God's Plan

      Henry 38's eyes were opened this time by the high noon sun piercing them directly from the sky above, as he became more and more conscious of all the aches and tensions his body had accumulated. With great determination he lifted first his head, then slowly shuffled himself upright off of the ground on which he was lying, to observe his surroundings. He was lying beside a row of other whimpering bodies, laid out on blankets on the ground. Henry's eyes frantically scanned the row of bodies, until at last they recognized the still unconscious body of Elijah 47. Once Henry was sure that Elijah' chest was gently rocking up and down, his attention turned towards the huddled crowd of upright flock, making jovial noises off to his right, a stone's throw away. Their exuberant tone, coupled with the light rustling of sand in the gentle breeze of the valley, posed such a stark contrast, in Henry's mind, with the earth-sundering quake he suffered just a moment ago. Without much deliberation, Henry immediately forced his body to rise above all the pain in his joints and shuffle over to the crowd, curious to discover the source of their jubilation. After muscling his way past a few cheering flock, Henry saw and promptly understood the crowd's vigor.       It was standing in front of the crowd, surrounded by three Shepherds keeping the flock at arm's length. It stood at eye-level to the crowd, chrome plate armor shining brightly from the noon sun, shaped to resemble human skin that's been wrapped in warrior's armor and regal attire. It's anatomically sculpted metal legs stood firm while it's equally anthropomorphic metal arms spread wide open to the crowd. It's head housed a semi-humanoid facial plate, molded to resemble a kind face forever locked in a caring, empathetic smile, whose lips permanently parted far enough to resemble speech at all times. The metal cap welded to it's head was shaped like a full head of long golden hair that's been braided to look like a crown, nearly blinding Henry at certain angles. The lush red cape strapped to it's epauletted shoulders loftly swayed in the breeze, as if obediently demonstrating it's Divine majesty to the crowd. It was an Archangel.       Unlike the standard Angels Clergy occasionally borrowed for missions and chores, Archangels were few and rare to behold in person. It is said that there were only three in all of Haven: Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel. Henry had already met the Head Shepherd, the Archangel Michael, at the end of his own training period, but this one seemed much more delicately built. Archangels were the heads of all major institutions in Haven, and they reported directly to God. They were strong, agile, sophisticated, and miles more intelligent than any average flock, to say nothing of the Angel grunts beneath them. Henry now understood the sheer joy emanating from the flock around him, many of whom were probably gazing upon an Archangel for the very first time. After a good round of cheers and yells, the crowd eventually were subdued by the Archangel motioning with it's hands downward, to indicate it was prepared to speak. Though the facial plate was one solid part that did not move, there was a speaker built into the mouth, from which the Archangel's voice boomed with crisp detail. The voice was female, unlike Michael's. It was lighter, more shrill. It carried within it the occasional melodic fragment that delighted the ear. It was a strangely familiar voice.       "My dear flock, you needn't fear, you needn't worry. I am Archangel Gabriel, and I have come here to assure you that the worst of this tragic event is behind us, and the best is yet ahead." Henry's mind raced to the accusations he had heard from the mouth of Lucas 40 just the day before, but sustained them for only a moment, as the pain he was feeling made conspiratorial thinking a low priority for the moment. He continued to listen.       "That terrible earthquake was just the rare occurrence of a leak in an underground gas pipe, a forgotten relic from the Babylon that fell. Yet another artifact of their hubris and their folly, for which innocent flock of Haven had to suffer. But thanks to the will of God, and the hard work of these good Shepherds, not one soul was lost in this ordeal! More than that, God has anticipated this contingency, and so has already provided materials and tools to restore the Village completely. On their way are metal sheets to cover up that chasm in the Square, so the Market may resume next Friday, same as it ever was! We will also provide the Carpenters with fresh fabric to patch up any tents torn in the ruckus! Isn't that just grand!? Isn't our God the greatest!?"       At that provocation the crowd once again roared in cheer and celebration, the amplitude ringing violently in Henry's ears. Jarring as it was, Henry was still glad to know that relief was on the way. However, despite the pain he was still feeling all over his body, seeing the Archangel Gabriel standing resplendently before him reminded him of the other resplendent thing he saw this day. In this moment it seemed so obvious to him what this was, but he had to make sure, for the sake of his own sanity. His body shuffled past a few of the flock and his hand rose up above the heads in the crowd, plain for all to see. The Archangel spotted it, and cajoled the crowd once again to relative silence.        "Yes, you have a question, young flock? You are?" "Henry 38, your Grace. Shepherd, actually." "Ah, another protector of the flock. No doubt it was also thanks to you that some of these poor souls were saved today. You have my deepest gratitude." "Well actually, your Grace, I fell into the chasm as I was helping my friend escape." "Goodness me, I hope your friend is safe?" "Yeah, he's resting over there, but I was wondering... what happened to the other Archangel who saved us?" "The other what?" Despite the Archangel's unchanging metal face, the tone suddenly shifted in intensity within the span of that question. The crowd quieted down even further, stupefied at the prospect of meeting yet another Archangel that day. Henry, initially startled, continued anyway. "Yeah, there was another Archangel...at least I assume it was an Archangel...she jumped up from underground, it was effortless. She had blonde hair-" "Oh, I'm so sorry, my child! I completely forgot, it was me you saw down there. No doubt your memory mistook my form for a female one. Oh, you know what? I just forgot that we're also going to be sending everyone in the Village a care package! Food and pain relief for all! Now, everyone please go back to your homes, so your Clergy can go take care of these less fortunate souls!"       And just like that, after one last thunderous cheer, the crowd instantly dissipated, with each Villager simply shuffling off to their own destination. Archangel Gabriel turned around to deliver orders to the three Shephers behind him, when Henry 38 felt himself stepping up to speak to it once again. "Your Grace, I don't mean to bother you-" "Good, then you should head home as well. You've had quite the traumatic experience. Go with the grace of God, flock."       The Archangel then turned around to continue dispensing orders to the three Shepherds. Henry nearly acted on the urge to interject yet again, until he stopped himself for a second to realize what he was doing. Talking as long as he'd just done with an Archangel was practically unheard of in Haven. Even Archangel Michael said literally only as many instructions as was necessary to complete training for his Shepherds, but here Henry was, having a full-on back-and-forth conversation with another Archangel, demanding answers as if he was it's equal. He could only guess the boldness of Lucas 40's claims must have slightly tainted his better judgement. He shuddered at the thought, and instead decided to help with the relief efforts for the flock.       After a few minutes of tending to the wounded still lying on the ground, Henry 38 heard the familiar click-clacking of Angel legs. He looked up and spotted a small group of Angels and Nuns poking out from the zenith of the nearby dune, slowly approaching the scene. As Henry's head turned once again to face his flock in need, he spotted something peculiar out form his peripheral vision: The Archangel Gabriel was staring at him, from across the gathering. It's head stood completely motionless and fixated on Henry, who met it with awkward deference, unsure of whether or not to be nervous. The Archangel then instantly jumped up and actvated the fires under it's feet, soaring into the sky at blinding speed, kicking up a tiny shockwave of dirt in his wake. Just like that, within seconds, the Archangel Gabriel was gone from view, leaving Henry dumbfounded on the valley.       Henry chose to stay for a little while longer, until one of the Angels was tasked with carrying Elijah 47 back to the Hospital. As he was watching his friend be carried away, a heavy hand plopped down on his shoulder. He turned around to see it was George 64, one of his colleages, with a reassurring look on his face. The Georges distinguished themselves among the flock of Haven by having dark brown skin, and being almost always a good half-foot taller than most flock, and almost always sporting a prominent stubble or beard on their face (unless unable to grow facial hair). George 64, who was one of the few flock older than Elijah 47 Henry had ever met, was an exceptionally charming example, despite the strange growths and slight swelling on his upper body. He wore his smooth shaved head and chiseled stubble with a confidence Henry could only admire.       "Hey, don't worry Henry. Your buddy will be alright. They're just gonna check his vitals, give him some pain relief. He'll be back home in no time." "Yeah...you're right. I guess I should head home..." "Yeah, take the rest of the day off. You want me to get you off duty tomorrow too?" "No, no, it's fine. I'm not so banged up." As soon as he said those words Henry winced internally at his own shooting pain, and immediately regretted his decision. "Well alright then. See ya around, Henry." "See ya."

