“Maybe we should just make it a habit to meet at midnight,” she said and then chuckled.
“What?” I said.
“It just hit me that you have to be careful how you use the word habit around here.”
I smiled.
“Well, see you later. I’ll look for you tonight if I can’t sleep.”
She gave me another nod.
“Oh, hey,” she said. “I noticed that we’ll both be going to the farmers market on Wednesday.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, I just came from the center. We’re on the schedule. Ever done that particular tour of duty?”
“No,” I said. “But from what I’ve heard, it’s not too bad. The monks deal with the customers. I think we just busy ourselves with the stocking and loading of the fruits and vegetables.”
“Peachy,” she said.
“No, I don’t think we grow any of those.”
She shot me a little smile, letting me know she appreciated my attempt at humor.
“That actually doesn’t sound too bad,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to getting out of here, even if it’s just for a few hours.”
As I took my dishes over to the bins, something hit me from out of the blue. Maybe something happened to Father Carmichael and maybe that’s why he wasn’t here. Maybe he fell off the roof again.
I shook it off and went outside to feed Oscar.
CHAPTER 39
I closed my eyes and watched the movement.
I could see and feel it clearly now, a powerful gray energy beneath me, spinning like a whirlpool in a river, pulling me into its orbit. I was still only at the edge, but there was no question that I was caught, and it was too late to swim for shore. There was nothing to do but let it take me into that turbulent hole that led down to a darker unknown.
The battle was coming, whether I was ready or not.
I knew in my core that if there was even the slightest chance of surviving, I had to figure out how to first beat Nathaniel in these dress rehearsals in my mind. But I wasn’t making any progress. Not really. Sure, I had come very close to defeating him last time. But it had come at a price. A doubt had started growing that maybe that was as close as I was going to get. That I had given him my best shot and come up just short. I was scared again. Not as in the beginning where it was a primal fear. This new fear was more cerebral, based in logic, and I couldn’t argue my way out of it.
I was like a dog that had been beat too long and I was scared of trying again. And the little confidence I had was slipping farther and farther away with each new defeat.
David was right about needing to keep hope alive. But it wasn’t just about hoping that one day my name would be cleared of a murder charge. I had to begin having faith about everything. That I would be ready when I left the abbey, and that Samael and I could somehow put an end to this evil. That we could rid the world of Nathaniel Mortimer, push him over the cliff and into a deep crevice so vast that he could never hurt anyone again.
I opened my eyes and took the rosary off the bedpost. I prayed it once before falling into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 40
I run after him through the forest of pine trees and catch up. He smells of river and juniper and whiskey, and as I let my head fall into his chest, I inhale, taking him into my lungs.
“I love you,” I whisper. “I love you so much, Ty.”
The moon bathes us in a rich milky glow as we stand there, facing each other. I stare into his light eyes, but there are shadows over them. I take his hand and place it on my pounding heart, letting the quick, hard drumming vibrate between us.
He leans over and meets my lips with his, kissing me deeply. I close my eyes and let our passion take flight. We are the river rushing toward the falls. Hawks climbing in the sky. Trains rumbling through the black night.
“Don’t stop,” I say, my words deep with longing.
He pulls back suddenly.
“Oh, I’ll never stop,” he says, his voice now strange and distant.
The terror rises up and I know it’s him before I even open my eyes. Thin lips spread across his face like road kill. His almond-shaped eyes pulse with a dark light.
“Our time has finally come, Abigail,” he purrs, his claws on me like a wolf on a deer. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
I woke up screaming.
I forced my body up and outside, and let the heavy air slap at me, reminding me that it was only a dream.
A terrible, terrible dream.
It was three in the morning and there was nothing to do but get out of there. To try and walk it off, to try and shake loose the horror that was embedded in my body and soul at having seen him again.
On his sick terms.
CHAPTER 41
I walked around for more than an hour on the cement path that snaked between all the buildings, alone in the quiet. I went past the seminary school, the vast gardens, and the dorms where the monks lived.
I thought of everything else but the dream. I thought about Bend and how much I missed the smell of the trees, the ducks floating on the Deschutes, the white-capped mountains of Bachelor and Broken Top and the Three Sisters. That first snow of the season, falling down like feathers. I missed it so much sometimes that I swore I could taste the cold on the tip of my tongue.
I went up to the church and pulled open the tall, massive door. It was dark and cool inside, the air heavy with incense and old smoke.
I took a seat near the front and looked up at a statue of John the Baptist. Like so many others, he had been put to death for his beliefs. That’s the kind of courage I desperately needed right now.
But was I really willing to die for this? Because right now, that’s where it felt like I was heading. I knew it was only a dream, but my dreams were rarely just dreams. I remembered how Samael had said that Nathaniel knew where I was and again I wondered if he had somehow broken through the monastery’s sheltering walls.
Inside, I could feel it, that whirlpool tugging at me.
It was stronger now.
It had begun.
