Shadow Guardians - Genesis (11 page)

“I have no choice,” Fozzley said. He aimed his fist into the sky, and a huge dark swirling cloud formed. Fozzley directed it at Miguel. Miguel dodged it and kept on the move, so he didn’t provide a stationary target for Fozzley. Miguel flew behind Fozzley and grabbed him in a choke hold, lifting him into the air. Miguel formed a flaming blue knife with his right hand and sank it into Fozzley’s skull. Fozzley was motionless. Miguel dropped him to the ground. Matt walked over to Fozzley to see if he was alive. “No. Get away, Matt,” Miguel yelled. Fozzley opened his eyes and shot a burst of green plasma into Matt’s chest, point-blank. Matt wheezed and coughed and cried in agony. Miguel ran towards his friend. Jericho caught him and stopped him. “It’s too late,” Jericho said. “I can sense Soulcatchers coming to this place for Matt,” Mimi said, sobbing heavily. “Matt,” screamed Miguel. “Matt”! Miguel was angry beyond words. He walked over to Fozzley and shot electricity into him. Miguel stood over Fozzley for minutes, shooting electricity into him. The longer he stood there, the more intense the energy became. Fozzley’s body burst into flames, and he screamed his last words—“Magda, we will be together”. When Fozzley’s body was just a mound of dirt, Miguel stood on top of it, and crushed it with his feet. He stomped repeatedly.

By now, the Soulcatchers had come for and taken Matt. Everyone turned their back and tried to block out the swishing noise made when a Soulcatcher’s blade severs a spirit and separates them permanently from this world. Mimi began to weep, as did Jericho. They watched Soulcatchers take him away. “I never thought it could come to this,” Jericho said. “Matt didn’t deserve that,” Mimi added. “We will never be the same without him,” Miguel added.

CHAPTER TWENTY: ADJUSTMENTS

The team went back to their former apartment in New York, where Selda had obviously been earlier and cleared all her possessions. Miguel, Jericho, and Mimi busied themselves finding and packing their things. There was a noticeable silence in the room. “The past two days have been trippy,” Miguel said. “That’s a gross understatement,” Jericho said. “Let’s just be quick and get out of here, Mimi said. Several hours later, the team had made its last haul from New York to their new address back in Maine. “For her hand in Matt’s departing from this earth, I will someday destroy that Angel,” Miguel said. “Is that just because of what happened with Matt, or are you developing an inner hatred for Angels, like the rest of your race,” Jericho asked. “How dare you talk about discrimination and racism to me,” Miguel said. He and Jericho stood chest to chest. Mimi put her arm between them and pushed Miguel back. “Can you use that energy to finish unpacking our things into this apartment, so we can re-group and talk,” Mimi asked.

“Matt would want us to finish what he started, rescuing those Chinese slaves from the human traffickers,” Mimi said. “The only problem is that we can’t impersonate Harlan Frankley any more,” Jericho said. “What if you controlled his mind, instead of us having to impersonate him,” Miguel asked. “You can direct him to the meets to pick up the slaves, and we can free them. At least one more time, in honor of Matt,” Miguel said.

The flight back to New York was long, but no one complained—not when it came to doing a favor for Matt. They entered Harlan Frankley’s house from a window in the basement that was left open. Miguel’s fists provided light as they searched for the stair case and ascended it. When they opened the door at the top, they found an immaculate kitchen, ornate dining area, and a spacious recreational area with a couch, loveseat, and a wall-mounted television. “It makes me sick that the kind of business this man does brings him such luxury and privilege,” Jericho said. “His days are numbered,” Miguel said. “He’s in that room, on the phone,” Mimi said, pointing to a room to the left. They all hovered toward the door. “I can’t wait until my wife goes out of town, so we can spend some time together, sugar,” Mr. Frankley said. “No, it can’t be tonight. I’ve got to deal with a mix-up at work,” he added. “Somehow, a package arrived and someone else intercepted it. Now, they’re blaming me. I have to fix it, or there could be trouble,” Mr. Frankley said. “I love you too,” he said, as he hung up the phone.

