Free Airs & Graces by Jeffrey Cook, A.J. Downey Page A

whoever caught up with me first, Fallen, Demon, Angel, Archangel, or Tab… that they would end me quickly, because at this point I didn’t think any of them cared to keep me alive.
    “Have you told her what your plans for her are? Did you tell her that you contemplated killing her, even planned it?”
    I was so stupid, letting my emotions get the better of me. Still, I didn’t know how to find Tab, nor was I inclined to beg his forgiveness. I doubted he’d listen anyways. I don’t think it suited his agenda. So ironic and hypocritical…
    “I came here to stop Heaven or Hell from spilling out on your world… Many, many, people will die. That is why I’m here, and for no other reason.”
    I wiped at a stray tear. I guess being the big hero and saving all of humanity was important. I sighed and tried to strangle the voice of self-pity. I didn’t want to die, but I couldn’t help but think…
    Wasn’t I human too? Wasn’t I people?
    I dismissed the thought, but it was followed by another, even crueler and probably the most selfish thought I had ever had… What did I owe the human race? There wasn’t a single person living on this planet that cared about me, so why should I care about them? I mean, if I died now, no one would even… I stopped and my heart sank under the weight of my guilt. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t that person. I never would be that person.
    I clenched my jaw with renewed determination. Time for me to suck it up, because as long as I was alive, I would do everything I could.
    “Thank you, God.” I breathed and kissed the cross of the rosary that lay against my wrist, I tried to ignore the feeling – like I was falling, and that this renewed determination was just me grasping at anything I could to keep myself from going splat.
    It would take me only a couple of hours or so to get where I was going. It was warm in my car, and I was getting tired. Still, I wasn’t going to stop at a motel or anything… That would just be crazy. I watched my speed and drove by the book while I was at it. I didn’t need to be one of those fugitives. While I wasn’t certain I was a fugitive per se, I was absolutely sure I had to at least be a person of interest in Piorre’s death. That was bad enough. I really didn’t need to be one of those fugitives that was captured because they were speeding or made an illegal turn or whatever. I was doing just peachy at being an idiot without adding a complete blunder like that one to the list.
    I got past Washington’s capital, about an hour south of Seattle, and found a rest stop. I parked and reclined my driver’s seat and crashed for a couple hours. I know I shouldn’t have. I mean I should have been physically tired, but the gauntlet of emotions I’d been run through had taken its toll on me probably even more. I woke at dawn and sat up cautiously, worried at first that something had woken me, not that I’d just woken up. I started my car and brought up my seat. The amber necklace looked ordinary, no lights, and there was no sound, but still I wanted to get out of dodge. I drove on and tried to focus on not thinking for the remainder of the drive.
    I continued south down the freeway and hung a right at Longview, crossing the Astoria bridge, and with it, the state border between Washington and Oregon. When I was a kid, my mom had some cousins in Astoria we would go visit every summer. We’d go to the beach and do kid things, but the beach I had in mind had always been a place where I could reflect as I got older.
    In my teenage years, going there had always brought a certain peace as I listened to the waves and the gulls. As far as I knew I had never mentioned it to Piorre, Tab, or anyone else that had to do with this idiocy. Once across the bridge, I went right on Highway 30 and just kept on.
    I felt a bit calmer, but still wound tight. My chest squeezed tight around my pain. I was past being angry now and just hurt. I was more than afraid at this point too.