MIKE STOOD IN the field next to Olivia’s house, waiting for Saphar to arrive. Saphar was an old friend Mike had worked with on many missions before he became a guardian, so he made sure to request him specifically. Saphar knew Mike well enough to know how to help without being asked what to do, and he also had a great sense of humor. Mike knew he needed help with protecting Olivia, and Saphar was the best reinforcement angel for the job.
Humidity hung in the night air like a damp washrag, and the only sound was the frogs peeping in the pond nearby. Mike could see for miles from rolling hill to rolling hill. Within moments it was dark enough for Mike to gaze at the stars appearing as the sky faded from a light yellow to a deep blue.
Mike closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of the sweet air. When he opened them he saw Saphar standing in front of him with a wide grin.
Saphar was a lot like Mike as far as height and build, only he had dark red hair with soft curls that sometimes fell in his face. Mike returned his smile and gave him a strong hug of greeting.
Before they could exchange pleasantries, Mike’s sensitive hearing caused him to perk up his head, jerking it in the direction of the town. He focused in on two demons sitting on a bluff that looked down on Rising Sun a few miles away. He used all of his energy to hear what the demons were saying. Saphar picked up quickly on what Mike was doing and did the same. At first the demons’ voices were muffled as Mike weeded out all of the sounds, and it took a while before they became crystal clear. His supernatural sight zeroed in on their forms within moments. These were demons he’d never seen before. They were crouched down and looked very haggard, as minion demons often did, and were about the size of small dogs. One was larger than the other, and their saggy brown skin clung to their bones, protruding out of their frail extremities. Bony spikes shot out of their backs. Their large yellow eyes hungrily scanned the town below. Minions always had a leader, and Mike knew that there had to be a more powerful demon close by.
“We’re aiming for his heart on this one, Bazil,” one minion wheezed to the other. “If we can take out the girl, Lagarre will be very pleased.”
Mike froze. Lagarre was in Rising Sun. He grasped Saphar’s bicep as his knees buckled. His companion clasped his hand over Mike’s.
Mike tucked his hair behind his right ear as he concentrated on the conversation that ensued.
“You mean he won’t beat us anymore?” The other minion hissed and then let out a hideous, phlegm-filled cough.
“Maybe he will promote us like he is always promising.” The smaller, dog-like demon crouched lower to survey the town. “He will have to if we kill the charge of his rival. She is becoming trouble for all of us anyway.”
“Olivia,” Mike whispered. It was the joy of his heart they were speaking of. Of course Lagarre would find the most brutal way to wound him.
“Yeah, that high school girl and her friends are getting strong, even engaging the enemy to fight against us,” the large, dog-demon growled with disdain.
A swift, invisible force from behind the minions caught them off guard. A demon that must have been Lagarre sent them hurtling down the hill end over end.
“Shut up, you idiots! You never know who is listening!” Lagarre had changed in appearance. He was taller and thinner. He looked weak. Mike studied Lagarre’s face. It was more gaunt and skeletal. But there was no mistake that it was him. Mike tried to look closer, but just as he focused in, Lagarre looked directly in Mike’s direction. Even though Mike was watching from miles away, Lagarre could sense him. Mike immediately took his focus off of the bluff. He didn’t want Lagarre knowing what he had heard or where he was. If Lagarre could pinpoint Mike’s location, he could find Olivia, and that was the last thing Mike wanted.
In ancient times before the flood, when the ungodly offspring of fallen angels were destroying the Earth, Mike was assigned to hunt and destroy Lagarre and anything that Lagarre spawned. Lagarre was the son of one of the two hundred fallen angels who became infatuated with the daughters of man before the flood. They mated with these females, hoping to corrupt human DNA and thus prevent the prophesied Savior from coming to Earth. He fell for a beautiful brunette, the daughter of a powerful landowner in the Fertile Crescent. Their son, a powerful giant, ravaged the land, killing off all plants and animals within a hundred-mile radius.
The prayers of a Jewish priest engaged Mike to destroy this killer. He’d led a battalion of three hundred warrior angels who destroyed Lagarre’s son, sending his disembodied spirit to roam the Earth. When Lagarre found out, he vowed to destroy Mike, but he hadn’t had a real chance until now. Lagarre must have been hunting Mike for centuries, and now that he’d found him, he had the best weapon against him: his charge. By killing Olivia, Lagarre would be making good on his promise to see the demise of his archrival.
As Mike stood next to Saphar, a voice floating on the evening wind hissed, “Your precious little princess is dead!”
