The squad car sat about thirty feet away, but seemed thirty miles away. He wished now he would’ve parked next to the steps. But for some reason he parked at a distance in the circle drive.
Barrett gathered his legs underneath him and pushed up with his hands. With great effort he made it to all fours. I can do this, he thought. Holding his stomach, he stood to his feet and lurched forward like a drunken sailor. His head swam. The ground and sky spun crazily. He lost his balance and toppled over, sprawling out onto his left side and shoulder.
The light intensified even more. He didn’t understand the luminescence at all. The puzzling light shone too intensely to be a mere porch light or street light. And the light appeared brightest near the squad car.
As his life faded, breathing became more difficult. His lungs functioned at only a small percentage. And like a butterfly leaving a cocoon, he felt like he was detaching from the inside out. Maybe I do have a soul. And it’s trying to leave my body.
Barrett tilted his head and stared at his squad car. For the first time he could see something glittering inside the light. A form almost humanlike stood in the light near his car.
Barrett opened his mouth. A strangled cry escaped his throat. What he saw didn’t reside on earth. His bulging eyes witnessed something supernatural. The word, “angel,” popped into his mind.
If angels existed, then there must be a God and a heaven. And if there were angels, there must also be demons and Satan, which meant a hell, terrible and gruesome, also existed somewhere.
Barrett closed his eyes and reopened them, hoping the angelic being might have departed. But the angel hadn’t left his post by the squad car. And his tall form grew more distinct within the light. He towered over the vehicle. Barrett could see the angel wore a blinding white garment. The angel looked directly at Barrett; his beautiful blue eyes didn’t blink.
He’s here for me, Barrett thought. He’s going to take me somewhere. And yet the death angel didn’t move. He stood resolutely by the squad car and waited…waited for Barrett to come to him.
Barrett found his lips moving. Words tumbled out his mouth in a rush, his voice hoarse and wet with blood. “God, have mercy on me. I know you sent this angel to take me from earth. I deserve hell. I truly do. I’m rotten to the core. But I pray you will forgive all my sins and let me live with you and your son. I don’t need a mansion; just a small room will be fine.”
Barrett tried to stand again but couldn’t make it to his feet. His depleted strength quavered. His legs had turned to jelly. But he didn’t give up and struggled forward. Barrett didn’t want the angel to come and take him away. He figured the angel waited for a specific moment or event to happen, and when the moment came the angel would leave his post and escort him into the afterlife.
So he crawled army-style, inching ever closer to the squad car. God, if you would grant me just one wish, please let me stay alive long enough to make it to my car and call in. I finally want to do my duty. I want to protect and serve, he said silently.
Barrett squinted. His vision had all at once doubled. He saw two squad cars and two angels. He crawled toward the center of the squad cars, thankful Arcadias shot him with only a 9 millimeter and not a .45 filled with hollow points. He wouldn’t be alive now had that been the case.
Even as his organs shut down one by one, Barrett felt himself coming alive. For perhaps the first time ever—or at least for a very long time—he was doing something that didn’t solely benefit him. Serving others and putting their needs before his own made him feel good inside. A pity he had to reach death’s door to learn the value of selflessness.
Ten feet of grass and blacktop separated him from the squad car. He wished he could crawl faster. He felt like he moved no quicker than a slug. And like a slug leaving a slime trail behind him, Barrett’s escaping blood smeared the grass. To reach the squad car he needed time to slow down to a standstill. And yet his time on earth raced ever faster to its conclusion.
Barrett tasted blood, could feel it trickling out his mouth. He knew he bled internally. Its okay, I’m almost to my car, he told himself.
Seconds later, or maybe minutes later he reached the squad car. The light-shrouded angel seemed even more enormous this close up—a giant testament to power and purity. His stoic expression still hadn’t changed. He looked down at Barrett without pity. Only expectancy shone in his fierce blue eyes.
Barrett wanted to rest. He’d never experienced exhaustion this profound. But he couldn’t rest. He had a job to do.
Luckily he’d left the door open. He didn’t know why he’d done that, but he was glad he did. Barrett reached up and grabbed the seat restraint belt dangling beside the seat. He tried to pull himself up. But he’d grabbed the belt with his right hand—bloody from pressing against his wound. His grip loosened and slipped off. He collapsed into the grass.
Barrett listened to his lungs whistle as he lay there in the soft grass. He felt content to let the end come. But at the same time he wanted his last act on earth to mean something. Besides, he knew his late mother was watching him from above. Susan Barrett had read her Bible daily, praying just as often, and went to church all her life. Barrett wanted to make his saintly mother proud.
So he reached up his left hand this time. He grabbed the belt and hung on to it, while gathering his legs underneath him. But it took so long for his legs to comply. They had grown heavy and swollen and moved in awkward jerks.
To make the call to dispatch he would need to get to his feet one more time. It seemed like such an easy and natural thing to do. But the simple task posed an insurmountable challenge he couldn’t overcome. Barrett looked up at the imposing angel. “I could use some help here. You mind giving me a boost?” He barely recognized his voice. The words came out in gasping pants, muddled and garbled with pooling blood.
The angel moved from his post and held out his glowing hand. Barrett lifted up his bloody right hand and grasped the angel’s hand. Barrett immediately felt warmth enter his fingertips and move up his arm and into his upper torso. His whole body began to tingle.
The angel lifted him up as if Barrett weighed no more than a sack of feathers. And then the angel dropped him gently across the seat and console.
Barrett grabbed the police radio. He pushed the talk button, concentrated fiercely at pronouncing the words intelligibly. “Officer down at Whitcomb…Bed and Breakfast. Hostages…in…side,” he panted just before taking his last shallow breath.
As the dispatcher replied frantically back, Barrett felt his soul levitate up through the squad car’s roof. He realized then that the angel held him tenderly in his arms. They ascended through the night sky; all lit up like giant fireflies. When they rose above the roofline they stopped and hovered just above the widow’s walk.
Barrett looked down at the house. “Will the hostages make it out okay?”
“They are still in danger,” the angel said in a deep and melodic voice. “But help is on the way. Your conversion isn’t the only miracle taking place tonight.”
A smile broke across Barrett’s anguished face. He felt so pure, his soul—dirty and condemned only moments before—had been scrubbed clean and made pure.
Barrett noticed movement nearby. He turned his head and witnessed an amazing sight. The sky opened like a stage curtain being peeled back. A wondrous world, astounding and majestic came into view. He saw a golden city shaped like a cube. A towering wall shimmering with jewels surrounded the city.