Chapter 2
“Mike? You don’t mean
like the Archangel Michael, do you?”
After everything that had happened to him, Mark didn’t think
there was any way he could be surprised again, but finding himself face-to-face
with God’s own problem solver was a bit disconcerting.
“Hell, son, I don’t put a whole lot of faith in the stories
they tell about me. Call me Mike or
Michael, whichever you want, and we’ll be just fine.”
Mark quickly replied.
“Yes sir.”
Michael smiled at Mark, and it was the smile of a predator
who’d just locked eyes on easy prey.
“Sir? I think I might
like that even better.”
Both Jay and the old man chuckled at Michael’s response, and
the old man motioned for him to have a private conversation. Jay led the two outside, keeping a respectful
distance as he did. The old man spoke
first.
“I believe that if you have everything under control, I’ll
be on my way. I don’t want to risk
bringing our friends down on us.”
Michael agreed.
“After what happened in Rome, I can’t say I blame you.”
He threw a glance over his shoulder, catching Mark as he
tried to both eavesdrop and look innocent at the same time. Michael raised his voice.
“Well, son, you coming or not?”
Mark hesitated, seemingly uncertain of what the right answer
was, and Michael patiently waited several seconds before calling out again.
“Dang nabbit, son!
When I ask you a question, I’m expecting an answer!”
The harshness of the tone and words jolted Mark back to
reality.
“Yes. Yes sir.”
Michael nodded, and the four men continued their walk away
from the house. What Mark saw outside
brought back feelings he hadn’t had since the War. Eleven men, dressed in identical white
dusters, were guarding the perimeter of the property, Winchesters at the
ready. As Mark took a closer look, he
thought he saw something familiar about them.
He was also amazed by the wagon he and his three companions
headed towards. Wells Fargo didn’t have
a strong wagon as impressive as this metal monstrosity, and it gleamed as the
midday sun hit it. He was taken with the
level of protection it afforded, and even more impressed when two of the men
he’d noticed milling about took their positions on the driver’s bench, armed
and ready to go.
“She’s something, isn’t she?”
Jay’s voice drew Mark back into reality. It occurred to him he’d been staring off for
too long.
“Yeah. She is.”
“Too bad there’s a real need for her.”
Jay’s previously jovial tone seemed to turn momentarily
somber, but it passed, and he smiled as he clapped Mark on the back.
“Good to have you on board, but you might regret it once
Mike’s done with you.”
Michael’s reply carried over quickly.
“I heard that, you little long-haired punk.”
Jay grinned again, then headed for a small cluster of men,
with whom he discussed plans for the return trip. Mark couldn’t hear the conversation, and so
allowed his focus to turn to Michael, who was in the middle of what appeared to
be a heated discussion with the old man.
“I’m telling you, sir,
I’ve got this under control.”
The older man shook his head, though Mark could swear he
noticed a slight grin as he did.
“I knew you’d object to the offer, but I don’t think it’s
wise to leave you and Mark alone right now.”
Both men became aware of Mark’s attention, and quickly moved
to end the discussion, though Michael got the last word.
“I can handle a few demon dogs. What’s important is that we get you home safe
and sound. Just send my usual messanger
with the gear.”
The older man allowed a smile to break across his face,
mischief in his eyes.
“You DO realize Jay’s going to start taking it personally if
you keep asking for her to bring things to you.”
Michael grunted.
“Serves him right, the little punk. Never mix business with pleasure.”
The old man laughed again, shaking Michael’s hand as he
did. He then moved to Mark. As they shook hands, he stared Mark down with
a serious gaze.
“Now, son, I know you’ve been through a lot today, and I’m
sorry for that. Michael will answer as
many of your questions as he can. But,
make no mistake, his job is to whip you into fighting shape, so don’t be
surprised if that gentle exterior of his gets hard on you.”
A lump formed in Mark’s throat as they finished the
handshake. Unable to speak, he smiled
and nodded as the old man turned and climbed into the coach. It took mere seconds for the calm silence to
transform into a flurry of motion as the carriage and all of the horses sped
off—precious cargo in tow.
Michael stared after them until long after they’d sped from
view. Mark just stared silently—taking
in everything he’d seen and heard without saying anything. After several minutes of that, Michael turned
and headed back to the house. When Mark
hesitated to follow, Michael called out over his shoulder.
“Until I tell you otherwise, you go where I go, son.”
Mark fell in obediently behind
him, and they both walked back to the house in silence as the sun set.
The early part of the evening passed in silence. Mark fixed dinner for himself and Michael,
and neither of them spoke. The silence
continued as they ate, then as Mark cleared the dishes. Mark had finished straightening up the cabin,
putting fresh linens on the bed and laying out a sleeping pallet when Michael
finally spoke.
“I know you’ve been through a hell of a lot today kid, and
I’m sorry about it.”
Mark shrugged.
“Wasn’t your fault.”
Michael shot Mark a curious glance. The comment had come out with no emotion, not
even sarcasm. He slowly shook his head.
