The wall of televisions all showed the same image.  Angels.

Debra and I stood outside the window of the electronics store, watching the various news channels reporting live from Mount Everest.  The reporters could not get too close, of course; the angels were all near the peak of the mountain.  But even from the base of the mountain, you could see the glow from the bright figures, like vast Christmas tree decorations, winking in and out of our world.   

“God, they are so pretty!” Debra said, clutching her mittened hands together.  “I hope I get to see one in person.”

I snorted, giving her a sideways glance.  She was grinning in absolute joy.  The best I could manage was a frown.

She turned towards me, her dreadlocks twirling around her as she moved.  I could tell my dismissive noise had not gone unnoticed.  She pursed her lips in disapproval, her almond eyes narrowing as she thrust her mitten at me.  Somewhere beneath that fabric, I assumed a finger was pointing my way. 

“What’s your problem, Peri?  Don’t you think they’re beautiful?” she asked.

“No, it’s not that,” I said, trying to hold the edge from my voice, “I just…well, I mean what’s the point?  We’ll never see one.”

Debra put her hands on her narrow hips and stood up straight, glaring down at me.  “Come on, Peri, why not?  The angels have been appearing all over the world for a year now.  Two have shown up in New York already.  And now they’ve been singing on Mount Everest for over a week, like in a choir!  Why can’t we see one?  We could get lucky.”

Being a child of the New York City foster care system, I was not particularly given to believing in luck.  At least not good luck.  That’s one of the things where Debra and I really differed.  I didn’t have Debra’s good fortune.  

Staring up at my friend I was struck by just how different we were.  Physically, she was tall and willowy, with caramel-colored skin thanks to her father and dark almond eyes from her mother.  She’d dyed her short, curly hair brown with streaks of blond and I could see a halo of it poking out from beneath her bobble topped knit-hat.  Her coat was expensive, soft, and bright with several stripes of color.  Everything about her looked fuzzy and soft.  

I, on the other hand, was not.  Tiny next to her, I was extremely pale with long, straight black hair.  My green eyes had a bit of tilt to them, but I don’t know who my parents were so I don’t know who gave me what.  Tight black jeans, a clingy black shirt, and an old pair of second-hand combat boots made me look anything but fuzzy.  My only allowance for the winter weather was a pair of purple and black arm warmers.  I cultivated as much of a ‘get lost’ aura as possible.               

I’d been on edge all morning, anxious and irritable for some indefinable reason, and her enthusiasm was beginning to grate on me.  “I doubt you’ll be very lucky around me,” I grumbled.  I pointed my black-nailed finger back at her.  “You do realize how big this city is, don’t you?” I asked.  “I mean, hell, even if an angel showed up again in New York, the chances that we’d be anywhere near it are pretty much nil.  We’re more likely to win the lottery.”  

Debra started fidgeting with her wide silver bracelet.  She looked away, as though deep in thought.  “Well, sure, but I mean, come on.  It could totally happen.”  She no longer sounded so convinced.  

“Yeah, right,” I began. I was preparing for my finishing argument, but from the corner of my eye, I saw glints of light, like falling stars, and I turned back towards the television wall.  As I did, the pictures winked out almost simultaneously.  The screens blurred with static briefly before the newscasters returned.  They seemed to be apologizing,  as the words ‘Technical Difficulty’ scrolled across the bottom of the screens.  All of the TVs showed similar images.

“Lame,” Debra said, voicing my unspoken thought.  “This has been happening all week.  They say it’s the bad weather around Mount Everest.  I swear they lose the signal every time I want to watch the choir.”

I nodded.  “Yeah, I suppose.”  Several of the screens were now showing footage from the latest terrorist bombing in the Middle East.  It was the kind of real yet uninteresting news that had been casually pushed aside in the post-angel world.  From the details running on the bottom of the footage, I saw it was nearly a week-old story: lives lost and unreported in the wake of the strange supernatural events that were now a part of everyday life.

“God, you’re so negative,” Debra said, interrupting my train of thought.  “Can’t you think positively once in a while?  I know you’re like, a goth chick and all, but sheesh!”  She rolled her eyes dramatically.  Before I could respond, the gears shifted and she’d jumped tracks.  She never stayed angry or upset for long.   “It’ll take them ages to get it fixed.  Let’s get to the rink!”

“Yes please!”  I didn’t want to watch the angels.  But I did want to go skating.  

