The Gates of Gabriel

by Marie-France Leger

  Without explanation, Beau replied, “I’ll be there in ten.”

  He hung up the phone and threw on his shirt, scrambling for the door. The panic in Maya’s voice repeated in his head the entire drive. He tried to think about the mission, Gabriel, home… But all he could think about was her. Many of their encounters were coincidental, but not this one. She reached out to him on purpose. She needed him, and that was enough.

  He pushed on the pedal harder, digging his nails into the leather of the wheel. “I’m here Maya,” he breathed. “Always.”

  Chapter 15

  Kleaton’s Gate, June 25th

  “I’m sorry, my room’s kind of a mess.” Braum said to Marina, sitting on his bed.

  His buzz had slightly worn off, which excited him. As much as he hated to admit it, alcohol always lowered his performance in the bedroom department.

  “Oh don’t apologize,” Marina replied, tracing her fingers over his desk. “I enjoy a little chaos.”

  She kicked off her heels and pushed Braum onto the mattress, taking off his shirt. He slid off her dress and left the fishnet tights on, yanking at the cross-patterned string. Braum moaned as she went down on him, bobbing her head.

  Marina knew what she was doing. It would only take one kiss, and Braum would be a slave to her. The more he wanted her, the less he would want anything else.

  Braum pulled her up over his legs and leaned in close to her face, but Marina pulled away. She was taunting him, and she quite enjoyed it.

  “Ah, ah, ah.” She chuckled, straddling him.

  “Please,” Braum pleaded, digging his fingers into her back.

  Marina traced his neck with her lips, her fingers sliding over every inch of his body.

  Over time she grew agitated, finally facing him with venomous eyes. “You’re going to be mine,” she laughed, cupping his face. “Poor Braum… You do not know what I have in store for you.”

  And she kissed him.

  ◆◆◆

  Present Day

  Tommy hadn’t heard from Braum since the night he left for the bar. They never went more than two days without communicating with each other, so he began to worry.

  “What if he overdosed on something, man?” Tommy suggested.

  Ky shrugged his shoulders. “Should we call Mike?”

  Tommy shook his head. “You’d get a better answer from a brick than his own dad.”

  Tommy paced around his basement, thinking of logical solutions to get in touch with Braum. He never wanted to go to his place unannounced; last time he had, two half-naked girls chased him away with sharp stilettos… Yeah, never again.

  Though, Tommy was running out of options. “Fuck it, let’s just drive to his house. Mike’s probably workin’ right now so he won’t give us a hard time.”

  Ky agreed and they were out the door in minutes. When they reached Braum’s house, they noticed his 2006 Corolla in the driveway.

  “Well, he’s home,” Ky muttered.

  Braum had given both Tommy and Ky spare keys to his place just in case something bad happened between him and his dad. They knew how short fused Mike was when it came to Braum; anything could happen at any given time. He treated him like his own personal punching bag, as if Braum was the reason for his addiction issues. It seemed as though Braum had a bruise for every inconvenience that set off Mike, and Braum had many bruises.

  Tommy hesitantly unlocked the door and called out, “Braum!”

  “Buddy, you here?” Ky added. “We saw your car in the driveway.”

  No response.

  Tommy walked to the kitchen, noticing a bowl of soggy cereal on top of the table. Overhead lights flickered on and off, emitting a buzzing sound. Huh?

  The air was heavy, and something didn’t sit right with Tommy, but he had no idea what it could be. He glanced to Ky with uneasiness and made his way to the staircase.

  Tommy took one tentative step before placing an arm out in front of Ky. A pungent odor engulfed his senses, putrid and rotten. He sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?” He sniffed again. “Ky, do you smell that?”

  Ky scrunched his eyebrows and stuck out his nose, taking a whiff. “Kind of, what is that?”

  Together, they crept up the stairs carefully. As they got closer, the smell grew more intense, almost intolerable.

  “Fuck,” Tommy spat, covering his nose. “It smells like death in here.”

  Ky took the lead and climbed to the top of the stairs. All three doors were closed except Braum’s. Light spilled out from a small gap in the doorway.