“He saw us!” Saphar breathed helplessly.
Mike turned around to find Lagarre standing in front of him.
Lagarre held out both of his bony hands and with one motion sent Mike and Saphar sailing end over end through the air, landing in a pond at Hopkins Park over five miles away.
A roar rose up from deep inside of Mike as he burst out of the water, thrusting his wings out to full length. He looked frantically around for Lagarre but didn’t see him. Lagarre didn’t want to fight. He wanted Olivia unprotected.
When Greg pulled up to the curb outside my house, I shouted good-bye to my parents and hurried out to the rusty blue Jeep. Eden and Christina sat in the back, so I climbed into the front passenger seat.
I was excited about going to the concert at my cousin’s church, but I felt a little apprehensive about Greg’s driving. He had a reputation for going really fast. “Christina says you have a lead foot.”
Greg laughed. When he turned the key in the ignition, loud music thumped from the stereo. I had to restrain myself from covering my ears.
We rode in silence since there was no way we could have any conversation over that noise.
Greg took one corner so fast the rear of the car fishtailed.
I clutched the door handle. Oh, God, don’t let us die. God, I assume You are going to protect us all so my friends can get to the church and hear the gospel?
“Yes.”
I relaxed my fierce grip on the door handle after I heard God’s response.
When we arrived at the theater we found a bar across the parking lot entrance, indicating it was full. Greg parked in the grassy field behind the building, along with several other cars.
When Greg cut the engine, the music died, and I breathed a sigh of relief. We all poured out of his Jeep. Christina took Greg’s arm, and we all proceeded to the open front door of the old town theater.
Even from outside we could hear throbbing music. This was going to make the noise from Greg’s car stereo seem tame.
We paid the ten-dollar entry fee, got our hands stamped, and entered the building. By the time we’d gone through the lobby and walked toward the stage, the volume of the music was blistering. We blended into the crowd of teenagers gathered around the stage but steered clear of the mosh pit, where ten guys flipped, spun, and ran around the edges of the circle.
In the midst of thumping bass, banging drums, and flashing lights, I felt myself moving to the beat. My ears would probably ring for days, but I didn’t care. I started to enjoy the full-throttle sound pulsating from the speakers.
Eden leaned in and screamed something in my ear. I had no idea what she said, but I shot her a smile and nodded. She smiled back. Then she pointed. Ty was standing about seven feet from us. Eden’s high school crush. I winked at her.
Greg stood in front of us, his arms encircling Christina. They moved together to the beat. Apparently they’d officially moved past “friend” status.
The song ended with guitars wailing and the vocalist screaming out his last note. The crowd roared.
A guy in tight jeans, a striped black T-shirt, and black hair approached Greg. I’d noticed him at school hanging out with Greg. His name was Toby. His black leather jacket and blue jeans blended in with the majority of the crowd.
Greg left Christina and moved toward Toby and slapped him on the back in greeting.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see my cousin Samantha wearing a black T-shirt that said Staff, jeans, and a pair of neon-green Chuck Taylors. She was three years older than me, but we had the same blonde hair, green eyes, fair complexion, and petite body frame. She threw her arms around me and shouted in my ear, “I’m so glad you came!”
I leaned in, my lips almost touching her ear. “I brought some friends with me.” I gestured toward Eden. “This is Eden. Her father is my pastor.”
Samantha waved at Eden. Eden waved back and smiled.
Greg had returned to stand behind Christina, so I touched him on the shoulder. “This is my cousin Samantha.” Christina and Greg nodded at her, then turned back toward the stage. Toby now stood next to Greg and Christina.
A young man who looked to be in his mid-twenties took the stage and introduced himself as Scott Anderson. “I’m the youth pastor here at Christian Life Church. Now, we want you all to have fun tonight. We also want you to know that you’re loved. If you don’t have someone in your life who loves you, or you just need to talk to someone, come see me or any of the people wearing staff shirts. We love you. God loves you. And God is awesome!”
A shout rose from the crowd. I hollered, too, clapping my hands, enjoying the excitement in the air.
God, You are awesome.
While Scott laid some ground rules for the evening, the next band came to the stage, unplugging chords and setting up guitars. Every one of the musicians had multiple tattoos and piercings—just like most of the people in the audience.
My church would stick up their noses at these kids. Why did Samantha’s church embrace them, even bring in bands they wanted to hear? Samantha had told me the theater was packed every month. The bands invited weren’t necessarily religious, but all sang songs with a positive message.
