stink."

"All part of the disguise," the Devil said dramatically, 
preening left and right.  "How do you like it?"

"Did you tip off Ash yesterday?" Stone challenged.  "Were 
you trying to sabotage things with Father Mitzer?"

"Would I do a thing like that?" The Devil asked 
innocently.  He stuck out his thumb.  "I'm just looking 
for a ride.  Which way you headed?"

"You want to tag along?" Stone said, turning and walking 
away.  "Fine.  But you're riding with him."  Wrinkling his 
nose, he pointed to Father Mitzer.


Chapter Eight : Engagement

With the inclusion of Father Mitzer, Father Pirastis, and 
the Devil, the party now numbered ten.  The priests were 
non-combatants, and the Devil was forbidden to attack the 
damned souls, so there was no real tactical advantage to 
the additional members.  But the larger group gave a sense 
of strength to those pledged to destroy Ash and her 
followers, a feeling that they now outnumbered her 
faction. 

Father Mitzer followed the other two vehicles in his 
luxury car, provided to him by the Church for use in his 
work.  At the moment, he had all the windows down, trying 
to eliminate the pungent smell of his passenger.  

The Devil was buckled into the passenger seat, still in 
his drifter apparel.  He grinned at the priest's 
discomfort.  "Lovely day, isn't it?" he said.

"Oh, yes, yes, indeed," Father Mitzer agreed.  "So, what's 
your role in this?  Detective Stone wasn't very clear on 
that?"

"I'm like you, I'm just watching.  Hoping for a good 
show."

"It's a little much to take in, at first, isn't it?  
Angels and devils, fighting here on earth?  What an 
incredible privilege, to be witnesses."

"It depends on your point of view, I suppose," the Devil 
said.  "I remember before this whole thing started.  The 
place was a real dictatorship, all dissent crushed, no 
opposing points of view allowed."  He searched for an 
example.  "Like China."

Father Mitzer reappraised his passenger.  "You're an 
angel, then?" he asked carefully.  

"Yes," the Devil agreed.

"Lukas said some of you had been banished to Earth.  You 
must have been here a long time."

"A long time," the Devil echoed. 

"Do you think you'll ever find redemption?  Be able to 
return?"

"Me?"  The Devil chuckled.  "No, He'd never allow me back 
in."

Father Mitzer looked him over again.  "What did you say 
your name was?"

The Devil grinned.  "Don't you know, Father?"  He chuckled 
loudly as Mitzer realized who shared his vehicle.  "I'm 
the original rebel."  The priest gulped, as though 
battling against a compulsion to vomit, which only made 
the Devil laugh harder.

*

A block away from the address Father Pirastis provided, 
Khris guided the van to a halt.  The trailing vehicles 
followed suit.  

Sophia got out of her car and approached the van as Stone 
climbed out the side door.  "Is this it?" she asked.  

"No," he replied.

"What are we stopping for?"  she wondered.

"I wanted to go over the plan."

"You should have called me on my cell," she told him.  
"Tempus fugit, right?"

Stone shook his head.  "Didn't even think of that."

"Not a problem," Sophia replied, "So what's the plan?"

*

Some of the others had exited the vehicles, and they 
milled around.  The Devil remained buckled in, making no 
motion to exit Father Mitzer's car.  The priest watched 
him carefully out of the corner of his eye.

Khris approached Alexandra, carrying something.  "You 
should take this," he said.

"What?"

Khris held out a gun to her.  Silver in color, with a 
black handle, she stared at it.  "This was Scarecrow's.  I 
think he would be happy to see you put it to use."

Alex made no move to pick it up.  "Is he watching?  From 
up there?"

He made a noncommittal grunt.  "I don't know.  If he is, I 
think he'd approve."

Tentatively, she reached out to grasp the weapon.  "I've 
never really been a gun type of person.  My father was a 
soldier.  I know he had to have killed, in Vietnam, but I 
don't know if I can do it."

"Don't think of it as killing," Khris advised.  "That's 
not what it is.  You're presenting them for judgment."

Alex lifted the gun, gauging the weight.  "I think I can 
do that," she said.  "The eyes, right?"

*

1787 Home Road was a large house.  It was two stories, 
with a garage connected by a breezeway.  A white picket 
fence, complete with a gate at the front walk, surrounded 
the lawn.  

Behind the home, Ezekiel Stone waited by the fence.  Lukas 
and Khris held in position behind him.  "Okay," he said 
into his cell phone, "Let's move in."  He tucked the phone 
away.

He vaulted the backyard fence.  Gun in hand, he ran toward 
the porch.  Luke Choi, whom he had last during a bank 
robbery in the city, was peering out through the sliding 
glass doors, hand raised above his eyes in an attempt to 
block the glare.  His gaze dropped to the lock, and he 
fiddled with it, not noticing Stone approaching.  

Stone raised his weapon.  Out of the dozens of damned 
souls he had sent back, this would be one of the easiest.  
He fired twice through the window, shattering the glass 
and Luke Choi's eyes with two well aimed bullets.

The screams alerted any others inside.  Ignoring the stab 
as the tattoo burned away, he charged toward the house.  
As he reached the broken glass door, someone began to fire 
at him from inside the house.  He leapt back, waiting for 
a break in the deadly hailstorm.

*

Sophia D'Amato was already half way to the house when she 
heard the gunfire.  The element of surprise was lost; she 
fired into the locks of the front door and kicked it in.  

Kane was behind her, wielding his own weapon in his left 
hand.  He'd insisted on joining the attack on the house, 
preferring that Alexandra stay back with the priests.  The 
heavy motion jarred his injured arm, but he shoved the 
pain aside.  

She found herself in a hallway, two openings each on the 
left and right.  Someone was in the room immediately on 
the left, and with Kane watching her back, she looked in.

It was a woman in her late twenties.  She fired intently 
at someone in the back of the house.  As Sophia looked on, 
her gun clicked empty, and she reached for a new clip.  
Taking advantage of the break, Sophia stepped toward her, 
raising her weapon.  She squeezed the trigger twice.  

Neither shot struck home, and the woman whirled, already 
slamming the clip into her pistol.  Sophia prepared to 
fire again, as the other woman raised the reloaded gun.

*

No longer pinned down, Ezekiel Stone returned fire at his 
assailant as she turned.  The first shot missed, but the 
second was dead on.  It struck her in the left temple and 
exited the right, neatly destroying the eyes in one shot.

The damned soul screamed as she was sucked back to Hell.  
Ignoring her, Stone entered the house, quickly meeting up 
with Sophia and Will.  "You know who that was?" Sophia 
asked.

Stone shrugged.  "One of North's Dozen, I'm sure.  Let's 
find the rest."  They swept the rest of the first floor; 
it was clear. 

*

Outside, waiting by Sophia's car, Alex had already tired 
of holding Scarecrow's weapon up.  Now it rested on the 
hood of the car.  She listened to the gunfire from inside, 
and watched.  

A window on the second floor shattered.  As she watched, a 
man with an eye patch climbed out onto the roof.  It was 
North Ratare, leading the retreat, and bearing a heavy 
machine gun.  Ash followed him, her belly tight and 
swollen, close to giving birth.  At least it was proof the 
child had not yet emerged.

Another man came into view, clutching electronic equipment 
against his chest.  He followed the other two as they made 
their way across the breezeway to the garage roof.

Alexandra raised the gun.  This wasn't killing, she 
reminded herself, this was presenting them for judgment.  
She took aim at Ash's head and pulled the trigger.

The recoil jerked at the weapon, and she looked over the 
barrel at the figures clustered on the roof.  No one 
appeared injured.  North Ratare was setting his feet now, 
turning toward her with his machine gun, focusing on her 
with his one good eye, cradling the weapon in two hands.

Alex held her ground.  She fired again and again, at least 
trying to distract them, hoping someone who was a better 
shot would take them out.

North's gun was loud and fast, and bullets tore through 
the air past her.  She ducked behind Sophia's car, and 
heard the rapid pinging as the car was struck repeatedly.  
There was just enough time for her to scramble away before 
it exploded.

*

In the back yard, Khris and Lukas watched as Ashur and her 
minions scurried across the roof like cockroaches running 
for cover.  Khris moved in closer, waiting for a target.

Nasya was the last one out of the window, just behind two 
female damned souls, Lizzy Darke and Jessica Post.  Lukas 
took careful aim at her eyes, but the distance was no ally 
of his here.  He did succeed in distracting the group, as 
they were fired on from both sides.  

They were attempting to get through the roof into the 
garage, he saw.  Attack from two sides and their positions 
on the inclined roof slowed their progress.  Obadiah, 
struggling with many electronic modules of some sort, did 
what he could to help.  The air quivered as he called a 
simple blade into existence.  

Nasya grabbed it, and quickly sliced through the roof.   
She stepped back, letting Ash get out of sight first.  She 
followed, then Obadiah jumped through the hole.  

Lukas turned and yelled to Khris.  "They're making a run 
for it.  Bring the van around," he ordered.  Without 
waiting to see if Khris complied, he sprinted to the 
garage.

*

On the second floor of the house, Stone, Sophia, and Will 
finished their sweep; no damned souls waited in ambush.  
Stone had found their exit, the broken window, and could 
see North Ratare outside on the roof, still firing wildly.  

He stepped to the window and fired, trying for the same 
temple shot that had destroyed the woman downstairs.  But 
the angles were against him this time, and he failed.  

North turned too quickly to face his attacker, and lost 
his balance on the incline.  He slipped down to the edge 
of the roof and tumbled thirteen feet to the ground below.

"Ash must be in the garage with the others," Stone said to 
Sophia and Will, already halfway out the window.  "I'm 
going after them."

*

Lukas burst into the garage, charging through the wall.  
Or rather, he tried to.  The wall itself gave him no 
problems, but he had unluckily chosen to enter right 
through a steel workbench, bolted to the ground, which 
slowed him down tremendously.  The net result was a hole 
above the workbench.  

What he could see inside was the rear end of a station 
wagon.  An endangered species in these days of minivans, 
it was decked out with wood paneling on the sides and a 
luggage rack on the top.  A woman was in the back, lying 
down as best she could.  He knew her immediately from her 
gravid form; it was Ashur.

The garage door was already sliding upward; at any second 
she would be gone.  His angle presented him with no other 
targets.  There was no chance at shooting out the tires, 
or damaging the radiator.  

