Chadpocalypse - 2:7 - Stairway to Heaven

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2:7 Stairway to Heaven

Before Marcus could finish his third knock, the wooden doors flew open. Heavenly, gold light spilled into the circular chamber, temporarily blinding Chad. He raised a hand to his face, trying to squint through the brightness. Somewhere in the distance, a harp played gently, its notes floating on a breeze that hadn’t been there a moment earlier.

     “Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” muttered Joe.

     James shrugged. “That’s kind of the idea, isn’t it?”

“Is that you, Joe?” asked a soft voice that seemed to come from every direction at once.

     Joe let the question hang in the air, but eventually answered. “Lovely to be in your presence again.” Each word brought him pain, leaving him in a twisted grimace by the end of the sentence.

     “Likewise,” answered the voice with playful sarcasm. “And you’ve brought a newcomer. I’m not dressed for a tribunal, but you might as well come up anyway.” The stairs illuminated with white light. Billows of mist cascaded down from high above, engulfing their feet.

     “Thank you,” called James, and made his way toward the stairs.

     Chad followed, ignoring Joe’s reluctance. Marcus stood sentinel by the door, making it clear he would not be joining them. “Best of luck on your business, sirs, but this is as far as I go. I’ll be back at the hotel bar if you need me.” He shook the empty flask for emphasis and bumbled back the way they had come.

     Chad gave him a wave. “You know, for a drunk, he’s not half bad as an escort.”   

     James chuckled. “Don’t let the drunkenness fool you. He’s one of the most formidable hunters The Order has ever seen.”

     “And don’t you forget it!” called Marcus from further down the hall.

     Chad shook his head in disbelief and mounted the staircase. The walls on either side were concave and painted with bright, blue cloud vistas, giving the illusion that the staircase was floating. As they walked higher, the sound of the harp grew louder and the blue murals of sky faded to an inky blackness, dotted with bright, white stars. Up ahead, Chad saw a pair of open golden gates.

     “I think it goes without saying, this is blasphemy.” Joe crossed himself again.

     “You’re going to pull a muscle if you keep doing that.” James squeezed his shoulder. “And for our sake, keep the religious fire to yourself, at least until we’re back in the car. We’re on thin ice as it is.”

     Joe slackened. “I suppose you’re right.”

     “You’re pretty sure we’ll pass this tribunal?” Chad eyed the edges of the stairs, watchful for any more fireplaces he might be shoved into. Despite having his life threatened at every turn, it was still a difficult adjustment.

     “I know it’s not easy, but relax.” Joe clapped Chad on the back. “I may have left The Order, but they don’t burn people who don’t deserve it…” he trailed off and amended: “Mostly.”

     Chad gulped as they ascended the stairs and walked through the golden gate. A woman dressed all in white was sitting at the end of a long, oak table, with her hands steepled before her. Floor-to-ceiling stained glass murals took the place of traditional walls. Rays of heavenly light shone through them, casting colored beams onto the table. At the end of the room was a massive image of Christ upon the cross, but rather than the traditional pained look, Chad swore he could see a smirk.

     “Welcome,” boomed the woman, her voice amplified through the room. “Oh, shit, sorry.” She fumbled with a small mic on her lapel and turned it off. There was a sharp tick as the sound cut off.

     Joe shook his head.

     “Oh, piss off, Joe.” The woman stood from her seat and pushed it in, careful to keep it perfectly straight. “You can judge all you want, but at the end of the day, YOU are here for MY help.” She crossed her arms.

     Unsure of what else to do, but knowing they were short on time, Chad stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Chad, and I’m here to try and stop the apocalypse.” It sounded even dumber than it had in his head, but he tried to puff out his chest and appear heroic. The resulting image was something closer to a man with a spinal disorder.

     The woman squinted at him and gave him a quick once over. “Yes, you do fit the build for ‘fair play’. I always suspected they would try something like this.”

     “That’s exactly what the horseman sai—”

     The woman held up a finger to silence them. “Quiet, child, I’m thinking.”

     Chad’s cheeks flushed and his anger washed out the dam that was his better judgment. “No!” he shouted.

     “I’m sorry?” The woman recoiled, giving him a hard look.

     “No,” he repeated, softer this time. “Through this whole thing, people have been underestimating me. Look, I might have a bit too much to drink sometimes, converse with alley cats, and may very well have lost my job.” Chad realized he still hadn’t called in to let the manager know he would be taking some time off. “Definitely lost my job,” he corrected. “But out of all of these fuckers,” he made a lazy circular motion at the other two men, “I am the only one who has actually done anything about this mess!”

     James let out a huff. “Hey, we came—”

     “No, James, you all waited for me to come back from wherever the hell I was on a godly lightning beam and then came running.” He regretted his tone a little, but the words spilling out of him were true and needed to be said. “I do appreciate you coming back for me, but I killed one of the Four Horseman. It’s time you all show me a little more respect.” Chad let out a long sigh and winced, anticipating holy retribution for his curse-laden outburst. None came. Instead, he felt relief.

     Joe coughed as if he were about to speak, but the elder held up a hand. She rapped her fingernails on the table, considering her next words carefully. “Killed one of the four horsemen?” she asked, eventually.

     “Yes.” Chad let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

     “Which one?” The woman’s eyes were sharp, searching for any hint of a lie.

     “Pestilence.” Chad saw the image of the great, green beast towering over the parking lot and shivered.

     “Well, that would explain why we’ve lost track of him.” She considered the fact for a second. “And I suppose the reports we got of hell hounds on the interstate was you as well?”

     “Me and Joe, yes.”

     She turned her attention to Joe. “And here I thought you were out of the game?” A hunger glittered in her eyes.

