“Pull up!” Gabriel clenched his arms tight as the air smacked him in the face like a freight train, the valley winds battered his skin, “Don’t flap! You’re not a biiiiiirrrrrd!” He shouted at her.

Seraphim’s face turned red at the comparison, and her wings snapped out stiff, caught the updraft, and her descent ceased. Her body went sharply up, and she smirked as her hair smacked Gabriel in the face just before she leveled off.

‘That’s better.’ Seraphim told herself as he fell quiet and they soared over the river, looking down into the valley from on high, and she banked towards the area he pointed at mere moments before.

Their descent to the trees was slow, and by the time they were nearly on the ground his heart rate was normal again. Seraphim smacked some wayward limbs aside with her hands, and spat loose pine needles out of her mouth when some came free and struck her back.

“I hate that.” Gabriel groused as he let go of her and jogged the last few paces to kill the momentum of their landing. Seraphim reached up to her long hair and began picking the little green points free and tossing them to the ground.

“How did you know I needed to glide?” She asked as his back moved away from her.

The trees towered over them all, their narrow shadows creating intricate, overlapping patterns on the ground. Fallen branches crunched underfoot, and the sweet smell of flowers and pine engulfed them.

Seraphim followed, “I asked you a question.”

Gabriel put a hand on a tree, “Wow, you really did come close to where I wanted to be.” His palm moved up and down, and then stopped when he felt the small nail.

“Thank you… I suppose, but-?” Seraphim left the question hanging.

“I’ve done it before.” Gabriel answered and began to take long steps in the direction of the nail, counting off his paces, she followed with smaller steps, her wings folding back into her body, she cocked her head at him.

“When? Why?” Seraphim pressed.

“We don’t have time for your questions.” Gabriel said with glib dismissal as his hand ran up and down the rough texture of the tree skin, the bark crackled under his touch, “I found the next one, follow me.”

“Where?” Seraphim aske as they moved deeper and deeper into the woods. “I could have gone closer, you know.” She said when he didn’t answer, but only led her farther and farther within.

“I’m sure. And when people are in hiding, flying around in the open air in broad daylight is the perfect way to avoid being seen.” Gabriel’s sarcasm was so thick and rich it could have been drizzled on hotcakes as a syrup.

Seraphim flushed red in the face, but continued to follow after him as he found his little directional nails. “Did you put these here?” She finally asked when she paused to look at one. The nail was the same color as the bark, and barely stuck out at all.

“Joan, my brother, and I did, some years ago.” Gabriel answered, “She went by a different name way back then, same as me and same as he. But we always knew we needed a place to bug out to if we had to run. So after we set up this place, we backtracked to the river and started putting these little nails into place. The direction the nail head points is the direction you walk until the next tree is right in front of you, and then…” Gabriel stopped talking, slapped the tall slender trunk of the old pine tree and took a few more steps.

“Then you get here.” He said and pointed to a drop off.

Seraphim approached with slow, tentative steps and stood beside him. “I see only a depression in the ground, a lot of hard scrabble rocks, some mud, and a few fallen trees.”

“Do you want to walk through all that?” Gabriel asked with a little smirk on his face.

Seraphim looked at the ugly muck, the muddy depression and rotted, blackened logs covered with green moss and offering nothing but mess and discomfort. “No.” She answered matter-of-factly.

“Right. And we’re not going to either.” Gabriel said, and her head turned to let her look at him, he sat down on the ground, put his hands on the edge of the depression, and dropped down. “See, nobody would want to. And nobody would approach from that side, if they’re ever chasing us, they’re coming from our backs, there’s just nothing out that way,” he pointed in the direction they’d been walking until moments ago, “but a whole lot of empty parkland. But thanks to a little effort?” He made it a rhetorical question and then held up a hand and curled his fingers toward himself, calling her down.

She landed with a thud of her boots on a surprisingly hard surface and, looking up close, the overhanging weeds and other plants looked… off.

“Touch it.” He said, and she did.

“It’s smooth.” She blinked

“It’s a mylar mirror, with a little help from our surrounding area to provide camo. Plus that,” he pointed to the muddy depression, “there’s an underground water source there that will keep off hellhounds, and the smell is enough to keep regular bloodhounds from tracking us.” Gabriel’s voice became more enthusiastic as he boasted of the hideaway, and he pushed one segment of the mirror in, it opened as a doorway and he held it to allow Seraphim to follow.

