Note: My gratitude to those readers who have followed my little story so far, especially those who have gifted me with reviews. Here's a little gift to someone who requested a little sensual [pun intended] pleasure. A slice of life … a diversion from the road. Not exactly what you were looking for … yet … but a taste [pun intended] in the meantime. We'll get there … or as Gabriel says … 'soon.'
Chapter 50
Sometimes it really … stank … to still have enhanced angel senses instead of limited human senses…
"What is that … stench!" Lena protested, fanning her nose and pretending to swoon.
"Stockyards," Gunn said. "Although I've never smelled them get this bad. The USDA musn't be making the big corporate feedlots clean up their acts anymore."
"USDA?" Jose' scoffed, his body displaying the strange, nervous, tremors he often exhibited when addressing another homo sapien directly without the buffer of a webcam. "Doc Pasala said the heavenly host totally wiped out DC!"
"At least the Father did something right," Gunn said, giving Gabriel a wolfish grin. "Wiped out all the politicians."
Gabriel growled something noncommittal under his breath. Although he had formally changed his allegiance to defend the Savior, he still loved the Father with all of his heart. A deeply flawed, vengeful, often capricious father, but still the only Father he had ever known. A year and a half with the Prophet had desensitized him to blasphemy, but fourteen billion years of habit die hard. Bad-mouthing the Father instinctively caused Gabriel to raise his hackles, even when it was the truth. Gunnlaeif was aware of his conflicted feelings... and appeared to enjoy walking that fine line between ribbing Gabriel and arousing his anger.
"Amarillo was just another death zone," the Reverend pointed out, reminding them of their not-too-welcome reception. "No marketable natural resources for trade. Not enough land or water to feed people once the supply chain collapsed. No one left there but criminals and gangs."
"Santa Fe was just we's criminals and gangs," Jose' reminded him. "Maybe we's shoulda stuck around long enough to convert em'all?"
"You saw what they did to the gang member who told them to leave us alone," the Reverend reminded him, his eyes troubled. "I suspect anyone with a shred of human decency got the hell out of Dodge as soon as the Aryan Brotherhood rose to power. Between the neo-nazi's, the survivalists, and the Klan, this state is a powder keg waiting to explode."
After the mishap at Amarillo, they'd decided to avoid former cities and settlements unless the compass rose led them directly into those areas. Since then, they'd had numerous similar run-ins. The Lone Star state had some limited petroleum products, just not for the common man. Only predators using souped-up, heavily armed motor vehicles appeared to have found sources.
"Time grows short," Audrey said, her eyes hollow and haunted. Last night's vision had been another bad one, necessitating Gabriel seek out Gunn to administer first aid to a claw mark needing a couple of stitches. "Everything is accelerating. The Savior won't have time to physically mature before he needs our help. We have to get all the pieces of the puzzle into place before it happens."
"We're going as fast as we can, my love," Gabriel murmured, protectively raising one wing to shield her from the worst of the midday sun which pounded down upon them in all its September glory. "I saw railroad tracks at the edge of the city just past the stockyard. Dot gov said they've heard rumors of a working railway."
Gabriel was worried about her. Rain had not come to the land and settlements with a reliable source of water had been nearly as scarce here as when they had wandered the Mojave desert. Gabriel spent many hours each day flying afar to survey ahead and search for the precious liquid. His little Prophet appeared to be worse for the wear for his absence. There were some days it seemed as though, without him at her side, some succubus was draining the life force from her body.
"Klu Klux Klan and skinheads," Gunn said, referring to the roving gangs of neo-nazi's they seemed to keep encountering wherever they went. "Not your typical consumer of fine beef products."
"And I thought Salt Lake City was Intolerance-R-Us," Lena said. "The Mormon elders are practically spouting rainbow slogans in comparison. I'll never gripe about them again if I ever return there."
"I don't see why a stockyard would still be functioning," the Reverend said. "No way to get grain shipped in to feed the cattle. No way to get beef shipped out to market. Not all that many mouths left alive once you get them there to feed."
