Ten minutes or so later, Morgan pulls into the back parking lot of the sanctuary and puts the Corolla into park.
“Now the real test,” Morgan says. “Is Thea still here?”
She flicks a knowing expression at Gabe, then me and Braham.
When her eyes settle on Bea, the old woman leans in. “She was never going to leave, dear one. You know that. Now, get this old woman outta this beastly seat so I can find the bathroom. My peppermint tea’s caught up with me.”
I cover up my snicker as Morgan edges her eyebrows upward and the two guys on either side kick open their doors.
Reaching forward, I rest my hand on Bea’s shoulder. “I’ll help ya get outta here, Bea.”
“Thank you, Michael,” she whispers, patting the top of my hand with her frail one.
I grin back at her.
Only my Nana called me by my full name, and my momma when she wasn’t too pleased with me, gods rest both of their souls.
Scooting out of the seat, I close the door behind me and head over to Bea. She holds out her right arm, giving me something to grab onto, but it’s an awkward angle, so I bend in farther, wrapping my arm under her left shoulder to pull her forward.
She twists in her seat, rocking forward and managing to get herself mostly upright with a few loud grunts. Latching on to the side of her door, I hold her steady until she can get her cane secured in her hand.
“Thank goodness I’m vertical. Thought I was gonna wet myself right here. Now, anyone wanna point me in the direction of the nearest bathroom?” she mutters, taking off toward the back door like she’s been here a hundred times.
“I’ll take you,” Morgan smiles, taking the lead.
“Thank you, Morgan. I appreciate it,” Bea says, hobbling after her.
“She sure is a spitfire,” Gabe chuckles under his breath.
“You can say that again.” Braham says with wide eyes.
I scratch the top of my eyebrow. “So—how does all of this work? Did you guys know what you were lookin’ for? I mean with us, with Bea? Or is it all just shootin’ in the dark?”
Gabe steps forward, making his way to the back of the church, “A little of both, I guess. There are urges, insights. And other times, it’s simply a knowing that you’re on the right path. Morgan’s really the one with the gifts. She’s our bridge.”
Stepping out in front, I reach for the handle to the backdoor and open it so the other two can enter.
“Thank you,” Gabe whispers, walking past me.
Braham reaches out, butting the side of his fist against my shoulder. “Appreciate it.”
Grinning to myself, I can’t help but think things aren’t so bad. Humanity isn’t all lost. There are still some good guys with manners out there.
The door slams shut behind me as I enter the small back-room space probably used for sanctuary devotees and the priests or priestesses. It’s an unusual area—certainly not as decorated as other areas of the worship house. Mostly, it looks like a good place to hang your coat and dry your boots.
Wiping my feet on the mat, I follow the others into the inner sanctum, hoping to get to work on whatever it is we’re meant to be working on.
In all honesty, I’m not sure what the blazes is going on, but I know without a doubt, I’m here for a good reason. I’ve known it from the moment the street erupted in a sunken pile of ashes.
“Oh, goodie. Now we get to take care of Grandma,” Thea says, jabbing a thumb toward the bathrooms.
“My thoughts as well,” Braham agrees. “But at least she’s spunky.”
I take a seat beside Gabe, who watches the entire scene with discerning eyes.
“Hmmph. And I was just thinking humanity wasn’t all lost. What happened to respecting our elders?” I mutter.
Gabe shifts his gaze to me. “You’d be surprised how much humanity has forgotten. Hopefully, we can change all that.”
I furrow my brows and lean in closer. “You know more than you’re lettin’ on? I mean, about what’s really going on here?”
Gabe inhales, letting his gaze fall to his knees. “Knowing more and knowing what should be done about it are two different things.”
“Sounds like a yes to me.”
“Perhaps. But it’s also useless without context,” he says.
“Alrighty, ladies and gentlemen, is everyone ready to set to work?” Bea says, making her way through the sanctuary benches like a caned hellion.
My cheeks ball up, and my heart warms.
