The Gateway Through Which They Came (18 page)

That makes two of us.

My vision swims with the images of the four Bleeders and I blink them back. I take a quick glance over my shoulder to be sure they’re gone. They are. Confirming this allows me to breathe again. How I manage to remain standing is beyond me. Pain in my knees shoots up my leg, and it’s then that I realize how stiff they are.

“I’m… I think I’m sick,” I lie.

To collect my bearings, I fold myself midway to rest my hands on my knees. I’m sure this move gives my feigning sickness a little more leverage. When I stand straight again, I can see Mom’s convinced, though terrified all the same. Father Martin, he’s not buying it.

“Perhaps we should get you home,” Father Martin offers, lifting his hand in the direction I assume his car is parked.

I nod, the movement weak and small. “I’ll ask Trevor to take me. If that’s okay?” I direct the question toward my mom, who nods.

On cue, Trevor glides in beside me, forcing his way between bystanders.

“Come on, man. Let’s get you out of here.”

We walk away, then Father Martin calls out. “You’ll come see me tomorrow, won’t you, Aiden?”

I look back at him. “Yes, Father.” My words feel heavy in the air, an understanding passing between us.

Yes, I’ll be there. Things out here are turning against me. Unknown things that are stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced. Who knows how much time is left before I completely lose control, or before whatever is seeking me out gets what it came for.

The night is filled with nightmares. Bleeders and shadowed figures loom over me. I feel suffocated in my sleep, like a pressure weighing down on my chest, pressing me into the mattress with force. I struggle to breathe, my lungs ache for air. Darkness and laughter crush into me as if those very things are entities of their own, draining me of life.

I don’t wait for my mother to wake before I head out. Her questions will only complicate things even more, and questions she will inevitably have after last night. I can’t wait any longer. It’s time to do what I should have done in the first place.

The only thing keeping me sane is knowing that Father Martin may have the answers I need to rid myself of this burden. This “gift” is something I wish I could rip out of me. If only I could shove my fist through my chest and cleanse myself of this curse, I’d make it all stop. Forever.

All the times I’ve been to the Church of Saint Christopher, I’ve never come across the front door locked after opening hours. Desperation rips through me as I bang my fists against the solid wood. A part of me nearly cries out for someone to let me in, but I bite back the words. Deep down I need what little salvation this place could grant me. It’s something I need now more than ever.

I pace the walkway, focusing on steady breaths. Father Martin has to be here. He said he would be, didn’t he?

“What are you doing here so early?” Julie ascends the steps and comes to a sudden halt.

She cocks an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. I’ve owed her a few of these lately. This last week has made our friendship more awkward than anything else. Honestly, it seems like everything between us has changed since Koren showed up.

I clear my throat. “Um… your uncle asked me to come by. I thought… I thought he’d be here by now.”

“Oh.” She walks past me and attempts to open the door. “That’s weird. I saw him leave this morning.” She would know. Julie’s been living with Father Martin since her parents’ fatal accident three years ago.

“Should we be worried?”

“Worried? Oh, no. I’m sure he just didn’t realize the door locked behind him.” From her pocket she removes a set of keys. It doesn’t take her long to find the correct one. I can almost kiss her as she swings the door open and gestures for me to go in.

As we enter, the lights throughout the church are on. A shocking cold greets us with the smell of freshly blown out candles permeating the air. Just as quickly as the cold struck, it disperses, allowing warmth to expand in waves, pushing the remnants of chilling energy outward. It’s as if the church was under a spell and we freed it upon entering.

With the door safely shut behind us, I reach an arm across Julie to hold her back. Whatever was in here couldn’t have gone far. For all Julie knows, it’s just a draft coming from an open window, but this is a chill I’m familiar with.

“Wait,” I tell her. “Let me check things out first.” I take a step ahead of her, keeping my eyes searching the room.

“Why? It’s nothing. Someone probably left the AC on.” Her tone says it all—even she doesn’t believe that.

“In the middle of December?” I say.

She doesn’t respond.

I creep down the aisle, the altar straight ahead. A strange energy mixes with the hum of another Gateway, and I have to ask myself if it’s the church feeding off me, or if the person who broke in is one of the same. A Bleeder? A Gateway? I can’t decipher the sense in my gut to determine which.

The old building is silent as if it’s listening for the entity that violated it. Small swirls of smoke dance into the air, streaming from the snuffed out candle wicks. It’s unnaturally quiet, making me uneasy. I can’t imagine what a Bleeder would be doing in a church. A Gateway would make more sense. Unless, perhaps, a deceased member of the church lives within the walls, haunting this place.

