What had once been the eye sore and shame of the Midwest, the Revelation had turned to gold. Detroit had endured urban decay and social structure paralysis the day it made touring its modern day abandoned streets and factories into a tourist attraction. What the Revelation revealed were the hidden away gems under all the debris; cars. Motörheads, sadly discovered on their day of judgement that not only could they not take their beloved Dodge Chargers with them, there also was no actual highway to hell and hence, the Cadillacs, Beamers, Rams and Corvettes were rounded up by those only too happy to inherit the earth.
As Jack walked to his office in the security department, he stopped to admire the latest vehicular impounds. Last night’s discoveries had taken place in the suburbs and it was an impressive haul. In the middle of the garage sat a shiny, black mustang. Jack peeked inside the driver’s side widow. Brown leather trimmed the seats and steering wheel. He ran his fingers along the grill and winced. While most of the world was being sorted one soul at a time, it didn’t stop heaven from charging a hefty fee to its staff for a bit of joy riding. Since scenario creating was limited to living quarters while he still inhabited earth, the real, hands on thrill of driving fast down empty roads was extremely intoxicating. He stared at his own reflection in the immaculate, shining hood and the stole himself away to the office.
Jack found a stack of reports waiting for him on his desk when he sat down. He had been a sentry, a soldier and champion for heaven and through the centuries he had written on everything from papyrus to onion skin. Never the less and no matter the medium, paperwork was dull and lackluster. Raphael, blonde and boyishly handsome swooped into the room with graceful arrogance. “Join me in Michael’s office in two hours. We need to talk.” Jack looked up from behind the mound of papers at his desk surprised. “Peter Lark was found two feet from his wings. They were ripped from body and he is presently in stasis until the Revelation authority can make a decision. Raphael reiterated the two hour deadline and left as quickly as he had come in.
A recently new officer, Sam, assigned to learned the inner working of the Security office arrived next. “Excuse me, Sir but a few of us wondered if there is anything we might do to help reinstate Peter?”
Great, thought Jack, now the whole department knows. Too many stories like Peter’s made the rookies nervous and trigger happy. “Just stick to your work at hand. Peter was a good officer and we want to continue his work.” It was best advice he could give. While inspired by a constant sense of duty, he had never considered himself religious. While others might have advised to pray for their comrade injured in the line of duty, Jack didn’t. It wasn’t soldier-like to beg and plead. Heaven made its decisions and they were final. Praying was obsolete.
Sam nodded as if he understood his orders and added, “Rumor has it a black soul is to blame.”
It wasn’t surprising. Human life had been breaking through evolutionary boundaries for centuries. There was talk that some had broken out of the sorting area, refusing to be judged for fear of eternal agony. He had seen it through the years in heaven’s army; people who were staring genocide of the face had nothing to lose in their attempt to escape. The black souls were no different.
“There is a big shake up in the sorting facilities. Protocol and procedures are being re-examined.” Sam took Jack’s lack of response as indifference for gossip and left. With quiet restored to his office, he took a moment to look up the secret growing number of known black souls.
The suspects had commonalities. The majority were uneducated who had worked as general laborers or thieves. Criminal records, addiction and mental instability were also common factors. The traits suggestion rebellion but not necessarily a well thought out plan, organized and successfully seen through to fruition. Jack sifted through the individual files, case by case. He shuddered to think if any of them acquired the ability to create scenarios. The harm that could be done was staggering and could lead to the conversion of innocent people. Black souls were wolves to the lambs and Jack knew he would answer the call if he was tapped to hunt the hunters. His military instinct began to kick into overdrive and he knew walking into a meeting with his superiors in an agitated state certainly wouldn’t do anyone any good, including himself.
Distraction presented itself in the form of the digital security feed from the garage. He zoomed in on the mustang from different angles, read the specs on its ability to go from zero to sixty, the street tire performance reports, it collecting value. He checked himself by zooming in on the price tag. You can’t take it with you, Jack, he told himself. Not even a soldier of heaven was permitted material good transport after the Revelation was complete. Still, was it so terrible to enjoy a little of his time remaining? He thought of Peter. No one ever knew when their number was up.