Mr. Frankley opened a closet behind the door. In it, a young, naked woman, tied in duct tape sobbed hysterically. “We’re almost done, honey,” Mr. Frankley said. He slapped the woman in the face, and her nose began to bleed. “Cant’ you answer when someone’s talking to you,” Mr. Frankley said. Miguel shot a blast of fire at Mr. Frankley’s head, but it missed, and he was not aware it even happened. The crying girl looked in the direction of where the fire came from, but she saw nothing. Mr. Frankley kicked her in the stomach and jumped up and down on her with his wing-tipped loafers, cracking her ribs. “Never say, ‘no’, to me when I want something. Do you understand,” Mr. Frankley said. The girl nodded. Mr. Frankley left her there on the floor and went out to his car. “I’ll stay and care for the girl, get her some medical attention and call the police,” Mimi said. “You two take care of him,” she hissed. Jericho and Miguel touched fists.

They flew above Mr. Frankley’s car until he came to a stop at a warehouse on the shipping docks. They watched him peep around him to see who was watching, then turn the key and enter the building. Miguel and Jericho descended and went to the side of the building to see if they could see inside a window. No luck. The place had no windows. The murmurs of various men, women, and children could be heard. “Let’s look for a way in,” Jericho said. “I’ve got it,” Miguel replied. “Blowing a hole in the wall isn’t what I had in mind,” Jericho smiled. “We’re going to kill him anyway,” Miguel replied. What does it matter how we get inside,” he asked. “Let’s try this,” Jericho said, pulling a knife and some tweezers from his pocket. “I used to pick locks as a kid,” Jericho said. “That’s a useful talent,” Miguel replied. Moments later they were inside the building. Mr. Frankley was in an office at the back of the building. The rest of the place was filled with mattresses on the floor, linens, garment bags, garbage, empty pizza boxes, and men and women and children. All of them appeared to be Chinese. “We have to free these people,” Jericho said. Miguel opened the front door and created a mini tornado inside the room, swirling papers and furniture and people. The immigrants became frightened and ran outside the building. Miguel chased after them with bolts of lightning and fire to ensure none of them turned back. Once all of the immigrants were gone, Miguel went back inside the warehouse. Mr. Frankley was busy carving his flesh from his skin with a razor, while Jericho watched. “Don’t stop until you’ve gotten every last bit off the bones,” Jericho told Mr. Frankley. “Dude, you are twisted,” Miguel told Jericho. “Got the job done, didn’t it,” he asked.

“Matt would be proud,” Miguel said. He dropped his head to the floor and sobbed silently. “Missing your best bud is a heavy burden,” Jericho said. “We all miss Matt,” he added. “He was the only one that ever understood me,” Miguel said. “I know I’ve got a screw loose, but Matt looked past that. That’s a true friend,” Miguel added.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE OWL

“I was in room being beaten and I felt the spirit of a little girl. I could not see here, but I know she was there. When they found the bad man dead where he had been keeping us, I knew that there was a Supreme Being and guardians who watch over us,” the woman told the reporter on television. Mimi, Jericho, and Miguel sat around staring at the screen. “We’re getting some publicity,” Jericho said with cheer in his voice. “Paranormal experts examined the Frankley mansion and the warehouse where he kept imprisoned immigrants. They found no evidence of ghosts, angels, or other paranormal activity,” the anchorwoman said. “There’s just no proof that these coincidences involved any paranormal activity,” an expert on ghosts, named Opal Weldon Lugini, told the anchorwoman. “I’d like to haunt her for a couple of days and see her opinion,” Jericho said. “I don’t scare easily,” Jericho heard a woman’s voice say in his head. “Did you guys hear that,” Jericho asked aloud. “Hear what,” Miguel asked. “Nevermind,” Jericho said. “I would invite you and your friends to stop by and visit with me. You obviously have noble intentions, based on all the incidents I’ve traced to you. I have had some personal tragedies in my own life that inspire me to want to work with you. I’m at 636 East Port drive in Maine. No need to call ahead. Just stop by when you want,” Opal telepathically said to Jericho. “Yo, guys, I’m freaking out here. That paranormal woman on television just spoke to me and invited us to her place,” Jericho said. “Man, how long since you’ve been with a woman,” Miguel asked. Mimi and Miguel laughed.