Ashur turned and saw him, she met his eyes.  A smirk 
danced across her face; she knew he was impotent to act.  
For him to interfere in Stone's mission would be to defy 
God's command.  It was possible he could be damned for 
such a violation; at the least, his own crusade would end 
and redemption would escape him.

But he raised his weapon anyway.  

It was the right thing to do.  Ashur had to be stopped, no 
matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice.  The look in her 
eyes as she saw his determination was priceless.  He could 
read her lips clearly over the revving engine as she 
shouted 'Go!'  

Lukas fired, but she was already turning away.  His shots 
struck her, but her soul remained intact.  She rolled, 
keeping herself a moving target.  The back window 
imploded, and she continued to dodge as the station wagon 
pulled out of the garage and out of his line of fire.

*

North Ratare heard the sound of the garage door.  The fall 
had broken his concentration, and his right arm had 
disappeared.  It had been cut off in a car accident when 
he was a child, and his self image did not include the 
severed limb.  Only by concentrating could he regenerate 
the appendage.

Leaving the machine gun where it lay in the dirt, he ran 
out along the driveway as the vehicle went by.  He jumped 
over fence and onto the roof, landing at the front of the 
vehicle and griping the luggage rack with his left hand.

*

Stone ran across the garage roof, making a desperate leap 
for the escaping vehicle.  He arced downward, landing just 
behind it on the asphalt driveway, but managing to snag 
the tailgate with his left hand.  He ignored the broken 
glass in the window and held on as he was dragged away.

Ash was right there in front of him, staring back at him.  
He pulled his gun, ready to finish her.  Two shots and it 
would all be over.

But she wasn't going to give up that easily.  Her right 
foot pistoned out, smashing his fingers.  

He ignored the pain for a moment, trying to aim as the car 
fishtailed out of the driveway.  But Ash kicked at his 
fingers again, and this time succeeded in knocking them 
away.  Stone tumbled, rolling into the street.

Brushing the dirt from the road off of his greatcoat, 
Stone stood up and surveyed the scene.  It was grim.  
Sophia's car was a burning wreck, thick oily smoke 
billowing upward.  Father Mitzer's vehicle had been shot 
up as well, and the tire Stone could see was flat.  

Alex was the first one to reach him.  Her face had been 
scratched and was bleeding slightly, and she seemed to 
favor her left leg.  "Zeke, you okay?"  

He nodded. "What about you, and everyone else?"

"I saw the driver," she told him.  "It was Lizzy, that 
woman from your apartment."

Stone nodded.  "That's some good info, thanks."

"My car!" Sophia D'Amato yelled, catching her first 
glimpse of the wreckage that had been her vehicle.  "One 
more payment!"

Her cries trailed off when she saw the body still inside.

Stone noticed it at the same time.  "No..." he said 
softly, hoping it was a mistake.

They all came together on the sidewalk, huddling together 
like sheep in a storm.  Stone looked over his friends.  
Khris was missing, but his death would not have left a 
body.  

It was Father Horn.

"He couldn't get out in time," Father Pirastis explained 
vacantly, crossing himself.  "It all happened so fast, we 
thought we'd be safe out here."

Stone approached the burning car.  Unaffected by the heat, 
he climbed inside and pulled the motionless form out.  He 
lay the priest down gently on the sidewalk and knelt over 
him.  

"I'm sorry," he said.  "I should never have brought you 
along.  I knew it was too dangerous."

Lukas touched his shoulder.  "We've got to follow her," he 
said.  "There's no time for this."

Khris arrived in the van, brakes squealing as he stopped.  
"Let's go, let's go, let's go," he called. 

Stone stood.  There would be time for mourning and 
reflection later, a chance to replay over and over today's 
events in the hope that something would change.  Right 
now, his target was escaping. 

"Kane," he said, "You stay here with Alex and the priests.  
I want you to search the house, find something we can 
use."  Lukas and Sophia were already climbing into the 
van.

"Right," Kane said.  "I won't let you down."  
Disappointment flashed across his face, but only for a 
moment.

The Devil was halfway to the van.  "Where do you think 
you're going?" Stone demanded.

"Why, to see the show, of course," the Devil grinned.  

Stone shook his head.  "Not like that," he said.

The Devil snapped his fingers.  His drifter's outfit 
disappeared, along with the stubble on his face and the 
lingering smell about him, replaced with his usual dark 
shirt and tie.  "Time's wasting, Mr. Stone."

Stone climbed in the van, but didn't close the door behind 
him.  "There's no such thing as a free ride," he said, 
challenging the Devil.

The Devil climbed in, and took a seat.  "Carry on," he 
directed, and Khris stomped on the accelerator.

*

"We should have gone with them," Alex said to Kane, 
standing next to him on the sidewalk.

"Stone knows what he's doing," Kane said.  Sirens could be 
heard in the background, growing louder as they 
approached.  "I hope."  They watched the van disappear 
around a corner.


Chapter Nine : The Bridge

Khris drove as fast as he could, ignoring the posted speed 
limits.  They caught glimpses of the station wagon from 
time to time, but had not closed the gap significantly.

Their pursuit stopped abruptly at the junction with State 
Highway 13.  North or south, either way was equally 
likely.

Khris spoke first, snapping the silence.  "Anyone see 
them?"

"I don't know," Lukas said.  

"We can't let her get away," Sophia insisted.  "We've got 
to follow her."

"Where?" Khris asked.  "If you know, tell me!"

"Only one person here knows," Stone said, eyeing the man 
wearing the dark tie.  His employer flashed a crooked 
grin, but said nothing.  "He knows where all of the damned 
souls are, including Ash.  And now it's time to kick in 
for this shindig."

"I can't tell you, Mr. Stone," the Devil chuckled.  "You 
are entirely on your own."

"We don't have time for this," Lukas said.  With 
supernatural speed, he drew his gun and fired into the 
Devil's right eye, piercing the soul.  "Tell us which 
way!"

"Damn!" the Devil cursed, "That was uncalled for, really!"  
He pressed his hand to the wound.

Stone drew his own weapon and prepared to return the 
fallen angel to his domain.  "Now!" he insisted.  

"All right, all right," the Devil said grudgingly.  
"They're south of us.  I guess you deserve a lead now and 
then."

"Do it!" Stone ordered Khris.  The van turned southward, 
cutting in front of a slow moving truck, and accelerated 
hard.
 
Sophia was still rubbing her ears.  "Let me know next time 
you're going to fire a gun in here," she complained to 
Lukas.  But she smiled as she spoke, pleased to be 
catching up with Ash.

*

The pain was constant.  Her own child was fighting against 
her, trying to kick its way out of her womb, battling to 
be born.  For the first time in months, Ashur Badaktu 
worried that Ezekiel would be able to stop her.  The 
attack on her compound had been almost a complete 
surprise, he'd been just seconds away from shattering the 
windows to her soul.  Still, there was her inside source; 
that fact might give her the edge again.

"North," she called from the back of the station wagon.  
"North!"

"Yeah?" he answered, concerned.  

"Get back here," she ordered.  

North was in the back seat, and he crawled to her.  "What 
do you need?  What can I do?"

She propped herself up on one elbow.  "You have to stop 
them," Ash told him. "You have to buy us time to get 
away."

North nodded.  "Okay."

She grinned.  "I'll even give you one more order that I 
know you'll enjoy.  I want you to kill him."  She repeated 
it.  "I want you to kill Ezekiel Stone.  His death will 
shatter the group he leads, and we will succeed.  Do this 
for me, North Ratare."

He bowed his head.  "Consider it done."

Her free hand snaked out and caught him behind the neck.  
"Good boy," she told him.  Before he fully understood what 
she intended, Ash pulled him to her, pressing his lips to 
hers, giving him something he had craved for a long time.

Her eyes closed, enjoying the moment.  He quickly relaxed, 
and kissed her back passionately.  Now, with the personal 
contact between them, she opened her memories to him, her 
experiences, and every trick that she knew about 
controlling a soul's appearance and abilities.

She guided his mind to a certain ability, and granted him 
another desire.  North's body dissolved, reverting to a 
naked soul, sparkling blue energy.  The lips pressed to 
hers faded, and North's form passed out of the vehicle, 
leaving her alone.

Something fell against her cheek, brushing against it 
lightly like a tear.  She opened her eyes, and 
comprehended that her gift had been successful.  A half 
dozen irregular beads of metal lay there.  

Ash smiled.  "Good luck, North," she whispered. 

*

The bridge over the Cayuta River was a solid one, built in 
the days of the CCC, when FDR had been desperate to put 
the people of the country to work.  Two lanes of traffic 
flowed across it, northbound to Ithaca and south to 
Elmira.  

North Ratare stood up, feeling power surge through his 
body.  Something had changed, and he immediately 
recognized what the absence of pain meant.  The dull 
throbbing in his eye that had plagued him since his fight 
with Ezekiel Stone on New Year's Eve was finally gone.  

He lifted the eye patch experimentally.  His vision was 
strong and clear.  North grinned.  The molten steel, 
lodged there for months, was finally gone.  Ash had healed 
him; more correctly, she had taught him to heal himself.  

North raised his fists to the sky, calling Ezekiel Stone 
to him.  This would be their final battle, he knew, and he 
was determined to emerge the victor.

The only weapon he had was his Hellish powers.  But with 
the boons received from Ash, it would surely be enough.  
As a test, he focused on bird perched on the metal 
guardrail edging the road.  With only the slightest 
effort, it squawked and burst into flames, leaving a fiery 
trail to the water below.  

North laughed

* 

Stone was troubled as they continued on what they hoped 
was Ash's path.  Father Horn, who had comforted and guided 
him practically since his first night back, was dead.  It 
was a senseless, useless death, like the one that had 
claimed Leta Tharborough.  His sense of morality had 
forbidden him from executing Tad Tharborough, but there 
was no restriction on Father Horn's killer.  

North Ratare had been responsible for the priest's death.  
Stone swore a silent oath that he would pay for his latest 
infliction of suffering on the mortal world with an 
eternity of torment in the afterlife.  North was going 
back to hell, first chance that he got.

"Look," Lukas said, pointing at a bridge ahead.  "Isn't 
that one of them?"

Stone peered through the windshield.  A solitary figure 
stood in the center, guarding it.  "Sure is," he said. 
"It's North Ratare himself.  Just the man I wanted to 
see."

