The Jake Helman Files Personal Demons (34 page)

BOOK: The Jake Helman Files Personal Demons
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In the blink of an eye, the blond cowboy had returned. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Jake looked down at the white hat in Abel’s hands. “So you’re one of the good guys?”

Abel shrugged. “I like to think so.”

“Are you my guardian angel?”

“More like an observer. In the Realm of Light, we take a strict vow of noninterference regarding this world.”

Like the Federation on Star Trek
, Jake thought.

“Exactly.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “You just read my mind!”

“Sorry, it’s a habit. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.” Abel looked out the windshield. “You have to return this car and report to the Tower.”

Staring at Abel, Jake holstered his Glock, inserted the key into the ignition, and started the car’s engine. “Your brother didn’t read my mind. He tortured me to get what he wanted.” Shifting the car into gear, he pulled out of the parking space. His left hand hurt too much to steer, so he rested it on his lap.

“My brother is the chief emissary for the Dark Realm. He’s a being of negative energy, whereas I’m a being of positive energy. His abilities are limited by his lack of intellect and patience. He didn’t read your thoughts because he’s insensitive. He prefers torture and intimidation over understanding and negotiation.”

Jake stopped at a red light. “He crushed the skulls of two of my men yesterday morning. That’s not exactly my idea of noninterference.”

“Those in the Dark Realm disregard the laws that we in the Realm of Light hold dear. But they have their own rules, and Cain can only claim souls that have already been tainted beyond repair.”

Recalling the guards’ military records, Jake made a left turn and steered the Jetta west, across town. “He said I’m going to hell. Does that mean he can claim my soul before I die?”

“It’s his nature to lie. He just wanted to frighten you.”

Just thinking about the industrial dungeon made Jake shudder. “He succeeded.”

“The scales haven’t tipped conclusively one way or the other regarding your ultimate destination, but your fate is questionable. That was nasty business you committed today, but there’s still time to redeem yourself.”

Jake shrugged. “‘An eye for an eye’, right? That’s what the Old Testament preaches, anyway. The New Testament doesn’t leave much room for justice.”

Abel studied Jake. “Is justice important to you?”

“It’s why I became a cop.”

Abel aimed his eyes forward. “Gorman will spend eternity in the Dark Realm. His suffering has already begun.”

Jake considered this. “Good.” He made another left turn and they circled the block. “So why are you honoring me with ‘face time’ when I’m knee-deep in all this shit? And why are you being so forthcoming with me? Right now I know more about the afterlife now than the pope does.”

Abel spoke in a deliberate tone. “Every soul in the Realms of Light and Darkness began its journey here on Earth, which we call Eden. Think of yourself as a caterpillar waiting to evolve into a higher life form. The Realms have been at war since the creation of mankind. Each side’s strength is determined by its energy level, or the number of souls that make it up. Since the dawn of man, the Light has held the Dark at bay. Now, a fierce battle is being fought that could turn the tide of the war in the Dark’s favor.”

“Sounds grim,” Jake said.

“Apocalyptic, is more like it. The outcome of this battle may determine the fate of every soul in existence, on Earth and beyond. There’s always been a delicate balance of power between the Realms, with the Light holding the edge. If that balance changes, the Dark will subject us all to eternal torment. The shift of power is occurring even as we speak, all because thirteen souls bound for the Realm of Light never reached their destination.”

Jake gripped the steering wheel. “The Soul Chamber…”

“Tower’s held some of these souls hostage for as long as a year. They must be liberated. The potential for catastrophe increases with each passing hour. And you’ve just given the other side a new warrior.”

A sick feeling grew in Jake’s stomach.
The Cipher
. “So what are you doing about it?”

“The same defensive shield that prevents Cain from entering the Tower hinders my kind as well.”

“Your brother wants me to get him into the Tower so that he can get his hands on the old man.”

“The Dark needs reinforcements as badly as we do and Tower’s soul is strong.”

“When I break the spell for him, can you free all of those souls?”

“I already told you: we don’t interfere.”

Jake snorted. “It seems to me that the possible destruction of heaven warrants an exception to the rule.”

“We must remain true to our ideals. If we weaken in our resolve, if we sell out our values, we’ll be unable to withstand the onslaught of our enemies.”

“Are you telling me that none of you higher-ups are ‘positive’ enough to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good? You’re as hypocritical as some of the so-called holy men and political leaders in this world.”

“And you’re willing to damn your own soul by allying yourself with my brother to free Sheryl’s soul.”

“Some things are worth going to hell for.”

“You’ll only serve to strengthen the Dark.”

“And you want me to serve you instead by doing your dirty work.”

“You wish to strike against Tower anyway.”

Jake glanced sideways at the being. “Not if it means risking Sheryl’s freedom.”

“We’re as concerned for her as you are. We just want you to realize that each of those souls is equally important in the grand scheme.”

“And what are you offering me to risk my life?”