Gods, I love this woman.
Morgan exits the restroom behind Bea with a look I’d suppose a mother has once her child’s been successful on the potty and is happily on his or her way.
Thea grunts, “Who named you commander-in-chief?”
Bea casts a knowing look at her critic but doesn’t say a word. Instead, she shudders her head stiffly with a small, “tsk.”
“What is it you know, Bea?” Braham asks, tipping his chin up as he takes a seat.
Bea leans back, straightening out as best she can.
“Here’s the deal. The group of us needs to find a way to instill hope into this dying world—crap me, the dying universe. If we don’t, it won’t matter much since we’ll be floating in a big, black void of a helluva lot of nuthin’,” Bea says, maneuvering to the middle of the group and clutching her cane in front of her.
“And how, exactly, are we expected to add hope? I mean, it doesn’t even seem like we’re a part of this world anymore. In case you haven’t noticed, everyone around us—all the ordinary go-to-work, live-breathe-die people in this world—are gone,” Thea says.
Bea chuckles, then reaches out and pinches Thea’s upper arm. “Well, then, I guess we got our work cut out for us, don’t we?”
“Ugh,” Thea groans. “And the punches keep on rolling in.”
“Why us? Do you know?” Braham says, placing his right hand on his knee.
“This plane of existence—it’s in need of some tweaking,” Gabe offers.
“Well, gee, thanks so much, Obi Wan. That cleared things right up,” Thea says.
Gabe remains unfazed at her outburst, simply turning from her to the rest of us, “I’ve seen glimpses of our mission, but I don’t know how to bring it into being. These—” He points to a painting of man hanging from a cross. Blood spews from his side and from the place where thorns prick holes upon the top of his head. “They’re remnants. Tangible artifacts from a reality removed from our own, but somehow relevant. Somehow, that man, that reality, is necessary to the success of this one.”
“You’re telling us some dead… dying dude is going to give people hope? You’re more delusional than I thought. If anything, this is the antithesis of hope. I mean, look at him,” Thea demands, jabbing her index finger toward the painting.
“I am well aware of how it looks,” Gabe says, tipping his head in acknowledgment.
“Where did you even get this?” Braham asks.
Gabe’s forehead knits together. “As you know, our reality is a construct that can be fluid. However, the fluidity isn’t without its constraints. This place is a haven for whatever pieces we collect in our travels. For whatever reason, they have significance. We just need to figure out why.”
Bea sits atop her bench, grinning with a kind of amusement only a woman in the know can have.
“What else do you know, Bea?” I ask, zeroing in my gaze on her.
The old woman’s lips press down hard, and her nostrils flare under her exhalation. “What I know for sure is we’re being tasked with the monumental burden of altering the course of all of humanity—all of the known universe. But the undertaking won’t simply leap out and bite us on the ass. The universe wants us to excavate it. Figure out what it wants of us. Put our collective heads together and come up with a plan all on our own.”
“Why?” I ask, tilting my head.
The idea the universe has a consciousness—has the ability to want anything of us—has been an idea left strictly to the religious or
the insane among us. My background certainly contradicts as well as supports the idea. It’s an interesting juxtaposition, to be sure.
“I suppose that’s something else we’re meant to uncover,” she grins.
“The thing I know for sure; we need to find the fifth before anything else will become clear,” Morgan interjects.
“What makes us so different from, say, you guys?” Thea asks, her eyes creasing at their edges.
Morgan shrugs. “We don’t know.”
“Ugh—there seems to be a helluva a lot of dunnos happening in this place,” Thea moans. “This is utter bullshit. If I went off half-cocked, believing every lunatic who came into my office, they’d have me committed right along with them. Shit, I’m this close to committing myself at this point,” she adds, pinching her thumb and index finger within a half inch of each other.
“None of us are crazy,” Bea offers.
“And maybe dementia is your bedfellow,” Thea mutters.
Bea’s piercing blue-eyed gaze, clear and full of more self-awareness than most people I’ve known, lands squarely on Thea, who squirms under her scrutiny.
