The Revelation of Gabriel Adam by S.L. Duncan Read Free Book Online Page A

gridlock of unmoving vehicles swarmed by hundreds of people.
    A hellish light flickered behind the buildings. It illuminated the sky and cast the whole city block into silhouette.
    Gabe caught a glimpse of smoke behind a building and instantly recognized the shape of one of the towers. “The cathedral,” he said. “It’s burning.”
    “Dear God, no . . .”
    Ahead, blue lights spun on the police cars that blocked the intersection.
    Flames as tall as buildings, both awesome and terrible, burned into the sky. One of the outer walls buckled out from the sanctuary and crumbled to the ground. Showers of spark and ember flew into the air as the last tower toppled, its bell cutting through the burning brick and mortar.
    His father put the car in park and threw open his door. “Stay here. Look after the car.”
    Gabe ignored his father and followed him toward a police officer pushing back the stream of people trying to get closer to the spectacle.
    His dad pointed to the burning church and grabbed his clerical collar to present to the cop. “Please. Let me by. I need to speak with whoever is in charge. This is my cathedral.”
    The officer stood aside and held out his hand, offering a way past. His eyes looked sad, sympathetic. “Whatever you say, pal. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. It ain’t good.”
    Smoke and fire whipped about in the swirling air currents, casting shadows onto the ground and adjacent buildings. The orange-lit cloud and smoke and the ash that merged with snow blowing through the air were indistinguishable.
    Gabe stared at the wreckage, staying behind as his father disappeared into the crowd. A feeling, like a growing warmth at the base of his skull, anchored to a spot just above his neck and radiated into his body as if something inside him, like a sixth sense or intuition, was sending a warning.
    Firefighters at the edge of the blaze had shifted priorities from saving the church to preventing the fire from spreading. Their tanker trucks fired jets of water onto the ruins from hoisted ladders. Rivers of black water flowed through the streets and gutters.
    Feeling scared and alone, Gabe searched for his father in the crowd. Police wrangled with the mob of onlookers, and reporters gathered around the grassy area in front of the cathedral, their interest drawn away from the inferno. Lights from the cameras of a television crew cast beams through the smoke. People pressed against a police barrier, their mass forming a wall that blocked Gabe from seeing what was beyond until one of the firemen parted the mob.
    The moment froze in his mind like a photograph—Richard’s body, smoking and mutilated, hanging upside down on a cross sticking out of the ground.
     
     

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
     
    A taxi horn woke Gabe. He sat up, squinting at the morning sunlight, and checked his surroundings, half expecting to see the burning cathedral. The car had been moved since last night, where he had retreated after witnessing the horrible scene with Richard. Gabe tried not to think about it as he lay alone in the backseat with his father’s jacket draped over him.
    Sleeping in a pretzeled position for so many hours had left his body stiff and sore. The muscles in his legs and back felt taut like pulled ropes, ready to snap. He used the roomy space in the back of the car to stretch in hopes of relieving some of the tension.
    Outside, the street looked busy enough with traffic and pedestrians—all going somewhere in a hurry despite it being New Year’s Day. Most everybody wore a suit.
    The Financial District .
    A No Parking sign was visible just outside the passenger window. Soot caked the hood, and ash still dirtied the windshield. Gabe caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. Hair stuck out like he’d slept in an electric chair. His clothes hung in a mess of wrinkles.
    His father exited the bank holding an envelope and got into the car. “I didn’t think you’d wake. How are you doing?”
    Visions from