Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2)

by J. T. Lewis

  “A truly worthy opponent indeed!” he thought with satisfaction. No matter, if it was him, he was still taking a few of his last breaths on this earth.

  Chapter 72

  August 29, 1998

  “Damn!”

  I knew it had been going too well. We both stood still for what seemed like five minutes before I took another normal breath, breathing deeply to relax my nerves.

  Having heard nothing in that time, I slowly raised my foot, extending it out and laying my foot on the doorway jamb. Putting my weight fully on it, the house remained silent. Looking around the corner into the hallway, I saw nothing and motioned for Abby to follow. She deftly avoided the creaky spot of the floor as she kept close behind me and I entered the hallway fully.

  Walking along the bare wooden floor of the hallway, I observed that the house was very dark, and I wish now that I had brought a flashlight. Coming upon the first doorway, I looked around the door to find it empty. Making my way into the room, I noticed that it has been set up as kind of chapel, a small table one side holding a cross and some candles. There are heavy curtains over the one window blocking out most of the light, and the room smelled of must and mold. Lying on the table in front of the cross was a small leather book of some kind, so I picked it up and opened the front cover. Inside written in a practiced hand was a name, James Michael Girard…the monk!

  Turning to show it to Abby, I mouthed “He’s here!”

  Abby nodded, her senses seeming to heighten before my eyes as she turned and looked around, pointing to the couch on the other side of the room that had a blanket laying on it, looking like someone had slept there. Walking over to it, she placed her hand on the couch, confirming with a whisper that it was warm.

  Turning around, she then headed slowly for the door. Palming the book, I stuck it into my pocket as I followed her out of the room and into the hall. There were two other rooms on the main floor, all of them sparsely furnished and empty looking. Reaching the front of the house, I glanced upstairs with my gun before me. Seeing nothing, I started up the sturdy but worn steps. Trying to avoid another squeak, Abby stayed below until I had reached the top, and then proceeded to follow me up to the long dark hallway.

  The first doorway was three feet beyond the steps, and we positioned ourselves on each side of the doorway. Reaching down, I slowly turned the knob, holding the door back slightly as I did so. When I had it turned completely I looked at Abby, who nodded as I pushed the door open and entered quickly, Abby right behind me.

  Another dark room, with three bunk beds lining the walls of two sides of the room; the single window again heavily draped. On the third wall there stood a small table with five candles…burning.

  It was then that I noticed the smell.

  Having observed old kerosene lanterns throughout the house so far, I had noticed the occasional whiff of kerosene as I walked. The smell of it in this room was heavier… much heavier! Seeing nowhere for the monk to hide except a closet in the opposite corner, I made my way slowly over to it, Abby covering the door as I ripped it open quickly.

  No one was there, but my eyes were immediately drawn to two gas cans on the floor of the closet, which reeked of kerosene.

  “Let’s get out of here!”

  Immediately upon yelling this and turning, I saw the door closing to the hallway, the distinctive sound of the lock turning echoing throughout the room.

  Abby and I looked at each other for a second before we both seemed to have the same thought simultaneously.

  “The candles!”

  We both turned toward the blazing candles as one, watching in horror as they suddenly took off on their own, flying off the table and landing on the floor as if swept off by the hand of God!

  The floor where they landed immediately burst in to flames with a whoosh, and we watched in shock as the flame started around the room in both directions, joining together in the far end of the room in a matter of seconds.

  We were trapped!

  “Gabriel Celtic!” I heard coming from the hallway. “You have meddled one too many times in the affairs of God. He has told me through the words of the book that this is your day to die! Enjoy the coming hell; for it will be better than where you are going!”

  Chapter 73

  August 29, 1998

  Girard quietly waited as he heard the people out in the hall, a skeleton key in his hand. Thinking of it, he couldn’t help but be tickled by the name, considering what its last function would be. He had to will himself to keep from laughing loudly at the thought as he heard the door to the adjoining room open.

  Waiting a few seconds, he slowly turned the knob of the closet door and peeked outside into the hallway. The hallway was empty; they had entered the room!

  Slowly opening the door more fully, he made his way the few feet to the open doorway, peering around the corner to look inside.

  It was Gabriel Celtic; he had somehow eluded Mr. Leffler’s efforts to eliminate him, and had brought that young girl he had seen with him before. It was a shame she had followed him here, but there was nothing to do about it now.

  Quickly reaching in with his free hand, he pulled the door shut, inserting the skeleton key and turning it with finality. Leaving the key in the lock, he turned and ran back to the closet, giving the string sticking through the inner wall a hard jerk.

  The trap was sprung.

  He could hear the whoosh as the kerosene ignited, and pictured in his mind with pleasure as he imagined the fire ringing itself around the room, trapping them like rats!

  Walking back up to the door of the room, he put his face close to the door, already feeling the heat of the fire through it.

  “Gabriel Celtic!” he shouted through the door with relish. “You have meddled one too many times in the affairs of God. He has told me through the words of the book that this is your day to die! Enjoy the coming hell; for it will be better than where you are going!”

