Free The World Ends at Five & Other Stories by M Pepper Langlinais Page A

see the Ames building, the top of it gone, with nothing remaining but a great radiance, shining like a misplaced lighthouse beacon in the center of the city. On the far side of the city, small drops of fire had alr eady begun to fall like strange rain.
    “There is no reason for concern,” Stephen said in his quiet way, although the faint wrinkle of his brow denoted something like worry or maybe perplexion . “We must simply make it to the water.”
    Doria turned to loo k over her shoulder. A far-off, fiery glow haloed the farthest side of the city. “ What. . .?” Stephen pulled sharply on her arm. “Don’t look back.”
    She cast a quick glance at him then started to turn back to the burning metropolis, so he took her head in one strong but gentle hand and twisted it to face forward. “I know you know your scripture. Think of Lot’s wife.”
    She raised her eyes to him and gave a little nod to show she understood. A few minutes later, they stood on the shore of the bay.
    Out over the water, the clouds were a bruised and sullen violet. The waves were choppy, slate gray, pushed by a brisk and unrelenting wind. Doria gazed out at the dark horizon and gave an involuntary shiver. “Now what?”
    “We keep walking.”
    Her eyes searched for a boat, footprints in the sand, any clue as to where exactly they were going to be walking to. “But--”
    “Straight ahead, into the water.”
    “Listen, Steve or whatever your name is, I’ve been kidnapped, held in a dark room by a lunatic who thought he was, I don’t know, Satan or something? The whole damned city is burning, and you want me to walk out into the bay, no boat, no life preserver, just out into the storm on what, my faith?”
    The silver eyes studied her expression carefully, his own face still and blank. “I understand this is difficult for you. It is a true test of your faith.” Stephen held out his hand. “Either come with me now, or stay with your city.”
    Doria started to turn again for one last glimpse but stopped herself. She looked at the water. She looked at him. She took his hand.
    They walked until the water was nearly to her knees before she protested once more. “This is getting ridiculous. Where are we going?”
    Stephen’s eyes roamed the horizon restlessly. “It will be here. Soon.” The last word sounded tacked on, as if it was more to persuade himself than her.
    “What? The Pearly Gates?”
    The angel grimaced. “I’m not sure I would describe them as such exactly.” But the furrow on his brow was deepening. He gave her hand a slight tug. “Come, let’s go a little farther.”
    Doria groaned but relented. She was rewarded for her patience only by another frown and the rather worrisome words, “Could it be that we are--”
    And then the water parted and a tall man with a mane of dark hair appeared. He wore armor that flashed even in that darkness and held a great golden key. Stephen’s eyes grew wide at the sight of him.
    “Michael,” Stephen said, unable to completely disguise his surprise.
    “The angel Michael?” Doria asked him lowly. “Archangel,” Stephen corrected just as quietly. And his grip on her hand tightened somewhat.
    Michael smiled, but instead of being an altogether pleasant sight, it was more like a flash of lightning during a particularly damaging storm--a flash that promised only more of the same, if not worse.
    “Congratulations, Stephen,” he said, “ you ’ve proven yourself.”
    Stephen only blinked.
    “This was as much a test of your own faith as well as hers. . . and Andrew’s. It was thought by some that you would not be able to go through with it. And that Andrew might be tempted away as well.”
    “Andrew hated,” Stephen reported sadly.
    “And it was his hate that saved him. Your compassion is your weakness, Stephen. Many of us thought you would have too much of a heart to let the city fall.”
    “But Andrew--”
    “Had to steel himself against the temptation of an old friend.