Fiction

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Chapter One
“She’s so innocent. Almost, delicate.” The big, burly man with the rough black beard, ponytail and soft dark brown eyes which had speck of gold sparkling within gazed down lovingly at the latest newcomer. He was a very large “man”, at 6’ 6” and 275 lbs he was a very imposing figure. More than a few stared when he walked by. “I’m so sorry you had to come here little one. It’s a very ugly sinful place, and sometimes I start to wonder…”
“Stop it Moe! You’re startin’ to sound like one of the unprotected. You cannot give in to any kind of negativity.” The small blond was a direct opposite of the man she was scolding. With iridescent green eyes that glowed with an inner fire when her emotions ran high, she became just as imposing as her overly large counterpart. She had delicate features, with porcelain skin and a turned up nose she often almost didn’t look real. In fact, many said she looked like a real life pixie or even a cherub and they didn’t know how close to the truth they really were.
The gentle giant sighed and moved from the bed knowing the better part of valor would be to leave her alone for now. Walking backwards for a bit, he finally turned and moved into the only other room of the cabin. Sitting at the rustic table in front of the fireplace, he stared broodingly into the flames. Outside the wind howled as morning went through its daily birthing ritual in the Three Sisters Wilderness of Central Oregon. The first rays of light were just coming through the thinning curtains hanging over the tiny windows carved into the log cabin walls. The fire kept the worst of the chill from the room and the hot steaming coffee in front of him helped warm him from the inside. Being cold, just another aspect of manifesting in the “mortal” realm that he was not particularly thrilled with.
“Stop sulkin’, I didn’t mean to snap at you. You know that.” Sasha hugged Moses from behind as a way to make up. “I just get aggravated when we start to sound like most of them, that’s all. If we lose faith, than what hope is left?” The petite blonde approached with her own cup of Joe and sat across from him. “The first words she starts to understand can’t be words of discouragement, and we have no idea when she will start comprehendin’ so we must be careful, Moe.”
“I know Sasha, sometimes my mouth starts running before my brain kicks in to gear. I am just getting very tired is all. The battle is going so poorly and if we don’t get him on the right track soon…” He held up his hand at her look of disgust at the direction his words were going. “I’m sorry, I’m doing it again. Maybe, I’ve been down here too long. Man, I really am starting to act like them. If I could just go back for a while and recharge.” He shook his head in annoyance with himself and the situation.
“All you need to do is pray, you know that. Prayer will keep you connected to the Father and the false light won’t be able to sneak in to you.”
From the other room she could hear them talking, she understood what they were saying but not what they were talking about. Where was she, for that matter who was she? She couldn’t remember anything at all. She tried but couldn’t see or talk and had no idea why. She wanted to “sleep”, yes that was the word, but she wasn’t sure what it meant.
She felt so strange, so “tired”, another foreign word. It was as if her consciousness had been all jumbled up and then spun a few times. She tried hard to think, what was the last thing she remembered? She started drifting off as she thought and then suddenly “flash” she was in “The Throne Room” kneeling before the great I Am. Just as quickly she was back in the dark, in the foreign place. Since she couldn’t see anything she tried using her other senses. She heard a strange buzzing sound. It seemed to be coming from a long way off. Yes, a definite buzz, buzz, and then thud. It repeated after a short while, never getting closer but consistent nonetheless.
She could smell something burning, and hear a crackle and hiss sound in the distance. There was a fire burning somewhere, she sensed there was nothing to worry about, it was under control. She could hear the two people talking in the other room, if she concentrated she felt like she might be able to move into the room with them.
“So, how long you think she’ll be out?” Moe was flipping through some muscle building magazine. Not that ever worked out, he was just fascinated with the human being’s propensity to take everything and go too far with it as he gazed at photos of women who looked a whole lot more like him then the way God had originally fashioned them.
“You know we are all different, I really can’t say. It may take her a week to even get the hang of walkin’ or even speakin’. She has so much knowledge to organize in a so little time. And then she must learn how to use her gift or gifts here in this realm.” Sasha answered with more than just a little exasperation in her voice; she too was growing weary from the battle and their assignment’s consistent refusal to do what he had been created to do, to fulfill his destiny.
“I hear ya Sasha, no amount of warning that the Father gave us prepared us for what we came up against when we got here. I was just thinking… I really well, I thought that she would be more, well you know…” he tossed the magazine on the table before pushing the chair back and getting up.
