Purgatorium (59 page)

My reflection returns to normal. I put the flask in my pocket and lower my head down trying to figure out what I should do.
Barachiel
hands me the picture of Madi. “Keep this in mind, it’s the time you spend, not the moments you regret,”
Barachiel
says, pressing the elevator button.

“You may have not been praying for yourself but I have. Praying that God will save you from this place. Believe it or not, God has already answered my prayers. God will save you because God has given you the courage to save yourself.”

His green eyes stay with mine, not giving me any chance to look away. I nod towards him to amuse his theory.

The doors open. I look in and see Jehudiel is no longer lying there.
Where did he go?
I wonder.

Stephanie shouts, “And so what if they are really fast and know how to fight really well! They haven’t seen my moves yet!” She throws some punches and kicks up in the air, then looks over at me and smiles encouragingly.

I walk in and look at both of them staring at me with confidence that I still don’t see in myself. Deep down, they know I am not ready either. The door closes.

I stand in the elevator, looking at the painting. I form in my mind a thought. A thought fixated on one truth. The truth that I haven’t been praying. Not knowing or if believing they would even be answered. All this time, thinking the angels have come to save me is now another fictional tale that forces me from what I should believe in. Demons are real, my sins are real, and I am alone in this.

I lay my hand on the canvas, touching its lighted center, the cross, watching the demons tear it apart. Time goes by as I can hear the the elevator door open behind me, letting me know I am on my floor. But I do not move. I am still, my eyes focused on a painting that I never really understood. Never got its real meaning. Never questioned its central motives. Not wanting to hear what it was trying to say. I just played the part of the viewer. Ignorant in believing it was something more than just a painting, until now.

The cross’ light from the painting sinks into me. That glowing center piece transfigures into me. My eyes are wide open. My body feels warm. My mind is clear. My soul can hear it speak to me. The story it conveys brings me not sadness but courage. I am in awe from its beauty. In the back of my head, I come to a realization that Barachiel is right. Maybe it’s time I start believing in myself for once.

Cold air releases from my breath. I blink, letting me adjust back to reality. Moving away from the portrait, I look around, feeling awake. Almost as if I have been in a mystical dream this whole time. I walk out of the elevator and the cold air finally registers in my head.

For how long was I in a daze?

I quickly scamper to my door, putting my hand on my doorknob and pushing it open.

The whole room looks like a wintry wonderland. Everything from the chandelier to the piano is covered in ice. The ceiling drips with snow particles making their way down to greet me. I walk, moving silently on the iced-over ground. The night sky peering out of my glass windows brings an enchanting view to my snowy living room space.

I am curious as to why I don’t see any reapers, but erase the thought, hoping they went after Jehudiel instead. I just need to get into my bed and I will be in the safe zone.

I turn the corner to my bedroom and also see that everything has been frozen. I look over at my now frozen alarm clock: 58:52. I barely made it, I think with hope.

I examine the room and notice the hourglass reflecting off the window. I look over to my wall where my blueprints are located, remembering the 8 pictures Michael took.

8 pictures, 8 flaws, 8 hourglasses, I think to myself.

I grab my logbook from the desk, flipping to the end, finding where I wrote that I had 9 hourglasses that I needed to break. This is the one hourglass that Michael didn’t take a picture of. I must have kept it from them. But how have they never seen it before?

I remember only seeing it in the nighttime but never the daytime. Suddenly I think of the answer. It’s the last hourglass that needs to be broken. It makes perfect sense. Why would the roof’s hourglass be the last one when I still have one more stop before I have to get in…

Then it hits me. The bed is the last time zone.

I breathe out cold air. Knowing what awaits me, I turn. A reaper is standing before my door. I look to my bed, ready to jump, when it swiftly grabs the mattress and throws it straight towards me.

I leap out of the way as my mattress rushes past me, flying out the window, leaving me exposed. I look at my bedside table, see a pen, and snatch it. I jump, grab the reaper’s hood, pull it off, and stab the pen into the reaper’s skull. The reaper drops to the floor, melting the ice below. I run to the broken window and see reapers flying up towards me.

