Gabriel examined the wheelchair apparatus again and almost laughed at his own stupidity. He reached down and unscrewed the air valve on the jammed tire. He heard the hiss of trapped air escaping. It was enough. The wheelchair rolled free of the pew. The device was now an unbalanced and awkward mess, but it still rolled well enough. Hips started for the door and then glanced backward, waiting for his rescuer to join.
“Go!” Gabriel shouted. Hips whined, looking between the priest and the door.
Gabriel tried to lift himself off the floor and felt something in his body give out. It was not unpleasant—like the fatigue that comes after thirty minutes on the treadmill. He dropped to his knees because his legs would no longer support him.
Hips took a step back toward Gabriel. The priest would not let that happen. He pulled off a shoe and threw it at the dog. “Go!”
That was enough. Hips ran out the door to safety.
“Thank you,” Gabriel said. His eyes darted around the sanctuary. He wanted to remember it all. His gaze finally landed on the stained glass image of Abraham and Isaac above him. He watched the glass finally shatter from the heat. Isaac was free.
“I am the ram,” Gabriel whispered. A smile brightened his weary face. He closed his eyes to the heat and smoke and embraced his victory. Then his old friend Christ dropped down from his cross on the ceiling and swept over him.
That was where Kendall found him.