Jimmy sat, sick from the smell of sulfur and the black smoke swirling in the carriage that filtered out the windows. He held his crying son in his arms close to his chest. Molly lay dead on the floor at his feet. He needed Ginger to take James so he could go outside and see what the Archangel was doing.
Ginger fell over her friend, trying to revive Molly in a hopeless attempt to restore her life. She needed Catherine. The little girl still sat up top and since the wheels of the carriage continued turning, Jimmy knew that at least one saint remained among the living.
He considered Bobbie Sue for his immediate babysitting needs, except that the girl had seen too much in her short span with them. She held the frame of the window in a tight-knuckled clasp, her head whipping back and forth as if expecting Patrick to appear again or for the boy she thought she knew to fly through the carriage on a pair of angel wings. Her capacity to lend support was nonexistent.
“Ginger.” No response from her, only sobs of desperation as she huddled over her friend in deep despair. “Ginger, hold James, please. I have to get out there.”
What he would do once outside, Jimmy couldn’t begin to fathom. He could not stay in here and do nothing. Why had Michael left them to fend for themselves at the mention of the Horseman? Had he been worried about Catherine more than Molly, or Jimmy?
He felt the carriage slow, the blur of the prairie became more focused, until the rolling stopped with a swaying shudder.
Bobbie Sue did not wait to be asked to disembark the wild ride. She blew out the door like Samuel. Instead of growing wings, she hit the ground and ran. Jimmy figured that was probably the smartest option, but without going out himself he was clueless. No way was he jumping out into the unknown with James in his arms.
“Ginger!”
“Jimmy, is everyone okay?” Mark asked from up top.
Jimmy’s heart sank. “We need Catherine in here now.”
Catherine swung down from the driver’s bench and peered inside the window, anger twisting her features that then softened with understanding when she saw the calamity inside. She opened the door and landed on her grass stained feet inside the carriage by Molly’s head.
She touched Ginger’s shoulder. “Up, sister, hold your child. I will bring our dear friend back.”
Ginger fell back against the bench with tears coursing down her face, sinking Jimmy’s heart some more seeing the girl he loved in this state.
Catherine looked at him. “I’ll handle this. You better get outside and see if you can help Michael until I’m finished up here.”
“Oh, Jesus, Molly!” Mark said at the door where Catherine had entered.
“I’ve got this, Mark,” Catherine told him as he forced his way inside to be with his twin sister, bumping the little girl out of the way. Catherine fell into the seat next to Jimmy, popped back up and grabbed Mark’s face in both her hands. “I can bring her back with your help.”
Mark’s eyes cleared at the news and the opportunity to do something other than grieve for Molly’s loss. He nodded and knelt beside her, laying his hands on her silent shoulders. He looked up expectantly, waiting for the miracle.
“Ginger, take James,” Jimmy said.
His little boy reached for his mommy’s arms, her despair fleeting with news that Catherine could bring Molly back. She took their son and nuzzled him close to her neck and patted his bottom as the baby released a slow sob, then quieted as Catherine brought in the golden light.
Free of his charge, Jimmy jumped out the other door where Bobbie Sue had bolted and found Dylan hiding near the front after climbing his way down from the driver’s bench.
“Where’s Michael?” Jimmy asked.
Dylan pointed around the back and Jimmy was almost too afraid to look. If Patrick had been able to master his skills, which certainly appeared to be the case, then did Michael stand a chance against the entity twice? Having fallen the first time when Jimmy wore Death’s mantle?
Jimmy bolstered his resolve and stepped to the back to find Michael, wings stretching high behind his back, his shirt torn to sunders, the sunlight shining on him like a true creature of God, grounded with the Horseman of Death firmly held face down. Patrick’s arms were pinned behind his back and the angel’s fierce expression showed no signs of mercy.
Michael said, “You will relinquish the souls you’ve stolen today.”
“Or what, flyboy?” Patrick grunted.
“I will take you apart piece by piece and the world can finally live without the fear of you.”
“You ain’t got that kind of authority,” Death said. “You’re just another upstart from Heaven with no accountability and absolutely no future.”
Michael jerked up Patrick’s arms and Jimmy saw the rope that the angel used to bind the Horseman glowing with golden light. He looked back and saw the same light cascading from the doorway of the carriage where Dylan sidled up, watching the progress of Molly’s resurrection with his mouth dropped open in fascinated awe.
Jimmy understood. No matter how many times you saw it, you couldn’t help feeling glorified.
Jimmy wasn’t sure if he should lend a hand to Michael, or if he’d be in the way and possibly a distraction. The Archangel’s rope appeared to affect Death’s ability to smoke away, or worse, transform into the Angel of Death.