Sasha watched as he strode to the window to watch the last of the sunrise, “You should know better than that Moe,” she admonished. “We aren’t as we appear, they get caught in that stuff,” she gestured towards the outside world with a flip of her golden blonde hair. “They judge by outward appearances, do not underestimate the vessel that the Father has chosen to send to take up this leg of the battle. There is no tellin’ the gifts He has poured into her.” She stopped talking and tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes as if listening, her head dipped forward as she said softly, “Even now she is in there wonderin’ who we are, and more importantly who she is. She does not yet remember what has happened to her and is strugglin’ to put her thoughts into order. She is listenin’ to us…intently. We must be careful what we say, so as not to plant any bad seeds.” She brought her head back up and looked at Moe and smiled.
Shaking his head he smiled back at her. “Love it when you do that, Sash.”
“It’s a gift you know, we all have them. Some more than others, I wonder what hers is?” Sasha knew Moses was aware of their gifts and how they worked, she was just pondering aloud at the moment. The “girl”, for that was the form she had arrived in, was supposed to have something special from the Father. Even she wouldn’t know what that was until she gained a sense of who and what she was. Time would tell, as always was the case in the Kingdom.
She could hear their conversation in the other room. A week to get in sync, to someone who had no concept of time this meant absolutely nothing. What was a week? Was this a good thing or bad? Why was it that this Sasha was able to know what she was thinking? What gifts was she talking about? And who was the Father? So many questions, she started drifting off as she wondered when she would start to get the answers.

Craig stood looking at the masses of people crossing the streets below his office window. He watched the lights change and the masses of humanity obediently surge ahead from which ever direction was given permission by the giant metal mistress of traffic order. With hands clasped behind his back he leaned forward until his forehead touched the window. He could now see the people on the sidewalk directly below him. So many of them, where were they all heading to? What was so important at every hour of the day that they were always just going, going, going?
He straightened up and sighed. What difference did it make, anyway? What difference did anything make these days? He had come to the realization that his days were filled with just one big useless effort of striving for emptiness after another. Life flowed like those nameless people down there. Green light go, red light stop, walk some down the line get to the next intersection in your life green light go, red light stop, do it all again until you die.
To most outsiders Craig had nothing to complain about, in the “grand scheme” of things. He had what most would call a cushy life. He was a very, very successful corporate attorney. At 48, he was majority owner of one of the most prestigious firms in The District. What was once Los Angeles and Las Vegas was now one mega-city. When the Interstate Metrorail, put in by the Light & Life Corporation in 2010, came to be a major transportation route between the two states and citizens were commuting regularly the governments found it to be advantageous to merge the two states and subsequently the two cities. Since no one could come to a consensus about which name to use and no combination of Los Angeles and Las Vegas really worked a contest was held to come up with a new name for the major metropolis. A 12 year old out of Culver City, CA, another city that was absorb in the expansion, came up with the name “The District” and it was an instant hit with all the authorities. Her parents were quite pleased as the reward for this contest was a home for life in The District, no rent or mortgage ever all bought and paid for by The Light & Life Corporation.
The Light & Life Corporation was becoming larger every year. It had started as a charitable organization in 1999, by one Joseph Guden. He had emerged from somewhere in Eastern Europe; no one was sure exactly where, some village in the Carpathian Mountains was the only concrete info out there. He had emerged through the UN, as an aide to the undersecretary for the Ukraine. He had resigned his position and forged the Light & Life Corporation in America whose mission was to bring “Light into every life. Feeding their physical, emotional, and spiritual needs by helping them to remember their past lives, which had been blocked out by the “extra-terrestrials” for population control when we had been put into these “bodies”, and even communicating with them, but only the Light and Life
Corporation had the magic phone number to reach them. Now 10 years later the Corporation had its finger in every commercial pie in the good ole US of A. Controlling most of the television stations, it had slowly been taking over the FCC for the last 5 years. Many spoke of conspiracy, but Craig didn’t believe that nonsense. They practiced capitalism and did it very well, is all he chalked it up to. He also didn’t believe in the doomsayers speaking to “biblical prophecy” and the book of Revelation when it came to Guden, being the “Anti-Christ”. That was too comical to even be considered. He wasn’t sure what he believed in other than what he had attained over the years. By the time he was 30 he was a junior partner of the firm he had worked for, and now he owned 54% of the stock of Cousins & Martin. Anyone looking from the outside in would say that Mr. Craig Cousins had all that any man could ask for. But looks can be deceiving they say, and in his case this was very true.
For all that Craig had accomplished, he had no sense of fulfillment. He tried to explain this to his very high priced therapist on a number of occasions, but she never understood. She said that it was because he had an “A” type personality. He knew better, he could not shake the sense that he had somehow missed the mark in his true destiny. He had never married. In his younger years he had been too busy climbing the corporate ladder to spend the time necessary to get to know a woman well enough to have a real relationship with her. Beyond the physical satisfaction they would get from one another, he had nothing else. He had a few, “friends with benefits” as it was called, but that was not enough for him this days. However, he was afraid now to get close to a woman because he couldn’t trust if they wanted him for him or what he could do for them. There were so many gold diggers out there these days.