I sat there for a long time and then said a few prayers before heading back. A thin layer of light painted the horizon as dawn approached. As I rounded the corner, I heard a noise and stopped. I relaxed when I saw that it was coming from Anna’s bungalow. I quietly stepped into the shadows so I wouldn’t give her a scare again.
The lone figure had come down the stairs and was walking across the lawn. But it wasn’t her.
I could see the face clearly in the muted half light.
Father Carmichael.
CHAPTER 42
I had barely gotten any sleep, but I felt strangely wide awake as the first rays of sunlight hit my window. I laced up my running shoes and headed out.
As I passed Father Carmichael’s bungalow, I saw that his light was on. I thought about how sad he seemed most of the time. Maybe he was just lonely, or maybe it was Anna who needed company last night. Whatever it was that was going on between them, it wasn’t any of my business.
It was good to have the darkness behind me and be out in the air, even if it was thick with mosquitos and dripping with humidity. I ran fast and hard and welcomed the sweat. I blew by a few of the runners who usually passed me and went by the cemetery.
I didn’t see the ghosts but I still wondered about the face in the painting. Did Rebecca actually see the ghost and accept it as divine inspiration rather than an encounter with the paranormal, or did the spirit of the dead woman imprint itself on her subconscious?
I finished my run strong, reaching deep down into my lungs as I crossed the footbridge. Father Carmichael was outside on the grass in front of his porch, coffee cup in hand.
I walked over and said hello.
“How many?”
“Ten.”
His energy was even darker than usual, moving in a slow, steady circle around him. I could tell he was thinking about something and that it was bothering him. As
we stood there staring up at the sky in silence, I wondered if he had seen me earlier when he left Anna’s bungalow. I had waited a moment or two in the shadows before going inside, but maybe he had sensed that someone was out there, watching him.
I couldn’t get an accurate reading on his mood, except that it was black. Was he nervous? Upset about something? Thinking of the right words to explain why he was at Anna’s cabin at five in the morning?
“Something the matter?” I went ahead and asked.
His eyes pierced into mine and he took a long sip from his mug before answering.
“No,” he said. “Just have a lot on my mind.”
“Okay,” I said as I started walking away.
And that’s when another of those flashes hit.
Father Carmichael was standing in front of a brick building, talking to a young woman. It was dark and I could only hear their muffled words and her gentle laughter. But it was definitely him, I could tell by his voice. When I saw her face lit up by the lights from a passing car, she was smiling. A moment later she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
And just like that the vision was gone.
I let out the breath I had been holding.
“Those clouds mean business,” Father Carmichael said, staring at me. “Feels like something big is coming our way.”
CHAPTER 43
In the late afternoon sunlight, I sat out on the porch and finally finished The Art of War.
I tried to summarize the most important ideas so it would be easier to keep them in mind when I confronted Nathaniel. The gist of it was this: it was important to keep a cool head in order to beat your opponent and to know him as you knew yourself. It was critical not to overreact. And it was best to give your enemy plenty of rope so that he could fashion his own noose.
I doubted Nathaniel would be there waiting for me in New Orleans. It wasn’t his style. His arrogance would keep him away. He would want me to come to him and not the other way around. If there was anything that I had learned in all these years, it was that he had a big ego.
What troubled me was what came next, when I would get back on the motorcycle and head down to the Florida Keys. The thought of that really got my heart racing.
I inhaled deeply before going inside, where I would try, try, try again.
When I open my eyes I am standing on the rooftop of a building in a busy city, a hundred stories above the cars and streets below. I feel high enough to touch the moon. But there is no moon, no stars. Only darkness.
I look down at my hands and see that they are empty. I have no weapon. But my heart is calm as I hear footsteps approaching on the gravel.
“Abigail,” he says.
I hear him but don’t see him. I step back from the voice as I search the darkness in front of me. I finally catch the slightest of movements and see him, illuminated by an unearthly light, standing tall, dressed in black. His hair is loose now, the first time I’ve seen it like this. It looks like rich black silk as it hangs past his shoulders. He smiles, his teeth bright in the dark.
I nod slightly, letting him know I am ready.
We circle each other and he strikes first, spinning and kicking. I duck out of the way at the last moment.
“Impressive,” he says. “Your reaction time is improving.”
I leap in the air and attack with hands of fury. I land a quick series of punches but they lack power and he takes a few steps back, smiling.
It goes on like this for hours. A martial arts battle to the death. Attack, defend, counterattack. Some of my kicks and punches find their mark, others don’t. It is the same with him. Attack, defend, counterattack.
He is right, I am improving.
And again I feel his strength wavering.
Near the end he jumps to a neighboring rooftop and I follow, gliding through the space between the buildings with no fear of falling. I roll into the landing and quickly get to my feet. It is a construction site, littered with tools and planks of discarded two by fours with precarious drop offs. Electrical wires hang overhead.