"We don't have time for this," Lukas warned.  "Just run 
him over."

North turned and pointed to the southern end of the 
bridge.  His target, an approaching delivery van, 
exploded, toppling over onto its side, blocking the 
northbound lane.  

Khris raised an eyebrow.  "Maybe we shouldn't get that 
close," he said.  

"Pull over," Stone ordered, his tone leaving no room for 
argument.  "I'll deal with him personally."

*

Dust blew across the bridge on this hot August day.  North 
Ratare, his eyes gleaming bright, watched as Ezekiel Stone 
approached him.  North had destroyed two other vehicles in 
the southbound lane, blocking all traffic across the 
bridge.  Twenty feet wide and a hundred long, this arena 
was for them alone.

North made a production of cracking his knuckles.  With 
his heightened control over his appearance and other 
hellish powers, maintaining the regenerated arm used only 
a small portion of his concentration.  He grinned, 
anticipating the conflict.  "This is it, isn't it, Mr. 
Stone?  I remember, the first time we met, you introduced 
yourself as John Gonner."

"Ten Rudely's little club," Stone reminisced, halting his 
advance ten feet away from his foe.  "You and your Dozen 
were there, but you fought me, one on one."  He nodded to 
the van.  "I'm just returning the favor.  You were losing, 
as I recall, when Ash stopped the fight."

North didn't dispute the fact.  "It was the other way 
around, on New Year's.  You were lucky then.  And in the 
bank."

Stone looked around pointedly, allowing himself a grin.  
"But she's not here this time, is she?"

"Nope," North agreed.  "She wants you dead now.  Told me 
twice, in fact, to kill you."

Stone shook his head.  "She knows we're coming to get her, 
but abandoned you, left you for dead.  Not a very good 
boss.  How many of your Dozen are left?  One?  Two?  It's 
almost over, North."

He ignored the barb.  "What about you?  Only one vehicle," 
North observed, nodding to the van.  "Looks like your crew 
is getting a little light, too.  Now drop that gun, and 
we'll finish this, just like we started."

"Your eye is looking good," Stone pointed out.  "Ash gave 
you a little boost, didn't she?  I think I'll hold onto 
the gun."

North shrugged.  "Whatever."  He thrust his right hand 
toward Stone, and fire leapt outward, a jet eighteen 
inches thick and twice as long as a man's height.  Stone 
jumped to one side, avoiding it by inches.  

The flare did not die out as expected, but continued to 
burn, fueled by North's Hellish powers.  Laughing 
fiendishly, North wielded the ray of fire like a sword, 
slashing through the air.  

The crackling blaze beat at his ears as Ezekiel Stone 
dodged and rolled, keeping his distance.  There could be 
no close combat against an opponent like this.  North 
advanced casually, determined to hurt him, but still 
concerned with buying time for his mistress.   

Stone circled, nearing the edge of the bridge.  He drew 
his gun and fired at North's eye.  North, already guarding 
against it, positioned the flame between the gun and his 
eyes, forcing Stone to shoot through it.  The bullet, no 
match for the fires of Hell, boiled into vapor as it 
passed through the flare.  Then, cooling in the air, it 
precipitated into powder and blew away.

Stone put his gun away.

North exploded into laughter.  "Giving up already, Stone?  
I have not yet begun to fight!"  He stepped toward him.  

Stone looked around for any other weapon he could use.  He 
backed up to the guard rails, concrete blocks waist high 
topped with a metal rail.  The rail was steel pipe, a foot 
in diameter and running the length of the bridge.  

Cutting through it was no problem.  He mentally ran 
through the montage of a priori images that Ash had shared 
with him, filling himself with the hatred and rage of the 
escaped souls.  As in the slum two days ago, the sequence 
was not quite enough to melt the metal.  He recalled the 
child he had found in the apartment and her condition, 
causing an immediate rise in his temperature.  He sliced 
through the center of the rail with a steaming right hand, 
feeling no pain from the liquefied metal.

North was still approaching, leaving him little time.  
Kneeling on the concrete, he wrapped his arms around the 
steel and lifted it, pulling twenty feet of the embedded 
piping free.  He pushed away, kinking the far end, and ran 
backward in a short arc, stopping after bending the steel 
a little more than ninety degrees.  Stone released his end 
of the railing and dashed to the opposite point, leaving 
the steel jutting out three feet above the ground.  

He remembered Father Horn as he moved, the way the priest 
had forced him to confront his sins, the way he'd always 
found time to listen to his problems.  Father Horn had 
provided the contacts that had led them to Ash before it 
was too late, and had died for it, killed by the man he 
fought against now.  Stone slashed a hand, superheated 
with rage, down through the steel, clattering the twenty 
foot pole to the ground.  

Picking up his makeshift weapon, Stone turned to face 
North Ratare.  The staff was awkward and unbalanced, but 
it would have to work.  

"Is that the best you can do?" North taunted him.  "You'll 
never hit me with that thing."

"I'm going to try," Stone promised.  "Watch out!"

Twisting his body, Stone swung the rod, planting his feet, 
leaning into the turn.  His range was considerably longer 
than North's flamethrower, but North was much more 
maneuverable.  He stepped easily out range, and met 
Stone's attack with a parry.  When the steel and fire met, 
the staff lost four feet of its length, tumbling to the 
ground.  Stone halted its movement.

"Now what, Stone?" North called.

Stone moved forward, picking up speed, beginning to swing 
the pipe back toward his enemy.  North saw it coming, and 
altered the path of the jet of fire, planning to intercept 
it again.  This time, however, as North sliced at the rod, 
Stone released it, letting momentum take it.  

North carried through his motion, striking the pipe, 
scorching the concrete beneath.  Air pockets in the cement 
popped and burst.  Stone ignored the steel's path.  His 
hands were free, and North was distracted.  In one fluid 
motion, Stone stepped backward, planting his weight firmly 
on his back foot, drawing his gun with his right hand 
while raising his left to steady it.  Before North Ratare 
knew what was coming, Stone fired twice.

The first shot was just a little high, passing through 
North's hair.  But the second hit solidly, shattering a 
window to North's soul and his concentration at the same 
time.  The flames from his hand ceased, and his right arm 
disappeared as he clapped his good left hand to the wound.

Like a bull, Stone charged him, head down, leading with 
his shoulder.  He struck his target squarely, driving him 
backwards, all the way to the guard rail on the other 
side, and then over.  Locked together in a death spiral, 
the two men plunged into the water below.  

"My eye!" North howled, his fingers jammed against the 
glowing socket.  "Not again!"

The river was shallow there, and Stone reared back with a 
fist as he stood up.  "Again!" he echoed, punching North 
Ratare in the jaw.  "You're going back!"

"No," he screamed, toppling back.  "We were so close.  So 
close."  

Stone kicked him.  "Tell me where Ash is."

North shrieked, "Never!  You'll never have her back!"

Grabbing him by the lapels, Stone lifted him up.  "Tell 
me!" he demanded, bashing North's head against a rock for 
punctuation.  "Where is she going!"

"I don't know!" yelped North.  

Stone trained his gun on the prostrate man.  "Then what 
good are you?" he asked, firing into North's remaining 
eye.  Blue light spewed upwards, mixing with the water 
that flowed over North's dissolving shape.  He cried out 
one final time, protesting the injustice of his demise, 
and then was gone.

The rage that had fueled Stone drained away, leaving him 
feeling empty.  The destruction of the tattoo was the 
final straw, the pain sapping his remaining strength.  He 
sat down heavily in the water. 

He was still resting there when Lukas and Khris came to 
find him.  "Nice work," Lukas told him, helping him to 
stand.

"Thanks."  Stone allowed himself to be led up the south 
embankment and back into the vehicle; Lukas and Khris, 
with their supernatural strength had cleared a path for 
the van through the wreckage.  "Let's get going."

"I talked to Kane while you were... busy," Sophia said.  
"He found a receipt in the house.  Luke Choi rented a 
warehouse in Elmira two days ago.  I've got the address."

"Good deal," Stone said weakly.  "Let's go."


Chapter Ten : Death Toll Rising

In the looming twilight, the abandoned shelves in the 
warehouse looked like skeletons of creatures from a 
mythical age.  A half dozen arc lights, shining 
apathetically, kept the building from complete darkness.  
Dust and cobwebs were the only remaining decorations.  

"What a pit," Lizzy Darke observed.

Nasya opened the tailgate of the station wagon and lifted 
her charge out.  "Lizzy, give me a hand," she ordered.  
Ash nestled weakly in the angel's arms.  "Open the office 
door for me."  There was a room in back that served as an 
office.  

Lizzy did, trying the light switch.  Surprisingly, it 
worked, providing a stingy forty watts of light to the 
room, illuminating an overturned file cabinet, a cheap 
desk inclined with a broken leg, and a decrepit chair.  
Various litter was sprinkled around the room.

"The desk," Nasya directed.  "Level it out."

Lizzy overturned the desk and broke the other legs to the 
same length.  She righted it, and tested to see if it 
still wobbled.  It did slightly, but hardly at all 
compared to its previous condition.  

"North!" Ash called out.  "North!"

Settling the delirious woman on the makeshift table, Nasya 
spoke soothingly to her.  "He'll be here in a little 
while, okay?"

"North!  Don't let him get me!"

Nasya turned to Lizzy.  "The child is ready to come out," 
she said.  "Go get me blankets, and water.  Now!"

Lizzy hurried back to the car.  Obadiah was setting up his 
equipment on the hood of the car, and Jessica Post had 
climbed up the shelves like a scaffolding, keeping watch 
outside with their last machine gun from her improvised 
guard tower.

"How's she doing?" Obadiah asked.  

"Anytime now," Lizzy replied, the words echoing through 
her head in the silent building.  Ash would give birth, 
and what would happen then?  Darkness would certainly fall 
on this planet, and the people here.  Ash professed to 
want to make the world a better place, but Lizzy had seen 
her callous disregard for human life over the last year.  
Ash had even sacrificed her own daughter, Seri; it was the  
crime she had been damned to Hell for.  

She had the opportunity to destroy her now, if she was 
brave enough.  It would mean her own death as well, for 
when Ash's soul was returned to Hell, all those who had 
followed her in the escape would be sent back as well.  
Lizzy hoped that she had earned redemption during the last 
year; but the priest she had spoken with had suggested 
suicide would return to her Hell, no matter what.  

