CHAPTER 9

Monica's mind was whirling as Phil knelt on the ground, towering over her, knife blade pressed up against her cheek. The same thoughts kept running through her mind: Andrew had been shot. Annie was dead. Phil was a murderer. He was about to r…

"Please, no. Phil, please," Her voice was choked, even as her entire body trembled.

"I like to hear 'em beg, Monica," He whispered, breath hot against her ear, before his lips grazed her cheek, causing her stomach to churn violently.

"You can't do this…you can't…I'm an angel…" The words were a desperate plea that the familiar warm glow would surround her and end this madness.

"Oh, are you now? I'll admit you look like one, but I'll have to let you know shortly if you are truly an angel inside and out."

When Phil forced his lips down upon hers, the little angel fought vehemently against the strong human as whimpering cries escaped her. He was going to do it…he was going to rape her…and Andrew was bleeding to death so close by.

She didn't even realize as the scream filled the room that it was hers. It was a cry of complete anguish that echoed off the walls and filled the darkened room. Even after Phil's fist connected with her cheek, causing white hot pain to cloud her vision, the scream continued. A crash a moment later and the pressure of Phil's grip on her arms subsided.

The sound of Monica's cry had propelled Andrew from the floor, despite the horrible pain such movement caused. Though it was against his angelic nature, he could not bear what was about to happen to his beloved, and his hand weakly reached for the gas lamp. Swinging it violently, the flame diminished before the lamp hit Phil in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

The man's body fell on top of the little angel and her terrified screams intensified. It was only the sound of Andrew repeatedly calling her name that finally caused her to calm enough to realize what had just happened. Softer cries poured from her lips as she shoved Phil off of her with all the strength in her being.

"Andrew…Andrew…Andrew…" Monica murmured between sobs as she crawled to where he was on the floor once more. She pulled his head into her lap, her trembling hand stroking his blonde hair, "We have to…get out of here…we have to…"

He closed his eyes in anguish for a moment before he reached up to touch her delicate cheek, already able to feel the swelling from Phil's fist, "Baby, there is no 'we'. You have to get out of here."

The little angel blinked, not quite sure of what she'd just heard, "No…you're coming with me…you need help…"

"Angel, listen to me," His voice was soft and weak, but still somehow steady, "Phil is going to wake up again and you cannot be here. I can't make it, Monica, but you need to run and run hard. He can't catch you."

She was already shaking her head violently, "No! I'm not leaving you! I'm not! I'll help you! I can do it!"

His heart swelled with love at her words, despite the fact that they both knew they weren't true. Yes, she could try to help him, but there was no way her human form could support his weight and Andrew wasn't even sure he had the strength to walk, "I know that you would try, sweetheart, but you have to move faster. He'll look for you, Angel and he can't find you baby, because I won't be able to help you." His vision was starting to fade from the loss of blood and he knew in a few minutes he would fall into unconsciousness.

"No…" The word caught on a sob as her hand kept running through his hair, needing to touch him, "This is…my fault…I should have listened to you…I should have seen what Phil was…but I just looked at him and…missed you so much…because I told you we…we needed time apart!"

"Noo, Angel, you're wrong," He took her hand and brought it to his lips, watching as she shook her head once more, "Baby, listen to me because there isn't much time. You have to promise me that you will run. You will leave here and run into the woods and keep running. Promise me, Monica."

How could he ask this of her? How could he expect her to leave him here with a man who had already shot him? How could she know for sure that God would intervene and help him? How could she know if His plan involved that? Monica lowered her head as sobs shook through her small body.

"Promise me, baby," Andrew whispered, "If he hurts you…Angel, I couldn't bear it. Promise me."

"I..I…promise.." She hated herself for the words, and her sobs increased as Andrew went limp in her arms the moment she said them.

"Andrew! Andrew!" Monica called his name again and again, before she placed her hand against his heart, feeling the steady, albeit weak, beat, "I love you. I love you so much and I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry…" Lowering her head, she brushed her lips to his, even as her tears fell against his cheek.

