Chapter 22
Gabriel burst through the front door of Melissa’s home on Blackstone Drive with her at his side. Instantly, he was greeted with an eerie silence. Stillness had settled over the house like a thick layer of freshly fallen snow, stifling and silencing the hum and buzz of machinery. Ordinary household sounds, the ticking of the clock, the whirring of the refrigerator, the purring of the heating system, were muffled, deadened.
He noticed Melissa was alarmed as well and immediately began calling out to her father.
“Dad! Dad!” she shouted, but was answered with silence.
Gabriel scanned the space before him. A long hallway leading to the living-room area was ahead. From where he stood, he had a clear view of the living room.
Melissa’s father was not in the hallway or living room
He decided to search the house. Something or someone was responsible for the unnatural silence. Gabriel feared the worst; that Eugene had beaten them to the Martin home and murdered Christopher Martin and that he remained, lurking in the confines of their home waiting for the moment to strike. Unwilling to waste another moment and possibly prolonging an inevitable confrontation, he cautiously turned to his left and moved into the kitchen. Melissa followed, silent and anxious. Gabriel rounded the corner into the kitchen and quickly inspected the area fearing that at any second he would unearth Christopher Martin’s lifeless form crudely positioned as both an affront and preview of things to come for both of them.
No corpse was visible. The room was empty. However, atop the wooden dinette, various articles of mail and flyers were strewn. Such evidence suggested that her father was home but not answering his daughter. Gabriel’s concern grew.
Prompted by the silence that filled the house and a profound worry for Christopher Martin’s life, Gabriel moved faster.
Swiftly, he continued the length of the vacant kitchen and proceeded into the dining room. The chairs were unoccupied. Only a laundry basket filled with cleaned and folded clothes rested on a chair.
Gabriel looked to Melissa. Her face was filled with worry. She did not utter a word, but her eyes spoke of panic, of dread. He reached out and took her hand in his, gave it a reassuring squeeze. She accepted the gesture and returned the grasp then smiled thinly. Gabriel knew it was a halfhearted attempt at feigning confidence; that it was done for his benefit. He knew she feared for her only family member’s life.
Gabriel’s hatred of Dr. Terzini intensified. Terzini was responsible for Eugene, for him, and, for Melissa’s pain. Whether or not Christopher Martin lived, Gabriel was uncertain. But he was certain Melissa would. Standing in her dining room, he silently pledged to not fail her as he imagined he had failed her father.
From the dining room he swiftly led Melissa into the family room at the rear of the house. The otherwise cozy living space stood uninhabited. As Gabriel suspected, her father was neither seated at the desk, nor did he rest on the sectional in front of the flat-screen television.
“Gabriel, let’s check the basement, see if my dad is working out or something,” Melissa said, her voice breaking with emotion.
Then she paused and reconsidered as if thinking aloud before adding, “Wait, we should look in the garage first and see if his car is there. I mean, there’s a slight chance he had to run out or something.”
Taking her lead, Gabriel dashed down the hallway. Directly across from the doorway to the basement lay a short corridor. In this passageway, straight ahead stood a door to the laundry room and lining both sides were ingresses as well. One led to a small half bathroom while the other led to the garage.
Melissa rushed to the entryway of the garage and opened the door. A black Toyota Rav 4 occupied the bay, her father’s SUV.
“His car is here,” Melissa said quietly.
Gabriel did not speak. He did not have the right words to soothe her, if such words existed. Instead he stared into her emerald eyes wordlessly willing her to be strong and know that he loved her, that he would protect her. He believed she received his psychic message of love as she tipped her chin up defiantly, refusing to accept the possibility of her father’s death. She shut the door to the garage and left the short hallway. Melissa stepped into the main hallway with him following and opened a door along the wall. Beyond the entryway was a painted, wooden flight of steps leading to the basement.
“I’m going first,” Gabriel said, leaving no room for argument.
Melissa did not fight him but moved out of the way and followed him.
