I suddenly regretted agreeing. “But my place is here, by y-“
“Then you will die with our beloved Kingdom,” he said without rancor. “We are lost, but by sealing Eden we might buy some time for the miraculous.”
“God has left us. There are no more miracles in the world,” my words were like gravestones, tumbling heavy from my mouth.
“Perhaps, but do not give in to despair. You fought for Heaven despite the odds against it, for though He might be gone from our world, the Father still lives within our hearts. If it is His will that we are to fall, then so be it, but I do not believe He would cast us aside so easily.”
I met Uriel’s eyes and saw the conviction that burned inside their depths. He truly believed there was still hope. I couldn’t refuse him his request, though I didn’t share his faith. I agreed to do as he asked. After, he turned back to the battle, clearing the way for me to reach Eden.
Slowed by my wounds, I stumbled through the gates and made my way across the Garden. Every step was agony to both my flesh and my heart. I could hear the battle at my back, its roar slowly fading as I left it behind. It felt as though I too was abandoning Heaven as God had, leaving my people to die as I did nothing to save them. But I’d given my word to Uriel that I would seek out help, and so I would.
As I stepped through the Earth-side gates of Eden and fell into the bright blue sky, I could think of only one person I could turn to who might help to win Heaven free of its enemies.
God help us all.
Prohibition Black and Blues
Maybe it’s just me, but there’s something inherently uncomfortable about having the barrel of a gun named Tommy shoved in your mouth.
“You tell Capone and Lou to keep their fingers out of North Side pockets, or Bugs is gonna cut ‘em off, you get me?”
“Mmeha, mwii watchuh.”
“What?”
I rolled my eyes toward the gun and raised my eyebrows. It took Paulie a couple of seconds, but he got it.
“Damn it, Jimmy. Take the gun outta his mouth so I can figure out what the Hell he’s saying.”
The monolithic unibrow of the caveman standing in front of me wiggled like an angry caterpillar, and I could have sworn I saw a dim light flicker in the windows of his eyes. He grunted and took a step back. The barrel yanked loose of my mouth with a wet pop. The grey steel was shiny with my spit, and I ran my tongue over my teeth trying to get rid of the taste of gun oil. It wasn’t the worst thing I’d had in there, but I can’t say I wanted a second helping. Paulie growled to remind me he’d asked a question.
“I said, ‘Yeah, I gotcha,’ Paulie.”
“See there, Jimmy? I told you Frank was smarter than he looks.”
I almost blushed at the compliment.
“You go on home now, and tell your uncle what I said. If he don’t convince Capone to keep his business out of Bugs’ territory, folks on the south side of the line are gonna get shot.” Paulie laughed and Jimmy joined in, chuckling like a gelded donkey.
The two turned away and started toward their car. As Paulie opened the driver’s side door of his black Model-T, he glanced over at me. His smile bent his cheeks wide. “Hey, Frank, I’m curious. What kind of name is Ceefer anyway? It sure don’t sound Italian.”
I smiled right back. “It’s an old family name.”
“Well, you just make sure old Lou gets the message.” He slid into his seat.
Jimmy shook his head. “Lou Ceefer. Sounds foreign, Paulie.” He laughed as he hopped in the other side of the car. The barrel of his gun poked out the window after he closed the door. I could see them grinning behind the windshield.
If they only knew.
Lou Ceefer, my uncle, wasn’t much for subtle. Of course, when you’re the Devil, you don’t have to be. That’s why he sent me.
He’d ordered a torch job on a speakeasy Moran had just opened, right across the north-south line. In a better neighborhood, with the cops on the take, Bugs’ place was drawing Capone’s regulars and their money across the split. That didn’t sit well with Capone.
Don’t let it ever be said that Lucifer doesn’t look out for his own. You make a deal with the Devil, you can bet your soul he holds up his end of the bargain.
I’d been casing the place, waiting for the night crowd to finally drift home, when Paulie cruised past. On foot, trying to be inconspicuous, I couldn’t get off the street before the headlights hit me. On my way toward the club at four a.m., Paulie stopped to take a closer look. We’d bumped into each other a few times, so he recognized me. He knew I wasn’t out sampling the night life. That’s when I got to be cozy with Tommy.
Fortunately for me, Paulie isn’t smart enough to figure out who Uncle Lou is, let alone put it together he isn’t human, or that, by extension, neither am I. While a machine gun burst in the mouth would hurt worse than President Harding’s economic policies, it wouldn’t be fatal. Messy, certainly, but not deadly. Sure, I’d be on a liquid diet for a day or two, but I’d get over it.
Paulie probably thought I was just some punk kid following my uncle into the business. Guess he figured he could scare me a little and maybe I’d beg Lou to back off, afraid I’d get hurt or something. He’d thought wrong.
As the Ford roared to life outside the empty speakeasy, I waved to Bugs’ goons, keeping the dumb smile on my face. It’s always best if people think you’re slow.
I strolled toward the driver’s side, casually stuffing my hands into my coat. “Hey, Paulie, you think Bugs might need another guy? You know, some extra muscle, or something?” It also helped if they thought you were a coward.
Paulie’s grin nearly made his eyes slant as he barked out a laugh. “You thinking of switching sides there, champ?”
Alongside the car, I gave a halfhearted shrug. “It seems to me-five-a guy’s gotta-four-look out for himself- three-you know?”
Both Paulie and Jimmy stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“What you countin’ for?” Jimmy asked as Paulie’s eyes went wide, the gears engaging somewhere inside his skull. There was no question as to who was the smarter of the two.
“No reason-one.” I blew a kiss at Paulie as I slid the grenade through his open window. It landed in the floorboard with a solid thump, and I didn’t hang out to see how they took it.
No cover on the street, I ducked low and ran with my hands over my head. My only consolation for waiting so long to bug out was that having burning pieces of steel embedded in my ass was nowhere near as painful as swallowing a load of bullets.
You gotta look for the good in things.
The car went up with a roar. Shards of it peppered my back, knocking me flat on the street as a wash of heat whipped past. I barely felt the ground when I hit, the barrage of fiery bee stings lighting me up from behind. I wasn’t winning this game of pin the tail on the jackass.
I kept my arms over my head and my cheek pressed against the cold road until the ping of shrapnel stopped and I didn’t feel the bite of it any more. Through the tinny hum in my ears, I could hear the crackle of the flames that had engulfed the car. Couldn’t hear much else though, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before sirens rang out in the night. Bugs had the cops in his pocket and he’d be shaking them like his keys to get them out here to see what happened.
Up on my feet, I took a quick glance at the damage. Couldn’t see much, but I imagined the whole of my back looked like what I could see, speckled with glimmers of silver and dots of red. My trench coat was pinned to my skin by metal debris and blood. It felt like a really bad case of sunburn, but it wasn’t too bad.