"The railroad?" Lena suggested. "I've seen lots of them big ol' longhorn cattle roaming around loose. Maybe some of the ranchers out here have banded together to ship them to one of the big cities?"
"The old Southern Pacific routes piece together as far as Louisiana and the Mississippi," Gunn said. "It's all local trains tying local markets that have been cobbled together so far. Jose'? Has dot gov gotten any word of any organized supply chains that would ship grain in to support a large scale stockyard out here?"
"Nope," Jose' said. "Just cattles coming out."
"I saw a lot of cattle compressed into a small area up ahead," Gabriel informed them. "Although I didn't see a train, the tracks appear to have seen recent use."
"Dot gov says someone's been shipping live cattle up the Mississippi River," Jose' said. "But they's got no connections to nobody who's in charge of things at the sending end. They's asked if we's find someone in charge, we set them up onto the uplink."
"Well something sure stinks!" Lena groused. "It smells like … baked … dead thing."
They discovered the source of the stench as soon as they got over the next rise.
"That's disgusting," Lena said, wrapping her scarf around her nose and mouth and looking away from the pile of bloated, dead cattle carcasses haphazardly piled into a hole in the ground.
"Burial pit," Gunn said. "A certain percentage of cattle never make it to market because they're sick or injured. They're supposed to cover it with enough mulch so the rotting carcasses don't stink."
"How are they feeding all these cattle?" the Reverend asked. "There's not enough natural forage for that many cows."
"Which is obvious by how many dead cattle there are," Gunn said, angrily gesturing to the burial pit. "We'd never crowd them in this much without adequate food and water!" Livestock had been one of the 'crops' raised in the Alamosa region, although never a major one. Gunn knew just enough about raising livestock to know that what they saw now was below normal standards.
"I saw no sign of human activity when I surveyed the area from the air," Gabriel said. "Just cattle."
"Somebody's taking care of them," Gunn said. "They're all fenced in. Which way are we supposed to go, Audrey?"
"This way," the Prophet said, pointing to the compass rose on her hand. Shortly after leaving Amarillo, the compass rose had swung to the south. She pointed directly towards the railroad tracks. As soon as they got there, the line pointing south disappeared.
"Now what?" Gunn asked.
"I guess we're waiting for a train," the Reverend said, dropping his backpack and plopping down to the ground with a sigh.
"Shit," Gunn said.
"Something will come along shortly," the Reverend reassured him. "Don't worry."
"No," Gunn said. "You just put your backpack down into a giant cowflap and then sat right down on top of it."
"Shit," the Reverend said, the aroma of the days-old cow patty belatedly wafting up to his nostrils.
Gabriel suppressed an inward chortle. Shit. How far he had come!
No train came that day, so they finally set up camp, gathering together some dried grasses, dried cow patties, and a few twigs from some dried out bushes to build a fire. Jose' wired up the portable satellite dish so he could uplink to the dot gov satellite and post his daily weblog. The talented young programmer recorded live video of their adventures during the day and then spliced it together each night into a broadcast which, according to dot gov, now had thousands of dedicated viewers all over the world. The ultimate reality television show.
"That's me!" Lena exclaimed at one point.
"The look on your face when you ever saw that pit full of dead cows," the Reverend teased her.
"It was like, eeeewwww!" Jose' teased, scrunching up his face and doing his best over-acted hoity-toity drag queen disgust act.
"Anybody want me to slice off a few steaks?" Gunn asked. "If you put enough chili powder on it, you won't taste the maggots."
"Eeeewwww," Lena said again, hitting Gunn in the shoulder.
It occurred to Gabriel as he soaked up the warmth of the small fire that the odd little group of disciples had become a family. His family. Vague memories, of a time before the Father had elevated his species to awareness flitted into his mind. No female angels had been elevated to awareness to fight the Grigori, only males, but if he closed his eyes and tried to remember, the relaxed banter the group shared now resonated with some forgotten core of his psyche.
