May felt tears glistening in her eyes, the words didn't make sense, they weren't -

Her aunt cried, "How could they...they do it, and call it faith."

The words were wrong, her aunt needed a place to stay - an almost empty car, just the clothes she wore, a few snagged possessions in a rush to survive a rising inferno -

She sat at the family table, her mother was brewing tea and her father comforting, the smells of home, a sanctuary, where sadness was rare and only fleeting, the unavoidable trials of life, where people came for faith's comfort - not to escape it -

"It's just - why?" Her Aunt gasped for breath, "They burnt it down - it was a bar, but I'd lived above it for years, I didn't need anything bigger after Frank passed, I spend most of my time with the children, it was a safe, quiet crowd there, not bikers. Not gang-bangers!"

May's father consoled his sister's hysteria by holding her hand, a gentle voice, "Jules, I'm so sorry. I want you to know - you're safe here, you're going to stay with us and we'll get it taken care of."

It was so strange. The - that coloring her sadness was guilt. May could hear, even amongst her aunts disbelief, her stating that burning down the building was wrong. She made justifications, explained it - now, like even she believed it was perhaps a punishment, undeserved but a punishment all the same because she lived near sin.

There was a question in her voice - perhaps why she'd come here to see father, was she wrong? To live above a bar, to support...

"I mean, I should have known after that - that club, just imagining those poor girls, I'm glad it's gone." Her aunt said, calming down, wiping tears, "But for them to, ugh - it's just stuff. Mary has copies of everything important, my wedding pictures, at least, and it's not like I can't remember every page in those scrap books, or the kids even care to look through them."

Why wasn't it on the news?

"Its just to have such a, a shame, after so many miracles. I just, I guess it's a test of faith." She wiped her tears, and her face narrowed into a brittle smile, the lines of her eyes, the wrinkles revealed without make-up, and May admired her composure, her positivity - but...

"It's terrible, but - we want you here, Jules." Her mother said, "This is a time for family, it'll be good to have you in our house and our prayers."

"Thank you, that helps more than you know - that I still have so much to be grateful for, I have family. I was able to save Grandfather's Bible, too." May saw her aunt nod, she looked better by the second, "I just hope Whiskers got out, I left the door open."

"Oh, I'm sure." Her father nodded as the tea was sat on the table, May heard a knock, she went to get the door - it was Weston, she told her parents, giving her aunt a hug, she stepped outside to not interrupt and explained to him what had happened -

Weston didn't look surprised...

"I just don't understand." May said as they walked to the porch swing, sitting together - "How people aren't coming together over this, even if they are afraid, it should unite them at the very least."

Weston's face was serious, hesitant - "There's a lot of stories like that, unfortunately. There's a lot going on we haven't been hearing about."

"Really? Like what?" May asked.

"I don't want to frighten you, May, it's rare around here." Weston said, "But it's actually one of the reasons I came by. I was wondering if you'd seen Hickory?"

May shook her head - curious, they'd never discussed Hickory, Weston had always ignored him - to the point where May had thought he didn't know the other existed and it hadn't really mattered - except it did now, didn't it?

"Not since the Angels...why?"

Weston blinked at her, then smiled, "I know he likes you, I was wondering if he'd told you anything else, besides what he said at the fountain?"

"That he failed." May said nodding, thinking about Hickory's words, replaying the moment, as she did so often now in thinking of him. Then he'd just ran off. May read Weston's expression not sure what she was looking for - not jealousy, Weston wouldn't show that, perhaps was incapable, "Do you know what it means?"

Weston seemed to hesitate again, he looked intense - the swing rocked back slowly, the springs groaned, and May suddenly felt her head pulled toward him, as though he was growing larger - heavier -

She realized she was holding her breath - until the swing slowly came forward again, the moment passed and released her.

And suddenly May was confused - because that strange feeling that had been within her, that - she wasn't quite sure, what had been awoken there since that insane day - she'd attributed it to Hickory, her sudden need to press her lips against his cool miracle, a need to taste him, she's thought of it because he was chosen, except now she felt it toward Weston, too...

"Others had a similar experience as him, May, other people that touched the anoma- angels...but none of the others have claimed they failed that we know of. They claim to be chosen. Some talk about a book, a book that nobody else can see."

May blinked at him, "You think Hickory has a book?"

Weston nodded, but he also grimaced - "That's where the buildings might be coming from, it's some sort of ritual they use, but - there's so much going on, it's difficult to verify with technology acting erratic."

There were more buildings now - May knew that, and they were equally unexplained, had just appeared randomly, or so she'd thought...

"You don't think he failed? You think he's doing the building?"

Weston licked his lip, "I saw and heard the same as you, May, this is just what people have said, government sources, before they stopped sharing, have you seen them? The new structures?"

"I saw the offering pool." May said, remembering the flash of horror she'd felt when she heard about the goat, of course she needn't have worried, the people had stopped it before it got out of hand -

"Do you have a moment?" Weston asked, "There's another now."