Everyone remembered it differently, but they all remembered it. They were sitting watching television when a gold ring rolled across the floor and stopped in front of the television. No one said a word, but they looked at each other. Jericho went over and picked up the ring. “Matthew Broadus,” he read aloud. “It’s Matt’s ring,” Jericho said. “How and why,” Miguel asked. “Give me the ring,” Mimi said. “I can feel his force,” she said. “That’s impossible,” Jericho said. “We saw him destroyed and taken by the Soulcatchers. “He’s signaling us for some reason,” Mimi said. “What if he’s not really gone from this plane,” she asked. “If he’s still in this world, then we need to find him,” Miguel said. “Now,” he yelled. “What do you suggest Mimi,” Migueal asked. “Let’s go see that paranormal lady from television who spoke to me and see if she can help us figure out what this means,” Jericho said. “You do realize that on the other side of this, all of this could be a trick by the Tarrons, Soulcatchers, or Angels, playing on our emotions to lead us into a trap,” Mimi said. “I’m willing to take that risk for Matt,” Miguel said.

The children flew to 636 East Port drive in Maine. Jericho rapped on the door. There was no movement inside. He knocked again and waited. Within seconds, the door flew open, though no one was standing there. “Come on in, children,” the paranormal expert from the evening newscast said. “The name is Opal Weldon Lugini. People call me “Owl” for short, and you should too. The children just gawked at her without saying anything. “You can see us,” Mimi asked. “Yes, but only when wearing these special glasses that I once copped from a Soulcatcher,” she said, pointing to the thin black glasses on her face. Her hair was sandy brown, and her skin was cinnamon, but a bit pale for an African-American, like she avoided the light at all costs. She had the look of a sprite pixie ready to cause mischief. “I’m Jericho,” Jericho said. “I’m the one who you talked to inside his head,” he added. “Tends to frighten people. I hope I didn’t cause a stir for you,” Owl said. “This is Miguel, and that’s Mimi,” Jericho said, pointing to the other children. Owl shook each of their hands. “Sit down,” she said. “I was about to pour myself some pineapple juice. You’re welcome to it,” she said. The children each nodded that they would like a glass of pineapple juice. Owl poured the juice and sat down. “So, show me the ring that you want me to look at,” Owl said. “I don’t mean to be too blunt, Owl, but we hardly know you. We’ve been burned badly in the past by giving people too much trust. How do we know you’re different,” Miguel asked. “You just have to take a chance,” Owl said. “A man with your powers doesn’t thrive by playing it safe, Miguel,” she said. “What are your powers,” Miguel asked. “For that matter, what are you—human, ghost, what,” he asked. “I am what they call a para-geist. My mother was a human, and my father was a demi-geist. My powers include seeing, hearing, and communicating with the dead. Enough about me,” she asked. “The ring,” she added. Miguel placed Matt’s ring in her hand. “Such strong death vibes,” Owl said. “Is he alive,” Miguel asked. “Yes and no,” Owl said. He exists in a place between the earth and the soul world. He’s badly hurt, but his wounds are healing with each minute. My suggestion is to find him and help him back to this world. There is much about Matthew Broadus that is not known, even to you,” she said. “Can you show us how to find him? I mean, you have gifts for communicating with ghosts and such,” Jericho said. “It would be dangerous to undertake such a mission lightly,” Owl said. “How can we know that this is not a trick by the Soulcatchers, other demi-geists, Angels, or even Tarrons,” she asked. “How do you know of these things,” Miguel asked. “Most people have no clue about the spirit world,” he added. “Are you willing to use every bit of your powers, Tarron,” Owl asked Miguel. “How did you know,” he asked. “You act like a Tarron. Your powers are on the level of a Tarron, and I know that The Six are combing the earth for you,” she replied.