     “I am, that was a one off…” Joe scratched his chin. “He’s the one who killed the hell hound anyway, I just drove the car.”

     “Hmm.” The woman closed her eyes, sifting through the details. After a long pause, she asked: “Would any of you like a drink?”

     Chad practically gasped. “Desperately.” There wasn’t much he wanted more in the whole world. “I’ve been waiting for someone to offer for days.” Sweat prickled on the back of his neck at the thought of it.

     She motioned to a chair beside the head of the table and took her seat once again. “You two can come as well,” she made a motion to Joe and James. “Ordinarily we’d have a tribunal, but it seems like you’ve put this man through enough already. I can’t imagine traveling in your company.”

     Joe and James obediently shuffled over to the table, for once not offering a pithy reply. Chad followed suit and sat down. The chair’s aesthetic had exuded a vibe of holy penitent discomfort, but as he sat, the cushion sank in, enveloping him. He let out an involuntary sigh and immediately flushed beet red.

     “They’re nice aren’t they?” the elder winked. “We live in an age where devotion to one’s higher power no longer requires intolerable working conditions.” She pressed an intercom button in the table. “Matthew, can you please bring us some refreshments?”

     “Right away miss,” crackled a replying voice.

     The four of them waited in silence, eyeing each other. From the awkward eye contact, it was clear that Joe and the elder knew each other, but whether it was ex colleagues, lovers, or mortal enemies was impossible to ascertain. James seemed to be handling the situation coolly. He had pushed through his initial embarrassment and was relaxed in his chair. Chad suspected he had been in the room before.

     “I’m Madeline, by the way.” The woman leaned across the table to shake Chad’s hand.

     He followed suit. “I’m Chad.”

     “Yes, we know that already.” She smiled and the silence resumed as they waited for drinks.

     Chad let his eyes drift to the stained glass, not wanting to make any indirect eye contact. The social situation would become so much easier after a drink or two. Much like the image of Christ, the depictions weren’t somber, and instead felt as though they were winking at religion.

     After a few minutes, Joe cleared his throat. “So, how have you been, Madeline?”

     “You can call me Elder Albreth, Joe, and things have been fine. Turns out, not everyone who joins The Order runs off at the first assignment that makes them a little squeamish.”

     Joe’s face turned red, and he was about to fire back when one of the stained-glass windows swung open and a man in a crisp suit stepped out carrying a silver tray. On top of it were three glasses, an ornate bottle shaped like a cloud, and a set of goblets that were fizzing and popping. The man approached the table without a word, set the tray down and started mixing the ingredients.

     “I think you’ll enjoy this.” Madeline’s eyes glistened. “It’s a specialty cocktail of ours. Big hit at parties.”

     “What’s in it?” Chad looked at the fizzing, popping mixture with curiosity and hesitance. He had taken a lot of strange drinks from a lot of strange people, but none of them had ended particularly well. In fact, one had gotten him into his current predicament.

     “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

     The man finished mixing the drinks and slid them to everyone that wasn’t Joe.

     “I heard you weren’t drinking anymore.” Madeline gave him a small salute and picked up her glass.

     “Thanks,” Joe said, rather reluctantly.

     “Now that we’ve got some refreshments, let’s get down to business. From what I’ve heard, you’re involved in quite the apocalyptic matter, and we’re running very low on time…”

     Chad took a sip of his drink and was surprised as both fruity and sour flavors played across his tongue. The taste filled his mouth, cleared his head, and gave him the confidence to speak. So, with less reluctance than he expected, Chad launched into the quickest explanation he could of what had happened to him over the past few days. Some of the details were a bit fuzzy on account of the LSD and being shot into a coffee shop, but for the most part, he managed.

     Madeline remained silent, sipping her drink and taking the story in. She didn’t nod, or offer any encouragement, but instead, silently processed everything Chad was telling her. It wasn’t until he came to the part about how they arrived at The Order that she spoke.

     “Well, that is quite the story.” There was genuine admiration in her voice.

     “I can vouch for everything after Pestilence appeared,” offered James.

     “Oh, I believe it.” Madeline stirred her drink. “I added a little something to your libations to ensure that I would get the truth.”

     James looked down at his drink and pushed it away. “Really, Madeline?”

     She shrugged. “You came in here unannounced, dragging a newcomer when we’re full up, and brought one of the people I wanted to see least in the world.” She paused to glare at Joe. “What was I supposed to do?”

     Chad tried not to speak, for fear of what he might reveal, but couldn’t help himself. “What exactly happened between you and Joe, was it sex? I bet it was sex.”

     “Chad!” cut in Joe.

     Madeline waved a hand. “Nothing so interesting as that, and hush, Joe. If I wanted to be mad about what the boy said, I wouldn’t have spiked his drink.”

     “Can we skip the games and get to the part where you tell us if you’re going to help?” asked Joe. “The boy made it very clear we’re on a bit of a tight schedule here.”

     Madeline locked her eyes with his, glaring hot daggers. “You know I don’t play games.” Whatever hint of friendly chatter had been in her voice was dead and gone. This was an Elder talking. “What I gather from Chad’s story is that you’re all probably exhausted and need time to rest.”

     Chad hadn’t thought about it. He had managed to sleep some in the car on their way out of Midway, but not what anyone would really consider to be rest. “I’d say that’s on the money.” On cue, he yawned.

     “We do need rest, but we’re in a hurry,” added James as a reminder.

     “Indeed.” Madeline steepled her fingers before her again. “What you also need is a location on the remaining two horsemen, Famine and War. Lucky for you, I think I’ve got some talented analysts who can find it.”

     “And what about Death?” asked Chad.

     “Oh, don’t worry, you won’t find Death.” Her eyes took on a hollow look. “Death finds you.”