God, I see Your hand in this. I’d love to be a part of this ministry somehow.
Samantha tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m working lights for this gig. Wanna come up to the sound booth with me? You’ll have a great view from up there.”
I looked at Eden, who’d obviously heard the invitation.
She grinned. “Go for it!”
“Tell them.” I nodded at Christina and Greg, who were listening to the youth pastor introduce the next band.
Eden gave me the OK sign with her fingers.
I grabbed Samantha’s sleeve, and we wormed our way through the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd.
We climbed the stairs into the sound booth, which had a bird’s-eye perspective of the stage and the crowd. The fifteen-foot-square area was packed with strange-looking equipment. One guy moved knobs up and down on the larger sound board. Another one sat in front of the smaller board. A piece of masking tape on his gear had the word lights scrawled on it.
“Come over here.” Sam gestured for me to stand next to her by the lights board. The two guys who had been in front of it turned, smiled, and moved aside.
When the band hit their first note, Samantha started flashing the multicolored light cans mounted above the stage area, using the buttons and sliders on the control board. As the music played, she synchronized the lights with the beat of the song.
Cool!
The guy who had previously been running lights had moved behind the spotlight on a platform near the back corner of the room.
When the song ended, Sam looked at me. “Do you want to try it?”
“You bet!”
Sam stood behind me and guided my hands on the board to give me a feel for the buttons and how to push them. The music was so loud, there was no way she could audibly instruct me.
As the song ended I punched a few of the lights, my fingers dancing across the buttons like it was a computer keyboard. I followed the drummer's arms, watching for the beats coming up, and perfectly finished on the last crash of the drums.
“I think you’ve got it!” Samantha had a big smile on her face.
“That was fun.” I was hooked.
“I’m glad you liked it. Because Josh just called and asked if I could give him a break and run the camera for a few minutes. Think you can handle this on your own?”
“Do you think I can?”
Samantha winked at me. “You’re a natural.” She left to take her place behind the camera.
I focused my attention on the lights board, listening to the bass and drum for my beat, my eyes never leaving the drummer.
At the end of the song, the guy running the sound board smiled at me.
“I’m Aaron.”
“Olivia.”
He glanced at the lights board. “You picked that up pretty fast.”
“Did I do OK?”
“You did great.”
“Thanks. I’m really enjoying this.”
“You know, I’m looking for people to work on technical crew for the music festival this spring. Interested?”
“I’d love it.”
“Samantha can give you the details later.”
The next song started, so I focused on my new job. Playing with my “instrumental lights” made me feel like part of the band.
I’d always loved music, but I never thought I’d get into the technical aspect of it. But if I could do this, maybe I could get free tickets to lots of concerts. And I’d be able to watch them from this great vantage point, maybe even get to meet some of the band members.
I decided to learn this lighting stuff the best I could. Maybe get into sound and camera work too. At the end of the concert the youth pastor got back on stage and started talking about God.
Lord, please let Greg hear the message. I really wanted him to become a Christian since Christina was now. I figured Eden and Christina were praying for him too. I knew he’d need God to deal with the abuse he’d endured at his father’s hands for years.
While the youth pastor spoke I watched Greg’s body language. He seemed to be listening intently to every word.
“I know some of you are dealing with all kinds of stuff. You may have an addiction. Maybe you have relationship problems at home or at school. You might think no one cares. But God does. He can change your life. All you have to do is invite Him in. He loves you so much, He sent His Son, Jesus, to die for you, taking all your sins upon Himself. He died for each and every one of you. You matter to God.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed for God to help Scott say the right words and that those listening would respond positively to them.
“You can ask God to be a part of your life right now. You can pray and ask God silently. Or if you’d like to have someone pray with you, find the ones with staff T-shirts. What matters is that you make a choice tonight. The right choice.”
I liked the way this youth pastor spoke. He was direct but not preachy.
“Thanks for coming out tonight. The band is going to play one last song. I hope you’ll come back next month. And please attend our festival we’re having this April. Flyers will be at the doors as you leave.”
I’ll take a couple extra and hang them up around school.
The crowd cheered as the drummer clicked off the beginning of the song. I hated that it was the last song, since I enjoyed “playing the lights”
so much.
When the band ended I said good-bye to Aaron.
“I hope to see you at the music festival.”
“I hope to be there!”
I caught Samantha’s eye where she stood by the camera and waved at her, then made a phone sign with my hand and mouthed, “Call me.” She nodded. I wanted to let her know I could not wait to volunteer at the music festival.