At 6’3”, Craig was an impressive looking man who had never looked his age, even with grey at the temples of his coffee brown hair. Dark brown piercing eyes had won him more than one case in court by breaking down a witness when he worked for the District Attorney’s office. Too many hours there, too many trials, too many lies and twisted stories to win cases and this was on the side of “good.” Working in the law had definitely jaded Craig, and this is why he had turned to corporate law instead, he wanted out of the daily court room drama.
He turned back into the room and looked around his office. It was his second home really. He spent more time here then at home during the week. It was a very spacious, beautiful office, it should be for what he had spent to have it designed and decorated. It had vaulted ceilings and was painted light ochre with burnt umber trim; at least those were the colors his interior designer had assured him they were called. He shrugged, still looked like shades of beige and brown to him, but what did he know about interior design? The furnishings were old English in style. His desk and credenza were of a distressed cherry finish. He wasn’t sure what that meant either, but it was supposed to be really great.
The coffee, end, and conference tables also were of the same wood. There were 3 microfiber couches centered around the coffee tables in burnt umber. Most “executives” went for leather, but he liked the hominess of microfiber. He had argued with the interior designer for days about this one, but his money had finally won out. On the left wall was a 50” Plasma T.V. that came out of one of the distressed cherry paneled walls at the push of a button.
The conference table was surrounded by chairs that were a combination of the wood and padded with the microfiber material. In the center of the table was a foxtail & faux wildflower display in a Waterford vase. On the back wall, behind the serving counter/bar, was a drop down screen for presentations, something no self-respecting executive would be caught dead without these days.
Craig walked over to his desk and dropped back into his matching, of course, executive chair and picked up the remote. Pushing the aforementioned button, he watched the T.V. slide from the hidden panel into view. He pushed another button and the set came to life auto-tuned to the WNN, the World-News-Network. The Light & Life Corporation owned this station and many others; they also dictated that every set must automatically be set to this channel when it first came on. More stuff for the conspiracy theorists to go on about, but Craig thought it was a bunch of hooey. If you didn’t want to watch you push a button and change the channel right, so what was the big deal? He didn’t watch much television anyway; most of it just rotted your brain.
He looked at the clock on his desk, seeing it was 3:25 he knew he had 5 minutes before the next commute report came on. He muted the sound and picked up the file in front of him on the desk. He opened the cover and then immediately tossed it back down before sitting back and closing his eyes. God, why couldn’t he find any peace? Just a little peace of mind, was that asking too much? There was something he wanted, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Something he knew he should be doing, but what could it be? He was an extremely successful businessman, one of the most sought after in The District, what else could there be?
“Geez, God!” he ran his hand over his eyes and through his hair and stood up so abruptly that he almost knocked his chair over. What was wrong with him? This sense of unrest, days like this he felt like he was going to crawl right out of his skin. And for what? He walked away from his desk again and back towards the window. There they were down there, still going at it. Green light go, red light stop.
“There has to be more to life than this! Otherwise, what’s the point of going on?” He balled his fist and shoved it towards the ceiling and looked up. “God, do you hear me? There has got to be more than this!”
“There is.”
Craig spun and saw a woman standing by the conference table. She was wearing a light beige blouse, brown leather pants, and boots. In fact, she almost seemed to be blending in with the room. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and brown eyes with golden flecks that swirled and spiraled within the irises. She was of an indeterminate age and race. He knew he had never seen her before.
“How did you get in here? Who are you?” he asked her inching towards the desk and the phone.
“You must remember there is” was all she said again. Never once blinking or looking away from him.
He reached for the phone, lifting the receiver he looked down to dial; when he looked up she was gone. He stood for a moment open-mouthed and eyed staring at the spot where she had been. He blinked several times and refocused. No, there was definitely no one there now. He put the receiver back in the cradle with shaking hands as it dawned on him that no one could have entered the office without having first passed Lucy his administrative assistant. She would have had to have buzzed them into his office because the door had an auto-lock on it. The buzz was very distinct and loud enough for him to hear even in his private bathroom in the corner past the conference table making sure he was aware someone was entering the office.
Hitting the intercom he buzzed his admin, “Lucy, did you just let someone in here?” maybe the buzzer had malfunctioned he was telling himself.
“No, Mr. Curtis. You said you weren’t to be disturbed, remember?”
“And you’ve been at your desk this entire time? No one has come past you? No one has come in or out of my office?” he was having a hard time breathing and could hear the panic rising in his voice.
“No sir, no one has come in or out of your office since you went in and I have been here the entire time. Why, is something wrong Mr. Curtis? You sound a little strange? Should I call security?” Lucy was nothing if not efficient and very protective of him. She had been his administrative assistant for the last 10 years and was more like a mom at times than an employee.
