God's Plan

      Of all three Archangels, Michael bore the closest resemblance to the standard Angels that Henry 38 was familiar with. It had the same towering bulky frame, the same exposed hydraulic pumps operating it's makeshift legs, the same wide, double-reinforced steel frame. It was distinct in only two evident ways. First, the head-piece where the typical red eye would rest on a standard Angel was partially sculpted to resemble a more Human-like form, with cheekbones, nose, and even mouth parts bent into shape on the metal sheet that was Michael's face. The eye-screen shone two distinct red lights, as opposed to the usual single one. Second, whereas the typical Angel would carry an arsenal of roughly three or four standard weapons on either arm, Michael's weapons platform was considerably more impressive: not only did each of it's arms carry several different kinds of weaponry Henry was entirely unfamiliar with, but it's entire back seemed to be riddled with a barrage of deadly machines, the function of which Henry could only imagine.       Besides the standard taser, net, and ammo-based weapons Henry had seen in use many times before, he had seen only one other weapon on display, during one of the sermons that would occur once a month back in Haven. At the end of the sermon, when the sun had just set, exposing the starry night sky, the Archangel Michael raised the shoulder-mounted cannon on it's left shoulder, and shoot a radiant beam of gleaming, multi-colored light up into the night sky. It would soar effortlessly upward, echoing only a faint whistling noise as it disappeared from view, and then suddenly would explode into a vibrant flurry of light and color, shaking the earth below, then illuminating it for only a few seconds before giving way to the night. It was one of the most beautiful things Henry had ever seen, as he was being reminded now, seeing the unmistakable silhouette of the Archangel Michael rushing through the Ruins of Atlanta.       Realizing that he was much too high up in the air for Archangel Michael to be able to hear him, Henry instantly hopped aboard Kawasaki, started the engine again, and raced down the main stairway to greet him. He was hoping that the roaring of the Stallion's engine might alert the Archangel to his presence, but didn't want to take any chances regardless. Sloppy as his descent might be, Henry made good time riding his way down the stairway, and straight out the main door, making a hard right turn around the plateau beneath. As he slid across the sandy rubble, pulling the throttle down with all his might, he was startled to see the towering frame of the Archangel standing there in the middle of the clearing, on a perfect collision course. In the split-second reaction, Henry let go of the throttle and pushed hard on the brakes, which had the unexpected side-effect of tossing his entire body forward off the Stallion, tumbling down and skidding across the jagged earth towards it's eventual resting place several meters ahead. 'Wow, those are strong brakes' Henry thought to himself as he was slowly regaining his bearings. S his head was letting go the need to keep spinning and ringing, Henry looked up and discovered where he was: lying just beneath the Archangel's feet.       He sheepishly got up and took a few steps back, readying himself for whatever kind of dialogue he was about to have with the Archangel. At this point, Henry wasn't sure whether Michael was there to provide Henry with reinforcements for his assigned mission, or to admonish him for his failure to complete it. Was Henry to be sentenced to time at the Hospital for his failure? After everything he had learned in the past two days, nothing seemed certain anymore. He was determined to get at least some answers from Archangel Michael, one way or another.       Henry had completely composed himself when he realized that Archangel Michael was not speaking. Only his piercing red eyes shone directly at Henry from their visor, cold and unnerving. It was customary for the Archangel to speak first, and yet for some reason neither of them uttered a word in that awkward silence. Henry was actually starting to get somewhat worried, perhaps considering that there might be something wrong with the Archangel. Perhaps his presence here in the Ruins of Atlanta was merely a product of a rare malfunction, entirely unrelated to Henry's quest. He's never seen the Archangels in anything but peak performance, but they were still mechanical like the Angels they controlled. Perhaps, like them, the Archangels were slowly getting rusty too, and perhaps this one was having problems with navigation. He decided to test this theory by speaking first. "Umm... it's good to see you again, Archangel. What... brings you out here to the Ruins-" "Where is the girl!?" Henry was surprised to hear a female voice emanating from the Archangel. It had always been male up until this moment. "Well... you see, I did make contact with God's daughter, but then I asked her to come back to Haven with me, and she got upset and left. I don't know where she is now." "You mean you lost her?" There was now something else that caught Henry's eye: since the conversation started, the Archangel had not moved even one bit. It's body was just standing there, rigid, motionless. One of the distinguishing features of the Archangels was the ease and grace with which they moved their metal frames, presenting as more Human than Angel. This frame certainly was the shape of Archangel Michael, and yet seeemed somehow alien, inert. It was as if Michael had forgotten how to operate it's own body. "Well that's just fucking great. Now we gotta lure her in somehow." "Please forgive me, Archangel. She didn't take any of my food, and she'll get hungry or thirsty eventually. We can wait for her to come back-" "Shut the fuck up- What? Don't you shush me! What are you doing, Soph? Just get rid of this one, he's useless now!"       