Destined to Fall (An Angel Falls Book 5) Read online

  “What about the fire?” Chris asks again.

  “One of the horse thieves had an accident,” I say.

  Chris turns to Nathaniel.

  “We tried everything we could to put it out,” Nathaniel says.

  Chris takes the reins from Nathaniel and walks him to the trailer door. The animal loads without hesitation. White Wolf rides up behind us. The same mare who had the problem with the trailer before, attempts to pull back and escape into the wilds of the night.

  “We do not have time for this,” Chris says.

  Abruptly, he walks over to the back of the truck and lowers the tailgate. He eases himself onto the open gate and closes his eyes. I recognize the trance state he moves into. It is the same technique his dad used to shift into the horse’s consciousness. White Wolf loads the last of the horses as Chris meditates. The problem mare is left standing alone. Fascinated, I watch as the mare suddenly settles down and calmly walks into the back of the trailer. Chris’s eyes reopen and he eases off the tailgate. He says nothing about manipulating a thousand-pound horse to abide to his will in mere minutes.

  “Holy Spicoli,” I comment.

  Chris ignores my jaw dropping moment and says, “Someone help me lift this man off the ground.”

  Nathaniel steps over and picks Arrio up off the ground by himself. “In the back?” he asks.

  Chris nods and Nathaniel lowers Arrio gently into the truck bed.

  “Fetch, get in,” White Wolf says with a nod and the dog jumps into the back with our captive.

  “He’s going to roll around back there,” I say with mild horror.

  “My dog will be fine,” Wolf says and pats Fetch’s side. “He likes the open air.”

  “Not the dog,” I say.

  “The horse thief is lucky we don’t leave him for the coyotes and the wildfire,” Chris says.

  I open the cab door and reach inside for my duffle bag and the blanket I brought along on this adventure. I hand the blanket to Nathaniel.

  “Can you make sure he doesn’t hit his head?”

  Nathaniel climbs into the back of the truck with Arrio and Fetch.

  “We’re good to go.” Chris sits behind the wheel. White Wolf takes the passenger side and I make a hasty decision to stay with Nathaniel and Fetch.

  “Get inside,” Chris says.

  “What are you doing?” Nathaniel asks at the same moment.

  “I’m riding in the back with you at least until we get to the pavement. He’s a human being,” I exclaim, annoyed at the lack of compassion from the men inside the cab.

  “Females,” Chris mutters and slams the door.

  I guzzle water from the bottle I had in my duffle and notice Arrio’s eyes on me. I kneel next to him and begin untying the gag around his mouth.

  Nathaniel stops me with a soft hand on my arm.

  “I don’t trust this man,” he says. “Please, let me do it.”

  He takes over and tells Arrio, “If you’re smart, you won’t say anything. Keep your mouth shut and we won’t leave you out here for dead.”

  His harsh tone and lack of empathy startle me into realizing my naiveté might be showing. Nathaniel props Arrio up and shoves the blanket between him and the corner of the truck bed. He pours the water into his mouth until the man shakes his head and mumbles, “Thanks.”

  We bump along the rough trail, moving barely faster than I could run alongside. Each dip and hump in the road causes a raucous symphony of clunking, creaking, and rattles from the old truck and equally antiquated stock trailer.

  I sit in the opposite corner of the bed with Fetch tucked next to me. Nathaniel holds me close and I lean into him for support on every level, mental, physical, and emotional.

  “Climb inside and get warm. You’re chilled. I can keep an eye on him,” Nathaniel whispers.

  “I’ll be fine. It’s almost over.”

  With his hands tied, Arrio can’t right himself if he were to fall over. It’s a small thing, and so far, the thief manages to stay upright where Nathaniel left him. His face is turned away, but I’m sure he’s as aware of us as we are of him.

