The Saving Angels Series: Books 1-3 (41 page)

Mark pulled up the SUV in front of Sam's house and Shawn jumped out to get her. Sam, threw the door open before he could ring the bell in her usual exuberant way. She bounded down the walkway beside Shawn. We couldn't help but laugh as she practically bounced with excitement.
"Hey guys, what's so funny?" she asked as she slid into the third row seats with Shawn.

"Nothing," Robert always the pacifist of our group said, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"Okay," Sam said, looking at me puzzled. "Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I'm ready to save some souls," she said, moving on.

"Hell yeah I am!" Shawn said, agreeing with her sentiments.

Their excitement was contagious, and the last of my doubts were pushed aside as I relished the thought of changing someone's life forever. The whole Angel thing definitely had its perks.

Mark pulled the vehicle into the same dirt lot we had parked in the day before. I had an odd sense of déjà-vu as we all piled out of the vehicle. Sure, I had just been here the day before, but as my friends and I walked toward the entrance, I felt like we had all done
this already. I couldn’t help wondering if that was a sign that we were on the right track. Maybe this was God's way of telling us we were exactly where we were supposed to be.

My friends were excited about the same sights and smells that had enticed me the previous day. The market had lost some of its appeal for me as I searched for the unknown girl in vain. Sam and Lynn had to repeatedly tell me to slow down as I tried to hurry down each row. Finally exasperated, they told Mark to hold my hand so it would anchor me to them.

"It's fine if we don't find her here," Mark whispered in my ear, picking up on my anxiety. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's at the fairgrounds helping to set up the revival. Who knows how many people are involved in the whole thing. It could be just the handful of people we saw and the girl, for all we know. Well, that and the ringleader they mentioned, of course."

"I know," I said. "I was just really hoping to find her here this morning so we could do our thing and be
back
at your house before Haniel suspects anything," I added, acknowledging again the fact that I thought it was wrong that we were misleading Haniel. I had grown quite attached to our Archangel and I felt guilty for deceiving him.

The morning moved at a snail's pace for me as my friends "oohed" and "aahed" over each stand. I tried to keep my impatience at bay, knowing that the previous day I had been the same way. I was relieved when noon finally rolled around and we could break for lunch. Mark guided us to the same spot we had eaten at the day before, so that our large group could eat under the willow tree in peace without having to scrounge for a big enough
table
for all six of us.

"Corn dog, or do you want a burger and fries?" Mark asked me once we were settled on the soft grass under the sweeping branches.

"Burger and fries would be great."

"I want the same," Sam said, laying her packages behind her.

"Not me. I think I want one of those gyros from that stand," Lynn said, pointing to the stand across the way.

"Ohhh, I want one of those too," I said, changing my order. "But I don’t want any of the veggies."

"Of course you don't," Lynn said laughing, "That would almost be considered healthy if you got it with all the veggies."

"Exactly," I replied, smiling at her mischievously.

"Well, I still want a burger. I don't know how you guys can eat a cute wooly lamb," Sam said shuddering.

"It's not like a burger is much better," I said, teasing her.

"I know, I know, but I can't give up beef and besides, I don't know any cute cow songs like, 'Mary had a Little Lamb,'" she said, smirking at me.

"Great, now I'm going to have that lullaby stuck in my head while I'm eating," I grumbled.

"Not me," Lynn said. "I'm more worried about who's handling my food than what I'm eating."

Sam giggled at her words.

Lynn may be all Goth, but she had a serious obsessive compulsive disorder when it came to germs and food preparation. She had major issues with eating food after it sat out
too long and made waiters at restaurants bring her food as soon as it was prepared. I found the whole thing funny and teased her about it constantly.

"I would be more worried about not having a sink to wash my hands in," I said teasingly.

"Ha, never fear, I planned well for that," she said, pulling a package of antibacterial wipes out of her bag.

Sam giggled and I grinned, but we both took one willingly. The thought of all the different things I had handled that day that others had touched, made even a normal person like me blanch.

"I like these wipes better than the gel," Sam said, wiping the fronts and backs of her hands. "The gel doesn’t help get the dirt off like these do," she added, holding up her dirty wipe for us to inspect.

"Gross," I said, looking at my own grubby wipe.

"See, you guys are
loving
my OCD now aren't you," Lynn said mockingly.

"We are, we are," Sam said, dramatically throwing her arms around Lynn. "Oh, thank you for saving the day sweet child," she added, in a long drawn out country drawl.

Lynn and I burst out laughing at her antics.

"What did we miss?" Shawn asked, juggling a tray of food as he maneuvered under the branches to sit next to Sam.

"We were just appreciating how fabulously smart Lynn is," Sam said cheekily, making Lynn and me laugh again.

"What's so funny?" Mark and Robert asked in unison joining us in our sanctuary.

"Obviously an inside joke," Shawn grumbled.

His disgruntled words set us off again. Finally, after a few moments of laughter, we were able to fill in the guys between giggles. By the looks they shot us, it was obvious something had gotten lost in the retelling.

"I guess you had to be there," Sam said,
unwrapping
her burger. "Any ketchup?" she asked, removing the top of her bun.

"Pretty sure it's against the law to eat a burger, or fries for that matter without, ketchup," Mark said, pulling a handful of ketchup packets out of the pockets of his cargo shorts. He handed several to me for my fries and I smiled at him appreciatively.

"Thanks," I said, touched that he knew me so well.

Lunch was delicious, and much to Sam's dismay, both Lynn and I dug into our gyros with gusto, enjoying the tender meat and tangy white sauce that drenched the top.