Far from the cramped space she expected, she found herself staring at a deep excavation that led under the forest floor by at least fifty feet. Roots hung from what passed for a ceiling, and glowing moss grew along the wall to provide a dim lightsource.

In the corner sat a crate with big letters she recognized. “MRE? What’s that?” She asked and pointed as he went over to the cot.

“Meals Ready to Eat. Military rations, you, and by that I mean me, only need to eat one per day to get most of the calories needed to function. It’s not exactly fantastic fare but it lasts god damn forever. Now sit, I need to see your injury, it should be mostly healed by now, but there’s no certainty until it’s certain.” Gabriel smacked the palm of his hand on the taut stretched green fabric of the cot, and Seraphim strode over to it, her limp at least was completely gone.

“Theresans are at the forefront of technology when it comes to blending sacred, demonic, and science for military purposes.” Gabriel said while he crouched down in front of her and put his hands on her wound. She swallowed and watched as his hands pressed against her through the bandages.

“Does that hurt?” He asked.

“No.” She said truthfully.

He gave a cryptic nod and began to unwrap the yellow stained cloth. “You might want to look away, nobody should look at their own injuries.” Gabriel said, and his unwrapping stopped until she turned her head to look at the wall. A cabinet of dark gray metal sat in the corner, covered in dirt and dust. She wondered how long it had been since anyone had visited this place.

“Can I look now?” She asked, his hands were hard to the touch, but very warm, and surprisingly gentle.

“No.” He said, and bored of the cabinet whose contents she couldn’t see, she looked elsewhere, and noticed something, there were no other cots.

“You said you made this with your friends, right?” She asked.

“No. I said I made it with Joan and my brother.” Gabriel replied abruptly, and Seraphim tensed at the roughness of his answer, his hand tightened on her leg, and she then felt cool water rushing down over her flesh.

“Mostly healed, but I’m going to take a precaution anyway and rewrap it.” Gabriel said and she turned her eyes to him, he wasn’t looking up at her, his gaze was focused and intent on the task at hand, he took off the pack from his back, opened it and removed a single bandage of white gauze, and started wrapping her leg again.

“Your brother saved my life.” Seraphim gently defended the man’s worth.

“And he fucked my fiance. To you he was a savior, to me though? He was an asshole. Do me a favor and don’t talk about him.” Gabriel said, and she clapped her jaw shut just before he let go of her leg and stood up.

“There.” He dusted off his hands against one another, “You should be good as new in no time, but we’re going to give the Theresans some time to fuck up first.”

“I’m sorry?” Seraphim said, “How?”

Gabriel walked to the cabinet and turning the silver handle, he flung the door open with a clatter, “Simple, the Theresans suffer from one constant failing in the devout, they believe they can’t truly lose; and they suffer from the curse of success, which is they think they are bigger than they are, and can do more than they actually can. Even in a professional organization, those are serious flaws. While you heal up here in safety, they’re going to start searching cities. Depending on when my car is finally stopped, maybe several. They’ll spread themselves thin, and then we’ll slip into town tomorrow through one of the many large holes in their net.” He snapped the fingers of his right hand while he drew out a blanket wrapped in plastic.

He brought it to his teeth and tore the clear plastic open, then tossed the green microfiber cloth over to Seraphim. “So relax Sarah, for now at least, we are safe.”

She caught the thin blank while he pulled out another from within, then slapped the cabinet shut with a decisive clang and turned the handle shut to secure the contents again.

Seraphim looked around the room some more and then it hit her. “This cot is the only one.” She noted. “Where are the others?”

“Thrown the fuck out.” Gabriel said, “If I were to guess, they’ve probably washed downstream a few hundred miles by now if they didn’t get hung up on a rock and rust or tear to nothing a long time ago.”

“So, what do-” Seraphim put her palms flat on the green fabric of the cot, there was clearly enough room for only one.

“I’m fine on the ground, you’re injured, you take the cot.” Gabriel gave his brusque answer, and then went to the crate of MREs, his belly rumbling with every anticipatory step, and curious, wondering eyes focused on his back.