“Listen, Debra,” I said, feeling uncomfortable, “I really appreciate you loaning me the money to come with you.”

Debra shrugged.  “It’s no biggie.”

“You know I’ll pay you back,” I said.  My minimum wage job left me little extra money for frivolous expenses like skating, but it was still something I enjoyed those rare times I got to go.

“It’s fine, hon.  How can I celebrate my birthday if you aren’t there?”  She gave me a quick hug before pulling away.  I think she was blushing a little, but it was hard to tell.  I was embarrassed enough already, so I just let it drop.  

As we moved through the crowded, Manhattan sidewalk, filled with early Christmas shoppers and their large packages, Debra glanced at me.  “Don’t you ever get cold?” she asked, hunkering down in her bright wool coat.

I looked down at my outfit.  A great deal of my dangerously pale skin was exposed to the chilly air.  Not exactly the most appropriate winter gear, especially as it was snowing.  “Nah, not really.  You know me.”  And I wasn’t lying.  The only coat I owned was a thrice handed-down that should have died in the ’90s.  But I wasn’t really bothered by hot or cold weather, never had been really.  People were always reminding me to put a jacket on, or whatever, but I never really noticed.  Of course, being reminded of it sometimes made me feel like a bit of a freak. Debra did not seem to notice my discomfort but returned to blabbering on about the angels.  “I love seeing them on TV,” she said.  “They are amazing!  Don’t you want to see one?”

I shrugged.  Barring a couple of crazy foster homes, I hadn’t been raised in religion so the whole idea of angels being real was a tough one to swallow.  Debra was raised Catholic before she started leaning towards New Age.  And I guess it was easy enough to pick up old ways.

Across the street from us, a man waved a sign that read, “Angels mean God is Real!  Repent Sinners!”  His type were everywhere now.  They assumed the presence of things that looked like angels meant their beliefs were correct.  They tended to ignore that other faiths were also taking these beings as proof that their beliefs were correct and proof that everyone else was wrong.  A lot of people wanted to co-opt the angels: religions, new agers, UFO nuts, even governments.  The angels themselves said nothing on the matter.  They appeared, observed, and then after a time, disappeared again.  What their presence actually meant, what they wanted or why they were here, was still a mystery.  

“I don’t know, Debs,” I said, “I mean, they aren’t all sweetness and light.  You saw that one in Paris, didn’t you?”

Debra shook her head.

Exasperated, I continued, “You know, the one with the freaking lion head? Or the eagle guy?   I mean, come on, some of them are freaking monsters.  They give me the creeps.”  I shuddered.  Every picture I’d seen of an angel made my skin crawl, no matter how beautiful it appeared.  As we neared Rockefeller Center, I went on, “I mean, no one even really knows why they are here.  What if the UFO freaks are right and they are aliens?  What if this ‘heavenly choir’ stuff is all a ruse?”

The rink was full of people today.  It was nice to see so many people continuing with their lives as though nothing strange was happening in the world.  As we, well Debra mostly, paid for our tickets to the skating rink, she finally responded.  “Puh-leeze!  I’ve seen the interviews with the witnesses.  Sure, some of them are scared, but most are just happy and crying with…” she searched for the words, “With the amazingness of it all!” 

As I laced up the skates that Debra had rented for me, I tried to quiet my grumbling agitation.  I didn’t know why I was in such a sour mood.  I didn’t want it to ruin the day.  Debra was in a great mood, and it was a celebration.  And frankly, we barely got to see each other anymore, now that she was in university and I was working crappy jobs with horrible schedules.  It was nice to have a day we both had off that we could do something like this.  

The air was crisp, the sound of laughter was everywhere and joy was in all the faces on the rink.  “Race ya!” Debra shouted before zooming off into the crowd.   

I should have been looking, because she certainly was not watching where she was going when she collided with a big guy in a letterman’s jacket.  They both tumbled onto the ice.  A half-full bottle of brown liquid drops from his pocket and smashes on the ice.  I can smell the alcohol from here.  

 “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see…” Debra says as she stands up.

“Yeah,” the guy says as he towers over her, “why don’t you watch where you’re fucking going bitch?”  The guy’s two friends skate up behind him, smirking at both their leader and the girl he’s terrorizing.

