The meeting, Audrey and Gabriel discovered, had been to plan a reconnaissance expedition. The 'infected' hadn't attacked for over twenty-four hours now, and the cathedral's lodgers grew restless and hungry. In light of the news that the epidemic was over, Sheriff Eli re-evaluated the operation.
"So you're definitely sure it's all over?" He asked Gabriel, who bowed his head in verification.
"There are bodies in the streets," the archangel explained, "but they are no longer harmful."
Audrey tuned out at the word 'bodies'. She'd been trying frantically to block out the image of the dead, leering man that was burnt into her memory, and being close to Gabriel helped significantly, because he was a fantastically effective distraction, but she recognised that he had a lot of other people to look out for now, too. Quelling her discontent, she wandered off to explore.
Over the end of each of the pews, either side of the aisle, hung a brass candelabra bearing two tealights. Some were lit; some had died out in the night, but all of them held a bunch of dead, shrivelled, white gerbera daisies and baby's breath in a little cone below.
The great pillars that lined the nave were modestly embellished with sculpted ivy, and every third one featured a pointed-arched alcove near the top, accommodating a statue of a saint. Their eyes followed Audrey along the carpeted aisle as she neared the chancel.
The same desiccated, white gerberas hung limply from the three-day-old arrangements that sat upon the pedestals she passed on the way up. She counted seven steps, leaning her head back to behold the pictures painted between the vaults above. Chubby, naked cherubs frolicked happily among iconic images of Christ and his disciples, laughing and chatting among themselves; Audrey wondered what they talked about. Jesus was listening attentively to a bearded man in an olive robe, whose hands were raised as he spoke animatedly about something evidently entertaining. Maybe the punchline of a joke, Audrey speculated, or a story he heard from a farmer's wife.
The altar was bare besides the golden cross that stood in the centre on a mahogany base, matching the wood of the table. It was highly polished; the light from the massive window at the opposite end of the cathedral cast a white gleam across its glossy finish.
A rush of memories of Gabriel's kiss hit her like a tsunami. He'd set her down upon the altar so carefully; his hands had warmed her night-chilled cheeks while his lips had numbed everything else.
As she stared at the crucifix, where a miniature Jesus hung from his palms, she wondered if He would have considered it disrespectful. She leaned the heels of her hands on the table, her thoughts ambling between her growing affection for Gabriel and her severely weakened faith in God. It was honest, she concluded. There's no justifiable reason.
Glancing absently around, she noticed the chancel, which was narrower than the nave, had a small, wooden door on both sides. They'd been hidden, until now, by the drop of the giant curtain that lined the back of an ornate, wood-carved screen running across the top of the steps, a large archway at its midpoint. She straightened up and made towards the one on the right.
The door was ajar, and the familiar, flickering, orange glow of candlelight leaked through the crack and across the carpet. Upon pushing it open, she was rooted to the spot.
The small, stone room was littered with sheets of paper. They lay in clusters in the corners, on the little desk at the far end, and were tacked to the pinboard above it. Every piece was sketched across in dark pencil, and they were all of the same thing: a large tree, not unlike a Willow, except its branches grew not leaves, but tiny keys of every size, shape and shade imaginable. Venturing inside, she picked up an unfinished one from the floor, sending a pencil rolling across the floorboards.
"I'm not crazy," Jenny asserted from the doorway behind her, but when Audrey spun around in surprise, she didn't look as sure as she sounded.
"You did these?" She held up the drawing incredulously, watching Jenny nod.
"I've had that image ingrained in my mind for... well, since all this started." Audrey said nothing. "Don't you think that's weird?"
This time, she opened her mouth to answer, but Gabriel appeared in the doorway and she forgot what she was about to say. His lips parted in shock at the sight.
"Well, I think they're beautiful," Audrey declared. "What do the keys unlock?"
"Secrets," Gabriel whispered, attracting the girls' attention. His face was like poetry, telling of love, tragedy, hope and discovery.
Jenny looked from Gabriel to Audrey, her brow furrowed in perplexity, and moved towards the sketch.
"Do you know what this is?" She asked him, pointing to the swaying tree.
Gabriel was enraptured; he couldn't tear his eyes away, as if it were the portrait of an old friend, long since forgotten.
"It's the..." Remembering the story they'd wordlessly agreed upon, he stopped himself just in time. "It's a foretelling of my arrival," he told her, which wasn't completely untrue. "You're a prophet."
Jenny took a moment to absorb his announcement, then laughed. It was short-lived, however, because she realised nobody was laughing with her. She could only stare at him in disbelief.
"You... wait, hold on – you're telling me this image... came from God?"
Gabriel cocked his head to one side in consideration.
"Not exactly."
"Not exactly?" Jenny repeated.