  The eerie glow of the fire burning in the distance haunts me. I wonder if anyone has called it in to the fire department yet. Wildland fires in the Rocky Mountains have become a common and frightening reality for so many people. The awareness and caution for the destructive force makes everyone a little more vigilant about paying attention to the sky for signs of smoke. But at night, it would be less noticeable and the isolation of the fire’s location is dismal.

  “Should I go and report it?” Nathaniel asks.

  “Oh, my God, yes! Go.”

  He rises to his feet and jumps out of the truck. I glance over at our ride-along buddy. Arrio’s eyes bulge in their sockets. At least, Nathaniel had the sense to not disappear from plain sight before taking off to call for help. My boyfriend returns quickly and Arrio mutters a prayer in Spanish when Nathaniel climbs over the bumper and sits next to me.

  “Thank you. Every minute can make a difference.”

  “I should have thought of it sooner.” He clasps my cold hands in his. He raises them and kisses my dirty knuckles.

  “You need to leave again,” I say, as I stare into his worried eyes.

  “No, I don’t,” he says with conviction. “This is the only place I need to be.”

  “You do,” I say, as we tuck our joined hands between us. “Your client,” I say simply.

  “He’s on my other list.” Nathaniel’s mouth hardens and he looks away from my beseeching gaze.

  “What list?” I ask. The only list we share is the one of all things inexplicable. Steven may be difficult to explain, but he doesn’t meet the other requirements of intangible and meaningful to both of us.

  “The shithead list.”

  “I know that doesn’t really matter when a life is at stake.”

  Nathaniel rests his cheek against my hair.

  “The urge to return to him right now is strong, but I can’t leave you until I know you’re safe.”

  “You say that every time you have to leave me,” I say.

  “And why is that? Because you’re always putting yourself in danger,” he answers his own question, then continues, “Until I see flashing lights of the cops I called, I’ll stay right here.”

  “What if he dies before that?”

  “Then I’ll have another notch on the stick that’s used to figuratively beat me over the head with for screwing up yet again.”

  “You’re not a screw up,” I say.

  “Make sure and tell that to Marcus.”

  I tip my face to his and brush my lips against his jaw. “You’re everything that matters to me — no matter what your reputation. Find Steven,” I whisper. “You’re all he has. And emergency crews are already looking for us.”

  Flashing red and blue lights can barely be seen in the distance. Still miles away, somewhere on the pavement judging by how fast they’re moving, but they’re definitely coming this way.

  He squeezes me close before vanishing from my arms. This time, Arrio is stunned into silence and forgoes his prayer.

  Chapter Eighteen: Moving On

  Nathaniel

  Through a haze of smoke, I discover Steven lying unconscious and alone on the ground. I cradle him in my arms and feel something sticky on the back of his head. I know it’s blood without looking. It doesn’t appear to be much, but whatever he hit his head on was enough to open the skin. His heart beats inside his chest, but it’s faint.

  I move him out of the smoke as quickly as I can. His bloodstream and brain can only withstand a lack of oxygen for so long before there’s no hope of him coming back. Before I find fresh air and safety, Steven’s body decides to give up.

  “I don’t think so.” I give him a small jerk.

  Nothing changes. I speed forward and find a patch of sand and sparse grass. Placing him carefully on the ground, I begin breathing for him and attempt to restart his heart. Instead of returning to li
fe, Steven leaves his body.

  I’m fully aware of his vacancy and yet I give him another breath and chest compression.

  “It’s too late,” he says.

  I keep working on resuscitation as Steven stands by me in spirit form. “No, it isn’t,” I say without looking at him.

  “I told you I mess everything up.”

  “Lie down and I’ll bring you back.” I tip his head back, pinch his nose closed, and give him another breath.

  “I don’t think it’s going to work, Nathaniel. I ruined my life and I don’t get a second chance.”

  Second chances. How did I not see it until now? I rock back onto my heels and slowly rise to my feet. My heart pounds with the idea that has suddenly struck me numb. I stare hard into the night, seeing my client, the fire, the waves of smoke billowing into the sky with new found enlightenment. “What would you have done differently?”

