JOHN FINNIE

Belial's huge body crumpled and burned in on itself as John leapt off of it to watch, swaying in the relative calm before him. The other Johns faded to nothing, along with their Sems as John stared at the carnage. He locked eyes with Scarred John, who gave him a nod and floated away on the wind.

'I have it John!' shouted the most beautiful voice he could ever want to hear. He turned to see a ragtag angel bleeding from wounds serious enough to kill a mortal. She made her way through the smoke and dust until their eyes met. The smile on her face gave him all the info he needed.

John ran across the rubble, through the smoke, dodging between huge lumps of tarmac, cars, and the dead. Tears streamed down his face, but the grin he wore faded as a man-sized black orb floated down between them.

'Do not do this John,' Dark John said, his voice seemed distant from inside the sphere.

'It's over,' John said, 'why can't you accept it?' I'm going for the first. I'm going to stop it before it all begins. You should be happy.'

'And yet I am still here John. Strange that I'm here.' Dark John looked around. 'Strange that I'm here still, when all the others have faded. I can stop it John, I can live. All I have to do is kill the angel and destroy the first photo, pretty simple really. Then there is no other path for you.'

Sem grimaced in pain as she drew her sword. 'Step out of the fucking sphere John, let's see who kills who.' She tucked the photo into the sleeve of her suit and moved into a combat stance.

Without even a whisper Death appeared beside John again. He put his hand on John's shoulder and spoke three words. 'You are mortal.'

Dark John's sphere disappeared and he floated to the ground. 'Come then Angel,' Dark John said with a grin, 'kill me if you can.'

A luminous acid green ball appeared in his hand but disappeared as soon as it came, then he screamed. 'What have you done?!' he shouted, turned to John. Blood gushed from the wound across John's wrist, bubbling occasionally, and as he watched Dark John's left hand curled up, gnarled.

John staggered a little. 'It seems you're not as powerful as you thought John, you rely on me to survive!' And with that he stabbed himself through the leg. Dark John screamed again and hit the floor, followed closely by John as he pulled the sword from his leg and grit his teeth against the pain threatening to overwhelm him. With monumental effort John rose to his knees and leant forward with his throat on the sword tip.

'I swear I'll do it.' John grimaced with the pain. His head went light and he moved forward, cutting into his throat. Dark John grasped his throat. 'No!' He croaked. 'Stop! I will go, just stop this madness, or you will kill us both!'

John locked eyes with Dark John. 'No, only I will die. You will cease to have ever been.'

Dark John nodded and a dark orb appeared over him. 'You have not seen the last of me John Finnie!' With one further vengeful look he faded into nothing.

Sem was with him before he could tip fully into unconsciousness. She grabbed him and lay him on the floor with the tenderness of a mother. 'John' --stroked his cheek-- 'you crazy fucker, you were going to kill yourself for me. I could have taken him, no need for all this.'

She looked around at the wrecked city, the stench of the dead hung heavy in the air. Smoke and fire seemed to be all around them, adding to the reek of this hell on earth. The shouting and pleading seemed to get louder as the people realised help might possibly come. Sirens sounded in the distance and helicopters hovered in the air, their propeller blades cutting with sudden and frightening violence.

John drew Semila's eyes to his with a gentle but bloody hand on her cheek. 'If you're done taking a break Sem, I need a bit of TLC, I'm in a shit load of pain here.' Those eyes. He felt himself getting lost in their infinite depths, pools of bottomless honey as soothing as her touch to the soul.

Tears of joy welled up in those honey pools. 'Of course John, of course.'

A massive crater scarred a central street in York, one of many dents in the landscape, a hole of pitch surrounded by destruction and flame and smoke and corpses. In the centre of the crater two people glowed, two people healed, then two people disappeared.

#

Sem was ready to fight as soon as they entered the Blink, but John pulled up to a halt as they looked at the carnage before them. The void between the single star and the small sepia toned photo was full of bodies, smashed, cut, and burned. Dead angels and demons floated by, knocking into one another and spiralling away into the distance. Sem's hand went to her mouth. 'Thousands, thousands of my friends.' Tears left her eyes and drifted into the void. A single angel swooped down and stopped before them.

She looked John up and down. 'So many sacrifices, all for one mortal.' She floated forward. 'I hope you were worth it John Finnie. Go and finish this John, finish it and save us all.'

With a flick of her hand all three were outside the photo's translucent wall. The angel spoke again. 'Your...Our destiny awaits John Finnie. God be with you.' She bowed and moved away.

John took a deep breath and looked at Sem. 'The hardest thing about entering a photo of this age,' he said, 'is the repair. We only have one shot at it, if it tears too much, we'll lose it, and along with that our only chance.'