I slide behind Debra as she continues trying to placate the barbarian.  “I’m really sorry,” she says, her hands on her chest, “I really didn’t mean…”

“Just watch it bitch,” he says and shoves her into me.  His boys snicker as we fall back on the ice.  I manage to catch myself, but can’t stop Debra from landing hard.

The jerks skated away, their laughter burning my ears.  I helped Debra stand up.  Tears ran down her cheeks and she looked devastated.  

It was high school all over again. We were freshmen and some older girls were tormenting the new girls.  Debra was singled out for looking different than the whiter-than-white popular girls.  Everyone else was too scared to say anything, but I wasn’t.  I also wasn’t too scared to punch one of those bitches in her perfect nose. I ended up suspended for a week and after that, Debra and I became inseparable.

“Are you ok?” I asked.

She nodded, sniffling a bit as she said, “Yes.”

“Ok, wait right here.  I’m going to go take care of those jerks.”  I wasn’t scared now either.

“No!” Debra said as I turned, “Let’s just go.”

“Not yet,” I said, skating after them.  They’d ruined her special day, and now I was going to ruin theirs.

I caught the hyenas a little way off.  “Hey, jackass,” I called after their leader.

They stopped, turning towards me.  Their eyes were wide with surprise as I stopped in front of the big guy.  He glared down at me, easily a head and a half taller than I am.  But what he doesn’t know is that I’ve been dealing with people bigger than me my whole life.  You're either a victim, or you fight back.    

“Say you’re sorry,” I told him.

His boys nearly fell over themselves laughing.  He smirks.  “Fuck you, you emo skank.”  His breath reeked of alcohol.   

I poked him in the center of his chest.  “Say you’re sorry you miserable dickhead, or you are going to so wish you had.”  My anger has always caused me problems.  I have, what they politely refer to as, ‘issues.’

He didn’t take my advice.  The big guy just crossed his arms.  “Look dyke, run back to your girlfriend while I still think this is funny or else…”

I don’t let him finish.  Dropping low, I nail him in the crotch with an uppercut.  I’m stronger than I look, a lot stronger.  Freakishly strong when I’m pissed off, which I am now.  

Big guy doubled over, his eyes bulging.  “What the…?” one of his minions uttered uselessly while the other moves to take a swing.  Growing up in the system, I had to learn to take care of myself.  I grabbed his wrist as it came at me, and turned.  Twisting, I send him crashing face-first into the ice.

The last guy threw up his hands and skated away from me.  Seeing his retreat, I returned to the asshole that started this.  He was curled in the fetal position, vomiting onto the ice.  Grabbing him by the back of the head, I slammed his face into the muck.  “Say you’re sorry!” 

Hands gripped my shoulders, and a loud, stern voice said, “That’s enough.”  Wrenched off the guy, I fought back, spinning around and swinging at my unknown assailant.  My fist narrowly missed the face of a portly and surprised security guard.  

With the realization of what I almost did, the anger left me in a rush.  I covered my mouth in horror, unable to even apologize.  The guard’s face reddened.  “All right lady, that’s it, you’re out of here.”

Debra slid up next to me, her face covered in tears.  “No, please, she didn’t mean to hurt anybody.”

He turned his anger on her.  “You are lucky I’m not kicking you both out and handing this over to the police.  I saw what those punks did and it’s the only reason she gets to walk out of here on her own power.”

As he frog marched me and the goons away, Debra skated next to me.  “I’m so sorry,” she says, her eyes bright with tears, “this is all my fault.  I’ll come with you.”

Shaking my head, I said, “It’s ok, Debra.  I’m glad you didn’t get kicked out.  This is all my fault.  I should have just let it go.”

“Why didn’t you Peri?  Why don’t you ever just let it go?”  Her voice is quiet, shaking with pain and…anger?

I shook my head.  “I don’t know Debs, I just…can’t.”  One day, I knew, I was going to bite off more than I could chew and end up in a world of hurt.  When I thought things like that was when my anger scared me.    

Debra’s expression softened.  “It’s ok, it was nice to see you stand up to him,” she said.  “I’ll get out.”

 “Don’t let those assholes ruin your big day.”  More quietly, I added, “Don’t let me ruin your big day.”  I knew Debra would do anything for me, but I didn’t want her to come off the ice so soon.

Debra looked at me, confusion on her face.  “But what about you?  I couldn’t just leave you.”