Tenderly, she lowered his head to the floor as she heard a weak groan from Phil. Somehow, she stood up despite how badly her legs were shaking. Shrugging out of her coat, she covered her beloved angel's body with it, in an attempt to keep him warm. Then she turned and grabbed the gun that Phil had left lie by the lamp. It felt as if it were burning her hand to touch it, but she was not about to leave it here for Phil to use against Andrew again. She then, reached down and grabbed the knife as well, before she nervously placed her hand into the man's pocket, relief filling her when she found his cell phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed 911 and then tried to control her tears enough to speak.

"Please…you have to help my friend…" Monica managed to give the address that Phil had given her when she had gotten into his car, even as the realization flooded her mind that he had never meant for her to leave this place alive,

"Please, you have to hurry. My friend, Andrew…he's been shot by the man you've been looking for…his name is Phil Wilson…please, you have to hurry."

Hearing another groan coming from Phil, Monica ended the call. Dropping the cell phone and grabbing the gun and knife once more, she ran out of the building, knowing that if she looked back, she'd never leave.

X

The cold night air bit into the Irish angel's skin as she left the building and launched herself into the woods. Monica hated the darkness with her entire being, but she had made a promise and she had to keep it. She hadn't run very far before she stopped, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. What if Phil couldn't find her and turned his rage on Andrew again?

Though frightened tears continued to fall from her doe-like eyes, Monica retraced her steps back to the edge of the woods, where the abandoned farmhouse came into view. Kneeling down behind a huge rock, she waited, shivering in the night. She had to protect Andrew…it was her fault he was there, no matter how much he disagreed. Closing her eyes for a moment she lifted up an urgent care for the Father to take care of him and she was still praying when she heard the sound of shuffling gravel.

"Angel!" Phil's voice was tinged with anger and Monica's breath caught in her throat, "Come on out, Angel. You and me have some unfinished business to attend to."

Gathering all of her courage, Monica rose to her feet, and raised her voice in fear she didn't have to pretend to feel, "Stay away from me! Go away!" She watched in terror as with the sound of her voice, Phil broke into a run in her direction.

Turning quickly, Monica started running as fast as her legs would carry her. It was too dark to see where she was going, and branches lashed up against her face, causing stinging pain, but still she didn't stop. She had to lead this man as far away from Andrew as she could and she quickened her steps as she heard Phil still crashing through the woods behind her, continually calling her "Angel". The sound of his voice saying the affectionate name that was reserved only for Andrew nearly made her feel sick, but she tried not to dwell on it as she continued to run.

The sound of Phil's voice grew fainter as the little angel placed a greater distance between them. Her breathing came hard and frantic and her face both throbbed from his fist earlier and stung from the many tiny cuts made by the branches, but she continued to run.

Suddenly, Monica was thrown forward, her foot tangling in some errant branches that she had been unable to see. She was moving fast enough that when she fell, she tumbled, her head hitting against the hard ground as a cry escaped her. Lying on the cold ground, she breathed hard and listened, but the woods now seemed silent; almost too silent.

As she sat up, she felt a warmth on her leg and she reached down and gasped. The knife she'd had in her pocket had sliced into her thigh upon her fall, the gash long, deep and flowing blood freely. Terribly frightened, she unbuttoned the sweater she was wearing overtop a sleeveless blouse and tied it around the wound, trying to control the blood flow as best she could. It was hurting now, throbbing painfully and her fingers trembled as she touched her head, feeling blood there also.

"Angel!"

Phil's voice was close once more and Monica forced herself to her feet despite pain and dizziness and started running as best as she could. He was too close and she had to lose him once again.

She'd made a promise.

After ten minutes, the pain was nearly unbearable and she could feel herself growing weaker.

"Father, help me," Monica murmured and a moment later a large formation of rocks came into view, only the sudden illumination from the moonlight allowing her to see it. Moving slower now, she slipped behind the rocks and sank down to the ground, trying to keep her breathing as quiet as she could. Reaching down, she grimaced; the entire leg of her blue jeans was soaked in blood and she was growing more and more lightheaded.

Hearing footsteps, she held her breath, her heart beating in her chest so loudly she was sure Phil would be able to hear it. But he didn't and a few moments later, she heard him move further into the woods.

But it was only moments after that, that the little angel lost consciousness.