The Revelation of Gabriel Adam (31 page)

“
This
room is the Tabernacle of God. And
that
,” he said, pointing to the archway, “is the ark.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Energy, as palpable as the desert heat, came in rolling waves that traveled across the floor like a ghostly mist from the entrance to the Ark of the Covenant. The door to the ark seemed alive, the motion of its liquid gateway rippling to the rhythm of Gabe’s beating heart. “Can you feel that?”

The mist moved over their bodies, drifting over their skin, connecting them. He felt fear and excitement, and as Micah looked at him, Gabe felt the spark of all that he’d hoped had not died within her, and these feelings were as real as his own.

“Yes,” Micah said and gave him a knowing smile.

“I thought you’d given up.”

She shook her head and shrugged. Her gaze drifted toward the ark. “I can hear thoughts in my head. Thoughts that aren’t mine.”

He could hear them, too. Voices filling him with knowledge and urges and an understanding of everything before him. It was as if he were a child wanting to ride a bike for the first time but being able to do so without anyone showing him how.

“It’s like I just know. It wants us to enter,” Micah said.

Another wave of warmth rolled out from the liquid, calming and welcoming. It moved over them, hushed whispers filling the air as it passed, and Gabe felt the fear and anxiety leave his body. The ark called to them, beckoning them to step beyond the doorway.

Gabe stood and helped Micah to her feet. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Together?” She reached out.

“Together.” He grabbed her hand.

They took a step in unison toward the arch. The liquid called out, inviting them into its mystery.

Gabe looked at Micah, at her lips, and felt her longing. A question hung in the air between them, and inside he felt the desire to know the answer. But in her eyes, he found a shard of doubt.
Bad timing
, they seemed to say. She drew back, perhaps only a millimeter, but it was enough to steal Gabe’s confidence.

Her thumb traced the contours of his knuckle, and she offered a conciliatory smile.

She turned to the undulating barrier of the ark. Together they walked into the liquid.

It embraced them and took them in, but he remained dry.

Deeper into the emptiness of the ark, a path appeared at their feet. It led to something dark but substantive—a room, Gabe thought, but he could not see it clearly through the blur of liquid surrounding him. Then the path seemed to split, forking in another direction toward a bloom of white light. He felt drawn to it.

They continued forward, but where the path became two, Micah’s footing failed. She fell, caught in the gravity of the dark room. Her hand slipped from his, and they were torn apart, Micah crying out as she disappeared in the fading room. His path now separate from hers, Gabe struggled against the pull of the light, desperate to go back and save her, but he could not escape the gravity that held him. He reached out again, cursing himself for being too weak.

His body then lifted from the path and tumbled toward the blinding white. There, he felt a presence nearby, surrounding him, too great to be Micah.

The light grew, as did its warmth. Gabe felt as though he were falling into the sun, but instead of heat, he felt embraced in happiness, and all his fears of losing Micah were swept away. His body relaxed, he was no longer able to keep his eyes open, and he felt like he was drifting into sleep.

His body seemed to twist, contorting into a comfortable position. Gabe felt something cradle his legs, and he quickly realized that he was sitting in something. The warmth of the light faded. The sound of voices filled the air, words he recognized. A horn honked somewhere, and a door chimed. He opened his eyes and saw the plush leather chair beneath him, pulled up to a familiar tall table.

Impossible
, he thought.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans. The sounds of milk steaming behind the bar and spoons clanked against the inside of mugs, stirring in sugar and cream.

Not memories but real.

Gabe sat at his favorite table at The Study Habit Café near New York University. Students and customers went about their everyday lives, drinking various beverages and reading magazines or studying for class.

Stacked neatly atop his table was a collection of college textbooks from courses he never had the opportunity to take—sociology, business law, and other literature. Beside them, a notebook and an uncapped pen waited to be used with lessons and outlines scribbled inside the pages in handwriting he recognized as his own.

Coren approached his table, smiling her unforgettable smile as she held her notepad and tray. “Have you finally figured out what you want? The usual today or something else?”

“Where am I? What’s going on?”

She put aside her tray and notepad and sat down at his table. At once, her jovial demeanor evaporated like the steam from the half-drank caramel macchiato beside his books. “Do you not know, Gabriel? You are where everything your heart desires can be found. A life of infinite normalcy. Of infinite possibilities. Education. Career. Here you may become a doctor or a lawyer. Anything you want to be in life. In this world is found the beginning of what you have lived all your life to attain.”

Gabe considered the scene around him, and for a moment he felt like he could reach out and grab his dreams.

“Love and happiness—a family in the future, perhaps. Possessions and money—all the things you have ever wanted in life. Is this not what you seek? Your
usual
? Do you not desire this most in your heart?” Coren asked.

These things were in his heart—that much was undeniable. The desires did exist, he realized, but not in a vacuum.

“I do want this,” he said. “But I want this in a reality that no longer exists.”

“Does it not? Do you not trust that the world will right itself again? That God will not correct that which is out of order? Look around you. Can you not see a future that is attainable?”

Gabe observed the café. Faces on some of the customers began to change. The space around a man in a business suit holding a briefcase shifted, blurred. His face became an older version of Gabe’s—grayed and distinguished. Another man, who wore hospital scrubs, sat at a table nearby and chatted with a woman. His face changed as well, also mirroring that of Gabe’s—smiling, happy, and older.

