GABI HAD never seen so many people in one place. Fellows from all over were crammed into the central plaza, filling up the surrounding parking lots and filling every temple complex building. The small stage was shaded by an awning, but those not watching on indoor screens overflowed the unsheltered plaza. Though their entire framework for life had been shattered, the FCC assured the fellows that they would be free to practice their religion in whatever way they saw fit, as long as doing so did not infringe upon the rights of others. Unitas as a governing body, however, would cease to exist. There’d been no outright protests apart from the fellows who’d followed Nystrom and his associates to the Southwest, but the mood in Alder was deeply unsettled. Cleo Walker’s miraculous return, the exploded myth of the Tribes and Lilim, and Marcus Ingles’s testimonial had gone a long way toward helping people understand what it was they were being liberated from, but the plaza still buzzed with tension. More FCC troops were on their way to establish an interim government during the transition, and life would never be the same. The FCC felt that bringing everyone together for an official declaration of liberation would help mark the new beginning.
Way before she had reconciled herself to stepping up to the podium in front of hundreds of thousands of people, it was Gabi’s turn to speak. She rose from her chair on strong legs, terrified but not betraying so much as a tremble. She had to suppress the urge to use her new strength to bound off the stage and cower underneath it until everyone went away. Every color, sound, and smell blared at her with overripe intensity. Gabi’s appetite grew more voracious every day, and her body still felt like it was a fancy suit that someone might force her to relinquish at any moment.
Mathew and Marnie grinned at Gabi from just beyond the apron of the stage, where they stood beside Jordan and his family. Jordan’s sister, who had thrown herself—black face paint and all—over Jordan when the first shot was fired in the clearing, stood by their parents on one side, while Jordan loomed on the other. He, Gabi, and Marnie had been spending a lot of time together since their return from the mountains, when he and his sister weren’t helping his parents strategize about what to do next. Spruce was their home but was ravaged and full of nightmares now. Since Jordan’s sister had been assigned as an FCC officer for the Pacific Northwest region, going there seemed a good option, and one Gabi and Marnie unashamedly lobbied for.
Marnie had moved into the Lowell house in Alder, making her own plans for joining Mathew at the training center in the Pacific Northwest. With the yoke of Unitas off her shoulders, Marnie was free to do as she pleased, and what pleased her, as it turned out, was becoming the next Cleo Walker. Moments before mounting the stage, Marnie had pulled Gabi aside for a pep talk worthy of an Apostle General.
“You’ve got this, Lowell,” she’d said, grasping Gabi around the arms and giving her a little shake. “You’re a freaking superhero, and no matter what happens up on that stage, you win, got it? You already saved my ass and everyone else’s, so don’t you dare forget it.” Gabi had been taken aback by the vehemence of Marnie’s heartfelt words, but they also gave her the courage to place her hands on her friend’s cheeks, look deeply into her Cleopatra eyes, and kiss her soundly on the mouth with all the confused joy and delicious longing Gabi felt when they were together. She had left Marnie standing at the foot of the risers leading up to the stage, eyes wide and a slow smile of wonder dawning on her face.
Gabi approached the podium, hot air scorching the skin on her legs as it blasted across the plaza. Her hair, which had grown longer but no less unruly with her improved health, spilled over the light cotton scarf twined around her neck and tickled arms burnished to bronze by the sun during her daily runs with Marnie. Gabi had no cards to read from, though a book was cradled in the crook of her arm. The crowd quieted as she reached out to adjust the microphone, and feedback squealed from the speakers. Gabi opened the book, found her place, and cleared her throat.
“Lilith,” she began, her voice startling her as it boomed through the speakers, “was a fallen woman who cavorted with demons. She bore children by them who were half-human, half-demon, and they were called ‘Lilim.’” Gabi raised her eyes, straining to take in the vast crowd. Somewhere out there were more people like her. If she spoke loud enough and with enough conviction, maybe she could reach them. “That’s not the Word, and I am not a Messenger,” Gabi continued, her voice deepening with conviction. “I didn’t receive that information from the Holy Spirit. I just read it in a book. This one here.” She raised the volume in her hand high, as did her projected image on the screen behind her. “It’s called the Holy Bible. Some people think God wrote it, or wrote it through people acting as channels for what God wanted to say. Other people think it’s a collection of stories that try to teach us how to live right. For others, it’s nothing at all. To tell you the truth, I don’t really know what this book is to me. I’m still trying to figure that out.”
Gabi paused, waiting for the sky to open and blood to rain from the heavens, but nothing happened. The crowd shifted and murmured, but