“No, no that won’t be necessary. I’m fine Lucy thanks; I think I’ve just been working too hard. Ah, thanks.” He said again.
“Ok, if you’re sure, because it’s no problem. Will there be anything else?” He could hear the disbelief of his assurances in her voice.
“No, thank you again Lucy. Don’t worry, really. I’m fine.” He released the button and tried to take deep breaths. He wasn’t hallucinating, was he? That woman had been standing right there talking to him in answer to his questions to God. He stopped himself short at that and shook his head. “Wow, I really am working too hard.” He said aloud to no one in particular.
He sat back down and picked up the remote again, refusing to think about it anymore. Taking off the mute on the television he was just in time to catch the commute report for the evening ride home.

“There is.”
“What did she just say?” Moe almost knocked his coffee over as he looked toward the room and then back at Sasha. She shushed him, “I think she’s communicating’ with our assignment.”
“You must remember there is.”
Constance could see the man; he was standing in front her raging at the Father. He didn’t think there was a point to his life anymore. She thought it was awful, she felt his despair and distress. She watched him look around the room with a futility that saddened her. He had so much to give, the great I Am had gifted him with so much, but he was only using a fraction of it. He felt it too, it was what was making him so unhappy and making him feel so empty. He knew he was to do more, but he didn’t know how.
She had to tell him to hold on, and the more she had wanted to the more she started to feel something strange happening to her until she started to materialize in the room physically, or at least enough for him to see her there. She knew she had to answer him as she was watching, and she had. The Father had told her what to say, and she had relayed the Father’s message to him. It had been plain and simple as His messages always were.
Then flash, as suddenly as she was there she was in The Throne Room again. The colors swirled and dipped around her. She was a part of it as much as she wasn’t. She no longer had a “physical” body. She was as she had always been. There were greens, purples, pinks, browns, whites, reds, blues, yellows all inter-weaving and releasing around and through her. Music as choruses were sung over and over in worship of the great I Am. She could hear the sound of wings beating the air as the Seraphim and Cherubim floated through the air protecting the throne room. The thrones were before her as she genuflected, the great I Am began speaking to her, through her, around her. The sound of His voice when He spoke was more than just words being uttered from one being to another, it was a physical transference of energy. He was inside, beside, behind and in front of you all at once. She felt instead of heard His words, there was no misunderstanding because the words were formed inside of her at the exact moment they were formed inside of Him. “The battle does not go well. My son still refuses to fight. He has forgotten how. You must go and lead him to his destiny. He knows that he is called and the unfulfilled call is driving him insane. He is restless and desires peace, but I will not give it to him as long as he rebels against me. His sin is great in that he chooses to not do as I have directed him. He must be reconciled to Us and the Kingdom. Are you willing to go and give him aid? We will not force you? You have free choice as do all my creations, the gifts you have been given are what he needs to embrace his destiny.”
“I will my Lord. I was created by and for You alone. There is nothing I will not do to serve. Obedience is my life, oh Lord.” Her essence lay face down before them, daring not look up for only a select few were allowed to look upon the face of God himself. It was enough to be able to lie here and bask in the beauty of their presence.
“I will tell you little one, this will be like nothing you have ever experienced before. You will take on a physical form, when you arrive you will be very disoriented for a period. I have bestowed upon you many gifts, but I want you to go and teach My son to pray again, this will be the opening of the door to the manifestation of his other gifts. One of his duties is as prayer warrior, his words are powerful with the ability to tear down strongholds, but he is complacent under the power of the enemy’s lies. Your mission is to go into the enemy’s camp and release him. Lead him to a place of believing in My power working in him and through him again. Remind him that there is no power higher than Mine, and that there is more to his life on earth than what he sees, and what he has attained. Remind him that what he has and where he has arrived at has been because of My favor in his life. Return him to the path he was once on and knew so well. This is your assignment. Go and set him back on course.”
A bright light and she was back, lying in the room. She could see now, her eyes had opened. She could turn her head. Head! She looked down and saw that she had been transformed into… a human being. So this was the form that God had given her to come and help her assignment in. She looked around the room, as her eyes arrived at the doorway she saw the forms of the two which the voices she had been listening to must belong to leaning against the frame smiling at her.
She raised her hands and held them in front of her face. It was strange, being trapped inside this shell. She twisted one then the other back and forth and looked at the skin stretched across the muscle, bones, and sinew. Her skin was a very light creamy brown; she had utilitarian length nails and average palms. She shrugged her shoulders up and down getting used to the feel of moving them. Putting her arms down by her side she tried to lift up, but didn’t have enough strength. She felt a hand on her shoulder pushing her back down.