  The certainty of the meddling man’s fate brought a smile to Girard’s face, and a loud laugh floated down the hallway as he leisurely made his way down the stairs. The fire would take care of any other evidence; he had but to make his way to his car and leave for the airport.

  It was a good day!

  Chapter 74

  August 29, 1998

  A loud eerie laugh was heard through the door, and I could hear the sound retreating; he was leaving the house.

  “Bastard!” I shouted after him, the laughter renewing itself at my words.

  Turning to check on Abby, I saw that she looked frozen, transfixed at the sight of the fire, in shock. My heart stopped as I saw a line of fire heading from the outside wall directly at Abby!

  Running quickly the two steps to get to her, I quickly wrapped my arms around Abby’s waist and swung around in a half circle, narrowly escaping the fire as it passed. Reaching the center of the room, it branched out left and right while the original fire continued farther for a short distance.

  When it stopped, there was a cross burning in the middle of the floor, our final message from the monk!

  “Bastard,” I repeated again under my breath. Looking at Abby; she seemed to have regained her senses as she looked around at our quickly deteriorating situation. The room was rapidly being devoured by the fire, and the smoke was already choking us to tears.

  Seeing a chair burning against the wall, I grabbed it and ran toward the outer wall, flinging it through the curtained windows at the last second. The shattering of glass met my ears, as well as welcome air, although it promptly hiked up the level of fire and heat.

  Grabbing Abby’s hand, I said, “One chance kid, let’s do this!”

  We both start running toward the wide window, the curtains blocking it now burning at full intensity. Jumping through blindly, I said a quick prayer as our bodies were propelled through the burning fabric… into nothingness.

  “Betty!...”

  Chapter 75

  August 29, 1998

  I hear giggling!

/>   Although the situation seemed much too serious for such levity, it was definitely there. There! I heard it again, giggling and darkness, a warm enveloping darkness.

  I was trying to remember how I got here.

  The last thing I remember…I was jumping through a window?

  With Abby, we were jumping through a fire; I could still feel the burning cloth of the curtains against my skin.

  I tried to move my arms to look at my hands and I am unable to; I can’t even feel them!

  I felt like I was floating!

  “Who’s there?”

  “Hello?”

  No answer. This seemed familiar.

  Did I die jumping from the fire?

  “Hello? Did I die jumping from the fire? Hello?”

  Still no answer, but more giggling…

  I felt a breeze, and grass; I could smell grass too. No longer floating it seemed, but still comfortable. I liked this place.

  “Gabe!”

  I was being buffeted, the earth was shaking.

  “Gabe, get up; he’s getting away!”

  I instantly sat up; Abby was looking at me with concern in her eyes. I looked around; the house was burning, the fire spreading to the rest of the house.

  It is hot! We gotta move.

  “Where?” I asked, still confused

  “He’s in his car!”

  I jumped up, and reached for my weapon…gone! Looking around on the ground, I found it next to where I was laying. Snatching it up, I ran around the side of the house, seeing the old car back out of the garage and into the yard as he turned around, ready to leave.

  I ran as fast as I could and got in front of him in the driveway. Leveling my gun at the windshield, I yelled for him to turn off the car and get out!

  The glare of his glasses looked out at me from under the wide brimmed hat. Suddenly a toothy smile erupted, the engine revving simultaneously as the car shot forward…right at me!

  There is no way this asshole gets away again!

  I aimed at his head along the barrel, but he was bouncing over the rough ground before the driveway, going faster by the second.

  As he got closer and closer, I kept adjusting my weapon, finally squeezing off a three shot volley into the windshield. The car never slowed, but continued on its course to run me over. I got off one more shot before leaping with all my might out of the way of the hurtling mass of steel…right into a tree!

  I felt the air of the moving car as it just missed me on its way into the front yard of the Abbey, still going full speed as it ramped over the crest of the little hill and nosedived onto the road.

  I jumped up quickly, starting to head to the front yard when an explosion almost knocked me down again. A large ball of fire erupted over the crest of the little hill as I made my way to the crest, looking down on the wreckage of the monk’s old car, and of him.

  Abby!

  I suddenly remembered that she hadn’t followed me; was she ok? Concern that she hadn’t moved from the house soon enough kicked in my adrenalin once more as I sprint around to the back of the house. Arriving at the back yard I found…nothing!

  “Abby! Abby!”

  I heard coughing behind me. Looking around, I saw an almost black Abby stumble out of the house, holding files of papers in her hand. I quickly grabbed her under the shoulders, helping her away from the house and behind the garage to the car.

  Setting her down in the grass, I asked her what the hell she thought she was doing.

  Grinning and coughing at the same time, she held up the files in her hand.

  “I (cough)…got (cough) these…”

  A fit of coughing cut off any further discussion, but she held onto the grin.

  I called 911 on the cell phone to report the fire and the need to an ambulance to treat for smoke inhalation. Abby was more comfortable now, coughing less so I helped her into the car and leaned the seat back.

