The Revelation of Gabriel Adam

by S. L. Duncan

  “Really, they grew out of it? Mine are entrenched.”

  “No, actually. My parents died when I was younger. I’ve been in foster care ever since. But they did manage to leave a bit of a trust fund for me when I turned sixteen. So, sans proper parental guidance, there’s always the lovely substitute of money.”

  “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean—”

  Yuri waved his hand. “No. Seriously, I was quite young. I don’t honestly remember either of them. Just vague memories. Sunday school. Holiday. That sort. And it’s not like I’ve been left wanting.”

  “Wow. Why don’t we talk about something more serious?” Gabe laughed. “Any horrible tragedy you know of that we’ve missed?”

  “We’re a tragic lot, you and I, eh?” Yuri laughed, too.

  “Oh, I got one: my home in New York, which was a church by the way, burned down, and somebody was murdered in the process. How’s that?”

  “Jesus. You’re having a laugh, right?”

  Gabe looked deadly serious at Yuri and then smiled. “Yeah, I’m only joking.”

  “You’re a bit off, aren’t you? You need a sense of humor transplant or whatever.” Yuri laughed again. “I’ll tell you what, though. I can understand your frustration with Professor Carlyle. I’ve got several grievances with the authorities at Collingwood.”

  “No offense but you seem the type that has a grievance with any authority.”

  “Maybe I do. I’m the only authority I need in my life. There’s too much structure in this world. Take the university, for instance. What business is it of theirs what you do in your private life? They expect us to act like adults and then treat us like we’re to be coddled. That’s ludicrous, and that’s not how the real world works. You should tell that Carlyle to get bent. Properly.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Seriously, I would. Let him know you’re no pawn in his game. No prat to be pushed around. Nothing like a little affirmative rebellion to get some respect, I say.”

  “You think?”

  “Damn right I do. If you don’t respect yourself around him, he’ll never respect you. You can see whomever you damn well please, and he can’t do anything for it.”

  The words sank to the very core of Gabe. His own freedoms were being taken away from him. And now they were asking him to take the Entheos Genesthai and give up everything that he was. How did he not see this before? Yuri’s right, he thought as he finished his beer.

  “Another round? I’ll buy,” Gabe said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Inside Rixy’s Nightspot, music synchronized with a ballet of colored lights showering the dance floor while lasers ricocheted around the club. Gabe couldn’t help but feel too young for the crowd, a fake waiting to be discovered by the adults. Still, he nodded to the DJ’s beat, trying to stay lost in the new experience, the responsibilities of tomorrow forgotten.

  The air inside the discothèque felt warm and thick with humidity from body heat and smelled of sweat. From his perch at the bar, he could see an undulating sea of people moving hypnotically to the music.

  Yuri was amongst them on the prowl. Watching him work the crowd was like watching a con artist work a hustle. And it was a sort of art, too. He was a confident, decent-looking guy. Blond hair, athletic build. By most standards, Gabe expected him to see some success with the women. But not every woman in the club. No matter whom Yuri approached or what she was doing, each girl seemed captivated by his presence. They smiled, blushed, and swooned—all eager to dance or chat with him. The only time they looked bothered was when he moved on to the next girl.

  Yuri stumbled back to the bar and threw his arm around Gabe. “C’mon, mate. Time to get off the reserves and into the game. Get in there, son. These birds are effing gagging for it.” He snorted and took a long pull of his beer. “I swear to God, I’m through half of them already. Bloody townies. Easier pickings than at the student pub. But there’ll be none left, if you don’t quit this wallflower business.”

  “I’m the shy type, I guess,” Gabe said, not wanting to leave the comfort of the bar.

  “Nah, you’re just being lazy is all.” Yuri dragged him off the stool and toward the dance floor.

  They stood at the edge and surveyed the scene. For a moment, Gabe thought the floor was moving, his head floating in the last beer. He tried to count how many he’d drank during the evening, but he couldn’t put the numbers together.

