Chapter 24 - The Night the Trees Had Eyes
The storm that had been brewing over the Pacific finally broke,
unleashing a torrent of rain and wind that screamed against the walls of the cottage.
Gabriel was with me now,
his presence a strange mixture of comfort and threat.
He had spent the evening reinforcing the windows and checking the perimeter,
his movements professional and precise.
"They won't come in the storm,"
I said,
trying to convince myself as much as him.
"The storm is the perfect cover,"
he replied,
checking the clip on a handgun I hadn't known he possessed.
"The sound of the rain hides the footsteps.
The darkness hides the movement."
We sat in the living room,
the only light coming from the dying embers in the fireplace.
I watched Gabriel,
the man who had orchestrated my 'sanctuary,'
wondering if I was just moving from one master to another.
"Why didn't you tell me the truth at the hardware store?"
I asked.
"I had to see if you were still the woman Ethan broke,
or the woman who burned him down,"
he said,
his eyes fixed on the door.
"The 'investors' don't fear a wife.
They fear a survivor."
Suddenly,
the power cut out,
plunging the cottage into a darkness so absolute it felt like being buried alive.
The silence that followed was heavy,
broken only by the rhythmic thud of the rain on the roof.
Then,
I heard it.
A metallic click.
The sound of a lock being bypassed—one of the heavy-duty deadbolts Gabriel had helped me pick out.
He moved with a speed that was almost supernatural,
pushing me behind the heavy stone chimney.
"Stay down,"
he whispered,
his voice barely audible over the wind.
The front door swung open,
a gust of cold,
wet air rushing into the room.
Three silhouettes stood in the doorway,
their faces obscured by tactical masks,
their weapons held in professional low-ready positions.
These weren't the "cleaning crew" from the warehouse.
These were professionals,
the kind of men who disappear people without leaving a trace of blood.
Gabriel fired first,
the flash of the muzzle illuminating the room for a split second.
The lead man fell,
but the other two moved with practiced efficiency,
splitting up and diving for cover.
The cottage was filled with the deafening roar of gunfire,
the smell of gunpowder mixing with the scent of pine.
I crouched behind the chimney,
my hands over my ears,
realizing that my 'new life' was being baptized in blood.
I saw one of the men flanking Gabriel,
moving toward the kitchen.
I didn't think.
I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed the heavy iron fire poker from the hearth and stepped out from my cover.
As the man turned,
surprised by my presence,
I swung the iron with everything I had,
feeling the jar in my shoulders as it connected with his head.
He went down with a heavy thud,
his weapon skittering across the floor.
Gabriel finished the third man,
the room falling back into a terrifying,
ringing silence.
"Are you hit?"
Gabriel asked,
his voice urgent as he reached for me.
"I’m fine,"
I gasped,
staring at the man I had struck.
"We have to go,"
Gabriel said,
grabbing his bag and the ledger I had kept hidden in the floorboards.
"There will be more.
They know we’re here now."
As we ran out into the rain,
the cottage I had hoped would be my home was left behind,
May you like
its doors open to the night,
another monument to the violence that followed Mabel Thorne like a shadow.