I look around, trying to figure out how to not let the reapers pick up my heat signature. Glancing down, I see the ground freezing over again, ice getting closer to my feet. I back up away from it, but the ice is soon coming from the living room doorway, spreading towards the bathroom. I keep backing up, into the kitchen, until my back hits the refrigerator.

Startled, I look behind me. Suddenly, I have an idea of what to do. If I am cold, they won’t read my heat signature! I try to pull open the freezer door but it is still frozen from earlier. I look back over to see the ice is continuing to make its way towards me. I pull harder on the handle and hear the ice breaking from inside. The door releases from its frozen hold and I sweep everything out of it onto the floor.

Quickly, I climb inside the freezer, shutting the door just as reapers enter. Ice freezes over the refrigerator closing me in. Curled up in a ball in the freezer, I listen, careful not to make any noise. I hear the reapers searching, shrieking to each other in the living room. Then closer, in the kitchen, and then back in the living room.

Finally, after what seems like a few seconds, I hear them leave. Silence. I put my feet up against the inside of the freezer door and push. It doesn’t budge. I push again, mustering all my strength. I start to shiver. I try pushing again and this time hear a slight cracking sound. A tiny bit of light comes in through the millimeter opening I created. I push as hard as I can, but it won’t open.

Knowing that I only have to wait until the clock turns 60:00, I decide to just give up.
Go big or go home?
I repeat to myself. I am just not ready. The truth is, with my family gone and nothing to go back to, I don’t think I will ever be ready.

I look through the crack
outside the freezer. Back in my bedroom, the frozen-over clock on the bedside table counts up: 59:58, 59:58, 60:00.

The car lies upside down. I am sprawled out in the snow beside it. I slowly turn my aching head to the right and see a pop singer’s face on the billboard, then the metal girders of the bridge. I turn my head back toward the car. Madi is inside pressed against the roof. I notice that her eyes are open, looking towards me. I see a tear fall from her eye streaking through the blood on her face.

I try to speak. I can hear my weak voice calling to her. “Madi? Madi? Please, Madi, hold on!”

I feel an instant wave of heat rush over my body. My face feels like it’s gonna melt off any moment now.
Why does this keep happening?
I think.

I hear something moving through the air above me. I tilt my head back and look up. The V
alkyrie
! Suddenly, everything is silent. The Valkyrie floats in above me. Snow falls slowly between us.

“Why can’t they live?”I cry out.

The V
alkyrie
glares at me. “You can’t change it. What’s done is done.” It floats slowly to the side of the car and looks inside.

“Get away from them!” I scream. I use all my strength trying to drag my broken body closer to Madi and Anna. I see Anna in the backseat with shards of glass all over her.

“Take my life, not theirs,” I plead. “I
beg
you. Take mine! It’s not their time! Please!” The Valkyrie looks back at me and floats over to the back of the car.

I continue to yell at it, “This was all my fault!” It picks something dark and round up from the snow. As the Valkyrie floats toward me, I see something in its hands. I look closer. It’s Anna’s snow globe. I see that it’s broken.

The Valkyrie winds up the bottom as I hear the music starting to play. It brings it over to me and puts the snow globe in my hand. I look down at it, tearing up. I wish I could just take it all back. Looking up, I see the Valkyrie is now gone. I feel my body beginning to oddly cool back down.

I can’t hold my head up any longer. I let it rest on the ground for a moment and close my eyes. When I open them again, my vision is blurred and hazy. I hear a car driving up from behind. It pulls around my car and stops. I see it hazily but can tell its front end is damaged.

That’s the car that hit me, I think. I hear a few men and a female laughing inside the car. I hear a door open and someone walking out. I see a pair of men’s shoes and pant legs in front of me. The man steps closer to the car and looks in.

I close my eyes and after a few seconds, I peek to see what he looks like. He looks just like Barachiel, I think. He steps back and drops something into the snow next to me. I hear the door shut and the car driving away. I tilt my head forward, trying to focus on what the man dropped into the snow.