  “Look—that one. She’s the one for you.” Yuri pointed to the middle of the floor.

  A tall and statuesque girl danced alone. She had her blonde hair pulled up and knotted in the back with a long ponytail. Strands of silky hair cascaded down her face. Blue eyes were half open as she swayed to the music. Her black-and-white minidress clung tightly to her athletic body and hugged every curve as she danced.

  “She’s out of my league. Way out of my league.”

  “Don’t give me that shite. That’s the old Gabe talking. There are no leagues. Don’t you see? It’s our world. Everything is for the taking.” Yuri pulled him closer and whispered into his ear, “I guarantee you can get her. You only have to want her. Project your desire, and she’ll be helpless. I promise.”

  His insistence put Gabe off. “I don’t know.”

  “You need proof? A demonstration? Watch this. I’ll show you how it’s done. See that girl over there?”

  Another girl, flanked by her three friends, was shooing away some poor guy trying to talk to her. She laughed with her girlfriends as the guy slinked off.

  “She doesn’t look interested in being hit on.”

  “It doesn’t matter what she thinks. Just watch.”

  With that, Yuri walked over to her. She turned and faced him with a wicked look in her eyes, obviously not happy with being interrupted again. But Yuri persisted, and in a matter of seconds, the girl’s expression softened as if she’d succumbed to some drug meant to numb the senses. Even in the dark of the club, Gabe could see her cheeks flush.

  Yuri bent down and kissed the girl deeply right in front of everyone. Gabe expected the girlfriends to protest or at the very least look disgusted with their friend’s behavior, but they wore an altogether different look on their faces—common desire.

  Yuri broke off the kiss and wiped his face as he walked back to Gabe, leaving her standing in a daze. “See. It doesn’t take anything. You just have to want it and let them know you want it. It’s in you. Reach inside and project your desire.” He locked eyes with Gabe. “If I can do it, then you can do it. We’re different, you and I, from this rabble. That, I promise. These townie girls won’t know what hit them. Now, no more talk.” Yuri shoved him toward the blonde girl in the black-and-white dress. “Go get her.”

  Gabe tripped slightly on the step up to the dance floor. The DJ spun another beat, this one faster, heavier. Its bass pounded against Gabe’s chest, and it felt good. The gyrating crowd made reaching the girl difficult. Heat emanated from their bodies, the warm air void of oxygen, yet blood surged through his veins, powerful and determined.

  Something drew Gabe toward her, whispering in his ear: Why not?

  She was older, sexy beyond measure, more so the closer he got, her hands running through her hair as she danced alone. Her piercing blue eyes locked with his and beckoned him to come. Her lips parted, glistening wet in the moving lights.

  Gabe did want this girl. The closer he got, the more she seemed to want him as well. He stopped trying to understand why and just accepted that she did. Her dance moves became provocative, hands up and down her body and over her dress, her curves, begging him forward.

  Just then, a large bald man walked up behind her with two drinks. His tattoos fit the rest of his look with pierced ears and a shirt that was several sizes too small. Gabe hesitated, but the girl kept dancing, her eyes still calling out.

  The man shook the girl’s shoulder, but she didn’t acknowledge him. She was in some sort of trance. He shook her harder this time, and she blinked. It seemed to wake h
er up but not before the man followed her line of sight to Gabe.

  The man’s muscles stretched, the spandex shirt nearly ripping as he flexed in anger. He clenched his square jaw and balled up his fists. Watching him react, Gabe almost expected fire to shoot out his nostrils. It would have been laughable had this guy not charged like a bull, throwing people out of his path to get to Gabe.

  A sound whooshed by his ear, and a bottle sailed past and struck the bald man in the face. It shattered in a frothy splash of beer and glass. Blood spewed from his brow as he fell to his knees and cursed loudly.

  Yuri leapt past Gabe and kicked the man in his bloodied face. The blow sent him crashing onto his back. The girl screamed, and then the club became a frenzy of excitement as security fought through the crowd to get to the commotion.