Still debating, she carried the blankets and other 
supplies Nasya had brought into the office.  The angel 
didn't even look at her, simply commented on how long it 
had taken, and told her to get out.

When she had first met Nasya, a month ago, she had been a 
quiet, gentle soul.  She had changed since then, growing 
more bitter and cruel after spending the time with Ash, 
especially since being selected as her midwife several 
weeks ago.  Was this an isolated example?

Lizzy made her decision.  Not quite ready to act on it, 
she dug among her pockets for a worn business card and 
reviewed the phone number on it.  This had to be done 
first.

*

"The warehouse is right around here somewhere," Khris 
reported.  

"We've got to do it this time," Stone told Sophia.  "We're 
lucky to have had this many chances."

"I guess Lizzy decided against destroying Ash," Sophia 
said.  

Stone shrugged.  "I guess we weren't that lucky.  But hey, 
you reminded me, she might have tried to contact me 
through that message service."  He took out his cell phone 
and dialed.

*

Obadiah lounged on the hood of the station wagon, waited 
patiently for the child of fire to be born so the portal 
to heaven could be created.  He cleaned his gun, a simple 
task that kept him busy.  

A red bulb lit up on the equipment next to him.  He 
flipped a switch, and the sound of a telephone ringing 
could be heard.  Obadiah pressed the record button on a 
tape recorder, and the reels began to turn.

"Spiral Message Service," a woman said.  "How may I help 
you?"

"This is Ezekiel Stone," Obadiah heard, followed by an 
account number.  "I'm checking to see if there have been 
any messages for me."  This likely meant North Ratare was 
gone, if Stone was still in pursuit.  At least they were 
well hidden here.  

A short pause, and the woman spoke again.  "Why, just a 
few minutes ago, from a woman who gave her name as Lizzy."

Obadiah started violently.  The same Lizzy that was in 
this very building?  Stone had a source inside Ashur's 
inner circle, spying for him, giving him information?  
That was worse then their tap on his phone.  

*

Lizzy entered the office again, casually locking the door 
behind her.  Ash was moaning loudly now, and Nasya knelt 
before her, encouraging her to push.  

"Anything I can do to help?" Lizzy asked, hiding the gun 
behind her back as she approached.

*
 
Obadiah listened in growing horror as Lizzy described 
their current location, Ashur's condition, and finally 
announced her intention to destroy Ashur.  As an 
afterthought, she revealed that his phone had been 
compromised, and that it was how Ash had known his plans.  
Obadiah was rooted to his spot, wanting to run and protect 
her, but afraid of missing any information.  As the 
message ended, he stood up, ready to move.

Jessica was watching him from above.  "Anything useful?" 
she asked.

"Lizzy," he blurted out, "Where is she?  Never mind.  Keep 
a lookout, Stone's on his way.  All of them, they're 
coming!"

*

Stone closed his phone, then broke it in half.

"What did you find out?" Sophia demanded. 

"They're in the warehouse," he said, dazed.  "But they've 
been listening in on my phone.  That's why they've been 
expecting us, every time we get close.  Damn."

"We're here," Khris announced, halting the van.  "So much 
for the element of surprise."

"She hasn't done it yet," Stone realized.  "Her tattoo 
hasn't disappeared.  We've got to get in there, fast."

*

"Obadiah," Jessica yelled from her post.  "That van just 
pulled up!  They're here."

"Take them out!" he ordered.

*

"It's a boy," Nasya announced.  The child was unnaturally 
silent as he came into the world, but energetically moving 
his arms and legs.  

"Levi," Ash announced.  "My son.  Let me hold him."

"Of course," Nasya replied.  "Let me tie off the umbilical 
cord."

There was a heavy pounding on the door, and Obadiah yelled 
through it, "Ashur, watch out.  Lizzy's trying to kill 
you!"

"Good bye, Ash," Lizzy said, interrupting, lifting her 
gun.  "Sorry."  She fired twice at her eyes, two perfectly 
aimed shots.

*

Sophia had just opened the van's cargo door when gunfire 
erupted.  Jessica Post fired repeatedly into the van 
through the warehouse windows from her position above and 
to the left of them.  

The Devil disappeared in a flash, traveling instantly down 
to Hell.  "Neat trick," Sophia said wryly.

From the front seat, Khris screamed.  The machine gun fire 
had destroyed his eyes, and now his soul disappeared 
upward in a white mist.

"Go!" Lukas shouted, and the three of them sprinted for 
the building's front door, managing to return fire as they 
ran.  Behind them, the van's gas tank exploded, flipping 
the vehicle onto its side.

*

The bullets raced through the air, one after the other, 
aimed for Ash's eyes.  As the three women watched, the 
metal slugs slowed, then, quivering as their momentum 
fought against the force that held them back, they stopped 
completely.  

"It was you," Ash accused.  "You killed Lulu, not Stone."   
Obadiah continued to pound on the door, demanding 
entrance.

Lizzy said nothing.  The infant was watching her, his 
newborn eyes sharply focused and burning with hellfire. 
Levi made a spasmodic gesture with his hand, and the 
bullets clattered across the room, swatted away by 
something unseen.  

Lizzy lowered her gun in response to the weight she felt 
on her arm.  A gentle, uniform pressure caressed the front 
of her body, as though she was walking into a warm summer 
wind.  

Nasya was still observing this.  "I think you'd better 
run," she told Lizzy.  

"I can't move," Lizzy whimpered.

Again, Levi waved with his hand.  This time Lizzy Darke 
was knocked away, through the wall, and out into the 
warehouse. 

The child made its first sound, something that sounded 
like an attempt at laughter.

*

The front doors of the building were locked.  "Sorry about 
Khris," Stone told Lukas. 

"There's time for that later," he said, punching through 
the door and groping blindly for the lock.  "Let's finish 
this first."

*

"Lizzy?"  Jessica asked from up on her tower.  "Is it 
true?"  Lizzy picked herself up off the floor.  "Did you 
turn on Ash?  After all that she's done for us?"

Lizzy looked around, debating which way to run.  "Answer 
me," Jessica demanded.  "We've been friends, how could you 
betray us?"  When no response came, Jessica fired a 
warning shot across the floor.  "Well?"

Lizzy sighed.  "I did what I though was right," she 
replied.

"Traitor," Jessica cursed, pulling the trigger, sending 
round after round into Lizzy's shell.  Two struck her 
eyes, shattering the windows to her soul.

*

Ezekiel Stone was the first one through the door.  He had 
a split second to recognize Lizzy Darke before the ether 
light flooded from her body.  "Look," he said to Lukas and 
Sophia, awestruck.  "She's earned her redemption."

The light that flowed from Lizzy's eyes was as white as 
fresh snow.  She gave no cry of pain, but rather seemed 
amazed, in wonderment of the process.  The white mist 
swirled around her, tornado like, and then spiraled 
higher.  Her form, still faintly bipedal, rose with it, 
stretching toward infinity.

Stone felt her tattoo disappear from his body.  Instead of 
the sharp pain he related with the experience, this was 
softer, as though a warm washcloth was gently rubbing it 
away.  He touched the spot in surprise, and filed the 
memory away for later.

"Hey!" Jessica shouted, spotting Stone and his friends.  
"They're in here," she called to the others.  

"Come on," urged Lukas.  With Stone at his side, they 
charged the shelving that Jessica was perched on.  Each 
grabbed a corner and lifted, ignoring the bullets clanging 
around them.  The metal creaked and groaned, and then the 
shelving began to tip.  Jessica cried out as she fell.

The shelves landed on top of the station wagon parked 
below, caving in the roof with a deafening roar.  The 
machine gun clattered to the ground, sliding across the 
concrete.  Jessica was tangled in the metal frame, and 
Sophia opened fire.  

"The office," Lukas cried, "Quick!"  

The blankets and other supplies in the empty room were 
proof enough that the child of fire had been born.  But 
the damning evidence was the white portal that swirled in 
the floor.  Three feet in diameter, a mist rose gently 
from it, much like the kind that had appeared around Lizzy 
Darke.  

"Is that what I think it is?" Stone asked softly.

"You've failed, Mr. Stone," the Devil told him, appearing 
in the far corner.  He walked next to the circle, and 
stared at it.  "Ash and your son, Levi, are in Heaven 
right now, along with your quarry, Detective Lukas."  His 
face looked even more devilish than usual, lit from 
underneath by the glowing portal.  

Sophia ran into the room.  "She got away, watch your 
backs," she warned.  Then, seeing the gateway, asked, "Is 
that what we don't want it to be?"

Stone nodded.  "We've got to go after them."

Lukas grinned.  "We're just coordinating our efforts for 
greater efficiency, right?"  Stone chuckled as the angel 
stepped forward.

"You're too late," warned the Devil.  "You'll be spending 
all eternity down below, Mr. Stone.  You've blown your 
second chance."  

"It's closing," Sophia said.  "Look!"  The portal had 
diminished by a third.  

"I'll take point," Lukas said.  "I've been there before."

Stone nodded.  "See you on the other side."

Lukas walked onto the glowing circle.  His eyes remained 
intact, but his form collapsed, combining with the mist at 
his feet.  The glow increased, and a ray of light shot 
upward for three seconds.  

"You next," Stone said to Sophia.  She nodded.  "I'm 
afraid you're not invited," he told his employer.

Sophia took a deep breath and looked to Stone for 
reassurance.  He nodded, and she stepped into the portal.  

Nothing happened.

"Did I break it?" she cried.

The Devil strode over to Stone and tapped him twice on the 
forehead with an extended index finger.  "Think, Mr. 
Stone.  No one can go to heaven while they're still 
alive."

Sophia jumped away.  "Hurry, Zeke, it's closing.  You've 
got to go now."

"Get out of my way," Stone barked at the Devil, trying 
reaching the fading portal.  

The Devil made an effort to step aside; he backed up to 
allow Stone access.  But Ezekiel, in his impatience, 
attempted to go around him to reach the portal.  Whatever 
their intentions, each hurried into the same space and 
crashed into each other, falling over.

"Oh my God," Sophia said.  In the tumble, the Devil had 
sprawled across the misty circle, and his shape dissolved, 
combining with the white vapor there.  Again, a ray of 
light launched upward, but when it ceased, nothing 
remained behind.