  “Braum?” Ky called out again, covering his face with one arm. “Braum, buddy, you’ve got to crack a window.”

  Tommy opened his door and peeked in, but Braum was nowhere to be found. The room was still messy and nothing seemed to have changed. They paced around until Tommy’s eye caught a small piece of paper sitting on his bed.

  In messy red ink, the note read:

  acquiring target

  Tommy raised his eyebrows in confusion. Acquiring target? Like, in Call of Duty? He wondered if Braum was still angry about the other night when he hadn’t gone to Pinkie’s.

  “What is this shit? Is he messing with us?” Ky asked, irritated. “Fuck man, that smell!”

  Braum loved playing pranks on them ever since they were little kids, but this seemed… different. A gut feeling told Tommy that something was very wrong, no matter how much he wanted to believe otherwise.

  They took one last look around the room before backing into the hallway. “Let’s just go, he’s probably at the bar again.” Tommy said.

  As he strode by the bathroom, a shadow moved quickly in his peripheral vision, underneath Mike’s closed door.

  A pit formed in his stomach. “Ky – Ky, did you see that? Did you fuckin’ see that?” he panicked.

  Ky’s chocolate eyes darted around the corridor. “No? What?”

  Goosebumps surfaced all over his body, picking at his flesh like hornets. “I saw… I saw something in the corner of my eye, in Mike’s room.” Tommy’s voice cracked.

  They moved past the staircase cautiously, tiptoeing to the front of Mike’s door. In dead silence, only the floorboards creaked beneath them. Tommy buried his nose in his shirt, plugging it with disgust.

  “On three?” Tommy whispered.

  Ky nodded wearily.

  “One… two… three!” they yelled in unison, kicking the door open.

  The silence was deafening. A crow sat on the open windowsill, its merlot eyes fixated on them. Tommy remembered the days when he used to go hunting with his dad; the smell of a rotting animal abandoned by other hunters. When his dad would skin the carcass, their lifeless eyes stared back at him while their blood dripped and dripped.

  Tommy couldn’t stomach the gruesome scene that painted the room. Years of hunting could have never prepared him for this moment. His heart leapt into his throat and his guts clenched, paralyzing his breaths.

  He stood by Ky, frozen in fear.

  Neither said a word.

  Not a sound came out.

  “T – Tom…” Ky stuttered in shock.

  The mutilated corpse of Braum’s father hung from the ceiling fan, spewing blood from every hole like a fountain. Just above his navel, two words were carved in red:

  target acquired

  Chapter 16

  Kleaton’s Gate, Present Night

  “Thanks for picking me up.” The familiarity of Beau’s car eased my panicked thoughts.

  His dark hair clung to his forehead, shaggy and wet. Sweat glistened atop his tan skin like gloss. Shit, did I interrupt his workout?

  He kept his eyes on the road and cleared his throat. “What happened?”

  Well that is the question, isn’t it. I kept quiet for a few moments, picking at the edge of Mags’ cupcake box. My phone was vibrating like crazy, but I was too anxious to check it. Every time I hit decline, it kept ringing and ringing.

  “Could be important,” Beau said.

  I briskly fl
ipped it over and saw thirteen missed calls from Tommy. Really not the time. I shook my head and turned my cell off completely. I didn’t want to deal with him, not after what just happened.

  I slid the phone into my back pocket. “Just my ex, Tommy.”

  “The guy at the station?”

  I nodded, adjusting the heat warmer in my seat. The night was humid but being around Mags left chills all over my body. I couldn’t stop shaking. My thoughts buzzed around like bees, trying to comprehend what happened at the restaurant. Who was she? I wanted to scream, but at who? Her, or Siles? Was this part of a prank? No, she insulted my mom. She stabbed my heart numerous times, and twisted the knife. How could she? Now she’s dead, and you can use it… Her words repeated in my brain, jabbing at my skull. Forget her, Maya. She chose Siles over you.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Beau sucked me back to reality.