“Don’t try to do too much too fast honey.” The soft southern drawl of the woman helped her to relax back down onto the mattress. She looked into her green eyes and was immediately drawn into them. She felt so much peace while looking at them. It was like being in The Throne Room by proxy. The green swirled and mixed with browns and yellows. She felt herself drawn in getting sleepy; her newly formed eyelids would not stay open as she watched transfixed. She could not look away, try as she might. Soon she was falling, falling into the abyss of sleep.
Sasha blinked as she brought her head back up and returned her pupils to normal. Throwing her head back her blonde hair caught the sunlight and for just an instant it turned to flames. Taking a deep breath she brought herself back to full human form. Turning she smiled sheepishly at Moe as she brushed past him back into the main room of the cabin.
Moe leaned his great shoulder against the doorframe and watched as his partner knelt before the small alter erected in the corner. He too went down on his knees and closed his eyes as she began to pray, her southern drawl completely disappearing as she began to speak to Heaven itself. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for sending us here on this most precious of missions. We thank You that You have selected us and found us worthy of this task. Give us the wisdom and direction to correctly take the next steps in Your great plan. We cannot do this without You. We worship You and praise You. Jesus, we joyfully set the stage for Your reappearance knowing that soon and very soon You will return to claim those that belong to You. Help us to enlarge that number. Allow Constance to solidify her physical form quickly that she may take her place in battle as You have directed her. We ask this in Jesus name, Amen.”
“Amen” Moe echoed. Standing he walked to the small refrigerator in the other corner the north side of the great room was the kitchen and opened the door. Pulling out some eggs and bacon, he turned towards the stove before placing them on the tiny counter. “Want something to eat?”
“Maybe in a bit. I’m going to go out and look for Josh. He’s been gone for quite some time and I haven’t heard the chainsaw for a spell, have you?” she was fully back to her human persona drawl and all, although there was a glow that surround her like an aura if you looked closely enough.
Moe looked up from placing the bacon in the frying pan and frowned. “No” he shook his head and his long dark pony tail swung back and forth, “Now that you mention it, I haven’t. Where do you think that kid could have gotten off to this time?” He looked over his shoulder at Sasha as she was putting on her outer clothes wrapping a long scarf around her mouth and nose to ward off the freezing cold of the great northwestern winter outside.
She shrugged her shoulders, which was barely perceptible under her huge down parka. “You know him, he can’t ever just do his chores and come straight back. Ever since he’s been here he gets distracted by everythen’. It’s part of his gift, I guess. He sees things and then has to go check it out. I’m sure he’s okay. I think I would sense if he wasn’t.”
Moe turned back towards his cooking, “True enough. I’ll make enough for all of us. How ‘bout some biscuits? I kinda feel like baking something up.” He reached up on the shelf that held the glass canisters and pulled down the flour.
“You’re startin’ to make me really hungry!” Sasha laughed. “I’ll be back in a jiff, Hun. She stepped out into the crisp day and closed the door.
Moe measured flour into the bowl and started digging for the rest of the ingredients for the biscuits. He felt good, really good. Prayer always made him feel that way, and hungry. He was always ravenously hungry after a really good talk with the Father.

Craig sat in his BMW waiting for his turn to get on the freeway. It was funny to him how they always called this an “expressway” but it seemed to take forever to get on. Nothing express in that. He tapped a button on his steering wheel which controlled his MP3 player/CD/Stereo system. With all the music he had he could never make up his mind what he wanted to listen to. Like everything else in his life, it often seemed like he had too much, but not enough for a sense of satisfaction.
He wasn’t a greedy man, it wasn’t he wanted more. It was just that what he had didn’t make him happy. He wanted something else, but what? His mind went back of its own volition to the woman who had appeared in his office. Had that really happened?
He wondered if he should make an extra appointment with his psychiatrist and talk to her about it. Perhaps she could give him something for it. What was that thing in Alice in Wonderland, the red pill made you big and the blue pill made you small? Was there a pill to make you quit hallucinating, if you were? He was sure there was, there was a pill for everything these days.
He moved a little closer to his turn to challenge the red and green light at the expressway entrance. “One car per green” the sign said next to and above the poles of each lane. He looked out his window at the graffiti filled wall. Some of this was pretty good artwork. One looked like a small “Mona Lisa” except she was obviously Hispanic and was throwing a gang symbol. The “’Lisa’s” smile was widened and white teeth were exposed to show a “grill” that said “Golden”. Craig wondered how much time had been spent on this little piece of art. Whoever had done it was very talented and was wasting his God-given gift on inner-city walls, he thought as he started to pull forward again.
