The War Gate

by Chris Stevenson

  “How do you know that?”

  “He’s led me to more than a few accident scenes where I was able to help out. One time I stopped a father from beating his daughter. I got a busted lip and a black eye in the process, but I stopped the violence. I’ll never know what might have happened to that little girl if I hadn’t appeared at that precise moment. He could have killed her. Janus led me there, like laying down a breadcrumb trail. It’s hard to explain how he works. You have to pay attention to every word he says to get the full meaning of it.”

  She looked thoughtful. “It’s just hard to imagine that a man like that can share our world without being discovered.”

  “Avy,” said Sebastian, pausing in mid-bite. “You’re not hard to imagine. You’re part of his essence. Janus is your father, the other half of you. It’s a pure miracle.”

  She had a hard time facing that realization. It was so complex, it was almost unimaginable. Yet something had happened to her for which she had no explanation. She just wanted to be Avy Labrador—normal like everyone else. It never occurred to her that she could be abnormal.

  “It’s easier to understand him if you know his origins,” said Sebastian. “The first thing I did was look him up at the library. I found some interesting stuff. Janus is the Roman god of gates, doors, beginnings, and endings. It’s said that he originated from Greek lore. He’s shown having a double face. Each face looks in opposite directions, symbolizing the past and future. He was worshiped at harvest time, while he reigned over planting, marriage, and birth.”

  “Do we know about any of these miracles he’s pulled off?”

  “One story relates that when the Sabines attacked the city of Rome, they attempted to climb a hill, but Janus made a hot spring erupt from the ground, driving the attackers off. After that, the gates of his temple were kept open in times of war so he could be ready to protect the city occupants. The gates remained closed in times of peace. He was worshiped as a deity—a vanguard against oppression, invasion, and injustice. January is named in his honor. That’s about the extent of what I know.”

  “Fascinating. It sounds like he fits that description.” Avy saw Sebastian’s eyes directed over her shoulder. She turned in her chair. A hefty man in uniform stood behind her, clutching a takeout bag. She looked up into his face. The man’s eyes brightened. Raymond Hammersmith dithered.

  Flustered for a moment, Avy pulled a chair next to her. “Chubby, what a surprise! Won’t you join us?”

  “Hello, Avy.” Chubby looked at Sebastian, his face souring for a second. “Oh, no. I see you have company. I just stopped off to grab a quick breakfast. I’m on my way to work. It’s nice to see you again. I was wondering how you were getting along.”

  Avy introduced Sebastian, explaining that he was a “good friend.” They engaged in some small talk. Chubby stumbled in conversation a few times after glancing at Sebastian. The tension in the air was palpable.

  Chubby handed her a business card. “If you need me at any time you just call so I can come running. You see right there? That’s my home phone number. Okay?”

  Avy thanked him. She watched him leave the restaurant, then turned back to Sebastian. “I think I owe you an explanation. He’s the man I told you about. Raymond, or ‘Chubby’, was a good friend of my mother’s. He spent over fourteen years with her at the Women’s Correctional Facility. He became her deathwatch guard, staying with her up until the end. He took her death very hard—it broke him up. When he saw me for the first time in Raleigh, it brought back some haunting memories for him. I went looking for him so we could talk about what happened in the past. We shared coffee at his trailer home.”

  Sebastian cleared his throat. “He’s not dangerous is he?”

  Avy waved it off. “It’s nothing more than a fixation. He’s sweet, just a little lost. I wouldn’t hesitate to call him if we ran into trouble. He’s loyal to my mother’s memory—even honor-bound by it.”

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes.

  “It’s not like that. It’s the resemblance.”

  Sebastian glanced at his watch. “I hate to break this up, but I’d better get back to my babies. They need some food and sunshine. They’re probably wondering about dad right now.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I forgot all about animals.”

  They left the restaurant. Sebastian took the wheel, giving Avy a chance to unwind. She watched the scenery, grateful for the reprieve. Her mind had been unraveling one strand at a time, like cheap carpet. But when she glanced at the man beside her, she knew that at least most of those dark thoughts could be canned. Sebastian understood much of the baggage she carried. He acted the part of her sanity preserver, a life ring in the middle of the ocean—a support system she needed badly. She wondered if this was what true love was supposed to be like.

  They pulled into the back alley and parked. Sebastian handed her the keys. “I sure get off driving this little purple heap. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Avy didn’t mind. It felt nice to be chauffeured around town, not having to fight her way through traffic. When they stepped up to the rear theater door, Sebastian threw his arm back, halting her steps. The door creaked, ajar. The lock mechanism had been pried out off the frame. It lay in pieces on the pavement. He gave her a look that said, break-in. She took a few steps back. He eased the door open and peeked his head in to look around the corner. She saw his shoulders stiffen, his fists clenched.

  “Whatever you do,” he said, “don’t come in here until I give you the all clear.”

  “I’ll stay.” She watched him disappear inside, wishing he hadn’t ordered her to stay outside. She wasn’t completely defenseless, but she appreciated the gesture, knowing he had gone in to check the interior for thieves or burglars. She hoped that nothing of value had been disturbed or stolen. Everything Sebastian owned and loved was inside the theater.

