Gateway

by David C. Cassidy

  “Why does it want to hurt me?”

  “The gateway,” Jared said, and he looked at Marisa. He could see she did not understand. “Can I speak with you a moment? In the kitchen?”

  “Wait here, Kit. Jared and I will be right back.” Marisa led Jared to the kitchen and kept her voice low. “Spill it.”

  “I didn’t want to scare him,” Jared whispered.

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “This thing—this shape—it’s attacked Kit twice. But it hasn’t gone after him in the last few days. Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just thankful that it hasn’t.”

  “It’s making people crazy, right? All those monster thoughts. But now they’ve stopped, too. Even Kit’s not hearing them.”

  “But the bad things are still going on.”

  “Yes. And that’s what scares me most.”

  “Don’t tell me that.”

  “We have to close the gateway, right?”

  “Yes. Like yesterday.”

  “The shape knows this,” Jared said. “But think about it. It came through the gateway. Like it stepped into a room. If we shut that door behind it …”

  Marisa’s eyes widened. “It’s Kit—he’s the key to that door. It wants him dead! Before we can send it back through.”

  “The brass ring,” Jared said. “That’s what it wants. And then it’s here for good.”

  “And then what? What about you?”

  “Me? I’m just a host. It flowed through your son into me, remember? It feeds off of me. Like a parasite. All I really know is, as I grow weaker, it grows stronger. And when—”

  “Enough,” she said. “I don’t want to hear any ‘and when’s’, all right?”

  He nodded.

  “So why hasn’t it gone after Kit again?” she said.

  “It still might. But maybe we’re too late.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Rage and rapture,” he reminded her. “Maybe the link between me and Kit is weakening as the shape grows stronger. Maybe Kit’s no longer a threat. Maybe it can’t be sent back.”

  “We have to try, Jared. Don’t we?”

  “We do,” he said. “And it had better work.”

  ~ 168

  Jared sat on the sofa across from Kit. Marisa sat next to Jared.

  “Kit,” Jared said, “I need to ask you something, okay?”

  “Okay. But you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Fair enough,” Jared said. “The shape is after you because of the gateway. Somehow, it passed through you into me.”

  “The monster’s in you?”

  “Not exactly, no. It’s more like it’s around me. It’s using me to stay on this side of the gateway.”

  “Is that why you’re sick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we have to make you better,” Kit said. “We have to stop the shape.”

  Jared nodded. “Yes. Yes we do.”

  “It’s my fault, isn’t it? I let it through.”

  “Don’t even think that,” Jared said. “It was me, remember? I opened the door. But I need you to help me. We have to push the shape back to where it came from. I need you to help me to close the door. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.” Kit looked at his mother. “Are you okay, Mom?”

  Marisa was almost in tears. She dried her eyes and hugged him. “Mommy’s fine.” She kissed him and told him she loved him.

  “Kit,” Jared said, “I want you to know that this might be dangerous. For both of us. The truth is, I don’t know what will happen. If you don’t want to do it, we don’t have to. It’s your choice.”

  Kit looked at Marisa, then back at Jared. “I say we kick its butt.”

  Jared smiled, and Marisa blubbered as an anxious chuckle escaped her.

  ~ 169

  “Are you sure about this?” Jared asked Kit. He remembered asking Marisa the very same thing, after she insisted he try to open a gateway with her. And with that dread splayed across her face right now, he figured he was asking her, too.

  Kit hesitated, and Marisa said, “You don’t have to.”

  “Are you worried about a seizure?” Jared said. He could tell that Marisa was. So was he.

  “It’s not that,” Kit said.

  “What is it?”

  “What if I have a secret I don’t know about? What if it’s bad?”

  Jared smiled assuringly. “Oh, I doubt if you’ve got any secrets at all. And if you do, it’ll be our little secret. Okay?”

  “Mom?”

  Marisa nodded, tearing up again. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Jared moved up to the edge of his seat to get closer to Kit. “Maybe you should take those off.”

  Kit removed his glasses and handed them to his mother. His eyes were big, milky eggs. “Is this gonna hurt?”

  Jared looked at Marisa, who looked like she wanted to say no. She had suffered no ill effects when he had opened that window inside of her. But with Kit, their first connection had been disastrous. “I don’t know, Kit.”

  Kit nodded he understood.

  Jared looked at Marisa. “Be ready.”

  “For what?”

  “For anything,” Jared said. “If something happens, take care of him. Don’t worry about me.”

  Jared faced Kit. His finger was tapping, and Marisa stopped him with her hand.

  “Relax,” she said. “Both of you.”

  Kit put a hand in his pocket and pulled out his black stone. Jared thought he would close his eyes and start to count down, but instead, Kit reached out with an open palm, the stone beckoning.

  “Count with me, okay?” he said.

  Jared clasped hands with him, and they held the stone between them. “Keep your eyes open, Kit. Keep them fixed on mine.”

  “Okay.”

  “Here we go,” Jared said.

  “Ten,” they whispered. “Nine … eight … seven—”

  Jared felt the pressure of Kit’s fingers as they gripped his hand tighter. Kit’s hand was warm, but Jared felt his own growing colder. His entire body seemed to chill a couple of degrees. He kept counting, tried to slow his breathing, but it did no good. His head and his heart began to thrum as the gateway opened. His eyes grew wide.