There had been female angels in the garden. He was certain of it. Had he once had a family? A family that, perhaps, had birthed his kind naturally as humans did, not 'created' them from mud as the Father claimed. The similarities between his species and the humans were too numerous for it to be pure coincidence. The Father had never allowed the elevated angels back into that area of Eden to see the ones who had been left behind. Not even rumors remained. Where had he come from, really? The thoughts he entertained now were a blasphemy so profound he would have cut his own brain out of his head rather than think such thoughts two years ago, but now, he wanted to know.
"How many logged on today?" the Reverend asked, the conversation intruding back into Gabriel's consciousness.
"Six thousand, three hundred and twenty-seven," Jose' said.
"That's not enough," Audrey said. "We're not going to make it."
"That's portals," Jose' reminded her. "Most people's still sharing there's computers. They's getting together as a family or town and watching."
"Like in the 1950's," the Reverend said, and then hastily added, "not that I'm old enough to remember."
The despondent tone to his little Prophet's voice disturbed him. It was a subtlety he would have been oblivious to two years ago, but which tugged at his heartstrings now. Gabriel sat on the ground and gathered her into his arms, adjusting his wings as best he could to not get too filthy in the Texas dust. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that his species had not been bred to spend the amount of time walking and sitting on the ground as he'd been doing ever since he'd fallen to Earth.
"Are you okay?" Gabriel asked her.
"We're moving too slow," Audrey said. "The visions are getting more urgent. We need to find the rest of the pieces of the puzzle or it we won't be able to change the final outcome."
"You never want to discuss it," Gabriel said, kissing the top of her head and nuzzling her hair.
Red fiery streaks reflected off her dark brown hair, reminding him of Sheol. Tormented. It hurt his heart to see her so tormented. Audrey still refused to discuss the outcome which had her sobbing his name every night, but he was certain she was forced to witness his death. If whoever was tormenting her with these visions had sat down and planned for millennia a way to torture her, they couldn't have come up with a better plan.
"They use that which I fear most to make me do what they want," Audrey whispered. "All they have to do is ask."
"Your visions started before you began to care for me in the way you do now," Gabriel said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and tugging her back to rest against the front of his torso. "I do not think it is deliberate."
"The visions started the night I chased away the pack of coyotes," Audrey said. "Only in the beginning, they were just dreams. Barely remembered. A vague dis-ease which faded with the sunrise."
"I don't remember that night," Gabriel said. "You still hated me then."
"That was the night I decided you had suffered enough and I wasn't going to let the Father use you as his scapegoat anymore," Audrey said. "I didn't forgive you until later, but that was the night I realized you didn't deserve what the Father was doing to you."
Crickets chirped in the background, as well as the occasional mournful low of the cattle. The crescent moon had long ago chased Venus over the horizon, leaving nothing but stars in the sky unmarred by the light of human civilization.
"If he hadn't cast me down," Gabriel whispered, "I would never have known what it meant to love. Given what I know now, I would willingly suffer the same injuries all over again so long as it meant I could be with you."
"Why do you love me?" Audrey asked, turning to look into his eyes.
"When the Father ordered my species to bow down to humankind," Gabriel said, "I felt nothing but revulsion. The Father said he'd created you in his image, but I could not see it then. We were taught that believing the Father was anything but perfect and loving was blasphemy. I bowed down to humans because I loved the Father and wished to please him by being obedient, not because I cared for humankind."
"And now?" Audrey asked.
"I love the Father with all of my heart," Gabriel said. "That will never change. But I realize now he was correct when he said he created you in his image. He is every bit as flawed as humans. Perhaps even more so. How could I have missed the divine spark that was under my nose the entire time?"
"He took away your ability to feel," Audrey said.
"And you gave it back to me," Gabriel reminded her, nuzzling the nape of her neck with his nose and inhaling her scent. Even with the lingering sweat and dust, he adored her musky scent. If his little Prophet were to roll in the cow patties that littered the ground they sat on, he thought, he would still adore the way she smelled. She smelled so … tempting … it wasn't until she giggled that he realized he had succumbed to his impulse and nibbled down her neck, licking the salt from her flesh.