"I cannot tell you what I don't know," he answered truthfully.
"But you're the Messenger of God... surely messages from God are like, your area of expertise?"
He would have smiled, had it not been for the sticky situation he found himself in. There was no way to tell her what he did know without letting on the lie. He looked to Audrey for help. She looked as confused as Jenny, but nodded in acceptance: she'd have to know.
"The people who attacked you were not victims of a pandemic," he admitted, watching her face carefully. "They were victims of the Lord's wrath."
She didn't speak, or even move.
"They were possessed by angels," Audrey elaborated, "on God's orders. They were sent to wipe us out."
Jenny's head whipped around to face her now. She didn't look upset, but furious. Her attention snapped back to Gabriel as he spoke again.
"My brother, Michael, managed to convince him otherwise-"
"But don't be angry at him," Audrey interrupted, desperately hurrying to get everything out before she exploded. "I was the one who started the lie. I just couldn't tell them... how do you break something like that?"
Her justification softened Jenny's features a little, but she still didn't look particularly pleased.
"So what's the significance of the tree, really?" She asked evenly.
"It's the tree of knowledge."
Both his confidantes' faces drained of expression.
"The tree Adam and Eve ate from?" Audrey asked, dumbfounded. "But what's with the keys?"
"They're metaphorical," Gabriel explained. "They represent the fruit it bears."
"Because of the key role it played in humanity's fall from grace?" Jenny deduced, her anger forgotten among the nuggets of divine information.
"Because the fruit of knowledge is answers," he clarified. "God imbued that tree with everything he knew, in the hope that it would develop solutions to problems unhindered, and grow with each new thing He learned. Adam and Eve ate fruit from the tree before it was ripe."
As Audrey looked down at the tree's sweeping branches once more, a head appeared in the doorway.
"You guys ready to go?" Eli asked.
"We'll be there in a sec," Jenny told him.
He gave a brief nod and disappeared again, and Gabriel stepped forward to place a hand on Jenny's shoulder.
"I'm truly sorry for deceiving you," he professed, "I hope you can understand that it was only out of concern."
She shrugged and nodded, looking around.
"I guess I would have done the same." Turning to Audrey, she held out her hand. "You coming with us?"
"Yeah," she answered, before Gabriel had time to disapprove.
Taking Jenny's hand, she started forwards, slipping her other into Gabriel's on the way past. They threaded through the door one by one, past the altar and stopped at the top of the chancel steps, where Eli gathered the dozen or so who were tagging along. Jenny entwined her fingers with Eli's, and together, lined up before God, they made an unstoppable force of righteousness.
Folding into a 'V', Gabriel and Eli led the way down the aisle towards the door, where the old priest unfastened the various bolts and barricades. Samson trotted along below Audrey and Jenny's clasped hands, so tall they brushed against his soft, sandy coat.
The morning sunlight was crisp and warm; their shadows followed in a long train behind them as they walked along the palm-bordered path. Gabriel turned left at the end as he and Eli had discussed, and the group crossed the street heading for the smashed doors of a supermarket on the other side. Even from the middle of the wide road, Audrey could already make out the prone form of a dark-haired woman just inside.
The procession slowed upon realising this, but she tightened her grip on the two hands feeding her courage and took a steadying breath. It's over now, she reminded herself as she received two reassuring squeezes.
In the shade of the building, Audrey's vision was tinged with blue as her eyes adjusted from the tangerine hue of the sun. Gabriel and Eli stepped forward to roll the body onto its back, preparing to take an end each and move it outside, but both of them dropped their grip on it when they saw her. Eli jumped back, horrified; Gabriel threatened another episode of sorrow.
The woman was Southeast Asian with sleek, black hair and porcelain skin. Around her head she wore a lilac bandana, tied into a knot at her nape. Her eyes were frozen wide open in terror and one half of her lower lip had been torn away by the tiny, razor-sharp teeth of the infant she cradled. The baby had a bullet wound just above its ear, and the mother had a few to the chest, while the floor was covered in casings and blood.
Several people backed up and ran for the cathedral as fast as their legs would take them. Jenny pulled Audrey close, one hand over her mouth, but the scene was wavering before her; she had to get away. Detaching herself and staggering past the transfixed sheriff, Audrey found herself an abandoned cart and leaned over the handlebar as it skidded away into the store, Samson at her side.
She turned a corner absently and closed her eyes tight, concentrating on the tapping of Samson's claws against the tiles, trying to forget. They were even and rhythmic as she listened, and the wheels of the cart squeaked in time, until they hit an obstacle in the middle of the aisle.
Shit. Her heart pounded and she felt as though every vein in her body was fit to burst as she heard the defensive snarl spill from Samson's chest. Shit, shit, shit.
Gripping the cart tighter, she opened her eyes.