Dogs of the Father: A Legion Fanfiction - Episode 1: Little Prophet

Chapter 9

Audrey studied the Rand-McNally Road Atlas which she'd found in the police cruiser during yesterday's supply run. For the last several weeks, the things they needed to stay here had begun to dwindle, while things such as this—a map, a couple of backpacks, a portable camp-stove and mess kit—had all appeared in the trunk.

She glanced over at Gabriel who, ever since he'd made the choice to live, ruthlessly punished his body to gain back his strength. While he still couldn't fly, if it needed lifting, carrying, or killing, he attacked her every request like some kind of mission. At the moment, he was bashing at the cliff face with his mace to get the spring, which had stopped trickling several days ago, to give them water.

"Hey, Gabriel?" her voice warbled.

"Yes, Prophet?" he lowered one wing and glanced over his shoulder.

"Could you please come here?"

"I've not yet finished this task."

She glanced at the crater he'd dug into the cliff-face.

"You can finish it later," she said.

Gabriel hung his mace onto his belt and lumbered over. He kneeled down next to her; his dark, steel-feathered wings awkwardly splayed so as not to drag on the ground.

"Do you know how to read one of these?" She spread out the map.

"I know what it is," he said. "but I've never had need to use one before."

"I think we're here," she pointed at the national park. She didn't add, 'and this was the Paradise Diner, which you destroyed.' Instead, she pointed in the opposite direction. "According to this map, there's a small town about seventy miles to the north."

"Have you been given a sign?" Gabriel pointed at the tattoo on her arm, one of many which marked her body ever since Michael had healed her wounds.

"A sign?" Andrey unconsciously rubbed the compass-rose which adorned her right wrist. "No, not a sign..." her voice trailed off. "It's just that, well, we're almost out of water, and I've foraged every bit of food within a dozen square miles."

"I will help you hunt," his sharp blue eyes scanned the desert.

"You don't even know what to eat," she scoffed, remembering the day he'd proudly handed her a mace-smashed rat.

"You will teach me, and I will kill it."

"That won't help us find more water," she said.

"The rocks were moist where I just newly dug?" He pointed at the base of the cliff-face where he'd smashed apart a boulder.

"It's fed by rain," Audrey said. "We're in the middle of a desert. We won't get more until next winter."

"So how about that?" he pointed at the case of spring water she'd brought back from her latest forage. "Take me with you, and I'll help you carry more back."

Audrey fell silent, not willing to lie to the Left Hand of God, but neither would she betray Michael, who didn't want his brother to know that he'd charged her with the task of caring for his fallen brother. Thankfully, Gabriel was clueless about mundane matters such as how the sawdust-tasting power bars appeared. Having spent his entire existence receiving manna from heaven, it never occurred to him to ask.

She scratched the compass rose, which itched each time the ink, which moved around her flesh like the actual needle of a map-compass, kept pointing back towards the interstate highway. She'd kept the police car secret by ordering Gabriel to guard the camp, but the last few trips, she'd had a hard time convincing him to stay put.