Sem nodded. 'I have your back John. Let's fucking do this!'

John nodded and stepped into the photo.

The noise assaulted their ears straight away. Huge bellows and screams, sounds of metal hitting metal and machinery moving around above them. Both Sem and John crouched low and scanned the area. Nothing could be seen, so John set to work at sealing the rip. He pulled the delicate edges together and put his hands upon them, the rip began to heal.

'Sem,' John shouted, 'put the edges together and keep your hands on them, they fix faster.' Sem did as she was shown and together they sealed the photo.

John sighed. 'Well, that's one job done. Now to find this son of a bitch.'

Sem grinned, her golden tooth and quirky smile gave John hope as they moved forward. They only took three strides and Sem stopped.

'I can't go any further John.' She put her hands up, banged against an invisible force.

'Yeah you can,' he said, 'come on Sem, we'll do this together.'

Sem shook her head. 'You don't understand John, I really mean it. Look.'

John moved closer to her. Her hands went white as she pushed against an invisible barrier, she put her shoulder against it and pushed, her face went red with strain. John put his hand over hers and pushed, whatever was stopping the angel moving forward was strong.

They looked each other in the eye, pressed their foreheads and noses together. 'I guess this is your road John,' Sem said as she stroked his hair.

'Yeah,' John said, 'course it is, life doesn't make things easy does it.' Letting go of her hand, he walked forward then too came to a sudden halt. The sword in his hand would not pass the barrier either. John looked up at Sem who shrugged and cocked one eyebrow. He let go of the sword, the noise as it hit the floor lost in the myriad sounds above him.

He looked Sem in the eyes and for the first time he was not mesmerised. Sem put her hand up against the invisible barrier. John came up and rested on hers.

'Be strong John,' she said. 'Remember God gives strength to those who need it.' John nodded and walked off.

'John!' Sem shouted. John turned. 'Just in case God doesn't hear you, I always find a fucking hard throat punch does the job.'

John smiled and walked off through the steam and pipes.

#

Above John men shouted and the sounds of activity clanged. He made his way to some raking ladders and ascended them. The heat simmered above the ladders and John realised why gazing around. Huge white-hot steel blocks stuttered down a conveyor belt at a rhythmic pace. Every forty meters or so water quenched the metal, boiling huge clouds of white steam into the rafters. John took the ladder back down to floor level. 'A steel works?' he mumbled as he jogged along a subterranean corridor.

The further he went, the worse the light got. Soon muck and dust clouded the light fittings. He stopped to rub some of the dirt off to improve visibility, but voices sounded from around the corner and he froze mid spit-shine. If he got caught the Collector might finish killing the little girl and all this will have been for nothing. He crouched down and moved towards an alcove in the wall. The voices grew louder so John shut his eyes and pushed his body flat against the wall.

He gave a small shout. The wall gave, toppling him into the next room.

The small false wall swung back into position, leaving John on his back in the dark. The voices faded, yet he lay still enough not to make a sound just in case they could find him here. When the voices had long faded, John got to his knees and scrabbled about looking for a light switch or something to show him where he was. His hands scurried around on the table and found a box of matches, the reassuring chacka it made when he shook it a sure sign it was at least half full. 'Thank you God.' He looked up into the darkness with a smile.

John struck the first match, its head came off, fizzing out on the table top. 'Bloody damp. You have to be having a laugh here.' He took out another and struck it, the sudden glare half blinded him. A paraffin lamp near his hand caught his eye, the match light reflected on its surface revealed a smeared, older version of himself. Would he ever get used to being older? He took the glass top off and lit the wick. Took a few seconds to light, but when it did the darkness fled enough to leave him in a wide circle of light that encompassed half of a bed.

Tied to the bed was a scared little girl, her eyes wide with fear, her face streaked with tears, her mouth gagged. Time shivered to a halt as they looked at each other, then she started to scream, her cries muffled by the gag.

'No!' John said. 'Abigail, I'm here to help you.' He hooked the lamp on a nail stuck in the wall and knelt down to eye level. 'Look at me Abigail, I am not him! I'm not the man who took you.'

Abigail looked at him and calmed a little, fresh tears running into the gag.

'Good. John reached down to the rope at her feet. 'Now I'm going to untie you, and then we get out of here okay?'

Abigail nodded. John reached to her face and Abigail flinched. 'I won't hurt you I promise.' He pulled the gag from her mouth, then untied her wrists.

'Right, you stay with me. And I mean right behind me all the way okay?'

