DEATH (The Justice Cycle Book 1) by J Kiefer (best classic books to read TXT) 📗

poncho. The goggles he had been wearing to protect his glasses sat next to him on the small rolling table he used to hold his instruments. The man seemed bewildered and he ran his fingers repeatedly over his scrunched forehead.

“Note: I’m not sure if I am just overtired, but I cannot observe any of the usual signs of death. Rigor mortis should have already set in, but the subject’s muscles are still supple and relaxed. Moreover, there are no signs of algor mortis either, as the subject’s body temperature has not dropped even one degree since it was brought in. It is as if the body has been placed in a state of suspended animation. Of course, that is not scientifically possible.”

The angel smiled, lighting up the antiseptically bright room even more, and he reached out and rested his massive hand on the little man’s shoulder. A wave of serenity washed over the man and he exhaled, visibly relaxing.

“It is time to take a break, James,” the angel whispered.

As if on cue, the man stood up. “I think I’ll take a quick break. I’m sure things will make more sense after I get a snack and a quick rest for my obviously tired brain.”

He turned to the cadaver on the table. “Now, you don’t go getting up and walking out on me, okay? Unless, of course, you are a vampire. Then feel free to get up and leave at your leisure. But if you are not one of the undead, then I promise when I get back, I will do my best to find some clue that will lead us to whoever did this to you.”

Turning away from the body on the gurney, the coroner gingerly pulled the poncho up and over his head and walked right through the angel standing behind him. Being a creature of the spirit, the angel, though able to affect the physical world, was unseen and incorporeal to most mortal beings, so the man felt nothing as he passed through him. He hung up the poncho near the room and left the angel alone in the room. Well, not entirely alone.

The body of the ancient warrior was naked and covered by a white sheet. The angel, whose eyes saw everything in both the physical and spiritual worlds, inspected the body searching for anything out of the ordinary. After a few minutes of careful scrutiny, the angel determined that the relic was not there. It had most likely transformed itself and captured the attention of a new bearer. There must have been a worthy successor in the proximity either during or directly after the battle, and the relic had already passed on. Either way, it was gone.

No matter, the angel had come for the Shogun and did not have the authority to tame the ancient power, anyway. The Lord in His great mercy had allowed him to come for his friend. Let the Blade Tzedakah be about its own business; the angel only cared about Sakanoue.

“Sakanoue no Tamuramaro,” the angel boomed, his voice resounding like a trumpet’s blare. “Rise.”

Immediately the body on the table sat up, and the white cloth fell away. Blinding light burst from the man, engulfing the small operating room like an exploding star. When the light receded, where the lifeless corpse had been sat a handsome young man. He glowed with ethereal light, no longer naked but clothed in brilliant white robes. Gone were the nightmare black eyes that had been his duty and his curse for so long. Gone was the darkness, the nightmare over.

Sakanoue looked up at his friend for the first time in ages with his own sparkling brown eyes. He attempted to blink away the tears that flowed freely down his cheeks. The angel lifted the small man up from the gurney and pulled him into a massive bear hug.

“Saka, oh how I have missed you, my friend!” he said. “As soon as the news of your passing had reached heaven, I petitioned the Almighty for the honor to be the one to come and retrieve you. Of course, it was granted to me.”

The newly awakened man smiled for what felt like the first time in a thousand lifetimes. His smile was broad, and he laughed heartily as he hugged his dear friend back. After a long moment, the angel returned the ancient warrior to the ground and he placed his massive arm around him. “Come, Saka, Heaven awaits us where there will be feasting and joy beyond measure.”

Saka didn’t move but stood still his face scrunched in confusion. “Michael, it is strange. I can barely remember anything past that one fateful night. I know that I have walked in shadows for centuries, but it’s as if it was merely a nightmare that has faded away upon waking. I remember you. I remember my children. I remember my wife and I remember all of the joy that I found in this life, but for the life of me, I cannot recall anything else.”

The angel laughed softly and smiled. “That is by design. The Most High has washed away any memory of grief or pain and left you with only that which has brought you joy.”

He reached out and opened a tear in the fabric of time and space. Pure light streamed from the opening. Saka squinted into the blinding light, trying to see what lay beyond it, but it was impossible.

“Come, my friend, this life has ended and the burden you once bore has been lifted from your soul. Let us now pass together into eternity.”

With that last statement echoing in the air, both men stepped into the light and vanished.

Fifteen

He stumbled down the corridor, his katana dragging noisily on the tile floor. Royal guards lay scattered throughout the palace, dead or dying. They had fought honorably and would be remembered well in the halls of their ancestors. He had no time to stop and mourn for them; he must reach the