That last phrase, aside from it's sudden change in tone, was said by a male voice.       All of a sudden, Henry's mind raced to the story that Lucas 40 told him days prior, of Archangel Gabriel speaking with multiple voices as if two people were having a conversation over speaker. The memory of his categorical dismissal suddenly hurt Henry to recall, as he was experiencing the very same thing in real time. But more than that, the fundamental emotion Henry felt at this moment was abject terror.       Michael suddenly started moving, lifting his left arm up towards Henry's torso. As the weapons systems rotated on the arm's axis, lifting the machine-gun turrent up to the active position, Henry couldn't help but simply observe what was happening. His instincts were telling him to run, and yet he could not, for his conscious mind could not yet process the revelation before him. What possible reason could there be for the good Archangel Michael, the Head of all Shepherds, protector of Haven, servant of the one true God, to just decide to shoot his most loyal Shepherd? Surely this was some kind of misunderstanding. These, and other frantic thoughts ran through Henry's mind, as his legs still refused to remove him from the direct line of sight for the machine gun now pointing directly at his chest.       Of all of the things that could have done it, the sound of the machine gun barrel winding up to shoot him dead finally burst the bubble in Henry's mind. A rare moment of clarity swept over him, truly the very first one in his life, ironically just as it was about to end. God really didn't care about his flock. It probably isn't just one entity, but a group of Humans pretending to be God. Everyone who failed to please them or whom they found threatening really did just get killed off. And now here he was, about to die for this revelation.       That moment of clarity seemed to last an eternity, as Henry's mind raced to all the people he knew and cared for: Elijah 47, Luna 26, George 64, Sophia 12, and of course Evelyn, who Henry now hoped was far away from here. Henry raced through all his most treasured memories of his short life, but at the very end, the choice of what to think of last came surprisingly easily to Henry: he chose to send a prayer of apology to Lucas 40, for doubting him and condemning him to death for it. He closed his eyes, relaxed his mind on that contritious thought, and waited for the end.       Much to Henry's surprise, his mind continued to have thoughts when he opened his eyes again and noticed that he was now hurdling at impressive speed towards his immediate left. He then felt the warm embrace of the body that had tackled him, and was carrying him in this trajecroty. He turned his head, as he was falling onto the ground, to see whose body it was. It was Evelyn, now lying on top of him on the ground, panting furiously as they exchanged a glance. Just as Henry was mustering up the words to say in response, Evelyn suddenly leapt up from his body, and lunged herself at Archangel Michael, itself unable to respond in time before toppling backwards onto the ground.       Evelyn, now straddling the metallic body of the Archangel, began pummeling his face and chest with a series of wild punches, a flurry of blows that resonated a clamorous ringing off of the chrome. Henry stood up to get a better look, witnessing the fury, the ardor, the sheer ferocity of Evelyn's attacks. It was a side of her that Henry hadn't seen until now, and he couldn't help but worry for her safety. A round of bullet fire shot out of Michael's rifle, but was sent aimlessly into the sky, missing Evelyn completely. This only emboldened her to continue her onslaught, but an instant later, Evelyn's body stiffened up, as a loud buzz emanated from the Archangel's body. An electric current ran over his surface, causing Evelyn to leap away at the last second, recoiling in pain. Henry could see the burn marks all over her hands and body, a part of her face singed by the current.       Archangel Michael took this opportunity to stand up again, both arms now rotating their weaponry to lock in a different mode. It had repositioned itself to face Evelyn, seeming to have completely forgotten about Henry. As Evelyn nursed her wounds she locked eyes with the Archangel, which was standing still in a momentary pause to the violence that would ensue. The people within the Archangel chose to speak. "There you are, you little bitch. Your daddy almost screwed us all over here, just to bring you back!" "Who are you!? Why would you do this? I thought you cared about your... flock!" "Oh God, you're just like him too! That's it, no more talking!"       