I found my friends waiting by the door we had come in. They were all smiling. “Did you like the concert?”
They all said, “Yes.”
Then Greg added, “I really want to come next month. And also to the music festival.”
Yes!
Eden and I looked at each other and smiled.
“Wanna hang out at my house?” Greg suggested. “Dad’s pulling another graveyard shift, so we’ll have the house to ourselves.”
We all replied, “Yes.”
I was relieved Greg’s dad was gone for the night.
Toby followed us back to the car. “Hey, Toby, you coming?” Greg asked.
“Wh-—Sure.” He zipped up his black leather jacket and jammed into the backseat with Eden and me. He and I sat side by side, and I could see him trying to lean toward the car door to give me room. When our arms touched he spurted, “So sorry, excuse me.”
He seemed polite. And he didn’t give me the creeps.
I’m sure he’s fine if he’s friends with Greg.
It was only a five-minute ride to Greg’s. Thank God he didn’t have the radio roaring the whole way. My ears were still numb from the concert.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back as we drove, resting my eyes, hoping I’d be able to stay up at least another hour so I wouldn’t disappoint my friends. When the car jerked to a halt I snapped my head up. We’d pulled up in front of the red brick home. Eden and I exchanged concerned glances as we scanned around the neighborhood. Trash cans were strewn everywhere, lawns were overgrown, and shutters dangled from a few of the windows of Greg’s house. Several dogs barked as we approached the front door. Their echo came from every direction.
As Greg fumbled with the keys in the blackness, a cat hissed. I jumped. Eden gasped. I grabbed her jacket sleeve. “It’s just Cujo, the junkyard cat. Ha! Just kidding. That’s Cuddles. She doesn’t like strangers.
Greg cackled, hovered over the doorknob, his shoulders bobbing up and down as he reveled in freaking us out.
“Here, kitty,” Greg mewed at his cat, who raced ahead of us through the door as soon as it was open.
I inhaled stale cigarette smoke before even entering. Once inside it was overwhelming. My parents would certainly smell it on me when I got home. I wondered what they’d say.
I quickly texted my Dad:
At Greg’s. Will be home in an hour. Eden and Christina are with me. I’m fine.
I left out Toby’s name, not wanting Dad to get worried or suspicious. Within seconds I received his response:
See you soon, Goldilocks.
We all shed our jackets and threw them on the living room couch. Greg switched on an overhead light that illuminated the area by the front door and the stairway right in front of it. We bounded up the stairway, giggling as Christina imitated the way Greg talked to his cat like it was a little baby.
As we followed Christina down the hallway toward Greg’s room, he came rushing past us to cut us all off. He almost shoved me aside as he fled into his room, shutting the door behind him. I pounded my fists on the door, and we all pretended to be upset. All we heard was shuffling. There was no answer to our sarcastic whining.
“OK! You can come in!”
Christina turned the knob, and the door squeaked on its hinges. Greg was sitting on his bed as if nothing had happened, his arms folded across his chest. I raised my eyebrow at him while everyone else filed in the room. He just shook his head as if I had no reason to be suspicious. I gave up trying to figure out what Greg was hiding until Christina reached under Greg’s pillow and pulled out a beat-up stuffed dog. Greg reached for it in vain. Christina was too fast.
“Put Boo down!” Greg yelled before he could stop himself.
The room went silent, then erupted in laughter. Greg turned beet red. Toby reached over and snatched the dog from Christina and cradled it in his arms and rocked it like a baby.
Greg joined in with the laughter. He was a good sport, even though he was obviously embarrassed.
“You have no reason to be ashamed of Boo,” Christina said, grabbing the stuffed dog from Toby. “He’s adorable, even with a missing eye.”
Greg grabbed Boo from her and stuffed him back under his pillow with a sheepish grin.
“How about a movie?” Greg said, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Sounds good to me!” Eden said out of compassion for him.
We situated ourselves on Greg’s floor with lots of blankets and pillows. Once the popcorn and candy was distributed, we started the movie. It was one of Greg’s mindless yet entertaining action comedies. I fell asleep almost immediately. I woke up to everyone laughing because I had let out a loud snort and woke myself up with a violent jerk. I hated when I did that. Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. Toby seemed to be sound asleep as well, so deeply that he’d missed my horrible moment.
I looked over at Greg and Christina and saw that Boo was nestled in between them. I couldn’t help but smile. Greg just shrugged his shoulders as if admitting his love for his stuffed dog, Boo. I couldn’t have loved my friends more at that moment.