  “Everything.” Steven stares at his lifeless body. “Starting with my family. We should have talked to each other and actually listened.”

  “I’ve seen people spend every day together and never see each other for who they are.”

  “I don’t agree with how they treated me, but I could have responded better.”

  “I’m glad you can see a slice of the truth now,” I say.

  “Are you really here to take me to the other side?”

  “Yes.”

  “What if I want to see my father first?”

  “We can do that,” I say. “He won’t know you’re there. It can be difficult to see them this way.”

  “But you can translate for me, right? You showed yourself to me when I was still alive.”

  This is going to be tricky. Like everything about my new position, I so often think I’m making it up as I go along. “Because you were my client. I can’t talk to strangers without a reason.”

  Steven appraises me with his eyes. “But you showed yourself to the shaman and his son, and at Castle Hill Studios. I saw you,” he accuses.

  “That was different,” I defend.

  “What do you do, exactly? Why me? Why are you really here?”

  “To save your life or take you to the hereafter,” I say as the web of my existence suddenly begins to tangle itself around me. Steven saw me as an angel and as Juliana’s boyfriend. I need to clear up his confusion about who and what I am.

  “Will I be like you now? How do you walk around and show yourself? If I could do that, then I’ll go talk to my dad.” He squats down and tries to pick up a stone. His fingers pass through the solid rock.

  I ignore his question and ask, “Did you collapse from the smoke?”

  I drop my gaze to Steven’s body. Liam was clear about one thing. Whomever I trade with should be healthy. Their physical condition will become mine, even though I will look the same as I do now. We don’t have much time if we’re going to trade places. How many minutes have already passed since his heart stopped beating? A life with Juliana could be mine if Steven will agree to take my place as Angel of Death. Never again will I disappear from exhaustion, have to watch over my shoulder for Marcus, or hold back physically from her. We can grow old together instead of her aging while I remain always the same. The delicate strands of time could be mine again. I could weave a life with Juliana. It’s everything I want. Everything I long for. Could Steven give this gift to me?

  “It was a stupid accident. I was tired and thinking about how Dominic left me to die. Then I sort of did. I tripped and fell. The slope was steep and I tumbled over an edge. Forget about that.” He shifts his gaze away from his body. “Teach me how you move things. How do you show yourself?”

  “It can’t be taught unless you’re an angel.”

  “Then make me like you.”

  “There’s a lot more to it, Steven. We have an enormous amount of responsibility. I’m not here for your entertainment.”

  “I can learn. I can make things right with my family. I can find my real mom.”

  He’s anxious and the more he thinks about the change, the more excited he becomes.

  “I exist in the service of others for all of eternity. Are you willing to take that on? There are rules and regulations. You’ll always be watched by higher powers.”

  I can’t believe how eager he is to learn about what I do. My dreams are being laid before my feet, and instead of grabbing the opportunity, I’m overanalyzing every aspect of the situation. I’ve witnessed people struggle to attain lofty goals and what I learned was, the work involved is the most essential part of the reward. Have I worked hard enough to have Steven handed to me by the fates? I see eagerness and selfishness in his expression. A sugar-coated vision of an afterlife filled with endless freedoms glistens in his wide eyes.

  “Yeah, dude. How hard can it be?” he says with a grin.

  My hopes drown into the quicksand of my reality. I could struggle to the end of eternity looking for the perfect replacement. Someone with morals as high as Everest, truth and kindness equal to Saint Teresa’s. Would anyone ever measure up? Steven isn’t ideal, but he’s willing. Would I be okay with leaving him in my place?

  “Come on. Teach me how you speak without being seen? That really messed with my head. Dominic could use a good dose of freak out. He took off on my horse and didn’t come back to look for me. The punk-ass.”

  “You want to scare your friend?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Well, maybe after I go flatten all the tires on my step-monster’s truck.”