  She became more fraught as the time elapsed, wanting to barge in. Finally, he appeared at the door, a grim, ashen look on his face.

  “It’s not a pretty sight,” he said, his voice wavering.

  She followed him in, having not gotten more than a few steps before she froze in shock. At least eight doves were scattered about the floor in a gruesome spray of bloody feathers. It looked like a slaughterhouse. One rabbit lay broken at the foot of the cot. Two manikins, torn from their wiring, occupied fold-up chairs. Red paint slashes adorned their throats. Their glass eyes had been gouged out. Screwdrivers protruded from their chests.

  Avy tried to speak, but couldn’t manage more than a squeak.

  “They shot the doves from the rafters,” he said, kicking a few shell casings at his feet. “It looks like the rabbits were slaughtered on the floor. That message was meant for us.” He pointed to the manikins then raised his fists in the air, trembling. “Goddamn you for this. Hell is coming. I promise you that!”

  She didn’t know what to do at first, other than attempt to get a grip on her emotions. She stepped across the floor, hugging her shoulders while she looked at the carnage. It seemed hard to imagine that anyone could have committed such a vile act. They had torn the place apart, scattering all of his personal belongings from one end of the storeroom to the other.

  Sebastian picked up one of his birds and held it to his chest. “There goes the act. Everything is ruined. It’s all been for nothing.”

  She had no idea what to say. Outrage had now taken the place of horror. There was little doubt that Drake’s men were responsible for the devastation. This had been acted out on a personal level—one side warring against the other. A cold-blooded retaliation like this would not have happened out in the open. Yet if they called the police to investigate, accusing Cyberflow of the act, they would need concrete evidence linking them to the crime. Making accusations or starting an investigation would drive Drake Labrador deeper into his secret catacombs, which meant they might never find out what he was up to.

  “I know this is little comfort,” began Avy, “but those two plastic dolls co
uld have been us. It’s not over either, Sebastian. We both know who did this. Damn them all to hell. They’re going to pay for this.” She gulped hard, blinking back tears. It took all of her resolve to continue. “You remember what you told me—the show goes on. That means we have to get through this. They’re trying to scare us clean out of our minds.”

  He looked fed up. “They did a pretty good job of it if you ask me.”

  “I’m so sorry, baby. This is not going to happen again. We’re going to fight this thing. They know we’re on to something—all of this is proof of their guilt. Please, please gather your cages and go where you have to go to buy some more of your beautiful babies.”

  “I’m not leaving you. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”

  She took three strides, grabbed his shoulders, the tears threatened to flow in a dam burst. “Now you go! They can’t hurt me. They couldn’t catch me if they wanted to. We are not giving up or leaving. We’re staying right here. I’ll call Chubby. We’ll get help.”

  His head lolled. She could see him battling with the emotional turmoil. He walked to his cot, pulled a small pistol from under his pillow, and gave it to her. “Okay,” he said. “More babies. You take this in case. Just point and pull the trigger if anybody other than me comes through that door. I won’t be long. I’ll get another deadbolt for the door. I just feel bad about leaving you here.”

  “I’m going to clean up. Now get going. Remember I love you.”

  They kissed. Sebastian walked to the stage wing to gather his animal cages. After he left, she went to find a cardboard box, then gathered up the dead animals, making sure they were all accounted for. The small corpses had to be wrapped in newspaper, then sealed in the box. The box was taken out to the back alley and set against the wall. Back in the theater, she swept up all the feathers and bits of flesh, then picked up bits of bone, sinew, and entrails from the benches and joist beams. The janitor supplies in the bathroom provided a hot vinegar solution to disinfect the entire room. The manikins ended up in a dumpster out back, covered with sheets. It was hard for her to ignore the tragedy of the scene, and it took all of her willpower to think of pleasant thoughts.

  It took her two hours to finish the cleanup. The backroom was now spotless, with little or no evidence of what had happened there aside from a few obvious bullet holes in the overhead.

  Sebastian arrived home just when she sat on the cot for a breather. He wrestled the pens in through the door and took them to the stage wing. When he came back, he gave her an appreciative look. “Are the animals in that box out there?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I thought you might want to bury them. The dumpster didn’t seem the proper place.”

  “Thanks. Thanks for all you’ve done, sweetheart.” He left again.

  Avy went to the phone, digging in her purse for a certain business card. Chubby had his workplace number on the card he had given her. She called the prison and waited until they patched her through to Raymond Hammersmith.

  “Chubby, this is Avy. I’m sorry to bother you, but you said to call if I needed anything. I’m in some kind of danger. I wonder if you could help me.”

  “Danger? Holy shit. I’m glad you called. What can I do?”

  “Thanks, would it be possible for you to locate some people for me? I need addresses. No phone numbers. These people are part of the security force that works at Cyberflow, my stepfather’s company. Is there any way you could get that information for me?”

  “Okay, I know somebody who works in records at the downtown precinct. I can also check out the NCIC index. I can cross-reference that with Cyberflow employees to see if any of them show up there with records. But my best lead will come from the gal who does Cyberflow payroll—I had a couple dates with her about four months ago. That should cover most of the bases. Are we talking about just the security personnel at Cyberflow? All of them, Avy?”