I hear him at the last second, the air swooshing above me. Nathaniel flies at me from out of the darkness. His expression is terrifying but I remain focused. I lunge to the left, just out of range. But my foot comes down hard on a board of nails. The pain is incredible and my shoe fills with blood.
He leaps down and comes toward me, sensing the kill. But I spin, sending the board flying off the side of the rooftop. As he watches it go over the side, I land a hard blow across his chest and I can feel the shock reverberate through his body and the fear register on his face.
I have hurt him.
He staggers backwards and falls. With each attack, it takes him a little longer to get up.
“You’ve grown much stronger than the last time we met,” he says after rising to his feet. “You remember that time, Abby? Back at the hospital with my poor, dead brother.”
He takes a step toward me.
“Why, yes, I can see that you do remember. Of course you do.”
I try and block his words from my mind. I try and focus on the finish.
“Poor unfortunate Benjamin,” he says, clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “But no worries. He’s with me now. Our own family reunion I suppose you could call it. He never understood me before. But all that has changed. He is now my right hand man, if you will.”
“Shut your mouth.” I can feel the poison of his words as they enter my bloodstream. “Liar!”
“Don’t believe me?” he says. “Ask him yourself. He’s standing right behind you. He’s here to help me put you in your grave.”
I look behind me, horrified.
He’s right.
Ben is standing there, with that same expression on his face he had the last time I saw him.
I can’t breathe. My mind is fuzzy. I gasp.
“Why?” Ben says, coming toward me. His face is empty and sad. His eyes are white. He’s one of the ghouls. “Why did you kill me, Abby?”
The final blow comes from behind.
I fall off the side of the building, dead before I hit the ground.
CHAPTER 44
“I think what you have going on here, Craigers, is what is referred to as a psychological block.”
I looked over at Jesse, anger in my eyes.
“C’mon now. C’mon. You’re saying that I don’t want to beat him? That I want to die?”
He shrugged.
“Just think about it. This is your visualization, right? You’re the home team here. And you still can’t beat him. What does that tell you?”
“That’s what I’m asking you,” I said before letting out a long sigh. “You’re supposed to help me see what I’m doing wrong.”
We were sitting on the porch while everyone else was at dinner. I went with a hunk of cheddar and a bag of chips so I could talk to Jesse. But he was beginning to irritate me.
“Okay, what about this. You’re actually learning a lot from these fights on a subconscious level but you aren’t aware of the progress that you are, in fact, making.”
“Are you just making this up as you go along?”
“That’s pretty much the size of it,” he said with a very serious expression.
A moment later we both busted up.
“It’s good to hear you laugh, Craigers,” he said. “You need to do more of that.”
“Yeah, I guess, but, Jesse, I need to figure this thing out. And soon. Otherwise I’m in real trouble. If I can’t beat him in my own mind, on my home court, what chance do I have when it’s his world and we’re playing for keeps?”
He leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs.
“What happens right before you lose?” he said.
“It’s different each time, but in this last one I saw Ben.”
“What?”
I took in a slow breath.
“Yeah, he was there at the end. Nathaniel said he had joined him and wanted me dead too.”
“Ah, he’s j
ust messing with your head,” Jesse said. “Or your own mind is messing with your mind. I don’t know. You know this guy so well, you’ve got him saying things he would actually say in real life. Which makes them lies. His brother isn’t with him, Craigers. You have to believe that.”
I nodded.
“C’mon, don’t you see what that really was? It was your own guilt coming through. You feel bad about Ben’s death, that you couldn’t stop it from happening. But it’s time to let that go. None of it was your fault.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I know you’re right.”
“Okay, here’s what you need to do. When do they pick up the trash around here?”
“In a couple of days. Why?”
“Because you’re going to get yourself a large bag and you’re going to fill it with all those rocks you’ve been carrying around. You’re going to fill it with guilt, over Benjamin Mortimer’s death and over having left Bend the way you did. You’re going to fill it with those doubts that keep you up at night, about whether you can really do this thing. And you’re going to fill it with all the other negative things you’ve got rolling around inside you. And then you’re going to put that bag in the trash.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll do it.”
“But that’s going to leave a big hole inside you,” Jesse said. “So things are going to want to fill it. You’ve got to decide which things to let in.”
“I will. I know I need to let in some faith. I’ve got to work on that. It’s what I’m missing. But…”
“But what?”
“I go to church. And I pray. And I read and read. But when I look around I have trouble seeing a plan or much evidence of a loving God.”
Jesse was quiet for a moment.
“You’re taking too much on, Craigers. Maybe you don’t need faith in those things right now. You have faith in what you’re doing, that it’s the right thing. That already puts you ahead of most people.
“You’re looking for all the answers at once. That’s not going to happen. I can tell you that right now. What you need to do is focus. Focus only on the things that are going to help you achieve your goal. Everything else, like I said, is garbage. And have a little patience. You’re not fighting him tonight. ”
Forty-Four Book Twelve (44 series 12) Page 9