“Nothing. We don’t barter. But you stand to lose as much as everyone else does. You just don’t understand how severe your loss will be. In all likelihood, you’ll be killed if you help us. But if you sacrifice yourself to free those souls, you might earn a place for yourself in the Realm of Light.”

Jake pulled the Jetta over and double-parked it. “‘Might?’ That’s it? If I die helping you,
I might get
a parking space on Cloud Nine, which may not even exist much longer? You’re asking a lot.”

“We have faith in you.”

“Fat lot of good that will do me. I’ve been jammed up before, but this is the first time I’ve been caught between heaven and hell.”

“That’s what you think.”

“No, this is what I think: if you can’t help me, then I don’t need you. And if I don’t need you, I’m not risking my ass for your precious souls. I’m in this for Sheryl and Sheryl alone.”

“Forgive me, but you don’t know what you’re saying.” “Oh, yes, I do. You’re worthless to me, you understand? At least Cain offered me something in return for my trouble.”

“He’ll betray you. It’s his nature.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that? My mother died giving birth to me. My father blew his brains out. The aunt who raised me died from an ‘accidental’ overdose of antidepressants. The Cipher murdered Sheryl. Where were your people any of those times?”

“We’ve sworn—”

“I know, I know: ‘a strict vow of noninterference.’ What are you wasting my time for? I don’t need this shit. I’ll handle things my own way.”

Abel stared at him. “If you don’t mind my saying so, that hasn’t worked out very well for you in the past.”

“I’ve gotten smarter. Get out of the car.”

Abel put on his Stetson and offered a friendly smile. “Good luck.”

“Enjoy the show.” Jake felt a warm tingling sensation in his head, and Abel disappeared without a trace, as if he had never been there.

Out of mind, out of sight

32

A
fter returning the Jetta to the rental agency, Jake ate at Dante’s, an Italian restaurant on Second Avenue he and Sheryl had frequented. He ordered a bottle of their finest red wine, enjoyed a single glass before his dinner arrived, and set the bottle aside. He sipped a second glass with his dinner—linguini with red clam sauce—then took a cab downtown. His watch showed 7:48 when he reached the Tower, which appeared deserted. The protesters and all but two police officers had left, and now that the drought had ended, the illuminated fountains in front of the building rose five feet into the air. With just over two hours remaining before his deadline, Jake felt jittery as he glanced at the inky black sky.

Pulaski and an Indian guard named Badeseo guarded the private lobby. Jake had read Bada Badeseo’s file, and he recalled that the man had been a cop in Guyana. Graham sat at his security station on Sixty, exactly where Jake had left him eleven hours earlier. The exhausted-looking man nursed a cup of coffee, and his bulging eyes suggested that he had already consumed a gallon.

“Don’t you ever go home?” Jake said as he entered the security bay.

Graham shook his head. “It’s been a hectic day. The old man had some kind of medical emergency. His doctors have been going in and out since 10:30 this morning.”

Jake raised his eyebrows. “Is he okay?” He needed Tower alive.

Graham shrugged. “As far as I know.”

“Where’s Kira?”

“Except for one meeting with Russel and some of his people, she’s been with Old Nick all day.”

“She give you any grief about me taking the day off?”

Shaking his head, Graham handed Jake a fresh walkie-talkie. “She didn’t even seem surprised.”

I’ll bet
, Jake thought, sliding the walkie-talkie into his coat pocket.

Graham set a new cell phone on top of the monitor nearest Jake. “This is for you.”

Jake examined the device and pocketed it. “Thanks.” He retrieved the framed photo of Sheryl from his office and went to his unit.

Dressed in silk pajamas, suede slippers, and a velvet robe, Tower sat in a wheelchair at his office desk, the Anting-Anting around his neck. He took a hit from his portable oxygen tank as he gazed at the monitors before him. “There goes Helman.”

Kira nodded. “I told you he’d be back. His wife is his greatest weakness.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost eight o’clock.”

“Is the Soul Catcher dead?”

“I’m sure everything’s been taken care of.”

He squeezed the Anting-Anting with gnarled fingers. “Take me to the Garden.”

8:42 p.m.

Jake disinfected his swollen hand and changed its bandage. The bleeding had stopped, and he just hoped he had not suffered any nerve damage. He needed stitches on both sides of the hand, but that had to wait. He packed his clothes into his suitcase and lit a final cigarette.

8:57 p.m.

Yawning, Pulaski stretched at the security station console in the private lobby. Christ, he hated working weekends. He loved the overtime pay, but he had trouble dealing with the boredom factor. He stared at the monitors, their images as still as photographs. Occasionally he glanced out the doors, but the lack of traffic or pedestrians made him sleepy. Silence ruled the Tower.

“Why don’t you let me sit down for a while?” Badeseo said from beside him. “I’ve been standing since we started.”

“Fuck you. I’ve got seniority.”

“Very good. One day I will have seniority, too.”

“Don’t count on it, Gunga Din.”

Badeseo ignored the remark. Outside the glass doors, faces with blank stares appeared in the darkness, drifting closer. “We have visitors.”

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