  Did I want to talk to Beau about it? What if Mags was right? Maybe I hadn’t known Beau as well as I thought… Or wanted to believe. What if I can’t trust him? But I could trust him. I’ve trusted him before, and he never hurt me. Beau was closed off, mysterious and if I was being honest, a tad shady. But… I trusted him. He picked me up, and without an explanation he was here, when I needed him most. That counts for something. Let him in.

  “I just –” I stuttered, searching for the right words to even describe what happened. “Mags and I hadn’t spoken since the casino. Then out of nowhere, she randomly showed up at my house with apparent dinner plans that I was obviously unaware of. Then we came here, to this place that I – we, couldn’t even afford.”

  Beau chuckled softly. “Who doesn’t love overpriced cob salad?”

  “Exactly!” I continued to talk. I thought maybe saying it out loud would help me rationalize the situation. And in a weird way, it helped.

  He listened to the whole story, from start to finish without interruption. I told him about the way she looked at me, the scene she made, and the insensitive comment she said about my mom, which Beau flinched at. I also mentioned the price of the garlic sticks, which he laughed at.

  “She was so mean Beau, to everyone, to me. It was like she was a completely different person, I didn’t even recognize her.”

  My stomach grumbled and ached. Food was the last thing on my mind at the restaurant, around Mags’ cold demeanour. But all this talking made me realize that I hadn’t eaten anything at all and puked up all of my breakfast. I was hungry.

  “I need food.” I opened Mags’ cupcake box and took the dessert in my hands.

  It was red velvet with buttercream frosting, covered in heart shaped sprinkles. She knew I hated the cheesecake icing. At least she remembered that. The sweet smell of sugary goodness filled my stomach. I took a mouthful and leaned my head back, moaning with satisfaction. After a few more bites, I finished the entire thing.

  “Jesus. Ever look into competitive eating?” Beau joked.

  Only his laugh was distant. It started with a soft chime, then the ringing grew louder, penetrating my ears with metal clangs. My vision blurred, the stop lights twisting together like a tornado. A hollow pain bubbled in my stomach as the cupcake began to crawl its way up my throat, begging to come out. Everything spun, and spun, and twitched and shook. Nausea hit me as I squirmed in my seat, trembling.

  “Maya?” Beau. “Maya!”

  Close your eyes. Close your eyes. I reached out to Beau but couldn’t feel a thing. Close your eyes. The motion, it stopped. Darkness encircled me, fading fast, fast, faster…

  Then, nothing.

  ◆◆◆

  I woke up in a bed with a heavy wool blanket draped over my body. The yellow hue of a small lamp was the only source of light aiding my vision. Uh… where am I? The room was small and blackout curtains hung on the steel rod next to me. My head pounded against my skull, my eyes still configuring to the dimness of my surroundings. Behind the closed door, I could make out a faint nose in the distance.

  I shut my eyes again, trying to ease the pain. My head fell back onto the grey pillow, and only then did a familiar scent ignite my senses. Pine and mint.

  I scrunched my eyebrows and held my head, attempting to sit up. My eyes darted around the room, almost fully adjusted to the lack of light. There was practically nothing in here. A black cabinet in the corner, a laundry bin and a lamp atop a white bedside table.

  A knock on the door startled me and Beau’s tall physique slowly crept in, holding a glass of water. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, exposing every curvature of his arms. His dark hair swooped down over his forehead and his grey eyes twinkled, clear as day. Only then did it really settle in… I was in Beau’s bed.

  “Hey,” he smiled. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, handing me the glass. “How are you feeling?”

  I shifted in the sheets and took the water, chugging it back. The cold liquid cooled my throat with icy bliss. Water never tasted so good.

  My mouth was so dry and my head rattled. “Been better.” Isn’t that the truth.

  Beau sat across from me, watching with concern. I felt like a stray puppy that had just been rescued.

  “Beau,” I said reaching out to him. “It was just an anxiety attack. I must have passed out, I’m okay. It’s happened before.”

  But Beau didn’t budge. His features only grew more unsettled.

  “What is it?” I asked, placing the glass of water on the bedside table.

  Beau stood up and paced for a few seconds, lifting his hands over his head. I couldn’t help my wandering eyes from drifting to the v-lines trailing directly to his…

  “Maya, you don’t know what happened, do you?” he interrupted my thoughts. Thank God.

