Excerpt

Marcus could feel his wings working with the wind as he laughed joyously. He knew traffic would begin getting heavy in a short time, and he marveled at not being stuck in a small, metal box on wheels with its stifling air and its idling motor, surrounded by others in similar small boxes. Having wings definitely has its advantages.

Marcus could not remember the last time he allowed himself to stretch his wings. He wondered at the way their rainbow colors caught the sun and sent the reflected light onto the windshields of the cars below. He was no longer trailing behind in the beginnings of dreaded gridlock but soaring free in the light above. His black skin and dark clothing made it impossible for others to discern his features when they saw him against the sun, especially when people focused on the multiple colors in his glorious wings. Marcus stretched his wings to their full span and glided, sure that anybody who looked up and saw his silhouette against the sun would believe the military was working on a new mutant breed of carrier pigeon to drop large bombs on unsuspecting enemies. The thought made Marcus laugh to himself.

Marcus knew attracting attention in this way was strictly forbidden but he had been grounded long enough and missed too many morning displays. The rising sun was an impressive array of colors at ground level but it was absolutely breathtaking when seen from above the cloud cover away from the lights of Chicago. When he unfolded his wings, he felt invincible. He felt like a great gift of life, love and warmth was given to him.

Watching the sun come up over the horizon at this altitude was meditation for Marcus. For him, this was better than a cold shower and a strong cup of coffee. With his mind and body soaring, Marcus could not only see God’s splendor in every color, he could feel it from deep within himself. Every beam of light and every shimmering swatch of color was a physical sensation - more so than anything that could be felt from earth.

As he soared east toward the waking city, Marcus could make out the reds and oranges dancing together in a display of sunrise fireworks that pierced through the darkness, bringing a renewed faith to the world and chasing the nighttime into retreat once again. He felt the warmth of the colors course through him and he felt the joy deep inside his very soul. This was the quiet time. The hour before everything was turned upside down by morning rush hour. The time when people could forget their world and just enjoy God’s beauty. This was the magic time.

Marcus flew down to building level as soon as he entered Chicago. While other commuters were still struggling, making their way along Lakeshore Drive, Marcus had turned the commute into a half-hour pleasure trip. Marcus laughed as he thought of the hundreds of businessmen and blue-collar workers cursing each other while they listened to the WLS traffic report in a vain attempt to shave an extra two minutes off their travel. He had almost forgotten how much nicer and more exhilarating it was to be able to fly in and land in the courtyard leaving others to fight over the best parking spaces on the streets or in the parking garages.

Since Marcus had entered the city several minutes ahead of schedule, he was on his third tour of the downtown area when a vision stopped him dead in mid-flight. Impossibly, a pair of enormous silver wings blocked his path. Marcus couldn’t remember meeting another who had been given the gift of flight. He thought he was the only one… until now.

The other man’s wings were resplendent in white and silver but other than his skin color, he wasn’t much different from Marcus… although Marcus had a strange feeling he had been flying a lot longer. He was much more skilled and his flight was effortless. And for some reason, Marcus became frightened looking directly at his splendor.

The man’s voice was soothing when he finally spoke his name. “Marcus,” the man finally said. The depth and emotion in his voice made Marcus forget the sprawling city below him. “I need your assistance.”

As Marcus stared at him, the angel’s features slowly began to coalesce. He could see graying hair at the temples and a face that was stern yet seemed to hold an internal, calming smile. He radiated a trust and a confidence which set off several alarms in Marcus’ head.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling.”

Marcus was hoping his near rudeness would throw the being off for just a moment, giving him enough time to move on. Instead, the silver being seemed to grow before Marcus’ eyes. He spread his wings outward, expanding them until they were double the size of Marcus’. The translucent colors that radiated from the silver of his wings, casting billions of hues upon the skies made Marcus envy him, for even Marcus could not take in all of the colors at once. And as the being spoke, he lifted his face toward Heaven and the air was filled with static electricity. Marcus could only imagine this was a true angel.

“You will know who I am soon enough, Marcus Shell.” He tilted his head down and looked directly at Marcus with black, soulless eyes. He radiated such power that Marcus’ breath caught in his throat. He was cold. His body seemed stunned by the power of the being in front of him. While there was no humanity behind his eyes, his life force exuded such powerful energy that it seemed to pierce through Marcus’ very being. Marcus was paralyzed with fear as the being spoke again. “You are now part of the salvation.”

Marcus felt the scream of terror build from deep within him until it ripped out of his throat…