“He is not the only one wasting his gift. You too have been given much, but are using so little.” Craig slammed on the brake and almost caused the car behind him to hit him. He swung his head to the right so fast he was sure he had twisted a muscle. There she was again, only this time she was not “solid” she shimmered with the light and he could see the passenger door on the other side through her. She looked steadily ahead, but her eyes were closed; her hair looked as if she were lying down. It was not falling from her scalp, but seemed like it was pressed down in the back. He reached his hand out to touch her and then pulled it back running his hand over his face before cupping his mouth to keep himself from screaming. Once again she was gone.
Craig turned back towards the front of the car, and sound returned to him. He realized the car cabin had been completely quiet the entire time. How long had it been? He looked at the clock on the dash, a few seconds no more. The car behind honked, it was his turn. He pulled onto the expressway, tapping a button on his steering wheel as he did. He heard the sound of the phone ringing as he tried to get control of his breathing, and then a “normal” disembodied voice in the car spoke to him, “Dr. Samantha Adam’s Office. Jennifer speaking, how may I help you?”
“Craig Curtis here Jen, can you squeeze me in sometime soon? I really need to talk to the doc.” Craig maneuvered his car into traffic and headed towards home. He felt like he was losing his mind, and then realized that maybe he was, how many people had their shrink on speed dial?

Sasha tromped through the snow, looking for Josh. She watched for his prints in the snow, unfortunately they could be anything. Josh was young, and he like to shape-shift even though it was extremely uncomfortable to do so. He didn’t seem to mind, he would hear something go find it or see it and then change in to it because he wanted to know what it was like to be it. She was never quite sure why the Father had saddled her with him, but he was her charge and as one of the eldest of the Helekei it was her duty to take care of the new arrivals until they fully matured in their new shells. They never aged physically, but they had to go through a developmental stage mentally because something about the transference caused them to be almost infantile at first. Most progressed through it rather quickly, since none of them was less than a few thousand years old in “earth” years. In Heaven there was no tracking of time, so none of them was really sure how old they were, it was really irrelevant. But, humans were so hung up with how old one was. It was really very sad, there were so many other things that were so much more important than how you looked, which seemed to be why they cared so much about age. If she could save a soul for every time she had heard someone say, “Don’t they look good for their age? Or, they aren’t aging well are they?”
They all had the ability to shape-shift into animals, but most it was usually only one other, two tops. Josh had the rare gift of whatever living breathing object he saw he could become. Some even had the ability to actually become weather conditions, not cause them but be the phenomenon themselves, thereby controlling exactly where and when it hit.
She stopped and watched her breath puff out on the cold morning air and thought about her partner making breakfast back at the cabin. Moses was a good “man” he had matured very quickly; plus he loved to cook and was good at keeping things clean. They were able to pass themselves off as the gruff biker and his girl very easily so no one ever got too close unless asked. The few that had, one of them had simply used the Ekstasis on them, a gift that every Heleken and Sarakan had for hypnotizing when necessary.
She stopped on a small ridge and looked around at the cloudless sky, the tops of the snow covered Douglas fir and Juniper trees that congested the forest. Birds and bugs flitted in and out of the sunlight. In the distance was Husband Lake, framed by snow. It seemed apropos that they were housed in the Three Sisters Wilderness to the north near Husband Lake. This fight was about keeping a family together or breaking it apart. God wanted his children to come home and the enemy wanted to break up the family, forever. Yes, what better place geographically in America should house the travelers as they strengthened for warfare? This is also were they came to heal from the wounds, both physical and spiritual, that were inflicted in this battle.
It was a crisp day and a glorious scene. This was what King David must have had in mind when he wrote the words, “This is the day the Lord has made” in the Psalms.
Standing on the incline she pushed her hands into her jacket pockets for warmth. She scanned the area for any sign of Joshua. Down the way to the left she saw a small pile of wood stacked up and the chainsaw sitting near a stump, but he was nowhere in sight. Sighing she looked up as she heard an eagle cry out. She could see it coming towards where she was standing, at first a small speck but it was steadily growing larger as it came nearer. Soon she could see its incredible wing span and the light glistening off of its brown and red feathers. It cried out again as it went over the top of her and then circled back. Riding the air currents it swooped back and forth. It seemed to be having a wonderful time. She narrowed her eyes as she watched it bank and turn, over and over.
Pulling her hands from her pockets she cupped her mouth and yelled at the sky, “Josh, you come down here right now! That wood is not going to walk itself to the cabin!”
The bird cried out as if in response and banked again. This time it went for the pine tree that was nearest the wood pile below and lit on a lower branch. Sasha watched as snow and wind swirled in a small whirlwind around the branch as Joshua transformed back into his human persona.
Jumping down from the branch he shook himself off, feathers and snow fell to the ground. “Sorry, Sash. I saw one go by and I just couldn’t help myself. It’s incredible ya know? Soaring up there,” he used his head to gesture towards the sky as he began loading cut wood into his arms.