Slowly it comes into better focus: a Jack of hearts card. My mind races with questions as I soon discover the only truth. It was them, I think, referring back to the private casino table. I remember not getting the card back and watching the dealer’s hands scoop all my cards up. They found the extra card, I think as I stare at the heart around the card.

I remove myself from that moment and start to think in the reality of the situation. How did they even find me, anyway? It’s been at least a month since that night. I take a few seconds and realize the one person I forgot. “Lisa! She did take my driver’s license. Stupid! Why did I not think about that? She knows where I live. She could have easily...”

I suddenly notice something written on the back of the card. I pick it up and read what it says. “Cheaters always cheat and liars always lie.” My face goes white as I let go of the card. It slowly makes its way back down to the snow where it rests.

Before I can think, I see that stuck on the windshield is Madi’s tag which reads: PETER310. I think to myself, not 310 but 3:10. My vision blurs even more and I feel myself starting to slip into unconsciousness. Everything fades to black. I suddenly hear something faint calling out to me in the darkness. “Daddy?” I think of Anna as I hear an alarm clock ringing.

SATURDAY

Gambit

I wake up. I am in my bed. I lift my body up and look over to find my Handbook back on my nightstand. Next to it lies my snow globe. I take hold of it with only one glimmering thought that passes through my mind
. She is alive. Anna, I think. Anna is still alive. Tears run down my cheek with that single thought alone. I wipe them away, remembering that today is the eve to my rapture.

I sit up and bring my feet to the floor. I stumble at first, dizzy from getting up too fast. The clock is counting up the seconds. I walk over to the window. Everything is as it was at the beginning of my time here. Dead trees and grass, gloomy sky, like an apocalypse. I see my reflection in the mirror looking at me. My hair has grown even longer and my body thinner.

Still holding onto the snow globe, I bring it up to watch the flakes fall around the snowed-over city. Thinking of Anna, I remember when I gave this to her. Placed it in her tiny hands. Now those hands have probably grown into a woman’s. My little girl is all grown up. She was my beginning and end. She still IS my beginning and end.

The running of the race today instead of tomorrow starts to once again worry me, leaving me with thoughts of failure and doubt.

I look over to the handbook sitting by my bed and I remember what Barachiel said last night.

Let today be your Genesis, tomorrow your Exodus.

Battling my thoughts on what I should do, tires me to one conclusion.

At least it’s a good day for a run.

I put down the snow globe and walk over to my wall with my blueprint of the whole town pinned to it. I look at each Polaroid picture Michael took of where the hourglasses are located and begin strategizing.

I need to break each hourglass before the five minute mark in each of the areas. I must break each one before the sand runs out.

I gaze at each mark I must hit and at what time I need to hit them. I get to the subway station on the map and see 42:02 problem written on it.

My only shot would be to enter the tree again, though I don’t know where it will spit me back out when it’s all over. One time it was the meat locker, then next was Stephanie’s apartment. It seems to be random but it is a risk I will just have to take. Better than the reapers getting hold of me.

I follow the blueprint to the rooftop and see the words ‘Finish Line’ written over it. But really the finish line would be in my bedroom with the last hourglass. Once the hourglasses have all been broken, then all that is left is to head for the elevator and give it my token, which if I am correct, is my name. It should then somehow lead me back home.

I stop for a minute and think about the word ‘home’ and how good that sounded in my head. If I make one mistake today, then that is it. The reapers would erase my memories and I will wake one last day just to die by the end of it. My new home will be my hell.

The music from the piano starts to play. I look over at the clock as it reads 3:10. I suddenly remember Madi’s car’s license plate: PETER310.

I hurriedly walk to the bedside table and pick up the Handbook. I quickly flip through it and find Madi’s favorite verse, then head over to the bathroom mirror to read it out loud. “Peter 3:10, ‘Do you want to love life and see good days? Then keep your tongues from speaking evil. Turn away from evil and do good. Look for peace, and go after it.’”