  “Come on! Let’s get out of here,” Yuri said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Yuri pulled Gabe along as they ducked through the crowd condensing around the screaming girl and slipped down the stairs of the club to the street, stumbling out into the frigid night.

  “I thought that guy was going to kill me,” Gabe said, feeling alive with nervous energy. He followed Yuri as he casually walked toward the order window of a street-side kabob shop.

  “And he would have if not for me. Don’t you forget it.” Yuri placed his money down and got a kabob, which he shoved into his mouth, spilling lettuce onto the road. “Hungry?” He chewed the bite and held up the sandwich, offering some to Gabe.

  “No. I’m too wired to eat. God, that was awesome.”

  “Just another day in the life, mate. Shame, the club. You looked to have that blonde right where you wanted her.” Yuri continued to stuff his face as they neared the Framwellgate Bridge.

  “Something was weird about her. Did you see? It was like . . . I don’t know.” Gabe tried to make sense of it, but in his excited state thoughts tripped over each other. “What happened?”

  Yuri stopped walking and threw his kabob into the street. He wiped his hands on his shirt. “What do you think happened?”

  Gabe shrugged and started laughing. “I have no idea. Beginner’s luck?”

  “Something more than that, I think. I wasn’t sure you had it in you. But you definitely exceeded my expectations.” Yuri stared at him. The hint of a smile formed at the corners of his mouth.

  “What?” Gabe asked.

  “We’re a formidable team.” He looked up at the Castle Keep, visible atop the hill. “Ever feel like you’re being held back? Like you’re stuck in a situation with no way out?”

  Gabe thought of what he had to do in the morning, and his anxiety returned. “All the time. What are you getting at?”

  “The future. Do you think you’re going to find it here at a university? Under the oppression of their rules and silly superstitions?” He had a fire in his eyes, a severity that made Gabe uncomfortable.

  “I’m suddenly feeling a little tired. Maybe it’s time we called it a night.”

  Yuri stepped forward, pressing harder. “You’re bigger than this; you just don’t know it yet. They’re holding you back—can’t you see? And they have no idea. No idea, Gabe. That makes them dangerous. To us all.” He was in Gabe’s face now. “I know people. Powerful people. And they know things, can teach us things. Things that we’ll need for the future. Stuff you would have to see to believe. What do you say? We could even trash Carlyle’s office as a parting shot.”

  Gabe took a step away from Yuri. Even through his muddled senses, he knew this wasn’t right. “What are you talking about? I’m not leaving Durham. I can’t. I won’t. I have responsibilities here.”

  “You don’t know what you’re turning down. I won’t be able to ask you again. Time is of the essence.”

  Yuri’s words sounded like a threat. The crowd from Rixy’s Nightspot caught up to them, and the street swarmed with clubbers. Surrounded by people, the two students stared at each other, not saying a word. Gabe felt like he was seeing Yuri for the first time, and the calm intensity in the boy scared him.

  “I have to go,” Gabe said.

  “Last chance, Gabriel.”

  Gabe didn’t look back. He ran, stumbling toward the castle with one question repeating in his mind: Who is Yuri?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Gabe lay in bed, the club music still hammering inside his head. His heart fluttered in a spastic, weird way—a residual effect, he figured, from the mixture of energy drinks and beer that coursed through his system. He needed something to drink, water to quench his thirst and flush the horrible taste out of his mouth. The comfort of the bed, however, refused to let him go. Buried underneath the covers and piled upon a healthy dose of regret, he felt a migraine building in the back of his head.

  He remembered leaving Yuri by the bridge and his offer to meet his friends, though the way he’d described them, they sounded more like business partners. Gabe wondered if Yuri was involved in some sort of illegal enterprise. Maybe selling drugs or gambling. With the way he threw money around, it didn’t seem that far-fetched. But there was something dark about him, something more menacing than the average jerk that Gabe couldn’t quite figure out. Regardless, he wanted nothing more to do with him.