  “Jared,” Marisa said, gasping. “Jared?”

  Kit’s eyes shot wide, and Jared’s locked with them. Their bodies trembled. Jared felt a rush of something flow through him. And yet, he did not understand. It was not human emotion. Not human at all.

  He braced himself for what he prayed would be next: A wave of darkness tearing from his soul as the shape took flight. Instead, his mind spun, struck by a wall of will. It was not sinister, not vile, not evil. Just a voice.

  And then it was gone.

  His pulse settled quickly, yet his mind still raced. His grip loosened, and Kit drew his hand back. The boy’s eyes were filled with uncertainty.

  “Kit?” Marisa said. “Are you okay?”

  Kit seemed to hesitate, but nodded.

  “Jared?” Marisa said.

  Jared said nothing. He was still coming down from the experience, and could not be certain that a part of him was not still trapped in that otherworldly place.

  “Jared,” Marisa said calmly. She touched him gently and gave him a shake. “Jared.”

  He emerged from his stupor. “I … I’m okay.” So far as he knew, there had been no ill effects in either him or Kit. No bloodshot eyes. No sprawling veins. No nosebleed.

  He turned to Kit. “You okay, bud?”

  A thumbs-up.

  “And?” Marisa said. “Is it closed? Is it—”

  Jared shook his head. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  His drawn face said it all. Marisa sighed deeply.

  “Did you hear it?” Kit asked.

  “Hear what?” Marisa said.

  Kit took his glasses from her and put them on. He looked up at Jared. “You heard it, right?”
<
br />   Jared wasn’t sure that he had. At least, that he hadn’t heard what he thought he’d heard.

  “Jared?” Marisa said. “What did you hear?”

  “A voice,” he said, seeking Kit for validation.

  Kit nodded.

  “A monster thought?” Marisa said fearfully.

  “No. I don’t … I don’t know what it was.”

  “What did it say? Was it Spanish?”

  “English.”

  “Kit?”

  Kit regarded Jared, and Jared responded for him.

  “… Weather … the storm.”

  From the look on her face, Jared could tell that Marisa was just as dumbfounded. She had heard the very same thing during Kit’s last sleepwalk.

  “Are you sure? Kit?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Marisa turned to Jared. “What do you—Jared—”

  His nose bled.

  Marisa hurried to the kitchen and fetched a box of tissues. Jared cleaned himself up. There hadn’t been much blood, just a trickle, but he sensed Marisa’s unease.

  “I’m fine,” he said, trying to reassure her. He repeated it to Kit, who looked just as unsettled. The fact was, he was far more concerned with what had just occurred. He excused himself and put the bloody tissues in the receptacle in the kitchen. When he returned, he felt four eyes bearing on him. He sat next to Marisa.

  “I’m fine,” he said again. To both of them.

  “Okay,” she said. “But what about this voice?”

  Jared looked at Kit. “Any ideas?”

  Kit didn’t answer. The question clearly unsettled him.

  “It’s all right,” Jared said.

  Kit looked at his mother, then up at Jared. “I’ve heard it before. In a dream.”

  “The other night,” Marisa said. “You were sleepwalking again.”

  “I know,” Kit said. “I should have said something. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” Marisa told him. “Did you know that you spoke the very same words?”

  “No.” Kit seemed to ponder. “I heard them before that, though. In a different dream.”

  “What was the dream?”

  “I don’t remember. It was at Jared’s house. When I found the gun.”

  “Was it the same voice?” Jared said.

  “Uh huh.”

  “What is it?” Marisa said. She was looking at Jared.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “There was something strange about it, that’s all.”

  “Strange, how?”

  “When a gateway opens, I usually sense something. The first time Kit and I connected, I didn’t—because of the seizure, I’m sure. But this time I didn’t, either. It was as if something else was blocking our connection. I heard that voice, but that’s all. It was like I stepped into this big empty room and someone turned on an invisible speaker at full volume. The words just slammed into my brain. The thing was, it wasn’t loud. It felt loud. I know how that sounds, but it really was more like a whisper. But it sure got my attention.”

  Marisa turned to her son. “Was it like that, Kit?”

  Kit nodded.

  “Did you feel anything else?” Jared said.

  “Kinda. It was like a friend was talking to me.”

  “Yeah. It was like that, wasn’t it?”

  Marisa tapped Jared on the arm. “Can I talk to you a second?”

  Jared followed her into the kitchen again. “What is it?”

  “Out with it,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Or do you want me to say it?”

  “Out with what?”

  “You think … I can’t believe I’m saying this … you think You-Know-Who is talking to my son.”

  Jared paused before he answered. He had been thinking it, yes, but of course it was crazy. All of it was. Still—

  “Well?” she said.

  He didn’t answer.

  Marisa shook her head, her expression dour. “First he hears monster thoughts. Now this?”

  “I don’t know what it is. But at this point?” He shrugged. “Okay, maybe it’s not God. Maybe it’s some guardian angel from the light side of the Force.”