I look up at the bathroom mirror and see my beard is no more, my hair is clean-cut, and my body looks to be back in perfect shape. I can do this, I think to myself. I hear the music still playing on the piano and decide it’s time to change this depressing tune. I walk back to the blueprints and pull off the mix tape. I stick it into my stereo and press play. I turn the volume to its highest, hoping the reapers can somewhere hear my fight song. ‘The Carol of Bells’ blasts out through the speakers.

I go to my closet, pick out my same suit, and begin putting it on. First the dress shirt, then the pants. Looking in the mirror, I begin tying my tie, making every swoop and pulling it tight around my neck. I then take my vest and button it up, leaving the jacket on the hook, knowing it will only add on more weight. I grab my cleats and put them on my feet, tying each one in a knot.

I pause as I gaze at the Jack of hearts mask, lying in the drawer. I take it out and look at it, thinking back to my dream—the card.The accident was no mere accident, I conclude. They are the ones responsible for me being here, I think as a rage overcomes me. I put the mask over my face and my Jack of hearts card in my upper vest pocket, adjusting it so it is popping out. I grab Michael’s poncho and wrap it around my neck like a scarf.

I head into the kitchen, swing out the drawers, and look inside to find my artillery. I take each knife I grab and duct tape them around a good surface of my body. I wrap one around each of my legs, another set to my shoulders, and across my chest and back. I draw the poncho over them, concealing the weapons from enemy sight.

Walking out into the living room, I open the glass case and take the
hatchet
out. I look at the perfect condition of the sharp edge of the blade and the hammer head on the other side of it. I grip the handle to the hatchet hard in my right hand. I take the leftover duct tape and wrap it around my right hand, sealing the weapon in tight. I do a couple swings in the air to make sure the tape will hold.

I look at my wooden table next to me, raise my right hand high, and strike down hard with the hatchet. On impact, the wood splits and splinters. The tape stays tight around my right hand. I gaze back at the wooden table’s imperfections and think of my father.

I walk back into the bathroom. Seeing that the
hourglass
is about to run out, I quickly grab my straight razor from the side of the sink.

I
fold the blade in and tape it around my ankle. I look up, raise my right hand, and place it on the mirror, bowing my head. Making a fist, I think,
For me and my family
.

I look back up, pull my right arm back, and slingshot my fist into the mirror, smashing it, along with the hourglass inside of it. At that moment, I could hear the bass chorus coming from the music getting louder.

“Hark how the bells, (Hark how the bells), Sweet silver bells, All seem to say, (All seem to say), Throw cares away (Throw cares away).”

I hear reapers shrieking from a distance away as I walk into the living room. I look out the window and see the snow now falling, letting me know they are almost here. I walk to my front door and pull it open.

Stephanie opens her door and looks at me with confident eyes. She walks out and hands me my butterfly knife. I nod to her and look to the right of the hallway at the elevators.

“(Bringing good cheer, oh) Oh how they pound, (Oh how they pound), Raising the sound, O’er hill and dale, Telling their tale (Telling their tale).”

Ice creeps toward us to the right on the hallway floor, slowly freezing over the elevator. I grip the
hatchet
in my right hand. There is a loud shriek from the left end of the hallway.

“Gaily they ring, While people sing, Songs of good cheer, Christmas is here.”

I flip my butterfly knife around in my left hand, turning my head towards the noise. Stephanie walks back in her room and nods to me.

I walk down the hallway and four reapers come around the corner flying toward me. I quickly flip the knife in and out to reassure myself. I loosen my grip slightly on the
hatchet
and exhale the cold air out from my mouth.

My heart is pounding erratically with every step I take towards the reapers. The coldness brushes up against my skin, forcing my body to shake. I hold my ground, puffing my chest out, not giving them the satisfaction of getting the best of me so soon.