“I know you have your reasons for being dubious about what’s going on here, but if you pulled your head outta you pretty little bum, you’d realize a part of you feels the awakening happening here,” Bea says, tilting her head slightly.
Rather than refuting, Thea huffs, slumping back in her seat and staring at her feet.
“So, what you’re saying is—the only thing we know for sure right now is that we need to find this other person? Right?” I say, flitting my view from Thea, back to Morgan.
Nodding, Morgan says, “I guess so. Yes.”
“So, how do we go about finding this…person?” I ask. “Er, angel?”
“Angel?” Thea says, her eyes popping open.
“Yes, Anthea. Now you have a term tied to who and what you are. Maybe you can start processing it a bit better,” Bea chuckles.
Braham sighs.
“What is it, dear? Are we boring you with all this big-picture, cataclysmic stuff?” Bea asks, cocking an eyebrow.
Braham’s eyes dart upward. “I just… All of you seem to have this mission. This great big, prolific, world-saving stuff. All I want is to get back to my wife. That’s it. I don’t have a god complex or feel the need to be more important than I am.”
He shrugs, slumping back in defeat.
Bea taps her cane on the ground and steps gingerly over to him until her toes tap his.
“Listen here, Abraham. I don’t know where you’ve been these past few hours, but allow me to bring you to present. Your wife isn’t a player in all of this. If you wanna have any chance in Hades of seeing a future with her and your son—”
Braham’s head jerks up. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, well, shit. She hadn’t told you,” Bea sighs. “I apologize. I see things pretty clear most days, but this tapestry can be complicated to keep track of at times.”
“What do you mean?” Braham pleads, grabbing hold of Bea’s arms. “Cass was—was she pregnant?”
Bea’s entire demeanor softens in the way you expect a good therapist calms down an irate patient.
“She was—and I suspect still is, wherever she is.”
Clutching her tighter, Braham’s knuckles turn white and his hands begin to shake. “What do you mean—what does that mean?”
Gabe stands up, walking to the two of them and placing his hands atop of Braham’s.
“It means if you want your son to have a chance in this world, we need to be successful,” he whispers.
Braham pulls back his hands, opting instead to clutch at the fabric above his heart. His dark eyes have a wild ferocity, and I lean back, half expecting him to blow.
Instead, tears brim uninhibited on the rims of his eyes before he blinks them away.
“But I...” He furrows his brows until they look like they’ve merged into one. “How can she—?”
“Well, see, there’s this thing called sex. Would you like me to explain it to you?” Thea says, cracking a rare smile as she no doubt tries to lighten the mood.
Braham, however, shoots her a glare that makes her clamp her mouth shut and stare at her shoes.
“Our mission is your mission too,” Morgan says, walking over to him. “We’re all in this to save whatever reality is worth saving.”
Bringing his face to his hands, Braham shakes his head.
“If it’s any consolation, she’s still looking for you, too,” Bea offers, patting him on the leg.
He snorts in reply.
“I don’t think that’s helping,” I whisper, biting the side of my lip.
Bea shrugs sheepishly, brandishing her hands in front of her before reversing herself gently out of the huddle.
“I… I need some time,” Braham says, suddenly standing up.
“There are rooms in the basement. Why don’t you check them out and pick one as your own,” Morgan suggests, pointing toward a stairwell on the other end of the sanctum. “There are fresh linens in all of the closets.”
He laughs sarcastically, but nods in agreement.
Once the last of his footsteps can be heard echoing from the stairs, Morgan lets out a long exhalation.
“That was a doozie,” she says, turning to Bea.
“Sorry about that,” Bea says.
“You know, I think I’m gonna follow Braham. I’m not gonna get stuck with a shitty room if we’re all stuck in wacky-town,” Thea says, brushing off the tops of her pants.
Morgan tips her head in acknowledgment. “Okay. Keep an eye on him too, if you don’t mind.”