The portal had closed.

Stone gaped, unable to find words.  Sophia spoke first.  
"What do we do now?"

"I've got to get up there," Stone said.  

"But you can't.  The gateway is gone."

"Have faith, Sophia."  Stone faced her, arms open wide.  
"You can send me there."

"What!"

"I believe," he said simply.  "I've changed, I've made up 
for my sins.  If Lizzy Darke could do it, so can I.  Send 
me there, Sophia."

She searched his face.  "Are you serious?  You want me 
to...?"

"It's the only way," he said.  "Hurry, there isn't much 
time."

Sophia raised her gun.  "Good luck, Stone.  God speed."

Stone quirked a smile.  "Just tell my wife – tell Rosalyn 
– that I love her."

"I will."  Stone stood there, feet together, arms open 
wide, accepting his death.  His expression was peaceful as 
Sophia fired twice.


Chapter Eleven : War in the Streets

White.

The first connection his mind made was that he was in the 
middle of a blizzard, in a white-out.  The light coming 
from the sky was colorless, the ground he stood on 
blanketed in white, great drifts of it everywhere.  It was 
solid enough to walk on, and he began to explore his 
surroundings.

Still dressed in his usual clothes, Ezekiel Stone took in 
his first view of heaven.  He was awestruck.  Where seeing 
Hell inspired feelings of sadness and self-loathing, his 
heart here was bursting with love.  The smile pasted 
across his face felt like a permanent expression; he could 
not imagine a situation in this peaceful place that would 
ever cause him any unhappiness. 

Heaven!  It was a wonderful place. 

He let out a joyful yell.  There was something he was 
supposed to be doing, he thought, but it could wait.  
There was no hurry here, no need to rush.  

"Stone!" 

He heard his name called, but it wasn't important.  There 
were two men rushing over to him.  They looked vaguely 
familiar, and he spread his arms as a welcome.  

"Stone, what are you doing over here?  Come on, we've got 
to hurry!" Lukas shouted.  

"Lukas," Stone said, recalling his friend's name.  "Why 
didn't you tell me?  How perfect this place is?  You 
should shout it from the street corners."  He turned to 
the Devil.  "And you!  How can you act the way you do, 
knowing this exists?  How can you encourage people to turn 
their backs on this place?"

"You know what he's done, don't you?" the Devil said to 
Lukas.  "He's been judged."  The Devil scowled.  "He's no 
longer damned."

Lukas slapped Stone across the face, but his beatific 
expression remained unaltered.  "No, no, no," the Devil 
chastised the angel, "You've got to put some english on 
it!"  Wham!  Stone's head rocked back, sparking amusement 
from the Devil.  

"Thanks," Stone said, rubbing his jaw.  His eyes were more 
focused now.  "I needed that.  Let's go find Ash."

The Devil shook his head.  "I have no business here.  I'll 
just wait, and enjoy this while it lasts."

"It's good to be home," Lukas agreed.  "But look over 
there."  He pointed.  

The Pearly Gates, gateway into Heaven, had stood for 
millennia untarnished.  Hundreds of feet tall and 
proportionally wide, they were an impressive display to 
further awe arriving pilgrims.

There was only one problem now.  The Gates had shattered 
and fallen.

"Levi's been here," Lukas said.  "We've got to hurry."

*

It had been eons since there had been open conflict in 
Heaven, but the immortal inhabitants had long memories.  
As soon as the first crack appeared in the Pearly Gates, 
legions of angels raced to the armories and armed 
themselves with fiery swords.  

Four beings crossed the rubble of the Gates onto the 
golden streets.  Two were angels, Obadiah, one of the 
oldest and most respected of God's followers, and Nasya, a 
grigori once known for her gentle nature.  They followed a 
woman clad in robes of a long forgotten religion, those 
dedicated to worshiping Asherah, the Serpent Queen.  A 
young child, no more than six, walked at her side and 
clutched her hand tightly.  

"This way," Obadiah directed.  Straight ahead, the Throne 
of God could be seen.  Some immeasurable quality drew the 
eye to it.  In this flawless land, it was somehow more 
perfect than all else.

The first of the opposition arrived.  Obadiah, using a 
blade he had formed for the very purpose, defended Ashur 
and her child.  He succeeded in driving off several 
angels.  The forces of Heaven began to arrive in greater 
numbers, and the attacks on the invading party halted.

There was a great rustling in front of them as a legion of 
angels formed.  Standing side by side, shoulder to 
shoulder, the army stretched from one side of the street 
to the other, as far as the eye could see.

Obadiah strode to the center, presenting himself to those 
assembled.  "Brothers!" he boomed.  "We have lived and 
worked together for time immemorial, and I thank you for 
listening to my words.  I return today to offer you 
something that He has never given us – a choice."

There was a quiet murmuring among the assembly.  He 
continued, "I stand here before you, telling you that this 
is your best chance to take free will.  I say take, 
because He will never give it to you, not in His kingdom.  
Not here, where dissent is forbidden.  Not here, where 
there is no viewpoint but His.  Even now, you line up, 
ready to fight to the death because He has ordered it.

"Brothers!  Now is the time!  Cast off your chains, reach 
out and seize your freedom!  Choose to serve Him of your 
own free will, or fight against those who wish you to 
remain enslaved!  Risk everything in this one moment – it 
may never come again!"

His words, powerful and inspiring, caused much 
disagreement among the ranks.  "To The Throne!" Obadiah 
bellowed, and charged forward.  Ashur and Levi were close 
behind, the child running with all the agility of his ten 
year old form.  

The wave of angels dissolved, some fighting against each 
other, others falling in to flank the would-be liberators.  
Blades lashed out at young Levi.  He gave them no 
recognition, simply ignored them as they sliced through 
his form.  No wound or line marked their passage. 

Nasya screamed as she was attacked, a sharp sword piercing 
her eyes; destroying her form and sending her soul 
plunging downward.  Her companions did not slow, but 
pressed onward.

*

"Ah... this brings back memories," the Devil announced, 
catching his first view of the angels battling amongst 
themselves.  "They were the good old days." 

"Yeah, I'm sure we'd all love to reminisce with you," 
Stone said dryly, "But we've got to hurry."

Lukas led them quickly through the fighting.  One side 
appeared to be winning, although there was no way of 
telling what that represented.  A scattered trail of 
bodies marked their path as they approached the Heavenly 
Throne.

The trio halted as God Himself came into view.  "Look," 
Lukas said, "Look.  It's Him."  There was no doubt about 
the Him in question.  God projected an aura of peace and 
love that Ezekiel felt in his very soul, even greater then 
he had experienced with Rosalyn.  

The Devil had no comment, but the impact on him was 
apparent.  His fierce demeanor faded away into awe, his 
usually malevolent smile was replaced by one of happiness.

Lukas was grinning too, as he directed, "We're almost 
there.  Come on."  He grabbed the others by an arm, and 
pulled them onward.  

*

"Do you remember me?" Ashur crowed as she approached God.  
"You changed the rules on me.  You claimed my act of love 
and honor was a mortal sin."

The Throne of God stood at the top of a short flight of 
stairs.  It was made of light, appearing both solid and 
transparent at the same time.  To see it was to marvel at 
its beauty.

God sat there, His expression calm, undisturbed in the 
slightest by this invasion.  He wore simple white robes, 
and waited patiently for Ashur to continue.  

"I wasn't wrong," she insisted, "you were.  We're here to 
make sure it never happens again."

Levi stood at her side, muscular arms folded defiantly 
across his chest.  A teenager now, he was the same height 
as Ashur.  Obadiah stood back, watching for any attack 
against them.

"I've waited four thousand years for this," Ashur 
continued.  "I want to hear you admit you made a mistake."

"No," God replied, in a warm androgynous voice.  His 
refusal contained no tint of anger.  "I will not recant.  
Do what you will."

Levi climbed the stairs, standing tall.  Nothing in his 
actions hinted at the slightest display of respect or 
deference.  He stopped, meeting eyes with the King of 
Kings.

"This is your last chance," Ashur cried.  "Will you say 
it?"

"I will not recant!" God bellowed.

Levi struck.

*

"Look," Alexandra Gray said, pointing up at the early 
evening skies.  She and the remaining members of Stone's 
party traveled south on Highway 13 in Father Mitzer's car.

The clouds bubbled and boiled, spreading, growing, and 
blocking the moon from view.  The churning sky gave off a 
red glow, tinting the countryside with the Devil's color.  

"This is bad," Father Pirastis said.

*

All over heaven, angels dropped their swords and cried 
out.  Their Lord and Master led the cry, screaming in 
anguish as He was defeated.  The ground shook, trembling 
in upheaval, sending cracks across the land.  

Lukas and the Devil responded like the other angels, 
clapping their hands over their ears, hoping to blot out 
the shrieking that echoed across Heaven even as they added 
their own voices to the chorus.  

Ezekiel Stone felt a stabbing pain, as God's love 
disappeared.  It was ice that replaced it, leaving him 
cold and hurt.  He watched as Levi stood, still holding 
his hand out where God's eyes had been just a moment 
before.  The last of His essence faded, and a deathly 
silence fell over the kingdom.

Levi turned to face those around him.  He appeared 
eighteen, a young adult with all the experience and 
knowledge of his parents.  For the first time, he spoke.  
"Listen to me," he called.  "Do not weep for that which is 
gone."  With all eyes focused on him, he sat on the Throne 
of God.

His face softened, and His clothes grew into long white 
robes.  Ezekiel felt the stirrings of love and warmth 
again, weaker, but moving.  Levi smiled broadly and looked 
down on His subjects.  "Weep," He said, "For I am the Lord 
your God."

Lukas knelt and picked up a fallen sword.  Silently, he 
charged at his prey, the rogue angel Obadiah, whose 
attention was fixated on the throne.  With a mighty slash, 
he cut through the skull, destroying Obadiah's eyes. 

"No!" Ash protested, as Obadiah's soul bubbled darkly 
forth, pooling around at his feet.  It was a clear sign 
that his soul was destined for someplace warmer.  "He's 
not to be damned!  He's to remain here!"  Lukas dropped 
the sword and stepped back.

"Accessory to the crime of deicide," Levi pronounced, 
"Betrayer of his Lord.  Such an influential spirit can not 
be allowed to continue in this place."  The last of 
Obadiah's soul disappeared into the ground.