I smiled, hiding my anger and disappointment at losing my part of the money and the day. Trying to make it okay I patted her hand.  “It’ll be fine.  I’ll watch you from the railings over here.“

It took a bit more convincing, but eventually, she skated away, promising it would only be for a few more minutes.  After a few, tentative movements, she started to enjoy herself.  She skated around, doing tricks, before coming back over to me.  “Did you see that spin I did?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said with a smile, “I love watching you on the ice.  You’re so great on the ice.”    

I think she felt she needed permission, and I was happy to give it to her.  She’d show off for me or skate up and talk to me about whatever crossed her mind.  It wasn’t so different from being on the ice with her.  Well, for her at least.  

I was too until my head started to hurt.  I mean, ball peen hammer hurt.   I felt like I’d been punched in my sinuses, which was odd: I never really had headaches.

“Are you ok?” Debra asked. 

“I don’t know,” I said through gritted teeth.  The pain faded to a sense of anxiety or nerves, worse than I’d felt all morning.  I felt drawn towards the big statue of Prometheus that loomed over the rink.  I must have been seeing things because there was this bright glow starting to form above the statue.

But everyone else was reacting.  They all stared, open-mouthed, at the bright light.  “What is it?” Debra asked as she started moving towards it.

I didn’t know why, but I did not want her to go that way.  I shouted her name but she wasn’t listening to me.  Everyone was either milling about or investigating the light.  Cell phones were raised, trying to catch it on camera.

Then she appeared.  It was just a light and then there was a person there: a woman with golden skin and ankle-length blond hair.  Her perfect body was barely concealed by wisps of diaphanous white gossamer that billowed around her.  White, dove-like wings spread from her back, unmoving, though they somehow held her aloft.  Her eyes were cast towards the sky, and her hands were clasped in front of her as though in prayer.  

She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life.  My body burned with aches and sensations I couldn’t describe.  I felt as though she was peeling me open, something inside me was boiling to the surface.  I wanted to cry and beg forgiveness for things I did not even know I had done.  I wanted her to love me.  She looked like mercy, in the flesh.  

And yet for some reason, I still did not want Debra to go anywhere near her.  Something inside me was screaming ‘no’.    

The skaters gathered around her, packing in close.  Some were on their knees; some were weeping.  I lost sight of Debra in the crowd.  Leaping over the barrier, I slid and then fell on the ice.  Just my luck.

That’s when Mercy changed.  Her blue eyes shone with a brilliant light, and waves of energy washed over her body.  Even at a distance, I could feel the intense pressure she was creating.  The statue of Prometheus beneath her began to fold and deform, as though a great, invisible hand were squeezing it, crushing it, pushing it down.  The ice cracked and splintered outward, that same force striking like a rock against a windowpane.  Some people got the message and started to run away.  Snakes of light followed them.  

Everyone the light touched burned.  Blue fire poured from their eyes and mouths. I could briefly see their skeletons.  People screamed and tried to escape.  I screamed, but for Debra, and tried to fight my way forward.  

Mercy clapped her hands and disappeared in light and thunder.  An incandescent ball of white flame expanded from where she was a moment before.  It spread from her in an instant, but somehow I watched it grow: a slow, inexorable globe of horror and death.  People were lifted by the shockwave, their bodies blasted backward or consumed by the fire.  I threw myself back as hard as I could.  My fear must have given me strength because I leapt farther than I ever have.

I did not leap far enough.

The shockwave hit me first, tossing me like a rag doll.  Things broke inside me but I could not hear my scream over the roar.  The heat followed an instant later.  Somewhere inside my mind, I realized this must all be happening simultaneously but it seemed like I was trapped in slow-motion; forced to reach my death by swimming through syrup.  Was this how everyone died?

I slammed through the wall of the ticket booth, tumbling through the wood and plasterboard before bouncing off the concrete behind it.  Burning debris showered over me.   Merciful darkness claimed me for a moment, pulling me into its depths.  

But I bobbed back to the surface.  There was a great ache in my chest, blotting out all my other pain.  Around me, I heard the crackling of flame and could smell the acrid odor of charred meat.  I turned my head, trying to see through the smoke.  Bodies, or what was left of them, lay all around me.  The skin was burnt and flayed from their bones.  The last thing I saw before the darkness pulled me back below was something jutting from a pile of rubble.

A familiar silver bracelet, melted onto a charred and fleshless wrist.