  “All that you can find. That would be a great help.”

  “Do you mind if I ask about the problem?”

  “I was threatened, harassed. My evidence points to Cyberflow security employees. I’m afraid that’s about all I can tell you at the moment.”

  “Gee. That’s just not right. I’m sorry you have to go through something like this. I’ll get right on it. Do you want me to come over?”

  “No, that’s okay.” She gave him two phone numbers where she could be reached, making him repeat them back to her. “You’ll call me at the theater when you have something?”

  “Sure will. Bye, Avy. You stay safe now. We won’t let anything happen to you, gosh no!”

  She hung up the phone, then stood there for a reflective moment. Something about Chubby wrenched at her heartstrings again. He appeared to be so accommodating, but so aimless, so much alone. She suspected that he’d been living a soulful existence with the memories of Avalon Labrador packed deep down inside. Her mother seemed to have left such an impression on him that she might have been the single thing in his life that kept his clock ticking, filling his mind full of hopeful dreams.

  Sebastian came in after his burial detail. Avy could almost feel the heavy weight of his thoughts. She sat with him, placing her arm around his shoulder.

  “You’re the best,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Now, what are we going to do about these thugs? I feel like going off half-cocked with a loaded gun. You know, cap their asses.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I suppose not. But I do want to get even. They have to pay for this.”

  “I know they do. Just listen. I called Chubby. He told me that he might be able to dig up the home addresses on these security people. He can’t guarantee all of them. We won’t need all of them, though.”

  “What have you got brewing in your mind, Avy Labrador?”

  She gave him a grave, determined look. “I think Halloween is going to come very early this year.”

  Chapter 13

  Chubby had dropped off a notebook containing twenty-two addresses belonging to security personnel at Cyberflow. They were current addresses with fifteen of them located in the Durham and Chapel Hill areas. Seven addresses were located in Raleigh. She had the book with her now while they cruised the back streets of West Raleigh, looking for the first house number on Tipper Lane. Sebastian pulled the small Jeep to the curb, three houses down from the target residence. He said, “Be careful.”

  She stepped out, clutching her small prop bag. Dressed in black, along with a cap and dark gloves, she figured she could blend in with the shadows. The overcast blocked out what little moon hung in the sky. A slight drizzle made the air sultry, causing her clothes to cling. It was so quiet, there hadn’t even been a dog bark on the street, which had to be a good sign.

  She stepped onto the property of the first house on her list, creeping to the front door where she waited to listen. Total silence. All the lights were out. Two cars sat in the driveway. Sebastian followed her to the edge of the curb, obscured by a large tree.

  She readied herself. It was a two-story residence. She estimated that it held at least twelve doors or Gates. She needed to pass through the front door, stopping the cycle just like she had done at the Cyberflow plant. It would be disastrous to overshoot. It wouldn’t do to end up in a bedroom amongst sleeping parents or a child. She could not use the negative thoughts she’d used at the theater. With such pent up anger, she would travel through the entire neighborhood unchecked before she could stop herself. She thought of something that irritated her to a lesser degree, then walked through the door. Two brief sparks flashed before her eyes.

  It was completely dark. She reached a hand out, finding the surface of a wall. She followed it until she found a light switch, then turned it on for a mere second. She’d landed in a very small half-bath. She opened the door and stepped into a downstairs foyer that was attached to a sunken living room. A small light from the kitchen allowed her to distinguish objects. She crept up to a lounge chair and turned it over on its side. S
he piled the sofa cushions on an end table, then tiptoed into the kitchen. There, she quietly stacked several dining room chairs onto the kitchen table. At the kitchen counter, she turned one faucet on low, then plugged the sink. Out in the living room again, she noticed the fireplace had a gas log in it. She turned the gas valve on and struck a match to it, allowing a small flame to burn.

  It was impossible to exit through the front door in the conventional way without rousing alarm, so she Gate-Walked through to the other side. She trotted across the lawn to the Jeep where she joined Sebastian. After a moment, they were headed down the street, out of the neighborhood.

  Sebastian had trouble keeping the excitement from his voice. “That was quick. Everything go okay?”

  “Yeah. I made a little goof, but nothing earth shattering. Let’s just say they’ll wake up to a new arrangement in the morning.” They headed for the next address in the area. Sebastian drove to it, keeping an eye on his watch. They had just so many “dead” hours in the early morning to accomplish the mission.

  At the next house, Avy stepped through without incident and went right to work. She scooped up the contents of a cat box to distribute into bowls. She set the bowls on the dining room table, complete with full place settings. She found a hallway where she turned all of the family pictures upside down. She upended the couch, then hooked kite string to several pieces of furniture, fashioning a web. When the job was complete, she made the magical step through the front door. A moment later, she was secure in the Jeep.

  The next house presented a problem. When she appeared on the other side, almost blind in the dim light, she heard a low, throaty growl very close to where she stood. She made a quick pivot, stepping through the door again, hearing the sound of the dog hitting the front door with with a barking frenzy.