“What do I look like? A babysitter? He’s a grown-ass man. Pretty sure he can handle himself,” she says, brushing a hand out in front of her. “I trust we’ll have time to discuss all the details of—whatever the fuck it is we’re gonna do next—tomorrow.”
Morgan sighs in defeat.
“Excellent.”
Turning on her heel, Thea follows the way Braham retreated.
“So, how do we find the fifth?” I repeat, going back to my original train of thought. I’m genuinely curious, because if the world’s about to be annihilated, I’ll do whatever I can to stop it.
Morgan shudders, taking a seat beside Gabe. “I—I don’t know. Wait, I guess? I haven’t been given any instructions yet on where or when to find him or her.”
My eyebrows flick upward, and I say, “And you usually do?”
“Yeah, for the most part. I mean—I had to take more drastic measures to find the four of you. I hope all of that is over.”
“Was it that hard?” I ask, bending in, trying to take in as many details as possible.
My mind is crunching numbers in the background, trying to work out probabilities and logistics on how any kind of psychic ability can work.
“It certainly took its toll,” Gabe offers.
“Well, this sure is a downer of a tale,” Bea exhales. “Look, every single string is being pulled with a precision none of you can see. When the time is right, you’ll understand why.”
“But you do?” I say, turning to face her.
Pressing her lips tight, Bea narrows her eyes at me. The only sound flooding my ears is the thrumming of my heartbeat as silence expands across the sanctuary.
“Tidbits,” she finally declares. “But I suspect it’s more than you at the present moment.”
“Hmmm,” I mutter.
“Well, without being all doom and gloom, I have to say I hope someone gets more insights soon. The things I’ve seen—they aren’t pretty. And for the life of me, I don’t know how to stop it. I’ve tried. I’ve pressed myself to see what I can, but other than the flashes leading me to the artifacts like these” —Morgan’s hand sweeps out toward the painting again— “the only warning I get is the total annihilation of everything.”
“Maybe it’s not your place to know that specific piece,” Bea suggests. “I mean, you do carry your fair share of the burden in this mess. What i
f that part—knowing how to fix it—comes down to one of the others?”
“Others? You say that like you aren’t one of them,” Morgan chuckles.
Bea tips her head. “You know what I mean.”
“What parts do you know?” I ask, staring at Bea.
She scratches at the bottom of her chin before answering. “I know everyone here has a role.” Her eyes go distant for a moment, and she continues. “I know it won’t be solved or figured out by force, either. It’s going to arise out of necessity—out of the creative urge of inspiration. But only if everyone is on the same page. Those two need to come around, and fast, if we’re going to be successful at finding a solution.”
“Sounds like you do know more than any of us,” Gabe says, reaching out for Morgan and rubbing his hand along her back.
She leans into him, visibly relaxing and dissolving into a puddle of calmer energy at his side.
“Sounds aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” Bea winks. “Now, who’s gonna make this old woman a cup of peppermint tea and some supper? I’m so fuckin’ sick of gelatinous goop I could spit. Who do I gotta bribe to get a burger and fries around here?”
7
Morgan
When supper is all said and done, and everyone has gone off to their own spaces, I make my way to our room in the loft. Gabe follows right behind me in his typical ghostly fashion.
Kicking off my shoes, I let out a sigh. “Well, this has been a day.”
Gabe chuckles, reaching behind his neck to pull his shirt up and over his head.
“You could say that again.”
“I wonder if I should have given them more insight? You know? Pushed some of the visions I’ve had into their minds, so things made a bit more sense,” I say. “It’s a lot to hear you’re angelic beings and just never knew it.”
Gabe’s eyes go distant, and after a moment, he shakes his head. “I’m not sure if that would have helped them at this point. It might have been overload. I’d just trust your instincts. If there was a reason you didn’t do it, it was probably wise.”
I twist around on the bed, quirking my right leg and letting my left dangle to the floor. “I don’t get it, though. I mean, it’s obvious they’re the ones. But they’re so resistant.”
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