"Gabriel!" Audrey giggled. "That tickles!"
"I like the way you taste," Gabriel said, nipping lightly on her neck. "Until I fell, I never knew what it meant to taste." He could feel his manhood beginning to rise in interest, responding to his mild level of arousal. Not yet. Until he had some sign the Savior he had recently pledged his service to would honor his request to protect the Prophet from his sins, Gabriel would not succumb to his own desire.
It might take a while. The Savior was still very young by Earth standards. And so was his Little Prophet. Gabriel had existed since the universe began. The passage of time meant little to him...
… But he would tease her just enough to distract her from the despondency which had lingered after last night's vision like a dark cloud.
"Gabriel!" Audrey giggled as he playfully gave her a low growl and nuzzled further down her neck to the ticklish spot near her carotid artery. He licked the salt from her skin, lingering to allow his tongue to feel her pulse. Feeling. Not just emotional feeling, but also the ability to fully sense the environment around him using his skin. The Father had stolen that from him as well. Why? It felt so good to feel.
"You taste like salt," Gabriel murmured, his manhood definitely interested in the fire sprite he held in his arms.
"Come to sleep when I do tonight," Audrey whispered, deliberately adjusting her back to brush against his arousal. She was aware of the effect she had on him. "Just this once, I want to fall asleep in your arms, not just wake up there exhausted from my visions."
"You are too tempting a fruit, little Prophet, for me to resist," Gabriel said, regret tingeing his voice. "It is not time. Yet."
"I want you to make love to me," Audrey whispered, searching his eyes. "I want to teach you how to feel what it's like to be loved so completely that you feel the Earth move."
He took her hand and placed it over his heart, flattening out her palm so she could feel his heart beat through the cotton of his shirt.
"I have seen horrors which you cannot imagine," Gabriel whispered. "Things that make the invasion of the heavenly host appear tame in comparison. Things the Father would visit down upon you to punish me for disobeying his direct command. If that were to happen, my heart would shatter."
"How can it be wrong to love?" Audrey asked, anger tingeing her voice.
"It isn't," Gabriel said. "But for the first time in my very long existence, I understand what it means to have hope. Soon. I am waiting for a sign that either the Father has changed his mind, or that the Savior has become powerful enough to protect you. Until then, I will not put you at risk."
"What if I don't care?" Audrey asked, defiance entering into her voice. Her shoulders stiffened as she sat up straighter, away from the warmth he offered to her. "What if I'm willing to suffer the consequences and take my chances?"
"Then when the Grigori come," Gabriel said quietly, "I shall offer my life in battle to smite his enemies in exchange for the Father's promise that he will not do to you what he did to Lucifer's wife. So long as you are safe, I could endure all eternity in the Keep sustained by just a single memory of your touch. But if he did to you what he did to my brother's family and forced me to watch, it would destroy my very soul."
Audrey began to cry.
"Honey?" Gabriel asked.
She sobbed harder. The other disciples glanced their way. Gabriel gave them an 'I don't know' shrug and they looked away, actively pretending not to notice. Whatever the problem, they knew he would handle it.
"I don't understand," Gabriel said.
His little Prophet curled up in a fetal position in his arms, softly crying, until she finally fell asleep. In the dry autumn warmth, they had no need of tents or sleeping bags. Gabriel simply tugged her down alongside of him and covered her with his wing, waiting for the nightmarish vision to start. It would start. It always started. Whatever horror she saw in her visions each night, he understood it was nothing compared with the sorrow she was forced to feel for his inevitable death.
"There are some things worse than death, little Prophet," he whispered.
Nuzzling her neck, he inhaled her sweet, musky scent. His little Prophet didn't understand that, to a creature who had been given enhanced scent to hunt the Father's enemies, but had never before had the opportunity to experience what it meant to smell, the mere scent of her was enough to quell the hunger in his soul.
"Soon," he whispered.
Sometimes … having an enhanced angel senses was really … divine.