Abigail didn't nod, as John watched she started shaking and a pool of liquid collected at her feet. John didn't turn around; he knew who was there. As calmly as he could, he grabbed the paraffin lamp. 'Right, time to get you out of here Miss Brown,' said John as even toned as he could.

The speed with which he turned and smashed the lamp into Eric Blake's face surprised him. The eruption of paraffin and the sudden bright flames leaping eagerly onto the Collector lit the room. Laid out on the table, John briefly glimpsed all manner of implements he had no wish to know about. Eric hit the floor and screamed, John grabbed Abigail and pulled her out of the room.

Now out in the corridor, John was effectively blind, the sudden ignited paraffin had burned an image into his eyes. He groped along the corridor trying to find his way out, Abigail tripped and fell in their haste. John picked her up, a lightweight, skin cool. A sudden lump rose in his throat at the thought of Charlie and how he used to carry her around.

His limited sight started coming back to him as he ploughed on down the dim, dank corridor. A shrill bell rang above, then the sound of boots and people running echoed.

'Give it back! Give it back you thieving fucking bastard!' Eric screamed from behind them. 'Give it back or I'll rip your fucking head off I swear.'

John's heart sped at the rage in Blake's voice. 'Keep quiet Abigail, don't let him scare you. I'm here, I'll protect you. I promise.'

Abigail put her hand over her mouth as the tears streamed down her face and nodded. John found another raking ladder and stopped. 'We have to go up, there's no other way.' He lifted her half way up the ladder. Surprisingly she was brave enough to immediately grab hold of the rungs, speeding upwards like a monkey. John followed.

'I've got you, you thieving bastard,' Eric growled, the voice so close it jerked a wave of shock through John's body. Blake grabbed John's leg. John kicked out but Eric held fast and yanked hard. John's fingers strained but clung to the ladder rungs, burning. With huge effort John pulled himself up towards Abigail. She was on her knees on the platform above, looking down at him, her dark blue eyes fixated on his. 'Run!' John shouted. 'Get somewhere safe!'

Eric Blake yanked hard again and this time John's fingers gave way, slippery with sweat and throbbing in protest. His back slammed against the ground and took the wind from him, just like that day long ago when he had seen the vision for the first time. For a second he saw the old lady's face, her empty eyes, felt her fingers digging into his wrists. The thought was horrible enough to kick him into action, but a little too late.

A solid boot struck his face while he attempted to lift himself from the ground. The Collector flipped John onto his back with a strong hand. John pulled his arms over his face and Eric knelt on top of him, raining punches down on his face. The man's fists were big as ham sticks, 'I set the emergency alarm off, no fucker will hear you scream down here.' Blake screamed at John.

'I'm going to fucking kill you. I have dreamed of you; I have been warned.' He punched down again, the blow catching John in the forehead. 'You were younger in my dreams.' Punch. 'But your eyes are the same.' Punch. 'Time to die.' He looked up. 'Did you hear that you fucker? Your man dies today!'

Sem's voice floated into his head. 'Just in case God doesn't hear you, I always find a fucking hard throat punch does the job.' John balled his fist and punched out catching Blake clean in the throat.

Even in the limited light John could see Blake's eyes bulge out as he struggled to breathe. A heavy metal on bone crunch smacked Blake's head to the side, his eyes rolled up and he fell off to the side.

Little Abigail Brown dropped the metal crow bar and helped John to his knees. 'Who's saving who here?'

He lifted her up on the ladder and followed her up onto the next level. The sirens were louder here as John grabbed Abigail's hand. The noise from the steel rolling up and down the building was almost deafening as the pair moved towards safety.

They both stopped in their tracks as Blake emerged from a staircase to their left. In the light John could see the damage he had taken. His face was all burned, along with most of his hair on the right hand side. Blood flowed from his head and over his shirt as he limped towards them. His twisted features and grasping hands make him look more akin to a zombie than a real person. Blake growled again, unable to get words out -- the throat punch.

John move Abigail behind him. 'This is it then,' he said, 'the final showdown. I'm saving one to save them all, I have God on my side Blake. You hear me?' He rolled up his sleeves and moved forwards.

Blake staggered off to the right, he would have fallen but managed to grab a control box hanging from the ceiling. John looked Blake up and down as he walked forward. He was injured but boy was he big. John moved forward anyway, there was only one ending to this.

Blake half smiled as he pushed himself upright, using the control box as counterbalance. He didn't realise he'd pushed the green button until it was too late. Red flashing lights erupted from above them, Blake managed to look up the instant before five tonnes of molten steel crashed down on his head.

John staggered back and fell arse first to the dirty floor. Blake was dead, Abigail was safe. He'd done it.

© Steve Ford and Joy Cronjé 2018