  Walking around the garage, I was surprised to see the house nearly half gone, the roof having already collapsed into the house. The heat was amazingly intense, even from where I was standing.

  I decided to move the car as I was uncertain if the garage would catch on fire or not. Getting in, I pulled farther into the field, turning around so we could watch the fire from there.

  “Gabe?” Abby croaked out between coughs. “How did we…I mean (cough)…we jumped from a second (cough) story window…how did we (cough)…?

  “For now, let’s just call it a miracle…shall we?” I said with a smile.

  “I’ll tell you some stories…later…when you’ve recovered,” knowing it was going to be hard to explain, especially since I really didn’t understand it myself.

  If she only knew!

  “We did (cough) it though!” Abby got out slowly, her grin even wider.

  I could hear sirens in the distance approaching as I looked upon this accidental child of mine, this true miracle I had been suddenly blessed with. My life was once again forever changed, and this time, it was a good thing!

  “Yes we did kid,” I said with a smile, answering her question while looking at the burning house, then looking back over at her.

  “Yes we did.”

  It was a very good thing indeed.

  Epilogue

  September 5, 1998

  The room was as inviting as ever as I sat on the comfortable chair and took up the mug of the heavenly brew. A new game was awaiting me on the board, white toward me this time; so I started first.

  I mulled over the various strategies available, trying to decide which one to go with, but finally settled on no strategy as I moved a random pawn. I smiled as I sat back with my coffee and let the aroma fill my senses, thinking about my grandfather as I always did when involved in a chess match.

  The fire crackled in the fireplace, drawing my attention to the yellow flames as they climbed toward the chimney, as always reaching farther than their fuel would allow before disappearing into a wisp of smoke.

  I pondered that thought, realizing that in a way, that’s what I had been trying to do, in a lot of things in my life, trying to attain the unattainable, while burning my fuel needlessly.

  Comforting thoughts of Betty entered my mind, of the last time we had actually talked, in this very room when she had come to me in spirit. I had been trying to reconnect on that level since, but now realized that while that could happen, it was unlikely that I could ever make it happen. Even when she told me that everything would be ok, it seemed to be a herculean effort on her part to get the message to me.

  I smiled then, knowing that Betty would watch over me, be with me my whole life, and that would be enough. It was more than I deserved.

  I leaned back on the chair, realizing that my eyes were heavy. I tried to keep watching the flames, but gradually they closed completely.

  Prying them open again, I was looking at the dark ceiling of my bedroom, the clock to my left displaying 5:30. I moved slightly, and pain shot through my shoulder. I hadn’t realized until the EMT’s arrived that I had damaged my shoulder when I had jumped out of the way of the monk’s car, torn my rotator cuff. The adrenalin of the day had apparently masked the pain until I had tried to help Abby out of the car.

  I remember thinking at the time how I had just jumped blindly out of a second story window without incident, yet jumping out of the way of a car had so easily damaged me. A few days later, Abby had brought up once more the strange coincidence of us surviving unscathed the fall from the upstairs of the house, and I had let her in on the secret of my visions and sometimes charmed life. A very rational person, she looked at me disbelieving, thinking I’m sure that I had also cracked my head in the fall.

  She would be a hard sell I was thinking, but I looked forward to the time we would have for me to convince her.

  Abby had revived quickly when the EMT’s gave her a dose of oxygen, but they still took her to the hospital overnight for observation.

  The papers she had recovered from the Abbey were mostly paid utility and
repair bills, but investigators looking into a number of phone calls to Indianapolis from the Monk’s cell phone established a connection to his accomplice, Bishop Mark Carmichael, Coadjutor to the Archbishop. Looking into his background, a longstanding connection could be made to Girard, starting with their undergraduate class at the University in Avignon.

  Allen Vanguard had become involved by then, personally taking this information to the Archbishop in Indianapolis. Calling Bishop Carmichael into his office, he had admitted to knowing Girard and periodically helping him get placed in various parishes over the years. He fervently denied any knowledge of the Monk’s tactics used to accomplish his missions however. His retirement from God’s service was arranged that very afternoon, Allen holding off on prosecuting him until he had more evidence.

  Later, the Archbishop apologized to Allen, asking his forgiveness for questioning his investigation, which Allen gallantly accepted.

  Allen and I had come to terms before all of that happened, he apologizing for questioning my investigation. He was horrified when he found out that Abby was my daughter, falling all over himself for saying what he had in the heat of the argument.

  I had also apologized for hitting him…so hard.

  He had asked me to come back once more to work as his investigator, but I had graciously refused, unsure as to where my future laid at the moment.

  Looking at the clock once more, I realized that I had been laying there for a half an hour. I groaned as I rolled to a sitting position, still unbelieving how long it was taking to get over this injury. Age was definitely creeping up on me.

  I was getting used to the bed again, having been “convinced” by Abby that it was the smart thing to do, at least while I recuperated. The ghosts of the room were mostly gone, only the good memories remained, and I felt very comfortable being here now.