What are you going to do if Fozolorne shows up at the spot where you can find Matt,” Owl asked. “Fozolorne exists no more,” Miguel said. “I destroyed him and incinerated his soul,” he added. “Fozolorne is a Tarron, Miguel,” Owl said. He is over two-hundred years old. Do you think he has not mastered his powers? You can never truly destroy a Tarron—they are immortal. Mark my words, Fozolorne is out there, recovering, too tired to fight right now, but filled with vengeance. Most of all, he has a dream to be reunited with his wife and spend eternity with her. Be careful, is all I’m saying,” Owl said. “We want to find our teammate and bring him back wit us,” Miguel said. “You can help us, or we can go it alone. It’s your choice,” Miguel said. “Just know that I refuse to fail, am very vengeful, and always settle the score with those who need it,” he added. “Is that a threat,” Owl asked. “You threaten me because I’m hesitant to use my powers to stir-up the spirits out there who do horrible things every day and can make the worst enemies,” she asked. “Yes, I’m threatening you,” Miguel said. “You either help us, or we can end this association right now,” he added.

Owl lit three black candles and sat them on the table next to the sofa. She sat still for a long time and mouthed words to herself. “Is she in a trance,” Jericho asked. “Whatever she’s doing, the outcome better be that she will lead us to Matt,” Miguel said. Owl opened her left eye and looked at Miguel. “When I was a child, my Mother used to discourage the use of my gifts. She wanted a “normal” child, not one who could communicate with the spirit world. My Father was the opposite. He secretly had many training sessions with me, teaching me how to use my powers. My Father was a special man. When he was destroyed in the last battle between Tarrons and Angels, my Mother became a shell of herself. She shut down. She withered away. I used to tell her things that my Father asked me to relay to her. Even after his destruction, we still talked very often. My Father never spoke of it, refused to answer my questions, and discouraged any poking around, but I’m certain that Fozolorne had a hand in his demise. You children have no clue what Fozolorne is really like. He’s pure evil. He’s sinister. He worships darkness,” Owl said. “I thought the Supreme One made a deal with Fozolorne to reunite him with his wife, Magda, in exchange for keeping Miguel away from the Tarrons,” Jericho said. “That is what Fozolorne wants everyone to believe. He did, in fact, make a deal with the Supreme One to reunite with his wife in exchange for insuring that Miguel never assumes leadership of the Tarrons; however, it was not the upper Supreme One with whom he made the deal. It was the lower Supreme One—the bringer of chaos, pain, torment, and evil. Fozolorne does indeed wish to keep Miguel from the Tarrons—by eliminating him. You see, Fozolorne has regretted betraying the Tarrons all those years ago. The only thing he wants as much as his dear Magda is to return to leadership of the Tarrons,” Owl said. “But, why would the Tarrons ever let him rule again,” Jericho asked. “Fozolorne’s mistake—betraying the Tarrons—is not something the Tarrons dwell on. Their only thoughts are of how to get stronger, how to find a leader, and how to overtake this world and enslave the spirits, humans, beasts, and others. The Tarrons were a terrible force under Fozolorne’s leadership. For the chance to rule over this world, they would gladly take Fozolorne back,” Owl said. “How do you know these things,” Mimi asked. “My kind is very interactive with the spirit world. There are many like me. We make it our business to know what’s going on out there. I have no reason to lie, no agenda, and no goals—unless you count vengeance on Fozolorne for what he did to my Father and my family,” Owl smiled.