“If you’ve got something to say, son, I’d suggest you say
it. Starting at sunrise, I’m gonna be
riding you like you ain’t ever been rode before, so you if you’ve got something
to get off your chest, tonight’s the night.
Cuss, scream, yell……hell, son, do SOMETHING other than stand there with
your feet sunk in the mud.”
The sudden burst of emotion from Mark came as if shot from a
gun.
“Sunk in the mud? You
think I’m moping around? Let’s take a
quick look at how my day went, shall we?”
Mark was furious, mixing anger with sarcasm and waving his
hands wildly as he spoke.
“First, I get shot up by a bunch of men who stole my girlfriend. Next, I find out that instead of being dead
and able to relax inside the pearly gates, I’m actually still alive and talking
to the Almighty himself.”
The more Mark spoke, the more animated he got. Michael had to work hard to hold back a
smile.
“God….I mean, who actually TALKS to God? And when I do, what does he tell me? He tells me I’m going to be his new Avenging
Angel, doing his bidding in exchange for my life. How the Hell do you answer that? I want revenge, and He’s giving me the way to
do it, but….”
He stopped, his anger released. He blinked hard several times before finally
sitting down at the table. Michael said
nothing, choosing to give Mark the chance to gather his thoughts. When nothing came, he stepped in.
“You’re not sure if you want to do it anymore.”
It wasn’t a question, and Mark knew it. Michael had said exactly what he’d been
thinking. When the old man had laid out
the plan, Mark had initially seen it as the way to get revenge for his untimely
death. The fact that God had swapped the
word “justice” for “revenge” hadn’t slowed him down a bit.
“You’re right, you know.
It’ll never be the same again, regardless of how this all works out.”
Mark nodded, unable to speak.
“This new life comes with a serious catch, son, so you need
to understand it before we go any further.”
Michael leaned forward, locking eyes with Mark as he
continued.
“You can never, and I mean NEVER, have contact with the
people you knew in your past life. From
this point on, you’re dead to them. They
can never know you’re alive, why you’re alive, or what you’re up to.”
Mark’s expression asked the question he couldn’t find the
voice to.
“Nobody can know about you.
That’s the price. You’ll never
have a permanent home. Hell, son, you’ll
be lucky if you get to sleep in the same place more than once. Other than the old man, Jay, myself, and the
rest of the boys, you’ll never have a family.
We’re it, for better or worse.
Better still, this is an ‘all-the-time’ job—you don’t get days off.”
Mark interrupted, having finally found his voice.
“I thought you were supposed to be SELLING me on the job,
sir.”
Noting the sarcasm, Michael smiled.
“You’ve got pluck, kid.
I can see why they chose you.”
Leaning back in his chair, he produced a cigar from one of
his pockets and a match from another. He
lit the smoke as he continued.
“I AM supposed to sell this job to you. Thing is, though, I don’t want to get you
doing this only for you to decide a year from now that you got ripped off on
the deal. Figured I oughta be up front
with you, and the hard truth’s about as up front as I can get.”
Mark nodded, and Michael continued.
“I’m giving you the choice I didn’t have. When everything first went down, the old man
needed a general, and he needed one quick.
I volunteered to take the job, knowing I’d be fighting some of my
friends who changed sides, but I knew that if the old man fell, we’d all fall.”
It occurred to Mark what it was Michael was talking about.
“You mean, when Lucifer declared war on God and was sent to
Hell?”
Michael nodded. Mark
was stunned. He’d expected Michael to
give him a speech to bolster his confidence, but had never expected the older
man to share his real feelings. At
least, not like this. Realizing Mark was
unable to speak, Michael filled the silence.
“I never even considered what it would be like to do this
job. The old man needed me, and I
stepped up. All these years later, I
still wonder what would’ve happened if I’d let somebody else take the job.”
Noticing Mark’s jaw dropping, he smiled, changing his tone.
“So, you’re not sure you can do this job. Who is?
I mean, when the old man agreed to let me do this, I didn’t know which
end of the flaming sword to hold.”
Mark laughed, but quickly stifled it, gazing in fear at
Michael, who allowed the smile to remain on his face. He nodded and continued.
“That’s what I wanted you to do—lighten up a bit. Look, I know you’re not going to be sure what
to do at first. That’s why I’m going to
be here to work with you. Later on? Your instinct will kick in and you’ll take
action without even thinking about it.
That’s our goal.”
Mark nodded, understanding.
Michael took another drag off his cigar, then snuffed it out on the sole
of his boot. He slowly rose, stretching
out as he did.
“Okay kid, enough small talk. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, so
I suggest we turn in.”
Mark nodded, heading for the pallet as he did. Michael held out a hand, stopping him.
“I’m used to sleeping on the ground. I’ll take the floor.”
Before Mark could thank him, Michael smiled and added.
“Besides, once I’m finished kicking your ass tomorrow, you
won’t be able to sleep in a comfy bed for weeks.”
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