“I know Josh but you have to stay focused on the job at hand,” she watched the young man fill his arms, her southern drawl deepening with her aggravation. Josh was just under 6’ tall, of medium build, and he had dark brown skin with red undertones and dark brown curly hair. His eyes were golden brown which stood out in stark relief against his skin. He stood up again and trudged up the hill towards Sasha. “You have to learn to discipline yourself or you will never get out of these mountains. You have so much to do Josh, but you cannot begin until you are mentally ready and that requires keeping yourself under control.”
He smiled at her, beautiful straight white teeth shone from between full lips. “Whatever you say Captain, my Captain.” He started walking back towards the cabin.
Sasha strode to keep up with him, “This is no jokin’ matter, Josh! The longer you take, the more ground we lose in the battle with the enemy. You have to start takin’ your assignment seriously or many eternal lives will be lost.”
He stopped, spun and looked at her. His face was all seriousness now. “I know Sasha. Look, I said I was sorry. You have no idea what it is like to have this…this ability and have to keep it under wraps. I’m trying, really. It is so hard to control myself sometimes. I promise I will try harder from now on, you can count on me. In a crunch I would never ever let you down, you have to know that.”
She approached him and reached up a gloved hand and cupped his cheek. Feeling his genuine sorrow coming through the glove she was immediately sorry for being so hard on him. “Ok, I guess no harm was done, this time.” She dropped her hand and started walking again. “Come on, Moe is makin’ us breakfast and our new arrival is startin’ to come around. I don’t want to be away when she starts to try to talk, or wants answers.”
Josh nodded at her retreating form and started walking again. He meant what he had said. He was going to put every ounce of effort he had into keeping his “urges” under control. He was going to be spending a lot of knee time as well asking for additional strength to get through this. He was not going to be the cause of anyone being damned, he had heard of others who had come before him who had not only been guilty of that but had turned to the other side as well. The stories brought chills to his spine when he thought about them, he was not going to let his guard down and become one of the fallen. God had sent him here for a purpose and he was going to fulfill it. He would show all of them, he could do it, and he would to, he determined as he stomped through the snow.

“So, you comin’ out with us or not man?” M.J. was hounding Craig mercilessly. He was Craig’s best friend. They had known each other since high school. They had struggled, partied, studied, and womanized through college and law school together. They had even spent a small amount of time doing the public defender gig together, until Craig’s career drive sent him speeding up the ladder at a pace M.J. was incapable of keeping up with. M.J. was still practicing criminal law for his own two-bit firm in the lower downtown portion of The District. M.J. was also more of an ambulance chaser and would take on any case if he thought there might be a fast buck in it. Unfortunately, he often lost quite a few more than he won due to his “kill ‘em all and let the Lord sort them out” philosophy. The few scruples he had were bought and paid for, and since M.J. didn’t have much money, well ‘nuff said.
Craig looked at his friend on the videophone, sitting in his seedy office knowing that part of the reason he wanted him to go was so that he would pick up the bill for a night of righteous or unrighteous if the truth be told, partying. It was Friday night, he had nothing else to do and no clients or meetings in the morning so what the heck, right? “Where we going?” he stalled.
M.J. started laughing, his maniacal laugh; he knew he had broken Craig down. He was a short round man, who had started balding at 25. To “cut out the middle man”, as he put it he just shaved his head and looked like a well used billiard ball. Of some type of Asian descent that M.J.’s family wasn’t even sure of anymore he had slanted brown eyes, a flat nose, and very thin lips. He was definitely not an attractive guy in society’s stereotype of what was good looking, but he had a sense of humor that kept the ladies lined up at his door nightly. Ever the player, at 48 he had absolutely no intentions of settling down.
“I was thinking of starting at La Cocina del Rey for some Mexican food and monster margaritas, then heading over to Club “D” to see what kinda action was happening over there. I’ve always wanted to check that place out. So, how’s that sound?”
“Who else is going with us?” Craig was getting more interested, he was actually pretty hungry and Mexican food did sound really good. He wasn’t too sure about Club “D” though. The “D” supposedly stood for dementia; many said it stood for “damned”. Strange things were said to have happened at the club. Supposedly there was an underground chamber where satanic rituals were conducted. The news used to run stories about people going in and becoming missing person statistics. But that was before missing persons became such a common place event. Plus, it was a lot of talk, nobody knew for sure and with the strange things that were done and legal these days thanks to the Light and & Life Corporation lobbyist anything was possible.
“Some…business associates. I think you’ll like them. They are in town for a bit, and I told them I would show them around tonight so they wouldn’t be bored all weekend.” M.J. started fiddling around in a drawer at his desk as he was talking to him. Craig’s attorney sense told him that his buddy was hiding something.
“Ah, I don’t know M.J. I’m not really into talking business tonight. Going out doing nothing, letting my hair down a bit that sounded good. I think I’ll take a rain check.”