* * *

      As the sun continued to scorch the earth directly from above, Henry slowly shuffled back to the Clergy Motel, which was predictably more abuzz with gossip and chatter from neighbors all around the scaffolding. As they noticed him stepping up on the stairs, some of his neighbors flocked towards Henry with a smattering of curious queries. "Hey, you were there at the earthquake, right?" "Did you see Archangel Gabriel? It was there, right?" "Was it tall? Did it sound kind?" "Did anyone get hurt?" "I heard that Gabriel personally went down to save you. How lucky." "Did it pick you up in his arms?" "Did you speak to it?" "How did it feel when it saved you?" To Henry this was all just an irritating cacophony of noise, and yet, when he finally got behind his front door, slammed it shut, and slid down to it's base, the peace and quiet he thought would soothe him had only succeeded in focusing his mind on that last question he heard.       "How did it feel when it saved you?"       Henry has hallucinated before. He's taken pills, been knocked hard in the head, been drowsy from insomnia. It was perfectly likely that he was misremembering what he saw that morning. And yet... he couldn't shake the feeling that what he saw wasn't just a hallucination or a jumbled memory, distorted by the concussions he received underground. He saw a beautiful young woman, with radiant golden blonde hair, and sparkling emerald green eyes. He saw her sharp cheekbones, her short and slender nose, the stern look of determination in her eyes. He saw the tension in her body, paradoxically soft and solid to the touch, as if to nurture and reassure him of his own security. No matter what anyone might have said, Henry just couldn't believe that that was Archangel Gabriel. They looked nothing alike. Sure the Archangels certainly held a closer resemblance to Humans than regular Angels, but an Angel of such a close resemblance to the flock would surely be impossible. Maybe she wasn't an Archangel at all... maybe she was some kind of different creature entirely... maybe she was... Babylonian.       The shooting pain in Henry's side reminded him that he had been sitting against his front door for minutes now. He decided to leave the matter alone for a while until he could administer himself a nice bath and a comfortable nap to soothe the aches. He ran the hot water faucet on his bathtub, threw his clothes and backpack onto the ground, and climbed inside the warm water, resisting the initial sting of heat to let his body acclimate. And so he lay there, arms resting on either side of his bathtub, stewing in the pleasant warmth of the water... and failed to relax. Every so often, when he thought his mind was sufficiently eased, it would just jump right back to focusing on the image of that young flock. It's as if the memory of her had been permanently etched into his eyelids, into the front of his mind, so that no matter where he'd turn, whether or not he'd shut his eyes, the only thing he'd see would be her. That radiant stranger who saved his life, and that of his friend. The one who rose from below, and shone up above. He needed to see her again, if for no other reason than to confirm that she was real, that perfect people like her do really exist in this world.       Henry forced himself out of the tub a while later, by which point the sun was beginning to set on the Clergy Motel. Despite his fixation, Henry did feel his body get loose under the weight of that bath. With one final lunge Henry plopped himself down on his bed, where he remained for the rest of the evening. The last thoughts Henry consciously formed in his head, before drifting off into the effervescent whimsies of his dreams, were simple affirmations that when he'd wake up once again, his mind would clear up, and everything would turn out alright.

* * *

      When Henry opened his eyes once again, he was surprised to discover the room was still dark as night. He turned over to look out the window, and gazed upon the starry night before him. His intuition was telling him that something wasn't right, and it was only when he turned back around to look towards his front door that he realized why. George 64 was standing in his room, leaned up against the nearby wall in his standard issue coat. At the moment they made eye contact, Henry noticed the index finger George 64 had pressed against his lips, and so he made efforts to stifle his own gasp. George then dropped his finger and began to whisper. "Bet you didn't expect to see me so soon again, huh? I'm as surprised as you are." "Wait, am I-?" "No no, you're not a Bounty. God just asked to talk to you in person. Said it's got some questions for you. I've been asked to escort you to the Hospital." "Oh...well alright then. Give me a moment to get dressed." "Sure thing. I'll be outside."       As George stepped back out, Henry groggily stood up and reached for his own coat from the closet nearby. Despite George's reassurances, Henry still felt the distinct sting of panic in the back of his head. Had he done something wrong? Did God finally find out about all his expeditions into the Ruins of Babylon? Or perhaps he had somehow found out about his conversation with Lucas 40. Perhaps it had something to do with...       After splashing his face with water and getting dressed, Henry stepped outside his own room into the crisp night air of the valley. Persistent as the warm winds were, they did little to offset the now frigid air that bristled against Henry's skin. An involuntary shiver from Henry prompted both men to step down onto the ground, where Henry was met with another surprise. There was an Angel standing by near the Motel sign, stoic in it's stance. It locked on to Henry as soon as he got within spitting distance, eye glowing intensely at him. As the Angel was loading up the taser slot of it's right arm, George quickly intervened. "Target is Compliant! Compliant damnit!"       That second utterance of the word was the one that subdued the Angel back into a passive stance. For a moment Henry felt insulted, but he then reminded himself that George 64 was a devout Shepherd, playing it 'by the book' as he once heard Elijah 47 say. So assuming George had good reason to anticipate resistance from Henry, he shrugged and continued to follow George to the Hospital, with the Angel in tow. After a few awkward minutes of walking in the dead of night, George decided to speak up.       "Hey, sorry about the Angel. Just a bit of insurance, they said. I told them there's no way Henry 38's gonna run. They didn't listen. You know how the Head Clergy is." "Yeah, of course... but I got nothing to worry about, right?." "Of course. Just a few questions and then you'll be back home in no time."       Henry's mind sharpened at the words that just entered his ears. He recalled, in detail, the exact words he told Lucas 40 only several days prior. He recalled the brazen confidence with which he said them, and he remembered Lucas' face when the Angel took him away, staring at him as if to accuse him, as if to condemn him for his failure to understand.       Henry tried to suppress it as well as he could, but a new thought suddenly took residence in his mind, unable to leave or let him be: Was Lucas 40 onto something?       No, he couldn't be, it was just too crazy. And besides, doubt is a sin, and the enemy of Haven. Henry pressed down on his mind to forget this foolish notion, and instead chose to focus on the Hospital, which he could easily identiy in the distance from the brightly lit neon letters glowing in the dark of night. "Alright. Here we go."