A faint whirring sound began to ring out of Michael's body, as both of his shoulder cannons started rising up from where his shoulder blades would have been. Evelyn took no time to find out what those cannons would do, as she leapt again to the far right, deliberately to get Michael to turn it's back on Henry. Michael attempted to shoot a net from it's right hand, aiming for where Evelyn would land, but she responded by tapping her leg down on the ground to jump right over the entire net, sending her flying even further. Her body gracefully descended down to the ground, and conveniently behind a slab of concrete roughly her size. Without hesitation, Michael rotated it's torso, and let out a barrage of gunfire from it's right hand, cutting the concrete slab down to pebbles after only a few seconds. The dust rose up from the wreckage, obfuscating the view. The Archangel merely stood in place, rotating the weapons on each of it's hands, while it's shoulder cannons kept rising up, and rotating into position on top of his shoulders. Before they could click into place, however, a shadow dashed out of the dust cloud and blinding speed, and landed a quick blow onto Michael's right arm, bending it slightly outward. The Archangel attempted to use this arm regardless, spraying the surrounding area with a torrent of flame as it spun it's torso around. Evelyn was now standing behind him, ready to strike again. As she was patiently waiting for the perfect moment to leap back into action, the cannister containing the rest of the flamethrower's lighter fluid exploded on Michael's body, engulfing it in a ball of flame. Henry had to cover his eyes with his arm to resist the blinding light, and subsequent scorching heat. The flames rose up into the sky, leaving only black smoke back coming from the ground, billowing in the wind.       Evelyn stood in place for a good couple seconds, poised for battle, waiting for a retaliatory strike from Michael. After a good while of watching for signs of movement in the smoke, Evelyn relaxed herself. She then turned to Henry, who was still sitting on the ground, speechless and dumbfounded by the bout of combat he'd just seen, and offered him a cheeky grin in consolation. He met her gaze, and they shared this moment of calm as a gentle breeze passed them by, as if to cool their tempered hearts. Looking at Evelyn this way amused Henry; that someone so kind and so calm could suddenly turn into a true monster when enraged. Whatever she was, she was right: she definitely isn't Human. Henry's ruminations on Evelyn continued right up until a mechanical claw flung from the smoke and got a perfect chokehold of her neck, connected by a thin metal chain leading back to the now burnt and smoldering body of the Archangel Michael, slowly approaching it's target and pulling her in. Evelyn grabbed at the claw in a vain effort to pry it away from her neck, but only succeeded in falling down to the ground as the chain retracted back into the Archangel's right arm slot from where it came, dragging her along the dirt, closer to him in turn.       When the claw was safely returned to it's launch position on the arm, the arm itself had been raised up to Michael's eye level, where Evelyn's face now crudely rested by the neck, her body desperately dangling beneath. The shoulder cannons on the Archangel's shoulders were setting themselves into their firing position, aiming directly at Evelyn's beautiful face, when the Archangel Michael spoke once again. "Honestly, girl, this isn't personal. If we could somehow join you, it'd be a different story. But alas..." Evelyn's face was becoming more and more blue as the mechanical vice tightened around her neck, while the high-pitched squeal caming from the shoulder cannons rose in pitch until it rose above the audible spectrum. "We are God's Plan, not you."       Yet again, time slowed down for Henry as he was comprehending what he was seeing with his eyes: another imminent termination of life by an unfeeling metal puppet. However, whereas when he was in the crosshairs Henry could very easily accept his own demise with contrition, witnessing Evelyn in immediate mortal danger only energized his body beyond all Human limits.       As if itself a product of divine craftsmanship, his body effortlessly lifted him up off the ground, and directly onto the riding seat of his Stallion, whose engine was still running. With one fluid motion, Henry pulled as far back on the throttle as it could go, and leaned forward as Kawasaki accelerated to it's maximum speed on a collision course with the Archangel. A nearby rock provided the perfect ramp Kawasaki needed to elevate to chest-height, and so soaring into the air, like a mythical beast pouncing on it's unsuspecting prey, Kawasaki tackled the Archangel with the full force of it's metal chassis, sending Michael and Evelyn tumbling down again onto the ground. Henry wasn't sure what exactly happened next, as he was instantly both deafened and blinded by a powerful explosion of light, one that sent his body flying backwards once again, to land ruggedly onto the concrete earth nearby. The last thought running through his head, as he soared in the air like a cheap empty sack, is to worry about the wellbeing of Evelyn, who must have still been very close to the Archangel as it exploded. He desperately prayed for her safety in his last fleeting moments of lucidity.