May nodded, told her family, and a short drive - she looked at the new building in the park, it was grey and blocky and open as well, simple, same as the pool, the gazebo with the fountain beneath it.

They went to walk in -

"Do you have your phone, May?" Weston asked and she nodded, "Take a picture."

It was a good idea, her family would want to see, she almost called her father, but - her aunt, he was busy so she held up her phone and - "Oh, it didn't come out."

May tapped her screen focusing it, her hand wasn't shaking, she did feel excited but she steadied them - "Silly me...I'm no photographer...I just can't...is it too bright?"

She squinted, but it wasn't a bright day, she couldn't find the problem -

Weston shook his head, his voice thick, "It wouldn't work for me either, they always come out blurry, and texts about them don't go through. Calls get dropped."

"Is it the government?" May asked, she frowned, "Is that why it's not on the news?"

Weston gave a shrug, "We don't know for sure, if the government is trying to keep people from drinking, there was also an issue with the pope, but..."

May listened as they walked in, she saw that the columns that seemed to be holding the building up, it had small basins scooped out at various levels - like empty planter boxes filled with water instead of floral arrangements.

"Put your hand in." Weston said, and she looked at him, the offering pool hadn't let her do that - but here it did, her hand sunk beneath the surface of the liquid easily, she could feel the smooth walls that contained it. She couldn't see her hand once it went beneath - she felt around.

There was nothing there - it was like dipping her hand in the river, except pulling it out she saw her hand was dry. Not a drop of the liquid remained on her skin, like the fountain.

Was she supposed to drink it? Lap it up like a dog, would her head even fit?

She watched Weston as he stuck his hand in the same basin and it came out with a handful of marbles...the same ones that came from the pool if you dropped something in, but he hadn't put anything in the water.

She stuck her hand in with his, felt his hand in there, it was empty, but he lifted it up - full of marbles, he dropped them in front of her and she felt around but nothing -

"A bank." May whispered, and saw Weston smile, and with what, with relief? "How did you get so many?"

Suddenly he looked embarrassed, and she took in the other changes besides his growing presence as he rubbed his hands - they had scrapes, his face tinged with red, sun burn - but then he grinned with a shrug.

"Scrappin." Weston laughed.

"What?"

"Gage, Chase, and Hunter - we've been going to the properties and grabbing whatever old metal we can find and taking it to the recycle- the offering pool. Hunter was the one that figured this place out."

May didn't know what seemed stranger, a faith bank or Weston - hanging out with those three, talk about opposites, but - was it that strange? Was anything these days? May couldn't decide and Weston seemed to nod, possibly reading her mind, perhaps even looked proud of himself?

"But...and Hickory somehow made this?" May asked, "With a book?"

Weston nodded, but it wasn't the words that concerned her so much as his tone, "It's why I need to speak to him, May. I think he knows more of what's going on, he's deciding what to build, the other places we know of have built churches if anything - not pools. Not banks."

May pulled back, "What's really going on?"

Weston sighed, and again he seemed to hesitate, and May realized - he didn't believe. Or - didn't believe it was good - "People are using the book for personal power, using the buildings they can make as proof that whatever message they have is correct, they're starting their own religions or using them to spread an existing one."

"What?"

"Either the books are different, or - or they don't contain information about faith, May. Not for anything other than what to build, or how - I think Hickory would have said if they did, I think he would have read it to us, don't you?"

May narrowed her eyes feeling the unasked question - and she felt a flash of guilt at what she was about to say, but - it was true -

"I know he struggles with school but certainly - certainly he can read."

"But you're sure he knows how?" Weston asked and May bit her lip, but nodded slowly and only after a moment, Weston eyed her.

"What's really going on? I've never seen you worried before."

Weston breathed, shook his head, and she felt that sense of calculation, as though he was judging her -

"It's - people are behaving strangely, May." Weston said, "They are...from what I understand, we've been lucky, that there are already stories like your aunt's and it's only been a few days, it's not close to the worst I've heard."

"What have you heard?"

"Do you know about how other parts of the world are less...liberal about religion, they take it more seriously, places like the Middle East?"

May felt her throat go dry, and it had bothered her at the time, it had scraped at her awareness, but only now did it actually mean something -

'I saved Grandfather's bible...hope Whiskers made it out."

And she blinked, she felt a - a sense of - what? Shame? For doubting that faith was good - But no, no - this was all a miracle, right?

She hadn't really thought - she'd just drank - Why had she?

'How could they - and call it faith.'

"I think we may have been lucky." Weston said, "That Hickory thought he failed."

But May wasn't so sure - suddenly, that she agreed. Because if Hickory had come out screaming - shouting about what was true, like some religious people acted... Would she still have drank? Would she have told people at church that she had, that it was safe, that Hickory was a good person and it made sense that he would be chosen, would she have assumed -

May had never believed that Hickory had failed, he was so innocent. Too innocent...

Her stomach felt strange, twisted - and she suddenly had another reason to see him, to not just worship him -

"We need to find Hickory."