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Asahel could delve out. I put my hand in this angel’s. Warmth and light washed over me to the point that I could hardly see.

“Where are you taking her?” Asahel’s voice came through that angel’s glory to my ears. I could barely see him for the brightness that surrounded us.

Before the golden-eyed-angel gently closed his fingers on my hand, he said to Asahel, “The war.”

 Then in a streak of light, we were gone.

Almost immediately I found myself standing in the middle of a desert with a blazing hot sun. It was high overhead, and the sands stretched from one end to the other. Being one of the not-dead, the sun could not burn me, but I could still feel the heat.

Quietly letting my hand go, the golden-eyed-angel said to me, “Wherever you walk, lead souls back Home.”

I looked left, then right, squinting in the sunlight. “Uh… where… where does my territory start and end?”

A tiny smile crooked up on his lips. “This country. No borders. You will know when you have stepped out of it.”

He turned to go.

“Wait!” I called after him. “What’s your name?”

He smiled at me fully this time. “You have forgotten me, I see. My name is Uriel.”

*

Hanz slept long and deep. When he finally awoke he found himself in a clean spare room which had no real identifying features to it except to be neat and orderly—at least at first glance. Above the bed, he soon saw, was a painting of a wolf which gazed serenely at him as if contemplating nothing more than the presence of a stranger in his wood.

“You’re awake.”

Hanz looked to the door and saw Rick Deacon. Rick came in. He was dressed in a plain tee shirt and jeans. His gray eyes were probing, almost wolfish in his stare on Hanz. Yet his facial expression was entirely human and concerned.

“You’re not going to give up looking for Eve, are you?” he said.

Hanz sat up and shook his head. “No.”

“Good,” Rick came in closer. With a peek at the door as if checking to see if people were listening in, he whispered. “I know they want me to encourage you to move on, but honestly you and I both know Eve is worth every bit. She’s just lucky that she has you.”

For a guy who was jealous of his relationship with Eve, Hanz was blown away by Rick’s complete comprehension.

“I’ll help you find her, if I can,” Rick said. “But you have to take care of your own life also. Now, I heard you have to get settled in an internship or whatever—”

“Residency,” Hanz said, sliding out from the covers. He looked for his shoes, which were at the side of the bed. He then glanced down himself, realizing that Rick had also given him pajamas to wear the night before, though that memory had been hazy.

Rick nodded. “Yeah. Abey tells me it’s hard to get a good one. But what you want is mobility, or access to somewhere you can keep your ear out for news of Eve. I might be able to help you there.”

Hanz perked up, listening, as Rick Deacon was a multi-billionaire with global connections—and Hanz had a feeling Eve was no longer in the US. Rick was also the best friend to the leader of the Holy Seven and would keep that in mind.

“How would you like to work on the East Coast?” Rick asked, looking hopeful.

Han slowly nodded, his own hope returning. He said, “I’m for anything that will help me find her.”

Grinning, almost wolfish, Rick nodded. He extended a hand and said, “Hello Mr. Johaansen. I am now your new sponsor. Name the place, and I will get you there.”

Closing his eyes, saying a silent prayer, Hanz felt his hope swell within. And a thought came to his mind. “How does the Middle East sound to you?”

Rick raised his eyebrows. “Interesting.” He then lifted up the kid backpack Eve had left on the hospital roof. “But first, let’s return this.”

 

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Publication Date: 02-04-2019

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