A Guardian of Innocents (37 page)

Suddenly, he whirled around, slicing through the empty air behind him and began a series of basic fighting moves, each step graceful and deliberate.

When he was done, he turned and said, “This a good soad.”

“Can you teach me how to do that?” I asked.

“Yes! Yes, no problem. You do movie?”

“Huh? Uh, no. I just want to learn.”

“You not movie star? You look like movie star. You look like, eeh-uh, titanee guy!”

“Titanic Guy?” I asked, thinking he must mean some kind of superhero I’d never heard of, but then I saw the image forming in his mind’s eye: Leonardo DiCaprio with arms spread-eagle crying out,
I’m king of the world!

“No,” I replied, a little embarrassed, “I’m not the Titanic guy.”   

When I was doing plays back at that community college, Nancy (the drunk birthday girl at Dan & Bruno’s) had told me once that I bore a resemblance to that particular actor. I don’t see it. Never have... except once.

One Sunday evening, Des and I watched The Basketball Diaries on television. In one dream sequence, a shotgun-toting Leo walks into a classroom wearing a black trench coat and begins to blow away all of his friends as they laugh with a kind of twisted glee. His look of cold, bitter hatred in that scene was the same as my own when I gazed into that mirror at Milton’s place.

I arranged for lessons twice a week with Mr. Koshiro and walked out into the stale air of a New York afternoon.

*          *          *

Aaron and I would watch the news, search the web, the newspapers... though we both knew it would probably do no good. Any information on the whereabouts of Louis Godwin would very likely come from Aaron’s dad first.

So mostly we had nothing to do but wait.

Godwin has not appeared to Special Agent Collins since the cataclysmic night at the factory. I’m willing to bet Tessa has a lot to do with that.

But with prices on the heads of both his children, I know he is hard at work. I know he spends every moment of his free time obsessively striving to track down the man who impaled him with one of the swords I now carry.

I sit here now, two years later, writing all this, not even sure if I’ll ever let anyone read it. The only remains found of Desiree was a small piece of her hand. A coffin seemed like such a large waste of space for such a tiny part of her to be encased. I thought about cremation, but wanted to remain true to her religious beliefs. She’s buried in a cemetery in Queens.

Aaron’s apartment is spacious, with plenty of room for three. Tessa lives with us now. Her father stays too busy to look after her, plus some of Godwin’s men almost got her again one rainy morning before school. None of them had laid hands on her, but they’d gotten within forty yards before Tessa’s internal alarm had gone off.

She’s a sophomore in high school now, old enough to drive soon.

It was only a small consolation for us when six months ago we learned that Louis’ internet kiddie porn ring had been completely shattered (or close to it) in a large scale sting operation that involved the cooperative efforts of both the FBI and Interpol. Hundreds were arrested. Distributors and consumers alike were rounded up like cattle.

“He’ll just create another one,” Richard said one night as he visited us for dinner, “It’s what he always does. He’s laughing at us right now from some dark corner of the world. His team of computer geeks will have a new string of websites built back up in three days.”

“He’s not going to hide forever,” Tessa announced in a near whisper, “He’s planning something big. I don’t think it involves us, though.”

“She’s right,” Aaron said, “I’ve been getting the same feeling.”

*          *          *

A few months later, an email pops up on our home computer.

Friends,

I’m feeling better today than I’ve felt since our last encounter. It is an arduous and painstaking task, but I am slowly recovering. I know you have some items of value that belong to me, but as a gesture of good will, I’ll allow you to keep them. I must thank you, Jeshua, for freeing me from Tessa’s spiritual bondage.

Because of you, I was able to escape. May it eat you up till your dying day!

Yours always,

Creeper

As for me, my outlook on life has changed. I’ve been given a purpose. A purpose I know will one day be fulfilled. I know now that God placed me on this earth for a reason. I don’t feel like I’m hopelessly adrift, being knocked about by the waves of chaos anymore.

I still hold firm that the men I’ve removed from this planet each deserved to have their life’s flame extinguished... And that the world is better off for it.

And while I don’t think I’ll kill anyone ever again, there is of course that one person, that one
non
-human, upon whom I shall make one last valiant attempt.

One day I know this shall come to pass. I will have my day, my one last chance to fight him. Whether or not I’ll win, I don’t know.

I probably won’t.

But every night, after I say my prayers in the darkness of my room, I whisper, “Show yourself, Godwin. C’mon, you fucker, show yourself!”

It’s my fault. I know it’s my fault. But I’m going to make it right.

C’mon, Godwin. Show yourself.

I’m waiting for you.         

THE END

Author’s Note

My thanks to all who’ve read and supported this novel. I am forever grateful to each and every one of my readers. And I’m especially grateful for all those who’ve helped me along the way by offering advice, critiques, etc.

The second installment of
A Guardian of Innocents
is currently underway. The title is
Open Grave
. You’ve likely noticed there’s a whole lot of back-story between Louis (a.k.a the man in black) and Aaron’s family that I failed to delve too deeply into with this first book…

Yeah, there’s a reason for that.

Open Grave
– Excerpt 1

Part I

Life is Beautiful

Chapter 1

The bullet ricocheted off the tombstone.              

Looking back, it was at that moment things began to turn around for me. The lament I had submersed myself in for so long seemed trite and inconsequential, even self-indulgent.