The afternoon moved quicker than the morning, and before I knew it we were storing our belongings into the Navigator and heading toward the revival. Dusk was upon us when Mark pulled into the crowded parking lot that had been vacant the night before.

Mark, Sam, Shawn, and I piled out of the vehicle, leaving Lynn and Robert behind. They would wait to exit the SUV until we were inside the brightly lit tent. We had decided the night before when we made our exhaustive plans that they should skirt the property acting as lookouts. We thought it would look less suspicion if only four of us entered the tent together; after all, it was perfectly acceptable that Mark and I would drag a couple of friends along. Four extra friends, though, seemed to be pushing it.

Mark reached for my hand as we slowly strolled toward the tent with Shawn and Sam next to us. We appeared to be nonchalant, but in truth, adrenaline raced through us all. I worked to keep myself as calm as possible, trying to focus on the emotions that filled the
dirty massive canvas tent in front of me. My apprehension from the night before came crashing back again as I felt the oppressive weight of the emotions around me.

Shawn reached out and pulled the flap of the tent aside so we could step into the brightly lit area. I wrinkled my nose when the smell of moldy canvas assaulted my senses. I had gone camping once with my parents when I was growing up and had gotten ferociously sick while we were surrounded by nothing but wilderness. The smell of the tent we slept in had only compounded my nausea, and to this day the smell of canvas still made bile burn its way up my throat.

The space we stepped into was crowded, with mostly guys standing around talking. I spotted several girls as we made our way toward the back row of the rough manmade benches, but none of them were the girl from the night before.

"Do you see her?" Shawn asked, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

I shook my head "no" and continued to scan the crowd. The emotions of those in the tent swirled, around us in a sort of haze that I felt I could touch if I tried. I had been around despair and animosity before, but not all at once. I found myself working hard to keep my own emotions at bay as the other emotions in the room threatened to overwhelm me. Mark kept my hand firmly in his giving me the support I needed.

After several minutes, the lights in the tent dimmed and everyone began to take their seats. A guy around our age sat next to me, and once again I had to fight back nausea. He took grunge to a whole new level, wearing jeans that I was pretty sure could stand up on their own, a shirt that was as holey as it was dirty, scuffed up combat boots that had duct tape wrapped around the toes and long, dark, oily hair that rested against his pale sunken-in cheekbones. Once I could get past the stench that surrounded him, I focused on the emotions that he was experiencing. By his appearance and glowering expression, I had expected to feel deep animosity flowing around him, but was shocked that despair seemed to fill every available space inside him. I fought the temptation to let his emotions inside me, curious about what had made such a tough looking guy feel so lost. I felt bad that I had instantly stereotyped him.

"Don’t let him in,"
Mark sent the thought my way after pulling my conflicting thoughts from me.
"We have to get a lay of the land first before we show our cards,"
he added, dropping my hand so that he could pull me snugly into his arms, allowing me to feel his steady heartbeat against my shoulder.

"
I know. I just feel bad. I'm not sure I have ever felt so much despair from one individual."

"Don't worry were going to fix it, we just need a plan."

I nodded my head slightly, showing that I agreed with him. Taking my focus away from the
forgotten soul
next to me, I glanced around the tent trying to gage the emotions of the other occupants. My surveying was interrupted when an individual entered the tent from the narrow opening in front of us.

There was no need to stereotype the individual in front of me. I could feel the evil radiating
off  him
from where we sat. I glanced at Sam wondering if she was feeling the same thing. By the way she raised her eyebrows at
me,
I could tell we were on the same page.

Outwardly, his appearance was about as ordinary as you could get. He wore faded jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and non-descript running shoes. He topped of his wardrobe with a worn-out Yankees cap pulled snugly over his head. It was glaringly obvious that
he deliberately dressed the way he did to draw people in. He was as unthreatening as they came, especially with the genial smile that he plastered across his face. My gifts made it easy for me to see through his ploy right away and see the monster that lurked below the innocent exterior.

We watched him approach the pulpit and wave to some of the people in the audience like they were old friends.

"Good evening everyone. I'm Alan, as many of you already know," he said in a welcoming and engaging voice, judging by the rapt attention he received. His voice had the opposite effect on me, making my skin crawled just hearing it.

"I'm so glad to see so many new faces here this evening," he said, sweeping his eyes out across the makeshift room. "If you're sitting here tonight it's because you’ve decided to take control of your life," he added as everyone around us starting clapping. We joined in reluctantly after exchanging looks.

"Are you fed up with how the government handles your hard earned money?" More applause followed his words.

"Do you get sick of illegal aliens coming in and stealing your jobs?" This time whistles sounded out along with the clapping.

"Do you hate following rules and regulations that are set by people you never voted for?" Several individual stood up while they clapped harder.

"Do you wish you could do something about it?" Everyone except for my small group rose to their feet hooting and hollering. Shawn and Mark surged to their feet, pulling Sam and me up fluidly with them so we wouldn’t stand out. Everyone clapped for several minutes before Alan finally motioned for us to sit.

Once the rowdy crowd had settled down, Alan continued, "That's why we're here. It's time that the underdog finally finds his voice. How many times has life slapped you down? How many times have those you counted on the most disappointed you, yet again? You're better than that and you can make a difference. You will no longer be the underdog anymore. I will show you and guide you to take control of your life. I will give you the incentive you need so you're not a doormat anymore." His words resulted in more applause.

I could now see how he had gained followers. He used the pain and suffering they had endured against them, letting it fester into something else. The grunge guy next to me was the first to applaud each of Alan's sentiments, and yet his despair seemed to multiply with every word Alan uttered. I could not comprehend how one individual could handle so much negativity without lashing out.