Gabriel stepped gingerly from each tread to the next and held fast to the guardrails on either side of the partially finished staircase. His heart pounded as the silence of the house grew thicker the deeper they descended into the basement.
Stepping off the last rung of the staircase and on to the black linoleum flooring, Gabriel felt colder. He placed his arm out protectively in front of Melissa with his hand at waist level. He found the light switch and turned on the overhead fixtures then quickly surveyed the room. Furnished with a weight bench and an array of free-weight plates and bars, a Bowflex exercise machine, a treadmill, an elliptical trainer and a power cage that provided safety for her dad when he lifted heavy weights, the underground room was a shrine to physical fitness. During several conversations, Melissa lovingly referred it as her dad’s “man-cave” teasing that when she stepped into the room, her voice dropped an octave in response the high levels of testosterone present. Gabriel smiled sadly at the loving anecdote.
Melissa looked warily at Gabriel.
“He isn’t down here. Let’s look upstairs,” she said meekly.
Gabriel’s stomach churned nervously. He had inspected the main floor of the house and the basement. Only one level remained. He was convinced that it was on the top floor that they would find her father’s corpse, and possibly Eugene. He switched off the lights and both he and Melissa ascended the staircase.
After shutting the door behind them, they strode down the longer corridor past the front door and began climbing the steps slowly at first, then faster, more resolutely. Gabriel raced up the staircase with Melissa behind him.
“Dad! Dad!” Melissa shouted again.
No one answered immediately. Overhearing movement from the master bedroom, Gabriel paused at the top of the steps.
“What? What’s going on Gabriel?” Melissa asked.
Her hearing was not as sensitive as his. She had not heard the sound of footfalls coming from the room down the hall.
“Melissa, leave. Now!” he commanded.
As the footsteps grew closer, Melissa heard them.
“Run!” Gabriel shouted.
Suddenly, from the master bedroom, Melissa’s father emerged.
“What’s all the yelling about?” he grouched. “Can’t a man use the toilet for heaven’s sake?” he asked, gesturing to the small bathroom off his bedroom.
“Gabriel,” he nodded in recognition. “What the hell is going on with you two?”
Relieved, Gabriel smiled. “Hello Sir,” he said.
“Dad, I was calling and calling. Why didn’t you answer me?” Melissa began.
“I was in the bathroom with the fan on. I didn’t even hear you. Besides, last time I checked I’m the parent and you’re the child,” her father began lecturing.
“We have to get out of the house!” Melissa interrupted impatiently.
“What’s with the attitude, Missy?”
“Dad, just listen to me! There’s no time to argue! We have to leave right now.”
“Why? Is the house on fire?” Christopher asked with concern.
“No, Dad. Something much worse is happening. You’re going to have to just trust me. We have to get out now!” she urged.
“Calm down Missy and tell me what the hell is going on!” her father demanded uneasily, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Dad, don’t you hear what I’m telling you? We have to leave now!” she pressed.
Gabriel watched as Christopher Martin
embraced his daughter, how the safety of his embrace allowed her to crumble. Emotion engulfed her fully. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she began to sob.
“He killed them, Dad. He killed them all! We have to get out of here.”
Her father’s jaw flexed as he tried to process his daughter’s cryptic statement. He held her back and looked directly at her.
“Who is ‘he’? Who did ‘he’ kill?” he asked, his voice laden with confusion and alarm.
Before Melissa could answer her father’s question, the sound of the front door slamming redirected their attention.
From the top of the staircase, Gabriel, Melissa and Christopher glanced over the balustrade to the landing below.
“What the fuck!” Christopher screamed.
At the bottom of the staircase, a hulking and familiar presence loomed. Eugene had arrived at the Martin household.
Gabriel saw Christopher Martin hesitate at the sight of Eugene. He recoiled in horror briefly before an intense instinctual inclination compelled him to act. He did not need further instruction but knew that the beast intended to harm him and his home’s inhabitants. Heeding the inherent warning, he responded instantly, running back into his bedroom to retrieve his Remington shotgun that remained loaded and waiting on a rack on the interior wall since the night that he intended to imperil Kevin Anderson.