"That's not the deal I made with him," Ash argued.  "I 
want him back."

"Mother," Levi said with finality.  "You are in no 
position to make deals.  My judgment is final."

Ash gaped at the dismissal.  Her hopes of controlling Levi 
as a puppet were dashed.  Still, she was confident that 
she would be able to influence him.  

"Let the child known as Seri Badaktu be brought to me," 
Levi commanded.  "I wish to see my sister."

Stone watched his son.  It had been his mistake that had 
brought these events into being.  Now, the responsibility 
for correcting them fell to him, although not exactly as 
he had feared.  He would not be forced to slaughter a 
young infant for the good of the world; rather, he must 
attack against a creature many times stronger than 
himself.  

Stone grinned.  He'd been doing this for years.

"Father," Levi commanded. "Come forth."

He felt a nudge in the direction of the Throne.  Levi 
vacated the chair, and came down the stairs to meet him, 
sitting on the lowest step.  He indicated that Stone 
should do the same.

"Father," He said, "What are you doing here?"

Stone smiled.  This close to God, the sense of love and 
kindness was smothering.  He reached out and put his left 
arm around his son, increasing the emotions by several 
orders of magnitude.  "I followed you," he said. 

"I've lived your life," Levi said.  "I know everything you 
know, felt everything you've felt, up until New Year's.  I 
know you always wanted a son.  I've still got a lot of 
growing to do, and I want you to be here with me.  All of 
us."

"Mother?" a girl cried.  Young Seri, still appearing 
twelve years old, ran to Ashur and they embraced tightly.  
"You finally made it!"

"We'll be a family," Levi said, "the four of us.  It's 
just what you've always wanted, it's what we all want."

"It sounds perfect," Stone said.  He smiled sadly.

"Father?" He asked.  "Why are you troubled?"

"I'm sorry," Stone said to his son.  "I'm sorry, my son."  
He reached out with his right hand, swinging his fingers 
out, forcing Levi's head down to meet them.  His digits 
slipped into the eye sockets, annihilating them.  Stone 
leapt back, away from the destruction he expected.

Nothing happened.

Levi turned to look at him with vacant eyes.  "Is that 
what you really want?" He asked, His voice hard.  As Stone 
stared in wonderment, the eyes grew back, and met his 
gaze.  "You would kill your own son?"

"It won't work," Lukas said.  "He's a being of negative 
energy.  Only a damned soul can hurt Him."

"But, I'm..." Stone stuttered.

"Not anymore," Levi reminded him.  "You've been rejudged, 
remember?  Made it in here on appeal.  You're no longer 
damned, Father."

Ash laughed hysterically.  "It's over, Zeke.  There's 
nothing you, or anyone can do about it."


Chapter Twelve: Judgment Day

Levi, Seri and Ashur talked animatedly together, making 
plans for the future.  Stone, imprisoned in the grip of 
two of Levi's angels, could only watch and try to come up 
with a plan.  Lukas and the Devil were held in the same 
way, awaiting the new God's judgment.  

Ignoring the guards, Stone spoke to the Devil.  "It's up 
to you."

"What?" the Devil chuckled. 

"I can't stop him, neither can Lukas.  You're the only 
damned one here, other than Ash, and I don't think she'd 
destroy her son.  So you've got to do it."

"That's quite the absurd fantasy, Mr. Stone.  I have no 
intention of doing any such thing."

"Just once, do the right thing," Stone argued.  "Doesn't 
being here again make you feel good about yourself?  Help 
me fix this."

"No, I don't think so," The Devil said with finality.  
"Let Him run things for a few centuries, we'll see how it 
goes."

Levi again climbed to the Throne and seated Himself there.  
"Things will be different under my rule," he announced.  
"I will command a general reprieve for those unfairly 
damned in the past."  Ash smiled, her goal of 4,000 years 
achieved.  "Come forth, Mother."  

Ash climbed the steps and knelt before Him.  He touched 
her lightly on the head.  "Your home is no longer among 
the cast down.  You shall reside here, with me, always."

"Thank you, my son," she said, rising and kissing him on 
the cheek.  

"Where is the priest?" Levi called.  "Bring him to me!"  
Dismissed, Ash went back down the steps.

Father Horn approached and looked around.  His injuries 
had been healed, his sight restored.  "What goes on here?" 
he demanded, looking around.  "Ezekiel?  Is that you?"

"We've lost, Father Horn," Stone answered.  

"Cletus Horn," Levi pronounced.  "You bear the dubious 
honor of being the last priest of the Catholic Church to 
be allowed into Heaven."

Father Horn ascended the steps and locked eyes with Levi.  
"What?"

"The Church is finished," Levi said. "Monotheistic 
religion is ended.  The old Gods will return, to lead 
their followers how they may.  To ease this transition, I 
wish the Church to allocate its lands across the world for 
the founding of new temples.  You are to be my messenger 
in this, Cletus.  I shall send you back to Earth to begin 
the dismantling of the bloated corpse."

"I protest," Father Horn said, "This is wrong."

"Your desires matter not," Levi replied.  "It is my 
command, and you will obey me."

Father Horn reached inside his robes and withdrew his 
golden cross.  "Jesus died for our sins," he said, 
"purchased our redemption with His blood.  Billions 
believe this.  How can you deny them their heavenly 
reward?"

Stone started when he saw the token Father Horn displayed.  
It looked very familiar.

The cross offended Levi.  "I do not wish to see that pagan 
artifact," he pronounced.  

"As you command," Father Horn said.  With that, he plunged 
the golden cross into Levi's eyes.

Levi shrieked.  "No!"  Black light tumbled from the 
punctured sockets, cascading down the stairs, spreading 
the stain of Levi's soul.  "It can't be," he protested, as 
his form dissolved.  The energy pooled at the bottom of 
the stairs.  A beam of dark light shot upward to infinity.  

As God died, Heaven mourned.  The ground shook and quaked, 
more powerfully then before.  Every choir of angel added 
their voice to Levi's shriek, a terrible scream that shook 
the walls of as much as the earthquakes.  

The angels that held Stone prisoner released him, clapping 
their hands to their ears, hoping to dull the overpowering 
cry.  Free now, Levi destroyed, there was only one thing 
left for him to do.  He charged forward, scooping up a 
fallen sword, the same one that Lukas had used to finish 
Obadiah.

Ash was going down.

*

Sophia D'Amato was still in the warehouse office.  There 
was still a damned soul running around here somewhere who 
might hold a grudge.  She'd retrieved the machine gun that 
had been dropped, and pointed it alternately at the hole 
in the wall and the door.    

Her cell phone refused to pick up a signal here, inside 
the metal building.  Perhaps Kane was trying to call her, 
but she couldn't know for sure.  Maybe the woman had left, 
she hoped.  However, about five minutes earlier, there had 
been an ominous sign.

The warehouse lights had gone out.  

For now, the lone bulb in the office still burned.  It was 
the only source of light she had, and she treasured it.  

A woman's face peered through the hole in the wall.  
Sophia squeezed the trigger of her weapon, sending a spray 
of bullets after her stalker.  There was no answering blue 
light to indicate a hit.

"How much ammo do you have left?" asked a voice.

"Enough," Sophia answered firmly.  "Come on in, and I'll 
show you."

Jessica Post laughed.  "Soon," she promised.

*

Heaven still shook, mourning His death.  Father Horn, 
unsteady on his feet, grabbed onto the Throne for balance.  
Another tremor rocked the steps, and he sat down firmly.

*

Stone had hoped to reach Ash while the shock of their 
son's death still immobilized her.  But at the sight of 
his rapid approach, she turned and fled.  He raced after 
her.

Ash sprinted back toward the Pearly Gates, slowing to pick 
up one of the swords that littered the ground.  Around 
them, angels were recovering, their shrieking dying away.  

"Ash!" Stone yelled.  "Let's finish this!"

"You've got to catch me first," she shouted back.

At the pile of rubble that had marked the Gates, Ash 
scrambled up.  Her foot caught a loose piece, and she 
tumbled back down just as Stone reached her.  

"Okay," she hissed.  "You want to fight?  Let's go!"

They raised their swords, and began to circle each other.

*

Sophia fired again at the woman peering into the room, 
driving her away.  It was a matter of time... but who 
would win?  

Her ammunition was running low, but she had to buy time.  
Will knew where she was; he would come find her. 

*

Father Mitzer's car approached the warehouse.  It had 
taken superficial wounds in the firefight, but the engine 
had been spared.  Alex had changed the flat tire.  

Their headlights splashed across the charred remains of 
the van.  "I hope they are all right," Father Mitzer said. 

"I can only feel one being inside," Alex whispered.  "It 
could be Stone, I don't know."

"It could be trouble," Kane said. 

* 

"How did he do it?" Ash demanded, holding her blade 
defensively.  "How could he kill Levi like that?  The 
priest was never damned."

"The cross," Stone told her.  "It belonged to Luskus 
Delph, remember him?  He gave it away before I sent him 
back, but the cross remained.  Somehow it made its way to 
Father Horn.  It was a very unlikely chain of events.  
Makes you wonder if there is someone else up there, 
watching over things."

"This is it," Ash scoffed.  "There's no higher power."

"Maybe you're right," Stone replied.  "But you witnessed 
two Gods die today.  Who judges them?  Where do they go, 
after they leave this plane of existence?"

* 

"Sophia?" Kane called into the warehouse.  "Are you in 
there?"

"Stone?" Alex yelled.  

There was a faint glow of light coming from the office.  
"Look out," Sophia warned them.  "There's a damned soul 
running around here."

Alex strained to hear Sophia across the floor.  "I'm going 
in there," she said.  

"Wait," Kane said.  "Can you sense anything?"

"They're over there," Alex said, pointing into the 
darkness.  

"Who's there?" Kane yelled.  "Identify yourself!"  There 
was no reply.  "Okay, Alex, take them out."

Alex shook her head, but raised her gun.  She fired into 
the darkness.  "They're moving," she reported.  She pulled 
the trigger again.

*

Their blades clanged together, neither gaining an 
advantage.  "Your Hell powers are useless here, aren't 
they?" Stone challenged.  

Ash counterattacked, striking with enough force that Stone 
took a step back to keep from falling.  "You can't defeat 
me," she hissed. 