“No, this is not what I want.”

“Are you certain? Look again.”

The front door chimed, and a woman entered. Black hair flowed in her wake, trailing behind her unmistakable beauty. Micah, older now and somehow more refined in her dress suit, approached his business-suited doppelganger and kissed him to begin a conversation. They carried on touching each other, flirting and laughing at unheard jokes.

Gabe stared at the couple, the possibilities swirling in his mind.

“Yes,” Coren said, “you know what you want. Do not be afraid. You can have it. All of it. You simply must choose to accept, and it will be yours. I can give you everything you want. A life unencumbered by stress and conflict. A life of peace and serenity. Lust and love wrapped into one. Success of unimaginable proportion, free from the trials of failure. A long life, filled with happiness and satisfaction. All you need to do is ask, and everything will be as you desire.”

The temptation was strong, but he thought of Micah’s kiss in the tabernacle. The love he felt in the kiss was real. Gabe could still feel her lips on his. But this also felt real.

“Who are you?”

“I am simply a giver of gifts. A provider. You need only ask, and everything as you see it now and as you envision for yourself can be attained. Take control, and all the pain that is done will be undone.”

The door chimed again. Richard entered, healthy and alive, followed by Gabe’s father. They smiled and laughed as they ordered coffee from the barista. Carlyle soon followed. Micah rushed to embrace him.

Gabe’s heart tore apart at the sight of her smile.

“I can restore them,” Coren said. “All can be made right in
your
world. All the horrible futures you’ve seen, all the despair and war can be calmed. All the tragedies for those you love can be erased. Your world will be one of peace and order. Of light and hope, unhindered by the darkness and burdens you have seen. These broken pieces will be mended. Those you love most will be saved and live as they would had all the perils you have come to know been removed from it. No war. No suffering. And you will forget the hate you have come to witness in the world
you know now
. You and your loved ones will be burdened only with happiness. In
your
world the heavens and Earth will finally be at peace. But
you
must make the choice.”

Gabe looked around the room, weighing the offer. Thoughts raced through his mind. With one simple choice, he could bring peace to his world.

My world
, he thought. Deep inside, he felt a disconnection between her offer and what he’d left behind. “My world
is
the world
I know now
. What you offer is a lie.” He motioned to the café. “This isn’t real.”

“It is not a lie,” she said. “It is as real as the chair in which you sit. As real as the books on this table, and it will be real for those you love. Their reality will merge with yours in your world.”

“No. I am an archangel. That’s real. And if that’s my reality, then so be it. I may want these things but not at the expense of my duties. Not at the expense of what I owe
my
world
and not at the expense of the truth.”

“God will forgive you. That, I can promise.”

“Maybe, but I couldn’t forgive myself. I choose what has been destined for me, regardless of whether or not I want it. I choose to fulfill my duty.” Gabe stood from the table in defiance of Coren’s offer.

Her eyes narrowed, and the airy softness of her demeanor hardened. “Even at the sacrifice of yourself?”

“If that’s my destiny, then yes.”

“And if the ones you love are sacrificed because you choose not to save them now, would you deny them peace and happiness? You would give them up to a death of unmentionable horror should you fail your duties?”

“We
won’t
fail. But even if we do, we’ll die knowing that we did everything we could. My decision is made. You can stuff
your
world. All the things you offer would do nothing but ensure victory for our enemy,” Gabe said. “And if that is what you intend, then you are also my enemy. I’ll do whatever is in my power to stop your darkness from spreading to my world. Whatever it takes.”

Coren leaned back in her chair. “A human’s understanding of time and space is as predictable as it is simplistic. Yet you never cease to surprise me with the unbound measure of your heart. If only more were like you, my dearest Gabriel. Fortitudo Dei indeed. Truly, there is strength inside you.

“However, I am not your enemy,” Coren said, and a smile, warm like the summer, drifted across her lips. “Nor do I wish for darkness on the Earth. I wish for Light.”

The room slowed and then stopped. Coren stood, and her skin began to glow. Light brought forth in rays like the sun through clouds. It spilled out, growing brighter, its streams crashing into the walls and knocking them open to the city to reveal an endless white sky above. Tables and chairs, people and cars were struck by her rays and sent into the heavens.

Gabe put his arms up to protect himself, but the floor crumbled away to reveal a glowing white abyss. He plummeted into the void until he felt the embrace of warmth again.

“Go forth, Gabriel,” said the echo of Coren’s voice. “And have faith that you are that which you are.”

Gabe twisted through the light as he fell, then landed on hard ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to see the ladder in the tabernacle. He lay on his side in an awkward position with his right arm caught underneath.

“Gabe!” Micah’s voice reassured him. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Gabe struggled to catch his breath. He looked around and no longer saw the mist covering the floor. He also no longer felt Micah’s emotions. Whatever psychic connection the ark had built between them had been broken.

“Here, let me help you up. Can you move?”

“I think so.”

Micah extended her hand and pulled him up with surprising strength. Then she gasped. “Look at your hand.”

He turned his palm out.

On his middle finger was a gold ring, its sheen faded from time. A curved stone set flush with the band and glistened in the light of the arch. In the jewel shined a small, engraved pentalpha.