“No, no buddy.” M.J. responded a little too quickly, but again Craig thought he might just be on edge from the weird sightings he had had today. “They’ll be none of that tonight, my man. I was just saying they were associates, I do business with them is all. We aren’t going to be talking about anything “law” related at all, promise. No, no this is all about the party tonight. Good eats, good drinks, and if we have luck maybe later meet some ladies and a good,” he was gesturing quickly and talking way too fast.
“Yeah, ok. I get the picture.” Craig cut his friend off before he could get too crass. He liked M.J. but sometimes he could be so base when it came to the opposite sex and well…sex. He still had a feeling that his old friend was up to something.
M.J. started laughing again, as he reeled him in. “Meet you at the restaurant at say 8-ish?”
“Sounds good, see you then. And, M.J.?” His tone said he wasn’t joking with his friend.
“Yeah, Craig what’s up?” the little man started pulling on his tie as if he was suddenly very hot.
“This better not be a set-up.” He was only half joking.
“I said no business Craig, I meant it. Really, promise, no law talk. See you at 8.” The videophone picture that was also the television flashed and went back to the football game that was on. Looking at the clock above the mantel he saw it was 6:15. He had some time before he needed to get ready to go since the restaurant was only about 5 minutes away. Swinging his feet up on to the couch he decided to recline and catch a quick nap. It wasn’t a particularly interesting game and they would probably be out late tonight so he would need the rest. He tried not to think about his discomfort with going out with M.J. tonight. They had been friends for over 30 years and he had never done anything to hurt him, not really. So, why this uneasy feeling tonight?
He closed his eyes and crossed his arms and legs and settled back into the plush sofa. “Gonna go out, gonna have some fun, and stop worrying about nothing.” He almost had himself convinced by the time he drifted off.

M.J. immediately hit speed dial when Craig hung up. The blue anonymity screen slid up as the line was answered. “Yes,” the synthesized voice came through the speaker.
M.J. pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow and off the top of his head. “It’s done. He will meet with us tonight as you requested.”
“He is unaware of our identity?” the computerized answer came back.
“I don’t know who you are, so how would he?” M.J. snapped back in his nervousness. He didn’t like this bit of business. Whoever these people were, they were paying him a lot of money to get a meeting with Craig “off the books”. They had already given him $30,000 for considering helping them, if he had said no he still got to keep the money. That had gotten his attention and he wondered how much there was to be made for doing what amounted to nothing. They had told him there was a lot more to come if he would help them get his oldest and dearest friend to “work” for their side. Whatever that meant…
“It would behoove you not to be snide Mr. Jenkins. You are being paid a great deal of money to help us complete a very important task. Disrespect is not something we take lightly.” There was no anger or passion in the tone but the threat was no less intimidating.
“I didn’t mean any disrespect, sir. It’s just… I’m just not so sure about all this now. You won’t tell me who you are or what this is about and I don’t want to get him into any trouble is all.” M.J. was sweating bullets now and his heart was racing at a hundred miles per hour. He wasn’t nervous anymore; he was out and out scared. What had he gotten himself, and now his friend into?
“That’s fine,” the voice continued. “A car will be by your house at 7:30 to pick you up. Jones and Smith will be in the car waiting for you, please do not keep them waiting. As your appointment with Mr. Curtis is at 8 this should give you plenty of time to get to La Cocina del Rey. You will be briefed on the way to the restaurant.” The screen went black as the line was disconnected.
M.J. stared at the dark screen for a moment longer and wanted to weep for the first time in many years of his adult life. He should have known something wasn’t right to begin with. Who would give that kind of money for you to “think” about helping them? Now he was in way too deep, and he had a feeling these were very, very bad people. The fact that they wanted to go to Club “D” was even worse. He knew the rumors about the club, and although he had pooh-poohed most of them he had never gone to the club. There were hundreds of other “happening” clubs in The District to go to so it was fairly easy to stay away from the ones that had a bad rep. Club “D” had the worst of all.
He swung around in his chair and looked out the picture window into the back parking area drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair. What really bothered him most is that he hadn’t told them the details of dinner. He had made that up at the last second while talking to Craig, because he knew he wouldn’t go straight to the club. They couldn’t be tapping his line; he had a special block on his phone. All attorneys did, because of their occupation any phone line they had whether business, residential, or cellular was fitted with the confidentiality assurance block, it was required by law. So, how did they know not only where they were going for dinner but when?
Reaching into the inner pocket of his suit he pulled out a roll of antacids, his stomach was starting to feel like Mt. St. Helen’s just before an eruption. Popping two into his mouth he laid his head back and started to crunch on them. What had he gotten them into, he thought again and not for the last time that night or the weeks and months ahead.

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