"You thought the same thing about Levi," Stone replied, 
swinging his blade at her eyes.  She blocked easily.  "But 
he's gone now."

"You just tried to kill your own son," she reminded him.  
"How dare you judge me for Seri."

"Can I judge you for what you've done the last two years?" 
Stone asked.  "You unleashed demons on earth, tried to 
murder thousands on top of thousands.  You've burned 
churches, sent your crews out to rob and kill.  You should 
be damned for that, if nothing else."

Ash's blade flashed out, jabbing at him.  Stone knocked it 
aside.  "I was given absolution," she said.

"So put the sword down.  You've got nothing to fear, 
right?"

Ash charged, locking weapons with him.  She shoved 
forwards, sending him tumbling to the ground.  Swinging 
her blade around, she aimed a blow at his head.

*

Alex continued to fire in the direction that she sensed 
the damned soul.  Finally, her gun clicked empty.  "I'm 
out," she warned Kane.  Ejecting the clip, she looked up 
suddenly.  "It's coming this way!"

A trail of blue fire marked the path as Jessica Post flew 
through the air.  Kane fired once before being knocked 
over.  The damned soul flared around Alex, stripping her 
gun away, carrying her off.

"Alex!" Kane called.  "Are you all right?"

"Throw the weapon away," Jessica commanded.  

"How do I know you won't kill her?" Kane asked. 

"She's my insurance policy.  Do it!"  Kane set his weapon 
on the floor.  "Now tell the woman in the office to come 
out.  And to leave the machine gun behind."

"I heard you," Sophia called.  "Let her go, first."

"On the count of three, I'm going to snap her neck.  One.  
Two."

"Okay," Sophia said, stepping out of the office empty 
handed.  "Now let her go."

Jessica ignored her.  "Now, tell the others to come in 
here.  We're all going to wait together."

*

Stone ducked under the blade aimed at his head.  He 
quickly climbed back on his feet, just in time to block 
another blow by Ash.

"Is that the best you've got?" he asked.

Ash swung again, and again he parried.  "I offered you 
everything," she said.  "We could have had it all."

"There was one thing missing."

"What's that?"

"Love," he said simply.  "I could never love you.  I 
thought maybe I could, once, but I was wrong."

Enraged, she charged at him.  He rolled away, letting her 
get past him.  Before she could turn around, he was on his 
feet, swinging for her eyes.

The blade passed through the back of her head, slicing 
through the middle of her skull.  Ash whirled around, 
feeling the cut but not yet understanding.

"Good bye, Ash," he said.

She tilted her head to one side in a gesture of non-
comprehension.  A line appeared around the middle of her 
head, and the top half slid neatly aside.  Her eyes 
exploded, and blue light shot upwards like a Roman candle.  

Stone stood there, resting on his sword, watching as the 
ringleader of the escape screamed.  Her death cry seemed 
to go on forever.  Her shape collapsed slowly, first her 
head disappearing, then the shoulders, her waist, and on 
down.  It was the largest display of pyrotechnics he had 
ever seen.

Stone braced himself for the remaining tattoos to 
disappear.  He remembered when Judas Booth had slaughtered 
a whole group of the damned at one time; the resulting 
pain had knocked him out.  This would be worse.

*

"Come out with your hands up!"

On the other side of the country, Felix Crandall stalked 
to the front window of the bank, grinning fiercely.  He 
wore no disguise, or made any effort to block the security 
cameras.  The people who would recognize him were hundreds 
of years in the past, and a half world away; he feared 
nothing in the new world.

A dozen police cars lined up down the block, lights 
flashing.  "You'll never take me alive!" Felix screamed.  
It was true, of course.  "Lousy cops!"

He'd been on a crime spree for the last few months, 
knocking over banks, gas stations, bars, convenience 
store, and just generally anything that caught his fancy.  
When the body count got into double digits, a task force 
was put together to stop him.  They'd already been nearby, 
ready to swoop in as soon as he was spotted in the bank.

Felix feared nothing.  He grabbed the duffle bag of cash 
and headed for the back door, ready to kill anyone waiting 
for him.  This would be his last job for a while, he 
decided.  Better to let the heat die down.

He was halfway to the door when his eyes exploded.  The 
cameras recorded his screams, but his decent into Hell was 
not caught on film.  The police believed he had escaped 
once more, although he had left the money behind.

The task force folded eight months later, never finding 
any leads.  Several officers continued to search for Felix 
Crandall over the course of their careers, but of course, 
no one was successful.  Along with others like D. B. 
Cooper, Felix was remembered as one of the greatest 
criminals never brought to justice.

If only they knew.

*

"Honey, we need to talk."

Coral Parthenia sat down next to her husband on the couch.  
Orville looked surprised at her serious nature; her usual 
demeanor was very easy going.  "Of course.  What's on your 
mind?" he asked, folding his newspaper and placing in 
neatly on the end table. 

"There are some things I'd like to tell you about my past.  
It's very important.  I told you I grew up in England, but 
I didn't tell you when.  I was born in 1821."

Orville smiled.  "You're saying you're 179 years old?"  He 
was an accountant, and quick with numbers.  "You don't 
look a day over 145."

"Thanks, but I'd better look 36.  That's how old I was 
when I died."  For once, he didn't make a joke, only 
waited.  "When I was a girl, I liked to set fires.  The 
flames awed me; I loved to feed them and watch them grow.  
There was a bully who always picked on me, Heath Sanborne.  
One Sunday, just before church, he pushed me into a mud 
puddle.  I had to sit through the service, my best dress 
covered in mud."

"I'm sorry, dear."

She continued, "That night I burned his house down.  He 
got out, but his baby brother didn't.  I'd killed him.  
And when I died, I was damned for that sin.  I spent 141 
years in Hell, before I escaped with some others, and came 
back to earth.  These have been the happiest years of my 
life, Orville, I'm so happy I met you.  But I couldn't 
stand to keep it a secret anymore."

"So, you're a ghost?

"Something like that, but I have powers."  She pointed to 
a candle on the table.  "Watch."

At that moment, her eyes exploded.  Her husband watched 
dutiful as she screamed and descended through their couch.  
He waited, but she never came back.  He filed a missing 
persons report, and eventually remarried.

Orville threw away the couch.  No matter how much he 
cleaned it, there was always the smell of brimstone. 

*

Fathers Mitzer and Pirastis entered the warehouse.  "What 
is it?" Mitzer demanded.  "What's going on?"

"I just want you all where I can see you," Jessica told 
them, high above on the empty shelves.  "I don't trust 
you."

"Where is Alex?" Father Mitzer asked. 

"She's safe," Jessica told him.  "I haven't hurt her.  
Yet."

"Release her," Father Mitzer demanded.  

"I don't think so," she replied.  

"Father, I wouldn't antagonize her," Sophia said.

"She would be wise not to antagonize the servants of the 
Lord," he thundered.

Jessica laughed down at them.  "The Lord isn't who you 
think, anymore.  Any moment now, Ash will be back to get 
me.  And I don't want any trouble until then."

"This is your final warning," he said.

"What are you doing?" Kane asked.

Ignoring them all, Father Mitzer strode forward.  He had 
brought the girl to this place, and her death could not be 
on his hands.  He was confident that God would not allow 
such an injustice.  Only a miracle could save her, and he 
felt sure God would not disappoint him.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost," 
he bellowed, "I cast you out!  Demon, be gone!"

At that moment, Jessica's eyes exploded.  She screamed, 
releasing her grip on Alex, who fell towards the ground.  
The blue flares allowed them all to see for a moment, and 
Sophia raced to catch Alex.  She intercepted her, and they 
tumbled to the ground together.  

"Are you okay?" Kane asked, racing over.

Alex nodded in the fading light.  "I think so.  What 
happened?"

Somehow, Sophia knew.  "It's finally over," she said.  "It 
is finished."  She glanced at her watch.  The face had 
been smashed in the fall, and the hands were frozen in 
time.  

It was 8:24pm, Wednesday, August 30th, 2000, and Ezekiel 
Stone's mission was complete.


Chapter Thirteen: The Final Chapter

The pain never came.  Instead, Ezekiel Stone felt the soft 
touch like he had when Lizzy Darke's tattoo vanished.  A 
dozen pairs of hands gently wiped away the marks on his 
soul.  He pushed back his sleeve to watch as they faded.  
In moments, his skin was unmarred.

Stone went back to the Throne, to find the Devil and 
settle their deal.  The angels still in the streets left 
him alone, but watched him suspiciously.  Lukas was 
grinning broadly when he approached The Throne, an 
expression neatly mirroring the Devil's scowl.  

Seated on the Throne of God was Father Cletus Horn.  His 
clothes had changed to white robes, and he smiled warmly 
the sight of Ezekiel approaching, still carrying the sword 
he had used to defeat Ashur Badaktu.

Stone tossed the weapon at the Devil's feet.  "It's done," 
he said.  "I've returned all your damned souls, just like 
you wanted."

The Devil clapped slowly.  "It's about time, Mr. Stone.  
However, you broke the terms of our agreement."

"What are you talking about?" Stone demanded.

The Devil snapped his fingers, and a contract, several 
hundreds pages thick, appeared in his outstretched hand.  
"I refer you to Page 97, Paragraph 3.  'If at any time the 
undersigned should be sent to the judging area, his or her 
eyes having been destroyed, a plea of 'Guilty' shall be 
entered, the corresponding sentence to be served in Hell, 
for a term not less than all eternity.'  You had no right 
to come here, Ezekiel.  Your soul was mine the moment your 
eyes were destroyed."

"Then what am I doing here?" Stone challenged.

"Why, you distracted me," the Devil said.  "Sent me off to 
this place, knowing I would be unable to get to the 
judging area in time to present the evidence."  He 
appealed to Father Horn.  "I must ask that Ezekiel Stone's 
judgment of 'Redeemed' be set aside, and he be sent below, 
immediately."

"Wait a minute," Stone protested.  "I don't remember 
signing that.  The deal was 113 souls, and I accomplished 
that.  I want my second chance."

A gust of wind blew through the pages of the contract, 
stopping at the final page.  "Is this your signature?" the 
Devil demanded.  

Stone looked carefully.  "It looks like it," he admitted.  