* * *

Henry awoke to the sound of chewing, and so opened his eyes and turned his head to the right. There was Evelyn, sitting cross-legged next to his still prone body, eating from a jar of dried fruit, and lightly sipping from the water jug next to her lap. She was glowing in the golden sun, which had begun to encroach on the horizon to the West. Henry recognized one of the strange pieces of clothing he'd brought with him, wrapped around Evelyn's arm as if in a sling. When she noticed his eyes scanning her, she perked up and gave a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God you made it! I was getting worried for a minute there." "Ar-arch-angel..." "Blown to bits! All thanks to you."       Evelyn pointed to the left of Henry, who obliged by painfully turning his swollen head around, to gaze upon the truly smoldering pitch-black wreck of the former Archangel Michael, arms and upper torso splayed across the road like confetti, still emanating a thick black smoke from it's sizzling corpse.       "It was just about to fire off it's laser cannons at my face, when you rammed the damn quad into it! I guess when we all fell down, the cannons got crossed, and shot the robot instead. And then the quad exploded too! I think the claw that was holding my neck got torn off by the explosion, so that's why I was flung away and somehow only banged up my shoulder." Evelyn pointed to the sling wrapping up her right arm. The smile on her face both delighted and unnerved Henry. "So... I guess we can talk about what the hell that was later, right now we need to take care of you. I checked your body already, and I bandaged up some of your wounds, but I'm guessing you're not ready to move yet." "P-pain..." "Oh I see. Well yeah, not every day you take a laser explosion to the face."       Evelyn attempted a lighthearted chuckle, which, under the current circumstances, felt hollow. " ... I tried putting my hands on you again, and I think I did give you something...but I guess it's not pain relief..."       Henry suddenly remembered there was something that would prove very helpful in this exact scenario. He looked around, and was relieved to see his backpack lying nearby. He thanked himself for his preparedness as he painfully lifted his right hand up, finger pointing at the backpack. Evelyn immediately understood, bringing the backpack back to Henry, and pulling items out of it until her hands clasped the jar full of white pills Henry was hoping would still be there for her to find. She lifted the jar up to her eyes, rattled it a bit, and presented it to Henry in open query. "What are these?" "Ox-oxy..." "Oxycodone? Really? So there's no alcohol but there are drugs in this world. Alright, open wide!"       After unscrewing the jar, Evelyn took three pills from it into her hand, and lifted Henry's head to ease his ingestion. With a little help from a sip of water from the jug, Henry happily swallowed the pills, and then patiently waited for the sweet relief that would ensue, letting his eyes close again for a light nap. There was no need to resist the temptation of slumber, since this time, as far as Henry knew, Evelyn was safe.

* * *

Henry awoke once again, only this time feeling a swaying motion throughout his body. As he opened his eyes preparing to adjust to the light, he discovered that there was very little left. Moreover, he was no longer lying down motionless on the ground. Instead he appeared to be slumped over something that was moving at a steady pace. It was only after allowing some time for his senses to reform again that he realized what he was slumped over: Evelyn's back. She was carrying him, along with Henry's backpack, several small cloth satchels, and one of the water jugs, across the empty sands all by herself, as the light died ahead of them to fade into the starry night below. By this point, there was almost nothing to see for Henry but the stars above, and a gentle crescent of the moon just almost out of view. Evelyn must have felt Henry's stirring behind her.       "I was wondering when you'd wake up. Don't know how strong a dose I gave you. How do you feel?" "Like a ton of bricks with a splitting headache." "Yeah, after the stunt you pulled on that robot, I'm not surprised. Let's hope you'll be able to walk again when we get back to Haven." "Back? You're going back now?" "Well yeah, of course! Don't you? Don't you want to find out what the hell is going on here?"       Henry pondered on this for a moment. All his life, he had been taught to trust God and the Angels that served him, but now he had the death of the Archangel Michael on his conscience. But it wasn't Michael, it was whoever was speaking through the sound system installed into it, and even they didn't seem all that Human. They had no patience nor empathy, simply didn't care about Henry at all. Like he was a pawn, to be discarded at the moment of obsolescence. Why send him on this sacred mission to recover God's daughter, only to get rid of him at the first sign of failure? Henry could not deny these questions burning themselves into his mind's eye, a compelling need for closure, for some kind of explanation.       "Well, alright, I want to go home too, but we can't navigate these sands at night! You'll get lost before you know it, if you aren't already!" "That's the thing: I checked out the tablet my Dad left me, and it looks like he put an app on it with a tracker marker. I've been going in a straight line for a couple hours now." "Oh... well then..." "You go back to sleep, Henry. You've done your part for now, let me do mine." "What about your body? Don't you need sleep?" "I don't know... somehow I feel fine. I think my body can handle going all night. I'll wake you up when I see something." "Well alright then. Lead the way..."       Henry's head fell back upon Evelyn's neck, as she continued to push forward throughout the night. Lulled into a blissful trance by the playful ebb and flow of the winds dancing upon the dunes, Henry dreamed of Atlanta as it might have been long ago. He dreamt of a beautiful carefree life there, with Evelyn by his side.