I had chosen a day I knew would be overcast and rainy; a day I knew there would be few, if any, visitors at the cemetery. The plan was simple… End it. The pain, the misery, the anguish and the hurt. End it. And do so as close to Desiree as possible.

The light mist of fine rain began to thicken and accelerate in intensity. Droplets began to run off my forehead and into my eyes as I knelt down on the grass. My fingertips traced the engraving of her name. I placed my hand on the top of the tombstone and clutched it, steeling myself to do what I’d imagined doing for the past few years. My other hand was shoved deep in my jacket pocket, holding the gun, keeping it dry and out of sight from any would-be passers-by.

Pull out gun. Apply to head. Pull trigger.

That was it. The whole plan. It seemed so easy. Do it all in one swift motion, with no hesitation. End it.

And as my hand emerged from my pocket, finger already tensing on the trigger, I knew I had every intention of going through with it. But then a firm hand clasped my shoulder.

Startled, my head whirled around. I had brought the gun up to about chest level. And then it went off. Perhaps it was nerves, perhaps it was just this particular gun had a hair trigger, perhaps it was a combination. It was a new gun I wasn’t familiar with.

The bullet took a chip off the corner of Desiree’s headstone. And as I turned around, all I saw was that one fleeting glimpse of red. It was a quarter of a second, if that; just at the edge of my peripheral vision. Long red hair lifting in a breeze.

And though I turned to find no one standing behind me, or anywhere near me… I knew.

*          *          *

It’s funny how life throws you into places where you least expected to be, least wanted to be, but so often need to be. I could have chosen any mental health institution anywhere in the country; Aaron said he’d handle the expense. But I had to go and choose
that
one. I didn’t know if it was the name of the place, the pictures in the pamphlet, but something about that particular hospital just called out to me. It said,
Here I am, pick me
.

I stood at the bottom of a large hill covered with a lush green lawn, staring up at the place. The white, ornate support columns running up the front of the hospital gave more of the impression of a southern mansion than a nuthouse.

“You’ve got Tessa’s number, right?” Aaron asked as he closed the trunk of his car.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay. She said she’s gonna text you if she senses anything’s going on.”

Confused, I asked, “Like what?”

Aaron handed me one of my duffel bags. “Like the crap you pulled at the cemetery.”

“Ah,” I replied. “Is she mad?”

Aaron shook his head as we started walking up a curving concrete path that led up the hill towards the front entrance. “No, not mad. Just very upset. She said she saw you as soon as you walked into that graveyard. And she knew what you were planning. Her cell phone battery was almost dead and she was trying to plug it in so she could call you. She felt helpless.”

I sighed as the guilt crept in, resting its burdensome weight upon my shoulders.

“Tell her I’m sorry. I—“

“Tell her yourself,” Aaron said, “It’s been three days and you haven’t returned any of her calls. She’s worried.”

“I broke my promise to her,” I replied, my voice cracking a little.

“I’m sure she’s aware of that, but that’s not what she cares about. It’s you and how you’re doing right now that concerns her.”

“I’m just dreading it. I know it’s going to be an emotional conversation… I’m not good at those.”

Aaron gave a quick scoff as he shook his head. “You owe it to her.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The proverbial uncomfortable silence followed.

“Hey, look, umm, I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose someone you really care about. I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through, but—“

“Bullshit,” I whispered. I leaned towards him and we locked eyes. “What Louis did to you and your family was far worse than what he did to me. He killed your mother and abducted your sister on the same day, held her captive for years—“

Aaron held his hand up, “I know. I was referring to how I lost Ana, not my family.”

“Ah,” I replied. “You know, I’m surprised you never asked Tessa to help you with that. She found my dad.”

“No, it was actually my own dad that did that. Tessa just pestered him until he finally caved and agreed to help.”

The front doors were of the automatic variety, made of glass and sliding apart on a track. Aaron stopped me just as I was about to approach the front desk for check-in.

“Hey, listen. I know now’s not a good time, but whenever you get situated and you’re, you know, feeling better, give me a call. There’s something I want to bounce off of you, just not now.”

“Dan & Bruno’s?” I asked as I noted the image that was floating up to the surface of his thoughts. “What about it?”

Aaron sighed. “I read your book again awhile back. Those two guys that were there that night, the ones that tipped you off about Milton’s Halloween party…”

“Yeah?”

“Were they
there
at Milton’s that night? When you did your, you know, your thing?”

I searched my memories, doing my best to delve deep, which took me a few moments.

“No. No they weren’t. Damn, I wonder why. They should’ve been.”

Then I saw Aaron’s theory.

“Wait, holy shit!” I said, my voice rising.

Aaron hushed me with a stern look and another raised hand. “It’s just an idea.”

“No. I think you’re right. Son of a bitch, those two guys weren’t even real. Louis just…”

My thoughts and my voice trailed off as I took it all in. I shouldn’t have been getting this upset right before checking into the loony bin, but I couldn’t help it.

“Calm down,” Aaron said in a low whisper.

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to calm down,” I growled through clenched teeth. “Louis USED me! He couldn’t take out Milton himself. It was in your journal. Milton had a binding curse on Louis, just like the one Louis put on YOU!”

Aaron nodded his head. “Exactly.”

“I read their thoughts. I could feel their emotions. It’s all…”

I shook my head, feeling that old rage resurfacing. I wanted to take my duffel bag and toss it into the lobby television I could hear chattering a few yards away.