  She narrowed her eyes, almost burning into his.

  “All I know is,” Jared said, “it felt … I don’t know … glorious. Heavenly.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I know how it sounds, Mar. But it’s all I’ve got.”

  “Fine. Okay. Let’s say I swallow the red pill. So what does it mean? What’s You-Know-Who trying to tell our child?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know. I mean, ‘Weather the storm’? What storm?”

  Marisa looked out the window. “It is getting gray out there.”

  “That’s a joke, right? I think you’re being a little too literal here.”

  “Sorry. But it’s your rabbit hole. You tell me.”

  Jared had nothing. He glanced out the window at the growing cloud cover, and wondered.

  ~ 170

  After a brief but intense discussion over whether they would tell their son Jared’s theory, they returned to the living room. Marisa had argued it was better to keep it to themselves, but Jared countered that Kit could handle it. And was summarily and decisively told no.

  Kit looked first at his mother, then at Jared. “Did you guys decide yet?”

  “Decide what?” Marisa said.

  “If you think it was God’s voice.”

  Jared glanced at Marisa. His expression told her that she’d better take this one.

  “… Uh … were you listening to our conversation?” she said.

  “No.”

  “Then why would you say that?”

  “Who else could it be?” Kit said.

  ~ 171

  “Well,” Jared said after Kit went upstairs, “I think he took it pretty well.”

  Marisa swatted him playfully. “You’re such a smartass sometimes.”

  “Give him credit. I think he’s handling all of this remarkably well.”

  “And you still think it’s You-Know-Who?”

  “Why are you afraid to say His name?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Because it’s not God. Happy?”

  Jared held her hand. “I get it. I do. But look at it this way. You know me. I’m a ‘show me’ kinda guy. Me. The guy who sees souls. I should be the easiest person in the world to convince. Up until now, I’d always figured I was some kind of freak of nature. That maybe what I can do wasn’t really anything but my zany brainy on overdrive. Denial’s a powerful thing, Mar. It’s so much easier to get through your day if you just tell yourself you’re crazy, instead of spending all that mental energy trying to prove that you aren’t.”

  “So I should just shut up and accept it?”

  “Kit’s been hearing monster thoughts. Hell, I’ve been hearing them. I would think a comforting voice is something we could all use right now.”

  They both turned to the window at the distant sound of thunder.

  “Okay. That’s just too weird,” Marisa said.

  “Still not a believer?”

  “I take it back. You’re always a smartass.” Her gaze fell.

  “Mar?”

  She looked up. “What do we do? How do we stop the shape?”

  Jared glanced at the window again. “I’ve got an idea.”

  ~ 172

  “You do realize they put people in rubber rooms for stuff like this,” Marisa said. She stood outside the driver’s side window of the Land Rover.

  “Have you got a better idea?” Jared said, buckling up. He didn’t really believe in the one he’d come up with. Yes—it was crazy. But it was all he had.

  “He’s going to think you’re certifiable. And he won’t be the only one.”

  “I’d be the first to sign the forms,” he said. “I love you, Mar.”

  “I love you, too.”

  ~ 173

  Jared turned onto Fern Street and stopped in front of
an impressive, yet unfamiliar, stone home. It wasn’t his destination, but the large black letters engraved in the hulking quartz boulder on the front lawn caught his eye. The Vogels. He wondered if Marisa was right. Maybe Vogel was the Phantom. He was the right age, and certainly had the surgical skills. Whether he possessed the requisite cruelty and depravity, only God could know.

  He lingered a minute and drove off. He made a promise to himself that if they got out of this mess alive, he’d do some digging into the good doctor’s past. But right now, the Phantom was the least of his worries. And the least to the souls of Torch Falls.

  He turned off Main. He had no intention of stopping, yet he found himself pulling over in front of the Eight-Ball. His heart felt heavy, and it was all he could do to keep his mind on the task at hand. Everything had changed so quickly. All in a New York minute.

  In his mind, he saw a vibrant Tom Greenwood standing there on the concrete steps with a broom in his hand. At the corner, he imagined the poster on the lamp post was an ad for duct cleaning, not the smiling face of a missing man, one whose wife and child had been gunned down by the unwitting hand of madness. Across the street, he saw a handsome young man wearing earbuds, grooving not to the beat of his favorite song, but to the beat of his heart for the love of his life. And in the street, not far from where he sat in his overpriced luxury SUV, he saw the blood of that young man … the blood of the dead.

  And he knew: More would be spilled.

  ~ 174

  Jared pulled onto Chestnut Street and drove slowly. Given the situation he should have hurried, but he wondered if he should just turn around right now. This was crazy.

  He stopped at the house on the corner. The fever dizzied him, and he turned up the A/C. Already his finger was tapping on the wheel.

  He turned off the engine and got out. The home was modest, simple brick and siding. It had a curving stone walkway and a small fountain in the middle of the nicely trimmed lawn. A dark blue Malibu sat in the driveway.

  He made his way up to the front door and rang the bell. When the door opened, he didn’t know what to say. By the look of it, the owner of the shocked and troubled eyes that met his didn’t either. So he simply said what popped into his head.