  I kicked the sheets off my legs and stretched. “I do, I had an anxiety attack.”

  He sat in front of me and swallowed hard, his grey eyes piercing directly into mine. The air was still, heavy. Beau remained quiet and serious, which worried me. He always had a comeback or an obnoxious line to ease any situation, but not this time. He was dead silent.

  “Earth to Beau?” I teased, pushing his arm.

  He cleared his throat and got up, leaving the room. What the hell? What was going on? Why am I even in Beau’s bed right now? I thought he was just going to drop me off at my house. He could have let my dad deal with the anxiety attack; he’d seen way too many episodes, especially after my mom passed away. It never really got any easier.

  Beau returned with two familiar white feathers in his hand, the same ones I saw in his car glove box a while back. He sat back down in front of me and placed them to the side.

  I couldn’t help my laughter. “What are you going to do? Tickle me to death?” I always made jokes when I was uncomfortable, and the uneasiness was reaching the point of awkwardness. I couldn’t help myself.

  His expression was dark. “I honestly don’t know how to tell you this,” Beau muttered.

  Putting aside the tension, Beau’s indirectness began to irk me. “Beau what is it? You’ve been dancing around –”

  “Maya, you were poisoned.” His voice held no trace of humor.

  I stared at him for a few moments, trying to process what I just heard. Poisoned? Poisoned! I chuckled once, then again and again. “You’re joking. I mean, really.”

  A vacant pain began to form in my gut, pushing against my insides. The uneasiness heightened, but not to a point of laughter… to a point of fear. I got up from the bed and moved back towards the wall.

  “Maya –” Beau reached out.

  I shoved him off, feeling the surging warmth erupting underneath my flesh. “No, no, was this – Was this your way of getting me into bed?” My thoughts raced a mile a minute. “I didn’t ingest anything, I didn’t –”

  And just like that, a tidal wave of emotions struck. Mags’ cupcake. I ate… I ate Mags’ cupcake.

  No, no. No! She wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t do that. Mags… she wouldn’t try to kill me. She wouldn’t poison me.

  “Mags – Ma
gs didn’t do this. I had an anxiety attack, Beau, that’s it.” I mumbled. “It was me, I had – I have anxiety, I have…”

  I sunk to my knees in the corner of Beau’s room, covered in sweat. As much as I didn’t want to believe it, as much as I couldn’t believe it… why did I believe it? How could I question my best friend in the whole world?

  Tears drowned my sight, dripping slowly down my cheek the more I contemplated the possibility. Through my glossy vision, I glanced up at Beau who kept his eyes fixated on mine, his expression inscrutable. His lips were pressed together and he didn’t budge.

  Why are you staring at me like that! What are you looking at! My head throbbed with pain, anger and confusion. “Say something!” I yelled to Beau, desperate, desperate for anything.

  Beau languidly pulled out a small transparent bag from his pocket and moved towards me, crouching down to my level. A small grey particle the size of a raisin was sealed inside.

  “This is a death cap mushroom.” He held up the baggy with two fingers. “It’s one of the deadliest mushrooms in the world.”

  He fully sat down, crossing his legs. “Look, I considered a lot of other possibilities too, Maya. Trust me, it’s not like I wanted to believe Mags would try and hurt you. But when I finally got you to rest, I checked the cupcake box and saw this.”

  Tears flowed down my face like a river, my mind tangled in hysteria. “How do you even know what that is? You could have drugged me!” She wouldn’t do this to me!

  “Maya!” Beau cupped my face in his hands, breathing heavily. “I never fed you, I never handled that fucking box!” His chest heaved up and down, eventually relaxing.

  “These mushrooms grow primarily in Europe and I…” he paused, pressing his lips together. “I lived there for a little while. The person I bunked with told me about them.” He twirled the bag in his hands and scrunched his eyebrows.

  Grim flashbacks resurfaced in my brain: Mags and her aimless outbursts, her seething anger, the smile on her face when she handed me that cupcake box… I wanted to hurl. I squirmed at the thought of eating the whole thing without realizing it was killing me by the second.