  The last sprinkle of hope glittering in the back of my imagined future dims and disappears altogether. Still unable to let it go, I say, “Steven, it can’t be like that. You will have recently departed souls to escort to the other side. One after another. It never stops and you have to be there for them.”

  Steven turns to face the city. From this distance and the haze of smoke in the air, the glow of lights in the north can’t be seen. He considers my words, but no matter what he says next, I know it won’t be enough.

  I visualize the veil between life and death. Then I reach out and open it. Like an iridescent curtain, I pull aside the barrier and expose the path to cross over. It’s distant at first, as if miles away, then slowly the other side of forever is opens to us. There’s a break in the luminous landscape as a shadow forms. The visitor moves closer until I can see the outline of a person.

  Steven asks, “What about free time? Surely everyone deserves a day off.”

  He turns back around and notices the opening in the veil for the first time. “What’s going on? What is this?”

  “Do you not recognize the way out of here?” I ask.

  “Huh? No. How did you do it?”

  “This is where you step across and stop worrying about the frailties of life on earth,” I say.

  How many times have I stood here holding open the doorway? How many times have I chauffeured the recently deceased to their loved ones and to a future without the constraints of time and distance?

  “But I’m not finished here,” he says and steps back.

  “Aren’t you? You wanted to end everything only hours ago. What’s different now?”

  “You. You said I could learn to do better. You said I could have another chance to make something of my life. I want to try again. I want to prove I’m not a screw up.”

  His angst is rising when it should be lowering. Once free of their body, most people feel the lightness of their spirit and the ease of existing without physical dependency.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance, Steven. I wanted to help you figure things out, but you wanted to follow your friends.” I have to hold back the shrug. He refused to listen when I tried convincing him to return to his car.

  “You have to let me be like you. I’ll go back and finish what I started. I can get my own place and finish college. I want to study pyrotechnics.”

  “Returning isn’t an option any longer. Now, you are completely free. Take a look for yourself and tell me it doesn’t feel amazing,” I say.

  He
grits his teeth and shakes his head in stubbornness. “No. I will hang out with the dead. I want to be what you are and I’m not leaving this spot until you make it happen,” he says, fists clenched at his side.

  With my own fantasies of starting over with Juliana lying shattered around my feet, my patience is flimsier than cellophane. Can I hurl him into the afterlife while cursing about the injustices of being an Angel of Death? Can I walk away and let him wander as a lost soul with no home? These thoughts cross my mind and I know I will do neither. I was chosen for this because no matter what happens, I do what’s right. I will lie down in front of destiny and let it steamroll me if that would save one single soul. Creator knew this about me when I was chosen and I have risen to meet expectations. I can only be who I am and Steven would be a poor replacement. My sense of accountability and my integrity won’t let him take my place.

  “Go on. She’s waiting to speak to you,” I say with a wave of my hand toward the visitor who has come to greet Steven from the other side.

  “You keep running your mouth about how great it is to be dead, but I’m not changing my mind. I want what you have. I need to speak to my dad. He has to know how evil his wife is.”

  “Steven, say hello to your visitor,” I say with barely controlled impatience. I suck at my job tonight, but what the hell. I may have walls built of principles and morals, but I also have a mote filled with irritating, intolerable annoyances. “Look at her for God’s sake.”

  I have a strong idea who this woman is, but I want Steven to see her for the first time without my influence.

  His eyes flicker toward the woman. She waits on the precipice between this life and the next. Her face is serene and filled with love as she stares at her son.

  Steven falls silent as he takes a closer look at the woman. Her hair is a similar color to his. Their sweep of eyebrows beneath a straight forehead and the angular curve of jawbone to a pointed chin are nearly identical to one another. With the drama and heaviness of the physical life behind him, truth and clarity come much faster on this side of life. Even in his worked-up state, the truth is obvious. His mother is here to greet him as he passes through the veil. His mother that he didn’t even know was deceased has come to be the first person to stand by his side.