  The club’s bass continued to pound in Gabe’s head until he realized it wasn’t a memory from last night. Somebody was at the door and banging hard.

  In an instant, he was wide-awake. The vials, he remembered.

  He threw back the covers, forced himself out of bed, then grabbed a pair of shorts from a pile of dirty clothes in the corner and tried to put them on. Seeing his reflection in the mirror on the wall, he realized that he was fully dressed in yesterday’s outfit.

  That’s convenient, he thought and threw the shorts back onto the pile.

  He barely had the door unlocked when his father barged through. “Where the hell have you been? The Vatican informed Carlyle that the vials were delivered to you by the messenger. Is that true? We’ve been calling your mobile since last night, for God’s sake!”

  “Sorry. I didn’t know.” Gabe looked at his phone. “It was on vibrate; I didn’t feel it go off.”

  “No excuses.” He took a step back. “You stink like a pub.”

  “Dad, keep your voice down. The other students—”

  “I don’t give a damn what the other students think. You are not other students! Do you even realize that we thought something had happened to you when you couldn’t be found? There are things out there that want you dead. Dead, Gabriel. Where are they? Where are the vials?”

  Gabe slumped back onto his disheveled bed. “In my backpack.”

  His father opened the zipper and removed the small box. He opened it and sighed, his posture decompressing and the red fading from his cheeks when he saw that the vials were safe. “If something had happened to you, to the vials, we would be lost. There is so much riding on you and Micah. Why can’t you see that?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . Micah told me what those vials can do. I needed time—”

  “We’re out of time. This is your life, whether you want it or not. You have got to take responsibility and realize that you have a higher purpose than”—his dad looked him over—“drinking yourself like some fool into a stupor like other students do. You have a greater purpose. Do you not yet understand that? Even after all you’ve seen?”

  His father stood, gently closing the lid on the small box. “You need to persevere. There is still much to prepare for and even more that will be asked of you. Did the messenger tell you anything?”

  “His name was Enoch. He looked normal enough but he didn’t seem . . .” Gabe couldn’t say the word human to complete the thought. It would only sound like fantasy. “He said we are to perform the ritual and then seek Solomon’s Ring inside the Ark of the Covenant.”

  His father’s legs seemed to give out. He fell into the chair by the desk. “Solomon’s Ring is in the ark? But it has been lost to time.”

  “They are both in Zion.
In Axum, Ethiopia.” Gabe felt awkward saying Enoch’s thoughts out loud.

  “My God. You are certain? That is what he said?” He drifted, lost in thought. “Discovered at last. We will need to make travel arrangements immediately. I’ll contact Carlyle and let him know, so he can prepare Micah.”

  “There was more. Enoch said Micah and I are the last archangels. The others are lost or turned. He didn’t know.”

  His dad looked as though the wind had been knocked from him. “Then the hour is later than we thought. I’ll take the vials to the vault. Be there in thirty minutes. You’ll need to pack. We’re leaving Durham.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Inside the vault, Carlyle and Micah waited, looking frustrated. Gabe walked in with his father, who had been waiting for him upstairs in the gallery. Several candles flickered in the blackened room, casting shadows on the walls and looking more like a dungeon than ever. Micah didn’t make eye contact with him as he sat in the chair in front of the desk.

  But Carlyle stared daggers. “Enjoy your break, boy?”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind yesterday,” Gabe said.

  “Hopefully you won’t be in the same frame of mind when the enemy makes an attempt on your life,” Carlyle said and stood from his desk where the box and vials were laid out. “I want to hear it from you. Where exactly did Enoch say we would find Solomon’s Ring?”

  “Ethiopia. A city called Axum, though he also called it Zion. He said we would find the Ark of the Covenant there and the ring.”

  “Idiot,” Carlyle snapped. “Do you know how valuable that information is? How many would kill you just to hear it whispered? If there is an argument against the existence of God, you are it. Because what god would entrust a damned fool like you with anything greater than tying your shoes?”