Excerpt: Wings Like Eagles

“Just what would a sweet lad like you be doin out here, eh?” the man said, gripping his shoulder tightly. His other hand was stuffed into a pocket of what one might have been a jacket, gripping the cloth tightly. The boy stiffened.
Well, he had gotten his wish. But as he stared at the man (he had to look up to do so,) he couldn’t help but pity him. Or maybe he was just trying to hide his fear. He swallowed hard, and straightened.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business, now is it?” he said, pointedly staring at the mark on the man’s chest. The man noticed his gaze and smiled.
“What, ain’t never seen one before?” he asked, pushing a corner of the coat out of the way. The boy couldn’t help but gasp in shock. The pentagram, sign of a Sinner, blazed on his chest as if he had just been marked. The skin around it was inflamed, fierce, angry. “Ye-e-es,” the man said, almost hissing. “One of the Hand’s chosen boys wouldn’t have ever seen us before, would they?”
“Let me go,” he said calmly. The man grinned at him.
“Why?” he asked. “Scared the Hand’s men might find you?”
“You’re the one who should be scared!”
The man threw back his head and laughed at this. “Oh, no, dear boy,” he said, and he pulled his other hand out of his pocket and pointed the gun at him. “I think you should be the one who’s scared.”
The boy stared, heart pounding. “I-I’ll call the cops!” he squeaked.
“Oh, no, boy,” the man said. “For both of our sakes, you’ll keep damn near quiet about this.” The man smirked at the boy’s confused look. “What, you didn’t know? Speaking to criminals like us is as much a crime as anything else, lad. ‘Course, you’re too young to know that.”
Of course he hadn’t known that. He was only nine; what could he know? He cursed Jacob silently, knowing that the other boy probably knew all about this. They had never liked each other much, anyway; he was probably hoping to get him into trouble.
“What do you want?” he asked quietly.
“What do I want?” the man echoed, a distant look on his face. “What do I want? …I supposed I just want to give you a little perspective, that’s all.” With a smile, he suddenly fired, and the boy flinched. The bullet slammed into the wall behind him, shattering on the solid concrete wall. Almost immediately sirens filled the air.
The boy yelled hoarsely, kicking the man between the legs, and pulled out of his grasp. The man swore, falling to his knees, and struggled to stand up. The boy ran, as fast as his short legs would carry him, until suddenly he was jerked back, and was again staring at the man.
“I’ll be passin the torch to you, lad,” he said conspiratorially. He pulled the boy back into the alley, and fired another shot into the air. The boy flinched at the noise, covering his ears with his hands. The man slapped the boy’s hands away, and pulled him close.
“Listen, lad,” he whispered. “Kids like you are our future. If your generation is okay with this world, the battle’s already lost. If anyone can change it… it’s you. Not me.” He smiled, and placed the gun in the boy’s hands, wrapping his fingers around it and directing the gun at his own chest. “See, th’ Lord’s waitin for me to come home. He’s got a special place for martyrs, I hear.”
“But you’re a...”
“Th’ Lord I know don’t care ‘bout that, lad. I’ll be waitin for you.” The man’s fingers curled around the trigger, and with a soft squeeze released the bullet into his chest. The two sounds were almost indistinct from each other; the bang of the bullet firing, and the thunk as it ripped through the man.