“It’s not the Catholic Church. Just a group of priests who have strayed from the path.”
“How many belong to this sect?”
“I’m not sure. But not many. We never saw any more than twenty priests.”
Miller slumped in his seat and palmed his eyes. “Shit, son.” Miller groaned. “Jack thought if he just stayed away it would spare you all from whatever marred his soul,” he all but whispered to himself.
“It didn’t. Whatever ran in his veins now runs in Michael’s. The Fallen have been stricken too.” Gabriel said. Closing his eyes, he continued. “In his journals, Jack mentions people who did unsavory things for him—burying bodies, clean-ups . . . even getting people out from dangerous places undetected.” Miller looked like he wanted to argue, but instead slowly nodded his head. “Do you still have their contact details?” Miller nodded again. Gabriel’s heart started racing with a whisper of a plan, with possibility. “We could secretly get my brothers out. Bring them here. The manor is off the grid; you said so yourself. No one will find us. They wouldn’t be able to find us.” Hope ran through Gabriel’s heart. “I could use Jack’s methods as a way to guide them, to keep innocent people safe. I can do this. I can help them. This . . . ” He felt the ever-present weight lift from his chest. “This could be it. What it was all for, the pain, the horrendous acts. This could have been my calling all along.”
Miller sat forward. “Gabriel, you don’t know what it’s like . . . to take on that kind of responsibility.” The excitement in Gabriel’s body slowed to a steady flow of apprehension at the tiredness and defeat in Miller’s voice. “You’re young. Too young. But more than that, you’re a good kid, Gabriel. This kind of life . . . doing what it takes to be around people who want, no, need, to kill . . .” He sighed. “It taints the soul. Irreparably. I should know.” Miller studied Gabriel. “I read your file. It said that you were meant for the priesthood yourself. A life completely opposite to that which you’re planning now. You’d sacrifice what could be your soul for them?”
Gabriel thought of his life, of the Fallen’s lives over the past few years. He thought of the rapes, the pain, the exorcisms, and the darkness that still lived within his brothers, and a little in himself. The darkness that, he realized after months of punishment, was there to stay. It didn’t seem to be a choice for them. It was them. “I’m willing to make the sacrifice.” In that moment, Gabriel damned himself. He knew the turn his life would take under the responsibility of the Fallen. But he had to try. He had to save them in order to save others. It was bigger than him, his brothers. There was more at stake than just the state of his soul.
He needed to bring down the Brethren.
To do that, he needed to sin. He needed to become complicit in death and murder, just as Miller had done for Jack.
Miller got to his feet. “You know the location? The layout of Purgatory?” Gabriel nodded. He would never forget that place. Dwellings for the so-called sinners to “repent.” Instead it was a torture chamber run by priests who had bastardized the Catholic faith and its ideals. “It will cost you. A lot of money for the best men.”
Gabriel smirked, the first time he had found humor in so long. “Apparently I’m good for it.” Miller didn’t smile back. Instead he went to the painting of the archangels and slid the large frame to the side. It covered a safe that was sunk seamlessly into the wall. Miller opened it and took out a black book.
“There’s no going back after this. You know that, right? You’ve been through a lot, I get that. No one should endure what you have. We can stop the Brethren in other ways. I can help. It may be a long process, but we can get your brothers’ records back in the government system—illegally, of course, but it can be done.” He waved the black book. “There are more than just murderers and thieves in this book. Think about it, son. We could go through the proper channels”
Gabriel straightened his shoulders. “It has to be this way. I’ll step into the sin freely. The Brethren will never let my brothers go. I’m sure that, as we speak, they are trying to discover where I am and how they can get me back. No one leaves Purgatory alive without joining their cause. It’ll take too long to get them out any other way. The Brethren are a product of the Spanish Inquisition, Miller. They have existed for over a hundred years. They won’t let me be the ruin of everything they have built.”