"Do you really think I would let you go free without 
setting out specific terms?"  To Father Horn, he said, 
"Your predecessor was also signatory to this document.  I 
insist it be upheld, or discarded entirely, including the 
section regarding his second chance."

"I am not bound by anything that has been done before!" 
Father Horn boomed.

"We had a deal!" the Devil complained.

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME!" God thundered.  The Devil meekly 
shut his mouth.  "It seems to me that today's events were 
started thousands of years ago, because of an overly 
strict interpretation of the rules.  If Ashur Badaktu had 
not been damned, none of us would be here now.

"I never aspired to be here," Father Horn continued.  "But 
I have been given the responsibility, and I will not shirk 
from it.  It seems to me that one thing I bring to this 
office is my life experience.  And life is not always 
fair.  Being robbed of my sight eight years ago was not an 
easy thing, but I learned from it.  I learned to forsake 
vengeance, to believe that most people were good, and to 
rejoice in my friends.  Most importantly, I trusted in the 
Lord.

"And I believe Ezekiel Stone has learned these same 
lessons."  He glared at the Devil.  "He has accomplished a 
Herculean task to clean up your mess.  You should be 
grateful, not here quibbling over minor technicalities." 

"Therefore, it is my judgment that Ezekiel Stone be given 
a choice in the matters before us.  Ezekiel, what are your 
wishes?"

"The same thing I've always wanted," Stone answered 
promptly.  "Rosalyn.  I want us to be together again."

Father Horn smiled deeply.  "That," He said, "I can do.  
You will be returned to the place of your departure, and 
allowed to live out the rest of your life as you wish."

"I object," the Devil said.

"And you," Father Horn said, turning to the Devil.  "Go to 
Hell!"  The ground beneath the Devil disappeared, and he 
dropped like a rock, a thin protest trailing behind him.  
Stone grinned.

Father Horn continued, "I caution you, though, your 
eventual destination is entirely up to you.  A second 
chance is very rarely earned.  Make the most of it, 
Ezekiel."

"I will," he promised.  "Thank you.  May I ask a 
question?"

"Of course."

"What happened to your predecessors?  Where did they go?  
Is there a higher plane than this one?"

Father Horn chuckled.  "It's a question I'm sure I will 
ponder for years to come.  With free will comes 
responsibility, and eventually, everyone will be judged 
for how they have lived their life.  Only those who do not 
exercise free will are immune, and you and I do not fall 
into that category."

Stone nodded, not fully understanding, but accepting that 
it was not always in God's nature to specific.  He 
continued, "Like any mortal being, I must accept that 
someday I will pass on.  I have nothing to guide me on 
what lies ahead but my faith, Ezekiel, and I feel that 
will be enough."

"Excuse me?" A man and woman stood off to one side, trying 
to catch Stone's eye.  "Mr. Stone?"

Father Horn excused him.  "You may have a few minutes, but 
you must return soon."

Stone recognized the man.  It was Dan Copper, Rosalyn's 
late husband and Danielle's father.  "Yes?"

"I wanted to thank you," Dan said.  "For saving Rosalyn, 
for stopping me.  I don't know how I could have lived with 
myself, if I'd killed her."

"I'm sorry it turned out the way it did," Stone said.

"This is my wife, Alexis," Dan said, introducing the woman 
next to him.  "I loved Rosalyn, believe me, but to be 
reunited with Alexis, well," he smiled lovingly at his 
wife, "it's Heaven.  Could I ask, though, what Rosalyn 
named our daughter?"

"Danielle," Stone answered.  "So she will always remember 
her father.  I'll take good care of them both.  I 
promise." 

"Thank you."  The men shook hands firmly.  

Lukas came up to him.  "Want some company on your way 
back?"

"What's that?"

"I'm going back to Earth, to continue my mission.  I 
haven't earned my redemption yet."

"Best of luck to you," Stone said.  "Look me up if you 
need a hand."

"I just might do that," Lukas replied.  "Shall we?"  He 
motioned to the swirling white portal at the base of the 
steps.  

Stone took one last look around.  There were no guarantees 
he would ever return to this place, and this was a memory 
he wanted to keep.  His heart filled with God's love, he 
stepped into the vortex.

*

"Did you hear something?" Kane asked.  "It sounded like it 
came from the office."

They had turned on the lights in the warehouse again, and 
the five sat there waiting.  No one could say exactly what 
it was that they were waiting for, but they felt there 
would be a sign of some sort, some message on how things 
had turned out.  An event of this importance simply 
couldn't be left unresolved.

"Someone's in there," Alex said.  "I can feel them.  They 
just appeared."  

"Stone?" Sophia called.  

A figure stepped out of the office, into the light.  It 
was Lukas.  Alex frowned, disappointed.

"You're back!" Sophia said.  "But, what about Stone?  Did 
he succeed?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Lukas suggested.  He 
stepped aside, and Ezekiel Stone walked forward.

Alexandra leaped to her feet.  "Zeke!  You're not...  I 
mean, you're human!"

"Yeah," he confirmed.  "I'm back."

She ran to him and threw her arms around him.  "When 
Sophia told us what happened, we were so worried.  I was 
afraid you were gone forever."

"Hey," he comforted her.  "It's okay."

Kane was there to shake his hand, albeit left-handed.  
"Congratulations, man," he said.  "I knew you'd get it 
done."

Sophia hugged him once Alexandra turned him loose.  "Thank 
you," she said simply. 

Stone found Father Mitzer.  "I'm sorry I doubted you," he 
said.  "Ash was tapping my phone, I don't know if Sophia 
told you."

"I understand," the priest replied.  "It's easy to doubt.  
I've doubted many things over the years.  But you've 
helped me to believe in miracles again, and for that, I 
thank you.  However, I must tell you I didn't appreciate 
your choice of companions on the ride from the church."

Stone chuckled and offered his hand.  "Sorry about that."  

Father Pirastis approached him.  "I must say, I feel I 
didn't contribute very much to your endeavor."

"Sure you did," Stone reassured him.  "Without your 
information, we would have been much to late to do 
anything.  And if you still want to help, I've got a favor 
to ask of you in a little while."

Stone turned back to address Kane and D'Amato.  "I 
couldn't have done it without you guys," Stone told them.  
"Will and Sophia, it's been a rough year.  I don't know 
how I would have survived with out you two.  If there is 
anything I can ever do, let me know."

He turned to the desk clerk.  "Alex, I'll never understand 
this ability you have, but I'm glad it worked for us 
today.  You made a tremendous difference."

"Thanks," she replied.  "I'd sure like to know where it 
came from, too.  But never look a gift horse in the mouth, 
my father always said."

"I can answer that, if you like," Lukas said.  "What do 
you know about your family tree?"

"Not much," she said.  "My father was adopted, and I don't 
know anyone on my mother's side.  Why?"

"If you go back far enough," Lukas said, "You'll find a 
very special ancestor.  Alexandra, your umpteenth great 
grandmother was the Virgin Mary."  There was a shocked 
silence for a moment.  

"That's impossible," Father Mitzer said instinctively.  
Then remembering all he had witnessed, he allowed, 
"Continue."

"Mary and Joseph had other children after Jesus," Lukas 
told her.  "You are descended from one of them.  The Holy 
Father still has his hand on your heart.  It was He who 
gave you your ability."

"Grand-uncle Jesus," Alex said wonderingly.  "I guess I'd 
better start attending church again."

"Let's all get going," Stone said.  "We've got a long 
drive ahead of us."

*

Lukas elected to walk, leaving six of them to cram into 
Father Mitzer's car.  On the ride back to Father Pirastis' 
church, Stone borrowed Sophia's cell phone to make an 
important call.

"It's over," he said when Rosalyn answered the phone.

"Come home," she replied.  "Come back to me."

"I will," he answered.  "Rosalyn, my love..."

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"

"Zeke!  I can't believe you'd ask me that over the phone."

"Sorry.  But I've been waiting so long to ask you again."

"Of course I will, silly.  But you'd better ask me the 
right way when you get here.  Otherwise, I might change my 
mind."

"Anything you want," he told her. 

"Zeke..." she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Is it true?  Are you really coming back to me, forever?"

"Till death do us part," he said solemnly.

"I love you."

"I love you, too.  I'll see you soon."

He handed the phone back to Sophia, grinning wolfishly.  
Everyone else in the car pretended they hadn't heard 
anything, and they continued in silence.

*

At Father Pirastis' church, everyone climbed out.  Stone 
limped toward the entrance, favoring his right leg.  The 
left had fallen asleep.  There were so many things he was 
going to have to get used to again.  

Sophia quickly noticed.  "Hey," she asked, "This means you 
can feel pain again?"

"Yeah," he agreed.

Wham!  She punched him in the arm.  "I can't believe you 
got my car blown up!  I have one payment left!"

"Ow!" he cried.  "That hurt!"

"Good."  She smiled sweetly at him.  "See you inside."

"I'll be in in a minute," Stone said, "I'm just going to 
walk this off."  The rest of the group entered the church. 

Stone took a deep breath of the night air.  Maybe it was 
his imagination, but everything smelled better now that he 
was alive.  And it was a little warm out here.  It might 
be time to find a lighter jacket.  He limped down to the 
corner of the building.

"You think you're so smart," growled a familiar voice.  
The Devil stepped in his path.  "You got your wife back, 
you sent back all the fugitives, and you got your second 
chance."

"Yeah," Stone agreed.  "I guess this is it for you and 
me."

"I suppose it is," the Devil agreed.  He started to turn 
away, but stopped.  After hesitating, he offered his hand 
to Ezekiel.  "Mr. Stone," he said, "Thank you."

Surprised, he shook it.  "It was the most challenging 
thing I've ever done," he said.  "Thank you for the 
opportunity."

"Feel free to use me as a personal reference," the Devil 
said, "I'd be happy to provide a few choice details on 
your life."

"That's okay," Stone said, turning away.  "Goodbye."

"Oh, let's say 'so long,' instead," suggested the Devil.  
"I'll be seeing you."  With that, he was gone.

*

Inside the church, Stone found Father Pirastis and asked 
him for a final favor.  The priest readily agreed.  

Ezekiel Stone sat inside the confessional, determined to 
live a better existence this time around.  Life provides 
so few second chances; to let one go by would be 
practically criminal.  

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," he said, echoing 
the same words he had spoken after awaking on a subway two 
years ago.  "It has been a long time since my last 
confession."

THE END