I hear the music fading away as my hand grips the
hatchet
tightly. I walk faster toward the reapers. Everything around me seems to have slowed down, almost to a standstill. Frost creeps over the entire hallway around me, freezing over the doors and windows as well.

I feel something new come over me. A rush of energy flows throughout my body. My mind is instantly clear of any fear or doubt and replaced with new hidden knowledge. My eyes are now focused on the view of my surroundings. They show me the outstretched, thin, and narrow hallway with an exit window towards the end.

Immediately, my soul feels like it’s engulfed in flames, unlocking an undiscovered strength within me. My legs burn with the intent of not wanting to walk any longer. I lift my right leg up and kick off with my left. My stride is long and my calves are tight. I sprint full speed ahead, step up on the wall to my right, push off of it, and lung midair towards a reaper.

I quickly pull its hood back with the edge of my hatchet and jab my knife into its skull. I rip off the other reaper’s hood and bring my
hatchet
down through its skull. Two more reapers come toward me. I jump up, turning 180 degrees, and backhand stab the skull of one, then, still spinning, swing the hatchet into the face of the other.

Another reaper comes around the corner, shrieking violently. I step up on the left wall, spin, and whip the
hatchet
through its neck. Its head goes spinning across the icy floor.

Behind me, I see four more reapers coming out of the iced-over elevator. I turn away and sprint toward one of the iced-over hallway windows, jump up and, slamming my hatchet through the ice and glass, burst through it into the outside air.

5 Minutes

I smash through the window of my apartment building and can see the snow flurries getting heavier in the atmosphere. Reapers flying up to the window shriek and turn their heads as I fall towards them. I reach out and grab hold of a reaper’s hood. Surreally, a huge, frozen slide flows out of the bottom of the reaper’s cloak. I let go of the hood and touch my feet down on the icy slide.

I start slipping towards the frigid tail end of its frozen horizontal grid. The spikes from my shoes catch the climate change quickly. I push down, digging my cleats in to slow myself down. The reaper turns and flies down toward the street, trying to get away from me. I hold on for dear life behind it on the frozen slide emanating from the bottom of its cloak. The reaper looks behind and sees me tagging along for the ride.

I feel the reaper is slowing down. The frozen grid begins to break off and starts plummeting to the bottom. I push off of it, jumping toward the reaper below. I flip out my knife. The reaper extends its hand back toward me. I swing my arm, slicing the reaper’s arm off.

Now in free fall, I kick my foot into the reaper’s skull, propelling myself toward another descending reaper, and land on the ice slide forming from its cloak. The reaper, seeing me, flies up and then down again, making two icy loops. It stops at the bottom of the second loop and waits.

Seeing what the reaper has now done, I sprint down the first loop, then up and down, then through the second 360 degree loop. My mask goes flying off in midair. I pick up speed as I run directly for the reaper.

Nearly at the reaper now, I jump up, meeting it head on. I pull the reaper’s hood down and stab it in its skull. The butterfly knife goes midway through its skull and gets lodged in. I leap off as the reaper flies away with the knife still jammed in its skull.

I touch down on the streets below. Turning my head, I am happy to see my car parked across the street. I sprint towards my BMW i8 as I look up to find more reapers making their way towards me.

I open the door and get in, accelerating as fast as the engine allows. Reapers appear behind the car. Their legs hit the asphalt and it freezes over. Cars all around me lose their grip, sliding and smashing into each other.

I jerk the wheel right and then left, barely missing them. I board the on-ramp and speed onto the interstate, reapers now catching up with me. The reapers freeze over the truck carrying the glass windows. The truck loses control and pulls the emergency brake. The truck-shaped ice build-up breaks loose from the truck, sending it sliding sideways toward my car.

From behind, a reaper’s hand touches my car, slowly freezing it over. Ice fills in the driver’s seat. The car starts spinning out of control. My hands start to freeze over. I pull them back from the steering wheel. My left arm is almost completely frozen solid. Looking out from my spinning car, I see the icy build-up from the truck sliding across toward me. Behind the ice, I can see the truck whose glass reflects the
hourglass
.