When Melissa’s father returned to the hall, Eugene was at the top of the steps, but froze as Christopher Martin pointed the barrel of the shotgun at him.
Christopher shouted to his daughter without taking his eyes off of Eugene.
“Missy, get in your room and lock the door! Don’t open it at all, for any reason! Do you understand me?” he yelled.
“Yes Dad! I do!” Melissa cried.
With no other exit route available, her father stood, ready to defend himself and his daughter.
Eugene slowly advanced taking a tentative step forward.
“Don’t take another fucking step!” Christopher shouted.
Eugene halted and raised his hands, his giant palms turned outward in a mock show of cooperation, of surrender.
“Gabriel, go! Go with her,” her father commanded.
“No sir. I am staying with you,” Gabriel said in a level, voice.
Though he had no plan for exactly how to protect Melissa and her father, he intended to fight. He would not run and allow Christopher Martin to stand alone against Eugene.
As if he understood Gabriel’s commitment to both he and his daughter, Melissa’s dad did not bother trying to discourage him. Instead he ordered Gabriel to remain where he stood. Gabriel, of course, would not stand idly by. He would defend the Martins. For the moment though, he did as her father told him.
He was forced to observe the wide-eyed gaze of Melissa’s father as he seemed unable to look away from Eugene. Then unexpectedly, Melissa’s father exchanged a mysterious message with her, stole a furtive glance in her direction as he called out, “Missy, remember the tree! I never did what I said I’d do!”
Melissa locked eyes with her father fleetingly before shutting and locking the door to her bedroom. She understood her father’s secret instructions. Though Gabriel was not privy to their clandestine code, he could only hope that it contained an escape route.
In that instant, Eugene capitalized on Gabriel and Christopher’s grave mistake. They had taken their eyes off him for mere seconds allowing him ample time to advance.
As he and Melissa’s dad turned to refocus on the leviathan, they realized they were under attack. Eugene descended on them, moving faster than was humanly possible.
Reflexively, Christopher Martin discharged his weapon hitting the behemoth in the shoulder. Eugene howled in pain. Gabriel waited to see if he had been stopped, then quickly discovered that while he was wounded, the bullets did little to halt his advancement.
Shocked at the ineffectiveness of his artillery, Christopher cocked and aimed the shotgun and attempted to squeeze off another round. But before he could successfully fire his weapon, Eugene swatted at him with his enormous hand. The blow sent Melissa’s father crashing into the far wall of the hallway. The shotgun landed at his feet. His body was still.
Eugene began to move toward the felled man. Anger and fear melded as Gabriel realized he stood about to battle with the personification of Death. Though not cloaked in a long black cloak and not a mere skeleton of a man, Eugene performed as Dr. Franklin Terzini’s personal Grim Reaper, as an executioner. It was the sole purpose of his creation. But Gabriel was unwilling to allow Eugene the opportunity to orphan Melissa. He stepped out from the recess and made his presence known.
Gabriel confronted Eugene, his posture defiant, prepared for the inevitable physical confrontation that would ensue.
Incensed by Gabriel’s impudence, Eugene launched a rage filled assault. He delivered a punch with unparalleled speed. Gabriel narrowly dodged the blow. He did not recover from its velocity in time to see the second swipe coming. It crashed into his skull just above his temple, knocking him to the floor. Pain exploded from his head. He saw a burst of blinding white light followed by a pinwheel of colors.
Stunned and reeling, Gabriel’s eyes slowly focused. He lifted his chin and looked over his shoulder. From his prone position, he spotted the shotgun more than an arm’s reach away. He extended his limb as far as it would allow, his fingertips grazed the warm steel of the recently discharged weapon.
Watching his attempt, Eugene extended his powerful arm outward and seized Gabriel’s foot. He dragged Gabriel toward him, positioning him away from the gun.
“Did you honestly think you’d be quick enough to get that gun before I crushed you?” Eugene spat.
He towered over Gabriel, obviously enjoying the moment before he would release his vengeful, violent fury.