Abaddon looked down the long hallway dotted with colorful light coming through the stained glass windows and wondered what route he should take to reach Gabriel fast and undetected. He could only make his move once Sister Beatrice walked away and Gabriel joined Mrs. Knight on a different patch. The two were approached by one of the children, which finally took the weight off Abaddon’s chest.
Despite his stubborn arguing, Gabriel seemed to have taken Abaddon’s words to heart and wasn’t about to water the vegetables with nun blood. And while Abaddon’s own chest still ached from the hostility directed at him this morning, he figured this might be the day to introduce the boy to his pad in the attic and maybe reconcile over a bottle of Bordeaux from Doctor Roger’s liquor cabinet.
Intent on stealing some trinkets to make the room feel more lived-in, Abaddon continued down the empty corridor, glad for how few people lived in this part of the massive building. Outside, Sister Beatrice’s black-clad form rushed forward like a cloud of smoke, but as she sped up, almost breaking into a jog, Abaddon lifted his eyes to see what that was about.
Father John headed toward her, his cassock swishing in the breeze. Abaddon could taste the tension between them on his tongue, but he had to get closer if he wanted to hear their conversation. Luck was on his side when he spotted that the next window down in the corridor was open.
Getting to it took him only a few moments, and by the time he grabbed the windowsill and peeked outside, the two had already met, and he could hear every worried note in the nun’s voice.
“I’m afraid. What if everything falls through? Nobody’s heard from Rogers and Watson in a week!”
“It is possible that they got cold feet. Only the truly faithful will be there for the new initiation.” Father John stroked her shoulder. “I’ve got it all under control. You have nothing to worry about, because you’ve done everything right.”
“Gabriel’s been acting up,” she said, raising her chin.
Father John sighed. “Something’s been off about that boy, but this wouldn’t be the first time he was in one of his moods, so don’t let him bother you.”
Sister Beatrice hunched her shoulders and looked around before placing her palm on Father John’s chest. “But what if they don’t show up? There needs to be six of us!”
Abaddon ducked when instinct told him Father John might scan his surroundings as well.
“As I said, it is all under control. I have backup. Focus on your calling.”
They then lowered their voices before walking off in different directions. Abaddon peeked out to spot Father John padding down the stone-paved alley toward the driveway. It was only then that he noted the sound of an engine and spotted a yellow car rolling from the woodland. A visitor from the outside world.
Abaddon’s gaze found Gabriel's dark silhouette again, but a bad feeling curled in his gut when the boy grabbed small pruning shears and hastily walked toward the priest.
There was a spot nearby where the facade formed a notch, which might briefly keep Abaddon from prying eyes, and he dashed there, relieved to see a drainpipe. Not wanting to lose any time, he opened the window wide and, after making sure he’d remain unseen, used the pipe to reach the ground. The fresh scent of evergreen bushes welcomed him with a promise of safety, but he dashed to the brown tool shed nearby.
Blood drained from his face when he realized who the shears were meant for. Officer Martinez left the car and stretched in the sunshine.
The man hadn't changed much since Gabriel’s torture. There might be a couple of wrinkles on his tan face now, but the curls on his head were as black as Abaddon remembered. Not bothering to drive inside or leave the vehicle at the parking lot by the front entrance to the orphanage, Martinez stopped his yellow Ford on the side of the road and welcomed Father John with a gesture. At first glance, there was nothing threatening about him—just a guy going through a midlife crisis—with a bit of a pot belly, a leather jacket, and a showy car—but that was just because Martinez was a particularly dangerous kind of beast. One who knew how the value of pacing itself.
One peek beyond the shed and Abaddon spotted Gabriel approaching through the garden like a snake focused on its target, cutters in hand and ready to strike. He lowered his head as he walked among the trees and bushes, but the path he was taking would lead him past the shed. If Abaddon’s fears were correct, and Gabriel lost his mind enough to attack Martinez out in the open, the consequences would be catastrophic. In the best case scenario, it could land him in isolation, but if things escalated, Gabriel might end up arrested, maybe even involuntarily committed to a psychiatric institution, if Father John wanted to get rid of him for good.