Written by Robert Hazelton, Sun Aug 30 0:52:40 US/Pacific 1998
Part 10
“Hold here a moment.” Kail whispered harshly, leaning against a tree. His breath came in gasps, rasping against his dry throat. The storm had lessened, the lightning had moved off but the rain was still present and beat upon them relentlessly.
“Are you alright?” Alia looked concerned though Kail admitted that she was radiant in the darkness. Her rain soaked blouse was clinging to her fit body, long hair stuck to pale skin, bright eyes shining against the black of the storm. Strange evening….
“Sure…” He nodded, tilting his head as he regarded her. Despite her ragged appearance, she was no worse the wear. There was no sign of fatigue in her eyes and indeed her body was tensed for action. “What about you?” He asked timidly.
“I’m fine.” She smiled, stepping over to cup his face in her hand. “But you looked exhausted. Perhaps we can rest a few moments?”
He shook his head. “No…” He glanced over his shoulder, grimacing as he peered through the trees. “I don’t think it would be wise to do so… We have no idea how far behind us they might be.”
“True…” She frowned gripping the hilt of her sword. “But we’re in a much better position… we could fight?” More an offer than a statement and he felt compelled to kiss her at that moment—to subdue the growing affection with physical contact. He shook it off.
“Hmm…” He bit his lip and looked around the trees. “I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be wise… We’re in more danger now than ever before. If we do escape and get back to Munich, the Baron is more than capable of simply having us hunted down. It may be that we need to end whatever his plans are tonight. Here.”
“My thoughts exactly.” There was an edge to her voice, almost frightening in its determination. He looked at her and smiled.
“This won’t be easy.”
“That’s why I’m excited.” She thrust the point of her sword in the ground and leaned against a tree, stretching her arms.
“Alright then…” He drew his own blade and straightened, pursing his lips before turning in the direction that they had come. “Take a position my dear… But remember that we want the Baron alive… at least until we can determine what’s going on…”
She chuckled wryly but nodded, sliding gracefully aside the path behind some trees, staring intently upon the path, eyes wide for better visibility in the near black of night. He whispered a quick prayer and took the opposite side, wondering just how many they were up against and wondering if even the talisman could protect him from what was to come… With a certain nod, he clasped faith over his heart and crouched in the bushes.
***
Darkness lay over the room like thick wool and Gabriel basked in the comfort of his bed. Thoughts drifted about back to his studio in the bookstore… how the hell did he sleep in that bed for so long? A smile perked at the edges of his lips as sighed in memory. Gone now were the days of squalor—monetary stress had disappeared along with his constant longing to succeed…
Success was something that Gabriel Knight always longed for thought far beyond his reach. A dream nothing more—a way to pass the time and lie to himself that one day all the bills will be gone and life will have a meaning. How quickly it really did change.
Change. More of that crap. He was going to make himself puke thinking about how much it offended him that everything he was had turned itself around and become something entirely different. From nothing to the world’s responsibility dropped on his shoulders. The purpose he always sought. Perhaps the curse had something to do with his constant feeling that there was something else… For now he felt /right/ if not happy.
Happiness /should/ have been his. He was an international celebrity. The Voodoo murders had phenomenal success as did the sequel. He was invited to exclusive parties, a benefit of his birth right and rank now that the Ritter name had been restored and the estates set in order. His holdings were growing. Gabriel Knight was now a man of high esteem.
He sighed and rolled over, thrusting an arm under his pillow with his eyes tightly shut. There was a solace in his old life… There was something to be said about not having an appointment book. Not having a set schedule of people and places that you were bound to visit and meet. Events shaped around him and he felt naked and unprepared. ‘This is what you always wanted.’ He told himself but the terse reply made him frown. ‘But why was I left unscathed while my world crumbled into this shining beacon of success?’
Sure, he felt more responsible. He kept his appointments, he made deadlines, the payroll was signed on time. A level of maturity that he really wasn’t interested in had settled over him. Right next to that change… He flipped over on his back and put his hands behind his head, eyes probing the blackness. Success, fame, financial well being. Sure… It’s all great. But then there was the hunting….
….and his current case, if it could be so called. The ring still unable to be destroyed and this strange old man trying to warn him of some impending danger and eventually dying practically in his arms. The strange young woman…. Another case running away without him. More answers than questions and little time remaining—or so it seemed. And what about the car wreck? What was that all about?
Questions churned in his mind, robbing him of another thirty minutes of sleep—seeping into an hour. Then a strange thought almost incomprehensible. A green hill grass blowing in a gentle breeze. What about the rabbit? He heard his mind ask and then he sighed. What the hell am I thinking…? The question danced with a light reverb on his lips…..
A sharp rapping forced his eyes wide and he bolted up in his bed. Someone knocking at the door, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to ignore it a moment. Insistance. “Damnit,” He muttered pulling himself free of the blankets and throwing on his robe. “Who’s there?” He called out, striding over to the door clumsily, the darkness hampering his movements. He fumbled for the light switch and cursed as the bright bulb filled the room, forcing his eyes to squint.
He opened the door and his eyes widened, just a moment as a hand rapidly clasped his throat and pushed him back in. A strangled cry barely louder than a gasp escaped his constricted throat as the door slid quietly shut…. A terse shove as his body stumbled back, tripping on the carpet and falling back on the bed. A moment passed and thoughts crossed his mind but before he could react, a heavy foot planted itself on his chest, securing him to the mattress. “Good evening Mr. Knight.” The voice was familiar but he couldn’t place it…. “Am I interrupting something?”
If you have any comments, you can email Robert Hazelton at azrael@aa.net.
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