The veins in Patrick’s neck rippled beneath the skin as he kicked and struggled under the Archangel. Michael pulled Death’s arms up higher and drove his knee between the shoulder blades until the Horseman’s efforts ceased.
Patrick fumed and spat in the dirt. “What is in that rope?”
“Strands of hair from all of those you have killed this day. Release their souls and maybe the enchantment will no longer work and you can try to escape.”
“You’re testing me?”
“I am giving you options.”
Patrick lay silent. Michael looked up with his face set like stone and tipped his head at Jimmy. The minutes passed and no one moved, allowing Patrick to think. More likely, the Horseman of Death was reserving his strength for another attempt to break free. The Archangel’s muscles bulged through the holes in his tattered shirt as he kept applying pressure.
“I really need to hit the gym more,” Dylan said. “Samuel must have his own setup at home because I’ve never seen him at Hunter’s weight room and I’m there every night.”
Jimmy turned his head. “Samuel doesn’t lift weights.”
“No way, with those arms and that chest.”
“All I’m saying is you should try farming instead of sitting on a bank watching bobbers all day.”
“It’s what I like to do, plus, I’m pretty good at it.”
“Yes, you are, and that’s why I’m not letting you stop.” Jimmy examined Michael’s muscles and felt a little intimidated. “Besides, that’s not all Samuel. I think that comes with the wing package.”
“I need to get one of those,” Dylan said. “Do you want me to go bring Barbie back?”
Jimmy looked off in the direction she had fled. “It’s Bobbie Sue now.” He saw her head pop up out of the high grass a hundred yards away. “Yeah, you better. It might take some convincing. She’s pretty freaked out.”
“I’ll tell her not to worry,” Dylan said, walking away. “We still have to go slay a dragon and shit.”
“Maybe leave that part out.” Jimmy returned his attention to Michael, and rubbed his biceps with a sudden desire to bulk up.
“Ooh, muscles.” Catherine giggled. She must have read his mind after magically appearing.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“She’ll be up in no time.”
“Molly?” Jimmy asked to make sure they were talking about the same person.
“Stay here,” she said. “I have to go deal with this.”
The little girl slowly walked towards Death without answering Jimmy’s question.
He shook his head and stepped backwards, looking into the carriage where Mark was kneeling over his sister with elation shining on his face. Molly’s chest rose with the breath of life. Jimmy looked at his wife holding their son and smiled. She returned it and kissed James on his forehead.
Jimmy blew a kiss their way and then he returned his attention to Saint Catherine.
“Bring him to his feet,” she told the Archangel.
Michael jerked Patrick up.
The Horseman of Death stared down at the little girl with contempt. “What are you going to do little girl? Kick me in the shins?”
She shook her head, her golden hair like silk strands touched by sunshine swayed back and forth. “You have broken your contract by the lives you took. You have forfeited your position as Death. In fact,” she stepped closer, “you have lost that role for eternity.”
“You have no power over me. I am Death. This has been my right since Adam and Eve made their choice in the Garden. I am a power unto myself, and myself alone. I am eternal.”
“You are unmade by choice.” Golden light brighter than any sun burst through Catherine. “And I am His retribution.” She took one more step, a hair’s breadth from Death. “On your knees!”
Michael shoved Death down to face the little saint at her level.
Patrick’s eyes widened.
Catherine placed her hands on the sides of his face and the golden light tore through Patrick. Beams of God’s power shot through his body.
Death screamed. A long hollow howl. Darkness purged free from his soul, stripping away the mantle of Death from the monstrous Patrick.
Catherine lifted her face. The golden light fled from her to the heavens, penetrating the blue sky, and then Patrick fell from the Archangel’s hold, his body hit the ground and laid as still as the air around them. The Archangel spread his wings. Catherine held three shining balls of golden light in her hands.
She leaned over the lights. “Go my sisters. The boys need your help.” Michael took to the air, flying in the direction of Independents. Catherine tossed the golden lights above her head and they streaked across the sky after the Archangel.
Jimmy slowly walked over to the little girl, looking down on the giant kid that had been Death. He laid his arm across her shoulders and she turned, hugging him around the waist, crying softly as he held her close.
They left Patrick without the time to bury him properly. If Death had been defeated, Jimmy was afraid to ask if Patrick was actually dead himself, and since the monster did not pick himself off the ground, Jimmy left the assumption alone.
Dylan had convinced Bobbie Sue to rejoin them, and she sat in the carriage, ill at ease, staring at Molly.
Jimmy sat next to Ginger, holding hands, both happy to have Molly back. Mark, Dylan and Catherine were up top with the little girl, driving the stagecoach again, heading at top speed towards Independents.
Molly bounced James in her lap, smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world. James squealed with laughter and Molly joined him as the wheels went round and round.