It’s no secret that the church has its fair share of Gateways coming and going. But I’ve been a member here for years, and I always know when things such as Bleeders and Gateways make themselves known.

There’s no evidence of who it could have been. The now unlit candles don’t give me much to work from. The warmth of the building steadies itself, making it clear that whatever was here is gone… for now.

A shadow flickers in the corner of my eye near the Father’s chambers. I turn my head with a quick snap, hoping to catch a glimpse. My attention is locked in on this mystery and I intend to follow, when Julie steals me from my thoughts.

“What are you looking for?” Julie says from behind, startling me.

“Je—” I stop myself before taking the Lord’s name in vain. “Didn’t I tell you to wait?”

Her brow furrows. “Well, you’re being weird. Knock it off!” She stomps away toward her uncle’s chamber, clearly shaken.

My annoyance level drops when I remember the shadow.

“Julie! Wait!” I hurry after her, but she’s way ahead of me.

She’s at the door, her fingers on the handle. I could swear that thing disappeared through that very door. My hand lands on hers as she begins to turn the handle.

The main entrance to the church jolts open. We jump away from the chamber door and turn back to find Father Martin, dirty with sweat and grime. His hair is disheveled and he’s nearly out of breath. He seats himself in the pew nearest him, looking desperate for relief.

“Uncle Jacob?” Julie runs to him and I follow close behind.

“Father, what happened?” I ask, kneeling beside him.

Father Martin reaches for a kerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and pats it across his forehead.

“Well, wouldn’t you know it? I got a flat tire on my way here.” He looks older this way, exhaustion heaving from his body.

“I’ll get you some water.” Julie leaves us and runs back to a small room where he keeps a mini fridge.

Last minute, I whip around to stop her but she’s already gone. Whatever I saw earlier ran and I have to find out why.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting for me, Aiden,” Father Martin says, catching his breath.

I reach for his arm and with a soft tap, I say, “Don’t worry about it. Did you need me to fix that tire for you?”

“No, no. It’s been taken care of it. Why do you think I look like a mechanic?” He chuckles, showing his hands that are covered with black smudges.

Julie is back within seconds, holding out the bottle of water. “Drink this.”

He takes small sips, recuperating after each intake. We sit back and take in the sight of him. The color slowly flushes back to his cheeks and he seems to be recovering.

“Did you run over a nail or something?” Julie says, taking the bottle back and recapping it.

“I don’t believe so. I was driving and all of a sudden the tire gives out. Just like that.” He demonstrates with a snap of his finger. “After I switched it out, I couldn’t find a single thing wrong with it.”

Julie and I make eye contact and quickly break away. I hate that we can hardly look at each other now. It’s so unlike how we were before, as if she’s suddenly aware of something that she couldn’t see during the summer we spent together. What does she know about the work her uncle and I do? Does she know of our meetings years ago when he helped perfect my gift?

Father Martin is still shaken from the incident, but waves away our attempts to help him to his feet. Julie’s concern far outweighs whatever else she’d put together. The unknown presence within the church is forgotten, the Gateway hum weak and nearly gone. I want to ask Julie what she knows, but I’m too afraid.

Despite it all, one thing is clear: whatever was in this church is likely what tried to stop Father Martin from interrupting its agenda.

I just can’t understand why.

ather Martin tries his best to make me stay, but I insist that I go home. I can’t see myself taking up his time when he looks this exhausted. It doesn’t feel right. Julie’s expression as I leave remains sketched in my mind. Does she feel the shift? Can she sense that something about me is changing? Julie is a strong person of faith. There’s no way she could disregard what she felt in the church this morning. It was too disturbing to ignore.

A text from Trevor tempts me to join as he and Evan plan to spend another day in the game room. It would be nice to get away, to get my mind off things, but I can’t shake the presence I felt in the church. I have to ask myself if it’s possible for a Gateway to turn Dark Side. It’s the only thing that could describe what I felt back there.

I reply to Trevor with some pathetic excuse, and head home.

Mom doesn’t ask any questions after I walk through the door. She knows about my visit with Father Martin, which seems to calm her a little.

“I made some lunch for you. It’s in the fridge,” she says, forcing a smile as if trying not to make it obvious that she’s worried again. She’s a little late on that. The way her fingers rub the gold cross dangling from her necklace is proof enough.